The years after the second great American civil war much of ..

The years after the second great American civil war much of the United States and the world have been left scorched. From the ruins a group of homosexual warlords emerged to gain control of what was left of civilization and formed the Gay Council and the New Order. In the areas under the New Order’s control there was a consistent need for straight men as laborers, breeders, and even sex slaves. Bands of marauders roamed the deserts of the American mid-west looking for fresh meat for the lucrative slave markets for the vast plantations of the new ruling gay elite. Max drove across the vast waste lands in his old modified police cruiser. The heat was unbearable as sweat ran down his muscular half nude body. The AC in the old police car had long since died. The only air was the hot wind blowing through the broken out windows of the vehicle. It blew through Max's blonde mohawk. The roar of the car engine was deafening as he sped down the long deserted road. He was almost naked, except for the tattered pair of briefs he wore and his police boots. Clothes were a luxury. Only the rich could afford fabric and material. Most of Max’s clothes he originally owned and those he later stole, had long become rags. Max was a police officer and happily married with a kid before the civil war destroyed everything that both sides calmed to love. He barely escaped the massacre of Denver in the final days of the war, however, his wife and daughter weren't fortunate. Maybe they were the fortunate ones, Max often thought as he drove across the baron wasteland. Skull sits upon his “throne” high on top of his massive truck, looking out onto the vast desert that stretched out before him. His marauders were on the hunt for more slaves to sell to the nearest gay warlord in the area. However, fit slaves were growing harder to come by. Skull was fat and disgusting, with his long unruly hair and the breathing mask he was made to wear due to the frequent sandstorms that made his already weak lungs unable to breathe. On top of the converted semi truck, at his feet, was Skull’s second in command. The 6’7 bodybuilder, known as Dog, was deep throating Skull’s cock. Dog’s body was hairless from the top of his head to his feet, except for the tall spiked Mohawk that stood 11” from his shaved head and fell to his massive shoulder. Skull pressed his booted foot against Dog’s leather jockstrap pouch, causing the more muscular man to grunt. Dog’s pale, smooth body was decorated with racist tattoos from the pre-second civil war era. Skull mused how much Dog hated him when he first captured the redneck Republican fighter. Skull was originally going to sale the impressive muscle stud to a client of his who sit on the Gay Council. However, he enjoyed using Dog so much that he decided to keep him for himself. Skull brutally broke him and made him into the perfect submissive slave. Everyone else in the marauding gang grew to fear Dog as much as they fear Skull. Skull looked through his binoculars, while Dog sucked and gagged on his cock. He looked out onto the dry out river bed of what was once the Mississippi River. A cloud of dust rose up into the air as a vehicle with old police markings sped through the barren landscape. Skull leaned forward and adjusted binoculars to get a better look. He could make out the blonde hair and broad muscular shoulders of the driver. He knew blond males were very popular on the slave block. Skull kicked Dog off his cock and shouted. Dog jumped from the massive truck and landed on his biker boot covered feet. He pulled on a black football shoulder pads over his head, a trophy from the gang’s raid on a university's dormitory turned into a sanctuary for its former students. He quickly saddled his large Harley Davidson chopper and kicked it started. Other men of the gang jumped into action as the massive truck roared to life. Max heard the marauders before he saw them in the rear view mirror. The trained police officer looked back at the massive truck rumbling toward him with two dozen motorcycles, dune buggies, and four wheelers surrounding it, racing toward him. He floored the gas and the modified police cruiser rocketed across the desert plain. The speed of the old beat up cruiser surprised the marauders at first. However, they quickly caught up to him. The old police cruiser had many tricks up its tailpipe. Max presses a button on the armrest console. The back trunk hood then flew off the police cruiser revealing a harpoon gun. Max then pressed a button on his steering wheel firing the harpoon. Dog swerved in time for the spear to miss him. Instead the spear hit and flipped one of the four wheelers into the air. However, the giant truck continued to gain speed on Max. Max tried to out race the swarm of bikes and four wheelers but there were too many of them and he quickly was running out of room. He was able to take out several more of the marauders before Dog shot his rifle at the police cruisers wheels, causing the car to swerve and crash into the rocks of dry out river bed. (Should I continue?)