DEBBIE AND THE TRANSIT OFFICER

BY FUNFORHERE

"Yak, yak, yak, yak, yak, yak, yak, yak, yak, yak." "Blah, blah,
blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah."

Debbie Simpson and Stephanie Davidson talked continuously and
loudly in their high piping voices. You see, Debbie and Stephanie
were best friends and had lots to talk about. This time on the
train in the mornings was precious because they went to different
schools. They told each other everything. Well, almost
everything. There was One Thing that Debbie hadn't told her best
friend, even though she was busting to, because she knew that it
wasn't the sort of thing that you talked about.

Anyway, they'd been chattering all the way from Gordon, much to
the irritation of the tiny minority of passengers who weren't
either blabbering away on their mobile phones or had MP3 players
blasting in their ears. The two friends' gabble was punctuated
from time to time by shrieking girlish giggles or, more rarely,
by "Ooooos" and "Aaaaahs" and the man in the black sweater, who
was unsuccessfully trying to make sense of "Foucault's Pendulum",
just wished they'd stop. Even for a moment. Please….

On the other hand the man in the grey shirt was only pretending
to read his newspaper. What he was really doing was
surreptitiously watching the two eight year old schoolgirls. He
thought that they looked very fetching in their short uniform
dresses, white ankle socks and black Mary Jane shoes. In fact he
thought they were so fetching that he would have liked to fetch
out his….

"Stephanie!" exclaimed Debbie suddenly as the train rolled to a
stop in the tunnel just before North Sydney. "I've gone past my
station!"

"Oh, we've gone way past it, silly" giggled her friend. "We were
talking so much." Stephanie had to get to the station after the
next, so she wasn't terribly worried about it.

"What'll I do?" asked Debbie, her eyes wide.

"Don't worry" replied Stephanie, who was the more practical of
the two. "Just get out at North Sydney – we're nearly there now –
and catch the next train back."

"Oh yes, of course."

Too late! Hardly had the words left Debbie's mouth when along
came two Transit Officers, checking tickets.

"S t e p h a n i e!" she whispered urgently.

"Just tell them what happened" her friend replied. "They'll
understand. You'll see – they'll let you off. No sweat."

"Well, well, well!" said the bigger and fatter of the two Transit
Officers in an ominous tone as he examined the ticket that Debbie
timidly displayed. "What do we have here?"

"I-I'm sorry" she said haltingly. "I-we were talking, and I
didn't notice my station."

"That's no excuse!" he replied. "You're here on the train without
a valid ticket. That's a punishable offence young lady!"

"Oh, please don't punish me" the scared little girl pleaded with
tears in her eyes. In the meantime the train had moved out of the
tunnel and was coming to a stop at the station.

"Oh yes I will" said the Transit Officer with a gleam in his eye
and a growing tumescence in his pants. It had been quite a while
since he'd had the chance to punish a naughty little girl. Taking
the frightened child by the arm, he dragged her out of the train,
up the stairs and into the middle of the busy concourse, followed
by a worried Stephanie and, at a little distance, the man in the
grey shirt.

Without further ado, and without letting go of Debbie's arm, he
used a key on the end of a chain attached to his utility belt to
open a small cabinet on a concrete pillar. From this cabinet he
took two long and broad black leather straps and a narrow and
shorter one and dragged the pale and trembling little girl over
to a narrow and backless seat in the middle of the concourse.

Hardly pausing to push a little old lady off the seat, the
Transit Officer pressed Debbie face down onto it and with
practised ease secured her to it with the two broad and long
black leather belts. One went around the backs of her knees and
the other just above her waist, pinning her arms to her sides.
After buckling the straps up tightly he stood back for a moment
to admire his handiwork. By this time a crowd of curious
onlookers had gathered around, including the man in the grey
shirt.

"Ladies and gentlemen" began the Transit Officer in a loud and
authoritarian voice. "This naughty little girl has been caught
travelling on a train without a ticket valid for where I caught
her." There was a chorus of gasps and murmurs from the onlookers.

"Acting on the authority vested in me under the rail transport
regulations I am now going to punish this child. Now let me see….
Her ticket was for Roseville, but here she is at North Sydney.
That's another…. Um, five stations" he concluded, after counting
up on his fingers. "A most serious offence!"

He bent down and pulled Debbie's uniform dress up around her
waist, and then pulled her little white cotton panties down as
far as the strap securing her knees to the seat. She went very
red, conscious of the crowd of people now looking intently at her
bare bottom. One member of that crowd was of course the man in
the grey shirt, who was imagining what it would be like to spread
Debbie's legs and the cheeks of her very nice little bottom and
see the tiny rosebud between them. The thought got him so excited
that he had to turn his mind to something else for a while….

"Section 37 of the regulations" intoned the Transit Officer,
"states that she should be given three strokes of the strap for
every station beyond the one that she's entitled to travel to. So
that means 15 strokes, unless I'm mistaken." He looked around the
crowd, receiving a number of approving nods.

"Oh, please don't give me the strap!" wailed Debbie. "I didn't
mean it. I promise not to do it again."

"No little missy" said her antagonist in a firm voice, as he
doubled the strap over and took the two ends in one large hand.
"Regulations are regulations, and I'd be failing in my duty if I
didn't punish you." He looked around again, getting more nods and
murmurs of approval from the crowd.

"P-please d-don't g-give me t-the s-strap" sobbed Debbie. "I
p-promise to b- be…. OWWWWW!" Her plea ended with a shriek of
pain and surprise as the flat of the strap came down on her bare
posterior.

Now it wasn't so much that that the stroke was hard. Far from it.
Even though he might not read Proust or be an aficionado of
Wagner, the Transit Officer was skilled in the punishment of
naughty children, both boys and girls. He knew just how to slow
the downward stroke of the strap so that when it hit a tender
little bottom it stung like hell without doing any real damage.

And that is precisely what he did to Debbie, again and again and
again, fourteen more times to be precise.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! went the hard
black leather strap on Debbie's bare bottom. Every time it came
down she got another red mark on that bottom, and every time it
came down she howled and wailed and cried tears that were nearly
as hot as her bottom had become.

Another part of Debbie got warmer too. Yes, it was her little
twat, pressed as it was against the hard wooden seat. With every
blow of the strap she writhed and flinched, and every time she
did that she rubbed herself more against the hard seat. So she
was not only hot, but tingly as well. Even in her pain she felt
it.

When she felt no more blows of the strap, Debbie twisted her head
around and saw that the Transit Officer's face had gone all red
and sweaty, that he was breathing heavily and that he was looking
intently at her bare and very sore bottom. What she didn't
realise was that most of the heavy breathing, sweatiness and
redness of the face was due to him being rather fat, but not all
of it. Was he, she wondered, going to feel her private parts?

As soon as she thought of it, she wanted it to happen. Debbie,
her bare bottom aflame from being thrashed with the black leather
strap, wanted the man to feel her private parts, just as her
Daddy had done a couple of weeks ago. She just so badly wanted
him to diddle her little fanny with his big, course, dirty
fingers.

How the Transit officer would have liked to! But no, he couldn't,
even if there'd been no one else around. The regulations were
very strict: they specifically said that although he was free to
punish little girls, he was forbidden to engage in the touching
of their intimate places. He knew perfectly well that "intimate
places" meant their fannies, titties and bottoms. He even had to
be careful when pulling down their panties so that his fingers
didn't touch things that they shouldn't.

There was only one thing for it. After releasing the quietly
sobbing little girl, he lumbered off towards the public toilets
to get relief from Mrs Palmer and her five daughters.

"Are you alright Debbie?" asked an awed Stephanie. People ask the
silliest questions at times: of course her friend wasn't alright!

"N-no, b-but I'll b-be O-OK s-soon" Debbie managed to reply as
she pulled up her panties and smoothed down her uniform dress. "I
just n-need to go to the l- loo."

"I'll come with you" said Stephanie in a tone that tried to be
brave.

"N-no, it's Ok th-thanks Steph. I'll be alright. Y-you'd better
get to school now, or you'll be late. And if you're late" she
went on with the ghost of a smile, "you might get punished."

"Are you sure?" the other girl asked, the prospect of getting the
strap like her friend had been frightening the wits out of her.

"Yes, I'm sure" Debbie said in a firm tone. The firmness was
dictated not by concern for her friend, but for her increasingly
urgent need for relief.

As soon s Stephanie disappeared down the steps towards No 1
platform, Debbie made for the toilets. As chance would have it,
there were no vacant cubicles, so she had to fret with impatience
for the next few minutes. Finally inside one, with the door
fastened closed, she sat on the seat, pulled up her dress and
spread her legs. With a sigh of relief she thrust her small hand
down inside the front of her little white cotton panties and
began to finger herself.

Ohhhh, it was sooo good! She rubbed and rubbed and rubbed
herself, up and down the little pink slit, pressing her fingers
hard against her little hot and throbbing nub each time. After
only a few minutes she came, as she'd never come before,
shuddering and gasping and moaning. In fact it was so intense
that she nearly passed out.