Trolley No. 1852 (11 page)

It fell on her at once,
and when she screamed it was into her opened mouth that the ghastly
beast inserted its boneless hand. Meanwhile one of the others did
the same to her sex, until they were both
reaching into her
from either
direction. I sensed all too clearly that they intended to
eviscerate Selina, trans-orally and trans-vaginally.

“Stop!” I bellowed so loud I feared my eyes
would leap from their sockets. “I consent to your demand!”

Had the things been able
to grin, I’m certain they’d have been doing so now. They removed
their offending hands from Selina’s body, while some psychic
command urged her to position herself on hands and knees. Now it
was
I
who sobbed
openly; to my own knees I then fell, and unfastened my
trousers.

The pallid monsters clustered closer around,
their eyeless faces intent on the scenario. I concentrated on the
plushness of Selina’s rump while forcing myself not to perceive the
grotesque skin-tone. My member, however, hung limp, useless.

I croaked. “Selina, I
can’t possibly grow sufficiently aroused under
these
circumstances! You’re
my
sister!
”

“You have to try,” she panted, and shot a
pleading glance over her shoulder. “They’ll kill us both…”

Humiliated, I stroked my
flaccid flesh, all to no effect. More inhibiting was the notion
that I was being spectated by not only the revolting thoggs but by
the immense Pyramidiles who towered all about. All the while, my
member remained very grimly
un
erect; and while Ammi and her
slatternly sorority back at the club had marveled over its
ostensibly greater-than-average size when inflamed, this
situation’s horror left it anything but. I stroked on in futility,
while I knew that however voicelessly, the thoggs were laughing at
its pitiable size.

“Let me help,” my sister
whispered, and up betwixt her own legs came her hand, to gently
manipulate my penis.
I MUST perform to
their satisfaction,
I focused on the
thought and its severity,
otherwise both
of our lives could end in this wretched place…

“Just relax, relax,” she whispered further,
fingers first tending my slack testicles, then the even more slack
shaft, and then—

Perhaps the decadent
French writers were correct in their esoteric allusions to a link
between death and sexuality (their
La
Petite Morte
) for the more I focused on
the possibility that impotence would result in our
destruction…

My member
swelled.

If anything, the sudden
erection sprouted even longer than before—longer than
ever
—until it thumped,
bobbing up and down. I knew that the thoggs had been, in their own
non-verbal manner, laughing at me before, but—

They’re not laughing
now,
I thought, assured. They could all
detect that the dimensions of
my
genital shaft easily exceeded that of even the
largest of them. When Selina’s hand measured its entire length, she
gasped, “Good
gracious,
Morgan. I had no idea you were so…”

She needn’t finish; instead it may have even
been with some secret eagerness that her deft fingers brought my
purpled glans to her folds.

“Now!” she panted.

I nudged it in, then
grasped her hips and commenced to stroking. The familiar wet
slapping resounded as I increased tempo, sliding my erection (each
and every of its proven twelve inches) all the way in and all the
way out. Simultaneously, my left hand slipped round and under, to
gently agitate her surprisingly excited clitoris, and with that,
Selina began to moan with vigor. I stepped up my
pel
vic rhythm then, pursuing a crescendo;
whereupon my sister quite waveringly squealed. Her back arched like
that of a cat; every tendon in her body tensing; and then her
climax spasmed and broke most obviously. She writhed and bucked,
even shrieked to the capacity of her lungs, to the extent that the
blissful vociferation echoed within the vast valleys between the
mammoth Pyramidiles. I cursed myself for acknowledging my own
incestuous pleasure, for as her orgasm drew on quite lengthily,
Selina’s interior vagina constricted to an unfathomable tautness
which brought me past the margin of my own return. This next
seminal ration
gusted
from my loins in innumerous spurts, and with the release I
experienced my own ecstatic culmination, the potency of which I
would’ve never believed possible…

When both of our spasms
abated, Selina collapsed. “For goodness
sake,
Morgan. Never in my life have
I had such a wonderful f—”

“You needn’t say it, Selina,” I severed her
profanity. “As you’ve directed, we had no choice but to sully
ourselves for the whims of these things,” but when I looked around
I sensed disappointment about the mien of the thoggs, or rather
even displeasure. My forced performance for their mere sport seemed
to have left them in agitation rather than satisfaction.

Selina sensed it too,
obviously attuned to them either by indoctrination or some totemic
function of her queer pendant. She even giggled. “They’re
jealous,
Morgan.”

I refastened my trousers. “Jealous?” I
questioned but suddenly the notion made sense. Not only was I
possessed of more substantial genitals (the utmost symbol of
masculinity) but I had also demonstrated a further degree of sexual
superiority over them: my efforts alone had brought Selina to a
devastating climax, whereas theirs had not.

“Will they let us go, now that we’ve done as
they ordered?”

Selina knelt as she faced me; her shoulders
slumped. “Not… just… yet…”

It was the clothed motorman who approached,
then slapped me across the head.

“What?” I blathered. “What is this?”

“They’re furious that you out-performed
them, Morgan,” came my sister’s disconsolate reply. “They won’t let
us go back until you’ve sufficiently debased yourself. It’s their
way of getting back at you, for proving that you’re more masculine
than all of them.”

I couldn’t imagine what she might be
implying, but then imagination was hardly necessary a moment later
when the motorman lowered his trousers and extracted the harrowing
genitals.

“You have to take him in your mouth,” came
Selina’s regretful words.

“In the name of all things decent and pure!”
I caterwauled.

“And you’ll have to swallow it all. Only
then will they be satisfied… That way, they get their last laugh,
in spite of your manly prowess… by turning you into their bitch, so
to speak.”

Despair couldn’t have lengthened my face
further. Since the motorman’s release with Miss Aheb, enough time
had passed to permit full sexual revivification; the thing was
ready again, in other words, and to that state of readiness I could
all-too-awfully attest. The grotesque organ had already become
engorged by the thing’s mere thought of what impended.

“Just do it, Morgan,” my
sister pleaded. “You don’t want to
know
how many times I’ve had
to…”

To this end I resigned myself; I’d be doing
it not only to spare my own life but Selina’s as well. So I steeled
myself with every mental fortitude… took the appalling thing into
my mouth.

Having had no experience
in such things, however, I hadn’t a clue as to what I was doing. I
harnessed initiative only via the deduction that I must do my best
to
imagine
the
proper technique…

In only seconds that dreadful “carrot”
hardened to full size in my quivering mouth.

Inept as I was sure my oral subventions
were, the motorman seemed overly pleased by the effort. Each time I
drew my lips rearward, along the organ’s tapering form, I increased
the suction, which caused the beast’s hips to fidget.

“Faster now,” Selina instructed. “And… get
ready…”

I forced the implication from conscious
thought, proceeding as instructed. Then…

The motorman’s
“jism”
poured
into my mouth.

The effect was worse than
any conjecture. My face seemed to turn to stone after my first
gulp. To assign simile to the
taste
of the evil slew defied possibility. Gout after
gout, it issued, each mouth-filling allotment seeming thicker than
the previous, and more lumpen.

“Keep swallowing, Morgan!” my sister
implored. “Don’t spit up!”

Easier communicated than
achieved. Numbed to my brain, I forced myself to mechanically
pause, then swallow, pause, then swallow. The stuff was hot, and I
could swear I actually felt spermatozoic constituents
moving around on my tongue
each time my oral cavity was re-filled. I could only imagine
that the forced consumption of carrion or even excreta would be
more agreeable than this…

I reeled on my knees after the abatement of
the motorman’s final spurt, that last deposit being thick as
gelatin. My stomach threatened to heave and properly eject the
violation, but I gathered all my forbearance, fisted my hands, and,
shuddering, swallowed the whole gelatinous mass.

“You did it!” Selina congratulated.

When the hideous lump at last sunk to the
pit of my squirming gut, I collapsed posthaste into a dead
faint.

2.

Some inestimable time later, my senses
seemed to rise, akin to putrefactive gases voiding from a lime-pit.
It was upon the pristine floor of Miss Aheb’s lavish yet eldritchly
lit bed-chamber that my consciousness re-found me; in fact, my
first sight was that of the corrupt chandelier suspended overhead,
shimmering in its queer anti-light.

Of the
dimension-transcending trolley-ride back, I remembered nary a
detail. I was alone, however, and as I roused myself, I checked my
pocket-watch to see, to my dismay, that the time was but
four-thirteen in the
morn
…

Only
one minute
later than when I’d
checked so long ago!

The watch continued to tick, though, the
second-hand revolving…

Just like Erwin mentioned. This place, and
that horrendous domain I’ve just returned from, must exist in some
daedalic contravention of time…

A strange tapping cut into my ruminations,
tapping which I recognized eventually as footsteps. It was my
sister, maskless but dressed once more in her conductor’s garb, who
crossed the mosaic flooring. The chamber’s bizarre acoustics lent
to her voice an uncanny echo. “Oh, Morgan, I’m so sorry about what
they made you do.”

“It was of my own free volition that I came
here in the first place, and of my own free volition that I
smuggled myself aboard Trolley 1852,” I recited. “All in the
interest in finding you.”

“You’re such a gallant man, Morgan. I can
only imagine your disgust with me.”

“Disgust?” I asked, irked. “You’re my only
sibling, and I love you with my whole heart. Please know that.”

“But to learn that your only sibling could
stoop so low as to submit to prostitution…”

“My dearest sister, what you must also know
is that I fully understand the travails that force women to resort
to such alternatives. In these times of economic cataclysm, women
even more than men suffer from the throes of subjugation.”
Groggily, I sat up. “This, believe me, I comprehend, and I love you
no less.”

Selina seemed relieved to
hear this, relieved enough even to sob. But what I simply
could
not
reckon
was the hideousness of her maligned complexion, the once-beauteous
countenance made appalling by the swirls of phlegmatic-green mixed
with fish-belly white. “I had no choice but to consign myself to
the life of a common street-whore but even then I was homeless and
barely able to eat…”

“I
understand
that,” I reiterated.
“But… what I
don’t
understand is…”

“The change,” she finished
for me, and touched her face with loath. “Eventually some girls
corralled me into the club, but as I briefly explained earlier, I
did not service johns for long after my arrival. It turned out,
Miss Aheb fell in love with me, so… she
changed
me…”

“Your skin,” I knew. “She effected a
metamorphosis, to make your skin like hers”—I gulped—“and like the
skin of Pyramidiles and the thoggs.”

“With this, yes,” she
explicated, fingering the pendant. “The change allows me to live
forever, but this is what I’ll have to do…
forever.
She wants me all to
herself; and when I’m not servicing her, I conduct the trolley and,
every week or so, see to the transport of our… collection across
the ingression threshold.”

Collection,
I thought numbly.
The
constant collection of human semen to be used for God knows what by
the Pyramidiles…

“The legend is true,” I droned. “The club’s
matron, Miss Aheb, and the witch-priestess Isimah el-Aheb of
thousands of years bygone are one in the same!”

Did the chandelier’s counter-light suddenly
climb in intensity? It was Miss Aheb herself who next strode into
the chamber, adorned in the diaphanous black gown which highlighted
her preeminent physique. Yet the sleek arms and legs, the plunging
decolletage, and her face remained abhorrent by her skin’s
similarity to that of the mountainous Pyramidiles. I knew now that
the leviathanic monsters had, through some occult mode, shared
their hideous skin with Miss Aheb and Selina. What other traits
beyond appearance might this dermal metamorphosis have
instigated?