BSU: A Romance In Molly - Ch. 01

Chapter 1: Legal and Ready to Mingle

Three years later

Martin squirmed in his seat as the buxom brunette in the MAHAD office stamped his form and swabbed his mouth with a cotton bud. She got Martin to place his hands on top of a glass pad, insisting on guiding his hands with her manicured fingers as she stared him in the eye. The name tag on her breast spelled 'Hannah' in block white letters.

"You have a nice smile, Martin." Hannah said.

"DNA and fingerprints match. Identity confirmed," a cheery voice said, coming from the speaker above them. "You are Martin Emerson, Social Security Number USA-010-482-1581. Happy Eighteenth Birthday, Martin Emerson." Martin found it hard to believe the voice was computer-generated.

The bracelet on Martin's wrist snapped open and clattered onto the pad. Martin fingered the padding on the inside of the bracelet. It never got squishy no matter how much he sweated.

"We have sent to your devices all the necessary brochures, articles, and books you need to make an informed decision about your sexual future. Would you like my number so you can contact me after I get off work in case you have any... inquiries?" Hannah said. Martin saw her pupils dilating like droplets of midnight black oil spreading out over an emerald lagoon. She licked her already-glossy lips and slipped a thin, crisp square of what felt like a business card between Martin's fingers.

Martin opened his mouth and shut it. So this is what they meant about being treated differently after you're eighteen.

"Uh, sure," Martin muttered. Hannah thrust her chest out and shook her shoulders so that her bosom swayed too.

Martin left his seat and headed for the office door at the far end of the room. It was different from the one he had used to enter the office. He stopped right in front of the doors -- he had forgotten to ask if he could keep his bracelet. He turned around and went back to Hannah's counter, where she was licking her already-glossy lips and slipping a small white square of paper between the fingers of a pale, gangly gingerhead. A cheery voice from the overhead speaker said "Happy Eighteenth birthday, Ralph Barings." Hannah picked the open bracelet off the table and dropped it into a bin beside her, where dozens of identical bracelets gleamed.

"Oh, Martin," Hannah said, her eyes flickering between Ralph and Martin. "Do you have any further inquiries?

"I'll just be leaving."

Hannah nodded, her limpid grey eyes flickering suggestively down to his groin. Wait -- weren't her eyes green earlier? Martin could care less. Behind him, Hannah's fingers resumed their staccato on her keyboard. What he didn't know was that Hannah had pulled up a ShifterChat window on her screen and typed:

Professional secretary Double E brunette green/gray eyes done

Martin walked out of the room through the exit door. The corridors branched out ahead of him in three different directions, and they were all marked 'Exit'. Martin chose the leftmost path and started down a long ramp that descended gently over two stories.

Every inch of the walls on either side was covered, floor to ceiling, with stone carvings of palm-sized men and women (or were they Shifters?) intertwined in countless lewd poses. Here, at eye level, was a man reaming a busty beauty with strong Latin features doggy-style as two more sex goddesses clutched at his groin and extended needy tongues towards his flesh-ensconced cock. Further down, twelve women pleasured a man with their mouths alone. One of them was kissing him, another was sucking him off, and the other ten were licking him all over. Right ahead, standing in his path with her hands clasped before her, was a blonde with a pair of knockers that fairly spilled out of her orange jumpsuit!

"S-sorry," he said.

"What? No!" The blonde said. "You haven't done anything wrong. I'm Celeste One-one-six, Forty AFF, house Alpha, and my personnel number is en --a -- dash -- seven one five five two six nine three four." She leaned in and extended her hand. Martin shook it, and felt the warmth from her firm grip seep from her palm to his. He noticed a soot mark on her cheek, and smelled a slightly sour scent of solder emanating from her. It was just strong enough to be noticeable, but also mild enough to be somehow pleasant when mingled with the faintly musky scent of her perfume.

"Do you like my work?" Celeste said. Martin gaped and pointed at the wall carvings.

"You did all this?"

"Of course," Celeste said, grinning.

Martin looked at the carvings with fresh eyes. The figures' cuticles were visible, if you squinted hard enough, and the lips of the men in the carving had been textured with lines. Every vein in the cock of a man getting ridden by two Shifters stood out, and his slightly uneven teeth gleamed as though wet.

"All by yourself?"

"Yep."

"No way." Shifters knew anything and everything, but this was more than just knowing. This was artistry.

Celeste stretched her hand out towards a man's orgasmic face, which was framed by the legs of a Shifter administering a blowjob while hanging upside-down, partially supported by his shoulders. Celeste's palm flattened itself half an inch from the carving, stopped by a wall of glass so transparent that Martin would not have noticed it if she hadn't done that.

"Right now, my biggest chore is keeping my work dust-free as I work on the ceiling. Hence, the robots I made."

"You're a genius!"

Celeste shrugged and grinned. "It's no big deal," she said.

"No big deal?" Martin laughed. "You're amazing."

"I could design something for your home too," she said, her grin broadening.

"Wow, really? That'd be awesome!" Martin found his eyes drifting slowly down towards her swollen chest. He wrenched them away, flinching at the memory of his mother's hand clouting his head.

"I... am... ah... If you really wanted me to come along... If you made a formal request... I would have to comply... fill out... paperwork..." Celeste's eyes snapped back up from Martin's crotch to his own.

"I don't want to take you away from your work," Martin said. Damn, those are killer hips, he thought.

"I said that if you made a formal request, I would have to comply. I wouldn't leave my work otherwise" Celeste said, looking upwards. Martin followed her gaze, and he could just make out a security camera right above them. It was one of the new stick-on models; small, easily missed, and capable of streaming its feed to a server miles away.

"Maybe later?" Martin said.

Celeste dug out a pen and a yellow Post-It note from her pockets. "Call me if you want me to come over."

The double doors at the end of the corridor had carved ivory nudes presenting their hips as handles. He shoved them open, and there was Carla in the foyer, waiting for him with two leggy Scandinavian escorts and a huge grin on her face.

Carla rushed forward and all but ground herself on him.

"Happy Eighteenth, Martin!" She squealed.

Martin's patted her back and took a step out of the embrace. "Thanks, Carla."

Carla led Martin out through an identical set of ornate doors and walked him over to their car. As they stepped out of the building, bands of Shifters loitering outside the complex's fence perked up and looked at Martin. The look in their narrowed eyes and their catcalls made him hurry his step. Two or three of them melted their tops away in favor of ridiculously undersized bikinis. A few other shifters took things further by going totally topless. The rest went totally nude. Five or six posed in cheerleader uniforms and leather suits.

Martin got into the car with Carla, closed his eyes, and focused on repressing the humongous boner between his legs.

You animal, he thought. What would Molly think? He reached into his pocket and crumpled Hannah's business card. He wanted to do the same with Celeste's note, but then remembered his mother's work-roughened hands, day-long bed hair, and bloodshot eyes. Celeste could visit his home, but he didn't have to be there while she was doing it.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Carla said. Martin shrugged.

"I already have a hotel booked for the week." Carla said. "The bed in the Platinum suite can fit four."

"Cool." Martin said.

"Guess which hotel."

"Hilton?"

"Guess again."

"I give up."

Carla grinned.

"The Four Seasons Hotel."

"Cool."

Carla rested her hand on his knee. "Me and my bodyguards are going there to relax and unwind. It wouldn't be unusual if a healthy young man were to join us so he could take advantage of all the... luxuries on display all around."

"Cool."

The edges of Carla's mouth tightened.

They spent the rest of the journey in silence. Martin fairly tumbled out of the car when they reached his home. Carla noted with pleasure that Martin's fingers were clumsy and his walk was slightly bowlegged, as though he were trying to walk with a badly-swollen member in his pant leg.

The car had no sooner begun moving than Carla's bodyguard Astrid started sobbing and clawing at the window.

"So close! So close!" Astrid wailed.

"Control yourself!" Carla said.

"You ask the impossible!" Astra, Carla's other bodyguard, moaned, reaching into her pants to knead her groin with a trembling hand.

"Oh really?" Carla said, "I've gone years around him, restraining myself from getting down on my knees, sucking his cock and ripping off his pants so I could fuck his brains out --"

"No more! No more!" Astrid screamed, covering her ears with her hands.

Carla continued, "And the two of you have been with me for one week. All you have to do is wait two more days."

"I hate my job," Astrid sobbed, "by all my ancestors and all the cocks of all their men, I hate it."

"I know you think I can pull a few strings here and there and get him into a room with us, but my hands are tied. I have enemies who know what brand of substitute I eat, where I sleep, and what men I have been assigned to. One wrong move, and I'll be liquidated -- and the both of you together with me."

"I guess I should be grateful I don't have to worry about my next meal." Astrid muttered.

"Yes, you should." Carla said.

Their car stopped so suddenly that Carla had to brace herself against the seat in front of her. Astrid grabbed Carla by the neck and shoved her head down, and Astra aimed her coil handgun through the windshield at the blue pickup in their way. It had cut in from behind and stopped right in front of their car, forcing the A.I. driver to make an emergency stop.

"Try it. I fucking dare you to try it," Astra growled at the yet-unseen driver of the van. Astrid grabbed the remote controller and overrode the A.I.

An enormously tall and well-muscled redhead in hot pants so tight her ass cheeks were visible got out of the pickup and held her hands in the air. Astrid revved the engine, but Carla slapped the remote out of her hand.

"I know this Shifter," Carla said. "Lower your weapon, Astra."

"But boss --"

"She just wants to talk."

The redhead started walking over to them when Astra lowered her weapon. She stopped inches from their car's bonnet and crooked a finger at Carla: Come tither.

Carla swore and got out of her car.

"You never bring me good news," she said.

"Maybe I would if you gave me a bit more in the way of resources."

Carla cocked her head, as though hearing the dulcet tones of men moaning at the sight of her bare breasts. "Is that a complaint I'm hearing from the great Elise? The one who said that she would have all the dirt under Jenisse's pretty little nails in a file on my desk by last week?"

"I'm working on it, boss," Elise said.

"Work harder."

"I -- well, you see... I need... more money?" Elise wilted by the second as the deadly silence stretched on.

Carla tossed her one of the unmarked envelopes of cash she usually kept on her person. "Here's a thousand. Give me that file by the day after tomorrow."

Astra and Astrid watched the seven-foot tall redhead that looked to be twice as wide as their employer retreat back to her van, almost melting in the fury of Carla's gaze. She waved at Carla, smiling apologetically. The other Shifter replied with the one-finger salute.

"Let's go," Carla said when she was back in her own vehicle.