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"You're in my seat," said the girl with black braids. Without looking up from her book, Agnes froze halfway down the empty train seat.
The compartment smelled of old leather and something metallic: blood or rust, perhaps.
"That's not possible," said Agnes, shifting her backpack "There are no assigned seats here."
The girl finally looked up, her eyes dark and unblinking "Now I am."
Behind her, a blonde with chipped nail polish and neon pink streaks in her hair giggled, popping a bubble with her chewing gum.
Agnes hesitated.
The train lurched on the tracks, knocking her off balance, she could have argued, she should have argued.
But something in the way the black-haired girl\ld the book, as if she weren't really reading it, as if she were waiting, made her swallow the words.
"Good," Agnes muttered, dragging her bag to another seat.
The blonde leaned forward, smiling. "Oh, don't pout. Wednesday's just protecting her space."
Wednesday. Agnes filed the name away.
She didn't like the way Wednesday's fingers drummed on the spine of the book: slow, deliberate.
Like a countdown.
The train lurched again. Agnes stumbled, clutching the luggage rack. A suitcase rolled, spilling neon stickers onto the floor.
"Shit," she hissed, trying to pick them up, Wednesday looked "Interesting," she muttered.
Agnes didn't ask what she meant, she didn't want to know.
The blonde, Enid, apparently, picked up one of the stickers "Cute," she said, sticking it to her jacket, Agnes's stomach tightened.
They were hers. Collected for years.
Wednesday's lips curved.
Not quite a smile.
Agnes suddenly wished she'd stayed standing.
Wednesday closed the book with a soft *click*, the sound of a trap being set, Enid's fingers drumming against her knee, her polished nails flashing like warning lights.
The air grew thick, moist with something Agnes couldn't name but could feel, iron and trepidation.
"You know," Wednesday said, tilting her head, "Nevermore has traditions."
Enid's smile widened. "Oh yeah *Super* old school" she stretched, the hem of her shirt riding up just enough to reveal the waistband of something decidedly not for girls.
The train rattled violently, plunging them into darkness for three seconds. When the lights flickered again, Wednesday was closer.
Much closer, her knee pressed against the seat beside Agnes's thigh, pinning her down.
"Tradition," Wednesday repeated, her voice low and sweet, "dictates that new blood... be known."
Agnes's pulse pounded in her throat, she'd heard rumors of Nevermore's hazing rituals: vague, exaggerated things whispered in the locker room.
But the way Wednesday's fingers brushed the seam of her skirt wasn't an exaggeration.
Enid giggled again, twisting a lock of pink-flecked hair around one finger "Don't worry," she purred, "we'll be *thorough*."
Agnes opened her mouth, to scream, to protest, but Wednesday's palm cut her off before the sound could escape.
The other hand jerked Agnes's belt down with a sharp movement. The fabric tore.
Enid whistled. "Damn. No panties? *I can't wait*."
The cold air hit her bare skin.
Agnes struggled, but Wednesday's grip was unshakable, her warm breath hitting Agnes's ear "Hold still. It'll hurt less."
"Oh, *look*," Enid chanted, her thick cock springing free, red and heavy, already dripping, the shaft thick with dark blonde curls, the tip glistening under the flickering fluorescent lights.
Agnes gagged reflexively: it was bigger than she'd imagined, her veins visibly pulsing.
Wednesday's skirt pooled at her feet with a rustle of fabric. Agnes didn't dare turn, but the slick sound behind her, skin against skin, made her gasp. Something long and smooth pressed against her thigh.
Cold.
Precise.
"Wider," Wednesday murmured, but when Agnes didn't obey quickly enough, bony fingers grabbed her hips and pulled her backward onto Wednesday's cock.
Agnes gasped, no stretching, no resistance, just a brutal, fluid slide inside.
It was... methodical. Like a dissection.
Enid laughed, low and guttural. "You're drooling," she taunted, caressing her lower lip, then clamped her jaw, forcing it open.
The first few inches of her cock were salty and bitter, their weight flattening Agnes's tongue.
Enid sighed, moving her hips in shallow thrusts, her member catching in her teeth.
Wednesday fucked her with perfect, measured thrusts: deep enough to take her breath away, shallow enough to draw awareness to every inch, Agnes moaned, her body shuddering between them, frozen like a specimen.
"Look up," Enid commanded, slapping her cheek lightly.
Agnes blinked at her: Enid's breasts swayed with each thrust, heavy and pink-tipped, sweat glistening between them, the contrast obscene: soft curves framing an aggressive hunger.
Wednesday's breathing caught, just once, before her rhythm stopped.
The first spurt was hot, thick, and flooded her pussy in a way that made Agnes's body instinctively shudder.
She continued to come, slick and incessant, overflowing around the base of Wednesday's penis, where their bodies met.
Enid laughed, but breathlessly.
"Already?" she teased, tightening her grip on Agnes's hair.
"You couldn't help yourself, could you?"
His hips snapped forward, her penis diving deeper, the tip hitting Agnes's throat with wet, uneven thrusts.
Wednesday slowly withdrew, her cum dripping down Agnes's thighs in sticky rivulets.
Wednesday reached for her purse, rummaging slowly; the glass vial she pulled out was tiny, filled with something iridescent pink that swirled like poisoned candy.
She uncorked it with her teeth, Agnes smelled a hint of artificial strawberries and something more pungent, chemical, and downed it in one gulp.
Enid was still laughing, her cock penetrating her mouth with shallow, messy strokes. But then Wednesday's hands were back on Agnes, spreading her ass cheeks with clinical precision, the cold pressure of the lube making Agnes shudder, then came the brusque, *wrong*, insistent pressure.
Wednesday didn't stop.
He pushed in, the stretching brutal, her cock ripping Agnes's ass in one relentless slide.
Agnes squealed around Enid's cock, her body trembling as Wednesday bottomed out, her hips flush against Agnes's ass.
"Better," Wednesday muttered, her voice darkening now.
She withdrew almost completely, then pulled back, the force driving Agnes forward onto Enid's cock.
Enid moaned, her fingers tightening in Agnes's hair, "Fuck, it's tightening"
Wednesday's pace was now merciless, each thrust knocking the air from her lungs, the pink potion working quickly: Agnes could feel it, the way Wednesday's cock swelled hotter, thicker inside her, the way her breathing became labored.
Enid wasn't laughing anymore, her thrusts became frantic, her balls slapping Agnes's chin.
Agnes couldn't think. She couldn't breathe.
She just *took* him, her body splitting between them.
Agnes immediately felt the change: the cock inside her twitched.
Enid's hips shook, her cock throbbed violently, then exploded, hot drops of cum flooding Agnes's mouth faster than she could swallow.
It was thick, *too thick*, cloying and bittersweet, overflowing her lips in dripping streams, Enid moaned, squeezing harder, her pubic hair sticking to Agnes's nose as the torrent continued to flow, spilling down her chin, dripping onto the floor in thick, splashing drops.
A puddle formed beneath them, white and slippery, reflecting the flickering ceiling lights.
Wednesday watched, her cock still lodged in Agnes's ass, twitching with interest.
She exhaled through her nose, bored "Again?" she muttered, pulling out with a wet pop, her cum dripping freely from Agnes's gaping hole, mixing with Enid's mess on the floor.
Wednesday grabbed another vial, this one a deeper magenta, and downed it in one gulp, her pupils instantly dilating, the black engulfing her iris. "Change," she ordered, patting Enid's shoulder "She's loose enough now."
Enid smiled, withdrawing her cock with a slimy *schlop* "Yes? Double her pussy?" She ran two fingers through the mess on Agnes's face and licked them clean, "I bet we can fit her in."
Wednesday didn't answer.
She grabbed Agnes by the hips, flipping her onto her back in a brutal motion. Agnes's legs spread wide, trembling: her pussy glistened, swollen and spent, Wednesday's cum still leaking out.
Wednesday positioned herself first, the head of her cock pressing against Agnes's entrance with targeted pressure.
Enid straddled Agnes's chest, her penis protruding, still half-hard and dripping, and she gripped the base, guiding it down to meet Wednesday's.
Agnes gasped as two large heads collided with her opening, too much, *too*, but Wednesday didn't hesitate.
She pushed in, forcing Agnes's body to stretch obscenely around the first inch.
Enid followed, her penis wedging next to Wednesday's in a slick, unbearable rubbing.
Agnes's vision darkened.
They didn't stop.
Enid's mouth crashed into Agnes's with shocking force, her tongue piercing her trembling lips in a wet, dominating thrust.
She tasted of bubblegum and salt, her teeth gripping Agnes's bottom lip with such force that it drew blood, the metallic taste mingling with the lingering musky scent of cum still smeared on Agnes's chin as Enid moaned into the kiss, low, hungry, her hips moving in sync with Wednesday's relentless rhythm beneath her.
Agnes sobbed, her fingers moving futilely against the seat cushions as Wednesday's cock pistoned into her next to Enid's, the tension unbearable, the friction melting.
She could feel every vein, every ridge, Wednesday's unnatural hardness pressing against Enid's pulsing heat in her pussy, opening her in ways that shouldn't have been possible.
Enid broke the kiss only to bite Agnes's collarbone, breathing heavily as Wednesday's thrusts drove her cock deeper by proxy.
Then... release.
Enid came first with a strangled gasp, her body hunched forward as her cock throbbed violently inside Agnes, flooding her already overflowing pussy in thick, sticky waves.
Wednesday followed seconds later, her rhythm becoming erratic, uneven, her cock shuddered, swelling incredibly before bursting, another torrent of cum pouring into Agnes with almost painful pressure.
He didn't stop.
Agnes could only gape silently as the heat spread, her belly arching slightly under the assault, the enormous amount of cum dripping around their still-thrusting bodies in obscene, glistening streams.
Enid laughed against her throat, licking a drop of sweat. "Look at her," she panted, squeezing harder, the tip of her penis brushing Agnes's cervix in slow, dirty circles. "Fuck, she's fuller than the Thanksgiving turkey I had a few days ago."
Wednesday's fingers dug into Agnes's hips with such force that they left bruises.
Agnes didn't speak; she didn't need to; the way her penis continued to twitch, still half-hard inside Agnes despite having just emptied himself, said it all.
Enid stretched, cracking her neck with a satisfied sigh.
"Not bad for a beginner," she mused, smiling smugly at Agnes's wasted body.
She reached into her pocket, pulled out a crumpled pack of gum, and offered a piece to Wednesday, who accepted it with a nod.
Agnes couldn't help but stare at her, her legs still spread, the cum pooling beneath her in a sticky mass.
Wednesday adjusted her skirt, smoothing the fabric as if nothing had happened. She turned to Agnes, her dark eyes unreadable. "You passed the test," she said simply.
Agnes blinked, her throat raw from screaming and choking on Enid's cock. "Pass?" she croaked.
Enid giggled, popping the gum. "Yes, idiot. The test. Not everyone gets *this* kind of welcome."
She winked, causing a drop of cum to fall from Agnes's knee "Consider it your official initiation into Nevermore University" Wednesday's lips curved in something almost akin to approval.
"You took it well." She paused, then added, "Most don't" Agnes shivered, her body still tingling from the abuse. She couldn't decide whether to feel relieved or horrified, the cum dripping from her pussy still dripping.
Enid tossed her a towel from her bag, the cloth landing on Agnes's legs with a wet slap "Clean yourself up," she said, her tone now lighter, almost friendly "You have class tomorrow."
Wednes turned to leave, her heels clicking on the floor. "Welcome to Nevermore, Agnes" the door closed behind them, leaving Agnes alone with the mess and lingering smell of their domain.
She stared at the crumpled towel, then at her own shaking hands, somewhere, beneath the exhaustion and pain, a spark of treacherous pride flashed.
She had done it.
Somehow.