This Gender Reversed World Ain’t for Me (RSM)

Valeria

Oh, poor wretched women who've had nothing but the life of solitude to choose.

With the current male-to-female ratio, the math was grim enough to make even the most optimistic woman's blood freeze.

If you factored in what little remained of normal human pair-bonding instincts, you'd find that somewhere between four and six percent of women would ever experience a relationship with a man.

Not marriage. Not even a long-term partnership. Just any kind of romantic encounter, however brief.

Actual marriage or long-term commitment with a man? The statistics weren't nearly as favorable. Which left roughly slightly over ninety percent of women destined for a life of solitude, with only themselves and the company of other women for comfort.

It was completely normal for an average woman to decide, somewhere in her mid twenties, that it was simply not going to happen to her.

Imagine what such desperation could make one do.

Valeria had personally overseen cases of suicide of two middle-aged women, both living alone. It was quite commonplace; so common that these kinds of situations were labeled as low priority. Women undergoing extreme surgery and gender alteration just to be able to successfully impersonate a man, making a career out of their new identity. And many women lapped up that fantasy, that falsehood, that fake mask.

On the other side of the coin, humans were adaptive creatures. Many women could build a genuinely good life around that emptiness. One could say it gave them their own space to explore other things, a freedom to fully express themselves without needing a man.

In other words, if a woman could accept her reality and come to love the companionship of other women, then the rest would flow along well enough.

But if you're unable to accept your reality, then the result would be an endless nightmare.

In that sense, it was exactly why most women wouldn't do anything extreme to secure a man. It wasn't a competition, as the vast majority of this minority of men were, in fact, not even interested in a life of romance with a woman.

'Where did it go wrong, exactly?'

They would be fine being single until the day they die, and nothing was going to change that.

Over the long, torturous years, women learned to accept and live with that. It was basic survival. If your brain kept pumping out longing for something with a ninety-six percent failure rate, you're not likely to last long. So it was only natural that women redirected that longing into career's obsession, friendships, family, and community life.

Valeria also knew that that desire never disappeared from women, even as got older, or settled down for a peaceful life with no male companionship in the picture.

While a lot of them hid it fairly well, she could recognize when women were yearning to connect with someone that didn't come in a pink envelope, to not only hear but to experience the emotions, passion, and lust. It was a dormant beast that lay quietly in all of them, waiting for an opening, for any chance.

Valeria prayed that there'll never come a time where that very same beast collectively emerged in unison.

It didn't take a genius to guess what would happen if that occurred.

"......"

"You're thinking about something really complicated right now, aren't you?"

"Huh?" She glanced up to see that the subject of her musings was looking straight at her. It was uncanny how aware Damien was of people's behavior, although right now his insight was causing Valeria no small amount of consternation, so she couldn't admit to appreciating that perceptive nature of his.

"You've got that face when you're lost deep inside your head." Damien propped his cheek with his elbow, eyes regarding her curiously, black hair disheveled and in perfect disarray.

"I, ah..." It was useless to keep hiding. There was no point in doing so anymore, so Valeria gave him a small shrug. "Yeah, a little."

"Hmmm?" Damien stirred the stirrer stick in his coffee, eyebrows quirking up and down playfully. "Are you perhaps hiding some... dark secrets? A past that you'd rather bury and pretend does not exist?"

He even leaned in to whisper excitedly.

"None of that." She quickly rejected the implication, raising her hands to show how clean they were.

"Alright."

The amusement in Damien's eyes persisted and was joined by a knowing smile, as if he was trying to see through her façade. And to top it all off, he was the one sitting there all smug and smiling and heaving out an amused breath like he wasn't the source of all of her distress and worries at the moment.

"Y-You..."

'Don't look at me like that...'

Valeria inwardly lamented. That was exactly what she was fearing for the collective mental health of women. A young man like him might not have a clue, might not be doing it on purpose, but he was precisely stabbing right at all the most vulnerable parts of a woman's psyche, like a thousand needles hitting the same nerve.

"I'm just messing with you, Val." He'd either call her Val or Officer. Officer Valeria was too stiff and formal. She quite liked Val. "Though I wouldn't say no to some interesting stories if you're willing to share."

"Ummmm...."

She grimaced at her reflection rippling inside the blackness of the hot brew. Her job as a police officer was less exciting than it sounded.

In fact, it was usually boring. Nothing major ever happened around here, which made her regular, safe shifts a bit dull, but, better dull than any real action.

"Well... there was this one time, umh, when I caught two women g-going at it in a parking lot. It, uhh... they were both fairly young, they couldn't have been above eighteen and, a-anyway... after a verbal warning and an exchange of license numbers and what not, they still proceeded t-to continue and... I, er, had to leave before it escalated."

"... Oh." Damien blinked, a huff of laughter leaving him. "Is it that common?"

"Quite, I'd say." Valeria admitted. "A lot more common than you might think."

He nodded, genuinely thinking about it for a moment before opening his mouth. "What about men?"

"W-What about them?"

"You ever caught two men in a similar situation?"

Valeria panicked, shaking her head as if he'd just said the most sacrilegious of things. "That would never, EVER happen! It's illegal! M-Men can't do it with another man, that's the rule!"

It was the great unspoken hypocrisy of their era. Women were allowed to find love in each other's arms because society needed them not to go insane. But a man doing the same? That was treated like burning food during a famine. It simply couldn't and shouldn't happen.

"......"

Damien's eyes splayed wide open in surprise for a moment, then slanted down as he closed his eyes in an exaggerated display of contemplation. "I mean, that makes sense."

"Uh." Valeria breathed a sigh of relief, calming herself down. "I-It does. Men shouldn't, anyway, even if they could—but they don't! They definitely don't! So..."

"Just out of curiosity, what would happen to a man doing the same?"

She actually felt physically sick at that. "He'd get locked away, stripped of his rights, and sent for immediate re-education until he's deemed 'fixed' and 'normal' once more, then placed under constant monitoring, and be assigned a woman to reprocreate with until a son is born from that union."

"... Isn't that a little extreme?"

"Men having intercourse with other men? N-Not at all, if anything I find it deplorable and absolutely revolting that even the idea could have been brought forth. Sickening. Fiendish." Then her eyes went so wide open that it seemed to want to escape her skull. "Wait, you're not having those weird... p-preferences, are you?"

She'd likely quit her job and become a lesbian herself if that were true.

"I'm not into men, Val." He replied coolly. "Just curious."

"Then, that's good."

Valeria felt like there was an axe hanging above her head. It was a weird thing, to talk about with a man.

A very sensitive topic, especially because it concerned men. She was actually surprised that she managed to talk with him so casually and not have any obvious symptoms of anxiety or regret.

"I'm surprised the situation is as it is, though..." Damien mumbled.

"Huh, what?"

"Nothing." He smiled, finishing the last of his drink.

"......"

Valeria took her phone out after a beat of silence, deciding to distract herself with whatever. She needed a break from this conversation.

She needed to recalibrate.

However, Damien's next question almost made her drop her phone.

"Can I drive?" He asked, looking at her with a hopeful glint in his silver eyes.

"N-No!" She refused, a bit too forcefully. "You don't have a license! It's illegal! And it's my patrol car!"

"I know how to drive though." He said, shrugging. "I'll be careful."

"I-I can't let you do that, Damien." She tried to sound firm, but her voice wavered. "It's against regulations."

"Come on." He didn't have to do anything else but stare at her, giving her this hopeful, pleading look. It was enough to make any woman's defenses melt. "Just for a few minutes. Please~"

"Fine!" She shot back, taking the keys from her pocket and throwing them over before realizing what she'd just done.

"Thank you, Val."

He pocketed them, stood up, and began to run off like some small child.

"NO! Wait, Damien. Wait! You can't be serious..."

Her voice tapered off, engulfed by his trailing laughter. He turned only once to give her a heart-attack with that sexy smile and languid look before disappearing out of the shop.

She followed him out of the shop, with no doubt every single woman there not believing that there was any man that could be so natural, normal, and—most importantly of all—amusing and beautiful at the same time.

As she crossed the empty parking lot, she expected to see him sitting there at the wheel, already starting the engine, but instead she found him sitting on the passenger's side, impatiently beckoning her over. "Val!"

She got in on the driver's side, blinking in confusion.

"Huh... what?"

Damien shrugged as he threw the keys back at her. "Did you really think I'd act on my whims and get you in trouble? C'mon now." He gave a gentle roll of the eyes that made her feel like a complete idiot.

"......"

She was tight-lipped. Couldn't even look at him, that damn coquettish creature.

...

She had both windows rolled down to allow the wind to rush through the car and cool her head.

The roads were fairly empty on the way back, with Damien mostly sticking his head out of the window like a golden retriever that has never been in a car before.

She had to hold onto the wheel tighter just to avoid swerving off the road when he'd occasionally look at her, hair messy and all over the place.

'How can a man's eyes hold so much of the universe and still remain so empty of any self-awareness? That should be illegal in itself.'

She thought, not for the first time that evening. They stopped at a red light, and Valeria watched him from the corner of her eye, watched how he stared at the darkening sky, lost in thought. She wondered what went on in that head of his.

Damien must have sensed her gaze, because he turned to look at her, a small smile playing on his lips.

"What?" He asked, his voice soft.

"N-Nothing." She quickly looked away, focusing on the traffic light as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "Just... thinking."

"About what?"

"N-Nothing."

His eyebrows raised, eyes narrowed into playful slits. He definitely knew what she was thinking about!

He didn't say anything, merely laughed a little, and turned to look out of the window, as if he were seeing the city for the first time.

Valeria turned on the radio for more music.

He hummed along, likely a tune he was familiar with.

She risked another glance at him, and he was already looking at her again.

Their eyes met, and Valeria felt her breath hitch in her throat.

She quickly looked away, her heart hammering against her ribs.

When she finally mustered enough courage to look back again, to see if he was still staring, she heaved a sigh of relief when she realized he wasn't.

It didn't take long before she had to drop him off somewhere nearby, and not outright in front of the house.

Valeria didn't want to get any venomous glances from his relatives, or any budding accusations of being a creep, or any other things that could be hurled at a woman for being in the mere proximity of a man.

She did what any reasonable person would do.

"Uhm, you can get off here. This is as far as I can go." She said, trying to keep her tone as professional as possible.

Damien's face scrunched up. "You're not going to walk me home?"

"N-No." She shook her head quickly. "I... I still have patrol to do. And... I'd rather not have your mother think I'm trying to abduct you or something." She winced as she said it.

He chuckled. "Alright, then. Thanks for the coffee, Val."

"No... thank you..."

She fidgeted with the steering wheel as Damien unbuckled and slid his body across the seat. He got out and closed the door behind him, her window still down.

She glanced up and their gazes locked. "Till next time, officer." He winked at her playfully.

Valeria shivered as a chill ran up and down her spine.

Damien turned, and began making his way down the sidewalk, his frame soon swallowed by the darkness of the night.

Valeria clutched her steering wheel tightly, and exhaled sharply, watching him until he disappeared from sight completely, before driving off.

When she finally pulled into her apartment parking lot, after what seemed like hours later, Valeria wanted to get straight into the shower and try not to think too much about the mess her life was turning into, because that's exactly what happened to women who messed around with men, but then she noticed that she received a couple of text notifications while she was busy undressing and trying very hard not to imagine Damien bending her over like one of those depraved lesbians and their stupid dildos.

—Did you get back home safe?

Was the text...

Valeria gulped, clutching the phone tightly against her chest before she managed to stutter out a response with her highly uncooperative fingers.

—Yes... what about you?

—Yeah. Got home alright, don't worry.

She wanted to talk more, but figured that pushing her luck any further might not be the best course of action at this point, especially with a mind fogged by infatuation like this.

—Goodnight, Damien

—Goodnight to you too, Val.

She exhaled, putting the phone away and literally melting on the bed.

The clothes were off.

She wasn't wearing a single damn thread left and she still felt scalding hot.

The cold shower barely helped, and by the time she finally hit the bed for good, she had somehow managed to wring a blissful orgasm, despite her fingers being the wrong shape and size and, in general, just not belonging to someone else.

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