Trash Punk World

By Abra Cadabra

Published on Aug 18, 2017

Gay

*** 15 Blissed Out ***

The town of Bliss was unlike anything Fucker had ever imagined.

Buildings were up to seven levels high, like in Rocket City and the arcology surface structures – but the similarities ended there. Everything was pained in psychedelic colors, running in patterns across walls as if an entirely different city was drawn onto the existing one.

The patterns even ran along the in- and outside of the city walls.

People's shorts were gaudy and shrill, with loads of gold chains and rings on every neck and hand in sight.

The streets were loud with the thumping bass of music from various clubs.

Everywhere was the Bliss symbol – an almost intimidatingly happy smiley.

The ass raiders and their three captive slave kids had arrived just in time to see the lights turn on. Neon tubes of every possible color ran along seams, corners and edges.

"Yo," Hardass said. "I'll go ask where the club is. You stay here."

It felt weird to Fucker not to take the initiative. He was still the nominal leader of the ass raiders, but to the outside world he was just a slave – and a prisoner slave, at that.

Pyro was still groggy but felt well enough to hop off the buggy unassisted. The six slaves (three half-fakes, three very real ones) waited for Hardass' return.

The club was one of many along the main road. It had glass fronts, showing off the entrance area. Not much to see besides more neon lights and the big, flickering `Blazing Fuck' sign.

"Let's go inside," Hardass said. "With some luck, my contact can tell us how to get rid of the ID numbers."

The dancefloor was full of smoke that ran along the ground. The heavy dance music was enjoyed by a few dozen fully nude guys, all shaking their asses and rubbing against each other. Most were definitely high.

Fucker understood the meaning behind the name. There were neon tubes with rounded tips along the side, just the right height to sit on. By riding a neon dildo you got... a blazing fuck. Made perfect sense.

With Hardass leading Ghost, Ruh and Ahg deeper into the club, the original trio was free to use the equipment. They picked three glowing dildos next to each other and started riding.

To Fucker's pleasure, the sticks vibrated lightly. He was getting close to cumming quickly. His legs were already shining with pre-cum collected over the course of the day.

"Hey hey hey!" someone yelled from the side. "Those are not for slaves."

Fucker obediently hopped off.

The thick, older man with a fuchsia mohawk held a scanner up to Fucker's collar.

"Let's see who you belong to..." He grinned wide. "Never heard of him. Perfect. Your smuggler lost you in the crowd, huh?"

"No, we're owned by..."

"Then I can collect the delivery bonus."

The man stroked each collar with the scanner. "Done. I added myself as a gene-bond."

What!? Fucker wanted to kill than man instantly. Wasn't he aware they were freaks? Maybe in the neon light it was hard to spot. Fucker couldn't see than mans' eyes clearly either.

"Now follow me closely and don't make trouble. I chose the radius very, very tight."

As soon as he walked off, Fucker and the other two received blinding pain running up and down their spines.

None of them could stop themselves from screaming at the torture.

The horror was over within half a second, but before Fucker got a word in, he was choked. It wasn't like cutting off his airflow, it was more like crushing his windpipe.

He had no choice. The three followed the man to the back of the club, where they waited with him in a tiny room in front of an important looking, bright red door.

When this door opened, their kidnapper ushered them inside. There were two guys with scanners and nine slaves – including Ghost, Ruh and Ahg. Were the ass raiders going to be auctioned off again?

Fucker wouldn't let that happen.

"Pyro? Do your thing. I'll negotiate."

With a simple flick, the fire freak smashed pure heat into one of the guards, who instantly went up in flames. The fire was short lived but burned him to a crisp within a moment.

Fucker stretched his hand forward and (with his power) lifted the kidnapper off his feet. "Listen Mister, you made a big mistake. Just unbind us and we'll be on our way to our owner."

Fucker had guessed right. The modded scanner that could add new owners at will was also able to remove them. The panicked kidnapper unbound them – fully.

They still had collars closed around their necks but they were free to go wherever they wanted. Since the man didn't look like he'd protest, Fucker took the scanner with him as the ass raider trio left.

It felt great to be free, feared and powerful.

Should he free any of the other slaves? No, too much risk and responsibility.

Minutes later, Hardass found his friends riding the neon tubes – getting their `blazing fuck' to the rhythm of dance music. He came with great news.

"Yo boys. I know where to get your ID tatts removed."

Fucker wiggled the scanner. "I got something fun to tell you, too."


What had he expected a Bliss apartment to look like?

Really, it was a normal place except for the tattoo equipment and the ceiling high stack of Hydro-Cola cans. The guy who could do the removal negotiated with Hardass for a while and slaves were not allowed to listen in.

When the shadow walker came back into the living room where Savage and Pyro were fingering each other on a mattress, Fucker rose with his own fingers up his hole.

"Good news," Hardass said. "He'll do it. Bad news, we don't have the cash."

"Is there a way for us to earn it?"

"I asked that, too. He didn't have anything for us but he knows guys who are always looking for a gang willing to fight. We could do drug transports for them."

"If that's what we need to do to get bottle caps, I say we should. Man, we're doing something we could easily go to prison for so we can stop looking like prisoners. That's fucked up."


Their destination was Paleburg – the heart of power cell production this side of Rocket City. As far as Fucker was aware, the place supposedly consisted of nothing but pipes and vents.

They had to take multiple bags full of drugs from Bliss to Paleburg, which was a convenient place for dealers to distribute it further.

The journey was not one many wished to make. The path went around the Dump Trench – a large area with a pretty high population, but zero humans.


Fucker had expected worse. They didn't have weapons and were on foot, so if anything went wrong, it would go really wrong. But his fears were unfounded. The Dump Trench was well sealed.

As the ass raiders traveled along the circular wall, spanning more area than even the bulwark, Fucker caught glimpses of the inside. The concrete was not as massive and durable as the bulwark, since it was much older. It had crumbled in some places and allowed a view into the dry grassland, surrounded by a massive trench between it and the wall.

If the crater beyond Death Mountain had been sealed off due to the uncontrollable infection spread, the same was true for the Dump Trench and mutants.

Every now and then, Fucker could hear their roaring screams. Was the whole thing one big herd of those creatures?

"Yo, there's something," Hardass said. He pointed at a shelter, built against the wall. It looked newer than it had any right to be, made with several interconnected SuperSpark quick erect modules and a huge reflective sail above the entrance.

"Who could settle here?" Savage asked.

"Obviously," Pyro said, "someone who really doesn't want to be disturbed. We should stay out of trouble."

"Fuck that," Hardass said. "They've gotta know they're right on the path from Bliss to Paleburg. We'll ask if they have anything for us to do on the way. The more bottle caps we grab on this mission, the better."

They approached the construction, which had to be big enough to house a dozen men at least. This was not the hut of an eccentric hermit.

Fucker was about to comment, when he spotted the symbol on the steel door. "Oh fuck no! Please tell me it's a different one."

To everyone's surprise, the etching was the caricature off the Sunbreaker symbol, they had seen in the cultist mock-outpost.

"It makes sense, though," Pyro said. "The first time we ran into this sign was in a mutant cave. We never found out why they were collecting people. Clearly, the cultists had trained them to do their bidding. If they had the whole Dump Trench as their practice ground, I get how they could make mutants work for them."

"Well, luckily that went nowhere for them," Fucker said. "Since we're not currently being shot at, I guess the place is abandoned. I'll be glad if we never see these dicks again."

Whenever the cultists had left, they had taken all supplies with them. Seeing no point in sticking around, Pyro spent a minute melting the door, to rid the world of the last remnant of the power crazed cult, before they moved on.


Paleburg was still some way off, but the ass raiders could already see the smoke. White streams rose toward the clouds from almost a hundred vents that slowly lifted themselves over the horizon as the boys approached in the evening sun.

It wasn't all pipes, but the city had more tunnels than streets. Few were underground, though. A lot of the city was modules on scaffolding.

The guards weren't too concerned about their appearance and waved them inside as soon as they had checked for weapons. Of course, they had seen the drugs, but Paleburg's guards got most of their salary from contacts in Bliss. The punks could just stroll through the checkpoint.

Once inside, Hardass asked for the way to the Ash Wreck – a half rusted airplane that served as a seedy club. He took Savage with him as bodyguard and went to meet the Paleburg main dealer.

Fucker and Pyro were free to roam the place.

As slaves they weren't welcome in many locales, but the gang leader was sure he could find someone to use for a few anal orgasms.

The two walked leisurely through open and closed pipes in search of someone with spare time, when Fucker noticed something just as bad as the butchered Sunbreaker logo.

"Oh for fuck's sake. Not those, too."

The Paleburg flag was a white strip, showing two smoking chimneys in black. All those flags – throughout the city – were vandalized. Blood red skulls with thorny halos had been sprayed over the industry symbol.

"You think it's chaos soldiers?" Pyro asked.

"The ones that weren't caught had to go somewhere. Looks like they stayed together and took over a whole fucking town. I guess Assbasher trained them well."

"I just hope they don't have another freak leading them who can take over bodies."

"Unlikely but I don't want to test it. Let's wait outside the Ash Wreck. As soon as Hardass got the money, we should get out of here."


The ass raiders were reunited in the middle of a metal street under dire circumstances. Savage and Hardass were tied together at the necks and wrists. They walked ahead of a group holding phasers aimed at them.

"There they are!" shouted one of the armed men.

Fucker surrendered. There was no way to fight or flee that wouldn't get his two captured gang members right into the line of fire.

All four of them were led deeper into Paleburg. There was a busy construction site, bustling with slaves – and only slaves. The thirty nude men and boys erected a black tower that already reached above most buildings but didn't look finished yet.

An enormous, blood red thorn skull was painted above the entrance. This had to be the chaos soldier HQ.

The ass raiders walked up a lot of stairs until they got to a room, overlooking the entire city. An older man with a black robe was sitting on a pile of pillows that covered a stone throne.

He grinned as they were presented to him. Another older man with a slave collar was sucking his dick so the Paletown mayor (or king?) didn't get up. He wore a lot of bling, including earrings and chains.

"Welcome, ass raiders," he said. "I was hoping to run into you again someday. After you got rid of my dear leader's research, our group had to reorganize. And re-recruit."

He took a second to cum, then he brushed his robe over his dick and got up. "Now you see, this fellow here, who just took my load, was once the mayor of this little place. How did I take over so quickly, you might wonder?"

"Chaos soldiers," Fucker said.

"Exactly." The cultist/general stepped up to the window, looking away from the captives. "My team ran into them as they fled. We bonded over our common enemies. You little dicks, who now call themselves a gang."

The noise of metal work entered through the walls. Fucker had a plan. But he'd need a moment alone with at least one slave from the construction project.

"From here," the man continued, "I'll take over enough territory to conquer arcology 4, or if possible, just gain enough influence to recruit my former leader's colleagues."

"So what's you plan? Becoming a freak?"

"No, that's history. I want a different kind of power. If I get freak abilities at some point, that's a bonus, but the future belongs to those who control the mutants. I'll reopen the old research post and soon... I'll have an army without equal."

Clever. People who were given freak powers could revolt. Pet mutants didn't.

The man blabbered on with his back toward them. It was risky, but Fucker waved the former mayor to come closer.

The ass raider leader whispered. "Yo listen. In the bag of the uncollared boy is a hacked scanner, set to unbind. Use it on your collar. Just press the red button. Free everyone."

For a second, Fucker was afraid the man would give them away, so gleeful was his expression.

"M-Master Rah," he said, eventually. "Shall I prepare the ass raiders for their execution? Out front for everyone to see?"

The cultist/general named Rah barely turned around. "Brilliant idea. Get everyone together to watch. I'll need, let's say, half an hour to come up with a rousing speech."

"Very well, Master Rah. Half an hour will suffice. Yo punks, hand over your bags. Now move it. Up the stairs."

The moment the throne room door closed behind them, the former mayor waved at the guards. "You heard Master Rah. Keep these punks on the roof, while I get everyone together to watch the execution."

Fucker saw the man open Hardass' bag before vanishing down the stairs. The ass raiders were brought one level higher, to the unfinished floor above the throne room. On the steel and concrete ground, the four sat around with three guards waiting by the stairs.

An hour was enough time for Hardass to fuck each of his enslaved punks to anal orgasm.


Tune in next time for a revolution.

Next: Chapter 16


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