Slave Planet: WAR OF THE BLOOD FIENDS!

DISCLAIMER...I own no part of the character Riddick or any part of the movie Pitch Black...This story is a tribute and not an effort to make money or promote any product whatsoever.
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Riddick had been on Tronas for little more than a month and he was already sick of the fucking place. Everything good about Tronas he could count on the fingers of one hand. It was safe from mercs cause the government here had a mandate that stated all merc ships would be blasted to oblivion on sight. And they had one helluva good tracking system to identify any and all ships entering the tronasian atmosphere. Even better was the ultra-modern, expensive as fuck weapons system they had in place to back up the no merc law. Cool.

Those were the best things Tronas had going for it. Other than that, the women were hot looking and easy, that was about it. There was absolutely nothing to fucking do on this planet that Riddick could see. The only legal drink in town was some nasty tasting native brewed shit called trunk. It sucked. Lately though, Riddick had to admit that he was starting to develop a taste for the vile smelling concoction. That worried him right there. He had also started reading again which wasn't of itself such a bad thing, it was just that on Tronas good books were hard as fuck to find and even the bad ones were expensive as hell to buy.

There were no real cities on Tronas, just a few small, rundown looking towns scattered here and there. The only real industries were logging and mining. Hard fucking work. The lumber here was much sought after throughout the galaxy for its incredible beauty and endurance. It was said that a house built of good tronasian wood would stand for three hundred years, maybe longer.
Tronas had no shortage of timber. No matter which direction one looked there was nothing but trees. Trees, mountains, and blue sky. It was kind of a picturesque place but boring as fucking hell, not to mention backwards. Yeah, Venne of Tronas was a real shithole of a place as far as Riddick could tell.

Riddick had even decided to take a job cause things had gotten so bad. He didn't much care for working but the job he had in mind wouldn't be like real work, might even be fun. Anything had to be better than sitting around on his ass all day reading some fucking shit book about a little house on the praire somewhere on ancient earth. And this was the last book around that he hadn't read yet. Shit. Besides, he was starting to feel a whole lot like he was living the story. Know what I mean?

Oh yeah, there was one other industry on Tronas, the sex slave industry. From time to time the various communites would raid each other in order to round up a few attractive young folk to sell to alien slave merchants. Human sex slaves had long been a valued commodity on certain alien worlds. Like I said, the women were hot looking and would fetch a very nice pile of cash on the market. This was a traditional and well accepted means of picking up extra change on Tronas, which at least in this respect, was little different than any other planet. Eveybody wants money. It helped keep the population down too. Tronas had always been a redneck planet and that's the way they wanted to keep it. Nobody wanted their little backwoods paradise to be choked to death by big cities, smog, and all the stress that comes with overpopulation. That's why mercs were unwelcome. Fugitives like Riddick could esily be pressed into service raiding neighboring towns for fresh slave meat. The locals weren't overy concerned about being saturated by outlaws cause Tronas wasn't exactly the kind of planet badasses would take to. At least not for long. Nobody knew that better than Riddick. It was fucking boring man! Not to mention backwards as dogshit.

Anyhow, a few slaves had been brought in and the local merchants needed somebody to transport them to Merryville where the closest available spaceport was located. It was supposedly a pretty tough trip over bad terrain but Riddick saw no reason why he couldn't handle whatever came up. It didn't take long for the tough looking, begoggled outlaw to convince the slave owners he was the man they needed. He and another fugitive named Banin got the job. Riddick had seen Banin around and his new co-worker looked like a punk but that didn't matter as long as he kept his distance.

Now would be a good time to discuss some of the stranger aspects of the tronasian culture. Basically there are two types of transportation on Tronas. Walking and oxcart. Actually oxcart isn't much of an option cause roads are needed for carts and the only usuable roads were mostly in and around the towns. Besides, the oxen were needed 24/7 for all the logging and mining operations going down everywhere. Therefore one was left with two things that he could move about on. His feet. Landcrawlers, rovers, motorcycles, trucks, etc. had been strictly forbidden for years due to the overly rabid anti-pollution stances taken by most citizens. Riddick figured their attitudes could be rightly compared to the various hippie cults that once thrived on earth. Hippies were pretty much anti anything progressive and the same could be said of the people of Tronas. Thing was, they didn't seem to have any problem whatsoever with selling their neighbor's children off to be sex slaves. Weird, real fucking weird.

Tronas is quite famous for the amazing variety of plants that grow in tremendous abundance over literally every inch of the land. Unfortunately, a vast amount of these beautiful weeds, flowers, berries, etc. contain decidedly deadly poisons. While it's also true that a great many good and useful things grow on Tronas, one must first become aware of the bad stuff. And I'm talking very bad here. There is a reason no horses exist anywhere on the planet. For some unexplained reason this particular animal cannot resist eating several different species of the most lethal plants. When horses were first brought in many years ago they immediately rushed to fill their bellies with the life draining undergrowth. Typically horses, like most animals, have an instinct about what they can or cannot use for fodder. For whatever reason this instinct is totally dulled on Tronas. None of these friendly beasts of burden lasted more than thirty minutes. And it wasn't much fun watching them die horrible deaths. Efforts were made to eradicate the bad plant growth but all failed miserably. Anyhow, no fucking horses. Period.

Riddick normally turned his ears off when the locals would stike up their usual dull conversations about castrating hogs, digging for a variety of ore, or what big event was going down at the local elementary school. His keen hearing would tune in big time however when the talk turned to the mysterious plants of Tronas. He learned that there were some things you could chew or smoke and get one helluva fucking buzz going. Others, and these Riddick had tried, could be chewed for a few moments and seconds later a world class boner would pop up in the old cargo pants. The fugitive had used some of this stuff before sampling the merchandise in the town's only cathouse and WHOA! The damn shit worked like magic. It wasn't like Riddick needed help getting the junk up, partaking of these plants just made fucking a lot more fun. Not only that, Riddick also noticed a big jump in his energy level as an added bonus effect. Nice. He had wondered why this wonder weed wasn't exported but he was told that the big inter-galactic drug companies would get pissed cause their lab made crap would become obsolete and there goes the money. So what happened was a few local big dicks got huge kickbacks for making it a capital offense to sell any of the tronasian greenery offworld. That was fucked up but it made sense. It's all about the cash. The make horny shit was called lunge leaf, nobody knew why and nobody cared. But folks used it plenty.

Riddick and Banin threw down a few more slugs at the local watering hole before staggering down to the general store to pick up the slaves and stock up on supplies for the trip. Banin had made the trek before so he was put in charge...sorta. Riddick was going along as security. Banin assured him that the slaves would be no trouble. They had been well broken down at a sex slave training center. "They know their place," Banin smirked. Riddick wasn't so sure. Banin could be cocky, he would be cautious.

Momentarily Riddick's thoughts were on something else. Who knows, he wondered? There might be something vaguely interesting to do in Merryville. He had been there once before, the night he'd first arrived on Tronas. The fugitive had stowed away on a freighter. He'd slipped off the docked ship late at night and left the area in a hurry. Riddick didn't want to answer any questions from the local law and he damned sure wasn't totally sold on the stories circulating about Tronas being a no merc zone. He drifted to Venne where a few discreet questions gave him the answers he wanted. No fucking mercs. Ripped. Now he was thinking Merryville might be the place to hang for awhile. It was a good bit bigger than Venne and marginally more modern he'd been told. This time at least he would be able to look around some.

Banin said Merryville was an alright place by tronasian standards. They had several top notch whorehouses and even a new gambling establishment. Unfortunately he'd been involved in a brawl with some locals and now Riddick's co-worker was concerned about returning. It was decided that Riddick would deliver the slaves while Banin remained on the outskirts of town. Once the sales receipt was transferred from Riddick's hand to Banin's, our hero's work was done. He could take his time returning to Venne..if he did at all. All cash was transferred electronically of course, including Riddick's.

Riddick decided to check out the new sex slaves while Banin got some last second instructions from the owners. The first one that caught his begoggled eye was a tall blond with some nice big fat tits that swayed back and forth with every movement she made. She was pretty with blue eyes and long, toned legs. The ass wasn't half bad either, plenty wide the way it should be. Damn.

His eye moved on to a skinny little brunette with fashionably cut short hair, big dark eyes, and really full lips. Riddick felt a twinge in his groin. The brunette looked at him with those big soft eyes and smiled faintly. He liked that kind of mouth....a lot.

There were two other slaves. One was obviously a dyke. Her head was shaved and she sat glumly looking down at the ground. Not a happy camper Riddick figured. This one might be worth keeping an eye on. Not that he would have a hard time doing that cause she had a nice pair of full hanging tits also. There were some big ass protruding nipples on them babies too.

The last slave was a male about sixteen. He had been gelded, probably at the training center. Unlike the females who wore thongs, he was completely naked except for the slave collar around his neck and the light handcuffs on his wrists. All the collars were linked by a thin chain about four feet in length. It looked more decorative than restraining to Riddick. This was supposedly a real docile bunch so apparently no one felt the need for a heavier chain. Riddick wasn't quite so sure about that, they were his responsibility now, giving a whole new meaning to the term tagalong.

All the slaves were loaded down with supplies for the journey. Riddick and Banin walked over to a table where plenty of weapons were laid out. They'd been instructed to take whatever they needed. Banin picked out a rifle and a .38 revolver. Riddick found a .45 automatic that looked interesting. He checked it out thoroughly, loaded it, and stuck it in his belt. Then he examined a sawed-off double barreled 10 guage shotgun. Nice. It was equipped with a shoulder strap. Convenient. Riddick adjusted the strap before hoisting the weapon across his back. Banin found a large hunting knife, he grasped it, waved it around and grinned at Riddick. "Hey man, how do you like my toothpick?" The bald mercenary ignored him. Riddick didn't need a knife, he had his shiv. Two in fact, never leave home without 'em.

As the two hard looking off worlders stuffed their knapsacks with ammo and other items a small but curious crowd had gathered about. Riddick's super keen hearing picked out a kid asking his mom "mommy, what's up with the weird goggles that guy's wearing?" The fugitive turned and gave the kid a smile more menacing than friendly "I got sensitive eyes kid." The youngster cringed and moved closer to his mother who was obviously mesmerized by the hard muscled stranger. Meanwhile the father stood close by, glaring his disapproval. For whatever reason, Riddick always got people's attention. He shrugged and finished cramming ammo into his knapsack. He already had four grenades hidden in his clothes. They were Xanthanisan made, really small and easy to conceal but capable of kicking big ass. Riddick had been toting those even before he landed on Tronas, it was nice having some high explosives at his disposal. One never knew when some asshole might need to be blown to molecules. Anyhow that's how Riddick saw things, and that attitude had kept him alive. No reason to change he figured.

There was still several hours of daylight left, a last second inventory was done and finally the little party got underway. Banin led, knowing the way and all. He was followed by the male slave. Riddick brought up the rear and found himself sizing up the ass of the blond slave. She was last on the chaingang and the expressionless outlaw could see trouble already with this arrangement. "Damn," Riddick swore to himself. "How the fuck am I supposed to watch out for bandits when I got this fine fat ass up in my face all day long?" Fuck it, he reckoned that it would be best to just go with it for the time being. There likely wouldn't be any bandits anywhere near this close to town. He knew what it was like to have a price on your head. Number one rule, steer clear of people. For the present time Riddick decided to relax just a bit, enjoy the hike and the view. He was fucking glad he'd taken this job. Finally he had something to do, plenty of fresh air and exercise, and the pay wasn't half bad either. There was some lunge leaf growing alongside the little trail. Riddick tore off a good sized leaf and stuck it in his mouth. Tasty. The blond's ass cheeks trembled and jiggled with every step she took. Occasionally her breasts would flop sideways, giving her escort a glimpse of soft juicy titty flesh. Damn!

Riddick mumbled under his breath, "yep, this is gonna be one helluva interesting little walk." He chewed the lunge leaf and smiled....sorta.

Everybody was fresh and they made good time. The trail wasn't so rough at this point but it was always a little warm during daytime on Tronas. After about three hours of steady going Banin called for a water break. The slaves sat huddled together out of necessity. With only four foot of chain separating them there wasn't any other choice. Riddick sipped from his canteen and stared off into space wile wiping away sweat from his bald head. He appeared to be meditating but in actuality his musings centered on figuring a way to deal with the bulge growing in his pants. Fucking lunge leaf, gives you lots of energy but the hardon he didn't really need. Shit.

His deep train of thought was broken by giggles from the slavegirls. He glanced quickly around to see what was so funny, had the girls spotted his bulge, the fucking little whores.

Riddick was relieved to discover he wasn't the object of the snickers. The young boy sat with his legs spread wide. Despite the handcuffs he was busy trying to stroke his cock. His efforts hadn't produced more than a semi-erection at best. "Why don't you give it up Rarn," the lesbian chuckled. "You've been fixed, you dumbass, jack off all you want it won't get you anywhere. Your dick ain't gonna get hard and never will again." She was taking delight in torturing the boy, a male and therefore obviously an inferior.

"Shut the fuck up you stupid lesbian slut!" Rarn growled at Lissa, his tormenter. "Sometimes it does get hard, it really does. I'll show you bitch!" With that he returned to stroking his cock, only more strenuously.

Banin threw a rock and hit Rarn square in the head. "Stop that fucking shit you faggot, if you got that kind of energy git your ass up and get moving. We got a long fucking ways to go."

A dejected expression swept over Rarn's face as he struggled to get to his feet.

The little slave girl with the huge lips was called Jelli. She pretended to whisper in Lissa's ear but her words were plenty loud for everyone to hear. "What's the point of him always trying to get it hard when he dosen't have any cum to milk out of his cock?"

Rarn's eyes flashed with raw madness and he made a grab for Jelli's throat. Banin moved quick as a cat and kicked the boy hard in the stomach. Rarn fell sideways making the chain on his collar grow taunt. The other slaves struggled to remain upright despite the pressure on their necks. The boy groaned and choked, his breakfast came up hard.

Banin shook his head, a half-crazed expression on his young face, "When I tell you to chill out I mean it you stupid prick."

Riddick shrugged, Banin was an old hand at this stuff, maybe he knew what he was doing.....maybe. Banin stepped over to Lissa and slapped her hard with his open hand. "Nobody is gonna be stirrin' up shit around her except me...got it you fucking dyke?"

Riddick shot Banin a hard look but all he got in return was a sneer.

Lissa bowed her head and nodded but her eyes glowed red with fresh born hate. Riddick figured the slave training center hadn't quite gotten the job done with her. He had decided that Banin was an idiot who better be watching his ass at all times now. The bald fugitive was a pretty good judge of women's character and Lissa was gonna be after Banin's throat....maybe Riddick's too. Problem.

Everyone got to their feet and moved out. They had traveled a good ways from town and in a few minutes entered a deeply wooded area. The shade on the trail felt good. The pace quickened. The blond reached back to wipe some dirt off her big shapely ass. Absentmindedly she used a long, pink painted fingernail to scatch a bug bite right beside her rectum. Riddick could almost see the brown eyed hole as he stared intensely. The thong was little more than a string in that area. Sometimes the blond, named Giella, would stumble a bit causing her breasts to flop sideways giving Riddick a nice shot of the soft, abundant titty flesh. Sensing that she was being watched, Giella turned slightly and gave him a demur smile. Her eyes widened considerably when she glanced at his crotch. Thankfully she turned away wordlessly, grunting due to the tug on her collar as her companions moved ahead briskly. Dammit, Riddick felt the blood rush to his face. Got to do something about this fucking hardon. Fucking lunge leaf. His hand moved to his crotch briefly....DAMN!

Riddick trotted up beside Rarn. He reached into one of the bags the slave boy carried and pulled out a roll of shit paper. "Check it out Banin, I gotta take a crap. Go on, I'll catch up in a few."

"Make it quick dude," Banin replied with a displeased look on his face.

"Fuck you asshole," Riddick growled. "You want me to do it here so you can watch, is that it you sick fuck?"

Banin's features grew dark with rage. His hand moved to the hilt of the hunting knife in his belt. Something about the way Riddick just stood there with a total lack of expression unnerved Banin. Even freakier was the way the bald man seemed to literally be getting a hardon apparently due to the mere possibility of a fight. Maybe later, Banin promised himself before turning to lead the slaves onward.

Riddick waited until his companions had moved on before slipping off the trail and stepping behind some tall brush about thirty feet from where he'd confronted Banin. He made sure it was a spot well hidden from view just in case their little scout leader decided to come check on him for some bullshit reason. The strange eyes behind the goggles spotted some more lunge leaf. He broke off a nice sized leaf and popped it in his mouth. Why the fuck not?

He chewed on the plant for a couple of minutes before moving his hand down to his crotch.
Damn. He unzipped the cargo pants and a huge nine inch erection leaped out like a dog being let out of the house first time in a month. Riddick shook his head.

"Man, that's one bad mutherfucker right there."

Tenatively Riddick massaged his balls. They were swollen and throbbing. He leaned back against a tree and started to slowly work the rock hard shaft of his cock. "Oh yeah, you badass," he moaned under his breath. Damn! His shit felt fucking good. He thought about Giella and her fat ass cheeks. It was easy to re-visualize that quick glimpse he'd gotten of her sweet asshole. Shit. Instinctively his hips thrust forward in a hunching motion as he feverishly slid his hand up and down the long, aching man steel that protruded proudly from his pants. His mind's eye moved on to those wide round aerolas on Lissa's firm ass tits. He wondered if a lesbian could suck cock as good as she ate pussy. That thought only reminded him of Jelli's hot lips and how he wished he could pump his cock in her face until his bloated balls gushed into that sweet sensual mouth.

Riddick groaned, "Fuck, oh fuck!"

His hand continued to stroke his cock steadily, having acheived a nice rhythmn. Occasionally he paused to knead his eager balls. Suddenly he grunted and his breath became ragged. "Damn, I'm about to cum!" His powerful thighs trembled uncontrollably as electrified nerves anticipated a powerful release.

With a husky voice Riddick declared "BRING THAT HOT CUNT TO YA BIG POPPA BABY!" His entire body seemed to shudder as his stiff cock lost all control and jettisoned a long thick stream of white hot jism straight up toward the trees. The multiple white spurts contrasted beautifully with the bright blue sky as steaks of sunlight created glistening reflections from the beads of sweat on Riddick's face and head.

The man sighed deeply with relief as his lungs labored mightily to bring in more oxygen. The outlaw could only shake his head, that was one helluva nut. Damn, what a hardon!

Slowly, very slowly, Riddick's breath came to him more easily. He unzipped a pocket on his black cargo pants and yanked out a nice sized flask. He turned it up and took a nice long swallow. With a grimmace he mused for the hundredth time that trunk sure as hell tasted like pure shit. Yeah, but it's all good as the hot fire hit his throat. He had to admit trunk had one helluva kick. One good drink deserved another as Riddick waited for his prick to sag enough so he could safely re zip his pants. He was in the process of letting another fat stream of the stinging fluid pass through his lips when he heard something. What the fuck! It was a faint sound but years of being on the run had sharpened all of Riddick's senses. Yeah, there it was again and this time there was no mistaking the deep bass rumblings of voices, male voices.

Fuck! Riddick's mind raced. Something in his brain told him instinctively, TROUBLE!

It was time to put his cock away....for now.