*** 3 The Freaky Cult ***
Fucker woke up to the sound of harsh slapping.
The cold ground under him was moving. No, it just seemed that way. He was dizzy. Once his head could tell up and down apart again, he opened his eyes.
The entire group was in a cage inside a bunker. They were totally naked. Three of them were just on the ground, but Savage's hands were chained to the ceiling.
The slapping came from him, since the brute fucked Pisspig so hard it was difficult for the slave not to fall forward.
Well, someone was already taking care of getting Savage to calm down, so Fucker could tend to the others.
"Pyro, Hardass? You awake?"
"Yeah boss," Pyro said.
"Almost," Hardass said and sat up very slowly. "What do you think happens now?"
A figure entered the room outside the cage bars. "I can tell you that. You all will experience the glory of serving a greater purpose in life."
"Yo," Fucker said. "You're the freak from before. What exactly do you think you're doing?"
"Hahaha. You think you can make demands? I have taken care of your muscle freak. He is bound safely. Even super strength cannot tear those chains."
So he hadn't figured out that there was more than one freak among them, because he relied in the pure black eyes. Good.
"You all," the man continued, "will be sacrificed in the name of the only thing that is worth sacrificing to. Power."
"Oh fucking great. A cultist."
"Not so, young trash punk. I am an inventor. I have developed a way to grant freak powers safely to anyone I find worthy. I am living proof it works."
Wait what? The cultist guy had become a freak by himself? If this was true he had a good chance of grabbing a lot of land for himself. An army of loyal freaks would practically be unstoppable.
Fucker frowned. "And you need sacrifices for that?"
"Unfortunately the process requires a poor sucker to lose his life. You were the first bunch to walk into my freshly laid trap. I can finally start rewarding my men with their own freak powers."
Savage finished and Pisspig fell forward, a line of cum spraying from the brute's dick and the slave's asshole.
"Ah," the cultist said. "I should start with the slave to be sure, since I don't know which one of you he's gene-bound to."
The man unlocked the cage door and took a step inside. Two more men stepped into the room out front and shut the door behind them.
"Now then." The cultist walked up to the middle of the cage.
Pyro saw Fucker's nod and threw a sling of fire. The inventor of the death machine got minor facial burns and staggered back with a muffled scream. He tripped over the slave and fell toward Savage.
When the man's face dropped into Savage's crotch, the muscle freak closed his massive legs around the man's neck. One ugly cracking sound later, the cultist leader slid to the ground motionless.
Pyro had instantly started conjuring a second flame and threw it at the lightbulb. As it exploded above the two guards, they were plunged into twilight. The bunker windows let in a tiny bit of light but there was enough shadow.
When the guards reached for their weapons, they found empty space. Hardass was already behind them.
While those two were taken care of, Fucker rummaged through the pockets of Mister Inventor's shorts. He found a key chain and one of the keys worked on Savage's restraints.
"Yo punks," Fucker said. "Nobody knows we're free. We can probably sneak out. But I'm thinking. What if the machine really works and ends up in the hands of someone even more unhinged."
"Smashy smashy?" Savage asked. "The cultists I mean. Mostly. But also the machine of course."
"All right. Let's try it. Let's see what the situation is right outside the door. I think I already have a plan."
Half of the Voidgrip settlement was on fire. Which was impressive since it was mostly made of bricks and metallic SuperSpark modules. When Pyro had a lot of time to charge up, his flames got hot.
Most men had fled without a fight, racing to their buggies and making it out the gate. Those that stayed behind (or were left behind by their friends) had to deal with both Savage's fists and Fucker's randomly acquired metal bar. He missed his phaser.
Meanwhile the slave and his owner were looking through the buildings not on fire.
It didn't take ten minutes until the place was totally deserted. Savage ran after a group of four men fleeing on foot.
"Leave them be, Savage. Come back. We need to grab our stuff before it goes poof."
The brute returned with an adorable pout.
"Yo," Pisspig called out. "In here."
It was unsurprisingly the big building with the symbol on it, which had all their stuff. Fucker could reunite with his beloved phaser. Since his loin rags were even more torn it made more sense just to stay naked. They all grabbed their bags and opened every box they could find in the community building.
There was a lot worth taking but they were loaded already. In an adjacent room as a lab. Fucker assumed he had found the freak power machine.
It was surprisingly small. A collection of metal dishes with outgrowths like spider legs. All connected by wires.
What if it worked?
Fucker had never had a reason to be jealous of Pyro and Savage, but now with a third freak in the group... What if it worked?
The weird cultist had left plenty of notes. Something in those had to tell him how to use the thing. He could always say he wanted to make sure other people believed them when they explained why there was a smoking ruin where Voidgrip should be.
Yeah, he needed proof after all.
The punks roamed through the rest of the fake hub for any tiny, light weight valuables. They came up empty, except for one thing. Someone had left behind a camo thong in fucker's size.
"Totally worth getting poisoned and kidnapped," he said.
Pyro chuckled. "Yeah, really brings out your ass."
"Fuck yeah, I should hope so. Since it doesn't cover any off it. Hehe."
"It'll take a while till you're rid of the tan lines though."
"True. Now let's get going. We slept through the day, so we should make good distance tonight."
The next village was grateful to hear the cultist were taken care off. No one had known what was up, exactly, but it had looked shady from day one.
The farmers didn't require any proof of the claims. Crackpots popped up every now and then. Nobody expected there to be a working machine. The punks had agreed not to mention that the inventor had apparently tested the apparatus on himself with success.
In the village, they also got rid of some loot, but not much. The farmers with their self-contained hydroponic gardens needed little and had few bottle caps to spare.
Once the traders had rested, they were approached by an elder.
"Yo, trash punks. Since you took out a whole hub's worth of men, I have something to ask of you. A boy went missing a few days ago. We would usually not ask merchants but with the raiders moving south and the mercenaries pursuing, there aren't many people we can turn to."
"What is it with all the kidnapping going on lately?" Fucker said. "Sure, we can have a look. Any details?"
"We're pretty sure he's in a village just west of here. We don't want to start a war or anything, but it would be nice to get him back without having to pay the ransom they'll inevitably ask of us."
Fucker shook his head. "I can't promise we'll be quiet about it. We'll do our best to get him back though."
The missing boy was called H. Just the letter. He had a naturally blond mohawk. Hair colors not changed by the retro virus were a rarity. He'd stand out. When the 14 year old boy had been last seen he had worn an ornate hip scarf.
There was time, though. Fucker picked three cute boys from the farms and they gladly joined him for a circle jerk. This quickly turned into oral, followed by anal. Those three lucky kids learned a lot that day. Fucker didn't let a lack of experience serve as an excuse.
Before the sun rose, the trash punks made it to the neighboring village. A knock at the gate and they were let in.
While Pyro tried to see if anyone had stuff to trade, Fucker walked straight to the community building. He was going to ask an elder for the missing kid.
Then Fucker saw a mop of blond hair.
"Um... Yo, H?"
The boy turned around. "Y-yeah?"
"Are you H, from the village in the east?"
"I... yeah. Why?"
Fucker took a closer look. No chains. No guards. "They thought you were kidnapped for ransom."
H blushed. "No... I ran away. And I'm not going back."
"Okay? Does it really matter if you live a few steps farther to the side, though?"
"Yes, because... I'm in love!"
Fucker facepalmed. Was this kid for real?
"So you ran away to be with your fuck buddy from one village over. And there was no chance to talk it out with your caretaker beforehand?"
"He... He wouldn't understand."
"Understand what?"
"He'd keep me from seeing Ip, because he hates everyone from here."
"Ip? That's your fuck buddies name?"
"He's not a fuck buddy. He's my boyfriend. My love."
This was not what Fucker had signed up for. Punching baddies? Sure. Rescuing prisoners? Any day. Looting places? Fuck yes.
But relationship trouble? Worse, parent trouble in the mix? Nope.
"Listen H, I'll-"
"Who are you?" said a new guy. The man of about 40 with a bald head stepped to H's side. "Why do you pester my little H?"
"Oh fuck off," Fucker said. "Tell me you aren't Ip?"
"Yes, that is me."
"...You know what? Never mind. Have a nice day."
Fucker left, dragged his fellow trash punks with him and returned to the eastern settlement. The elder and Ip could handle things among themselves.
It was a joy to see the elder's face when Fucker told the story. They didn't get a reward for their trouble but Fucker hadn't expected one. Would have been too easy.
The village had a medic, so they stayed for another day. After shocking and impressing everyone within earshot that there were three freaks among them, the punks jerked off.
Freak cum (if treated correctly with medical equipment) was a potent substance. Basically a universal medicine. The villagers scrapped together their last caps to pay for the luxury. It took a lot of cum to make any decent amount of the freak-meds so the three were busy getting blown and anally fingered for hours.
It was an exhausting process for them, but they didn't exactly feel like complaining.
Fucker took part in the process, even though his cum wasn't going to heal any ailments. He had never felt left out before when his punks had gone through the hour-long milking but now... The device in his bag seemed to weight heavy even when he wasn't wearing the rucksack.
Tune in next time for a little bit of slavery.