The Bottom Tier

*Hi readers!

All characters are 18+ the part in the beginning is only a flashback.

This story is slightly confused, but I think it belongs in Gay Male because though my main Character, Kip, has some elements of the feminine persuasion, he still identifies as Male, and all of the sexual encounters in this story are basically gay encounters with some unusual petting.

WARNING this story involves emotional turmoil.

Enjoy!*

There were two levels of life in the year 2356, in the former capital cities. In one level you were wealthy and well off. Life was provided by high-paying jobs and low taxes. Life was one long game that you struggled to satisfy yourself with using sex or entertainment. The slave industry was alive and well, buying healthy eggs from the starving inhabitants of another life to clone new humans.

The bulk of these clones were soldiers and regulators. The regulators patrolled the safe, healthy world of the Upper Tier to protect the safe and happy people within it. These men (they were all men) were imbued with strong senses of loyalty and obedience and fierce protectiveness. They got many of these genes from a German Shepard.

The rest of these were all for sexual pleasure. Beautiful women and men with perfect bone structures and perfect bodies and flawless coordination were sold for incredible prices and the more you had, the higher your status was. Then they made the Ladyboys.

The Ladyboys were sad, frail children cobbled together from an unearthly beautiful combination of male and female. Some of the sweet little girls had penises and prostates, while some of the sad-eyed little boys had vaginas and clitorises. Most of the confused things had weird combinations of the two. Without exception the poor things were very beautiful and very small, and very easily hurt.

After the first 'batch' of fifty children were sold their popularity exploded. Thousands of pre-orders came in and the Generippers all smiled with ecstasy at all the money they would make. Batch after batch of underweight test-tube babies were 'born' in disposable polyurethane uteruses.

They grew up in short deprived childhoods where they were trained from an early age how to give pleasure to older men and women. At the tender age of three, they were given dozens of cruel, expensive shots that caused them unbearable agony, but made them immune to STD's. The trainers were cruel and depraved.

The other life was in the Bottom Tier, here, everyone was poor. Everyone worked in factories that supported the Upper Tier. The only way to get up was to get enough money to buy a Tier license and to get a job. There was little food, no health care, and heinous crime and prostitution.

The two worlds collided very suddenly on a beautiful October day. A very small, wounded Ladyboy was huddled into a ball on his thin foam pad. This Ladyboy had managed to steal a scrap of food from a clogged trash-chute and the poor thing had been viciously whipped with a thin bamboo cane. He was too weak and starved to do his regular training so he was huddled on his bed. A few hours before a janitor on his lunch break had come in and raped him and he was still weeping from the pain and shame of that episode.

Two hundred yards down and an entire universe away a gang of half-starved men and women readied Old World weapons such as bullet-firing pistols and hand grenades. They went over a shaky plan to run up into the Upper Tier, knock out the guards and steal as much medicine from the Generipper center as they could. This medicine could be sold for credit, or food in the Bottom Tier.

A huge explosion shook the building where a tiny, mostly male Ladyboy trembled with fear. When the rangy group of renegades from the Bottom Tier came in the Ladyboy cried and covered his eyes. A shiny SteelFiber collar was around his thin, vulnerable neck. The round silvery tag read, KIP. And below that, there was a bar code and a small round tracker.

Five lean desperate men and two lean desperate women burst through the door and they saw the pitiful beautiful boy naked and crying chained by one fragile ankle to a thin pallet.

Kip screamed weakly in fear as the men and women ran towards him. He was so small, and every single full-grown human had either hurt or neglected him. He cowered from the seven strangers silent and trembling. A small sensor on the collar flashed franticly in time with his heart.

A woman hesitated. "I think it's just a boy..."

"No way" a man growled. "Not if it has the damn collar on. It'll probably grow tits or something in a few years, but let's grab it, we could get enough off of that thing to turn us all into senators."

Five ran on to the next room but a man and a woman stayed to drag the Ladyboy out. Kip passed out from the terror and the pain of his bruised body being shaken and thrown around like a small dog's toy.

Kip woke up in the Bottom Tier. He was locked in a tiny cage. The heart-rate light pulsed slowly. The tiny space comforted him. He was so badly abused already that simple things like the collar, or small spaces, or being tied up made him feel better.

The light started pulsing faster when a door opened and a hand reached inside. Being in a small place wasn't the same thing as being cornered. No creature that flew, walked, swam, crawled, or oozed liked being trapped. Not even unnatural things like the Ladyboy.

He gave a high-pitched yelp as the hand grasped him by the collar and dragged him out. He was thrown down onto the floor and an Upper Tier man looked him over with bright eyes and frightening clutching hands. The lean men and women watched with a mixture of pity and disgust, but if the rich man bought the frail Ladyboy then they would have enough money to join the Upper Tier.

The Regulators burst into the old warehouse then. Somehow, the tiny Ladyboy managed to escape. He ran on legs that were weak from malnourishment and bruised from his last punishment. He managed to break the tracker on his collar with a rock and to disappear into the darkness of the Bottom Tier.

TEN YEARS LATER

Kip lived outside the wild part of the Bottom Tier. He lived in a place so picked over and inhospitable that no one in their right mind would live there. It was a collapsed elementary school. Only Kip, with his skinny lithe body and his tiny frame and his knowledge of the precarious rubble gave him a place to sleep. A pile of mangled steel desks held up the rubble in one small spot. A spot that was barely three feet wide and four feet long and two feet tall.

He had lined his secret place with scraps of cloth and bedding over the years, creating a tiny nest. He cowered in this nest now. He whimpered in his sleep and slept gingerly and lightly. Not for the first time, or the second time or by God not even the tenth time... Kip had been raped.

He had been digging for trash and he had mistaken their clumsy footsteps for some scavenger. They had stolen his clothes and his water bottle and a foil wrapper in his pocket that still had oily smears on it from a sandwich. They had stolen his worn SteelFiber collar that he still wore for comfort. Then all five of them had raped him.

He hurt. He hurt so badly. His entire body was bruised and sore and his ass was a quivering chasm of muscle that had been bleeding on and off for the last three days. He had eaten the last of his emergency rations about a day ago because he was too frightened to leave his safe place. The rations themselves had been pitiful, an energy bar and a handful of dried fruit.

Kip woke up from his nightmare with a frightened gasp. Kip was beautiful. Even starving and frightened and dirty, the Ladyboy was gorgeous. Kip was a little more than five feet tall. He was slim and flexible with a tiny waist and skinny legs. He had soft, full hips like a girl and small, firm breasts. Kip was a boy. He identified as one. He had a small penis and testicles and a prostate. He was a boy with breasts and an Adam's apple and soft androgynous features. His hair was shaved short to disguise his girlish looks a little but it only made him look younger and more vulnerable.

After calming down a little he put on his only clothing. He had a thin loose t-shirt and baggy ripped jeans. They were ripped at the bottom where Kip had tailored them to fit his short legs and they were ripped at the waist where someone had ripped them off to fuck him and they were ripped and bloody at the knees where he had fallen while being pursued. Ripping for fashion was something only done in the Upper Tier.

Kip had no shoes so he wrapped layers of dirty rags around his feet. The soles of his feet were callused and hard and black with dirt. Tears gathered in the corners of his large dark eyes. Kip was hungry and afraid of those men who had raped him. The trash was bare and picked over. Kip knew that the only way he would survive was to sell his body for food. He had done it before, but the selling of his body was never without fear and pain and attempts to enslave and hurt him.

It took Kip ten minutes to crawl out of the safe place. He was slow from the pain and he was painfully cautious. He shivered, feeling naked and sick without a collar. Once he got into the dark winding streets, Kip became a wraith, a shadow. He melted into the darkness against the walls.

He saw the first humans about a mile from the trading center. They were a skinny teenage girl and an exhausted man. They both limped and the man had a racking cough. Kip avoided them. They had blacklung from the factory smoke.

It became harder and harder to hide as the streets became well lit. Kip saw gang members leering at exhausted women and smoky-eyed prostitutes. He saw wary pimps keeping a close eye on their meager harems. He saw dozens of coughing factory workers.

Finally he was hiding in a notch in the old brick walls, wondering whom he would sell himself to. The safest were factory workers. They were poor, but one of Kip's few good memories was a thin, coughing man gently touching his body. The man had paid him with two protein packets and a drink of real milk. The factory workers were the safest because they hated the Upper Tier and wouldn't sell him out.

Then Kip saw a lean, healthy man with dark, intelligent eyes. The man was tall, and in his forties. He wore clothes that were dirty but well taken care of. An ancient machine gun was cradled to his chest and he seemed wary, like an intelligent dog guarding against predators. The man was guarding an ancient grocery cart, like the kind the Old World used when they could buy enough food to last one of them a week and one of the New World people for a month.

A woman went up to the lean man and bought something in a paper bag. Kip gasped when he saw her shoving small, flesh-colored things into her mouth. The man was selling food!

Kip made his decision and crept through the scant shadows that did not hide him. The small shadows only blurred his form and the man noticed him. Kip cringed as far back as he could as the man stared at him. There was no going back now.

"H-Hello." Kip stammered. "Would you like some c-company?"

The words were customary for a whore. They were bold, but the voice that spoke them was weak and shaky with fear. The man squinted at him.

"Come into the light, Boy." He growled. "I want to see what I'm buying."

Kip crept into the smoggy streetlights. The light slowly illuminated him and the man's eyes glittered on him. The light shone softly on a body that was achingly thin and covered by baggy clothes. His small firm breasts made soft bumps in the front of his shirt. His hips were sweet and girlish and his face had an attractive feminine cast. His thin arms were covered in rough goosebumps and he was shivering. His dark eyes were downcast, staring at the gravel.

The man's eyes softened slightly. "Hey, Sweetheart. How about you'n'me go into that little alley there. If you do me I'll give you two pounds of mushrooms. If you do me and that man over there, I'll give you five pounds."

Kip looked in the direction he was pointing and he saw a large younger man with broad shoulders and dark hair and the same features as the man.

"That's my son, Radon. What do you say?

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir."

---

Kip found the darkness of the alley comforting, even if it had no way out. The man's son, Radon, was guarding the entrance with another Old World relic in his hands. The machine gun looked heavy and deadly despite it's age. Kip was half-cowering into the shadows as he reached slowly for the hem of his shirt; steeling himself for an exercise in helplessness and pain.

"No." The man said softly, gently. "Not yet."

Kip gasped as the man took out a handful of dried mushrooms. His frail body leaned forward and his hands nervously clasped between his breasts. The man smiled and held a mushroom out. Instead of reaching for it, the boy leaned forward and nibbled it from his thick fingers, like a shy, abused animal.

"That's it pretty one, it's been hard hasn't it?" The Ladyboy nodded and nibbled the next mushroom from his hands. "My name is Taylor. And I promise that I wont hurt you. Neither of us will."

Hot tears studded Taylor's hand like pearls. "Th-Thank you Sir." The boy whispered. "My name is K-Kip."

Taylor was hard and eager. He liked the Ladyboy. The boy was sweet and obedient and grateful. He didn't have the hard, gritty exterior of most of the prostitutes that Taylor saw every day. He enjoyed the gentle, sexy sensation of the boy's chapped lips on his fingers.

Taylor ran his fingers across the soft fuzz of the boy's scalp and tilted up his head. "How about we start up now, pretty one."

Kip held still as Taylor reached for the hem of his baggy white shirt, and he held up his arms as Taylor pulled it over his shorn head. Kip did his best to show off his beautiful, bruised body. His skin was so pale it glowed in the faint streetlights. He had a tiny waist below pitiful jutting ribs. He had small, high breasts that gleamed faintly in the wan light. His nipples were hard from the cold and colored the palest pink.

Taylor licked his lips with a tongue that was suddenly dry. The boy's body was frail and poorly used. He could see the cruel crescent-shaped scars on his breasts where they had been bitten hard enough to draw blood. Ugly black bruises marred his tiny waist where someone had grabbed him roughly. He could see black marks on his slender neck where he had been choked. Despite all of the cruel marks and half-healed scars, Kip was beautiful.

Taylor gently cupped the sweet little breasts in his huge, callused hands. He fondled the chill-swollen nipples in sandpaper-rough fingers and watched the boy's face to see the reaction. Taylor smiled as he saw the skin across the high cheekbones flush a deep pink with arousal. Kip arched his head and his mouth opened and his eyes sparkled with pleasure as he let out a sweet moan.

Taylor played with his breasts until the boy was moaning over and over; his face red and hot. Then he opened his pants and took out a long thick cock.

"Oh!"

The Ladyboy's eyes rested on his cock and the boy fell gracefully to his knees. Taylor felt a rush of arousal at the feeling of control. The boy knelt between his slightly splayed legs and one small, cold hand caressed the throbbing side of his thick, seven-inch cock.

Kip looked up into his eyes, black into black, as his little tongue went out to catch a clear pearl of precome glittering at the slit of his cock. Taylor let out a strangled groan. The boy was so fucking sexy, and if he didn't start soon he would come right away. Taylor liked the idea of having the Ladyboy suck him off, but for five pounds of mushrooms he wanted to get his full worth.

"Get up." Taylor's voice was strained and hoarse with need. "C'mon, turn around and bend over... Lord that's nice."

Kip trembled fitfully. He had felt so good; the man had been so nice to him. Now he felt small and frightened as he turned around and braced his hands on the wall, spreading his legs in a wide stance.

Kip let out a small whimper of pleasure as Taylor ran his rough hands over Kip's sensitive nipples. Taylor took off the boy's jeans; sliding the baggy pants down to his ankles and running light hands over the boy's full, girlish hips. He stroked the firm buttocks and the tender cleft, and then he reached around and fondled his rock-hard penis and testes. Kip was not well-hung but the genitals were perfectly shaped and smooth, without a single hair.

Taylor spat generously into his hand and lubed his thick cock. He got himself slick and then he got his finger wet to stretch out the boy who had gone rigid and trembly under him.

The boy's head arched, his beautiful features crumpling with pain as he cried out. His body shook and cringed and Taylor could even feel the cute little penis in his hand go limp.

Taylor leapt back with a loud curse. "What the fuck!"

Kip's legs tangled in his jeans and he fell to the concrete with another yelp of pain. He cowered naked against the wall trying to cover his head with his arms.

"I'm s-sorry S-Sir!" He babbled through his frightened tears. "I'm s-so sorry. I can d-do it I p-promise, j-just please! Please let m-me have another chance. Please d-don't hurt me Sir."

Taylor watched, speechless, as the wounded and terrified boy cringed against the wall, crawling into a kneeling position and showing his pale ass with the blood dribbling from the bruised pucker and crying silently.

"Stop." Taylor said hollowly, pity wrenching him from the inside. "Please Kip, just stop, I ain't gonna hurtcha."

Radon was concerned. "What the hell's going on in there, Dad?"

"Shut up Radon, nothings wrong!" Taylor winced as the boy cowered at his outburst. "Hush up Sweetheart, I'm not gonna hurtcha. It's just, why didn't you tell me that you were hurt?"

The boy looked up and his eyes were swollen and red from crying and old bruises. "You wouldn't have bought me... and I was so hungry..."

Taylor sighed. "You might be right. Just hush up your crying and come here. Come here pretty one, I'll take care of you." Kip crawled between his legs and nervously covered his cock with small, sweet kisses. "That's it." Taylor groaned. "That is absolutely perfect pretty one, just keep doing that."

Kip wrapped his full, soft pink lips around Taylor's fat cock. He knelt between Taylor's legs and the man reassured him and played with his firm breasts. In a few minutes Taylor was leaning against the wall, swearing softly under his breath as the Ladyboy bobbed his shorn head up and down on his cock. Taylor could see that his small erection was back. It was stiff and dripping and no more then four inches long. Kip stroked it urgently as his flushed cheeks rippled from the cock pounding in and out of his mouth.

Taylor swore one more time as he spasmed. Kip moved back so three fat ropes of come splattered across his beautiful face. Kip sucked on his wilting penis gently and Taylor went down to his knees. Kip demurely lowered his head and hid his genitals with small hands.

"Move aside." Taylor murmured. "You're as hard as a rock and I think you deserve to come after that."

Kip looked up and his black eyes were startled and wide. He moved his hands away and gasped as Taylor wrapped his large hand around his streamlined cock. Taylor brought the tiny Ladyboy to climax, something that no one had ever done for him. His cries and whimpers were very soft. He couldn't make loud noises, they had been beaten out of him, and it was so unwise in this harsh lower world.

Taylor smiled as the Ladyboy arched with a tiny whimper, as he lunged his hand felt a spurt of feverishly hot come. The boy went limp against him for a few moments, panting like he had run for miles. His pale skin was rippled with goosebumps and the shadows were kind to his bony frame, lending a seductive curviness to his body that he lacked in his starved state.