Greg's cocky behavior gets him in trouble

For the second time in the last twenty-four hours, I left a sexually satisfied woman snoozing after a marathon session of passionate lovemaking. I checked the time on my NCD. It was not quite two in the morning. I should have been exhausted, but to the contrary, I had never been more energetic.

I quietly exited Rose's apartment and stepped out onto the lonely street to await the cloud car I had ordered. As I paced outside her tiny complex, I couldn't help but notice how desolate the neighborhood was. Half the street lights were either flickering on and off or completely burnt out, and there was not another soul out besides myself other than the occasional stray cat.

Finally, the car landed, and I slid inside before giving Roses' apartment one last look.

"Destination?" The automated voice requested.

"What clubs are still open?" I queried.

"Club Icharus is the most highly rated establishment still operating," came the response.

I thought a club named after a kid who got into trouble for flying to close the sun sounded apropos. "Icharus, it is." I looked down at my ankles and noticed my pants barely reached the top of my socks. "But first, let's stop at a twenty-hour automated tailor."

"There's still this many people trying to get in?" I said to myself as I arrived at Icarus. Dejectedly I made my way to the back of the line. No sooner had I queued than the head bouncer motioned me to the front. I walked past several dozen women who catcalled me and a few of whom even reached out and copped a cheap feel.

"ID," The big woman asked.

I produced my Shota age verification card. "Plus thirteen, eh. Alright, go on in." As she unhooks the rope, she adds. "Just be careful in there."

I found it odd that I would be warned for my safety as the bouncer clearly knew that I was of age. It was one thing for a woman to act overly concerned when mistook me for a child, as was often the case, but after I had provided incontrovertible proof that I was greater than a plus-four, I did get annoyed.

I walked in to witness a raucous scene. The latest hit of rap-rock orchestral sensation Five Boys Never Men had Women dressed in revealing club wear gyrate provocatively with each other. I say each other because the fact I counted three other boys, all of whom seemed to be being jealously guarded by a female companion, **** most women to settle for a partner of the same gender.

I did not wish to draw attention to myself just yet. I did my best to casually walk to the bar. and signaled for the bartender. "Whiskey sour."

The woman poured the drink and served it with a wry smile. "Don't get many boys with a taste for whiskey."

I took the sip of my drink. "I'm not like most Shotas."

"Clearly not," she replied. "So, where is your mama?"

"My mama?" I asked as I finished my drink. I pushed my glass forward, signaling my desire for a second.

"Your female companion. You're not here alone, are you?" She stated. The bartender raised an eyebrow seemingly at the thought that a boy would be here unchaperoned.

"She's in the bathroom," I hastily lied as I began work on my refilled beverage.

"Don't drink too much. We can't have you to **** with the crowd of cougars on the hunt," The bartender cautioned. "Most Shotas are out of town this week. Some kind of large convention is going on in Europe. Lot of the local women are getting ****."

"I'll be cautious," I agreed with a smile. My mind began to race as to how to exploit this information to my advantage. I downed the remains of second whiskey sour. "I'll take another one of these and a leg spreader." Then after a slight hesitation. "For my mama."

I took my drinks and walked over to an empty table. I could feel the curious stares follow me around the room. My ruse did its job of keeping any women from approaching me directly. I sat the leg spreader opposite of me in order to keep up the charade while I went to work on my third whiskey sour.

As I surveyed the room, it became apparent that the bartender had not overstated the situation. Most of the other tables were occupied by groups that consisted of three or four Shotacons and only a single Shota. I viewed several heated exchanges between a woman who believed that another of the group was monopolizing more than her fair share of boy's time.

As I grew tipsier, I decided to help myself to my made-up mama's beverage. The room was spinning slightly, my head was starting to pound, but the most immediate effect that needed my attention was pressure building up in my bladder. I got up from the table and pushed through the crowd in search of a restroom.

"No shhhota, only restroom." I slurred to no one in particular as I pressed into the multi-gender facility. I stumbled to the first unoccupied stall. Closing the door behind me, I leaned heavily into the stall wall and began to relieve myself.

"Stacy's mom has got it going on. Stacy's mom..." I sang over and over before walking out of the bathroom stall. I zipped my fly and but was having some difficulty with my belt.

"Looks like we have us a stray boy here, girls," A tall blonde said as she backed me into the wall. "No mama around to make sure you didn't drink too much?"

"Yeah, sheesh... waitin' on me," I answered, still fumbling with my belt.

"Liar. I watched you sitting by yourself for nearly half an hour. No woman would leave a cute little boy like you alone for a minute," She said, grabbing my hands and taking them away from my belt.

I started to get nervous. This was no test of my pheromones. This woman had not been near me until seconds ago. I was a small boy cornered by a predatory woman. I had stupidly drunk more than my Shota body could handle. Couple that with my lack of physical strength, and I was in deep trouble.

"Since you're an orphan, I think I'll just adopt you as my own," the blond said before planting a passionate kiss on my lips. Her tongue fought its way in my mouth as I struggled in vain to free my hands from her grip. My attacker then pressed her body against mine, her large breast mashed against my chest.

"Pleashe... let me go. People are watchin'," I implored her.

"That just makes it more exciting," She taunted back. "Besides, who would believe you weren't looking forward to this? Coming to the hottest Shota club alone. Dressed like that. And stumbling drunk. You were practically begging for a mama to discipline you."

She took slid my belt off and whipped the leather across my behind. "There will be more where that came from if you don't behave and do as mama says." She then took my hand and placed it on her chest as she began kissing me again. Her fingers undid the buttons on my shirt one by one, exposing my smooth hairless chest. I looked past her and saw a crowd of women watching. Some had out there NCDs filming the beginnings of my ****.