Underground

Story Info
Naked Asian woman fights biker gang&explores world below.
4.3k words
21.5k
6
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

The journey to Zander was hot and humid.

The dry, brittle dirt path was warm under Leslie Chang's bare feet as she continued walking under the scorching sun. She glanced up at it briefly in the clear blue skies, its glaring rays beating down on her. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath, taking off her glasses and mopping the sweat off her face and neck with a towel.

She was a tall Asian woman with a thick, muscular build, having recently entered her thirty-first year of life. Standing completely naked on the trail, she looked down at her arms and legs. Her naturally light brown complexion had gotten even darker due to the fierce sun. She had large, swinging breasts and big black nipples the size of plums. Her vagina was covered by a hairy mass of dark hair.

After putting her glasses back on, she drank some water from her bottle and then placed it back in her backpack.

Taking a sigh, Leslie resumed her trek through the forest.

She encountered other nude humans and creatures on the trail, some friendly, some downright nasty. The latter came in the form of a motorcycle gang of young men wearing Viking helmets and Nazi regalia. They tried to rob her and sexually harassed her, but she single-handedly fought and beat all six of the vicious punks with her combination of martial arts moves and wrestling. They rode off bleeding, suffering numerous broken bones.

The leader, a skinny man with a Hitler mustache and haircut, said through bruised, bleeding lips, "You won this time, Lady, but there's gonna be a rematch. You can count on it."

She looked him straight in the eye. "Looking forward to it," she replied firmly.

Later, she met a pleasant old man on the dirt path who told her she was getting close.

Leslie arrived in Zander momentarily. It was a small town comprised of primitive stone buildings and huts. The inhabitants, like her, were also mostly naked. In the town plaza, a farmer's market was held, where merchants not only sold produce and fruit, but other goods. She threaded her way through the busy, crowded area, tempted to stop at the many colorful stalls and tables but knew she had no time.

She headed straight to a local tavern. Inside, she pushed her glasses up her nose, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. The place was half full, with alien creatures and humans scattered at different booths. As she approached the counter, she noticed a couple of insect-like aliens giving her hostile stares with their big bug eyes.

The bartender gave her a friendly smile. "What can I get for you, Miss?" he asked.

She returned the grin. "I'm supposed to meet someone here named Tharus. Do you know him?"

He nodded, gesturing his head towards the end of the bar where a short, slender black man with wings stood. Leslie thanked him, walking past the glaring insect creatures without turning her head. The first thing she noticed about Tharus, besides the fact that he was cute and naked, was his huge, long dick. For such a tiny guy, he sure had a big one!

She introduced herself. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," he replied, shaking her hand. "Want a drink?"

"Sure."

They grabbed a booth in the back. "So, you're my guide to Galen," she said, taking a swig from her goblet. She made a face. Jeez, this stuff is strong! Wonder if it's spiked?

"Yep. May I ask why you're after Harion?"

She looked silently down into her goblet for a moment. "He killed my boyfriend."

"Sorry to hear that."

She continued looking into the goblet. "He's an animal and I'm going to get my revenge," she said firmly.

"I'd be careful if I were you."

She looked at him. "What do you know about him?"

Tharus looked furtively around them before saying, "He's a killing machine. He murders innocent people for no reason. Has killed numerous women and children, and has the whole town frightened. He kills for the fun of it, kills out of boredom." He took a drink. "And he's never lost a fight."

"Go on."

"The authorities caught him once and threw him in the pit."

"What's that?" she asked, trying to ignore a loud brawl near the counter. The insect creatures were throwing jabs at a poor human. She thought about intervening but moments later a bunch of uniformed men broke it up.

"It's an underground chamber the law owns where they have prisoners fight each other to the death. When a prisoner wins a certain number of matches, he's set free."

"How barbaric."

"Exactly. Harion always walks out of the pit alive, sometimes with the severed head or limb of his opponent in his hand."

She shivered in disgust. "Does he fight women?"

Tharus finished his drink. "Oh, yeah. He doesn't discriminate at all. So watch your back."

"You have beautiful wings," she said, touching his large, feathery wings admiringly.

"Thanks. It always seems to turn the ladies on," Tharus said, smiling flirtatiously.

She beamed back at him. "I'd like to be reincarnated into a bird 'cause I always thought it would be a cool thing to fly."

They walked barefoot across the town's sandy plaza. The sun was slowly starting to set in the purplish-orange horizon, and the vendors in the marketplace were packing up their merchandise.

He nodded. "Yes, the views from up there are simply breathtaking. The mountains, the valleys, the seas, the towns. I can see it all. My friends are very jealous of me," he said, chuckling.

"I'll bet."

He looked at her. "Ready to go?"

"Sure."

"Then grab a hold of me tight and we'll be off."

Leslie's jaw dropped open. "You're joking, right?"

"No, I'm not," he replied seriously.

"I'm not exactly petite, as you can see," she said, towering over him.

"I know I'm thin as stick, but trust me, I'm very strong. I've carried cows, horses, and big people like you. Believe me, Leslie, and don't be afraid."

She continued staring at him in disbelief for a brief moment, then slung her backpack on, and wrapped her muscular arms around him tightly. Her big, sweaty breasts and nipples were pressed hard against his skinny, rib-caged chest. She felt his giant cock rub gently against her left thigh.

"Don't get any ideas," she said, smiling slyly.

They flew over enormous mountains and lakes on the way to Galen. There was still light in the skies as she turned her head to look down. Farms and trees looked like tiny specks below them. She immediately regretted the action and pressed her face against his chest, holding for her dear life. God, I can't believe I'm going this!! she thought.

For the duration of the trip, she never looked down again. When they landed safely in Galen, she sat down on a park bench and took a few deep breaths, her head hung low.

He sat next to her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded slowly. "As you can see, I'm terrified of heights."

"You should have told me before."

She looked up and scanned the environment. Galen was a city as opposed to a town, with high, modern skyscrapers and buildings. Spaceships hovered above them in the skies, while down on the asphalt streets, futuristic-looking cars and trucks maneuvered their way across town. Some of the vehicles looked similar to the ones she drove as a cop in New Oakland, which seemed like a lifetime ago.

Humans and other creatures entered the city park where they were sitting, and she observed that some of them had clothes on and some didn't. It seemed nudity was slightly more unfashionable here. It was still hot and humid, and she was grateful that she didn't have to wear a tight business suit or a coat.

"Where do we go now?" she asked, avoiding the eyes of strangers.

"Let's get a room for the night and rest up."

They checked in at a small, inconspicuous motel in the downtown area. She took a long, cool shower while Tharus kept watch near the window, looking out occasionally to make sure they weren't followed. The nighttime skies outside were clear and starry.

She saw the serious look on his dark face when she walked out of the bathroom, drying her black shoulder length hair with a towel. "Everything okay?" she asked quietly.

He turned from the window. "Yeah." He closed the blinds, then went to the bathroom to wash up himself.

"You think Harion or his men tailed us?"

"I don't think so. I've been tracking our movements carefully and that doesn't seem to be the case."

She threw the towel aside and sat down on one of the beds, sighing. "I'm beat," she said, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she studied his wings in admiration again. As he sat on his bed, she approached him slowly, running her fingers gently through his large, feathery wings. He smiled at her flirtatiously, fluttering the wings slowly as she continued caressing and stroking them. She plucked a brown feather from one of his wings and stuck it in her hair, returning a mischievous grin.

In the morning, Tharus flew them to a tattoo shop near the waterfront. The place was empty except for a naked human with a purple Mohawk, who was inking the tattoo of a gun on the skinny bicep of a man reclined back in a chair. On the man's forearm was a tattoo of a swastika that looked awfully familiar to Leslie. She stepped closer to the chair and saw that it was young leader of the motorcycle gang she had fought earlier. Who could forget that Hitler-style haircut and mustache?

The leader smirked at her. "Ahh, we meet again, Muscle Chick," he said sarcastically. He sat up in the chair when Mohawk was done. The leader was nude except for a black leather vest and black motorcycle boots. He was gaunt and pale, but had a thick, long penis.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't Hitler's clone," she replied, returning the sarcasm. "I see your lips have healed a little."

"Don't forget that we've got a rematch comin,'" he said, the smirk still on his face.

"Oh, I haven't forgotten."

The leader looked at Tharus and asked, "Who's the nigger?"

Tharus lunged at him, but Leslie pulled him back.

"Whoa, easy, boy!" the leader laughed.

"My name's Tharus!" he shouted in his face.

"Okay, okay, take it easy, will ya?"

The leader got up, dropped some bills on the counter, and headed for the door. Before he left, he turned and blew her a kiss.

They approached Mohawk at the counter. "Friend of yours?" Leslie asked him, hearing the leader's motorcycle roar to life on the street outside. The loud engine vibrated the windows and floor of the shop, and she wondered if the glass would shatter. Soon, the chopper sped off but could still be heard in the distance.

Mohawk rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Sorry about that, Tharus," he said.

"No sweat, Johnny," Tharus replied. He made introductions between Johnny and Leslie. "So, what's the word on Harion?"

"Well, from what I've heard on the streets, he's in town, man."

"Where?" she asked.

"Holed down in the abandoned subway tunnels."

"Near the stadium?"

Mohawk nodded.

"Thanks a lot," Tharus said, and they left.

Tharus flew them above the giant sports stadium, and finally landed them at the derelict train station when she started hyperventilating again.

"You okay?" he asked her.

She nodded, taking some deep breaths. They walked along the eerily quiet platform, passing a series of empty, deteriorated trains. She looked inside one of them, seeing a human skeleton.

"So you're doing to kill him when we finally find him?" he asked.

"Yep."

"No questions asked. Just bam, strangle him to death with your bare hands."

"Actually, I'm going do it with a knife in my backpack," she said with conviction and determination her voice. "I want him to bleed to death, or better yet, choke on his own blood."

"How did he do it? How did he murder your boyfriend?" he asked, looking at her.

She suddenly stopped in her tracks, the cold, grimy concrete of the platform beneath her bare feet. He expected her to slap him or perhaps scream at him angrily, but she simply cleared her throat, not looking at him. "He was stabbed to death numerous times," she said quietly. "Killed for no reason whatsoever. I suppose that's another reason why I want to use a knife on Harion, 'cause he used it on Nean."

He nodded understandingly.

"Harion had come to our farm in the woods," she said, staring ahead into space with glassy eyes. "Nean was making spears and clubs in the tool shed, I was at the outdoor grill, roasting a boar. Moments later, I heard a scuffle, and ran towards the shed. . .but I was too late. . .Harion had already killed him." She shook her head. "It's too bad Nean couldn't reach for one of his spears in time."

"What happened then?"

Her gaze into space remained unbroken, her hands curled into tight fists. "I chased after Harion but he got away."

They continued walking along the platform for several more seconds before going down some stairs to the second level of the station. It was dark underground, with white light filtering through sporadic cracks in the ceiling. Leslie took out a flashlight from her backpack, turned it on, and guided them through the cool, musty tunnel. As they walked further in the darkness, her bare foot landed on something soft, warm, and squishy. Oh, God!! she thought. She didn't want to think about what it was, although she had a pretty good idea of what it might be. She came across some old newspapers and wiped her foot clean of the purple-colored substance.

After pushing her glasses up her nose, she pointed the beam of light at a few more human skeletons, as well as the stinking, rotting carcass of some creature. Large rats ripped off chunks of its flesh hungrily. Leslie and Tharus quickly walked away.


The rest of the second level was empty, so they continued down the stairs to the third one where they discovered more derelict trains.

"I hear there are numerous subway levels below the earth, extending for miles," he said. "Consisting of hundreds of subterranean tunnels and passageways, even cities."

"What aren't they in use anymore?"

"After the big war, they built a more reliable, faster rail system above ground." He gestured to their surroundings, shaking his head. "Such a waste, though. Now the homeless, criminals, and rats call this their home."

Cobwebs and dust festooned the interior of one train. She pointed her flashlight beam at spray-painted graffiti on the walls and at a vandalized snack machine, moldy candy bars still intact behind the shattered glass. She shined the light inside the empty station agent's booth, where a yellowed, curled newspaper lied on a desk.

Tharus picked up some faded tickets near a machine, studying them curiously under a beam of light that filtered through a crack in the ceiling. He tossed the tickets on the ground and said, "C'mon, let's keep moving."

The sound of slowly dripping water greeted them when they descended to the sixth level. They found nothing significant on the fourth and fifth ones. When she entered the women's restroom, she discovered the source of the noise. Single drops of water continuously fell from a hole in the ceiling to a toilet bowl.

She sniffed the air, noticing the strong smell of urine. "Someone's been here recently." She went to a sink and turned on the water, surprised it still worked. After splashing her face with some water, they resumed their search.

A cool draft came from one of the tunnels, blowing back her dark shoulder length hair.

"That feels so good," she said, going down a ladder from the platform to the tracks.

He followed her into the darkness of the tunnel, feeling the draft grow stronger.

She sniffed the air again, smelling urine once more. They tried to pursue the origin of the odor, her light showing fresh traces of a yellowish liquid on the concrete near the tracks. The urine became more intermittent as they advanced forward, and finally ended near a ladder. They descended to the seventh level.

To their left were subway tracks that led into a black abyss. To the right was another tunnel, not for trains but more around the size of a hallway in a building.

"Wanna flip a coin?" Leslie asked jokingly.

He pointed to the tunnel and she shrugged, leading the way. "I hope you remember the way back to the surface," she said.

"I hope your flashlight doesn't die on us," he replied anxiously.

They followed the yellowish light to a three-way fork. Three more dark and ominous tunnels. This time the decision was easier as they took the passageway on the far right because it emitted the stench of urine. Her nose wrinkled as they pressed forward.

Suddenly, the loud, vibrating roar of a motorcycle engine sparked to life, echoing wildly in the tunnel. She felt the ground pulsating beneath her feet and said, "Oh, no! Not again."

The noise was coming from all around them, disorienting them. Then, without warning, the chopper's light flicked on, and they saw it rumbling towards them. Two other motorcycles followed, amplifying the sound level to an all-time deafening high.

They covered their ears with their hands but it was useless. Seconds later, the first motorcycle screeched to a stop before them, and sitting behind the handlebars was the leader with the Hitler haircut and mustache.

A wide smirk was on his face.

* * *

"Well, if it ain't the Muscle Chick," the leader said sarcastically. "Care for a ride on my back?"

She and Tharus started running in the other direction, and the choppers chased after them. The leader aimed a gun at them and shot out a large net that covered them completely. Leslie and Tharus wildly tried to claw and kick their way out but it was futile. The leader and his men approached them with clubs, pounding them both on the back of the head.

Leslie felt everything go to black and collapsed face down on the ground.

She woke up with a huge headache later, finding herself lying on a bed covered with a bear fur blanket. The windowless room she was in was enclosed by four concrete walls, reminding her of a prison cell. A single metal door was across the room. Her wrists were tied behind her back, and her ankles bound together with rope.

Whenever she turned her head or tried to sit up, everything swirled fuzzily around her. She was surprised her glasses were still perched over her nose, free of damage. How long have I been out? Where's Tharus? She pushed herself to sit up despite the fact that the swirling motion made her headache worse and made her want to puke.

Her big bare feet touched the cold concrete, and when she attempted to get up she felt like her brain was going to literally explode. After a few tries, she stood up slowly.

Abruptly, the metal door swung open and the leader and the man that she was going to kill, stepped in. Harion was taller than the leader, and looked like he had been chiseled from stone. He had a shaved head and was naked as well, his enormous dick just inches away from her vagina. His steel blue eyes stared lustfully at her genitals and large brown breasts. He stuck his tongue out at her lecherously and licked her black, plum-sized nipples with it. She closed her eyes painfully. He stepped out of the way to let the leader suck her nipples for a while. Before he pulled his mouth away, he bit one of her nipples and she screamed. The leader laughed devilishly.

"So we meet again," Harion said simply.

"Where's Tharus?" she demanded.

"Where he can't bother us," he replied with a chuckle.

The leader laughed again.

"I should've finished you the same day I killed your Neanderthal boyfriend. But that would've been a waste 'cause we wouldn't have the privacy that we have now," he said, smiling slyly.

The leader gave her a lewd smirk.

12