Even when I was younger, I knew that I was a complete freak. Before I was eighteen, it was in completely innocent ways, like me being unable to talk to teachers without being sassy or something, but I think something in my hormones just decided to scream, “Ariel is going to become obsessed with sex as soon as the clock strikes eighteen,” like I was some weird sex version of Cinderella.

So, of course, I discovered masturbation once I was an adult but made up for lost time and then some, and from that point on, I was set. I had a button on me that gave me good feelings when I pressed it, and the more I discovered about my body, the better the feelings were.

And then I was told about the Holy Grail of it all - if you got a boyfriend, and he touched it for you? You were set. It felt even better, and you could just sit back and enjoy it. What’s more, his dick? Goes inside you. Feels unreal. Best feeling on the planet.

The only problem? I sucked at talking to two people in particular: adults, basically any kind of adults, which wasn’t that bad since I barely had to, and boys I was crushing on. And you needed to have a crush on a boy to make him your boyfriend, and he needed to have a crush back. It was kind of hard to figure out if he had a crush on me if every time I so much as looked at a boy I liked, I’d turn pink, look back down at my desk and start giggling to myself. 

Any other girl would be worried about that. They would be seen as a weirdo and their popularity would be in danger. Fuck that. Who gives a shit if you’re popular? Once you have your own little circle, you’re set. You’re good. Wanting to be liked by everyone was reserved for little babies who couldn’t handle anyone thinking you’re anything less than the little princess you’re clearly not. And no one, in all of Hazelwood, understood this better than the Media Gang.

I loved the Media Gang. We weren’t really a gang, or even a club, but just the people that took ComTech in junior year and fell in love with it. Anything, from the morning announcements to whatever got posted to the school’s YouTube channel, was handled by us. We knew nobody gave a shit, but parents did, and anytime Hazelwood’s mouth spoke, parents would shower the school with praise. AKA, they showered us with praise.

I was not the leader by any means, but the Media Gang was such a family that the word ‘leader’ was just a formality anyway. To the family, I wasn’t just another student interested in media, I was just Ariel. And what’s more, I didn’t just have that family… I had another.

Outside of my career at school, I was crazy interested in two things - penises and making videos. I couldn’t do anything but fantasize about penises, so in my off time, if I wasn’t playing with my pussy, I was making videos, usually YouTube videos. I would watch video essays (a type of video where adults talked about how bad children’s media was for close to an hour), get ideas, then make my own, and had done that for basically the last three-ish years, and that’s what landed me my second family. 

There was this group of review YouTubers - basically YouTubers that liked to review movies and stuff like that - called The Amazing Channel. It had kind of a dumb name, but they found my channel after only thirty-ish videos and 2000 subscribers and, above all, assumed I was out of high school. They offered me an in on their channel, and offered to pay me as long as I could keep producing ‘quality content.’ 

(I was screaming about how bad NeverEnding Story’s editing was for about five minutes straight in my last video. Quality content.)

The only problem was, I obviously wasn’t out of high school yet, even if I was eighteen. And who was going to wait months to graduate? This was the internet age, baby. In a few months, these people would forget I existed. I had to do something, anything, to navigate this little problem.

***

Abraham was a complete bro. With a name like “Abraham,” he was never going to be popular, so he resigned to his fate and pursued his hobbies instead, which landed him in our little Media Gang family. More importantly, though, he was never judgmental. He wasn’t the best-looking guy on the planet, but we didn’t care about that. We were usually too amazed by the fact he was always picking up new skills in his off-time and talking about them casually.

I leaned over his shoulder as he worked his Photoshop magic. “It’s all about making sure it has the same texture,” he noted out loud, maybe just to himself, as he made a new layer over this fake ID we were making. 

I had to admit, it looked really real. Still, I didn’t want to boost his ego too much. “Make the age nineteen,” I demanded, gesturing to the age. “They’re gonna think I’m lying if I set the age too high.”

Abe shook his head. “Trust me,” he replied. “If you’re nineteen, one, they’re just gonna baby you, and two, what if they like to hang out and drink with each other?”

I gave him a weird look. “Um, they’re strangers, Abe,” I replied. “I’m not going to meet up with them IRL.”

“Ugh,” Drew groaned from two computers down. “Just say ‘in real life.’” He had his computer headphones on, so his fedora sat next to his keyboard. We teased him about it, and I would never admit to him that he’s the only guy I met that could actually pull off the fedora look. It helped that he kept his face shaven and cut his hair. Any less dedication to looking clean-cut, and a fedora made you look like a cringelord.

Abe ignored him. “I’m just saying, I bet The Amazing Channel does video calls, and if they think you’re too young to, you know, indulge, they’re gonna baby you.”

“Nobody here babies me,” I pointed out.

“We wouldn’t dare,” Drew laughed, now in this. “Damn Abe, that actually looks professional.”

“Yeah, trouble is, we need to print it on a good material,” he thought out loud. “Plus there’s that reflective stuff that goes over top.”

“Does that matter? I’m just gonna be sending a picture of it,” I pointed out.

“Trust me,” Abe said simply. 

“Do you think I pass for a twenty-one-year-old?” I asked Drew.

Drew looked me over, moving his mouth to the side in thought. “I mean, no, but I already know you. If you just say you look young for your age… especially if you’ve got the ID to prove it…”

***

“Wow, you were not kidding,” the guy murmured, looking at the picture file I sent. “You do look young for your age.”

I decided not to be too opinionated (AKA too Ariel) in my first meeting with the guy, so I shrugged. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Oh, definitely not,” he replied immediately. “To be honest, I bet viewers will really like that. They’re expecting some young girl but then a grown woman opens her mouth and they’re all like ‘oh, this is not what I expected. I wanna listen.’ You know?”

I smiled at him, though probably not for the reason he thought.

“Anyways, all this checks out. We’ll be using PayPal unless you need us to use something else. All we’d need from you is a video uploaded every two weeks. And obviously, try to make them good. Eye-catching thumbnails, interesting ideas, all that. I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but I mean, this is YouTube, so if you really wanted a winner, all you’d have to do is wear a, you know, lower-cut shirt in the thumbnail and guys will flock to it. I’m not tryna be weird or sexist, I’m just saying, that gets the views.”

I raised my eyebrows. Wow, this guy was direct. A little creepy, but I was me, so that only intrigued me. Still, I was a freak, not dumb. If it somehow got out I was in high school and joined this company, the worst I would get was a slap on the wrist. If I appealed to online strangers’ horny levels when I was only eighteen, I’d get in serious shit. 

“We obviously won’t punish you if a video flops,” he continued. “It happens. But if videos keep flopping or you don’t get the views we thought you would, we have a right to revisit our deal with you. It’s all in the contract, so be sure to read it over.”

I already did, before the call began. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea that this guy basically got to own my content and could cancel at any time even though I couldn’t. Plus, I was eighteen and… well, to be frank, my videos were already better than his. It helped that I actually knew how cameras worked - white balance, aperture, you name it. This guy knew how to buy an expensive camera at Best Buy and find the record button. Still, the money was good, and it was clear I wasn’t going to find this level of exposure anywhere else, so…

***

As soon as our useless ComTech teacher, Mr. Whittleton, left the room, Abe busted out the champagne. “Go team!” he chanted, opening the bottle ceremoniously. Drew, Raven and Harmony all cheered, while Greg twirled a finger above him sarcastically, not turning around from his computer. 

Raven was a cool guy, if a little misunderstood. He wasn’t really good at… anything involving media, but he was also 5’3 and a boy, so where else was he going to go? He had everything going for him to be trendy at Hazelwood - mixed-race, good fashion sense, visible abs - but not height. Poor guy.

Harmony was your typical nerdy-looking girl. Not like, 'ooh, she’s nerdy' nerdy like dumb boys drool about, but like, actually nerdy. A full lisp to her voice, thick glasses, one eye that always looked in a slightly different direction, and all the crippling insecurities and self-doubt that came from boys repeatedly bullying her about those things over the years. In here, she was confident, and it was actually kind of a shame. When she was confident, she actually had some pretty good charisma, and probably could have found some cute boy to date, but, well, her options were kind of limited here.

I’m not saying the guys here were undateable, but it wasn’t like they were nice guys that happened to look weird. Abe liked proving people wrong, Drew had an ‘um, actually’ problem, Raven was like most blank-slate trying-to-be-popular guys - boring - and Greg thought he would lose street cred by actually taking interest or something. We knew he cared deep down, but Greg had this habit of only ever talking to people to make a joke at their expense or something. It actually kind of sucked that he was the best-looking out of all of us, because he could have actually done something with that. Instead, he always set out to neg people or rib them or whatever. The end result was that over time, you’d push back, and then Greg would point out, in front of everyone, how 'defensive' you were. Ugh. Nobody but me actually insulted him back, but hilariously, Greg would defend himself with this faux chuckle every time someone did hit him back. Like it was so funny that someone was attempting to do what he did to him. He had the thinnest skin I’d ever seen on a guy. In small doses, though, he was funny and even kind of sweet, and actually good intentions. So I only ever allowed myself to experience him in small doses. 

We quickly gave out plastic cups to everyone - even Greg - and poured the champagne. It wasn’t real champagne, just some alcohol-free sparkling beverage. We weren’t stupid enough to have alcohol out in a classroom. We did this kind of celebration all the time - the last time was when Drew got his driver’s license. We were a family. We liked celebrating things together. 

After drinking and celebrating, most of the Media Gang just went back to work, although Harmony and I got to talking.

“Tho what’th your firtht video going to be?”

I smirked. “I mean, I already have about thirty out, if you want to check them out,” I admitted cheekily. “But I dunno. It’s just business as usual, but now I’m gonna get paid for it.”

“Wow,” Harmony replied with stars in her eyes. She may have been older than me, but she was adorable when she got excited, like a lil’ kitten. It was easy to see her as attractive, but I was me. I could see anyone as sexy.

***

And that was a blessing and a curse. I physically couldn’t handle keeping my hands away from myself at least three times a day. Once in the bathroom stalls at lunch, once when I got home after school and once right before bed. If I woke up early, I was going to finger myself. If I was bored mid-afternoon, I was sliding my pants off and having fun. My parents, if they were even home, didn’t really give a shit about me, and my little brother, the most understanding person in the world, accepted it. He didn’t judge me, and I loved him for that. He wasn’t weirded out, he didn’t ask questions, he wasn’t creepy… he just gave me my space. What a trooper. Dude seemed to hate sex anyway - I had no idea how we were related. I used my first paycheck from The Amazing Channel to get him some noise-canceling headphones as a thank you. He was a huge gamer, so he loved them. I shared a thin wall with my bro, so it worked out for me too. 

I used to watch porn, but it got stale really quickly. Plus, it turned out that if my job was making fun of bad movies, watching porn was the worst thing I could do to myself. There was only so many cheesy plotlines and so much wooden acting I could handle. I wanted something real.

I got the naughty idea shortly before joining The Amazing Channel. It was so taboo, so awful. I just looked up my friends’ socials and fingered myself to them. It wasn’t pornographic, it was usually not even sexy, but the idea of me fingering myself like a slut to Abe’s newest profile picture was the hottest fucking thing. I didn’t even have a crush on Abe, but if he ever wanted to be friends with benefits, I would totally be down.

Honestly, that was the case with every friend. I’d bend over for Drew. I’d suck Raven’s dick. I would eat out Harmony until she screamed. I’d even let Greg use me in that way I knew he would. And me using their innocent pictures to get myself off got me even more hot and bothered than usual. I found something new, something sexy. I loved it. 

I loved it a little too much, as it turned out, if the text from my little bro asking me to be a bit quieter “please” was evidence. I wanted to snap back since he was in his late teens too anyway, so it's not like he wasn't in this world too, but he did use the P-L-word with me. Besides, I’d been fingering myself for close to an hour. It was time to work. That review of The Road to El Dorado wasn’t going to make itself. 

I set up the camera, readied the script, and cleared my throat, ready to start. As I did, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, staring at myself for a few seconds. I was wearing this button-up blouse. It looked cute, but conservative. Experimentally, I unbuttoned a button on my blouse, allowing a little bit more of my chest to show. I wasn’t busty at all - the tragedies of being born into a thin-as-rags family - but it was still kind of fun to show off. I smiled triumphantly to myself. I wasn’t breaking any laws by showing a little more skin.

***

Abe scored a bullseye by insisting I pose as twenty-one. The next online meeting I had with The Amazing Channel featured a surprise guest - alcohol. I was abstaining, of course, but the other guys - and they were all guys - wanted to make sure everyone in the chat was of age before they started drinking their beers and playing Jackbox. I didn’t know what would have happened if I said I was eighteen, but odds were, they wouldn’t have let me into the call.

Go figure, the guys all loved me. They were just as much shut-in nerds as the guys in the Media Gang, but the Media Gang had two girls - one of them being me of all people - letting them know that girls were humans too. These guys thought all women wear corsets and put hearts above their i’s and always say ‘please and thank you’ and were dumber than men or something. Yet here I was, a fully grown woman, sitting at her computer with bad posture, wearing pajama bottoms, making better dick jokes than any of the men during Quiplash. All I had to do was dye my hair and bam, I was every boy’s dream girl. I wasn’t ruling it out but for now, it stayed my signature dark brown.

One Discord meeting quickly turned into two, then three, then four. The guys met every week, and apparently at first, they only planned to invite me to one a month. Soon, I was seeing them every week too, and they were getting more and more open joking about sex in front of a girl. How scandalous. 

“Let’s fucking go!” CinemaCynic celebrated when the screen showed he won our game of Tee KO. “You guys need to step up your game.”

“And you need to get some bitches, Nick,” I scoffed, and the other guys all went “Ooooh” in a chorus. It wasn’t a great line, but whenever a woman said it, these dudes lost their minds.

“Sorry, where’s your boyfriend, Ariel? At the bottom of the sea?” CinemaCynic tried to fire back.

“What’s that, like, a Little Mermaid joke?” I asked with derision. 

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Dan from Show Me the Money Shot cut in with his signature buttery voice. “Ariel was the mermaid in that movie. She fell for a guy from the land, on the beach or whatever.”

“Yeah, if this is your brand of snappy commentary Nick, don’t expect to have more subscribers than me for too long, dude,” I added swiftly, getting rewarded with another chorus of 'Ooh's. 

Nick laughed, knowing this was all in good fun, though he couldn’t resist slipping in an “Ariel, you are so fucking ugly, dude” when I went up to get some water.

I leaned back into the frame of my webcam and just asked, “Yo Nick, how much do you weigh?” and took my headphones off, knowing the guys would be hooting and hollering again. This was so fun. I played it off as whatever, but this was like having a second family - one that paid me to be a family member. Yeah, they were a little weird, but what family wasn’t weird? Ohana means family, and family means you get called ugly a few times for a joke. Besides, I knew I wasn’t ugly, so that helped.

That meeting changed me forever, once I got back and put my headphones on. As soon as I said that I was back, Nick started laughing. 

“See? She totally looks like it!” he insisted to the others.

“Looks like what, what did I miss?” I asked.

“It’s creepy. Trust me, don’t ask,” Cartoon Critic warned me.

I rolled my eyes. “Guys, I’m a woman on the internet. I can handle creepy. Though it’s not surprising at all that Nick is being the creepy one.”

“Oh come on, Dan’s gonna be the one outed in like six years for being into creepy shit,” Nick joked.

“Projection,” Dan noted humorously.

“I was just saying,” Nick continued. “That you look exactly like one of those ‘pick me’ girls that lets her like three boyfriends free-use her. And I’m not gonna apologize for it.”

My eyebrows lowered in slight confusion. Free use? Never heard of it. 

“See, what did I say, you pissed her off,” Cartoon Critic cut in. “Nick, you gotta learn to-”

“No no, I just don’t get it,” I clarified. “What’s free use?”

Silence, then a chorus of laughter met my ears. “What’s free use?” Matthew from This Movie Sucks repeated. “Come on, Ariel, you’re trolling us.”

“It’s pretty intuitive,” Dan continued.

“Well, I’m not getting it, so just tell me,” I flatly replied.

“Nah, this is a trick,” Nick replied swiftly. “I get it. Make me explain the burn so it just looks awkward on me. I ain’t falling for it.”

“No trick,” I said earnestly. “I just have no clue what free use is.”

“Wow,” Dan chuckled. “Okay, so - I’ll handle this one, Nick. Free use, is, uh… Wow, this is actually kind of hard.”

“It’s a sex thing, right?” I asked rhetorically. “Do you have a problem talking about sex to a girl, Daniel? I can recommend you a shrink.”

“Alright, alright, jeez,” Dan laughed. “Fine, you want blunt? It’s when a girl offers up her body to her male friends. Like, anytime, anywhere, just using her body. It’s not even about her pleasure, it’s like she’s a sex toy for her dude friends.”

“Or girl friends,” Nick cut in. “Or a boy can do it. Or, like, anyone.”

“Yeah, sorry, I wasn’t thinking of using inclusive fucking language to talk about Ariel getting free-used, dude,” Dan laughed.

It was like brain synapses were getting formed on the spot. I’d never felt so stupid in my life. How could I have never even conceived of this idea?? Getting free-used. Not even friends with benefits, just… getting used. Like a living sex toy. Under a desk giving a guy a blowjob while he’s just working or doing something else. Or even talking to a friend, with me sucking his cock being the most banal, normal thing in the world. Fuck. 

“See? You upset her,” Nick continued as I faded back into reality. 

“Me?!” Dan asked incredulously. “You were the one that said she looks like she enjoys it!! She asked me to explain it and I did.”

“Guys, I’m not upset,” I cut in, in a way softer voice than I normally used. I squeezed my legs together. I was so incredibly wet. I needed to log off soon and spend some quality time with my fingers. For a millisecond, I thought about lying, but… these guys were my family. I couldn’t lie to my family. “I honestly never even considered that could be a thing. That’s all.”

Matthew guffawed. “Wow Ariel, never? You talk a big game, but you are way more innocent than we thought you were.”

I breathed in and out. I couldn’t lie to my family. “Oh no Matthew,” I began in a low voice. “I’m uh… I think about sex a lot. Like, you want blunt? I have to get off like three times a day, minimum.”

In the webcam view, I saw Cartoon Critic drop his beer can.

“I don’t even watch porn anymore because it’s too tame for me. It’s also super manufactured, you know? If I’m gonna finger myself, it needs to be to something real. Something freaky. So this free-use thing is, uh… it’s kinda doing it for me.”

No one said anything for a bit. “Woah,” Nick eventually croaked. “That’s, uh… that’s wild.”

“That’s definitely a thing you just said,” Dan acknowledged. 

“I mean, whatever,” Cartoon Critic replied in this faux ‘playing it cool’ voice. “It’s biology. It’s normal. Everybody does it.”

“I never said I do it,” Nick cut in, and the other guys chuckled a bit. There was definitely a lull in the conversation after that. I guess I made it awkward by being blunt, but they literally joked about me enjoying it like a minute before, so like…? What, was I not allowed to admit to liking sex, but they could joke or probably even fantasize me being into it? Talk about a double standard.

That day I learned two important lessons. One, The Amazing Channel was still my second family, but like, the older family, the one that was out of touch. The one you can’t really have deep chats with, or they’ll think you’re being weird, despite their attempts to be cool and understanding. Two, I loved free use. Once the call was over, I was hornier than I’d ever remembered being. I looked up free use porn, I read free use stories, and my hand never left my pussy for close to two hours. If my brother ever texted me, I told him I had needs and to put those headphones to good use. I was discovering myself. I needed this.

***

My leg moved restlessly in class. I was debating raising my hand and asking Mr. Jefferson if I could go to the bathroom. I already did last period to quickly play with myself, but it wasn’t enough. It was like scratching a mosquito bite - it just made me need more. Three times a day was now a distant memory; it was five, minimum, often more. And at least two were at school. 

It was getting bad. Whenever I denied myself release for too long, I caught myself using my free hand to rub myself over my pants under the desk. Thank goodness none of my dumb teachers saw, they would just say I needed counseling or whatever. I knew better. I needed to be free-used.

Trouble was, by whom? The only people who already knew about free use in my life were older, and physically strangers. Yeah, we talked online, but they were kinda dorky and kinda creepy and, biggest hurdle, thought I was twenty-one. It was hot to finger myself thinking about an older guy taking me - my teachers, for instance, may have been dumb, but some of them were hot as fuck - but it was an idea. A fantasy. Only sexy because it wouldn’t happen. I could think about Mr. Jefferson’s cock all I wanted, but if the dude actually tried to seduce me, I would have genuinely reported the guy. Leave fantasies as fantasies, you know? Maybe someday if I met him in a grocery store after graduating… maybe. We’d have to see.

And The Amazing Channel? Nope. I wouldn’t tell the other creators about it, but after the call ended, Matthew ended up sending me a message, saying that if I ever wanted the free-use experience, he could show me a few things privately, but ‘only if I wanted, no pressure.’ Playing it cool. He had no idea I was still in high school. I couldn’t do that to him, or myself. I tried to let him down as easy as I could. It helped that I could say, “I can’t do anything long distance, it has to be in person,” and that seemed as reasonable as anything. 

So who did that leave? Any boy I crushed on was a no-no, both because I couldn’t just be free-used by a guy I wanted to date, and because I couldn’t even talk to those boys, let alone ask them to use my body as they pleased. I had a few distant friends, and I had boys drooling over me in one or two classes. It could be really easy to corner those drooling boys and give them the deal, but there were a few problems there. One, if things went south, “Ariel likes being free-used” would be an ugly rumor. Knowing how much our school hated women as much as early SNL did, I could have probably been suspended or something with a rumor like that. Two, it was a hassle and frankly kind of vulnerable to approach strangers and just be like, “Hi! You don’t know me at all, but you’re attracted to me. Let’s spend some time getting to know each other, and we’ll see if you still like me after, you know, actually getting to know me, or if you’ll get me to change. If it’s the latter, go fuck yourself. If it’s the former, great! I’ll then tell you how I’m not looking for a relationship and say I’m into being free-used, and we’ll have to be on the same page on both fronts if this is going to work. If not, I go to the next drooling boy and start again from square one.” Jesus. What a headache. I sighed, getting up from my English class and leaving, onto my next class.

The Media Gang was all that was left. They wouldn’t judge me, but they were virgins, almost definitely, and they didn’t even want to take charge during the morning announcements, let alone casual free-use sex. All this reflecting just culminated in me sulking, my restless leg reflecting my constant need to cum, sitting next to Greg as he worked.

He peered over at me briefly. “You look like shit,” he observed.

“Yeah, I feel like shit,” I admitted, then looked around the room. Raven was out, Harmony was taking a break listening to music, and Drew and Abe were diligently working, headphones on. 

“Well, if you wanted to say something, may as well,” Greg replied, focused on his work himself but with his headphones off. 

I nervously looked around. My heartbeat grew faster at the very idea of telling him. I learned very quickly not to be blunt, and even though I wasn’t always a fan of Greg’s attitude, he was still a dear friend that I didn’t want to lose. At the same time, I was going crazy. I needed to tell someone, even if they weren’t going to be the one to free-use me. 

“So, uh…” I began clumsily. “It’s really private stuff, if you get what I mean.”

Greg, uncharacteristically, looked around the room too. He looked back at me and gave me a muted smile. “We may as well be alone,” he confirmed after noting his surroundings. “Private, like, bad news, or private like, it’s about other people, or private like, you hooked up with a guy?”

“I guess mostly the third one?” I admitted. “But I didn’t hook up with a guy. But, um, do you ever… you know, hook up with people?”

“If you want the honest answer, I used to,” Greg admitted. He didn’t need to fake playing it cool. He just was relaxed and confident talking about it. I squeezed my legs together, remembering all the times I came to his topless beach trip pictures. “You know how Tiffany and I were kind of on-and-off?”

I nodded, flushing a little.

“Well, even when we were off, we were kind of friends with benefits. Ultimate compliment, I guess. Even when she didn’t want to be my girlfriend, she still wanted my-” He turned to look at me. “I mean… sorry, that’s crass.”

“Crass is okay. I can handle crass. Be crass,” I said a little too quickly. Wow, I was not acting as smoothly as I could have been.

He noticed. His eyes lingered on me for a bit, then he continued. “Okay, so, oversharing alert…” He glanced at me, but I said nothing, so he continued. “I’m pretty gifted down there. Tiff still wanted my dick after we broke up the first time, and it kinda became this complicated on-and-off thing where we kept going, ‘hey, if we’re having sex, may as well be boyfriend and girlfriend again.’ Then we remembered we had zero actual romantic feelings for each other.” He sat back and chuckled. “Every single time. We managed to forget like three or four times. So we just stopped trying to be a couple and, y’know, did it every few days or weeks or whatever. We actually only stopped a month ago. She’s seeing some new guy. Part of me is bummed out, but part of me is like, ‘yes, I can move on, I’m a free man,’ you know? It was like, I couldn’t actually have sex with anyone else as long as I was with her, even if we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend.”

I nodded, squeezing my legs together again. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“So, what’s your story? I mean, unless it changed, you don’t date. Did you just find some guy you want to keep on the down low?” I didn’t say anything, so he stopped working and turned to me with a cheeky grin. “If it’s private, I won’t make fun of you. The others will never know. It can just stay between us.”

I looked at him for a bit, nervously exhaling. “I can tell you, but… if I do, you have to promise that. And promise not to judge me. Even if it turns out you can’t help me out, you either don’t change how you treat me or I kill myself.”

“Damn, this sounds intense,” Greg muttered. “No need to get defensive. Just say it.” I paused for a long time, just facing the computer screen, and Greg’s eyes followed mine. He shrugged. “Or type it.”

I liked that idea more. I nodded slowly, then pulled up a blank word file. My fingertips landed on top of the keys, not hitting a single key yet, and Greg watched intently as my jaw trembled. I chuckled in nervousness and turned to him. “Don’t look as I’m typing,” I softly ordered. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

He shrugged and turned back to his computer, still working. I waited for a minute or so, making sure he truly was working, then started typing.

I was wondering if you wanted to help me. So, I have needs, and they’ve been growing lately. I really need someone to hook up with, but not a stranger who can get feelings or think I’m someone I’m not, then try to out me to the whole school if it turns bad. 

I want someone to use me. I don’t even want a friend with benefits. I want to be used, like someone’s personal sex toy. If you say yes, you can have me and use my body any time you want. Preferably, don’t even acknowledge it. Anytime we’re alone (and we can hang out whenever), just start touching me. I’ll always want it. And even if I don’t look like I want it, use me anyway.

Just let me know if you don’t want that. We can forget I ever said this. But if you say no and bring this up to anyone, I will jump out the fucking window.

Concise? Enh, could be better. If I had more time I would have written a shorter speech. Once I looked it over, I squeezed my eyes shut, poked Greg in the shoulder, then buried my head in my hands.

My pulse pounded in my ears. My pussy radiated heat, its needy pulse like a second heart. I didn’t dare look up, feeling the warmth and hearing the breathing from Greg, leaning in to read the paragraph. After an eternity and a half, I felt him reach forward and type something - couldn’t have been longer than a sentence - then move back, poking me in the shoulder in turn.

I slowly removed my face from my hands and looked at the screen, seeing three paragraphs… he wrote all that…? Oh, wait, they were my paragraphs. Duh. I looked at the bottom and saw he added four words.

sure lol, sounds fun ;)

I couldn’t help but start laughing when I read that. Not even like a ‘haha’ laugh, just like, the motions of a laugh but completely out of shock. Panic. I was having a panic attack. That was it.

Luckily, it was pretty minor, so I did my best to calm down, and quickly added an addendum.

Just for the record, go slow and be patient. I’m a virgin, and I’ve never done anything like this. I will probably make a few mistakes.

Greg watched as I typed this part, and it seemed to actually be the part that concerned him the most for whatever reason. He looked at me, not even attempting to hide the concerned confusion on his face, and started typing again.

youre a virgin but you want someone to just start touching you or fucking you with no warning? no offense but you dont even know your own body yet. you should prob have youre first time before doing this sex toy thing.

I glared at him for a bit, before putting my hands on the keyboard, never taking my eyes away from him as I typed.

your*

He grinned, but reached forward.

im serious.

I rolled my eyes. I thought boys were the ones to be too simplistic and black-and-white about sex, not the ones to make things complicated.

Okay then, during our first time I’ll light a candle. I don’t give a fuck who I lose my virginity to. Do you remember who you played your first video game with? It means the same thing to me.

It was his turn to roll his eyes.

im not being sentimental, dumbass. im saying that you need to know how to walk before you run. you need to know how sex works before you start breaking its rules. do you remember how bad you were when you played your first video game? imagine you played it on hard mode.

I had a steely face on, but even after he retracted his arms, I remained, digesting what he meant. I could feel him looking at me, so I reached my hands forward again.

So free-use sex is normal sex on hard mode, and I should have sex normally first?

He didn’t bother to reply via text. He just nodded. “Definitely,” he added, breaking the spell of us not talking. “Trust me, I’m not being sentimental. Future You is going to thank you. Otherwise, you’ll get confused, or miss some important cues, or think one thing is something when it’s actually another… Like, no offense, but just take it from a guy who’s actually been there before. You can’t go from zero to a hundred. That’s not me challenging you, that’s me saving you from getting confused and also from being…” He leaned in and whispered. “...bad at sex.” He leaned back. 

I whispered too, without leaning in. “How bad can I be if I’m just a toy and other people are the ones using me?”

“Trust me,” he said simply. “If you want me to show you the ropes, let’s just meet at my place. I can do tomorrow after school.”

I marveled at him. “You really are good at seeing this as just a transaction thing,” I commented as I closed the text file, my confession lost to the heavens like Firefly Season two. 

He shrugged and gestured to my computer. “You made your intentions clear, I guess,” he admitted. “Plus, this is basically like being with Tiff, except we’re actually being honest when we say there’s nothing romantic there.” He paused, then pointed at me with a serious expression, and I nodded. His expression softened. “Then yeah, it’s easy. The biggest thing is just getting you comfortable with it. Not the idea, the actual action. It needs to come second nature to you.”

I chuckled darkly. “I have a funny feeling it will.” 

Greg slowly grinned at me.

***

I never would have admitted this to him in a million years, but Greg was right. I was nervous as fuck walking into his house the next day. If I was a gambler, I would have bet he was a little nervous too, especially since we'd known each other for years and we were about to cross this line together. He was too proud to tell me, but I could also tell he was excited. I bet he wanted me for a while.

We sat in his room and made dumb small talk for a bit before we quieted down, looking at each other and chuckling like dummies. I couldn’t bring it up. I couldn’t be the one to bring it up. I wanted to, but couldn’t. 

“Alright, so, you want to be someone’s, you know…” Greg cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. I didn’t know if he was trying to hide it or not, but he had a boner. “Wow, this is harder than I thought.”

“So I can see,” I boldly joked, gesturing down to his crotch. “And it’s not anyone in particular. I just wanna be someone’s…” I shivered. “...sex toy.”

Greg was particularly interested in my first comment, following my eyes down to his bulge. He was definitely hard, and clearly not lying about being big. “Heh, yeah, may as well start with that,” he admitted, grabbing his bulge. “So, ever seen one in person?”

I shook my head no, staring right at it.

“Ever wanted to?” he asked, smiling hungrily.

I lowered an eyebrow. “What do you think, genius?” I asked sarcastically.

“I’m just trying to set the mood,” he said exasperatedly. “I already have to guide your ass through this. Now I gotta deal with attitude too.” He stood up. “Just tell me you wanna see it.”

I smiled, my sarcasm never leaving my face. “Yes, I want to see it.”

Greg, my friend for years, the guy that never knew I fingered myself to his social media posts, removed his pants and his underwear in one fell swoop. With less hesitation than I thought someone that nervous would have, he revealed his boner to me, bobbing right in front of my face.

Anytime it wasn’t bobbing, it was almost perfectly still, held in place, almost painfully hard. I hadn’t seen one in person until now, but his looked… impressive. A thick shaft leading up to the crown of his dick, a pinkish-purple head pulsating with need. “Huh,” I said out loud. “Cool.”

Greg laughed. “‘Cool,’” he repeated. “We’re going to have to work on what you say to a guy.”

Greg was never not going to be Greg. I was almost annoyed he was going to be the first one to get free access to me. Still, I couldn’t deny my heart was beating faster now that I got to see his dick. The smell of it was beginning to overpower my senses. I was going to get to fuck someone, and then I could be someone’s plaything. I wanted so badly to be a plaything. I wanted to be owned and used.

“So, should I do the same thing?” I clumsily asked. “I mean, you showed me yours…”

He chuckled condescendingly. “That’s the idea, Ariel.”

I gave him a look. “If you’re going to get to use me, you could at least be grateful,” I nearly barked. “You want this too. Cool it with the attitude.”

Against my expectations, he just widened his smile. “If you really want to be used, this attitude should turn you on,” he pointed out.

“Yeah well, it doesn’t,” I fired back. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Actually, support me instead of being condescending.”

“Alright, alright,” he soothed, holding his hands out in front of him. “Well then, I’ll try to give you the full treatment.” Without warning, he grabbed me by my waist and pulled me in close. “What’s the ruling on kisses?”

I hadn’t considered that, but my brain was being overwritten as I felt Greg’s warm hands on my sides. I had zero romantic attraction to the guy, especially since he proved he couldn’t even want me sexually without being a bit of a jerk, but the sexual energy in the air was still overwriting my brain. I could feel my hormones clouding my judgment in real time, and barely squeaked out: “Not on the lips.”

“Sounds like a party,” he murmured, before diving into my neck. As he closed the space against us, I felt his dick on my shirt. I knew guys got excited and their dicks started leaking, so thinking quick, I raised my shirt right as he started sucking on my neck. Greg saw it as an invitation and started grinding against my stomach. 

My eyes fluttered closed when Greg began sucking on my neck. I felt like I could float up into the air. If this was how it felt when a boy was kissing my neck, I was going to meet God when he fucked me. “Nnn…” I moaned without control, feeling one last thought crawl into my head. “Isn’t that going to leave marks?”

“I guess it will,” Greg simply answered. “You’re going to have to come up with some kind of story. Or…” He paused. “I guess you’ll tell whoever asks that some boy used your body and that it’s no more than you deserve.” As he said that, his hand flew up to my ass and squeezed it.

I shuddered. I felt myself leaking. My pussy was pulsing. Greg definitely had some kind of experience with this. “Fuck yes,” I moaned, losing control. “Use me, Greg, mark me up. I’ll tell everyone proudly that I’m just a free-use slut and a guy had his way with me.”

Greg chuckled, even with his tongue on me. “We’re definitely not taking this as slowly as I had planned,” he murmured. I didn’t care. I used my free hand to pop open my fly and move my pants down just enough, before taking his hand off of my ass and guiding it towards my pussy. Even despite what he had just said, Greg learned to go with the flow quite quickly, gently yet firmly tracing his middle finger over my slit. He wasn’t being rough and clueless. This was a guy that knew what he was doing, and he was going to use me.

I moaned, feeling his hand over my wet, nearly-aching pussy. After a few teasing movements, he looked me in the eye, moving his hand overtop of my panties… then inside. Greg was fingering me. He had full access to my pussy. Every movement of his made me nearly jerk my body in place, and my poor legs were giving out. After a feeble attempt to talk, I moved over and sat clumsily down, and before long afterwards, I was lying down on his bed, giving my legs a break. Greg was taking off my panties, looking intently at my pussy, fingering me while talking slowly.

“You’re quite the horny slut,” he began, his voice taking on this power I didn’t know his voice had. “Most free-use sluts try to remain quiet and lifeless, letting the guy use them casually.”

“I guess… I’m not like… other free-use sluts,” I breathed, trying to be defiant and not letting him win, even as my hormones overwhelmed me.

“I know,” he replied calmly. “I like it.” He turned to look me in the eyes, still fingering me, his own dick still bobbing. “But I’ve been pleasing you a lot, considering you’re the one who wants to be used for my pleasure. Give me a blowjob.”

I bit my lip, nodding. I gladly would have. I craved having a dick in my mouth badly - so many girls, and boys, did. At least I was being honest about wanting my classmates. I quickly got on my knees, studying the hard thick cock in front of me, all while Greg chuckled and sat back.

“Remember, you’re going to be giving a lot more blowjobs in the future, so you can savor it now, but be sure to figure out how to get into the groove quickly,” he instructed me. 

I nodded and experimentally licked the underside of his dick. It tasted like sweat and… something else. It wasn’t bad, just new. I licked again, then again, then licked it all the way from the base to the tip. Greg groaned, and I couldn’t help but smile. The dude talked a big game, but he was as easy as any other boy, and soon, I’d have a lot more experience pleasing them, as the group’s plaything.

I shuddered. Fuck. The group. What if I was just the free-use slut of the Media Gang? If any of the guys ever needed release, they’d just grab me, not even asking, and announce to the group that they were going to go cum down my throat and they’d ‘be back in a minute.’ That visual was so fucking hot. 

That thought kept running through my head as I opened my mouth, taking Greg’s cock in my mouth for the first time. I definitely did want to savor the moment. The taste of dick was, happily, instantly addictive. I was at my happiest just taking this dick in my mouth. Quickly, I intuitively realized that I should be curling my lips over my teeth - no guy wants the feeling of teeth on his dick - and after beginning to bob my head back and forth, I realized all of the things I should be doing. Where my mouth should go, how to breathe properly, everything.

Greg was moaning instantly. “Fuck… god damn!” he swore. “Okay, who did you blow before me?”

I took my mouth off of him. “I told you, no one,” I replied, grabbing his dick and jacking it off.

He winced. “I can definitely tell that’s the case with your handjobs - no seriously, ease up - but no virgin gives blowjobs like that.”

I shrugged and my eyes sparkled. “I guess that really just proves I was made to suck dick,” I replied in a teasingly innocent joke. Within seconds, my mouth was back on his dick, and less than a minute later, after showing off my skills, Greg was groaning, blowing his load into my mouth.

It was way harder to swallow as I went than I’d thought. The taste wasn’t too terrible, and I was happy to swallow it, but I just couldn’t. My cheeks ballooned and eventually, some of his spunk started leaking out of my mouth. I swallowed what I could, but the rest leaked down my face. My eyes watered. My chin was a mess. I was a cock-hungry slut that just made my friend cum.

“Holy shit…” he moaned, then looked at my face. He started to chuckle. “Fuck, hold on.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his phone, locking eyes with me. His semi-hard dick started to get hard again as he snapped a few pictures of my face. 

“Not even going to ask, huh?” I asked smugly.

“Welcome to being a free-use slut,” he replied with the same smugness.

I smiled. I had no doubt that if I told Greg not to, or to delete those pictures, he would. Plus, he was right. If I needed to grant permission first, I wasn’t being a free-use slut. But still… “Send those to me,” I told him. “I’m sure I can find a few people to send them to with enough time. In fact…” I grabbed his dick, now hard again, and started pumping it slowly, moving my face in close. “Do you want to take a few more pictures with me holding it like this?”

He shifted in place. “Well, I dunno if I want pictures of my actual dick. Y’know.”

I lowered an eyebrow. What a pussy. “Okay, what about if it was in my mouth?” I asked. “All they’d see is the shaft. You have to admit it would be hot, right…?”

Greg shook his head slowly, a smile forming on his face. “Wow, you’re way sluttier than I thought,” he admitted. “How the fuck did you hide this from everyone for so long?”

“I dunno,” I honestly admitted. “I need to cum like three times a day at least. I was gonna fucking explode sooner or later. So, blowjob pics, yay or nay?”

Greg laughed, readying the camera. “Yay,” he admitted. “Get to work, slut.”

***

Annoyingly, Greg wouldn’t fuck me that night. Something about having no condoms and not being on birth control made the guy stop, as if he couldn’t just pull out or something. So fucking annoying. Still, we took a lot of pictures, and he sent them to me shortly after I left, so that was a plus.

I had a lot of fun with those pictures later on that night. It felt kind of weird rubbing my pussy to myself, but I wasn’t really thinking about myself while I did it. It was how low I’d sank, the fact a cock was in my mouth, the cum on my face. It was hot as fuck. I now had picture evidence of me being a free-use slut. This was amazing.

While I was eating dinner by the TV, I tried asking my mother as casually as I could if I could start birth control. I made up a bunch of lies about regulating my hormones and making my period easier and all that, and I guess after going into too much detail, she put down her fork and insisted we’d go to the doctor if I just stopped talking. I just rolled my eyes, looking back at the TV. I did steal a quick glance at my brother and saw him give me a playfully disapproving face. I smiled and shrugged like we were sharing a joke. Dad wasn’t home, so luckily, I didn’t have to get The Talk from him - thank fuck. His last three Talks sucked. I learned way more about sex from blowing Greg than I ever did from my parents. Mostly, I learned that it was fucking awesome and that I needed to start taking birth control as soon as possible.