female wobbuffet

I don’t want to be executed or spend my life in the dungeon for what we did, but I… I have to tell someone. I have to face some kind of judgment. After everything that’s happened, I just can’t sit on this any longer, and if I am to break my promise and reveal this to someone, if I am to be punished by someone, I want it to be you.”

Sarah flopped down on the couch and started scrolling on her phone. She knew she should be doing her homework, or some after workout stretches but she was in a bad mood tonight and wasn’t about to do anything productive. All the girls in her volleyball team had spent practice gossiping about their boyfriends or the boys that they were into while Sarah just had to smile and listen. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t interested in those types of things, but she could do without the snide remarks they made about her being the only one without a boyfriend or even having a crush yet. She’d watched porn and masturbated, but with the way the other girls talked about guys and sex, she couldn’t understand the hype. Whatever itch it scratched for them just didn’t exist the same way for her.

Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.