Trolley No. 1852

other for the Pyramidiles, I considered, Or perhaps—

From where I crouched in hiding, I felt a tap upon my shoulder; and in horrific slowness, I turned my head and looked up…

The motorman loomed above me, still clothed but unmasked now, and somehow glowering, however facelessly. The tentacle sprouting from the drooping splotch-fleshed cone where its face should’ve been, jiggled hideously, the tip reddened as if dipped in blood.

God save me, I prayed for the first time in my life.

The motorman shot its boneless hands downward, latched onto my shoulders, and dragged me up; and as if I weighed no more than a grasp of straw, I was flung over the vestibule to land with a shuddering thud upon the dead, lackluster soil of this deranged place. At once I was surrounded by the troop of naked, flaccid-penised thoggs.

Selina raised herself to elbows, the pain of this surprise plain on her face. “Oh, Morgan, you shouldn’t have done this. Coming to the club was bad enough but now? Stowing away on the trolley? You’ve no idea what peril you’ve put yourself in…”

Winded, I staggered to my feet. “I’ve been searching for you for years, Selina,” I nearly wept. “And now that I’ve found you, I know I must do everything in my power to rescue you from this, this evil.”

“There can be no rescuing, Morgan—it’s impossible. Miss Aheb will never let me go, and these thoggs are undefeatable. This is my plight now, and it will never change unless Miss Aheb grows weary of me.”

“Weary? Selina, I don’t understand.”

“When it started out, I was just one of the working girls at the club. Free food and shelter, in this economy? We were starving on the street, Morgan. The club provided us with an arrangement none of us could refuse,” she explained. “But Miss Aheb soon took a personal fancy to me, and I would no longer service the johns, only her, plus other duties… like this.”

What an atrocious subjugation, I thought but even as a hundred questions occurred to me, I was prevented from giving voice to a single one, for the most brutish of the naked thoggs shoved me roughly and pointed with a jointless finger down to where my sister lay.

“The thoggs are ultimately vicious,” Selina told me with a tear in her eye, “and ultimately perverse.”

The thing shoved me again but for a reason that alluded me.

“It wants you… to fuck me, Morgan,” came my sister’s groaning voice. “They want to watch.”

I stood aghast. “I could never in a million y—”

“Morgan, sick as it is, you must.”

“But that’s incest!” I outraged. “The most irredeemable of nature’s aberrations!”

She sobbed openly now. “If you don’t… they’ll kill you. But you can be guaranteed that it will be a very slow death. The thoggs are bred for torture, Morgan. They exist to inflict pain, and they’re very good at it.”

I turned to the most salient of them. “Then so be it! You’ll not coerce me to defile my sister, you pestiferous, para-dimensional degenerate! Go ahead and kill me!”

Two of the things grabbed my arms, but it was not toward me that the commandant embarked. It was toward Selina.

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 unerect; 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 pelvic 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.”