Be a good bitch and don't push your luck.

You decide to stick to your strengths, namely abject apologies and servile submissiveness. "Sorry, Reggie. I wasn't watching where I was going. I was uhm...thinking about chess." You wince at the cringe of your makeshift excuse, but to your surprise, Reggie's cold, cloudy countenance warms up with a sunny smile.

"Don't worry about it, Elliot. I never had you pegged for a 'chess' fan, but today is just full of pleasant surprises, isn't it? If Brad's okay with it, maybe I could teach you some moves later." Reggie continues down the hall and you feel an overwhelming sense of relief and a pang of curiosity about Reggie's acumen as a 'chess' tutor. Not that you plan to be some sissy slut of course. You still consider yourself straight...with an asterisk, but you have to admit it's certainly flattering to have bullies try to court you instead of shoving you into a locker...or trashcan...or toilet...or more awful, embarrassing places than you care to remember.

You are walking on cloud nine when you hear a familiar voice ask, "Uhm, hi, I'm Elliot...I'm mean, you're Elliot, but you know that...heh hurm. I'm Jared." Of course, you already know the blushing band beta blubbering at you. He had always tried to act like he and his friends were a notch or two above you on the bottom of the social ladder. He was right, of course, but apparently that seems to have shifted. You are tempted to give him a taste of his own medicine, but watching him flushed and flustered trying to talk to you is so amusing...and almost adorable.

"Jason is it? Nice to meet you. I've got to get to my next class, but maybe I'll see you in the halls later and you can tell me my name again." You flash a friendly smile and give him a little wink to leave him simmering in his own juices all day. No need to bully him when you can keep him guessing if you are flirting with him or fucking with him. He'll spend the rest of the day wondering if he should call himself 'Jason' from now on and if he really has a shot with Brad's bitch.

Your next class goes swimmingly. The Geometry teacher, Mr. Angle, treats you with patronizing politeness, which is actually a step up for you. Not constantly being on the lookout for bullies behind every desk leaves you the mental bandwith to focus, and to the entire class' surprise, not to mention your own, you are actually able to prove a complex theorem on the board. You hear murmurs of approval, and wonder if they are impressed with your brains, or checking out your butt. Either way, what a boost of confidence. When you get back to your desk, you find a note waiting for you. Instead of the usual **** threat or doodle of you sucking cock, it's a note reading, "Can you help tutor me sometime? XOXO Cindi ❤"

You resist the urge to turn around, not wanting your expression to give away exactly how gobsmacked you are. Instead, you play it cool for once in your life and leave her guessing for the time being. You aren't even sure if you are allowed to hang out with girls now that they are showing an interest, but at least you have a chance if you can get permission from Brad. You are awe struck by the sheer number of possibilities opening up before you, and even a chance to dream about a girl as hot as your sister's friend Cindi is a major step up for you.

The rest of your morning follows much the same suit. People you didn't even know you existed are calling you by your name, and bullies that used to call you every name in the book are giving you a wide berth. Free from the oppressive fear making you small and crushed all the time, your peers are even discovering you are almost likeable. No one is more shocked to find this out than you are, but it is starting to feel more and more natural.

Along with a small scrap of confidence and an easy going, approachable attitude, you are finding a rhythm you never suspected existed. Somewhere between a swagger and a seductive sway, you exude a erotic energy that isn't exactly masculine, but seems to pique curiosity among your classmates and quite a few of the faculty. You have to admit a certain level of curiosity yourself. Sure, you only made this arrangement to get Brad's protection, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy the perks along the way. If one of those perks is feeling your prick pulse in your panties as you ponder ways you can show Brad your 'gratitude' over lunch, that doesn't make you gay. It just adds another asterisk to your sexuality.

By the time you make it too lunch, you are actually looking forward to providing Brad's midday relief, and you find yourself hoping he is hungry for the 'snack' he mentioned this morning. You spot him surrounded by his football flunkies and cheerleading cult as always, and you feel your heart in your chest as you walk up to him and say,