Amusing Train Ride

Chapter 7 Bullets for Breakfast; Swords for Lunch

"Sexual intercourse is kicking death in the ass while singing." - Charles Bukowski

*

We arrived at the end of our Pullman car and paused before exiting onto the enclosed platform that separated it from the passenger car that was next in line. I noticed that Mel had remained in the sleeping compartment but gave the fact little thought, my attention being directed at our more immediate activity.

Mel had given me silver-jacked bullets for my derringer, pistol, and Drilling all of which were .44 cal. She insisted that I wear riding boots and slip the long thin leaf-blade of a throwing stiletto into the top of each. I hung my Bowie knife under my coat on my left side and slipped the holster of the pistol onto my belt fastening the buckle under it so that it lay across my stomach. The butt of the huge pistol rode near my right hipbone, its muzzle nuzzling the left.

"You by now have surely realized that either you are in a very strange dream or an equally strange reality. Either way, many events will come to pass in the immediate future, which will change much that you think and believe; far too many for me to guess, let alone explain and since each of these may be predicated on the other, I would have to alert you to thousands of possibilities."

"But you know more than you are telling me!" I hissed back at him.

"Infinitely, to be sure," again with the ambiguous smile, "but therein lies the conundrum, doesn't it?"

"Fuck you!"

"Perhaps," he grinned, for the first time showing teeth and a sparkle in his eyes, "but you must ask in a much nicer tone and at a more appropriate time."

"Look my young friend, this is a train to Hades and it is your lot to play your role to see that it reaches its destination, in tact. To accomplish that considerable chore you will have to draw on all of your reserves of charm, skill, physical stamina, and plain puck. So loose your license-to-whine certificate and realize that this is a death-dealer's train that is out of control."

We had been wending our way through the length of each of the cars on the train toward the rear. Dred listened at each door, for what I couldn't fathom. He wouldn't say. He was a strange fellow, indeed. He indicated by a motion, that I should precede him through the door. The only sound was the seemingly ever-present present wind of the prairie.

After turning the latch, he jerked open the door and I stepped through, not knowing what to expect, but ready for anything, shotgun at the ready and feeling quite the dunce.

I found myself standing on the small platform between the cars. This was an enclosed space that was the width of the train and about six feet long surrounded by the end rails of both cars. He opened the door that led from the inter-spatial area above the coupler of the train to the interior of the car. I would step onto that platform and open the door that led to the next car. After listening, he would kick the door open for me to leap through.

After repeating this asinine behavior three or four times and finding no one, I wanted an explanation. Instead, my partner pointed behind us where to my amazement, I saw a huge bitch mastiff padding along. The beast had a quizzical look upon its face and the saddest eyes of any animal I could remember seeing in my life.

The great beast sniffed the air at the door that led out of the passenger car in which we were standing. I felt an eerie tingling near my anus (not at all erotic), much more of the gallows than the bedroom, creeping up to my spine at the sight of this fierce animal, trained to fight and bred to kill, standing with the hair on it's neck bristled like a bottle brush.

A low pitched and nearly silent rumble vibrated from its throat as it approached the door, legs stiff, every muscle ready to attack. Dred knelt and took the animal's muzzle in his long, cold hands and looked deeply into its eyes.

"It is time. The abomination awaits."

He opened the door into the space between the cars and I stepped through. As my foot hit the platform, I caught the scent of death and heard the sound of hooves on the hard surface of the interior of the next railcar. It was as if some great hoofed beast were pacing and stomping just on the other side of the door that I faced. My stomach had turned into ice and my throat was dry. I had a nearly irresistible urge to urinate. I felt as though pure fear was radiating through that door. Dred stepped beside me and gave me his little grin and added a wink for measure.

"Keep moving." He said.

Then he kicked in the door and I stepped through into the darkness of the interior.

Now the stench of death washed over me in waves, threatening to over power me. I choked as nausea welled up into my throat filling my mouth with a bitter taste. I swallowed bile and waited for my eyes to adjust.

"Keep moving." Dred yelled to me.

I stepped my right and forward just as I saw movement in the far end of the car it was something big, big and fast. Carnivore? Grizzly? Maybe? I dodged to my left and lifted my rifle to my shoulder.

It raised its arm and hurled something at me.

"Nope, not a griz," I recall thinking just as the glint of light streaming through a crack in the side of the car glinted off the smooth, wicked looking spear point. A spear point headed directly at me!

Spear was hurled with such force that when it struck me in my midsection, I was lifted from the deck and carried backward for several feet. I owed my survival to the fact that one of Mr. Colt's finest Walker pistols had been in its path and caught the point. I had no time to reflect on the philosophical irony of the situation because with a roar, the monster commenced its charge at me. I was in no position to protect myself. I was being swept by successive waves of nausea caused by the crushing compression of my diaphragm when it absorbed the force of the spear. I was spewing my breakfast out onto my front.

I lifted the spear and pointed the heavy, blunt, butt end at the monster's chest while at the same time digging the razor bronze point into the oak deck planks. Up on contact, the horror's momentum caused the shaft to shatter and the sharp spine penetrated the center of its chest until it protruded from its back. It continued to reach for me and swung its massive horned head to and fro attempting to impale me on its horns. Its actions imbedded the spear point deeper into the floor.

Scrambling, I managed to retrieve the shotgun from the corner where it had stopped skidding over the deck. I cocked the hammer just as the barrel-chested beast backed off the broken end of the spear and looked at me, shaking it's deformed head. It bellowed and turned away from me to walk to the far end of the car where it turned again.

I realized that it was preparing to charge! Was it immortal? Bright red gushed from the hole in its chest spattering the deck a crimson wash. My nostrils filled with the sickening stench of fresh blood. It lowered its head and again bellowed, scraping the floor with its hoof, searching for purchase. Suddenly it found a solid sticking place and lunged toward me, a bloody froth spewing from its nose and mouth. I imagined what a matador must feel like as the full two thousand pounds weight of the beast roared by me when I turned and stepped aside to let it pass, its horns missing my face by the thickness of a shadow.

It skidded to a stop just before crashing into the far end wall of the car. My face felt sticky-slick. I whipped my forehead and eyes, glanced at my hand to see smears of bloody foam. I knew that I might bring it down as I had the Cape Buffalo who's head hung on my den wall, with one very fortunate shot. I also know that I might not and that might be catastrophic. What else to do? This beast had hands! And then I saw why it had sparred me so willingly. From the far wall it had plucked two weapons, a shield and a sword.

"Can we talk this over before you kill me?"

The creature stopped cold. A deep rolling laugh rumbled up from its great chest. A combination of the laugh and the wound with the internal bleeding must have caused it to choke because it gagged and fell to its knees, dropping the thick round shield until the edge rested on the deck boards. Slowly the tip of the mighty sword dipped until it too rested on the floor. A new flow of blood and froth poured from the wounds and from its nose and mouth. It coughed, spattering me with flecks of bloody bubbles.

"Would you stop that?" I admonished. "Now I can still kill you or do you damage, but why? Except for scaring the bijous out of me and trying to skewer with that monstrous toad sticker that you hurt yourself with, I have no beef (pun intended) with you. Who put you up to this anyway?"

"You poor human fool; think of what you know of me! I am Minotaur; the product of the unnatural union of a human woman and a sacred bull."

"My diet is of human flesh, even more so than yours does of beef. We are mutual enemies I must kill you to survive. Every so often I require food and that food is the tender, young flesh of human girls or boys. I stalk them until I find them, catch them, and toy with them, abuse them and then, eat them, sometimes alive. It's really simple, no?"

" I have rested enough, now you die, and I feed, although you are going to be tough old piece of meat! But you know; I'm horny and want your ass, around my dick while you are dying, even with old farts like you make me feel good that way! The little ones scream, but I'm sure you will do fine!"

It stood again and raised its shield and sword. I shot it between its eyes with the rifle. The .44 cal slug made the sound of a gourd being smashed with a sledgehammer. It staggered backward and shook its mighty head while swinging the sword blade in a figure eight toward me. It coughed again and began to advance one unstable step at a time. I had no time to reload, but I had two barrels full of shot. I blew its eyes out.

It bellowed and charged in my direction, but I had leaped to the left and rolled managing to come up with my hawk in hand. It had stumbled and was on its knees, ears searching for me or any sound of my being. I threw the hawk across the railcar to have it lodge in the doorframe. It turned to the sound of the hawk and I cut its throat from behind with my Bowie knife. Then I plunged the 14-inch blade down through its back and into its heart.

It slowly toppled forward to crash down onto the deck, twitching as it died.

Dred was standing over it when I turned from retrieving my hawk. He placed his fingers on its throat and again on its wrist, before he looked up at me.

"What was that that you were singing?" He asked.

"Singing? Was I singing?" I asked.

All that said he was, "It's dead."

I cut off its head with my fighting knife.

"Where the fuck were you, because you sure weren't covering my back?"

"Now I had no idea that this was the abomination that you were going to find in here, but you can see why I hesitated to tell you?"

"I am not at all understanding of your behavior! You knew this horror was here and you didn't warn me! And where were you when I was fighting for my life here? And just who the hell are you anyway?"

"We will meet other dangers before we are finished with the train. What I cannot say which or when because I don't know. You are here for a reason, as am I."

I gave up on that line of questioning and chose to pursue a slightly different course. "Is that thing really what it said it was? That is not possible!"

"Then you very skillfully destroyed an impossible creature."

"Oh now, really old chum, artificial insemination or bestiality with a bull and a woman, even if possible, will not result in a living, viable monster like this," and I nudged the now stiffening carcass with my toe.

"We have other work to do now, and don't worry about me covering your back should the need arise, I'll be there for you."

"But a bull copulating with a woman is a bit much to accept."

You haven't been to Tijuana to see the fuck shows there, have you?"

"Actually I have been to Tijuana and yes I saw the posters advertising "Women and donkeys and dogs", but I doubted that too. Still, a bull is so much bigger than a woman."

"I'll tell you the whole sorted story some day, but as I have said, we have much to do and little time to do it in." He placed his fingers into his mouth and whistled a piercing blast. A moment later Mel strode into the car dressed for combat.

"Nice to see that you could make it," he greeted her with more than a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

"Now boys, let's be nice."

The brakemen must have herded the buffalo from the tracks because the train lurched and began moving slowly forward again.

"Ok, what's next on our little madcap tiptoe through this nightmare?" I asked because I knew that this was a hallucination or a vivid dream, I couldn't be reality and the trickery was too smooth for prestidigitations.

"How are you feeling? That javelin thrust to the gut should have pinned you to the floor, but you handled yourself very well and recovered nicely afterward. How did you manage that, by the way?" "Just lucky, it hit Mr. Walker."

"Ah ha, lucky indeed."

"So what might be in this next car?"

"Rumor was flesh eating horses, but I don't think so, shall we go in together? Or I could climb up and drop in through the vent port in the roof? Your call."

I at him and then I pointed up. He nodded and swung up the ladder to the roof of the rail car.

I checked my weapons once more and this time slipped quietly into the car. This car had three compartments on each side and an open isle running its length. Unlike the last car, this was rather pleasant. It was quite dimly lit and had a smoky or foggy atmosphere. A small brazier sat at the transept of the distant end and from it poured a thick blue fragrant smoke.

Standing around the brazier were several stone statues in different poses, most seemed to be handsome young men. I reminded myself that this dream was Greek themed and many of the spas and bathhouses that I had frequented were decorated in such a motif.

Then I became aware of the music. It was a thin willowy tune in the upper register played on a reed whistle or on panpipes. Under this was a sound reminiscent of the quiet hiss of snakes and the scraping noise of scales on the deck.

I felt the hair on my scalp tingle and rise up when I saw the shadow of a hooded figure on the wall behind the flickering with the flames from the guttering torches near the brazier. It moved as if floating instead of walking. It turned and looked my way and I was overcome with a deep sadness and longing for company. I felt my self being relieved of all power over my own form and my feet began to take one halting, shuffling step after another toward this new menace.

I began to feel an excitement in my groin, my penis became erect almost instantly and was much more turgid than ever before. As this stiffness grew, I began to become numb and heavy like a great weight hung where my proud penis had once been!

Still I couldn't stop! As I passed the center of the car, I looked up for my friends to drop from the ventilation cupola but not only was there no evidence of them, I thought that I saw dozens of large snakes. Sure enough, unfolding and dropping from their hiding place above me, were several young women.

Before I could do more than attempt a single useless shot, they were all over me and had removed my coat and shirt. They found all my weapons and then kissed and licked my body all over. I began to wonder if maybe I had misunderstood the danger.

Then the game got seriously hard.

They pinned my arms to the floor, spread-eagled, face up by driving my two stilettos, one through each of my forearms just above my wrists. Then one cut my belt and pulled my pants down to my ankles before she slashed through them at the crotch. I kicked at her face and had the short-lived satisfaction of feeling my boot heel connect with her nose with a sickening crunching sound as her nose collapsed into her face.

"Ohh, you son of a mutant human pig! You will pay for that! I'll have you balls for beads, you son of Zeus! Have you any idea how long this will take to heal? You think I can just pop out a new nose, fucker?" Her voice had the congested quality of a person who has a bad case of adenoids.

The two who were standing on my arms caught my feet, but one was leaning far enough forward to be off balance that I could swing her forward and send her sprawling. At this point, the one holding my foot and knee knelt on one knee by my head.

I tried to kick her in the head and to sink my teeth into her thigh to hamstring her. She was too quick. She first secured my free leg by slipping her elbow through behind my knee, she methodically pounded on my face with her fist, hitting my eyes, nose, and jaw, with enough force that I could not stop my head from bouncing off the hard oaken floor of the railcar.

Waves of darkness washed over me and I blessedly passed out. The respite was not long and I awoke thinking that I was drowning. They were pouring a steady stream of water into my nose and mouth. My eyes were swollen shut, but I felt my legs and feet had been spread wide, pulled over my head, and held to the floor. My buttocks were bear and when I had began gagging from the water in my windpipe, I heard a sweet soprano voice say in Ancient Greek something to the effect that "He is coming around."

A moment passed and my ass felt pain like never before. I first thought I was being branded, but then I heard the "swish" of the whips just before the pain. I screamed or at least I tried to, but my mouth was stuffed with a filthy rag and held in with a gag that worked like a surgeon's mask. I lost count after five more and lost consensus soon after, but I awakened drowning again. Whipped and drowned, whipped and drown until I would have begged them to just kill me. They didn't even ask me any questions.

Finally I heard the soprano voice say that she wanted to have the first go now that I was softened up sufficiently. My wrists ached horribly. My ass was afire and my feet and legs were numb. I suspected that my neck was broken. What more can they do, I wondered? Much, as it turned out. I felt a cool sensation under my balls and realized that one of them was moving an ice cube or blunt icicle around on my pudendum a very cold hand lightly gripped my scrotum and pulled my testicles out away from my body, stretching them to the max.

"Oh God! Here comes castration!" I thought, but I was wrong, at least for the moment.

The ice moved upward over my limp dick to the head where it circled around the head until I was shriveled and numb.

"Ah, what a lovely little whinny whinie. How boyish it is, so adolescent, so ripe for the plucking. I can't resist. Relax little one, you will love this part." With that she savagely jammed the dull ice rod into my asshole. Shivers coursed through my frame. She stroked my cock with one hand while she twisted and levered the inch thick finger of ice around eight inches inside my rectum.

I whimpered every time she passed it over my prostate gland and I felt the surge of pressure. My ass was freezing numb. When the ice became small, she would snap it off and replace it with her finger before she would begin with another piece. Water ran down my butt crack and pooled on the floor under my lower back and up my under my spine.

I managed to open an eye enough to see her. At first I thought that it was Mel, but with black hair that seemed to be in constant motion. I almost spoke to her, but I couldn't hold my head up any longer, but my cock seemed to have a mind of its own. It slowly began to enlarge and as it grew, it became more rigid. I was as hard and smooth as marble. She had been squatting with one hand in my ass, her other in her pussy. She appeared to be frigging herself with the hand on her pussy. She had begun with one finger and over a short time, she pushed in another and then another until she had four fingers in to their last knuckle. As she pushed her hand into her cunt, she also shoved her other hand into my asshole. I was stretched to the max; my ass seemed to scream in protest.