Secret Masochist - Prologue

(All characters in this story are eighteen years of age, or older)

Secret Masochist

You're scrolling through your text messages, trying not to be too obvious about it. Mrs. Beachum had threatened to take your phone on sight if she caught you with it again, but in your seat at the back of the class you're not too worried.

Taytay: Last night was so awesome!!

Taytay: I just wish my stupid parents hadn't come home early >:(

Taytay: Maybe next time we can try to get ALL of my dick in your throat ;D

Taytay: I love how aggressive you are! It's SO HOT when you jump on top of me <3

You let out a long, deflating sigh. Taylor, your part-time friend-with-benefits, is nice enough. You appreciate that he's always good to go whenever you get the itch for some easy cock, and he's fun to hang out with when you're not fooling around. There's just something... missing.

"

Psst! Hey, RC!"

You look up at your buddy George, his dark curls falling over his face as he leans over and whispers to get your attention. He can definitely be a little annoying and oblivious sometimes, but it's only because he gets so excited about things. That natural passion is why you like him, so you put up with it even when you're clearly not in the mood.

"Sup, Georgie?" You keep your voice low, not wanting to attract your teacher's attention

He taps the piece of paper he'd been scribbling on. "Your character quiz is ready! Wanna take it right now? C'mon!"

You roll your eyes. George's latest thing is making up RPGs and getting all his friends to create characters of themselves in them. Well, friends plural is a strong word. He doesn't have too many of them.

"Sure, G-man. Hit me."

His face lights up with glee. "OK, OK. This one's a little different. What part of your body are you most proud of?"

You smile. This

is

different. "My legs, duh."

He scribbles on the sheet of paper. "What's your second favorite?"

Is he flirting with me?

You chuckle to yourself. "Probably my ass. I'm pretty happy with my topside, but I think they still have a little developing to do."

"Oh I dunno about that RC, I think they're a good size already." His face turns crimson as he realizes what he'd said.

He

is

flirting with me. Good for him!

"What about you, Jorge? What's your favorite thing about me?"

You didn't think his face could get any more red; you were wrong. "Uhh, er, your hair!" You give him a warm grin. He takes the encouragement. "It's such a cool shade of purple, and the short style makes you look just like the main character in an anime!"

Man, I wish people I were into flirted with me like that.

"So what about in your game? Am I gonna be an anime character or what?"

He tears his eyes from your smiling face and looks back down at his notepad. "Oh right, next question. How tall are you?"

"Pretty tall, for a female-bodied person."

"Body shape?"

"Medium-sexy."

He giggles. "Name?"

Doesn't that usually come first?

"RC."

"No no, your full name."

You give him a wry smirk. "C'mon Georgina, you know I don't—"

"

Miss

Murray!" The sound of your English teacher's voice cracking like a whip across the room makes you both jerk to attention. You quickly pull your phone down into your lap. "Miss Murray, I trust you and mister Ortega are having a productive conversation on the subject at hand?"

You blink, giving the short, stern woman your best innocent face. "I thought the subject was in

your

hand, Mrs. Beachum."

George and a few of the other students laugh.

Not a bad ratio, could use some work though.

One orange-haired boy at the front of the class scoffs. "She probably just doesn't understand it, Mrs. Beachum." That's Lincoln. He's friends with your ex. The sound of his condescending voice makes you simmer with hatred.

"What's there to understand about the existential whining of some dead white guy?" You do your best to return his condescending tone. "The future is female."

Mrs. Beachum furrows her brow, adding to her already considerable number of wrinkles. "Now now, miss Murray, it's important to have an appreciation for the men who laid the foundations of our current culture and society."

Lincoln nods along. "Well said, Mrs. Beachum. Indeed, where would we be without these pillars of our civilization?"

You can't help yourself from laughing. "Probably in

outer space

by now, if we didn't have toxic dudes like this holding us back."

The final bell of the day rings loud and shrill, drowning out your teacher's exasperated response. You stuff your notes into your bag and make for the door. On your way out you look back at Lincoln who was still gathering his things. "Oh yeah, and fuck the patriarchy!"

He rolls his eyes.

Out in the bustle of the hallway you catch eyes with Jessica. She's a pretty standard cheerleader type, and as those types always do she's walking with a little pack of her friends. When she sees you, her pink-glossed lips curl in a sneer. "Nice outfit, grunge queen. Your hair makes you look like a

boy

, dyke!"

Your temper sparks. Reflexive insults nearly snap out of you, but something in her look makes you think of something better. "Wow! Complimenting my aesthetic, calling me royalty, and even getting my sexuality halfway right. Not a bad start, Jessy." The gaggle of girls blink at you, obviously not expecting that. "I'd flirt back, but I know you're only into boys, and I'm not really feelin' like a boy today. Later, hun!"

You leave them standing there, gossiping angrily with each other. Walking down the hall on your way to freedom, you feel like a boss. Another week in the final quarter of your final year of high school was in the books. Now you can just chill, relax, and...

Buzz! Buzz! Buzzzzzzzzzz!

Your phone feels like it's exploding in your pocket. You pull it out and see a cascade of reminders and notifications.

Oh. Right.

Once again, you had set your own dumb ass up for failure. You've been pushing off your obligations and responsibilities for weeks, and now everything was coming due at once. Feeling defeated, you scroll through the list.

Can't get started on the good times until I take care of this shit.

Finding your resolve, you take a deep breath. No time like the present.