Date: Wed, 31 Jan 2018 15:56:51 +0000 (UTC) From: Abra Cadabra Subject: Trash Punk Frontier Part 3 *** 3. Deep Penetration *** The "frontier" had a base of operations in the form of a tunnel-and-bunker network inside Far Summit – Deep Penetration Stronghold. In a room full of mattresses inside Deep Penetration, Asscunt and Bucket play-wrestled with punks from a different unit when Tyrant approached. "Yo boys, get up." Asscunt put his cards down. "New mission?" "Not yet, but the kid from cryo-stasis is back. Apparently Big Daddy knew how to fix the virus thing." "Wow, that's fucking cool. Wasn't expecting him to come back. Is he going to join the frontier?" "Dunno yet. Let's talk to him." The trio made their way to the next computer terminal. The punk leader touched the screen. "Yo BossMan, I need to know someone's location." A deep male voice with only a slight hint of being robotic responded from the screen. [Specify the target.] "There's a boy comin' in today, from Big Daddy. Was frozen." [He is arriving today,] BossMan said, [but the information of his whereabouts is not public.] "Oh come on." [No data access.] "Gotcha. Fuck." "Yo, Tyrant!" said someone from behind. It was a clone thug, slimmer than 69. He also had a hot pink mohawk with the thong to match, but had the number 18 next to his rocket emblem tattoos. He carried a tablet. "What up, 18?" The officer waved them over. "BossMan told me to welcome Crisis. You're looking for him?" "His name's Crisis now?" Tyrant said. "Yeah. We're the ones who found him." The clone thug shrugged. "Dunno if he picked the name or they picked it for him. Just wait in the cafeteria, I'll bring him right there." *** At the west gate of Deep Penetration, the train had already pulled into station and cargo was being unloaded. The clone thug watched commuters pass the turnstile. Crisis was hard to recognize, but he was the last to approach the passage. He was fully bald now, having not a single hair anywhere on his body. His possessions consisted of a small backpack, flip flops and a camo thong. The boy from the past walked up to the scanner line on the ground and spread his legs. He pulled away his thong in the most hesitant and awkward manner before squatting over the line like the commuters before him. The scanner checked the barcode on his taint – only visible in UV light – and let him through. "Yo!" said 18. "Um... hi?" The pink haired man stepped forward with a nod. "Welcome Crisis. I'm clone thug #18." "I... see," Crisis said with a glance at the tattoos. "You're here to show me around?" "Exactly. Let's grab a bite and you can reunite with the guys who saved you." *** The cafeteria had tables and benches but no serving counter. Instead food was distributed by vending machines. Everything seemed to be a different flavor of protein X with no real alternatives. "Is the food this way because this is a military installation?" Crisis asked. 18 squinted. "What do you mean? The frontier outposts are inhabited by civilians, too. You can get other rations from the machine over there. Fruit bars, beef bars. What do you want?" "Well, this is just..." Crisis took a bite from his protein X bar. It was delicious. "Okay, never mind. I can eat this for a while." Three other people were waiting for him. Their mohawks were blue spikes, braided amber and shaggy purple. Oh right, his "saviors". He sat down with them, and the clone officer joined, too. The purple haired one spoke first. "Yo, Crisis. Cool fuckin' name." "Thanks... uh you." "I'm Asscunt. I'm almost 17 and work as a trash punk." Crisis chuckled. "Hi... I mean, *yo*. Also, that's... quite a name you got there, too." "Thanks. My birth letter was J and I took a really long time to figure out a name I wanted. Long enough to train my ass into a real fucking perky shape. I think it fits me." "Yeah... I'm sure." "These are Bucket and Tyrant, our unit leader." "Yo... Bucket? That's also a cool name... I guess." The guy named Bucket smiled. "I don't drink much piss these days, but there was a time when I couldn't get enough." "Uh... right. This is all kinda new to me," Crisis said and ate the last bite of his protein X. Looked like everyone else was eating the same. The guy named Tyrant leaned in. "You gonna join the frontier?" "The what?" "Um..." 18 shoved his tablet into the middle and said, "BossMan, could you explain it to Crisis?" The device spoke. [The frontier is a simple concept.] A map with a red line showed up on screen as BossMan continued. [Anyone who doesn't like to live under the rule of NewLaw only has to move away from its borders. Therefore gangs, raiders and settlements established themselves outside NewLaw's territory, like east of Far Summit Mountain.] "Okay...?" [Eventually, those settlements grow enough to become interesting to NewLaw and they were brought into the fold. Thus civilization expands its influence.] "What would I do if I join, though?" [Facilitating communication between civilization and the wilderness, as well as dealing with gangs who don't want to join, is the job of trash punks. These largely independent groups of boys earn money by bringing news in and materials out.] Crisis still had one question. "All right... and who are you? An AI in the tablet?" [I am BossMan, Biometrics Oriented Service System MANager. I run the stronghold.] 18 took the tablet back. "It's a lot to take in, I'm sure. For now, just know your role here. Anyone looking like me is a clone thug. Anyone wearing a black thong with the frontier logo is a stronghold officer. Don't get in their way." "Okay." "Anyone with a frontier-logo thong *and* a tight metal collar around the neck is a stronghold slave." "Wait, I've seen men with collars like that. What does it mean when they have a long number on their forehead?" "Those are prisoners, owned by NewLaw. Slaves without a serial number are owned by individuals and mostly were enslaved because they chose slavery when they couldn't pay a dept. "So, if I commit a crime..." "You'll get a number and a collar. And an unremovable chastity cage like all slaves." "Fuck. I'll be good." "So..." Tyrant said. "Wanna be a trash punk?" *** There was a lot more to get used to. Before bed time, Crisis had asked for the showers and only been met with confusion. They had thought he was describing an unusually boring bath house. As it turned out, hygiene consisted of a twenty second rinse-down from a spray can. On the skin, the weird gel made all dirt slip right off, but it also worked on teeth and hair. The boy from the past would have liked to familiarize himself with the technology but Asscunt simply sprayed all over him, then pulled his thong away and even sprayed along his ass crack. Crisis hadn't expected to get his own room, since this was a military settlement of sorts, but there weren't even beds. Bucket showed him a room stuffed with soft mattresses. There were blankets and pillows but most of the dozen teens in the room just laid down – sometimes on each other – and slept in their day clothes. "Just so you know," Tyrant said. "No fuckin' in the dorm durin' the night. People are tryin' to sleep here." "O-okay? Sure." Crisis laid down and Asscunt pressed himself against him as the little spoon. While trying to calm his mind in near total darkness, the thick ass of his new friend pressed onto his crotch and Crisis got a boner. "Wanna sneak out?" Asscunt whispered. "I didn't see you get off all day." "N-no, I'm fine." "Kay, let's stay here. No one'll mind if we fuck really, really quiet." "No!" Crisis said and pushed himself away, only to end up pressing his own ass into Tyrant's semi hard dick. The leader was already asleep, seconds after lights out. How could the tall guy even be hard again? Crisis had watched him drag at least two boys and a clone thug into various nooks. He had to have shot three loads since lunch. What a strange world. At least the food was good. Did Crisis want to be a trash punk? He'd have to ask how the day to day life of a punk played out. Hopefully, there wasn't a lot of gay sex. Even if he was getting kind of horny, he'd certainly not be struck with curiosity about boy-on-boy anal all of the sudden. He'd just find a quiet spot to jerk off tomorrow and leave it at that. And if there were no quiet spots in Deep Penetration? Well, how bad could his horniness possibly get around all these constantly fucking men? *** Two weeks later: In a practiced motion, Crisis pulled his camo thong aside and dropped his ass to let the taint scanner read his barcode. Now he was logged out of Deep Penetration. He hopped onto the back of the bike and held tightly onto Asscunt's lithe waist. He had to admit, Asscunt's butt was spectacularly bouncy. At least, Crisis had found it surprisingly fun to fuck when he had finally given it a try last night. Boys helping each other get off was totally fine after all, right? With Tyrant and Bucket on a second hover bike, the four-boy-unit drove off, hovering over tall grass toward Root Cage. Crisis finally got his first real, exciting mission – a kidnapping. *** Note: Introducing Crisis took a whole chapter, but I hope you'll find him worth your while. Freaky things are ahead. Chapter 4: Jinxed