Modern Monsters

Morris the Deertaur

Female Reader x Male Monster

There's this rigidity that I've always hated in people. It's the sort of thing you'd see in Charles Dickens type movies and shows. Stiff upper lips, flared nostrils, a yardstick up the ass, and a crooked eyebrow. I had a couple of relatives that were like that, and they were never my favorite people. They were the ones who told me everything I did wasn't good enough. I didn't sit right, I didn't eat right, I didn't walk like a lady.

Am I a bad person for being grateful they're dead? Sure, it's sad when family dies. But is it really when they did nothing to help you or your self-esteem? My grandmother had always cultivated that air around herself. No matter what I did, it was never, ever, good enough for her. Stiff upper lip and yardstick up the ass until she died. Her last words to me when I went to the hospital were to tell me my hair color wasn't fooling anybody. It was easy for me to understand why my mom got knocked-up at eighteen and ran away with my hippy loft-living father when she got the chance.

Well, enough with my history. The reason I bring it up is because of my history professor at school. Professor Barnum looks like he'd be a cool guy. He's a deer minotaur with antlers jutting out from the top of his head. His fur is dark brown and grows bushy around his neck and chest. I had thought, when I signed up for the class, I would be getting an interesting experience. Instead, I am hit hard in the memory gut.

Professor Barnum is just as rigid and judgemental as my grandmother. Nothing any of us did is good enough for him. Our papers receive harsh critics. If we hand write anything, he will look at it and shake his head. I feel like my grandmother has possessed this poor young man after she died just so she can continue to torment me.

Although, I can't deny that Professor Barnum is a very good teacher. I've learned a lot from him, even if he does aggravate the living shit out of me. He's got a good body too, and I've heard more than one person whisper compliments about his ass at one time or another. But his attitude makes everything seem like he is 'meh.'

His class is tough too, so me and a few others have formed a study group. We share notes and everything from class and combine all we have into a massive document we can all access. There are some nights we have to beg Mr. Kuwahara, the librarian, to let us stay late in order to get all our work done.

There is one lucky day we are able to leave early, so we all decide to go out and eat and have a good time.

"Look at this," one of the guys says as he whips out a business card. "I went to a toy store the other day, and I had to take one of these." He passes it along the table.

"A toy store?" I ask, looking up from my dumplings and noodles.

He nods. "You know?" He then chuckles. "A toy store!"

It doesn't really click for me until the card is passed over to me.

"I didn't realize phone sex was still a thing," one of the other members of the study group laughs.

I look over the card, just as surprised. It really isn't something you hear about in this day and age anymore! After all, with the internet and everything it can provide, is phone sex really that popular a draw for people?

"I thought we could give it a try," the guy says.

My eyes go a little bit wide. "Why?"

"Just to see! I mean, how good can it possibly be?" He snorts.

"That's a real person, though," I reply. "Not some joke or automated system. You're going to call a real person and have a laugh?"

He rolls his eyes. "They're a phone sex operator. They know what they're getting into."