“It will only take a second, I don’t want to lose my streak, ok?”, said Mike.
Steph rolled her eyes. Every person had their vices, she felt, and among all the vices a man could indulge in, silly video games were among the least harmful. Still, it annoyed her that her best friend, an eminently smart, competent person would pause their talk just to log into what, from the little portion she understood of it, essentially was a virtual slot machine.
“Do you have to do that now? We are having fun!”, she said. And she meant it, too. Steph was so glad Mike had gotten over his… confusion regarding their relationship. They were now in firm, safe friendship territory.
“Just let me log in, and… oh, that’s nice”, muttered Mike. Steph got off the couch and had to stop herself from smacking her friend in the head.
It was beneath him, she felt. These… how would she even describe them? They weren’t women, not really, not in any way that resembled reality, even accounting for the anime art style. Mike was staring at what Steph would call an animated bunny-sex-doll, with fishnet stockings, heels, a fluffy tail and proportions that simply defied the basic laws of human anatomy. That was what he was collecting, what was important enough to put the world on pause.
“So… you got a… bunny hooker?”, she teased.
“She’s a warrior, actually”, corrected Mike.
“A warrior, you say? Sure, I can see that. Riding into battle with a fucking bunny tail! That will put fear in the hearts of the enemy troops! What does she attack with, her gigantic knockers? Look, if you like porn games, just say you like porn games, that’s perfectly fine!”
“It’s not a porn game! And she’s one of the best warriors in the game, although I have to say I’m more partial to some of the more magical classes…”, said Mike. Great. So there were magical anime whores, too.
“Let me guess, they do magic wearing slutty nurse outfits, tits half out, a miniskirt that…” Steph stopped herself. Mike’s gaze was firmly planted on the floor. “Oh shit. I was joking! Don’t tell me there actually IS a slutty nurse mage in the game!”
“It’s an alternate costume!”, protested Mike. “She doesn’t always have to wear the nurse outfit, it’s… I mean, just to get it is pretty hard…”
“Mike…”, teased Steph. “Do you have the nurse outfit?”
Steph couldn’t hold it in anymore. As much as she loved her friend, she had to laugh.
“It’s a gooner game! Stop defending it! You can play a gooner game, I won’t judge you! Just don’t bullshit me about these girls being warriors or mages or whatever!”, giggled Steph.
“It’s not just a gooner game! The gameplay…”
“Oh, I can see the gameplay! I can see the gameplay spilling out of their clothes! Look at that one! How much double sided tape is she using to keep that miniscule excuse for a top glued to her titties? One would think a demoness would have more dignity.”
“Okay, very funny, Steph. But you know, if you gave one of these games a chance…”
“Even if I liked girls in that way, which I don’t, I prefer my porn more realistic, thank you very much”
“I mean it! Look, I’ll send you a link to one of the best gacha games. It’s free, what do you have to lose?”
“You know what? You’re right. I sent you the link already, but ignore it. So, where were we?”, said Mike.
Steph fought the urge to throw the phone across the room. Why did she do this to herself? Scrolling and scrolling and getting hammered by terrible news after terrible news. Sure, being informed was good, but her consumption of online media felt like self abuse. Fuck, she needed to get a hobby. Just… something, anything to stop herself from focusing on the horrible shit in the world. At least Mike had his stupid games.
Well… come to think of it, she still had that link he had sent. And it was too cold to go out for a walk… And the game was free, after all. Might as well have a laugh at the ridiculous character designs, maybe get more ammo to tease Mike. It wasn’t as if she had anything better to do with her time.
A rather simple and painless installation process later, Steph logged into the game for the first time. A barrage of colors, movement, triumphant music. Come on, she thought, how transparent could a game be in its manipulation? Was this thing going to throw her a virtual parade for being able to install a computer program? She clicked on the very big “begin” button, only to be met with a wall of miniscule text. Oh, terms of use, wonderful. She knew the deal. Scroll to the bottom, and… there. Who ever read those things? Ah, interesting, a photosensitivity warning. That was nice of them. Or covering their ass in case anyone had a seizure. Sure, just click accept, get going.
Orchestral music played. Damn, the game had a budget. She saw a girl wearing almost sensible leather armor standing in front of a rather impressively designed demon. So… she was the girl, right? The game pointed to the “attack” button. She clicked it, and the lithe elven archer jumped into action, shooting an arrow right at the demon. A “5” popped out of the beast. Okay, so… 5 damage. That wasn’t bad, right? The demon struck with a fire whip. Red numbers. 9999. Steph’s little elven fighter fell to the ground. The screen faded to black.
A fairy came on the screen. Ah, now Steph was finding the gooner stuff. The fairy wore almost transparent, flowing clothes, and her tits were anything but subtle. The soul of a warrior never dies. It can only change… Blah, blah, blah. So that was the narrative excuse for collecting girls. Reincarnated souls of warriors or something, ok. She could handle that much fantasy bullshit. The fairy gave her a mystical looking crystal. So… click on the crystal? Sure.
The screen exploded in colors and shiny particles and rays of golden light. “LUCKY!”, a text announced. Before her was the elven warrior, now reimagined as a… french maid? Oh, this was too good. She made a mental note to joke to Mike about the maid stuff later. Still, what was that “LUCKY” thing? Had she landed on a rare skin on her first go? No, surely everyone got the maid skin when they started, right? Well, whatever. Time to take her revenge on that demon prick. She clicked “continue”.
She wasn’t facing the demon again. Instead, four tiny goblins stood, menacing her. Okay, attack them… wait. Special attack? What did that do? One click later, her maid elf did a somersault and fired four arrows, killing the enemies. Yeah, get wrecked, goblin filth! And they dropped some gold? Neat, she guessed. She piloted her little maid avatar through the landscape…
“Oh, come the fuck on!” Steph shouted, five hours later. She had been absorbing knowledge like a sponge. She instantly understood that her ranger had missed, which had only a 5% chance of happening, her mage (a demon girl with horns and a saucy leather outfit) had picked up the slack by inflicting the burn status on the Minotaur (chance of burn: 30%), her warrior (a catgirl in a japanese school uniform) had successfully blocked the beast’s basic attack (chance of full block: 50%), but then the Monotaur’s bonus area of effect attack had triggered (chance: 35%) and had wiped out her party.
Her mind went to work instantly. If she fused two of the normal crystals she could get a golden one, which meant that the chance of an elite drop would increase; then she could use Soul Stones to change her mage’s class from mage to cleric (thus getting a new cute outfit in the process), grind a bit to raise her level and make her a proper healer. Or she could get one of the Gate Keys, summon a new high-level hero, hopefully of Epic rarity, and maybe even get Kaylie, who was apparently one of the best healers in the game… But, of course, Gate Keys only had a 1% drop chance in Infernal Dungeons, for which her party was woefully underleveled…
Fuck it. Steph pulled out her credit card.
Enter the data, and… there. Three Gate Keys. That should do it.
Gate Key One: Halia, One Eyed Samurai. Fuck. Sure, she was a good warrior, and her half-open kimono did look cute… but not what Steph needed.
Gate Key Two: Galia, the Storm Whisperer. Oh, and in her rare fishnet bodysuit skin! Not what she was looking for, but the endorphins of a good pull sent a rush down her body.
Gate Key Three: Nadia, Ruthless Assassin. Fuck! And in her boring default skin, no less! Well, Steph would send her to the furnace to refine her into crystal dust, to craft it into a crystal, to fuse that into a higher tier of crystal…
Steph skipped dinner. She didn’t notice it, of course. In the end, she went to bed happy. Gate Key nineteen had been the lucky one.
Her dreams were a strange parade of stats, numbers, percentages, thighs, tits, slutty outfits…
She woke up soaked, and had to find a way to choose between twin urges: to play the game or to play with her pussy. Her pussy won, but even as she rubbed, she was thinking about the game.
Steph’s alarm sang its pointless song. She had blown off the poor app’s futile attempts to inform her that it was time to get up for work, time to go to bed, time to go to dinner with her friends. Her life unfolded in her laptop now, in a chaotic melange of stats, miniscule waists, whips, damage numbers, bouncing tits. How long had she played in the past few days? How many days had passed since she had installed the game? It was impossible to say. Even when she wasn’t playing, her mind was thinking about it, her hand between her legs without her even noticing. Game and life, life and game: the difference felt more and more insubstantial.
She did have some moments of clarity, pangs of adrenaline reminding her she should shower, buy groceries, be a person. It was during one of these brief periods, after a quick shower, that Steph finally was aware enough to actually look at herself in the bedroom mirror. She recoiled and fell on the floor, half from exhaustion, half from disbelief.
Surely the being in the mirror wasn’t her. It couldn’t even be human, not really. Flesh and blood people didn’t look like that. They didn’t have those proportions. They had things like internal organs, regular human biology. No, what stared back at her from the mirror was some pornographic parody of a woman. Half-mad from lack of sleep, Steph raised her finger, accusing the thing in the mirror.
The being in the mirror pointed back.
“Don’t you point at me, you… you fucking gooner fuel! You are everything wrong with media nowadays! Look at you! With your huge, impossible tits… and that, that juicy ass… and that tiny waist, and those lips… No, no you listen to me. You were designed for horny men! You…”
Steph’s hands gained a life of their own, one groping one of her new, gigantic tits; the other shamelessly inserting two fingers inside her soaked pussy.
“You… fuck… you are just fucking porn… just something for men to get off to… your… your huge fucking tits are just there to make cocks hard… to be coated in cum… to be wrapped around a nice, thick dick, so warm and ready to bust… just porn, you’re just porn… with plump lips to suck and worship men… with nothing smart to say… mouth made for cock, not speaking… fuck… Just a fucking hole… a… a face pussy… just holes and tits… holes… feel so good… you’re holes and an ass to tempt men to use them… you’re porn… not real, just porn. Just porn, I’m just porn… feels so good to be porn… mindless, horny holes! Fuuuuck!”
The mirror got drenched. Steph’s eyes widened. She had never squirted before. And normal women didn’t squirt that much, ever! Panting, a smile came to her lips, unbidden. Being porn. So simple. So easy. And it felt so good to say, to think. I am just porn.
Suddenly, she frowned. Was she good porn? She stood up, looked at her new body. Sure, her tits were amazing and sensitive, and her ass seemed to be begging for a nice thick cock… but there was something missing. Some… allure. She evaluated herself in terms of her character skin. As she was now, naked… sure, she looked hot, but so… basic. No kinkiness, no flair. A base skin, for sure. Not one she would keep in the game. No, she needed to be a better character, one any player would love to get in a drop. And why stop there? Characters had many skins, after all.
She rushed to her laptop. The game called to her, but she managed to resist. As she perused online shops, her fingers played lazily with her pussy. New skins. She smiled as she added item after item to her shopping cart. Cat ears, obviously. Well, a french maid outfit was a no brainer. Black denim microshorts for a more… sexy mechanic vibe, sure. The slutty nurse outfit was a gimme. Fishnets and bunny suit with tail and ears, a classic. Maybe a white sundress with a flower headband to look like a sexy healer? Sure. Oh, horns and a tight business suit, to be a demon teacher! And…
Item after item was added. Her credit card was already loaded with microtransactions Steph had no memory of purchasing, but thankfully her credit limit was high. Not that she was thinking about her finances. Or anything at all, other than looking good for men. If she had been thinking, she might have noticed the work termination email sitting in her inbox, unopened.
Steph didn’t know much anymore. Her mind was overloaded with character designs, stats, the way she had to cut some of our outfits to make them look sexier. What she did know was that she was porn, and porn needed an audience. What was the point of being a slutty little sex kitten if no one would jerk off to her huge tits?
So, her days were a haze. Wake up, play the game with a hand between her legs, maybe get ideas for new outfits. Sometimes eat, if she remembered to. After that it was just a matter of choosing a skin to wear (she had them classified as “gold”, “diamond” and “platinum”), embodying what the outfit told her she was, and turning the webcam on.
It was so easy to know who she was when her skins did all the work for her. She didn’t even have to try, she just felt it deep inside her. If she was wearing her demon teacher skin, her voice became smooth, confident, seductive. If she had her bunny suit on, she naturally bounced and smiled and played with her titties. The healer skin brought out her caring, innocent side, while also making her “accidentally” flash her panties or lean forward to show off her amazing cleavage.
After that, well, men told her what to do. So simple. So fucking hot. She was porn, she existed to get cocks off, so anything they wanted to see her do, she did. Anything they wanted her to say, she said, and she believed it fully for as long as the person watching wanted. It was so fucking fun! She was nothing, so she could be anything. She was porn, and different people liked different porn, so she simply was whatever they needed. She had bounced on a giant dildo calling herself a fucking useless whore, a stupid doll with tits bigger than her brain; she had become a nympho nurse, fucking herself mid exam, drooling for her patient’s cock; she had commanded a man to stay after class and finger himself while she mocked her tiny cock… all those tiny lives that existed until the viewer came were to her as real as anything else.
That she should charge for such services never crossed her mind.
Then the call came. Steph didn’t understand most of what the lady on the other side said, but after a long period of increasingly exhausted explanations, the lady got the main point across: Steph hadn’t been paying, so Steph would have to leave the apartment.
She couldn’t stop crying. It didn’t make any sense. She was porn, she was making people happy, getting cocks hard and pussies wet… she had dozens of skins, really cute ones! Where was she going wrong? She was just something to make people horny, just like all the characters in the game, all the characters she owned…
Oh. It dawned on her. How could she have been so blind, so dumb? Characters are owned. She wasn’t owned. It was so obvious! An owner would take care of all that smarty pants stuff like rent! An owner could tell her what to wear, who to be, who to make hard! Duh! But Steph knew she was a very good pull. Not any player could own her. It would have to be one that really understood the game, that would make the best of her skills, that would fully appreciate…
She smacked her head. So obvious. So blindingly obvious.
She loved Mike. Loved him more than anything in the world. Loved him more than life itself. She tried to look back to the time before she was his, before she had become his favorite character. There was nothing there. Nothing worth remembering, obviously. She kept cleaning, her tiny maid’s skirt riding up her ass. Clean and cook and serve. Her maid skin made her life so simple. All she needed to do was to make sure her Master was pleased, his house clean, his meals ready. The oven dinged, and she set up the table with immaculate care.
Master sat down to eat. Steph went under the table, rejoicing in the way his cock felt between her lips. She knew exactly how to please him, using her tongue, her mouth, her throat. She had learned to read him, to know when to take him deep, when to jerk him off with her lips. And when she felt his blood rushing, his cock spasming, a jolt of pleasure snaked throughout her body, for she knew she was doing what she was meant to do: serving. She swallowed his cum with joy, her nipples stiff. As usual, she got up, bowed to Master and asked if he needed anything else from her.
Mike left a note on her wardrobe every morning, selecting her skin for her. She loved that so much. She didn’t even have to think about who to be. He was the player. She was just a character. If he desired her to change her skin, all he had to do was to tell her to go to the wardrobe; there she found a new note, changed into another skin, became another kind of porn. On that particular day, Mike told the maid to go to the wardrobe after he had finished his breakfast. She did so, saw the note, changed.
The front door opened. Steph was in the living room, already rubbing. Her streetwalker skin always made her so insanely horny… The men came in. Steph didn’t recognize any of them, nor did she care. She watched as they put money in Mike’s hands. That alone almost made her cum. She was a whore. Mike’s whore. Her body existed to please him and make him money. That was all that mattered. Dignity? Morals? Her skin blew those concepts away. As the men gawked at her massive tits and her spread legs, she knew exactly what she needed to do.
“Welcome, boys! Look at me… so fucking soaked already… I need cock, I need your cocks, please let me suck them, fuck my titties with them, ram them into all my holes! I’m all yours for an hour, so use me like the fucktoy I am! Use me as hard as you want! Fucking shove your hard cocks into my slutty body! I need it so badly, I’m such a needy fucking whore! Look at me! I’m not a person, so don’t be gentle! I’m just big dumb tits and wet holes for you, gentlemen. So pull those cocks out and ravage this body!”
Steph smiled as the men took their pants off. She was ready to do the one thing she existed for… until Mike told her to change again, into whatever he desired.
Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work and access the full library at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !
kianamaiart
theartofmadeline
pixelskylines
stormborns
baratheonpilled
