3 – Impulse Purchase

Shocked and hurting, she’d stumbled from her parents’ house, crawled back home and spent a week laying in bed, sobbing and distraught, thinking her life was over. She’d hated her parents, hated herself, hated her decision to get breast implants, hated the world. 

The only thing that had pulled her out of that darkness had been the need to pay her bills. The student loan money had all but run out and there would be no more help from her now-former family. So she’d turned to her online life and sought to monetize it as quickly as possible. 

She’d streamed and made videos and picture sets all hours of the day. Keeping her enhanced upper body hidden, she’d developed new content and used all the right angles or strategically-placed costumes to keep her breasts secret. And followers had begun to support her with more than just likes, little by little. That first month, she hadn’t eaten much, she hadn’t gone out, but she had been able to pay her rent and utilities and survive. And for that, she’d taken a measure of pride. For the first time in her life, she’d not only stood up for herself, but stood on her own and made something of her own future. 

But she couldn’t keep hiding forever. It was becoming more and more difficult, and the secret, even hidden from strangers on the internet, felt wrong. Plus, job offers were only going to be good for so long. So she’d finally decided to come clean. She’d chosen to ero-cosplay a witch from a new movie coming out, hence the black lingerie. It was simple and it showed the change she’d gone through. And now those pictures were out in the world and everyone’s image of her was changing, too. 

Direct messages started coming in on various accounts. She pulled up a messaging page and took a deep breath. “Please don’t be dick pics. Please don’t be dick pics,” she chanted to herself. She clicked on the first message. 

It was a small, wrinkled penis buried in black hair. “Hey baby! Yer hot. Lez git you sum of this.”

She rolled her eyes and clicked the next one. 

Dark, uncircumcised, shaved. “I know you be wantin some of this D. Bend over and beg me and I’ll give it to ya hard alll nite long.”

Jane sighed. “Great. It’s all going to be dick pics, isn’t it?” She scrolled through messages, opening them one after another at random. “Yep, mostly dick pics. And they’re not even nice dicks.”

Unlike some people, she wasn’t really all that bothered by these messages. Yes, they were crude and had no hope of working on her. And they probably indicated someone of lower intelligence who didn’t understand that there were better ways of approaching a woman. On the other hand, when you put yourself out there in a sexual manner, like she’d just done, it seemed fair to expect that guys interested in her were going to respond in kind. 

Honestly, when it came down to it, their response wasn’t really any different in spirit than the guys writing comments with two dozen hearts and flowers in the message, right? She should be flattered that she could make so many men excited enough to do something about it, even though she had absolutely zero intention of ever replying. Like, ever. The pictures were too childish. Which is an unfortunate way to refer to all that genitalia that they were so undoubtably proud of, something they might want to take to heart before repeating. One generally doesn’t want a woman thinking your junk is childish. Unless you’re into mommy types or something, maybe.

Of course, although the positive (if occasionally vulgar) comments coming in were welcome enough, it wasn’t long before the hate came flowing in after it:

Wow. Fake tits. Guess you’re selling out, too, huh?

Ugh, bitch, why??? Were nicer before

I followed you because of your amazing costumes. I thought you were a woman I could admire as a fellow artist. Apparently not. Say hi to Playboy for me, you fraud.

(thumbs down)(thumbs down)(thumbs down)(thumbs down)

And another slut gives into the misogynistic male gaze for the money. Way to sell the rest of us out, honey.

Are you doing porn now? 

(vomit) Gross

You gotta plstic cunt two

She tried to ignore these. She really tried. When dealing with the public, you have to toughen your skin, because there are a lot of bad people out there. And she had. And these really were the minority of comments she was getting. Most feedback was from guys going over the moon for her new body, and even from some women telling her she looked even hotter than before. They were encouraging. 

And yet, the haters still managed to drive a dagger between her new breasts with each shitty comment. And for some stupid reason, the harsh comments outweighed the good, no matter the ratio. They just stuck in her head and went around and around and made her sick to her stomach. 

Maybe she’d still been too fragile to do this. Maybe it had been too soon to come out, after the fallout with her family. 

Her phone rang and she picked the cell up off the desk. It was her sister. She lit up and smiled. Her parents had cut her off, but her younger sister hadn’t. She’d been disappointed, but she’d stayed in Jane’s life. And now Jane was eager to talk to someone supportive. She answered. “Susie!”

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

That took Jane aback. “What?”

“I just saw the new post. Mom and Dad were right, you’re just selling yourself now,” she’d scoffed. 

Jane felt her spine stiffen. She wasn’t going to take even more abuse. Not from her little sister, too. “Susie, come on. It’s the twenty-first century. Lots of people do this. So the pictures show some skin, so what? It’s no different than some of the other cosplay I’ve done.”

“You just have porn star tits now.”

Jane frowned. “I still get to do what I love: play games and cosplay and go to amazing conventions and I even get to travel to other countries! And I get to do it all myself. I might actually be able to make a career of it instead of working in some lab or office and—“

“And slaving away like some idiot. Like me.”

“I didn’t say that! You can do whatever makes you happy. Can’t I do it, too?”

“What you’re doing is prostitution. That’s gross. It was embarrassing enough telling my friends you were into cosplay back in the day. I can’t tell them this is you now. I don’t even recognize you.”

“Why? Because I got breast implants? So what? How is that any different than makeup? Or a bra that lifts and whose pads add a cup size? You saw how much weight I lost from working out. I needed these.”

“Yeah, you needed them so you can give guys hardons and milk them for cash. Whatever. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. And I don’t think I want to be sisters anymore either. Go live your own life.” The phone clicked off.

Jane stared at the black screen, now devoid of life, just like how her life was now devoid of family. 

“Why are you all so upset?” she mumbled. “Over nothing. Over these?” She choked back a sob. “Do I really mean so little to all of you?” It was a shocking development, a 180 degree turn from the little sister who had long looked up to her older sister, treating her like an idol for most of her life. It had been a relationship that Jane had come to cherish as she’d gotten older. And now, just like that, it, too, was gone.

She drew back her arm and almost whipped the cell phone at the wall, but managed to come to her senses in time. She tossed it on the bed instead, anger, pain, sadness, and heartache swirling within her heart.

She needed to not be alone right now. Mentally, she scrolled through a list of people she could call and talk to, or even hang out with. The list was depressingly short. In fact, she couldn’t think of one real friend that she could reach out to at the moment, especially over something serious and not just hanging out for drinks or something light. 

She realized that, over the past couple of years, her real-world friends had grown increasingly distant. Some of that was likely her own fault as Jane spent more and more time online and hadn’t taken the time and effort to stay engaged offline the way that she did with fans on the internet. Looking back, that had been a very stupid mistake. Real people were obviously more important than followers.

But if she thought about it, the fault hadn’t been hers alone, had it? It was as if, the more followers she’d gained online, the less interested in her some of her real friends had become. And while none of those who’d learned of her new breasts and fame had reacted as harshly as her family had, they hadn’t exactly been enthusiastic to support her either. 

Maybe she should chat up one of her online friends. Yeah, right. Like one of those dick pic guys. Call him up and try to talk about something heavy and emotional and watch that dick go limp, fast. That wasn’t the kind of relationship anyone online wanted from her. They only wanted the happy, perfectly posed, online version of her.

Throwing herself onto the bed, she let the air whoosh from her lungs. If only she had a boyfriend she could call up. The last two hadn’t worked out though. The first had thought her nothing but an easy, kinky lay just because she dressed up and shared pics of herself online. The second had gotten super possessive and controlling, demanding an end to her hobby and stalking her both on- and offline. 

She rolled over and sighed, wiping away a tear. She wanted to be with someone, but her options didn’t look very good. She could just fuck random fans for the skinship, however temporary it might be. Though she wasn’t sure if that was really what she needed or if it would even help, as much as she enjoyed sex. Or she could do what so many other online personalities did and use the attention she got to bait rich guys with big bank accounts. They might have shitty, selfish personalities and big egos, but she could just set herself up for life with the right one, right? Stop worrying about anyone and anything and live a life a pure, selfish luxury. Except she hated gold digging. 

She groaned and sat up, hugging her knees. She wanted to make her own way in life. She wanted to be a real partner to someone, not just a trophy that you dress up and show friends that you invited over for the Sunday football game or who you take to golf tournaments to impress the boss.

Maybe she should quit the online thing. 

But what would she do then? This was how she paid rent now. And without a degree or experience or qualifications, what job could she get? Start at a fast food restaurant like some eighteen year old? She was twenty six. People her age were starting to get married and thinking about kids.

Thrusting her pain and confusion aside, she returned to the desk and her computer. But she closed the social media window. She didn’t want to deal with any of that right now. 

Cruising around gaming sites, she saw the recent explosion of World of Fantasy: Golden Impact ads. They’d been everywhere for months. She’d heard amazing things about the beta. She’d played the old version of the game for a bit while younger but had been into other games more. Then the whole scandal thing had happened and the game had kind of died off a lot. But she was well aware that the company behind it, NOVisionWizard, had been the king of gaming companies for a really long time. This new full-dive version that they were coming out with was going to be huge, if the media buzz was any indication. Working for them as a cosplayer at this year’s WizCon would be a fantastic coup, if she could get herself invited. 

She scrolled through World of Fantasy news. A lot of influencers had been contacted during the beta period and offered brand-new gaming rigs for Golden Impact in exchange for publicity. She hadn’t paid much attention before but, taking a closer look, she saw that many of these people had much smaller followings than she had. Yet no one had reached out to her about being an influencer for the game. That was kind of disappointing, but maybe she should reach out directly. She might even score herself one of those gaming rigs, too.

Entering a chat with for NOVWiz marketing, she typed, “Hey. Influencer here with 2.5m followers. I do gaming and cosplay. Any chance you’re still looking for content creators?”

Admin: Of course we are! 🙂 Please provide your account info and we’ll check them out and get back to you. 

She gave them her account links. 

There was no reply. 

She waited a few minutes. Then fifteen. Finally, after an hour, she typed again in the chat. “Hi. Just checking in. You got the links, right?”

Admin: Yes, thank you. At this time, we’re looking at other content creators. But we appreciate your interest. 

What? Jane frowned at the screen. That was a weird reply. 

She typed. “Just curious, is something wrong? I’ve got more followers than a bunch of the people you’re partnering with. I think I can do a lot of content for you guys, too. Maybe even on stage, like at WizCon.”

There was a long pause again. 

Admin: At this time, you are not the type of content creator that we’re looking to partner with. Have a nice day. 

Jane sat back in her chair, stunned. What? Not the type they were looking for? Why? Because she showed a little skin recently in her pics? 

Anger surged forth. Well fuck them. Fuck everyone. She’d had enough of the way everyone had been treating her. Just because she wanted to cosplay instead of study microbiology. Just because she wanted to feel like a woman instead of a tomboy.

Looking around, she found the NOVisionWizard page where people could buy the new full-dive machines directly. It looked like they’d just gone on sale. Fine. She clicked BUY. 

She’d get the game and play it. And she’d content-create the shit out of it and get more popular than ever. She’d do it as sexy as she damned-well pleased and show as much of her new tits as she liked, because she damned well liked them, no matter what her family thought of her. And they’d come crawling back to her, begging her to be on stage at WizCon, cosplaying for them.

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