Thomas’ Day Out

{{NSFW}}
''(This is an infamous old fanfiction that was deleted years ago. I have found a copy on Tumblr and am reposting it here for its preservation.)''
Thomas can't wait to take the children for a ride! What adventures await him today? Rated M for language, mass kidnapping, violent homosexual train rape and the murder of innocent children. Must be read in Ringo Starr’s voice.

Chapter One


Thomas was excited. Today was the Sodor parade, and he would be carrying the nation’s children from one side of the island to the other. He was really looking forward to having the children ride him.
“I’m really looking forward to having the children ride me!” said Thomas to no one in particular.
Thomas chugged along the track towards the station where all the children were waiting. To his surprise, Gordon was already waiting there.
“Gordon! What are you doing here?” said Thomas. And Gordon said “I am here to pick up the children for the parade!”
Thomas was upset. He thought he would be the only one carrying the town’s children. Why did Gordon have to steal his spotlight? He was such a jerk! But then Thomas had an idea. Slowly, he backed up into Gordon’s track. There was a clank as he unlatched his back train car, directly in front of Gordon. Now Gordon couldn’t go anywhere with the children!
“Thomas, you idiot! Come back here and pick up your car!” hissed Gordon.
Thomas didn’t have much time. “GET INSIDE CHILDREN. I HAVE CANDY.” he shouted as he opened the doors to his other train cars. Within a few seconds, thousands of children had scuttled inside him. Thomas gave a toot! and rode off with a grin.
Gordon was seething. He let off a hiss of steam, his eyes spinning around and around. He’d had it with Thomas’s antics. Gordon was big. Gordon was blue. And Gordon was going to make Thomas his bitch.

Chapter Two


Thomas sped across the island, leaving puffs of smoke in his wake. Though his glazed eyes and frozen smile gave no indication of any mood change, Thomas was worried. He had been very bad. After trapping Gordon, he had stopped at the four other stations that had been designated as parade pick-up locations, where he had commandeered a plentiful supply of train cars and children. He was now carrying one million children crammed into several hundred cars. The island of Sodor had declared a national emergency and a bounty had been placed on him. This made Thomas sad, because this meant he couldn’t participate in the parade anymore.
“I am sad because I can’t participate in the parade anymore” said Thomas.
He decided to take the children on a field trip instead. After showing them around the island, Thomas would return all the children back to their respective towns and his excursion would be celebrated for years to come.
The people of Sodor were understandably less enthusiastic about this turn of events. Thousands gathered in protest, demanding the return of their children. Sir Topham Hatt tried his best to reassure the crowd, but his words were only met with more anger.
“Just how are you going to retrieve our children from a runaway train?” demanded one particularly angry man.
“Harold is currently conducting an aerial search for the children” explained Sir Topham Hatt.
This statement was not met will with the crowd. “That helicopter won’t find SHIT! This island is too big! We need more!” cried out a man.
Several miles away, a large blue train with the number 4 on it sped down the tracks. That train car had set him back quite a bit, but there was no stopping him now. It wasn’t very hard to locate the smaller blue train. The hysterical cries of one million children were a bit of a give-away. It wasn’t soon before he located them. The small train was immensely slowed by the hundreds of child-filled cars he was towing. Gordon smirked – changing his usual big-blue-and-creepy demeanor to a big-blue-and-rapist one. He increased his engine to maximum speed, closing the distance between him and the smaller train.
“POOP POOP!” went Gordon’s whistle – a warning.
Thomas panicked. He recognized Gordon’s whistle, and he knew he was in big, big trouble.
“Peep! Peep!” He answered pleadingly.
“POOP! POOOOP!” was the reply. Gordon was right on Thomas’ back, and Gordon had no mercy.
Sir Topham Hatt sighed. The man was right. It would take days for Harold to scout the island.
“I’m sorry but this all we have… All we can do now is hope.”
“Hope for what?” cried a member of the growing crowd.
Topham Hatt took a deep breath.
“A hero.”
Gordon hit the back car with such force that he plowed directly through it and its occupants. The next 489 cars suffered a similar fate – crumpling like an accordion before being smashed to pieces. Thousands of children shrieked as they caught a short glimpse of their bringer of death – a train with a rape face.

Chapter Three


Gordon was relentless. He continued to plow through crate after crate until the blows of wood paneling and children’s bodies slowed his forceful rampage. But he wasn’t finished. He had to stop Thomas. Gordon increased his engine to full power, and, with a heave, he lifted his front wheels off the track and onto the back of Thomas’ rearmost car. Gordon set his back wheels into reverse, pulling at the small train and his remaining cars.
Thomas came to a complete stop.
“I’m sorry, Gordon! I give in! You win! Please, let me go! I’ll go back to town and turn myself in!” pleaded Thomas.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Thomas” said Gordon.
“Why’s that?” Thomas replied nervously.
“Because I’m going to make you my bitch.”
Gordon started humping Thomas’ rearmost car. The children inside wet themselves at the sight of the violently gyrating machinery directly outside of their window.
“G-Gordon! What are you doing?! Stop!” Thomas cried.
“No.” said Gordon. With a heave, he shoved the train car aside and proceeded to the next one, continuing his fevered thrusting.
Thomas struggled to escape Gordon’s grip, but it was no use. Gordon was too strong. He attempted to unlatch himself from the cars, but realized he could not, as one of the many frightened children inside him was leaned against the switch. He could not escape.
Gordon shoved aside another car and proceeded to the next. But this time was different. Thomas gasped as he felt hard steel press against his rear car. Gordon had unlatched his most personal pipe!
“Gordon! Please! I promise to – aaahh!” Thomas gasped as Gordon frotted against him. No train had ever touched Thomas like this before. His wheels felt weak.
Gordon repeated this to each successive train car. The sight of an oil-oozing mechanical train penis left the children with irreparable psychological problems. Sally would develop a crippling phobia of all machinery. Billy would continue to wet the bed for decades. Philip would develop an unhealthy fixation that would result in his inability to achieve orgasm unless his partner made train noises.
Gordon made his way closer and closer to Thomas, his carnal rage building with each successive car. At this rate it wouldn’t be long before he reached the trembling train himself.

Chapter Four


There was little time left. There were only two train cars left and Thomas knew his butt would be plundered if he didn’t do anything soon.
“My butt will be plundered if I don’t do anything soon!” cried Thomas.
“YES” confirmed Gordon.
But Thomas had an idea. With most of the train cars and children no longer weighing him down, he might be able to accelerate fast enough to escape. He just had to wait until Gordon let go of him…
Gordon thrust violently against the second to last car. He was so unable to contain his anger that he ripped the car in two. Now was Thomas’ chance! Before Gordon had time to grab his last car, Thomas accelerated as fast as possible.
“GET BACK HERE, BITCH!” roared Gordon.
“No!” yelled Thomas. “I may have stolen those children but you killed them! I’m telling!”
Gordon tried to catch up to Thomas but he had lost a lot of energy fucking the cars full of children. He started to laugh. Why was Gordon laughing?
“Why are you laughing, Gordon?” asked Thomas nervously.
“HA! HA! HA! YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY? YOU HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN MY TRUE FORM! HA! HA! HA!”
Gordon continued to laugh as his body began whirring and twisting. His rear cabin split to reveal two mechanical legs which Gordon lifted himself into the air with. His coal cart fused with his body, incorporating itself into a torso with Gordon’s iconic number 4 on it. Two wheeled arms unfolded from him and took position on the sides of his new torso. Finally, Gordon’s familiar face rotated forward to look at the fleeing train in the distance. Gordon smirked.
Poor little Thomas had no idea what had just occurred behind him. When Gordon had stopped Thomas had taken the opportunity to increase the distance between them. There was now over a mile of turns and hills between them, and Thomas was starting to feel a false sense of relief.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
What on earth was that? It was coming from off to Thomas’ right!
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Thomas tried to crane his head to look, but then remembered that he was a train and couldn’t do such a thing.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Thomas found, to his horror, that he did not have to crane his head to see the source of the noise. From the crest of a nearby hill rose a huge metallic figure. A figure with huge swinging arms that caught the sunlight. A figure with a huge throbbing manhood that swung with each giant step. A figure that caught up to Thomas and lifted him hundreds of feet in the air with ease. A figure whose face spelt only one thing: rape time.
Thomas pooped his pants.

Chapter Five


''Authors note: Thomas did not actually poop his pants at the end of the last chapter. That would be ridiculous, as trains do not wear pants and they cannot poop. There is no need to worry about poop in this story - that would just be messed up.''
The children were crushed and thrown from the train as a giant hydraulic train penis thrust through the main cabin.
Thomas cried out in pain.
“Nooooo. My backdoor!”
Gordon began moving Thomas back and forth on his giant dick.
“CHOO CHOO MOTHERFUCKER!” said Gordon as he pounded Thomas.
Back at the town hall, Sir Topham Hatt shouted over the crowd.
“I HAVE GOOD NEWS. HAROLD HAS LOCATED THE RUNAWAY TRAIN.”
Sir Topham Hatt pulled out a remote and turned on a nearby television.
A grassy field appeared on the screen. The camera slowly panned to the right. Thousands of train cars lay toppled on their sides, covered in the blood of children. Splinters of wood and small appendages were scattered around the wreckage. The unlucky few children that survived were huddled nearby, all staring at a point further up the railroad. The camera panned to reveal an even more horrendous sight: two trains fucking.
“Gah! Gordon! My consoles…” Thomas groaned. His face was red and his smoke stack was working overtime.
“CHUGGA CHUGGA CHUGGA CHUGGA” said Gordon as he thrust faster and faster.
Gordon did not last long. All of that foreplay had gotten him excited.
“HHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGG!” grunted Gordon.
Thomas felt the warmth of the gallons of train semen released inside of him. Thomas was going to jizz.
“Gordon! I am going to jizz!”
Thomas jizzed. Out of his smoke stack. Thickly coating the two fornicating trains and the children below.
Gordon dropped Thomas onto the ground. His job here was done. With a click of his heels, the large machine rocketed off into the air towards the setting sun.