The Monster and the Masochist

1. Theo Fairview

Alexa Play: A Dark Heart Silhouette by Vendetta Red

He was going to touch me again.

I knew he was.

Dread began to stir in my gut as I followed Father Samwell through the halls of St. Andrew’s Catholic school.

My hand was throbbing from punching that bitch Kenny Samuels in the face for calling my brother a faggot, but the pain was a comfort.

It helped ground me as the familiar feeling of helplessness churned in my gut. The halls slowly emptied as we walked. Kids filed into their respective classes, and I could hear them whispering to each other as they stared.

‘Theo’s in trouble again.’

‘What’d she do this time?’

‘Why doesn’t she just wear the girl’s uniform?’

‘Dyke.’

I ignored them. They were the least of my worries.

The truth was, they were right. I did this to myself.

I’d known this morning that I should have just worn the skirt, but it’d been lying there on my bed, mocking me.

I hated it.

I had always hated skirts and dresses and crap. They just never felt like me. I hated them even more now that I’d learned just how exposed they made me to the prying eyes of monsters disguised as men.

I had Father Samwell to thank for those lessons.

So, I caved and pulled on the uniform pants my dad had bought for me, even though he knew it was against school rules.

He’d told me that the rules weren’t inclusive, and I shouldn’t have to wear something I didn’t feel comfortable in.

He’d had multiple meetings with Father Samwell about making an exception in the uniform policy for me, but it didn’t seem to matter.

I was still always punished for it.

“This way, Theodora,” Father Samwell said–like I didn’t already know the way to my own personal hell.

We passed the school’s reception desk, and the administrative assistant smiled at him adoringly as we passed.

Her expression darkened, of course, when her eyes landed on me.

“Detention again, Miss Fairview?” she sneered as we passed, and I made a show of rolling my eyes and shoving my hands into my pockets.

“Looks like it,” I muttered. She just tutted her tongue in a condescending way that made me want to punch her in the face, too.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I toyed with the tiny Q-Tip I always carried with me.

After my first… detention with Father Samwell, I’d started having pretty bad nightmares. I, of course, couldn’t tell my dad what they were about, so when I woke him up with my cries every night, he started bringing me Q-Tips.

“A… Q-tip?” I’d asked incredulously, and he almost looked offended.

“It’s obviously a magic wand, Theo, don’t be ridiculous.”

I wasn’t exactly one to giggle, but the matter-of-fact way he claimed this household ear-cleaner was magic had made my lip twitch.

As silly as it was, it kind of worked. My dad made me wave it, and I had to think of three things that made me happy.

Usually, it was enough to chase away the bad dreams and allow me to go back to sleep.

But… I wasn’t dreaming now.

This was all very real, and not even my magic Q-Tip could save me.

“Hold all my calls, Margaret. Theodora and I have some work to do. We’re not to be interrupted,” Samwell said as he unlocked the door to his office.

“Of course, Father,” the receptionist replied as I followed him into the small room.

He waited for me to pass before closing the door behind him.

The trembling started as the scent of the space overwhelmed me. He wore this nasty, musky cologne, and it clung to the white brick walls like some sort of mildew.

His office was modest. He had his degrees framed and hung, and there was a large window behind his standard-issue desk.

I knew better than to sit in one of the chairs facing the desk. I wouldn’t be sitting again for a long time.

There was the bone-chilling click of the door’s lock mechanism catching, and he sealed us in together.

I stared forward, with my hands still fisted in my pockets. If I squeezed hard enough, it made my injured hand throb, and it gave me something to focus on besides the wild beat of my heart.

“Theodora, tsk, tsk, tsk… What are we going to do with you?”

He was so close behind me, I could feel the heat of his body against my back.

All the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I forced myself not to step away from him.

When I didn’t respond, he sighed and brushed past me. I watched him cross the office and round his desk.

Father Samwell always wore a suit, and his grey hair was coiffed in a no-nonsense style.

However, with his thin lips and his black eyes, he was almost reptilian in nature. He reminded me of a lizard, or some sort of great snake. He both revolted me and terrified me.

I hated him.

He went to work closing the blinds, cutting out the bright sunlight, and leaving us in the shadows.

“You assaulted a student,” he said, but I just glared at him as he bent down to open the bottom drawer of his desk.

I knew what was in that drawer.

I swallowed.

“Not only that, you’re in pants. Again. You know that all girls here at St. Andrews are expected to wear the female uniform.”

“My dad bought me these. He said your rules aren’t inclusive, and I should be able to wear what makes me feel comfortable.”

Father Samwell glanced up at me, his dark eyes shining with a sickening excitement.

“Ah, yes. Your father. The renowned George Fairview. Silent Hollow’s resident mortician. We’ve had several discussions about this. Rules are rules, Theodora. I’ve told your father that if he has a problem with the uniform policy, he’s more than welcome to transfer you to another school.”

I grit my teeth.

He’d tried.

There was a waitlist to get into Silent Hollow’s public sector, and with my track record of starting fights, the other schools in our district hadn’t been willing to take me.

Besides, I couldn’t leave Ryan. He was constantly getting bullied. He needed me to look out for him.

“Speaking of your father… I’ve been very generous, recommending his services to my church’s patrons. What a shame it would be if I were to let everyone know that he is encouraging homosexual behavior in his household. I wonder what would happen to Fairview funerals if I withdrew my support?”

Anxiety shot through me at his threat. I didn’t know the details of how my father ran his business, but I knew a great deal of his clients were members of Father Samwell’s church.

He was a prominent religious figure in Silent Hollow, and my dad relied on their recommendations for much of his business.

My dad put his heart and soul into Fairview. I couldn’t be the reason he lost business. I already gave him enough trouble as it was with my constant fighting.

In my defense, I didn’t start fights. I just finished them.

It was always self-defense, or in Ryan’s defense, like today.

None of that mattered, though.

The fact was, Father Samwell had the power to destroy my family, and it honestly scared the shit out of me.

He was this dirty, dragon-like creature, crouching over my life, threatening to tear apart everything I knew and loved. I was helpless against him.

Small.

Weak.

Defenseless.

It was the only reason I allowed him to do what he did to me.

It was the reason I never told anybody, either.

Father Samwell straightened up, pulling out a blue plaid skirt and a scuffed pair of black high-heeled shoes.

Slowly, he approached me, handing me the items with a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Put them on,” he said, his voice now low and soft.

I stared at the skirt and the shoes for a breath, doing my best to force myself to stop trembling.

“Now, Theodora.”

Meeting his eyes, I let him see how much I hated him before finally taking my hands out of my pockets.

I took the skirt and went to work putting it on.

He watched me as I stepped out of the pants. I did my best to ignore the burning shame of his gaze as he took in my exposed legs.

As quickly as I could, I pulled the skirt on before taking the heels next.

“Good. That’s good, Theodora,” he hummed, his voice turning husky as I slipped my feet into the pumps.

“There.” He smiled at me when I was finished. Leaning back on his desk, he looked me up and down, biting his lip as he took me in.

This was how it always went.

I would change, and he would stare for a while as I stood there in silence, hating the way my cheeks burned.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

Hatred and anger coursed through me as I forced myself to obey.

I turned slowly in a circle before him, trying to tune out the heavy pattern of his breath.

“You’re getting much better at managing the heels,” he said, as if I should be proud of that fact. “Give me a few practice laps.”

Gritting my teeth, I walked from one end of the office to the other before stopping again in the middle.

My ankles didn’t even wobble. The first time he’d made me do this, I’d tripped.

I’d been punished for that.

I didn’t trip anymore.

“Very good, Theodora. See? You’re a lady, and now you look like one, too.”

Forcing back the urge to tell him to go fuck himself, I focused on the snake plant he kept in the corner of his office and waited for his next instruction.

At least when he was ordering me around, he wasn’t touching me.

He stared at me again for what felt like an hour but was probably only a few minutes, then he stood up and came closer.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe.

My scalp tingled as he reached forward and brushed my hair out of my face. It was so disgustingly tender.

I hated it.

“So pretty,” he whispered. “Let’s straighten this out a bit.”

His hands traced down my body until his fingers were toying with the hem of the skirt.

I swallowed as he tugged on the material, his fingers brushing against my bare thighs.

He took his time doing this.

My entire body was humming with fear and revulsion as he gently ran his fingers up and down my legs, just underneath the hem of the skirt.

“So docile… See? If you behaved like this all the time, you would be much happier, Theodora,” he cooed, and he kissed the side of my head. He inhaled, and I crushed my eyes shut harder, pretending I was anywhere else but here.

He always took his time with this part, and it somehow made it worse. I knew where those fingers of his were going to end up, and I always wished he would just get it over with, but I think he liked this part the most.

The anticipation.

How scared I clearly was and how much I was dreading it.

He liked to make me shake.

Finally, after several more sickening strokes, he crossed that final line, and to keep myself from outwardly reacting, I bit my tongue so hard I tasted metal.

Blood pooled in the back of my throat as I felt his hot, disgusting breath on my skin, and I swallowed the rush of bile that flooded my mouth.

“There we go, Theodora. I’m doing this for your own good. If we do this enough times, you’ll learn that this is where you’re meant to be. You need to learn that a woman is meant to lie with a man. It’s the word of God.”

My first instinct was always to try to block it out.

On reflex, I would attempt to burrow deep into my mind and try to remember the trick my dad had taught me to chase away the monsters in my nightmares.

Three good things.

Three good things…

But… the issue was, Father Samwell was trying to teach me a lesson.

I was supposed to like this, and he made it almost impossible for me to pretend he wasn’t there.

So, instead of thinking of three good things, I always disappeared into my own mind, floating alone in a sea of nothing while I waited for it to end.

Once he was done with me, he looked up like he always did, but I refused to meet his gaze. I stared at the snake plant in the corner of his office, not wanting to see the horrifying, hard bulge I knew would be straining against the crotch of his pants.

“Such a naughty girl, Theodora,” he cooed, and I clenched my fists, willing the burning hot tears that had gathered in my eyes not to fall.

He released me before slowly getting to his feet and retreating to lean on the edge of his desk.

This next part sucked, but it was manageable because at least he wasn’t touching me anymore.

“How long should we have you stand for today?”

He wasn’t actually asking me, so I didn’t bother answering.

He made a show of checking his watch.

“Well, it’ll be lunch time soon. How about we go until four? I’ll send you home with a note, letting your father know why you’re late.”

I remained silent, already steeling myself for the next few hours I would need to endure standing here in these fucking heels.

“Theodora, you’re very lucky I’m willing to just give you detention. Assaulting another student is grounds for expulsion. I’m sure you don’t want to cause that kind of trouble for your father.”

His voice grew harsh as he settled heavily into the large leather seat behind his desk. My throat rolled as I choked back another rush of bile.

Three good things… Please, for the love of fuck, think of something good….

My throat was tight, and to my horror, more tears welled in my eyes as I was forced to stand there and pretend something horrible hadn’t just happened.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Do you think standing until four seems like a fair punishment for assaulting another student? Answer me,” he grunted, his voice thick and breathy.

Forcing myself to swallow back my tears, I met his gaze dead on.

I hated him. I hated him, but I hated myself more.

Maybe if I weren’t so weak, he wouldn’t have chosen me…

But I was weak.

A weak, pathetic little freak that could barely stand up for her own brother, let alone herself.

I deserved this.

“Yes, Father,” I whispered, and he let out a ragged breath, as if my submission fed some sick part of him that even the devil himself wouldn’t condone.

“You look so pretty in those heels, Theodora,” he grunted.

This time, I didn’t respond.

I just stood there, trying to think of three good things.

But I couldn’t come up with a single one.