Degenerate Masochist’s Reincarnation as A Goddess

Beginning

Call yourself lucky, if you got isekaid by truck-kun. For me…

Ugh. This isn’t the place to start getting embarrassed, considering how lewd it gets later. 

So.

Okay. 

Here goes.

My last day on Earth began with a plastic bag self asphyxiation experiment in a tiny apartment furnished by garbage bags, and old soda bottles. What you need to know is that under no circumstances should you hog-tie yourself helpless with timed locks, belts, sock-gag, and tighten a bag around your head, if you’ve forgotten about a family visit.

So, there I was. Wiggling. Choking lightly.

The doorbell rang furiously. My grandpa and dad were both banging on the door, whilst my mother shouted at the 911 operator.

Louder still were the moans of my favorite BDSM clip, playing out exaggerated sadomasochistic pleasure at full volume out of a cheap bluetooth speaker.

Literal worst case scenario.

The only way I could live was to make this seem like a robbery.

Since this was a so-so neighbourhood, it’d take police some ten-eleven minutes to arrive. In that time, I had to: Dispose pornographic evidence, hide valuables to make it seem as if I was robbed, and open an escape route for the imaginary perpetrator.

With much groaning and struggling, I managed to roll around, and collect my phone. Unfortunately, I didn’t manage more than a meter towards my valuables drawer, until I heard the sirens. Heart caught in my throat. I might’ve peed myself.

Plan B was concocted on the spot: Open window, throw phone into backyard hay. Though it might set off some bullshit alarms, I would insist that the thieves were after my ugly ass, and thus had not had time to ransack the apartment.

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I bondage-crawled four meters to the window in record time.

“POLICE! OPEN THE DOOR!”

Adrenaline pounding, I scaled a mound of trash bags, and nudged the window open, not remembering it already was.

Two storey fall doesn’t take long.

It’s more like you start leaning down, and then crunch, you have landed.

Paralyzed, I heard the BDSM clip begin to replay on my phone, just as the police and my family rounded the corner. 

Four hours later, I expired in a nearby hospital. The official cause of death was acute spinal fracture at C1 to C4 lumbars, but the superficial injuries were nothing compared to the deep soul staining shame I experienced that day.

A death befitting of an S-class degenerate masochist.

Where do such people go after they die?

Why, to a crystal room with a galaxy for a floor, furniture made of starlight, and a seven winged void-blue angel in a suit. Of course!

He, or she—the person was both androgynous and constantly fluctuating in shape—raised their eyes from a bright piece of paper, and looked at me with bright white eyes.

“I’ve read your life.” Their voice was a single smooth chord of a guitar.

“O-oh? All of it?”

They nodded.

“Am I going to hell?”

They smiled. “How would you like to reincarnate?”

“W-what?”

“How would, you, like to reincarnate?”

“I… Whoa... Being as big a weeb as the next degenerate. Oh-ho-hoho! I have a hundred ideas to pick from. To be able to pick your next life in a fantasy land is a dream come true, and not only of the wet kind, but also— Nay. Especially of the wet kind. Imagine…”

“Yes?” They stared at me.

“They had heard everything inside my thoughts.”

They nodded. “Yes.”

I might’ve died again. After processing my situation, and rationalizing my shame, I made myself lay out my truest and most shameful wish.

“If possible, I’d like to reincarnate as a beautiful woman of some immortal species. The unaging kind of immortal. And the species should be somewhat human-like in appearance. The world should have a variety of sexually creative and compatible human and non-human monsters though. Demons, tentacles, anything that hentai and porn producers can think of. I’d love to be in a position where I’m exploited, and helpless to change my situation. Is that possible?”

They inclined their head, and scribbled a few lines on the bright paper, which I presume was my file. They paused. “Would you prefer to reincarnate, or take over an existing body?”

“An existing body. Reincarnation would be… Yeah, let’s not get into that. Also, if I get to be in trouble quicker by taking an existing body, that would be preferable!”

“Excellent. Sign here.”

I did.

“Hey, I never asked your name?”

They rolled up my file, and held their palm towards me. “From now on, you may call me Master.”

Before we could discuss the implications, I was torn from that celestial space. I flew backwards at lightspeed, parallel realities turning into streaks of light, and slammed into a physical space—a body.