It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was supposed to have just been a quick encounter behind the country restaurant. Maybe a handy-J, maybe a blow job. If I was feeling particularly generous I might have even gotten Blondie’s phone number and kept in touch afterward. It most certainly was not supposed to kick off the series of life-changing events that I’m about to tell you about here.

Before we get into the story, let me tell you little about myself: My name is Daecon. Rhymes with Bacon. Daecon Doe. It’s an odd name, I am aware, but it fits me because I am an odd person. My last name came from the fact that I was unceremoniously dumped at an orphanage at a small church as an infant, and nobody knows where I came from. The typical name given to people whose names are not known is John (or Jane) Doe, but I escaped the banality of such a boring name by luck: Father Dion, the pastor at the church and the man who ran the orphanage, told me that the only thing left with me was a piece of paper, and written on that paper was the request that I be called Daecon. No reason for this request was given. No ‘Please name him after his father’ or anything like that: Just this weird request to name me Daecon. No last name was provided in the note, and so I was given a combination of the weird and the anonymous. Daecon Doe.

So that’s the story of my odd name. As for my odd self, well, I’m just different. I’m different in the physical sense as well as personality wise. Let’s start with the physical, since that’s the most obvious bit.

My hair is naturally snow white, and I mean all of it: Head, eyebrows, arm and leg hair, armpit hair, and yes, even my ‘Down There’ hair. Don't let that picture there fool you: I dye my hair. I'll explain that in a few paragraphs, but just know that every hair on my body is as white as the driven snow. It always has been. I am not albino though: My hair may be white, but my skin is rather dark and my eyes are not pink. In fact, my eyes are another of my odd features, perhaps even odder than my hair. My right iris is a warm golden colour, my left one is a cold silver hue, and both of them are ringed with a dark red halo.

I also have pointy ears. Just picture ‘elf ears’, or, if you’re old or nerdy enough, ‘Spock ears’.  Not only that, but I can swing them around in order to hear better, just like a cat can. Other kids made fun of me for these ears, so I grew my white hair long to cover them - which, kids being kids, only resulted in them picking on my hair, but that’s another story.

Finally, I have pointy teeth. Not quite ‘Dracula’ pointy, but my canines are much more pronounced than anybody I’ve ever seen, except maybe Father Dion. His are large as well, though not quite as large as mine. I once asked him about it and he said that these were ‘throwback’ genes, dating back to the caveman days. I don’t know how true that is, but I thought that it was kind of cool.

Speaking of things that I think are cool, this seems like a good segue into the other odd thing about me: My personality. I’m weird. I know I’m weird. I don’t much care for people (probably due to the bullying I endured) and am much more comfortable around animals. Sometimes I feel as though they understand me, and I am pretty sure I can understand them. I’m also a big-time computer nerd. In my solitude, hiding away from the other kids, I taught myself all about computers. I could hack into the most secure systems in minutes, and were I a shitty person I would have done so, but just because I’m weird doesn’t make me a dick. I may be an asshole, but I do have my morals. I always tried to keep my hacking on the benevolent side, trying to do good (or at least a bare minimum of harm). I kind of considered myself to be a silent superhero, unleashing my prodigious talents against scammers and E-criminals the world over.

Naturally, these odd features and habits made me the target of bullies when I was young. Let me make something perfectly clear right here: Kids are assholes. Sure, little Kevin or Karen will appear all cute and innocent when an adult is present, but the moment the adult leaves the room they become monsters. They will seize on anything that makes any kid a little different, and they will run with it. Even the weaker kids, in an attempt to appear less weak or to try to curry some protection from their superiors (or perhaps to divert the attention of those superiors from their own weaknesses) will latch onto stronger kids and join them in tormenting any other kids they see as weak or weird.

Since I had so many things that made me different the kids had a field day with me.  At first it was limited to teasing and taunting, with nothing being hurt but my feelings, but over time things started to get violent. The older the group of us got the more frequent these violent confrontations would become as the others tried to establish their pecking order (and it was clear that I was to be at the bottom). Poking and prodding became slapping and punching. Father Dion tried to put a stop to it, but he couldn’t be everywhere and the moment his back was turned they’d get even nastier. It got worse and worse, until, inexplicably, it stopped. I’d like to think that it was because the others had found their hearts, but it was more likely because in my teens I went through a serious growth spurt and towered over them. I was over 183cm (six feet) tall by the age of thirteen, and hit 203cm (6’8”) by age 18. I never had any problems staying in shape, either. I am naturally lean and muscular, and, though I say it myself, I am strong and quick as well. Whatever the reason, the others just stopped picking on me, which was a relief. It was also a curse because when they left me alone they literally left me alone, but I took advantage of the loneliness to hone my computer skills. Those skills would end up helping me become a billionaire before I was twenty years old. I did it honestly, too: When cryptocurrency was first becoming a thing I set all my spare computers to work “mining” those digital coins. I amassed tens of thousands of them, but they were nearly worthless so I forgot about them and just left the computers running. Then crypto took off, the “coins” became worth tens of thousands of dollars each, and I was rolling in dough.

As I grew out of my teens and into a young adult I became… well, hell, this is going to sound like I’m arrogant, but there is no other way to put it: I became hot. Those features that the other kids picked on when I was young matured into a combination that made me very attractive. I was wealthy, tall, with a lean-muscular build, exotic hair and eyes… In fact it was so intriguing that I got tired of people fawning over my features and so I hid them. I dyed that white hair a brilliant blue (hey, I still wanted to be weird, but I wanted to be weird on my own terms) and I covered up my eyes with some plain blue contacts. The ears I could do nothing about except to keep my long hair and try to hide them. And still, the women just couldn’t get enough of me.

That brings about the final, and probably one of the most important things you should know about me: While the ladies were lining up to get into my pants, I had no interest in getting into theirs. You see, I am gay. Like, sooooper duper gay. Gold star, baby! I’ve known this since my first thought, and I never did anything to hide it. Probably didn't help me with the bullies, but fuck them. I’m here, I’m queer, but don’t get used to it, because once I’ve had you I’m probably just gonna go on looking for the next conquest. I modeled my dating habits using the Pokemon philosophy: Gotta catch ‘em all!

And it is exactly that promiscuity that got me into the mess I now find myself in.