FICTION! "THE PRICK"
Last night I read a little story I wrote last weekend for “Straight Girls,” a new monthly at KGB ran by my friends Riley Mac and Montana James Thomas. I think it’s better read aloud but Riley wanted to send it to a friend and told me not to be precious about my writing (am I ever?!) so I’m sharing (an unedited version) here. It’s about the dangers of peptide injections…
THE PRICK
She thought the vitamins would arrive in a little vial Substance style, and was disturbed to find that she would have to dissolve the chalky powder herself—like some kind of roadside junky desperate for eternal youth. She hadn’t handled a needle since that one time in highschool when her bestie was too drunk to administer her own insulin. The spike was short and thin and slid into her friend’s bouncy flesh easily, but this time it was her who would be feeling the prick.
A few hours later, a small green and purple ring had formed around the injection site, evidence that her anti-aging journey was underway. She could feel it. Of course it was too early for the peptides to be working, but she felt stronger, more confident. Her pilates instructor said she was glowing, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she stripped down in the Equinox change room without hiding her breasts.
It wasn’t that she needed the supplements. Sure, her metabolism wasn’t as fast as it used to be and her crows feet seemed to be immune to whatever knockoff version of Botox the Russian injector pumped into her face every three months. But she took care of herself for the most part. She ate small portions, worked out, and gobbled handfuls of vitamin C, D3, NAC, biotin, fish oil pills, probiotics, and collagen supplements.
In other words, she was into wellness. She steamed three times a week, did acupuncture for her TMJ, she even tried cupping once, mostly because liked how it looked but still. She was a modern woman. So when she first saw a TikTok video of a suspiciously muscular man evangelizing about the benefits of whatever peptide was trending that week she was interested. But it wasn’t until after that weird morning sex, when Todd told her that injecting NAD would help her get rid of the cellulite on her butt cheeks, that she was fully convinced by the magic of amino acids or whatever it was that he sold her. It was his negging that got her hooked.
Todd wasn’t the most straight forward guy. He was hot, sure, but he was so sarcastic all of the time. She never knew if he was making a joke or being totally honest. But it wasn't her first time hanging out with a guy like that. Usually it just meant that he was a little insecure, or his dad was an asshole or something. Whatever the reason, Todd’s “humor” made it so she wasn’t sure if he actually ordered the Peptides off of some website Joe Rogan recommended, or from his friend who used to work at Erewhon. He wasn’t actually the type to listen to three hour long interviews with Mark Zuckerberg, was he? Either way it didn’t really matter to her. Todd was just another juiced up six-pack wielding finance guy who made her feel just insecure enough to fuck him.
A few days after her first dose, it was time for another injection. No nerves. No bruising. And even though it was physically impossible, she could feel the room temperature liquid pumping up through her front torso and back down through her spine. Her sacral chakra was opening. Her legs were trembling. She was getting—horny?
She could ask Todd to come over, but usually he texted first, and she couldn’t handle any rejection right now. She pulled down her Alo leggings and looked at her ass in the mirror. It was a little pebbly, sure, that was normal, right? And since when was it okay for men to be commenting on women’s bodies like that? That was so MAGA of him. Maybe he did listen to Rogan. What was that pod even about? Fake mass shootings? No, that was the other guy. She started typing. Zuckerberg on Rogan. 5 million views? She clicked on the little box and was surprised to find that there were no marks to denote the highlights like on Pornhub—not that she watched porn that often, really.
Rogan’s head is shaped like a literal penis, she thought. And who cares about Zuckerberg’s new era. How is he actually going to get rid of the fact checkers on Facebook? This guy is literally just another Elon wannabe, without the shitty hair plugs. Actually, Zucks’ copper curls were looking better than usual, she thought. They were vibrant and bouncy and complemented his skin tone nicely. She adjusted her seat and fast forwarded the video.
She wondered what peptides he was taking. Probably testosterone and some other shit she’d never even heard of. God she was so horny. “It’s another thing to say that masculinity is bad,” he droned. She remembered his jiu jitsu and the fourth of July photos of him shredding on his hydrofoil. Sure, he was ripped, but he was such an autistic dork. She wondered if he ever cheated on his wife. What billionaire wouldn’t? He was probably having freak-offs on the side.
“I’m surrounded by girls and women,” he said softly. She imagined him naked. Surrounded. She was getting—wet? “Masculine energy is good.” She wondered if, like Todd, Zucks’ muscles glistened with sweat when he did deadlifts at the gym. Her pussy ached. Zuck continued. “I think having a culture that celebrates aggression a bit more has its own merits.” Now she was imagining him tackling her, Jiu Jitsu style. Naked. Fingers slid inside her Alo leggings. “We need more testosterone in the corporate world.”
She’d never been more turned on. “Martial arts is great. I love having a thing I can do with my guy friends. Just beating each other a bit.” Her fingers were working faster now. Was she really masturbating to Mark Zuckerberg? She couldn't stop. It was happening. Yesss!!!!! she shuddered as she searched for his big green eyes, but all she could see was an endless black abyss.