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“Sweetie don’t worry. I wanted your cum and we don’t have all day in here. You’ll do better next time.” Next time? Did she just say next time? “Of course you can’t tell ANYONE about this.” Mrs. B. helped me arrange my toga and made sure my zipper was up. Students hooted when we left the closet.

She knew she needn’t bother as her dad would be sleeping like a log. He had sleep apnea and used a CPAP machine to help him sleep and would also swallow a couple of tablets to help him get a good night’s rest. The whir of the machine sounded like a quiet vacuum, while her dad lay on his back like a hospital patient with the tube rigged up to his nose. She’d gotten a fright when she’d seen it the first time, but she’d gotten used to it by now.

Harnessing all of his strength and gambling his life, Roc slammed Ingram square in the face with the stump of his missing arm. It was far from a graceful punch, more like a clumsy jab, but Ingram, so focused on everything else and having never expected such an attack in a thousand years, was utterly discombobulated by the hit, and inadvertently released Roc. Roc pulled away and escaped to the sky, with Ingram having just enough time to slow his descent and avoid a fatal impact. He still hit the ground with bone-breaking force, but he was alive. Roc landed beside him, staring at his vanquished opponent, with the crowd still trying to process what had happened. Until now, Roc had never acknowledged them, but now, he raised his missing arm, as though holding up an invisible fist in triumph, and the spectators erupted into cheers.