I
Trust me, I really want to tell you how it all started and how it all ends, but first things first. Be sure that this is by no means a story for everyone, but the truth of what happened, should you feel tempted to be in the know, more or less lies within these pages. I truly and fully accept the consequences; in fact, I feel all tingly just thinking about the consequences as I put pen to paper. So here goes nothing.
Indeed, things had been brewing for a very long time. What really set things in motion, however, was nothing but a harmless videogame (the name of which I’m not willing to share). The other major fact depends on my being honest and confessing to you, right off the bat, that I was born into the wrong body. At the time, inhabiting the body of a female avatar—even one that existed only in the cyber world—allowed for a short and slightly inconvenient escape from reality.
When I stumbled upon the game (and let’s not dwell on how I happened to stumble upon so specific a discovery), I immediately signed up for a premium account. Yes, I was willing to pay a few dollars per month for a chance of pretending to be a sizzling hot lady with exaggerated bodily proportions. My avatar, whom I named Anastasia, was a petite blond with green eyes and rosy red puckered lips.
Generic, I know, but the graphics were stunning, Anastasia was the bomb, and I couldn’t care less about being original. I just wanted to find a macho man, pronto. A man with the right package—and the right words. An assertive man who wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted and own what was rightfully his from someone who simply couldn’t help but surrender to him. Suffice it to say that I found my man, eventually. It took a while, but I’m more than glad to inform you now that I will forever be a possession of his. I’ll get to that later though—first things first.
II
Anastasia did the rounds. Cyber men took advantage of her, and she loved it. She sucked and fucked her way to the top. She soon achieved a great in-game score, and because of that everybody wanted to score with her. I loved how cheap it felt to be passed on from one man to the other. Once I entered a virtual room and found twenty thirsty men waiting for Anastasia. They stretched her beyond what would have been impossible even in the physical world. She screamed with pain and pleasure.
Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her puckered lips never had the chance not to be wrapped around a massive dick or two. In that room, Anastasia wasn’t human. She was a plastic object which men passed around to please their animalistic needs. They came all over her perfectly rendered face, one after the other, their semen stunningly simulated to flow over her naked body. The white fluid made its way between her huge breasts and part of it trickled across her puffy nipples all the way down to her still quivering vagina.
The men logged out, one after the other. They said nothing. They typed nothing into the chatbox. Back in the real world, a mental image of tiny Anastasia surrounded by big horny men put me to peaceful sleep.
III
As the days went by, the game started to consume me. What started out as an escape ironically became a prison, a dark dungeon in which depravity was rampant. And weirdly enough, I loved every second of it. Well, almost every second. When I had to be offline, I started to pretend I was Anastasia. I ordered a blond wig and the second it was delivered (two weeks later), I ran to my room to try it on.
I wore it haphazardly at first, but at least it covered my real hair. I puckered my lips and, looking in the mirror, I spoke a few words in some affected sultry voice. An Anastasia wannabe stared back at me. She was nowhere near convincing, and I remember thinking no man would ever fall for her. I averted my not-at-all-green eyes and threw the wig against the wall. It landed silently by the trash bin. That week, men in search of Anastasia didn’t find her in any of the virtual rooms.
IV
I had no plans of ever giving up on Anastasia. I wanted to be her, no matter how ridiculous an idea that seemed. I ordered green contacts from a “trustworthy” online supplier. They arrived three days later. This time the mirror was more forgiving. The Anastasia that looked me in the eye felt more self-confident this time.