literature

The Poster

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Literature Text

Errol Hawkins went by the forum tag "JizzCPuncher". He defended the most powerful video game systems and gear online despite the fact he owned none of the things he quarreled over.

If anyone called him out about it, he'd flame their ass all over the forums. He was king and this was his domain, at least till his mom needed the computer.

His icon was a stylized version of his favorite rocker and a flexing wrestler in "epic" poses. He'd already flamed away everyone who called it "so gay".

After laying into someone for being optimistic about a new game for that "weak-ass, girly" video system, he chugged back a can of some off-brand of Mountain-Dew and sorted through the new posts for shits and giggles.

He paused at an introduction posting. He snorted. He sometimes found noobs good as groupies but usually they were only worth for feasting on their wide-eyed optimism.

He certainly had a good laugh as he started reading it. His belly shook and he dipped back his greasy, tangled hair. This one was a comedy keeper. The user picked the name "PinkSylvia". The posting was such an earnest and happy and so mushy set of...ugh...properly-spelled sentences.

Errol cracked his fingers and clicked "reply". He went to work from the deepest pool of his sarcasm and criticism. He relished every unpunctuated word. As the savory finish, he put in glowing words, "So...TITS or GTFO!" Then with a sigh, he leaned back and wondered what he should heat up for dinner.

He was about to shift up from his chair when he received the ping of a Private Message. It was from "PinkSylvia". He raised an eyebrow and carefully opened the message. It only said, "You asked for it..." followed by a smilie.

There was an attached, zipped file. Errol did a quick virus scan but it turned up clean. He opened it and it contained a single, large picture file. Errol sat up and clicked it.

A picture file covered his entire screen. It was a girl's boobs. Both of them. Unexposed. He saw her from the neck down. He found her incredibly sexy. She had a trim but muscular waist and perfectly-shaped breasts. She had her top pulled up and was wearing a pair of blue jeans. She was sitting in a chair much like his with her hair spilling around her neck and shoulders. For some reason, Errol thought she was smiling at him, despite the fact he couldn't see her face.

Errol gawked at the photo. He'd never actually expected her to answer him with such a thing. But he wasn't complaining. He peered close at the picture. He could see a little bit of the background. There was a poster. He had that same poster. And that wall color. And...those things on his dresser...

He turned around. Same things on his dresser. Same poster. He looked back at the screen. Then back behind him. At the screen. Back behind him. The screen. Behind him. The screen...

He scratched his head and muttered to himself. He tried to bring up the reply window for the PM but his computer locked up right then. It would only show him the photo. He cursed, figuring that the picture had contained some sort of virus. The damn, shitty software. He groaned and bent over to find the power button but the computer wouldn't respond to his presses.

He reached over behind the computer for the power plug but right then, his pants fell off. He grunted and reached down for them. They wouldn't stay up. He felt himself and found that his stomach looked a lot smaller than usual. He staggered back.

Pulling his pants back up, he tensed up at how smooth they felt as he pulled them up. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get them to stay up.

He looked around for a belt, gripping his pants up with a few fingers. He pulled open his closet and looked on in shock at all the clothes in there he had never seen before.

There were pants which would never fit him, strangely-cut shorts, and even the occasional dress or two. With a gulp, he turned to the underwear drawer. It was as bad as his fears, not a single bit of male clothing inside. Nothing but cotton blend panties and soft-colored bras.

Everywhere he looked, little bits of girl stuff filled his sight when he wasn't looking. His monitor even acquired a little teddy bear USB camera hugging the screen. He turned his attention back to himself.

His arms were suddenly dwarfed by his shirt. He fumbled at it and pulled it over his head. His pants collapsed. As his shirt came off, something dropped down all over him. He spat and coughed and tried to push it away from him but it refused to go.

Once he settled down, he realized it was attached to his scalp. It was his hair, long and silken. He gasped and then was terrified by how small his gasp sounded. He felt around his body. His arms are soft and looked so strange. Each finger was long and narrow.

All of this was superseded by the way his groin felt. There was none of the normal fleshy bulging. He leaned forward and didn't find his little friend poking out.

Touching down there only brought on a swelling panic. Nothing felt familiar and every bit of contact just drove the strangeness in further. New flesh. Sensation. A fissure and feeling of flesh. He trembled at what had changed. He couldn't take it in.

As he tried to pull up his pants around this shame, his hands brushed something else new on his chest. It was like a brush against his no-longer penis, only defined in ways his mind failed in explaining.

He let his pants fall as that sensitive flesh swelled in animal-like ways, twisting and turning and coming to rest in a broad and even shape. Errol staggered to the mirror in the hallway. The face before him was strange but held some key traits of his old one. He looked like a young version of his mother.

He panted and covered up the new, girly parts. He walked back to his room, trembling. On the bed, he saw a pair of jeans and a black, soft top before him. Automatically, he discarded the pants and pulled on the jeans. They were a nice fit that followed along his waist without cutting it tight. He liked those kind. And the top also felt nice.

He eyed the camera on the monitor. He felt like there was something he should remember. It suddenly returned to him. Errol clapped his hands...

Her friend Sylvia asked her to take a picture for Flash for the Cure. She thought the idea of the website was pretty silly but Sylvia knew best. Erin sat in her big chair. She held the camera out in front of her and pulled her top up. Though she knew her face would never appear in the picture, she gave a little smile. The camera flashed.

Erin looked at the page. It was back on the forum. She plugged the camera in and uploaded the picture. It looked good, although she felt a little embarrassed about having her chest all over the internet but so long as it was curing breast cancer, like Sylvia said, she was game.

She let out a gasp of disgust. Someone had hacked her account and changed her username to something dirty. She went into the profile and changed it back to "Purple_Butterfly". Then she made sure to change her log-on and to apologize to Sylvia.

Her friend was very nice, as usual. Erin giggled. She made her feel nice. Sylvia finished with a note of "I have a few more to collect. See ya soon."

Erin smiled and pondered posting a few more icons with her favorite guy from the new RPG she loved after she made some supper and had a nice, long shower. She paged through the forum and sighed. Sylvia and her were the only girls on the forum but Sylvia promised her that there would be more girls some day. Erin sure hoped so.
This is a story I wrote because I was having a creative dry spell. It's nothing special. It's kinda silly. It's in the old style I used to write but here it is.
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petit-squeak's avatar
So, she took a picture of her self only because she saw the same picture which would allow her to take a picture of herself?