Author's Note: All characters are 18 and over.
*****
Technology is marvelous. It allows the weak human body to transcend its limits and go far beyond. Star travel was possible, new alien races have been discovered and made friends of which only served to boost the already massive leaps of knowledge and technology humanity has made beforehand. State of the art medicine, genetic manipulation and many other means of choosing one's lifestyle became available to the middle class of the planet. Robot servants, automated kitchens and prime entertainment were at their fingertips.
It was needless to say that with this humanity has changed tremendously in both culture and ideals. Only those of the lower class and below have remained more or less the same as they all poured into the serving jobs. Machines did their jobs far better but many still liked an organic touch.
Zamuel was not from a lower class household. His skimpy and flamboyant clothes may be 3D printed but their material is prime synth and his lean body showed the natural adaptation of his parent's genetic modifications. He was one of many 'sissy boys', effeminate boys with plump lips, long eyelashes and wide hips, and was about to start attending an all-sissy-boy school in pursuit of his dreams.
With a bared midriff showing his barbell navel piercing and wild shoulder-length hair, he sat comfortably in the driver's seat as the car slowly made its way through the traffic. Makeup was important and he constantly checked himself in the small hand mirror he had to make sure his lips were the perfect rosy shade and if his mascara was perfect. First impressions were everything, father said.
Beside him sat his mother, a curvaceous woman in her late twenties with a radiant flow around her. In reality she was in her forties and two children behind her. She watched her son fret over his looks with her green and almond shaped eyes that he has also inherited and smiled softly.
"Sweetie, your makeup is fine," She reassured him and put a hand on his thigh. He twitched at the touch and she slowly pulled it back, fighting the frown. She was really worried for him. "We triple checked back home."
Zam sighed and settled his hands in his lap, still looking in his reflection in the mirror as he spoke. "Yeah, you're right. I'm just really worried, you know? There were so little femboys in my school and now I'm going to a femboy-only one."
Zamuel's parents had set him up for a tough time in regular school. There were so few there that he had trouble in adapting to the more physical classes. Leiana remembered that one day when Zam was fourteen and he came back with a big smile before declaring he'd made a right and true friend. She didn't tell Zam this but she and his father hoped that the enhanced stud would start dating him and take his virginity by this time.
One touch Zamuel didn't flinch away from was when she took his lithe hand in hers, squeezing reassuringly. "Remember what your father told you."
"'We're bitches and crazy'?" He asked, stifling a laugh. Zamuel's father attended the same school years ago but didn't want to say what he learned there, seeming to want to keep it all as a surprise. Unfortunately for Zam he was neurotic about surprises and wished he knew everything he could about this place. Just applying to the school told him nothing what was done in there as their site was barred to him outside of the visitor's corner that had vague descriptions of being a fine school for femboys of all races.
Leiana chortled but shook her head. "The more you fret, the worse it gets. Just relax."
Slowly Zamuel stopped fiddling with the mirror, closing it with a quiet clap and stuffed it in his bag. He looked at the clock on his wrist-mounted commlink and saw they still got plenty of time to get to the entrance ceremony. His mother still hasn't let go of his hand and they sat there, holding hands while they went down the road with the sun beaming down on them.
It was a blessing to know that the school has classes at ten in the morning instead of at eight and earlier like his old one. At least he had time to eat breakfast properly before going. 'It's very hands-on over there' his father said, leaving him more befuddled than enlightened.
"Has he told you anything about his time there?" He asked, breaking the silence.
"At the school? No, not really. I know as much as you do, love." Leiana said, an apologetic smile on her face. It was worth a shot. "Where's Farro gone? He told you what school?"
At the end of Basic school where one goes to from kindergarten up to their maturity. Then from there they, depending on their aptitude tests, genetics and predispositions, are recommended to pick from a number of schools that are tailored to them. A student had many options, if the school is any good.
"Uhh..." Zamuel tried to remember but quickly looked up his message history with his Farro. "Oh, it's Human Resources. Wait, 57th Streiler Street...it's right next to mine!"
"Oooh!" Leiana cooed. "That's great! You two can hang out after school, then."
Her son nodded his head vigorously, a big grin on his face.
Their car finally arrived at their destination. It was a veritable complex, this school. Just the front was grandiose with a huge park. Zamuel had seen many colleges are of this size with dozens of buildings and this one hit the mark right on the head. Uniformed students were milling about from what he could see as they passed by the heavy gates. It was walled off, the school, and they had to park in the visitor's parking lot which was packed to the brim.
