Chapter #23

Declan 2.0 (All Aboard)

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In the dim light, I could see Rosy casting several
glances at me while singing. I'm sure she couldn't tell
I was awake and listening. I think she's in love with
me.
Then she got up, locked the door, and came over to
my cell door. She stuck her key in and turned it
slowly. It scared me. My heart started beating a
nervous beat as she unlocked my cell door, quietly
looking around all sneaky like.
Holy crap! She is going to come in here and fuck me
right into the VTC lab. There is no way we're not
going to get caught. I curled up and buried my head
in the sheets. I tried to lay there as still and quiet as I
could under the circumstances. I was hard as a rock
and trembling.
I heard soft footsteps sneak over to the side of my
bed, stopping a couple of times on the way. Then she
placed her hand gently on my shoulder and
whispered, “Wakey, wakey, hands off snakey.”
“No, no,” I whimpered. “I'm too tired, leave me alone.”
And then I pretended to start snoring. I didn’t want to
wind up like Slimey in the virtual torture chamber.
“Wakey, wakey” she said, while shrugging my
shoulder.
“Oh,” I groaned as I rolled over and looked up at her.
“We can't. We'll get caught,” I whispered.
She stripped the covers and sheets right off of me,
thumped my pecker wood right on its head, smiled
and said, “We have to go, now.”
“But I don't want to,” I proclaimed. “I just wanna go
back to sleep.”
Her face went from smiling to pissed as the hand on
my shoulder grabbed my collar. She pulled me close

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to her face to whisper, “Get up, get dressed, right
now.”
“Okay, okay,” I said. “Where are we going?” I
whispered while gazing at her firm body in the dim
light.
A devilish smile lit her face as she nodded and said,
“The Captain wants to see you.”
I was slightly dismayed. “The Captain?” I uttered
under my breath. I started to ask, but her finger
pressed my lips as she made the Shhhhh sound to
silence me.
“Come on,” she said, as she stood up straight and
went into a stance and stature that indicated she was
guarding a prisoner. She looked so sexy, I wanted to
take her right there.
She proceeded to escort me down the hall and
around the corner. We were coming up on Butter’s
cage and I heard him saying something in a low
whisper.
Rosy was less than amused. If looks could kill.
In his stupid doggy voice, it sounded like he said
something like, “Shhhsssomebody likes
yourRaharrrrr profile,” wearing his stupid doggy grin
and wagging his tail. In his stupid doggy voice.
We went up into the offices section of the Jail where
there were mostly empty desks with holo projectors in
their respective positions, ready to spit out the daily
reports and work. There was a couple of guards
watching their monitors. One of them was playing
The Jetson's. I thought of Mom while Rosy escorted
me through a large door with a frosted glass pane
that read in clear lettering, “Captain” on it. It was
adjacent to one that read “Warden” on it.
There was nobody behind the desk. Rosy pulled a
chair out for me and said, “I'm sure Kirk will be here
any moment.”
I was tripping. This was it. They want me to sign up.
No freaking way. No freaking way. I don't want to be a

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sex slave. I don't think I can even have sex with ugly
women. Who else would be willing to pay for such a
thing?
“I have to leave now,” I said with worried eyes. Miffed,
she turned around and shook her ass at me and said,
“Come on Doobie Doobie Du, I know you love it.”
She is a stone-cold fox. But as entertaining as the
whole butt thing was, it was just really not my style.
But the question that I had asked myself, “Who but
ugly women?” was echoing in my head as I sat in the
densely silent room.
My imagination spurred an answer.
Freaks.
Fucking Freaks.
Literally.
Ohly, crapola, fucking sex freaks.
I've heard rumors about these creatures.
Eyes wide, I looked up at Rosy and started to say
something.
The doorknob woke the room as the door opened
wide.
In walked a well-dressed man in a pinstriped suite.
He looked like a Philadelphia lawyer with thinning
gray and brown hair. He sat down behind the desk,
leaned back and kicked his feet up, then turned his
head towards a wall paneled with a walnut wainscot
and called out, “Nigbone.”
And out from one of the panels, located under a bar,
in the far corner of his office popped out a drone
shaped like an over-sized bullet standing on edge.
It was about five feet tall and its dome shaped head
spun around. Nigbone had rollers on two legs that
started at its shoulders and went down to the
ground. They wheeled him over next to me. He was
glossy black with gold squares arrayed around his
dome top. There was a bright blue square in the top
of his body that seemed to denote his front side.

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I hate robots. It began to whistle high-pitched noises
in rhythms of speech.
Kirk said to it, “Yes, love potion number nine.” Then
he put the back of his hand up to his mouth and said
to Rosy, “He's going to need it.”
She smiled back at him.
The drone's dome popped up, revealing a chilled
frosty glass with some nozzles pointing into it.
I looked up at Captain Kirk and said, “No way. I ain’t,
no way, no how signing up for this.”
They both looked at each other and laughed. Then
Rosy slid her hands up and down her body in a
provocative manner and said, “Duboc, you rode the
piggy. You're in.”
Then Kirk put his head down then tilted it towards
me wearing a silly face and made some squealing
noises.
Rosy smacked him upside his head in playful yet
painful way.
“Relax,” he said as Nigbone elevated the frosty glass
under my lips.
Then Rosy drew the word 'This', out of her mouth as
she said, “Thissssssss or Hissssler.”
“But I didn't do anything, I swear it.”
Miss Piggy wiggled her ass and mocked me while
laughing with Kirk and said, “I swear it, I swear it,”
while shaking her ass and dancing in a circle.
Holy smokey, I'm a sex slave in the pokey.
“Mr. Fonzarelli, would you like to see the profile I
made for you?” Kirk asked.
“Drinky, drinky,” Rosy said.
Then Kirk wiggled his finger, gesturing me to lean
forward, and said, “I take a lot of pride in these
things, you know.” Then he sprayed something into
my eyes unexpectedly. He looked over at Nigbone and
snapped his fingers.
Out of the blue window projected a hologram of me
on the Jail cameras. It was a holo-feed of me pulling

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up to the prison that very first day. I was getting out
of the rear door of the desert crawler in my tutu.
Doom, the feeling of doom fell all over me like rain. All
desperation flew away from me as I closed my eyes,
lowered my head and sipped the number nine. I have a
feeling I'm going to need it.
I opened my eyes and there was a stunningly
beautiful, buxom blonde smiling and waving at me in
the VeeM.
I was shocked. Then she moved over and sat down on
a love seat in a well-tailored room.
She rubbed her hand on the seat as though to invite
me, or whoever was watching the holo-feed, to join
her. Her classy yet sexy dress had a slit running up
the length of her shapely leg. I was amazed. This is
unbelievable. It was so enticing until I saw a familiar
catdog jump up into the spot that this beautiful
woman was rubbing.
Holy Moley. Panic ensued briefly until I looked back
at her pretty face and I couldn't resist the urge to
make mad, passionate love to her. There were a lot
mixed emotions going on inside.
Kirk looked at Rosy and said, “I think it's working.”
Rosy nodded and said, “Come on, Doobie. It's a long
ride and it's almost time to go.”
I wondered where we were going and how we were
going to get there. As I got up, a touch of vertigo hit
me. I paused for an instant to re-grasp my sense of
balance.
I wondered what was in the drink as I followed Rosy
out a back door in the office. Captain Kirk waved and
said, “Behave yourself,” in a sarcastic voice.
I saw an exit door with a single see through pane in
the top. Looking through it, I saw a lit parking lot
sign in the distance. Rosy opened a hidden door that
was located at the end of the corridor next to the exit
door and stood beside it ushering me in while
blocking the exit door with her body.

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“Watch your step, Doobie,” she said while following
me in.
We went through the hidden door and immediately
descended on a dark escalator with very dim red
lights on the treads. We traveled deep underground
to a small train station. There were tracks with a
couple of square, painted, concrete pillars in front of
them, and an old Jet Blue, delousing station on the
other side of the corridor.
Rosy pointed her finger at the delousing station and
said, “We gotta be,” then she paused mimicking the
slogan, “bed bug free!”
The love potion had me feeling woozy, horny, and
desirable. I walked into the delousing chamber feeling
quite sexy. I left the curtain open, looked at Rosy,
then removed my pumpkin suit by shedding it slowly
off of my body piece by piece while looking deep into
her eyes. She seemed pleased with my performance.
Yeah, I'm quite sure that she's in love with me.
Whoa, but that blonde, I can't get her out of my
mind. The alcohol sprayed me down and started
drying as I wiped my hair with a thick gummy
solution that balled up when the water rinse and
dryer came on.
But that catdog, I thought. No way there could be two
of those creatures running around. I wonder if Suzy
escaped the loony bin and bought a new body?
No, no way that could've been her in disguise.
Rosy said, “Stay here, I have to go and gather the
others.”
Where am I supposed to go? I thought while watching
her lock the door to the escalator.
A clumsy, flat black android, with primer gray eyes,
mouth, bolts, and panels came wobbling up to me
with shirt, tie, and slacks in one hand and a pair of
shiny black leather penny loafers in his other. The
shoes had tassels and a one-inch heel.

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The android had a humanoid frame, head, face, and
hair resembling steel wool. Tiny lights flashed within
and on the surface of his hair. He bumped into me
and said, “Oh, excuse me, hello,” while shaking his
head side to side. He didn't have lips or skin, just a
voice coming out of a hole in a normal mouth
position.
I don't know why robots bother me so much.
Although I'm quite sure they're going to take over the
world someday. I laughed inside a little as I thought,
probably after the cat invasion. I don't know why I
even thought that, but I could see the seriousness in
The Walrus's eyes in my mind as I grabbed the
clothes and sat down on a concrete bench. Yeah, it
was painted a familiar color.
The android had a humble demeanor and spoke in a
kind voice, and said, “I'm D4 Peeonbone. I am here to
groom you to perfection for your date later, and to
tend to your comfort and pleasure.”
I looked him up and down with a confused look.
“Ugh, that's disgusting,” he remarked, “Not that kind
of pleasure.”
“What!?!,” I said in disbelief as he clanked away from
me.
I guess he thought I was checking him out. Stupid
android.
There was another guy and a couple of girls waiting
around with me. Rosy walked through the door with
a couple more prisoners. I couldn’t really tell the men
from the woman, with the pumpkin suits they made
us wear and the prison hairdos. I always look closely,
though. I have to. I fantasize about some the prettier
faces in here.
One of the escorts definitely had a very nice, feminine
face and eyebrows, surely a babe under the zoot suit.
And the other one had a little shadow around the
beard line.

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“Hurry up!” Rosy told them as she pushed them
toward the delousing chambers. D4 Pee-On was
rushing to bring them their outfits from a small
wardrobe facing the tracks.
I smiled nervously at one of the girls that was waiting
already. She smiled back, so I decided to eavesdrop
on their conversation. I heard something about a
Saint Andrews cross and a French tickler. I
immediately tuned them out.
Fuck me, I don't want anything to do with this. I don't
even know what they're talking about, but I know I
don't want any part of it.
I don't like being tickled.
I wanted to run and hide. I stood up and eased
myself over to the far end of the tunnel. I peeked over
at Rosy a couple of times on the way, to make sure
she wasn't paying me any attention, and I eased up
close to the tracks. I looked up one side and then
down the other, where I saw a train emerging out of
the darkness.
There was no escape. The tunnel was very close to
the same diameter of the train that had just laid
wheels to track. It sounded like thunder echoing
through the underground chamber as it wheeled into
the station. Before I could even think another
thought, the engine was right in front of me. Then it
hissed as the air brakes let off pressure.
I leaned back and started stepping back as well. The
ion-cushioning jets were glowing bright blue from
helping to hold up the electromagnetic track
defibrillator engine.
The train was gloss white and the powerhouse next to
me read, “Cotton Belt Railroad” in very large capital
letters across the top of the aerodynamic engine.
The front of the train protruded into the tunnel a foot
or so, preventing me from running like hell towards
the other side of what was surely a very long tunnel.

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Rosy commanded, “Fonzarelli, get your ass over
here.”
So, I reluctantly moseyed in her direction.
As I passed the first car, I heard its hood unlatch and
slide back then lock into position. I turned to see a
fork bot taking the fuel packs out of some racks, and
another rolled up with some recharged packs ready to
go. I turned back and there were some small windows
and a door in the back of the train car. The door was
marked servants only. The rest of the cars on the
train all looked pretty much identical, with Tri-oval
windows from the middle of the car and then up, just
rounding the top of the train. The next two cars were
guest quarters and the third was the kitchen and
food supply deck. Behind that was the diner/bar car
and then the last one had the slave quarters in the
very rear of the small train.
Rosy called out to everybody, “All aboard!” Then she
gave me a key and said, “You're in room 'C' as in
Cat.” See ya when you get back, cat” then she
paused, smiled and said, “Save some loving for me.”
I gave her a halfhearted smile and reluctantly I
entered the train car and found my stay. Room 'C' as
in Cat. How do ya like that.
A tall, thin and lean man leaned his head into my
open door and said in very deep tone, “I'm Learch,
the conductor. I've been instructed to keep you in
your chamber until you finish the slave/master
protocol and etiquette class. And then we'll finish the
subliminal hypnotizing procedure initiated by
Nigbone. After that, you'll be able to join the others at
the bar and move freely in between your chamber,
the bar, and the dining car, at least until we pick up
your date. She will set the rules from there on.”
I'm glad it's a she. A big-haired, blonde she.
Then he looked at me with a strange look and said,
“Open your eyes really, really wide.”

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So, I did, and that freak spayed something in them
and then stood up straight. He had to be nine feet
tall. He smirked a little as he touched his comband
and blew up a picture of the blonde that I'd seen in
Captain Kirk's office.
He asked, “Does she look familiar?”
“Oh, yeah,” I answered excitedly.
He said, “good” then flicked on a VeeM on the other
side of the tiny bed that took up most of the cabin.
Then he lifted his arm and spoke into his comband,
“He's ready.”
Then he said to me, “Enjoy the show and good luck
on the test.”
I looked around the room as he was closing the door.
There was some shelving with a couple of towels on
it, underneath the holo-projector, and some PJ's for
sleeping in. A small closet on the right of the shelves
had a couple of nice outfits hanging in it. There was a
bathroom to the right of the shelving unit, next to the
entrance door. It had a sign that served as a
reminder to conserve water.
The Veem had a motherly woman named Martha
giving instructions on how to act around the guests.
She included pleasantries to say, and how to sit up
straight, and where to place a fork and napkin.
She also informed me that I was not allowed to drink
any alcoholic beverages of any kind during the entire
trip. I had to drink love potion number nine every few
hours along the way. During the entire video the
blonde would walk by now and then,
flashing sexy smiles and making me want to learn all
this crap just to be with her.
In one frame, she was petting her naked catdog on its
bald head and the bulldog face on the end of its tail
looked straight at me and growled. The red hair that
flared all the way around the dog’s head, folded up
around his face and the cat moved its tail to the other
side of its body, out of sight.

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Martha ignored the whole scene and just kept
programming me to act and walk a certain way.
I failed the test couple of times and then Learch
opened the door and reminded me that I could be
studying this information in the Virtual Torture
Chamber, back in the prison.
I manned up, learned the material, and passed the
test.
I'll be a regular prince charming if I ever get out of here
alive.
Then I watched videos of the blonde touching herself
and running through fields of flowers in the light
sprinkle of a sun shower, and then dancing in the
moonlight naked on a beach, along with several other
images designed to heighten my true desire for her
passions.
So, after the initiation and the brainwashing, I
decided I should clean up and go to the bar. It was
kind of scary to stand up because the train was
flying. I could see the desert sand and cacti flying by
at breakneck speed out the window.
But at the same time, it seemed quite stable and still
inside. I got up and went into the bathroom and
brushed my gnarly choppers that had developed
morning breath. Even though I had hardly slept at
all. I washed my face and ran my fingers through my
hair. The white was almost all the way gone.
I found my way through the rail car and bellied up to
the bar. I looked up at the bartender all dressed in
black and asked him for a Ron White. He smiled and
said, “How about a fizzy water?”
I nodded yeah, and he poured me one up. While
looking around the joint, I asked, “Where’s this bullet
taking us?” While looking around the joint.
He answered, “San Antone.” He pointed out the
window and said, “See that?” as a large building
surrounded by a chain link fence with razor wire on
top of it flew by.

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“Yeah,” I replied.
He said, “That's Folsom Prison, it's a little more than
the halfway point. We'll be at the station in about
forty-five minutes.”
Some of the prisoners were already entertaining their
guests. I guessed some of them were on the train
waiting for their respective sex slaves.
It was early afternoon and the overall atmosphere in
the place was light. They were playing old country
songs on the juke. There was a very small empty
stage on the other side of the bar. It had a set of
drums in the corner and stripper poles to the left and
right.
I sat down in the corner next to the wall and glanced
over at this fella sitting on the far end by the tables.
He looked up at me and I noticed that the stranger
was ghost white pale, half drunk and hollow eyed. I
heard him say to a guy sitting next to him with a
guitar on his back, “Mister, can you make folks cry
when you play and sing, can you moan the blues,
and play 'em, too, and can you bend them guitar
strings.” Then he looked over at me and I gave him
the nod and looked away.
I started watching the news on one of several VeeMs
around the room and reading the captioning.
They were talking about the upcoming elections and I
was shocked to see the blonde, the one I was meeting
in San Antonio, I guess.
I asked the bartender about her and he said, “Yeah,
that's one ugly bitch. I can't believe she's the lead
candidate in the big 2112 presidential race.”
Shocked I replied, “What?” I was surprised that he
said she was ugly, and even more surprised that she
was running for president. I really love her big blonde
beautiful hair. It was awesome.
He grinned and said, “I read somewhere that she
wants to build a sphinx right in front of the
Washington monument.”

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I laughed and asked, “What the hell is a sphinx?”
He answered, “Ah, you know, a big statue of a human
face on a cat's body.”
“Only in America,” I murmured. Then took a sip of
my fizzy water.
He said, “I hear some poor sap on this train is going
to have to doink her.”
I said, “I think I'm that poor sap.”
He said, “I thought so. You know, all I really get
around here is rumors. We never really know. I have
seen some pretty high-profile clients move in and out
of here though. Nothing surprises me anymore.”
I looked back up at the VeeM and they showed her
sitting there, surrounded by people in suits and
petting that stupid catdog.
I couldn't believe it. Why on earth would an insane
woman who was running for president want to
purchase a date with me? It just doesn't make sense.
The bartender stuck his hand out and said, “My
name's Cash, and I just want you to know that I'm
honored to meet the man selected to pleasure the
next president of the United States.”
I shook his hand and said, “My name's Duboc,
pleased to meet you.”
He smiled and whispered, “If you promise not to tell
anyone, I'll slip you a little Jack Daniels, in your
Coke before you get off the train to meet her.”
I said, “I don't really like Coke. Do you have Seven
Up?”
And with a big Ole grin, he answered, “Yeah, we got
Sprite, that'll work, right?”
“Ugh, I guess,” My reply.
Then I told him, “You know, as beautiful and
desirable as she is, I still don't want to have sex with
her. I don't even care if she's going to be the next
president. I absolutely do not want to be here. I don't
want to be a sex slave.”

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He looked at me, sighed and said, “Yeah, well, I don't
want to be a bartender on a sex slave train, but it is
what it is man.”
So, I asked him, “How'd you wind up back there?
Why don't you just get a real job somewhere else?”
He replied, “Well, I really don't like to talk about it,
but I'm working off my sentence. I killed a man in
Macon and stole a Caddy from the factory when I
used to work there. Stole it one piece at a time. They
finally caught up to me and here I am. Just trying to
work off a few years of my sentence.”
Now, one of the girls that was back at the station
with me sat down just one bar stool away from me
and the bartender turned his attention to her.
Then a girl that I recognized walked up, looking a
little distraught. I'm certain that I'd seen her
somewhere before. She said to the other girl, “Hey,
Ilene, how are you?” Then she asked the bartender
for a glass of water.
I'm pretty sure she's a cook back in the prison.
The girl sitting one stool down from me answered,
“Fine, how ya doing girl,” as her friend sat down next
to her.
The cook asked, “Who's the greenhorn behind you?”
leaning her head around to get a glimpse of me.
Ilene answered just loud enough for me to hear, “I
don't know, probably just another jerk.”
Her friend said, “Ugh, Ilene,” and then gestured her
hand up and then down. Then she put her head
down and pushed her frizzy hair back to her face line,
lifted her eyes and said, “I sure hope this ride is
better than the last one.”
Ilene asked, “Why what was so bad last trip?” While
pulling her bright red hair up into an octotwist. Wish
I would have invented that, I thought. So simple.
Then Ilene's friend answered, “I don't know. Some
guy with huge hands kept trying to shove all his

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fingers into my vagina. I was worried he might try
fisting me or something.”
Ilene got all excited and said, “Ooh, I like that.”
The bartender shook his head and said, “You're one
sick bitch, Ilene.” He handed them some drinks and
walked away, disgusted.
Then her friend said, “And you won't believe what
happened next.”
Yeah, I had to hear it. So, I tuned in and
eavesdropped in on their conversation a little longer.
Cookie shook her head said, “I can never tell if you're
joking of not.”
Ilene replied, “Oh come on, that's gross. We should
have a sex slave union or something.”
I was looking around and trying to tune them out
somehow. After all, they weren't exactly welcoming
me aboard, but just then I saw the Cook’s eyes open
wide, just over Ilene's shoulder, and hushed her.
Then she shook her head ever so slightly in a no, no,
no position, while waving her finger back and forth.
I don't know why. I liked the idea of a sex slave
union, but...
Then she smiled politely and started talking about
her last train ride again.
The cook’s face scrunched up and she put her arms
in her lap and explained, “The guy was such a pig.
When I walked into the room, there was this freak'n
dog man curled up, laying on a doggy mat with his
tail tucked up between his legs and across his ribs.”
Her hands were spread out to show the size of him.
“I didn't think that much about it,” she continued as
the bartender walked over.
“You know, I was just trying to get my sick on.” Then
she paused and said, “And wishing that I hadn't
spent all my sentence reduction on a VR lab vacation
to Tahiti last week, but anyway, that guard bitch,
Rosy, came into the room, and let's just say that she

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put peanut butter in her chocolate, and that stupid
weredog started licking her peanut butter cup and...”
Then her face turned red and she started giggling and
laughing.
Personally, I wasn't sure exactly what all of that
meant but, then the bartender said, “Oh, no, ma'am, that's
just gross.” With a disgusted look on his face, he
walked away. far away.
Cook blurted out between her laughter, “Rosy started
squealing like a pig. She was bent over with her arms
around the guy’s waist and squealing like pig!”
Cookie got more and more animated as the story
became more and more intense in her mind, with
every word.
“You know Thunder Thighs, right? Well, she started
giggling, watching them, with Lana on top of her feet,
getting pumped in the “U” chair. That poor little thing
almost lost it as Thunder's uncontrollable laughing
caused Lana to fall off.”
Ilene said, “What! No way.”
“Oh, yeah,” Cookie said. “The John had an orgasm
just before she fell off. He seemed to be having a good
time though. Took his fingers out of me and started
holding Rosy's head close to him with a stupid grin
on his face.” She was shaking her head no, wads of
her thick hair in each hand she just kept squealing.”
Then she put her hands in her lap, raised and
lowered her legs one time and continued, “It was
insane. Kooky, uniquely entertaining, but sick, and
insane.”
Now, I thought I’d heard a similar version of this
story before.
And I don't know which version the worst was.
I really wished I hadn't heard that.
“That is so gross,” Ilene said.
Took the words right out of my mouth. I really, really
wish I hadn't heard that.

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It was all I could stand. I got up and went back to my
little room and laid down. Fuck, I thought. I hope
nobody tries to shove a fist up my ass. . . or anything
else. Ew, no, fuck, no.
I'm glad Butter's not on the train. I don't think I
could handle that right now. This is not good; this
whole situation is not good at all.
I wonder if there are any rules. I should at least have
some say in what I'm willing to do.
Slave and I doubt it.
Holy crap, what have I gotten myself into?
I looked out the window. The scenery had gone from
desert and cacti to rolling hills and scrub trees. I laid
back down, all frazzled and disoriented. My stomach
was in knots. I was too scared to sleep and too awake
to face reality. I was trembling like I'd drank too
much Caf-Buz. I got up and dry heaved a couple of
times. I spit out some bile and then rinsed my mouth
and laid back down. I was on the edge of a nervous
breakdown.
The tops of some buildings swiftly scrolled by the
window as we barreled through some small town.
I started humming. Not like a tune or anything, but
like the walrus man did back in the holding cell.
I kept humming and trying to occupy my mind with
other thoughts until I finally fell asleep.