The Bottom Tier: Ari and Cato

---

Three days passed, and Cato couldn't stop thinking of the little waif who had cowered away from him. Cato couldn't support him, not with luxury tokens and rations. However, Cato knew a man from the Bottom Tier who could. This man occasionally sold a mild hallucinogen brewed from mushrooms to the Regulators. It was too mild to be registered by the random drug sweeps, and it created a mild sensation of euphoria.

This man lived with his son, and apparently with another escaped slave from the Upper Tier. Maybe, he would take care of a third man, if the price was right.

Cato knew that there were hundreds of abused secondhand slaves in the brothels of the Middle Tier. He knew that there were hundreds more suffering from abuse and neglect in the Upper Tier, and thousands of whores being screwed over and abused and robbed in the Bottom Tier. He knew that Ari would only make the slightest difference, a single whore who got to live without the fear of being crippled and mutilated by sick customers. A single whore that got to eat a full meal, and maybe be able to make love without cringing from a potential blow.

But despite the tiny difference it would make in the scheme of things, Cato found himself fixated. He had made a promise. He intended to keep it.

---

Ari was sleeping. Curled on his side in a fetal position. Blood was crusted on the fresh wounds on his ribs. Ari wanted to die. His sleep was shallow and surreal and thick with uneasy nightmarish half-dreams. The supervisor had come in and given him his daily painkillers. They softened the pain, but not even the painkillers could completely mask the damage from some sick man who had sodomized him with his fist.

He couldn't sleep, the pain was so bad. He just drifted on the mild high from the painkillers, slow tears leaking from his eyes.

The supervisor came in and unlocked the shackle on Ari's swollen left heel. The supervisor was a big black man, and he had to carry the semiconscious whore out of the building. Ari moaned softly when the supervisor took off his collar. He felt naked without it.

The Middle Tier was small. The loud bright streets filled with hovercrafts and advertisements and sophisticated entertainment was above, a fraction of their light and warmth and affluence drifting down like flotsam on an ocean current. From below wafted the choking smoke of the factories, and far below the guardrails at the edge of the roads and platforms of the Middle Tier, if you squinted very closely, you could see dark figures scurrying around.

A snowflake fell on Ari's naked shoulder and melted. More fell on his tiny naked body. One landed on his cracked and swollen lips, and his tongue went out towards the tiny scrap of moisture.

Cato stood there, a blanket over one massive arm. The large young Regulator looked apprehensive. He had traded the nearly-worthless shivering whore for a golden watch. A scrap of archaic police tradition that had somehow survived the centuries.

Ari moaned weakly, but didn't awaken. His sleep was shallow and nightmarish, but he was too exhausted to wake. Cato wrapped his tiny shivering body in a blanket, and showed his Regulator license to the machine that operated the inter-Tier elevator.

---

Taylor and Radon and Kip had heard the strange business deal from a young Regulator, and it was a good deal. Three luxury tokens a month, in exchange for nursing a sick whore back to health. The luxury tokens would keep coming for every month they took care of him.

Luxury tokens were worth many times their weight in gold, at least in the Bottom Tier. They could be traded for any legitimate item in the Upper Tier. Not rags sewn by hand, or medicine ground from mould and mushrooms, or pots smelted from scrap metal, but real purchased goods. Each token was worth a small fortune. One token could buy three bushels of rice, or an hour with a high-quality whore, or twenty pounds of sugar, or even ten pounds of meat. Tokens could be spent on effective Upper Tier medicine if a loved one was sick, or an insulated parka for the cold winters, or a nasal air-filter to add ten years onto your life if you worked in the factories.

Tokens could be used in endless ways, from the surgery to get a woman's tubes tied, to accumulating enough to buy a Tier license. Regulators were given five a month, and they were mostly blown on whores and better food. For those in the Upper Tier, luxury tokens were just currency.

Taylor was still a little apprehensive, and he wouldn't have gone with the deal at all if not for Kip.

Kip was an attentive lover to both him and his son, and a huge help around the place. Also, Kip hadn't put much input into the decision, and when asked, he merely shrugged and said that it was his house and his decision. The one piece of real advice he had put in was this.

"I know that we can get by without the luxury tokens, but I was thinking more about that poor guy that the Regulator wants us to take care of. I don't remember much about the Upper Tier, I was just a kid. What I do remember is that we were going to be sold off when we were ten, and some of the ones who were older then us prayed so hard that they wouldn't be sold to a brothel. Some of them jumped out of windows, or hung themselves with ropes that they made from their smocks. Its bad enough in the brothels down here, but I've heard stories about how bad they are in the Middle."

Kip shrugged and tried to make light of his next statement. "That man that the Regulator wants us to take care of? It could have been me, if I hadn't gotten away from those guys who snatched me. Might of even been me if I hadn't been snatched. It's only a matter of time until the buyers in the Upper Tier get bored with a slave, and then the slave goes down, but not all the way."

That's what changed Taylor's mind.

---

All three were at the nook, waiting for Cato to get there. Kip had heated water and boiled rags for bandages. He had made a broth by chopping the mushrooms nearly to powder and adding chicken flavoring and a protein packet. He had thickened it and boiled it off until it nearly had the consistency of gravy.

Radon was in the second floor, watching out the window for Cato to come so he could disable the charge going through the electrified grate that protected their home. When the low hum ceased, both Taylor and Kip tensed. Taylor with anxiety and protectiveness of his home, Kip merely with readiness to tend to the wounded slave.

Cato came in with a blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms. Taylor gasped harshly with shock when Cato set the bundle down on the floor and unwrapped him. Kip moaned with pity.

Taylor had seen starvelings. He had seen men beaten to death, and he had seen whores. This poor thing was starved, severely beaten, and still filthy from the last time a man had used him. What made it worse was how small the wretched thing was. Men looked smaller when they were starved and cowed, but Ari had been tiny to begin with, only five feet tall.

He wasn't well made. Kip could see the underdeveloped calf and ankle muscles, and the tiny freakishly small feet. It looked like some sort of cruel purposeful mutilation, like foot binding. Ari moaned when the blanket was unwrapped and curled into a fetal position. His eyes were dazed, and an unnatural bright violet. A garish and unnecessary alteration, that often weakened eyesight. His legs were unnaturally splayed, and blood streaked and flecked the inner thighs.

Kip moved forward immediately and enfolded the starved and filthy little whore in his arms. They were about the same height and stature, but Kip was better fed, more muscular, and much healthier. Ari flinched, and then went limp in Kip's gentle arms, looking at Taylor with dull confusion and fear.

"He's bad, I know, here are the tokens." Ari turned at the sound of Cato's voice, and a weak unbelieving smile stretched those bruised and swollen lips. Beads of blood oozed from the deep cracks.

"You came back!" His voice was a thin hoarse warble.

He started to cry feebly, with a mixture of joy and pain. He clung to Kip and cried into the rough wool of the Ladyboy's sweater. He was hurting and scared, and nearly out of his mind, but on any other night, he would have been cringing on the hateful stained mattress. He had lain on that bed, shackled and helpless nearly every day for eight years. About a dozen days a year, holidays and days he had been too sick to work, he had just lain on the hateful bed, dozing and nursing his wounds. He had seen the sun only a handful of times in his entire life.

Even better, a man had kept his word. A man had promised to help him, and then actually done so. A man had proven to Ari that not all men were monsters.

He was in a new place. A better place. The slender Ladyboy, batch brother to Ari, gave him a draught of strong liquor fermented from mushrooms. It wasn't painkillers, but it took Ari out.

---

Kip was the main caretaker for that first week. Ari lapsed into a delirious fever, and they didn't have the high-quality Upper tier drugs that Ari usually used.

Kip was devoted and nurturing, he still kept Taylor and Radon happy at least once a day, but the rest of his time was for nurturing the sick babbling mutation. He tended to his exhausted little batch-brother tirelessly.

During a very gentle sponge bath, Ari woke up and spoke weakly to Kip. "I remember you... The thieves took you. The Keeper told us that if we were bad, then we would be taken like you were."

Kip smiled, and wiped Ari's bruised welted sides with the warm cloth. "I remember you. You were always sick, sometimes you couldn't eat, and you would give away a bit of your food. Sometimes, we would help you walk down the hallways."

Ari started to cry softly. "Thank you Kip. You are so lucky. You didn't... You didn't have to..."

Kip shushed him and gently cradled the weeping boy to his chest. Ari cried into Kip's soft breasts, and Kip could feel that the fever was down. He was able to get a bowl of broth into Ari's stomach and settle him down on the main bed.

Ari slept with the rest of them for warmth, but he cringed from any man that wasn't Kip. Radon and Taylor didn't mind. Little Ari was buying them untold luxuries, like alcohol, better weapons, spices, and meat. Ari had also bought them security. Taylor had stored money for the first time in his life, and it felt good.

Ari was a victim of chronic beatings and abuse. It was a full ten days before he was healed enough to crawl around the nook without pain, or tearing open his wounds. His feet were deformed and too small to bear his weight evenly, so he wrapped cloth around his knees and palms and crawled around his new home. By then, he was less afraid of Radon and Taylor, but still very shy.

He wanted to help, and he was able to assist around the home a little. He did chores, but was too weak to do anything for long before getting tired and hurting. He took frequent naps, and Kip encouraged him. He was getting stronger every day.

---

Cato was unable to visit for two weeks, and when he came down, he was astonished by the change.

The last time he had seen Ari, he had been nearly comatose. Drugged and bleeding and starved away. Barely conscious. He entered the nook and saw Ari sitting at a stool at the table. Ari's eyes were bright and clear, and he was spooning broth into his mouth with a small trembling hand. He was giggling at some joke the Ladyboy had made.

When Ari looked up and saw Cato in the doorway, there was no hesitation. He leapt out of his stool and took four limping steps towards the Regulator before dropping to his hands and knees to crawl. His face was twisted into an expression of pure devotion.

Cato stood there, still shocked by the change when Ari reached his feet, and 'climbed' up the large man's body, pulling his slender frame up by grabbing the folds in his pants and his belt and arms.

Ari clung to him, burying his face in the folds of his warm jacket and crying softly with joy.

"You came back!" The little blonde whispered, nuzzling into Cato's chest.

---

Cato could not stay for long. He became shy around the little teenager he had saved. Ari clung to him for the duration of his stay. Cato helped him to limp around and he paid the family their allotment of three tokens.

Taylor was tending to the shelves on the second floor, and Kip had gone up to the bed to make love with Radon. Ari and Cato were alone, sitting at the table.

Ari was huddled in his lap. The boy was very small and frail. He smelled like soap, and his little body was clean and slightly filled out, not the desperately emaciated and filthy little waif that he had brought to the nook in the first place. Cato rested his hands on Ari's tiny body through the fabric of his clothes.

Ari whimpered softly. The touch of the man he was devoted to felt gentle and tingling on his sensitive skin. Even through the fabric the touch was enough to make him feel warm and aroused. Cato's hands were so tender and light on his bruised body. Ari leaned on the Regulator's shoulder and kissed Cato's neck softly.

"Thank you Cato. You saved me." Ari's voice was still hoarse. Permanent damage from all of the perverted customers who had choked him over the years. "I think I was going crazy in there. I couldn't keep track of time, or if I was awake. Sometimes I started laughing and I couldn't stop. They hurt me so long."

"Please don't hurt me."

Ari started to cry softly. His body was the result of men who would exploit their creation. His entire life had been a long road of suffering and neglect. This had been the first time in his short miserable life when he had been able to eat and drink and sleep as much as he wanted to. He had met his first men that were not beasts. He wanted to thank his savior, even if it meant that Cato would have sex with him, and hurt him in the process.

Ari kissed Cato again and again, and one of his hands was undoing the buttons on the baggy earth-colored sweater that hung in huge folds on his skinny frame. Ari liked how warm it was. Cato's breath came in jagged pants as the trembling little whore took off the sweater.

Cato hesitated, looking at Ari's upper body. It had only been two weeks. Years of constant abuse could not be erased, or even well-faded in such a short period of time.

Those delicate, almost feminine shoulders were covered with thin white lines. Deeper pink crescents showed where the bestial Regulator had bitten the little whore deep enough that he needed stitches. The lumps of his spine showed in a delicate trail down to the ghostly near-invisible curve of his buttocks above the waistband of his pants. The little dimples above his buttocks were next to a round pink scar, where some animal had snubbed a live cigarette.

Above his buttocks, there were still deep rose-colored blotches. Ari still urinated traces of blood from the vicious attack on his kidneys. His keepers had debated on using one of the precious luxury tokens to risk a doctor, but the bleeding had lessened greatly since the beginning of his recovery. Cato traced the delicate wing-shapes of the boy's shoulder blades and Ari gave a soft whimper.

On the front it was even worse. Several severe bruises were partially healed, but still colorful. His nipples were surrounded by more of those deep pink half-moon bite marks. His ribs were still clearly defined, and in more then one place they showed the slightly jilted appearance of being broken and then jostled while they healed.

On his vulnerable flat stomach, another shiny pink burn.

Cato ran the backs of his fingers along the side of Ari's hip, where he had stroked two weeks ago. The bruising was still there, fainter and yellowy-grey, but still there. Ari shivered and Cato could read the mixture of gratitude and want and hurt and fear in those pretty purply eyes.

Cato trembled as he held Ari gently. His cock was raging hard. He was nearly always horny, several of the hormones he was on made him constantly near arousal. The hormones made many of the Regulators into beasts. Ari touched his big wrist with his tiny shaking little hand and led it to his pants. Cato moaned deep in his throat as he felt a hard little prong.

How on earth had this sweet little man not gone insane from the pain? From the misery?

Cato had a moment of indecision so powerful it nearly tore him apart, a moment trying to save himself from the horny and bestial part of his own nature, trying to overcome the twisted genetics that made him inhuman with his humanity.

Humanity won.

Ari looked up at him with confusion as he carefully lifted the little man up and into a new seat. His erection stuck out painfully. He picked up the sweater and carefully swaddled his ward in it. He enfolded Ari in his arms and let out a groan that was almost a sob. He smelled the sweet smell of cheap soap in Ari's silky hair.

"I want to Ari, I want to so much it hurts." His voice was trembling. "It's only been a few days. You're still beaten up, and probably torn up. Two weeks ago you were so badly hurt that you couldn't even get up to clean yourself. I can't do this now. It would hurt you too much."

Ari looked up at him, his violet eyes filled with tears. "I owe you my life Cato." Such a soft little rasp, his voice was like the lick of a cat's tongue. "Thank you. Th-Thank you so much."

Ari kissed his forehead softly. Taylor came down the stairs and he saw them like that. Cato was on his knees on the floor and hugging the skinny little boy in the chair, crying like a baby and burying his face into Ari's skinny chest in the baggy sweater. Ari was also crying and kissing the top of his head with his skinny arms wrapped around Cato's neck.

Taylor quietly snuck back up the steps.

---

Cato had to leave, but he promised that he would be back soon, to see how Ari was healing. The changes wrought in the small teenager were just short of miraculous.

Ari did his best to heal. He slept for long periods of time, and did light exercises with Radon's help. Radon had his own workout schedule, and he had enough know-how to bring Ari through a series of light stretches and squats that helped strengthen his scrawny body and helped him heal and become more limber.

Ari had agoraphobia, fear of open spaces. He had spent so long crammed in a tiny room, that any open space put him on edge. He didn't want to go outside, or to be in the large warehouse spaces that housed the mushroom farms. Even looking outside of windows made him afraid.

He tried to help as much as he could. They taught him how to tend to the mushrooms, and it wasn't an uncommon sight to see the frail boy crawling down the lines of shelves, studiously checking the mushrooms for any signs of rot, and cutting out ones that were diseased or dying.

Him and Kip became very close friends. Kip was happy, because Ari was the only person he cared about that he didn't have to sleep with. It was a novel experience for both of the young men.

---

For the first time in Ari's life, he was walking without pain. He was wobbling around the nook with a delighted look on his face and a death grip on an old-fashioned metal walker. The four legs of the walker consisted of two rubber wheels and two bases covered with tennis balls.

Cato had been behind the walker of course. It had appeared in front of the door one day, connected with a bit of wire to the electrified grate to discourage stealing. The note written one one of the tennis balls said, "Hope this helps, I look forward to seeing you back on your feet, Cato."

Regulators didn't have last names. The first names were still relatively new. Regulators used to be known by their district and serial number.

Ari was not able to walk for very long. The muscles in his calves were sorely underdeveloped and atrophied. His thigh muscles were strong from crawling, and of course his line of work. After walking though, he had an elated smile, and tears of joy streamed down his face.