*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?"
