Punk’s Undead

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“Shit!” Vivian’s bloody hand slipped for the third time on the platform edge. Not her blood, thankfully. Micky’s. She glanced back at the swaying figures in the gloom. “Double shit!”She tried again with a run-up, bruising her ribs but succeeding in heaving herself into the abandoned Tube station. Ignoring the stabbing pain developing in her side, she rolled to her feet, thankful she had kept her boots on rather than crotchless fishnet tights alone. Not daring to look back again, she sprinted for the stairs, climbing them three at a time and swinging herself round the corner at the top, stumbling as she arrived at the old storage room her off-grid friend, Sebastian, had been using as a base.The door hung ajar, the thick Scottish accent of a century-old punk record yelling about a “barmy army”, but no living voices. Cautiously, she looked inside. No sign of her two friends, but to her relief, the next room remained shut. Beside it, Seb’s gear had been knocked off the table, and small yellow discs of B182 lay scattered, some crushed underfoot. Taking Micky’s black trench coat to cover herself, she followed the footprints of the powdered drug to the stairs leading to the street.Accelerating on hearing voices ahead, she slowed when she realised they did not belong to her friends and stopped at a bend in the stairs, watching the shadows on the wall. Felyx’s cat ears identified their silhouette, and Sebastian’s distinctive beard gave him away, but there was also no mistaking the three armed police.“What are you two perverts doing down here, eh?” One of the cops kicked the backs of her friends’ legs, making them kneel. “The whole Tube has been off-limits since the Outbreak, no excuses.”“Sarge!” a different cop called before either could answer. “This freak doesn’t have an Interface!”“Seriously? Let’s fix that. If you’re not Connected, you don’t exist.”Vivian stifled her scream as the gunshot rang out and Seb’s silhouette collapsed. Using Felyx’s anguished cries as cover, she escaped back the way she had come and hoped the second shot was a coup de grace, not another execution.“Fuck!” she whispered, back at the hideout. Then groans echoed from the direction of the platform. “Double fuck!”With nowhere else to go, she shut the steel door, locked it, and threw all three bolts, trying to calm her rising panic.“What was your escape plan? You always have an escape plan. That’s how you’ve survived.”Only he hadn’t, this time.She scanned the room. The record player, just crackling now that the album had finished. The empty beer bottles. The mattress with drying patches of come on the rumpled sheets. And the little yellow discs on the floor.“No.”She stared from them to the door opposite and swallowed. That room had no exit, either.“Your plan sucks, Seb.”~oOo~28 hours earlierThe free half of Vivian’s brain skipped from hidden chatroom to hidden chatroom, scanning them for some clue of Eve’s existence. So much time had elapsed since that fateful night that she knew the search was futile, but it had become an addiction.Green flashed to indicate a new message, interrupting her downward spiral of despair.She switched the controllable part of her consciousness back to the physical world to observe the Hub Facilitator through half-closed eyelids. Middle-aged and male, unsurprisingly, but so far not as attentive as others, and he’d yet to clock that her modded Interface supplied less than half her true brain capacity to the Mindchain. Technically, that in itself wasn’t illegal — like all free citizens, she could choose how much Dikmen Escort she sold to the Network, but the Network itself took a dim view of withholding, and an even dimmer one of piggybacking on your Hub connection for personal use.Slowly, to avoid triggering any alarms with sudden spikes of unauthorised brain activity, she assessed her fellow “independent contractors”. From the looks of things, this dingy, rundown backstreet Hub was a last resort for the desperate. No one else here was a Modder, just those unable to afford an upgrade to their Interface and so condemned to places like this rather than the sanitised places uptown. No flashily dressed crypto-bros either, though. Vivian would take a bit of mould over listening to another prick bragging about how he’d set up a biocrypto-mine in his pancreas any day.At least no one here was delusional. The truth was, if your family didn’t own the right shares in 2045, you were damned, even before the Outbreak. Total automation rendered labour-time worthless, leaving most with no option but to hire out the one thing silicon had yet to improve upon — organic brain power. The Horde laying siege to the surviving cities ensured that that remained a rare commodity.Convinced the Facilitator had no interest in her, she passed the key to decrypt the message. It was from Felyx.S is back. Sebastian. The mad bastard had never had an Interface fitted. As if that wasn’t dangerous enough, he regularly left the oppressive safety of London on lengthy expeditions. His return would be the most exciting event of the year.Where?Near Brick Lane. Meet tomorrow at 1700.Brick Lane lay right near the Perimeter. Although not technically illegal to be there, it would be suspicious. She’d have to fake a malfunctioning Interface and fry her connection here to cover disconnecting for that long and avoid being tracked. At this rate, she would run out of Hubs that would have her.Better be worth it. Who else is coming?Micky. There’s only us and Micky left, Viv.It took her a moment of staring blankly into space to prevent the shock of that statement from alerting the Facilitator.I’ll be there.~oOo~Neolager tasted like crap — algae-derived, like all food and beverages, since all complex plant life including hops had died out decades ago — but it was cold and alcoholic, so Vivian drank and leaned back, relaxing for the first time in months. Her gaze wandered aimlessly over the gig posters that covered the wall and ceiling of Seb’s underground hideout, dating from as far back as a century ago to just after the Punk Ban. A lump rose in her throat when she saw one for Eve’s final gig.Dragging her eyes away, the sight of Felyx sitting on their host’s lap comforted her. The latter scratched between the two cat ears Felyx had styled from their pastel pink and baby blue striped hair, the rest having all been shaved off except for their sweeping fringe — just like old times. Even at gigs, they had stood out with their androgynous feline look, so disappearing into bland conformity had been harder on them than most.Instinctively, she ran her fingers over the bare skin of her scalp between the five ridges of bright red spikes converging in a long ponytail at the back. She glanced over at Micky, the topless one-man mosh pit in the corner with colour-changing luminous Mohican to match the glowing tattoos he’d hidden for two years. That hour the three of them had spent transforming back from respectable citizens into their true selves had been worth it, no matter how tricky reverting would Dikmen Escort Bayan be.She stretched in a gesture almost as feline as her friend, humming contentedly as her pierced nipples moved braless and free under her tattered but beloved War On Women sleeveless t-shirt, passed down from her grandma.The song finished and the dancer crashed down on the mattress beside her, breathless.“You getting old, Micky?” she said, passing him a fresh beer.“Not compared to this music,” he said, taking a grateful swig. “Don’t you have anything more recent, Seb? My grandad would have called this dad rock.”“Nope,” the bearded host gently disengaged himself from his pet, who reluctantly slipped off his lap to allow him to stand. He walked to the turntable and selected a new record as he spoke. “The Ban erased all digital copies of punk. Any old CDs I’ve come across are too scratched, and good luck finding a cassette not warped by the heat. Luckily, I unearthed this stash of vinyl in my family home — great-great-grand aunt Kath was a punk. Anyway, has anything from the last hundred years topped this?” The ferocious opening riff of Stiff Little Fingers’ debut silenced complaints for a few minutes as uncontrollable grins possessed all four of their faces.“This is making me horny,” Felyx said, pawing at Sebastian’s leg. The latter stroked their cheek and crouched down, planting a kiss on their painted cat nose.“That’s sweet, Kitty, but the past year hasn’t changed the previous thirty-five.”Felyx nodded reluctantly and slunk over to the mattress, batting their eyelashes at Micky and pouting. The subject of his silent pleading laughed and, hooking a thick forefinger through the loop on his collar, yanked them to him, his stubble grazing the cat’s lips. Vivian sighed, recalling the whisker implants they used to sport, banned along with punk at the beginning of the Outbreak when anything and everything got blamed for the swelling Horde.They could still put in their tail in private, though. As Felyx rolled their slim body sensuously against the larger man’s sweaty, muscular chest, she couldn’t help reaching over to pat it, following the silky synthetic fur all the way to the hole in their pink cut-off shorts where it joined the butt plug. Her hand drifted down over the cotton encasing pert buttocks to the blue fishnets crisscrossing their smooth, light brown legs and on down to their feet. Gliding her fingers back up to Felyx’s thighs made them writhe in a sensual movement that melted the ice enclosing Vivian’s libido. They broke away from Micky, digging their long, pink-varnished nails into his pecs as they twisted to look at her with almond eyes.“It’s been a while, Viv.”“Seven months. I know, sorry. I felt bad for bailing on you both that night.”“Why did you?”“It was Eve’s thirtieth birthday. And I’d forgotten until halfway out the door. I couldn’t— I had to be alone.”Felyx saved her from falling down that spiral again by covering her mouth with theirs. Once the surprise wore off, she kissed back, pushing her tongue in urgently to find the comforting familiarity of their bar piercing. She pulled herself onto her knees using their tank top and their partner’s broad shoulder as handles, pressing her body into both but keeping her lips locked to Felyx’s, only breaking away when a rough hand slid in the side slit of her top to squeeze her breast.“Dirty bastard,” she said to Micky.“Don’t lie and say you don’t like it.”“I only lie to cops,” she replied, grinning before pressing her lips to his. The kiss, Escort Dikmen as always between them, was all lust and no tenderness, so she felt no guilt in cutting it short to turn back to Felyx.With the catpunk grinding against the bulge in the crotch of his jeans, Micky was content to let the pair tongue-wrestle while he groped Felyx’s arse and Vivian’s tits. To liven things up, he grasped the root of the tail tickling his knuckles and rotated it so that the bulb inside rolled against his bedmate’s prostate. Satisfied with the moans this generated, his fingers located the chain linking Vivian’s nipple rings and pulled just hard enough to make her look his way. Leaving his shoulder, her hand headed under her plaid mini-skirt, giving him a glimpse of hairy, pantyless pussy, so he pulled again, building a rhythm syncopated with the movement of his other hand.“Take your tops off,” he growled, pushing them apart.Felyx obeyed immediately, purring when Micky ran his fingers over their toned, flat chest, but Vivian hesitated. Sebastian sat in his armchair, sipping herbal tea and watching her, bemused.“Do you want us to go next door, Seb? I know this isn’t your thing.”“No, stay now you’ve started. I might not have any interest in participating, but I can still appreciate the show, just as I never had any desire to pick up an instrument or throw myself into the circle pit but attended every punk gig I could. I’ll enjoy you enjoying yourselves and keep the music going.”Reassured that they were not imposing on their asexual host, she turned back to her other two friends, locked together at the mouth once again. She decided she’d better catch up, so she pulled off her skirt as well as her top. When they continued to ignore her, she stepped closer, planting her fishnet-clad legs apart and tracing around the hole torn from the crotch. Even that failed to get their attention, so she grabbed Felyx’s collar and Micky’s Mohican.“Hey, what does a girl have to do to get her cunt eaten around here?”“You could say, ‘Please,’” Micky suggested, seizing her wrists. Though she struggled, she was no match for him, and he pulled her off balance, controlling her fall so that she ended up with her hands planted on the wall above him, his palms slapping into her buttocks, and his breath on her labia. “But, since you’re my friend—”His sentence ended with his tongue plunging into her needy sex with the same lack of finesse as his kisses, but she moaned anyway. Unseen by her, Felyx’s lips followed the tattooed trails on Micky’s torso to his nipples, licking and sucking at first and then biting — hard. He jerked into her, scratching her clit with his stubble and making her hiss but not pull away. Releasing one of her cheeks, he clamped the pink and blue catpunk to his chest, slurping and lapping more urgently with the pain until her legs shook and months of denial flooded out of her onto his face and filled the room with her cries.As her climax faded, she tried to step away, but Micky seized her with both hands again. She looked down, ready to demand he release her, but reconsidered when she saw the wordless dare in his eyes. Between ragged breaths, she nodded, whimpering as he resumed aggressively lapping at her hypersensitive pussy.Freed from Micky’s grip, Felyx licked up the trails of liquid that had run down his lover’s neck to their source. Vivian gasped as their nose tip pressed against her star and their tongue slithered inside her, swirling far more languidly than Micky’s furious thrusting. A second pair of hands held her thighs, trapping her completely. Her mind gradually disintegrated until the searing guitars disappeared, and there was only the tongue fucking her cunt and the tongue sliding inexorably over her perineum to circle her puckered hole until her knees began to tremble again.

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