Mad Max Villains

Mad Max Villains

You see! There is no escape! The Humungus Rules the Wasteland!

Chapter Eleven

Rapid Fire

(Words & Music by: Tipton, Downing & Halford)

Pounding the world like a battering ram
Forging the furnace for the final grand slam
Chopping away at the source soon the course will be done
Leaving a trail of destruction that's second to none

Hammering anvils, straining muscle and might
Shattering blows, crashing browbeating fright
Fast devastating and desolisating the curse
Blasting the cannons of truth through each man of this earth

Wielding the axe comes the one culmination
That's always seemed certain to bring down the curtain on greed

Sifting the good from the bad it's the age for the rage
Of the dogs which must fall to the just and be free

Now grate for the vandals who trampled and sampled
Till this place conditioned brought forth demolition to war

The slipping and sliding corrosive subsiding
That withered and waned till the world seemed all drained fills the bay
~~~

The fifth compound. Yea, they now had the fifth compound commanded by Pappagello under siege. Three years, three damn long years it had taken to reach this point. And he was tired of the Humungus's pitiful attempts at leading. If he was responsible for the Dogs of War, it never would have taken them this long to tear down the four compounds and finally begin attacking the fifth. Even now, their attack was not going well. For over a week they had unsuccessfully attempted to break through the well guarded walls of the huge refinery.

To be honest, he was almost ready to tell the Mohawkers they were leaving. He longed to uproot his warriors from this pitiful army. Bah, the Gayboy Berserkers and Smegma Crazies were incompetent fools. The only respect he had was for the Skinheads who seemed to understand how a great gang should be commanded.

He glanced over to the bonfire where his Golden Youth stood. Now eighteen and the making of a man, the rose of the wasteland still possessed the elegant innocence that first captivated him when the lad had been a mere fifteen year's old. His mate was taller now, standing six-feet, make that six feet and two inches in those boots. So long legged, the sinewy muscles now filled out but still delicately lean. Each year the youth lived, that great beauty just intensified.

And that was another reason why he was pissed. He slept outside now, on full alert since the defenders of the compound were much more stealth than those of the previous encampments they raided. Being forced to sleep outside gnawed at his insides since he couldn't mate with his lover. The ache in his groin left him more tense, angry and impatient than usual.

Jealous, even over a hand. The youth was such a passionate young man, needing to quench that burning desire as much as he hungered to bury his release into those gentle buttocks. And he was livid, wondering if his mate was relieving the sexual tension with those long, delicate fingers. By god's, the Golden Youth better not be. Oh yea, he never minded if his lover jerked that pretty cock while he lay on their bed of robes and watched, and then proceeded to fuck the beautiful blond after being teased by such a sensual sight. But he would not allow his mate to lay in that tent alone and stroke that pretty cock while he slept outside, aching and longing to bury his seed into the beautiful, young man.

Just then the Golden Youth left the warmth of the bonfire and began heading for the tent.

Wez left his spot and stalked to his mate. "We use too much fuel," he snarled. "He know this not working. He won't listen to me."

The youth gazed at him, sensing his master's agitation. "Why don't you come to bed tonight?" the Golden Youth beseeched him as he pressed his lithe body against the strong muscles of the master's. "It'll do you some good to relax."

Wez almost wanted to smack his mate. Did the youth just purposely tease and tempt him? How dare the bitch rub that lean-muscled body and pretty crotch all over his flesh? God, never was he so horny. So it was his anger that made him say, "Golden Youth, enough. Get me my cover."

Sure enough his mate obeyed, leaning into the tent to grab the fur. Now he almost wanted to growl when he gazed at that beautiful ass on display, the tight leather outlining every curve of those magnificent buttocks.

Just then the youth turned, holding out the robe.

Wez snatched the blanket and yet, the vision he just gazed at only a moment ago pounded through his loins. Oh God, he just wanted to yank down those pants, bend the bitch over, spread those cheeks and ram his dick right up that hole. Then he gave a gruff snarl and drew his mate against him.

The Golden Youth eagerly responded and locked his slim arms around the broad shoulders.

Their tongues met, lips joining as they both feasted on each others wet, moist mouths.

Oh God, he had to break this kiss or he'd be cooped up inside the tent all night with his lover. So he drew away, gazing into those big, blue eyes that silently begged to be fucked. Oh Lord, such temptation. It was taking every ounce of strength he possessed to still the heat in his loins from overpowering him.

"Go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning," Wez gruffly stated.

"Master, may I sleep outside with you tonight?" the youth begged. "We don't have to do anything. I just wanna be with you."

Oh geez, he loathed seeing that pleading look in those big, innocent eyes. He hated denying his mate anything. But yet, he needed to be on full alert. Dammit, he was ready to kill the Humungus for dragging him into this predicament.

"No," he firmly stated. "You know what will happen if we sleep together. I can't have no distractions. Go to bed."

Quickly, he turned and stalked away. He had to. He refused to see the disappointment in his lover's eyes. Goddammit, it had been over a week since they mated. And the youth, so damn meek and bashful was begging for a good fucking tonight. He wasn't the only one aching with raw hunger.

Angrily, he tossed down the fur robe, gazing at the tent. Was the Golden Youth wiggling out of those tight pants? Was his mate slipping off that skimpy vest? Was the beautiful manhood erect, hard just like his? Was his lover laying on the tight tummy with that pretty read end in the air? Aaaarggghhhh!

Then he glanced down at his boner. Yeah, a quick jerk and it'd be all over. But he hadn't jerked off since he met his mate. He wanted to ram this hard dick between his lover's lips. So he spread out on the fur with his arms tucked under his head and gazed at the compound. Yeah, maybe if he just stared at the encampment and thought about some great times fucking the youth, he'd just cum.

Hmm, fucking. Was his mate fucking the fur robe? He realized then his Golden Youth had yet to mount up like all men did. Now he was a bit intrigued since he'd like to see the youth rutting between a man's thighs. But like hell he'd watch his innocent lover fuck someone else and there wasn't a chance in hell he'd bend over and get it up the ass. It couldn't be done even though he wished he could allow his mate the right every man should have. But he was master and if he let the youth fuck him, no longer would he be the protector of the Golden Youth.

They both had their roles. He was strength, agility and death. The youth was beauty, intelligence and life. And when they formed as one unit, they were unstoppable, filling a void the other lacked. Maybe that's why being on the motorcycle meant so much to him? Even when they weren't mating in the tent, they were locked together as one on the bike. Actually, ever since he captured the youth, they were never far from each other. Even now, the Golden Youth was shielded within the canvas cover and yet, he lay only ten feet away, choosing a spot where he could quickly aid his mate if anything was amiss while he kept an eye on the compound.

The footsteps interrupted his thoughts and he watched Rebel approach, just a blanket draped over the broad shoulders as those solid legs moved in giant strides.

"Wish Mayah would shut the fuck up," Rebel growled as he tossed his blanket on the dirt and seated himself. "I slap her around and she still not shut that big mouth."

Wez nodded his head. It was apparent his comrade's bitch was also uptight with their never-ending surveillance on the compound.

"She keep bitching, I'll kill her," Rebel grunted. Then he picked at the jerky in his pocket and began gnawing at the smoked meat.

Kill, kill and more killing. That's all they ever spoke about since meeting in the juvenile correctional facility.

Wez noted how his crony refrained from keeping watch on Mayah. He knew their tent was pitched on the other side of the camp. But, the bitch was a mount to his comrade and nothing more. As if his right-hand would give two shits if someone killed the woman? He doubted anyone ever captured Rebel's heart. Actually, if he was busy overseeing other duties, he knew for a fact his crony watched over the Golden Youth instead of Mayah.

Oh yeah, he knew his comrade desired his mate, but Rebel's loyalty was so great that he knew the blue-haired Mohawker would never have the gall to try and fuck the Golden Youth. Once they had their stand-off after he first captured his mate, his crony backed off, losing the fight for mastership. Glory Rider was another man he had total confidence in. And he trusted Leather Face, but not enough to ever leave the bastard alone with his lover.

"How our beautiful one doing?" Rebel grunted, moving his eyes to the tent.

"Just told him go to bed," Wez replied. "He not very pleased."

"Nobody pleased about this," he growled. "Glory Rider and Leather Face also pissed."

Wez nodded his head. None of the Mohawkers were keen on the Humungus's leadership.

"I know Skinheads would join us," Rebel pointed out through a mouthful of jerky.

"What you say?" Wez asked.

"We get rid of Humungus," Rebel muttered under his breath. "Lots of talking going on. We not only ones pissed with how this going."

Now they both gazed at the compound where the Warrior Woman stood on the battlement, manning the flamethrower. Surrounding the refinery was a deep trench and barb-wired fencing. An old bus with a steel covering served as the main entrance. The lighting powered by an old generator cast shadows over the desert sand.

"If he can't get us in here, what make him think we can take over the New City?" Rebel grunted in disgust.

"He not no leader," Wez snorted as he folded his powerful arms, his gaze still on the compound. "I tell him some must die so we can get in. If we go in three lines, cars first, then dune buggies and then motorcycles, we can knock down fencing at the back. Yea, some cars fall in the big trench but will give bridge so rest of us can get in. Has to be a rush. And must be then hand-to-hand combat."

"Yea, I know but you think he listen to your plan?" Rebel growled.

"He too stupid to listen to anyone," Wez spat out. "He not use it because he know I'm right."

"Will have to make scavenge run tomorrow," Rebel noted. "Lose so much gasoline trying to get inside. Getting low."

Wez gave a snarl. Dammit, another reason why he wanted to get the hell out of here. All the fucking capital they built up, the gas, weapons, men and vehicles - slowly dwindling away thanks to the Humungus's failed attempts to get them into the compound. And of course the Smegma Crazies followed the big leader, never straying from the battle plan. The Gayboy Berserkers also showed much loyalty, but he knew it was out of fear.

"You know our men will always follow us," Rebel pointed out. "And I know Skinheads have much respect for you. I think Berserkers would join us if they know we would back them if Humungus throw his weight around. As for Smegmas . . ."

Wez nodded his head in agreement.

"He keep this up, we will lose more men," Rebel added. "Mohawkers and Skinheads casualties are low but sooner or later someone who mean much to us could die, like Glory Rider or Leather Face. Is not good to lose strong warriors like them."

Sooner or later someone who mean much to us could die. Wez's eyes narrowed. Never before did he question his ability to protect his mate but he did not like that statement. Rebel was right. It was only a matter of time when they lost good fighters thanks to the Humungus's futile plan.

*****

The sun was rising, the magnificent ball of fiery red edging out over the rolling hills. All it took was the flash of light and Wez's lids flickered. He gave a grunt, his eyes focusing on the compound where all was quiet. So he drew back the fur and stood. Giving his body a quick stretch, he then reached down, snatching up the robe as he stalked to the tent to perform his next task.

Yeah, each morning was the same this past week: Wake, look to the compound to make sure nothing was amiss and then he checked on his lover. He drew back the flap to the tent, slowly edging inside as his gaze locked on the Golden Youth.

His mate was fast asleep, the gentle breathing deep, lids closed and long lashes fanning the silken skin. The lean body was curled into a fetal position as the youth nestled another robe, using the fur garment for a pillow. The chain snaked out from underneath the plush covering. His lover's boots, pants, vest and wrist bands were neatly placed to the side.

He sat back on his haunches, just gazing at his mate for the longest time. So damn beautiful. The fifteen-year-old lad had nothing on the eighteen-year-old young man he stared at. And with age, although his lover still tended to still sit in deep silence, a confidence was slowly building in that innocent soul. No longer did his mate flinch upon seeing death or torture. Always, the youth just sat on the bike, watching the raids without any emotion. He knew his mate had fully accepted this way of life. Yet, the young man wasn't hardened or jaded from it all. Actually, the youth sorta seemed immune to the brutality that went on within the camp. Those big, blue eyes only focused on one object: his master.

The youth seemed to sense his presence because suddenly the long lashes fluttered. Now came the shy smile. Wez gave a grunt. Fuck, did he ever love that smile - so damn boyish, so bashfully graceful.

There was no: Good morning, Master. How are you? How did your night go? And he didn't expect the youth to ask. Small talk was something he never cared for and his lover also didn't seem to take an interest in meaningless chatter.

"Get dressed," Wez gruffly said. "We head out to get more gasoline."

The Golden Youth nodded his head. He gave a slight yawn and stretched his lean body, flexing his arms behind his head.

Wez gazed at the thatch of silken, light-blond hair under the youth's arms, the golden strands so fine that the hair was almost transparent. The same light-blond hair graced his lover's arms. Yeah, manhood, but just like Robin, his lover would always possess that delicate beauty. Now off came the fur robe and he looked at the thatch of golden hair surrounding his mate's crotch.

"Do we have any coffee left, Master?" the youth asked.

"No," Wez grunted. "Is all gone. Maybe we find some on the raid."

He chuckled since the youth looked annoyed. Well, he'd better find some since his mate liked the bitter tasting, hot liquid.

The Golden Youth gave another yawn and reached for his clothing. He should be used to waking this early by now since the master was always up with the birds, but being an early riser didn't agree with him. Always, he was a bit sluggish on the bike until the sleep finally wore off.

While the youth donned his clothes, Wez grabbed the brush and began running the bristles through his mate's hair. He liked performing this task. Grooming his mate always relaxed him.

"We find you more coffee," Wez said.

"It's okay," the youth replied. Sure, he liked drinking the black liquid but it didn't really matter. Nothing mattered to him but being with his master.

Actually, he was still trying to unravel the puzzle about his master. Yeah, he knew Wez had led the Mohawkers before forming the Dogs of War with the Humungus. And the master had also been born in the Great City before this big war he had no recollection of, but that was the only information he had. Sometimes he wished the master would share more with him about this mysterious past life before they met. But, he would never ask. Questioning the master was a no-no. And, he did have faith Wez would tell him what he needed to know in due time.

The one time he did try and question, the master simply said, It not matter. Nothing matter. Is the past. I have you now.

At times he felt like they were on some kind of quest. Yeah, it was a nomadic lifestyle, small raids and big raids like this one. Still, he sensed they were going north all this time, while zigging and zagging back and forth across the wasteland.

So just where would this all end?

"You thinking again," Wez gruffly noted as he set the brush down.

The Golden Youth blushed. "You always know when I'm thinking," he noted sheepishly.

"Of course I do. Am your master," Wez replied. "Enough thinking. Let's go."

So the youth laced his fingers through the master's and let the powerful man draw him off the bed of furs. Now came the good morning kiss. Yeah, each day they had to start off by touching one another.

"Must do," Wez gruffly said as he tightened his arms around the youth's slim waist. "Life not the way it used to be. Life very fast out here. Death very fast."

The youth's eyes filled with worry. Dammit, he didn't want to feel fear because it would upset the master for it was perceived as a lack of faith in Wez's ability to protect him. But still . . . Oh God, if he lost the master, he'd have no reason to live.

"Always be together, Golden Youth," Wez softly growled. "Quit thinking."

The youth nodded his head and they left the tent together, heading for the bike to make another scavenge run.

*****

"Iason," came the deep voice. "Iason, wake up. All work is done. The plants, vegetables and fruit have been harvested. The men just placed the last of the food into the vehicles."

Iason rolled over and he lazily gazed at his lover. The heat was rather intense so he knew it must be late morning. Even the reflective covering over the tent could not keep the desert's hot temperature at bay. He kicked off the fur robe and sat up, running his fingers through his long, loose-curled locks. "Is everyone ready?" he asked.

"Yes," Vashta replied. "We're just waiting on you."

"Well, tell one of the men to fetch me some water. It's so hot and I want to wash my hair and have a sponge bath before we set off. And get me a change of clothes," Iason said, his voice filled with dismissal.

Vashta's eyes narrowed. "I am not one of your underlings right now. I am your lover waking you. So kindly refrain from giving me orders."

The evergreen eyes alit with amusement. "Oh, easy, my love," Iason coaxed with a giggle. "I know when to be a general and when to be a bitch."

Now Vashta laughed. A bitch. Hmm, how true were those words. Not only was this minx a bitchy, arrogant hellcat, he was also the mount. "Someone knew what they were doing when they thought to refer to the one on the receiving end as the bitch."

Iason cast him an amused smile. "Just your bitch, sweetheart." Ah, in a way he didn't want to kill Vashta once the big hunk served out the purpose. He rather enjoyed this strong man's company. Oh sure, his lover wasn't sadistic, cunning and hardened like Alex, but he rather enjoyed how Vashta could always make him laugh.

Yes, his big lover just had a way of making him giggle, and yes, sheath his claws and roll over just like a cat wanting a tummy rub.

"They can wait," Iason murmured in a sultry voice. "I can't. So fuck me, baby."

Vashta chuckled as he edged down on the robe. "Do you know if civilization didn't fall to shit, I'd marry you, sexy."

Iason's evergreen eyes widened in alarm. His heart seemed to drop out from underneath him as he gazed at his lover. Yes, he slept with so many men that he lost count. And all sexual encounters had been meaningless, only serving one purpose: to get what he wanted. And of course each man he fucked had their own purpose as well. Sex was a bargaining tool and nothing more.

Yet, this was the first time a man asked for nothing in return. All Vashta wanted was . . . Well, what did his hunky lover want? Why would Vashta marry him?

Then he managed to gather his bearings as he drew on his natural hardness and shook off the thoughts. "Hon, such silly thoughts. Even if civilization didn't go to shit, we wouldn't have married. Heavens, I think those fags were still fighting for equal rights when life went to hell."

"Fags," Vashta snorted with amusement. "Just what the hell do you think you are?"

Now Iason giggled. "What can I say? Women never cut it for me. Oh sure, I fucked a few but I rather like my big, brawny studs."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Iason cooed as he drew his finger lovingly down the strong chest. "You're the second man I gladly let get on me. And I rather enjoy playing bitch for you."

Now Vashta frowned. He cast his lover a questioning look. "So tell me, was this Alexander the first?"

Iason giggled. "Oh, please. Honey, he was someone I liked spreading my legs for but he served his purpose and I easily chose freedom over his dick. Now he'll serve another purpose. His small army of marauders will help us take the New City for ourselves."

"Yeah, seems like every man has served a purpose for you," Vashta noted. "I'm not gonna just be another purpose, am I?"

Iason blanched. "Now, sweetie, what would make you think that? I just got done saying I like being with you."

"I'm not stupid, beautiful," Vashta replied in a warning voice. "I know you fucked over many a man in your time. And you thought nothing of leaving good ole Alex high and dry. I just wanna make sure you don't do the same thing to me."

"Trust me," Iason coyly teased. "Do I look like I'd fuck you over? Oh please, your imagination is running amuck. Now c'mon, fuck me, baby. I want you so bad."

So Vashta began kissing him and Iason relaxed. Yes, begging for sex always worked and shut a man up. Yet, he realized at this moment he wasn't as hard as he thought himself to be. Yes, it did bother him that he would have to cross Vashta to get what he wanted. Could he really kill his obedient, big lug? God, eight years now, for eight years this was the only man whom he slept with.

The monogamy seemed to come so naturally. Unlike Alex who ordered him to keep his pants zipped, Vashta never once asked for faithfulness. It just seemed to naturally unfold between them. And he was in a position where he didn't have to use sex as a weapon to survive. So why did he enjoy having this big hunk mount him? Why did he purr with contentment whenever this burly man fucked him?

And why the hell was he having a change of heart in the first place? He thought nothing of ordering many a lover to their deaths in the past. So why was it so different now?

Oh God, could he really do it?. Dammit, how could he kill a man who worshiped the ground he walked on and never asked for anything in return? Trust. Never did he think twice about trust. But yet, Vashta trusted him. If he didn't conjure up this devious plan to find Alex so they could take over the New City, Vashta would have been content maintaining the status quo. Because, he realized all Vashta wanted out of this crazy, uncivilized life was him.

Now his evergreen eyes brightened from within. Vashta gave a grunt, gazing in awe at the way those slanting eyes sparkled like emeralds.

"You thinking about my proposition?" he huskily whispered. "Marry me, Iason. Yeah, there ain't no judicial system around to make it legal, but standing with you at sunrise and hearing you say it'll only be the two of us from now on is all I need and want."

Iason sucked in his breath as he returned his lover's intense stare. "Vashta," he moaned, drawing his arms tightly around the big man's broad shoulders. "Damn you, Vashta. I never wanted to give a damn about you!"

Now he realized even though someone had to die, it would never be Vashta. So, what if he lured Alex into another trap and then killed the neanderthal after Ramses was brought down?

Now Iason smiled as he gazed at his lover. Yes, if he murdered Alex, he'd have what he wanted: The New City and Vashta. And this time he would not return to the city until he found Alex in the wasteland. When he arrived, he would be bringing the Mohawkers with him.

*****

Wez slammed the motorcycle down on the hard pavement after ramping the first wreck on the highway and then corrected his steering as he easily swerved around the other wreck. Damn, he was pissed. The Interceptor was outrunning him. The big Kawasaki couldn't keep up. And already he lost quite a few men on this chase since only a road racer driven by a Gayboy Berserker and a dune buggy commanded by a Smegma Crazy accompanied him.

He knew it was a former MFP driving that black-on-black. And he was livid since he wanted to kill this former cop. The only thing that kept his steaming anger under control was the Golden Youth's silken thighs spooning his hips. Yeah, always his lover could calm that rage in his blackened heart.

Just then the Interceptor slowed so Wez knew the cop had turned off the supercharger. Now was his chance. He raised his metal-wrist crossbow in the air, ready to take aim and send the arrow through the bastard's skull. Suddenly, the black-on-black braked and he felt the pain shooting up his arm since one of the stray arrows fired from the other side of the Interceptor came from the Gayboy Berserker's Porta-Pack, embedded deep into his muscle.

Quickly, he fought to control the bike and he steered off the highway, cresting through the sand. The speed was so intense, trying to get the big front tire under control required all his strength. His Golden Youth road pillion and he refused to crash and injure his mate. Finally, the bike straightened out. First things first, he had to get this arrow out of his arm.

Just then he heard the loud crashes over the rise. Ah yes, the road racer and dune buggy brought down the cop. He gave a hissy laugh and pushed the bike at a faster pace, easily slamming the front tire back on the highway as he raced to the crest in the road.

Then his eyes narrowed when he realized the dune buggy was flipped over on its roof and the road racer was in the same state of affairs. Just the Interceptor was intact. The cop had vacated the vehicle, looking to the wrecks, wanting the fuel, while also glancing to the crest at the big Kawasaki. The MFP then charged to the vehicles to siphon the fuel tanks.

Wez then gave his war cry. The cop glanced up, now mopping up the gasoline spilling from the dune buggy's tank with a rag.

Yes, look at me. Look at me and see death, copper. Slowly, Wez pulled the arrow from his forearm. Then he gave a snarly grin when the arrowhead gave, leaving his skin. He placed the weapon into his quiver. Now he'd run down that cop. He gave the bike some gas when the MFP quickly stood, withdrawing a sawed-off shotgun.

So he turned the bike, heading back for the crest as he raised the tire in the air, popping a wheelie, letting the cop know the fight wasn't finished yet. The Golden Youth clutched his hips as they road over the rise. Then he gunned the engine as he threw back his head and gave a hissy laugh. The tire slammed back down on the pavement and they were off.

Okay, sure the MFP had cost him a few men, and that coward needed a shotgun to go one-on-one against him, and he prevailed. If it wasn't for the pathetic Gayboy Berserker and Smegma Crazy, he would have fucking killed that cop!

Ah, the chase, the deaths, now he was good and horny. He needed some ass. Yeah, he'd find a place to spread the youth's long legs and poke his dick up that hole. Oh lord, his groin ached. It had been too long since he buried his seed between those buttocks. So he continued down the highway and then noted with interest the thick bushels that would give them some privacy. He steered the big bike off the road and he could hear the youth sigh with exasperation. What the hell was this bitch's problem?

"We'll find more," Wez gruffly stated as he stopped the bike and switched off the engine.

"The Humungus is going to wonder what happened," the Golden Youth reminded him. God, never could his master follow simple orders. They had been cannibalizing a farm to get more fuel since all the vehicles tanks were almost on empty back at the base camp. They had a compound under siege. Yet, when that stupid MFP showed up, the master thought to lead a chase, leaving the fuel wide open for other scavengers to take. And they lost Rebel and the others in the road battle, not knowing what happened to them. Shouldn't the master be thinking about checking on the men he led and securing the gasoline back at that farm instead of wanting to get laid? "We were supposed to get more fuel, not chase some former cop down the highway," the youth added. "We might have lost nine cars in that battle."

Wez turned slightly in his seat. What the fuck? He couldn't believe the gall of this disrespectful tone. Where the hell did his mate get off speaking to him this way? "You think to question me, Golden Youth? You think to obey the Humungus's order instead of mine? You say I cost us our men?"

The youth stiffened slightly. "I didn't say that."

"Your mouth is getting too big," Wez snarled. "You speak out too much now."

Then his eyes widened in disbelief when the youth got off the bike and began striding away, those delicate fingers placed on the slim hips.

Wez was stunned. Never did the youth show such disobedience before, such arrogance. "Don't you dare walk away from me when I'm speaking to you," he roared.

Slowly, the youth stopped in his tracks and turned, facing the master as he folded the slim arms.

Wez growled under his breath. He did not like that stance, or the look in those sapphire blue eyes. Oh boy, he was going to put this bitch in a proper place. "You defiant fuck! You dare to look at me in such a way?"

"I don't wanna fight," the youth spat out. "Let's just go back to camp and forget all this. Okay?"

Wez shook his head. Oh no, they weren't going anywhere. They were going to stay here and slug it out until he showed this bitch who was the boss. "You think that MFP beat me? You think I led an attack that failed? You not think I can get into the compound?"

"What the hell is the matter with you?" the youth cried out in exasperation. "I didn't say any of that stuff."

"But you think it," Wez growled.

"No, I don't," the youth replied, shaking his head.

Wez rose off the bike. "Get undressed."

The youth's eyes narrowed. "No. I wanna go back to camp."

Oh God, he couldn't believe this. First the bitch insinuated the entire mess was his fault and now the disobedient slut refused to drop those pants? "I said get undressed," Wez roared. "You begged me to fuck you last night, so I'm gonna fuck you!"

"Fuck yourself," the Golden Youth screeched. "I wanna go back to camp."

Bitch! You fucking bitch! This'll teach you to back talk. He raised his arm and backhanded his lover across the face. The youth's head snapped from the impact and the sapphire blue eyes filled with hate.

"Get undressed," he snarled.

"No."

Wez's eyes widened in disbelief. Oh God, now he couldn't stop the rage. Never did such immense hate fill him before. All he wanted to do was beat this defiant bitch and rape that body. Oh yeah, their joining wouldn't be sweet this time. He would fuck that slut till the bitch's ass bled and never would this whore dare to back talk again.

The Golden Youth's sapphire blue eyes widened with fear, sensing his master's anger.

Wez wound up his fist and he drove his knuckle deep into the youth's slim belly.

The youth went over backwards, falling from the blow. He clutched his flat stomach since the wind had been knocked from him. His face lay against the dirt as he fought to regain air.

Satisfied, Wez bent over and tugged on the golden locks, his eyes narrowed. "You gonna still talk back?"

The youth's soul filled with hate. He wanted to spit on his master but he didn't want to receive a beating, so he muttered, "Leave me alone."

Okay, if that's how the bitch wanted it. "I'll teach you to disobey me," Wez roared.

He lunged at the youth's skin tight pants, tugging on the material with all his strength, determined to rip the clothes off his lover and fuck this bitch while beating the whore. But the tight leather wouldn't give. In frustration, he raised his hand, knocking the youth on the back of the head.

The youth tried to crawl away, reeling from the blow.

Wez grabbed the slim waist.

"Let me go," the youth screamed.

Again, Wez raised his fist and sent his mighty knuckle down on the youths' delicate back. His lover went face first into the dirt from the blow.

"I'll cut those fucking pants off you," Wez roared.

"Leave me alone," the youth shouted just as his delicate voice broke.

Then came the tears. Sobs seeped from the youth's throat as he crawled away, burying his face into his hands. His gentle cries filled the air as his slight body shook. "I wanna go home," he wailed, his voice filled with pain.

Wez took a deep breath. Now he loathed his hot temper. And he was also angry with the youth for such disobedience that got them into this mess in the first place. Most of all, he didn't like the fact his mate thought about the guardians. His lover was wishing he was back at the small house, being cared for and protected by the two keepers.

He crawled in the dirt, sitting beside his mate as he drew his arms around the delicate waist, trying to find a way to comfort his lover.

The youth tried to shrug off his touch.

The rejection made Wez stiffen with anger. Once again those hate-filled feelings were surfacing.

"Golden Youth," he warned his mate.

"Don't hit me anymore," the youth cried out.

What? The youth was blaming him for this mess? "I hit you when you disobey me. You know this!"

"Well, I have feelings," the youth shouted. "It hurts me when you hit me!"

"And it makes me angry when you disobey," Wez growled.

Then he grabbed the youth, drawing his mate deep against his strong chest. "I told you, I am your protector and master."

The youth continued to sob and through choke-filled breaths he whispered, "I know. But my mother never hit me. Neither did my uncle. They let me speak and they didn't get mad if I told them how I felt."

Now the youth shook his golden head in frustration, realizing it was pointless to try and reason with his master since the man was like a wild wolf roaming the wasteland. Of course the master beat on him, hollered to the heavens and then tried to rape him. Cripe, before they met, the master didn't have an inclination of what love was. The master had been only driven by animalistic instinct. Whatever made him think he could find just a speck of humanity in such a black heart?

Wez gazed at the big, sapphire blue eyes. He almost wanted to sigh. Yeah, he knew what the youth wanted from him. The delicate blond desired a lover who would care for him the way the guardians had, someone who would shower the silken skin with sweet kisses and fill those innocent ears with tender I love you's. But dammit, from day one he told the youth how life would be for the two of them. He was the master and the youth must obey. To survive in this wasteland, each individual had their roles to play. This wasn't some civilized city where a hero would show up to save the day. This was real life for fuck sakes.

"I know what you want," Wez gruffly stated. "Can't be done. Can't give you what you want and stay alive out here, Golden Youth. You know this."

"I understand," the youth softly replied, nodding his head. He did truly understand. He knew the master would give him what he needed if they weren't living in hell on earth.

Now their gazes both locked. The hunger was deep in Wez's soul. So obedient, so accepting, so trusting. All he had to do was say the word and the youth took his statement at face value. God, he loved this young man so much. Yes, he ached to tell his mate what the youth already knew what lay in his heart, but yet, it just couldn't be done.

"We talk too much," Wez gruffly stated. "I fuck you now. Enough talking."

His lips covered the Golden Youth's mouth and he sighed when his mate deeply returned the kiss, lacing those silken arms around his broad neck. Ah, how he loved feasting upon this nectar. He couldn't believe moments earlier he almost raped his lover. Why? He didn't want to force himself on this delicate rose. No way. He wanted those legs to spread for him and the sapphire blue eyes to be filled with that beseeching look, aching to be taken.

He traced his tongue along the youth's silken skin, tasting those high cheekbones, the slim nose and smooth chin. His hand caressed the stiff erection, the hard-on feeling so wet and hot against the leather material. He worked his fingers inside the pants and gave a sigh of delight when his own skin connected with the youth's manhood.

Yeah, so hard. You want me. You're hard for me. The tip is so wet with pre-seed, eager to have me make you feel oh so good.

"Yes, make you feel good," Wez softly growled as he traced his wet tongue up his lover's face.

"Please," the youth softly begged.

"What I feel in here," Wez grunted as he pointed to his heart, still kissing his golden lover, "this speaks when I fuck you."

The youth nodded his head. Oh yes, what did words matter? His master hated making the talk. Always, this big, strong man was about action. And showing that deep love when they came together as one meant more to him than what words could say.

Wez then worked on the leather pants and the youth assisted him. Yeah, he could just as easily scavenge chaps with a leather t-back for his mate to wear and it would make life easier when they came together as one. But like hell he'd allow anyone else to look at his lover's naked ass. And he sure didn't want to make raping the youth an easy feat if something did go wrong and he could not react fast enough to protect his mate. Yeah, he knew was silly since he never questioned his ability to protect his most prized possession. Yet, caution must be adhered to when it came to this rose. Never would he allow anyone to claim what was rightfully his.

Finally, they both managed to get the pants down and the leather material sat on the heels of the youth's boots. Wez removed his groin strap and he drew the youth's long legs over his head, letting the slim thighs trap him between those long legs. His hands worked on the three fasteners to the youths' vest. First he unsnapped the buckle just below the slim neck, then he unsnapped the tight leather straining under the youth's chest. Finally, he undid the last one just at the sexy naval.

The vest fell to the side and he gazed at the smooth, bare flesh of his lover. Gently, he bit down on the nipple, drawing the tip between his teeth as he heard the youth gasp. Those long, delicate fingers cupped the back of his neck and he gave a grunt of pleasure. God, how he loved having this beautiful creature just succumb.

Anyone. His golden lover could have any man or woman and yet, this beautiful young man was all his to take and use. This exquisite being proudly wore the leather collar and chain, regally showing all that he belonged to the master. This breathtaking creature obediently followed him all over the wasteland, never questioning, so accepting.

At times, just like now, he was always so confused, wondering how he won the love of such a beautiful, gentle, kind and quietly-intelligent young man.

Their lips met then, both hungrily tasting one another's wet flesh. Yeah, the kiss. How he loved sucking on the youth's silken tongue and feeding off the moist nectar within his lover's mouth. Such elixir. Now he roughly explored the youth's neck.

Then came the laughter. The laugh was so soft, such a sweet, boyish giggle and his eyes widened in disbelief. And he wasn't surprised the regal laugh was so like the youth: genteel and elegant. God, the sound was ambrosia to his ears. Never did he hear this lovely sound from his mate before. "First time I hear you laugh," he grunted.

The youth laced his slim arms around the master's neck. "It's cause you make me so happy," he gently replied, those big eyes so doe-like, shining with wonder.

I love you. I love you so much, Golden Youth. God, the words were on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to tell his beautiful mate what lay in his heart. Never before did the youth gift him with that husky giggle and he wanted to share something he never presented his lover with as well. The moment was so blissful, so intimate. He swore their souls were coming together as one.

Instead, Wez buried his face into the silken hair, inhaling the delicate fragrance as he searched for the tight portal with his manhood. Up came the slim hips and he gave a sigh of delight since the youth was so eager to be mounted, wanting his big, stiff erection.

Now came another soft giggle when he entered the narrow hole. Then a gasp. And another soft laugh.

"Oh yes, you feel so good, Master," the youth cried out. "Fuck me. Please, just fuck me."

Oh yeah, beg. Beg and plead for my cock. It's music to my ears when you're so eager to have me that you're clawing at me, demanding to be fed with seed.

Hmm, and his lover couldn't wait. The narrow hips were thrusting, the tight ass rising and taking in his thick, long erection.

He swatted that beautiful ass. "So horny you are," Wez grunted.

"Oh, Master, it's been too long. Forgive me but I just need you so bad. I need you so bad because I love you so much," the youth moaned as he continued to thrust his hips.

Ah yes, he loved hearing that declaration coming from those rose colored lips. Never could he get enough of hearing his mate speaking from that innocent heart.

God, now the deep ache welled up in his own heart. The giggle, the declaration of love, those shy smiles, the tight hole so filled with desire, taking his manhood prisoner - always the youth was so ready to share. And he wanted to tell the Golden Youth what did lay in his heart. Yes, his lover knew he loved and cherished every inch of the silken flesh and that delicate soul. He didn't have to speak the words, and yet he longed to.

I love you. And one day I will tell you. Maybe on the tomorrow. Maybe the day after tomorrow. But one day I will tell you, Golden Youth.

Next Page - Chapter Twelve

Note: "Mad Max" is a trademark and copyright of Kennedy-Miller Entertainment/Warner Bros. George Miller, Byron Kennedy and Terry Hayes (Kennedy Miller Entertainment/ Warner Bros.) hold copyright to the Mad Max Trilogy.
This story is created for fan fiction purposes only. Some dialogue was taken from the script to keep this tale true to the original movie.

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