The Gamer Girl

 

I am not a brave person. I mean, I like to think I have a very firm belief in right and wrong, and will stand up for myself, but I do tend to avoid confrontation wherever possible. That's particularly so when people are rude and aggressive, for I am neither.

I have always had a very determined sense of dignity. I am polite and respectful towards others and I expect them to be the same in return. It causes me a great deal of stress when they are not, as I have few ways of dealing with it other than walking away.

I mean, I'm certainly not going to get into an angry, foul-mouthed shouting match with someone in public! God! That would be humiliating! Everyone would be staring!

I do not like to be stared at, particularly in public, particularly by strangers, particularly by a number of them together. Being the center of attention is something I have avoided like the plague for a very long time.

That is mostly because being the center of attention is, in my experience, usually being the butt of jokes and snickering comments. That's been true since I got glasses when I was around eight. I cringed when I had to go to school and all the other kids teased me and called me 'four eyes'.

I coped, but I had less confidence in myself in public afterwards. Then, in adolescence, I was among the first in my class to get acne. Ugh! Again, I had to endure teasing and taunting and insults from other girls and boys. And all I could do was look down and feel embarrassed.

Of course, the teasing got more sexual as I developed. By then I was quite shy, and I guess the boys in particular knew they could say whatever they wanted and I'd just blush hotly. The pretty blonde girls, meanwhile, sneered at me.

It wasn't that I was ugly, though, especially since my acne relented in my mid-teens. But I had become kind of mousy in both my behavior and my appearance by then. I had been a very short girl, too, with dull brown hair which I admit letting grow over my forehead as much as possible to hide my acne.

The acne was mostly gone by my mid-teens but I was still mousy in my behavior, and in how I dressed, and I never did change my hair style, with long, thick bangs which would fall over my glasses if I didn't keep brushing them back. I had confidence in my own abilities, but no confidence in my ability to deal with other people, especially groups of them.

I spent a good deal of time alone in my room, either reading or on the internet. I had more confidence on the internet, at least, as long as people didn't know what I looked like in real life. And I played a lot of video games, which got me involved - on the internet - with a lot of guys.

Guys on the internet were constantly flirting with girls, even though they had no idea what they looked like. And they would be nice to them for no real reason other than, I guess, they hoped to impress them. So I enjoyed that quite a bit.

I was kind of relieved when high school ended. I know some people consider it the best years of their lives. To me, it was a miserable time. But then the problem came of what to do next. What I wanted to do was become an astronomer. I loved looking at the stars and reading about them, and was a whiz in math. I didn't have the money to go to college, though.

I applied around for work, of course, but I still didn't exactly have what you might call an outgoing personality. Nor did I have a lot of connections and friends to find me work. Actually walking into a place and asking if they had work was ... not possible. No WAY could I have done that!

Not only was I painfully shy but... it struck me almost like begging for money. You know, like 'poor me, do you have any work for me, sir? I'm poor and unemployed.' Ack! I could never do that! I had too much sense of dignity and... well, a kind of a weird sense of quiet superiority. I mean, I couldn't possibly admit I was 'less' than them, after all those years of being taunted as 'less than'.

Anyway, I was in my room, on the computer, playing a game called The Machine, which is something you play with a lot of other people across the world. I had an avatar which was this hot, sexy brunette, and was often flattered, teased and flirted with by guys on-line.

One of them called himself Turmoil, and he was always saying I wasn't really a girl but a guy. Finally, he offered me twenty dollars - not in cash, but in gold I could use in the game, if I showed him my breasts. Of course I laughed, but then he kept needling me, telling everyone I wasn't a girl.

And the idea took hold that I could take a picture of just my breasts, without my face, and put it up somewhere anonymously, and not only would it show him up but would get me the gold. In fact, I could just show him a picture of some other girl's breasts!

By then he had upped the offer to $50 worth of gold, so after putting up with him too long I finally kind of snapped and said sure. That was when he attached conditions, of course. So I attached conditions, too. He had to put the money with a holder in the game, which was sort of like a neutral bank.

On his part, he said I had to write 'for Turmoil' across my breasts to prove they were mine.

Now you might say that wasn't much proof. If I was really a guy I could just do it to my girlfriend's breasts and take a picture. But most of these guys didn't have girlfriends - for a reason - and figured if I was a nerdy guy pretending to be a girl I wouldn't have one either.

So I took the picture. I stripped to the waist and stared at myself in the mirror, feeling anxious and nervous and... well, a little turned on, too by the idea of guys staring at my breasts! I was still a virgin, after all. Nobody had seen my breasts but my doctor, and she was a woman.

I stared at my breasts in the mirror very carefully. I didn't want to replace being taunted as a pseudo girl with being taunted for my breasts instead. But in fact, I had pretty nice breasts. I'm the worst judge of myself, I know, but my breasts are, well, not large but not small. And they're very firm.

They don't sag in the slightest, and are nicely rounded. They have pretty pink nipples in the middle with small but not tiny pink areolas around them. I have no freckles or blemishes or other marks on my breasts, and aside from my skin being pale, I thought there was really nothing there anyone could mock.

So I wrote Turmoil across them with a green whiteboard marker which could be easily erased, then, I very carefully took a picture in the mirror which had me slightly leaning forward with my abdomen against the counter, and the camera completely covering my head.

With a sense of bubbling, churning anxiety mixed with a strange, breathless sense of excitement I put the picture up on the site we had agreed to in our public discussions. You see, I wanted to show off my breasts! I wanted to show this group that I was ... well, sexy. Or at least, that some part of me was sexy.

I guess in a way I longed for recognition as an attractive girl, even from anonymous people I had never met and never would. But I was anxious. What if they didn't find me sexy? What if they mocked my breasts? What if they sneered at me for being a slut?

On the other hand... hey, me, a slut? Me!? I mean, the idea was so ridiculous that I would have felt flattered.

The picture was posted in a public space, so everyone could see it. That left me breathless and nervous, but when the response came in I felt almost giddy with all the guys saying how incredibly sexy and hot and gorgeous I looked!

I mean, they weren't complete strangers. I had been playing with them for months, after all. A number of them expressed amazement, saying they had been sure I was a guy. I snorted disdainfully, and collected my gold.

Only now, of course, they knew I was a girl, and not a fat, ugly one either. And now they all wanted to do private chat room stuff with me. On the one hand, that seemed gross, but on the other hand, the idea that some guy would be masturbating and having an orgasm to the sight of my breasts was kind of empowering.