The Black Train

It was eyeliner.

Collier could bear no more. What’s she doing NOW?

Then—

thunk!

The power snapped back on; the room blared in light. Reason returned. Collier bolted out of the bedroom and turned right into the bath closet.

“Dominique, what the hell are you—”

She stood facing him but with her head pitched down; she hadn’t noticed him enter.

But Collier was too taken aback by the shock of seeing her naked. All he could do was stare, his mouth drawn open.

The bright lights brought out every detail of her curves and feminine features, the sleek legs, wide hips joined by a flat white stomach. Plump white breasts jutted outward firmly as implants.

And what was she doing?

Two fingers wielded the tiny eyeliner brush, dabbed it into the circle of dark makeup, then very daintily left one single tiny dot on her pubis, about an inch above the clitoris.

She dropped the plastic box and looked right at him.

Collier—thick in the throat—got the effect. Shaved pubis? With one tiny freckle above the opening?

The daguerreotype glared in his mind.

She made herself look like her…

“Who are you?” she asked as if put off.

Dominique didn’t have a Southern accent, yet the voice that came out of her mouth did.

“I asked you a question, sir. Who the blazes are you, standin’ in my house uninvited?”

“Come on!” he gruffed and shoved her out of the small room.

“This is no way to treat the lady of this house, and you can be assured—”

“Shut up and get in there!”

Collier hauled her back into his room. “We’re getting out of here—” He grabbed her clothes and heaved them into her arms. “Put those on!”

“These are not my clothes, sir! And if you’re one’a my husband’s workers, you can wager that he’ll hear about this unmitigated intrusion!” She dropped the clothes. “In fact, I am going to tell him right now! And where is Jessa, damn her? Did she let you in the house?”

She brushed past him, stark in her nudity, but when her hand landed on the doorknob…

“Oh, dear, well now…maybe I am being hasty.” She turned back around. When she leaned against the door and straightened her posture, her bare breasts stood even more erect.

Holy moly…

Her eyes drilled right into him. “And, if I may be so forward, you are a handsome man. I’m sorry we haven’t previously met. Are you one of my husband’s foremen?”

Collier could have wept when he forced himself to look away from her magnificent body. “Dominique, we have to leave.”

She raised a delicate finger. “You must work for Mr. Cutton, am I right?” She pronounced “right” as “rat.” “Or perhaps you work over him. He is a marvelous man, I must say…” She slowly traipsed over, her innocent expression shifting into something sly. “So tell me, sir. How marvelous are you? And by what manner?”

Collier cringed when her warm hand slipped into his robe and slid up his chest. Her touch electrified him, and next she was kissing him…

The voice of his id returned, Looks like you gonna get a slice of the celibate weirdo after all…

Her mouth sucked his tongue.

It’s not her, it’s not her, he insisted to himself.

You better haul this one’s ashes right now…

But Collier knew he couldn’t.

Just then her hands slid down to his groin.

“Mmmm, yes,” she murmured. “You’re clearly a man who senses the needs of a lady.” Then she opened the robe and pressed against him. Her nipples felt like hot coins.

“But this is my daughters’ room—and God knows where they are at this hour. Out being little girls, I suppose, with that annoying dog of theirs. But we had to get them the dog. They don’t have any friends to speak of, and don’t mix well with the other children in town, due to our elevated social standing.”

Collier shivered with his eyes closed as her hand kept playing with him.

“Oh, but I’ve digressed,” she whispered into his neck. “Let’s retreat to the next room, shall we? It’s my… secret room, reserved for my pleasures alone.” She tried to pull him toward the door.

“No,” Collier said through gritted teeth.

She paused through a sigh. “You might be a bit nervous, which I understand—many of my men are at first. But you needn’t be worrying about my husband. He’s halfway to Maxon right now, and only comes back every month or so.”

Now she pressed harder against him.

He could sense the outrage of his darker self.

Listen to me, buddy boy. If you don’t ball the daylights out of this hunk of angel food cake, you’ll be a disgrace to all of masculinity—

“Put your clothes on,” he told her, pushing her back. “We have to leave…”

“All right.” She ignored him. “If you don’t want to go into the next room, we’ll do it here,” she said, then started to take off his robe.

Collier whipped her hands away. “We’re leaving!” he tried yelling at her. “Now!”

What a loser, his id conceded. I give up…

Collier grabbed her shoulders and shook.

“Your name is Dominique Cusher! You’re a brewmaster and a celibate Christian! Your name is NOT Penelope Gast!”

Had Dominique’s eyes…yellowed? Hatred and disgust tightened her face and next—

flump!

—Collier was thrown to the bed. Her bare thighs fastened his hips to the mattress as securely as a metal girder, and her hand—

Collier began to choke.

Her hand squeezed his throat so hard he thought his vertebrae would separate.

“You will indulge my fancy, sir, or I will kill you—”

Her strength was beyond fathoming. When he grabbed her forearm, it remained firm as a steel post. The hand was digging into his trachea.

“Jesus Christ, you’re killing me!” he gagged.

“Um-hmm.” She lowered her crotch. “Unless you fuck me right now…”

For a split second, she released his throat and Collier dragged in a breath just before he would’ve passed out. He tried to lurch up—

In an inhuman blur, she grabbed one of the pillows and was now vising it against his face with both hands.

Sightless, Collier felt his lungs start to expand.

Her accent sounded so sweet around the ultimately profane words: “You will fuck me, sir, and then you will void your bladder—”

Collier was convulsing.

“—or I’ll smother you right now.”

Collier wasn’t sure if he’d passed out or not. Some reflex hooked his fist in an arc; then he felt his knuckles crack into the side of her head.