yes and yes

"Here, why don't we talk in here a minute? We'll have a little privacy." The middleaged kiddie train owner-operator gestures to the red caboose at the end of the wooden passenger. This car has only little portholes instead of the open windows of the other passenger-type cars.

The paunchy man in the overalls sits across from you on another benchseat. "You know sometimes it doesn't pay to advertise." He traces his fingers over the 'spank me' embroidery stretched across the front of your still heaving tits. "You don't know who might take you up on it."

Still afraid from the episode with the boys, you leap for the doorway. You don't make it through. His hand grabs at your tank strap, ripping it as he hauls you towards him, pushing your ass across his lap.

"Yeah, I knew you were a wild one when I saw you cross the bridge," he said as he held you in place with one big paw in the middle of your back. "Called over and told my boys so, too." His other hand cracked across the SPANK of your shorts, and then across the ME. He yanks the waistband higher, your cheeks once again presented for ****.

"Please, mister, stop," you plead as he continues to blister your bare flesh. "Anything else. My hiney can't take no more."

"Oh, I think it will. I'm the conductor and I'll tell you when the ride stops." He pushes you face first toward the opposite bench, yanking down the tight red shorts, hobbling you at the knees.

He pulls his drooling dick from his zip and wedges it between your cheeks, not stopping until he pushes inside your tight asshole. 

You both grunt together as you diddle your clit while your backdoor is porked. As you climax, he pulls out and splashes over your sore red cheeks.

"There's some salve for your poor hiney, now on your way!" he says, zipping up and leaving the car.

You replace your ruined tank with your Rock Wall t-shirt and head bowl-legged back towards the food court.