Trista

Groggily I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the morning's first light that was streaming through living room curtains. I groaned in protest as I roused from my drunken stupor. I sat up on the couch and pulled out my NCD to check the time when I received a notification from my calendar. "Fuck! I completely forgot about Carla."

I leapt to my feet and began getting ready when I noticed a missed text notification.

Son, can you swing by the lab today? - Mom

Swing by the lab? Why would she... I puzzled to myself. I bet she needs some more genetic samples for the pheromone inoculation.

As I made my way to the bus stop, I pondered the events of the last few days. I was living out the wildest fantasy of every boy that had lived before the Shota, and I wasn't sure I was ready to give that up.

I pressed my way onto the packed bus. One good thing about being a Shota was I didn't take up much space. I squeezed past several young professionals and retail workers before winding up wedged between two well-endowed women. As much as I enjoyed the softness of their breasts pressed against my head, I paid for it by being groped continuously for the entire trip. I chalked up my molestation to the bus being overly crowded. But even still it seemed some hands lingered longer than was necessary when they brushed against my backside, I could have sworn that one also gave me an intentional squeeze, but when I looked around, all I saw was the still drowsy yawning faces none of which seemed to be focused on me or my plight.

My eyes darted back and forth, scanning each woman for any hint of impropriety. At one point, I could have sworn I saw a picture of me displayed on a woman's NCD. It was hard to get a clear view, but from what I could make out, she was visiting a site called shota hunter. Curious, I tried to pull up the site on my personal device, but all I got was a blank page and a username and password prompt. Finally, I arrived at Hart Genetics and made a hasty escape before someone decided to become overly bold with their groping.

The foyer was eerily silent. Even the majestic fountain that greeted one upon entering was dry as a bone. My footsteps eerily echoed as I walked across the marble floor. My face lit up as I noticed that behind the receptionist counter sat the beautiful Lashanda.

"Surprised to see you are working on the weekend," I said as I leaned against the granite counter.

"The normal girl is sick. Or so she claims. Personally, I think it's a case of the weekend flu," The ebon beauty responded leaning toward me. "So what brings you down this weekend?"

"Mother... Tests," I reply, smiling.

"I thought your days of tests were over. It's been a few years since Ms. Hart had you down to probed and prodded."

"I'm fine. Better than ever. Recently I've become irresistible to women. Mother wants to examine why."

"Recently?" Lashanda said before standing up her face getting closer and closer to mine. "I've thought that ever since she first introduced you to me."

"Naughty naughty, I do believe I was only a plus three that first time."

Her lips were so close to me now I could smell the strawberries in her lip gloss. "I wasn't going to act on it then, but you know how it is with you, Shota. We women grow older while you all stay the same age."

God damn; I thought. All I have to kiss her and she's mine. It's the weekend. I can fuck her right here in the lobby, and no one would be the wiser.