MommyMilkers42 gets their name on the board for having gold kills even though they did nothing else besides teabag\u2014crouch repeatedly on an enemy\u2019s corpse\u2014for the duration of the match. Don\u2019t get me wrong, it\u2019s hilarious, but I don\u2019t teabag because I\u2019m not twelve and I\u2019ve got better things to do. For example, I pick up this kid\u2019s slack while they dip their pixelated genitals on a player named Adolf_Healer.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t intend to make a living out of this nonsense, but it\u2019s been two years since I started streaming and I have sixteen thousand Twitch followers. Between subscribers, ads, and donations, I make about five hundred dollars a month. I haven\u2019t told anyone yet, but I\u2019m saving for a procedure, a present for my eighteenth birthday.<\/p>\n
Tomorrow I\u2019ll be legal, but I was thirteen when I discovered, sitting before a mirror with my legs butterflied, that I had an ugly vagina. I feel like maybe everything fell out when I hit puberty. I looked up the term \u201cmeat curtains\u201d after seeing it on 4chan and read that women who had them were \u201cused up.\u201d Back then, I was still a virgin.<\/p>\n
My big labia are also uncomfortable. I can\u2019t wear lace underwear because they get twisted and poke through the little holes of the fabric, pinching my flesh, so I\u2019m stuck with granny panties unless I want to suffer. Toilet paper gets everywhere. Riding a bike is the worst.<\/p>\n
I like the rest of my body. My boyfriend Josh says my popularity on Twitch is \u201cmostly because of my tits,\u201d and I can\u2019t tell if that\u2019s flattering or insulting. He was behind me on my still-made bed when he told me this, lying in a pile of plush toys. My star-shaped string lights exaggerated the pockmarks on his face. I sat at my desk furiously clicking my mouse, destroying noobs once again after MommyMilkers42\u2019s childish display. Josh reached over to twirl a greasy strand of my hair. I swatted him away, annoyed by his constant need to touch me while I worked.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t get mad,\u201d he said, \u201cThey\u2019re great.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, not like I\u2019m good at this or anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
My camera and microphone were turned off because the quickest way to lose followers is to reveal that you have a boyfriend. It ruins the illusion that they can have sex with you. The word \u201cVICTORY\u201d flashed across one of my two curved monitors and my desktop hummed as the cooling fans spun. All this magic behind the glass of my custom-built PC. I removed my cat-ear headset and gave Josh a knowing look.<\/p>\n
\u201cEat it.\u201d I smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat Genji was awesome,\u201d he said. \u201cOut of control.\u201d<\/p>\n
This match\u2019s Play of the Game featured one of my teammates, TheDoinker, destroying everyone as the character Genji with his ninja sword. He shouted, \u201cRyujin no ken wo kurae!\u201d when he used his ultimate ability, which meant, \u201cTake my Dragonblade!\u201d He ran from player to player swinging his katana, slicing and dicing like a madman. When he was done, he spammed a voice line that said, \u201cmada mada\u201d for \u201cnot good enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho do you think kept that Genji alive?\u201d I asked Josh, ready for another fight.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou carried that team.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d I said. \u201cMy back hurts.\u201d<\/p>\n
I scrolled through the comments in my Livestream chat. They were mostly from users I recognized, posting the usual \u201cGG\u201d for \u201cgood game,\u201d and thirsty men heaping praise on my healing skills. Most of the comments I got were from lonely guys, the kind who didn\u2019t know how to meet real people. Or maybe they never wanted to meet real people. I know I usually didn\u2019t. They\u2019d ask me about my day or what my plans were for the weekend, telling me I was beautiful and calling me a queen. I felt like the girlfriend of thirty faceless strangers.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry, baby,\u201d Josh said. \u201cDo you want me to rub your back?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, it\u2019s okay,\u201d I said. \u201cMy back does hurt though. And I\u2019m sick of playing Mercy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mercy was a support character. There are three roles in Overwatch: tank, DPS, and support. In other words, there are players made to take damage, players who do damage, and finally, players who help them all recover. It\u2019s obvious which job everyone likes best. A well-known stereotype in the gaming community is that only girls play support, the least popular role.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m not sure what it says about human nature that most developing boys prefer to shoot things over helping others. I once heard my preteen brother joking about bringing a gun to school. When I told him it wasn\u2019t funny, he called me a social justice warrior and stormed up to his room. I didn\u2019t see him again until he came downstairs and asked our stepdad, who he called \u201cdad,\u201d if we could order Wendy\u2019s.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy brother refuses to play anything besides DPS,\u201d I told Josh.<\/p>\n
Josh began breaking up some weed on a silver tray that rested on his lap. \u201cWhat a bitch,\u201d he said, packing the glass bowl.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n
More comments came in. Best Mercy ever ;), Twitch thot and luv u Miss Anthrope\u2013my screen name. I ate a potato chip and licked my fingers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere\u2019s he at?\u201d Josh asked. He opened a window, lit the bowl, and blew the smoke outside. \u201cWant some?\u201d<\/p>\n
I accepted the hit. \u201cHe\u2019s playing Fortnite.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre we still on for Thursday?\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded. We\u2019d been playing Dungeons and Dragons together ever since we met. He was one of my first streamers. These days, I average about fifty viewers anytime I broadcast, but even when I only had ten, Josh was there.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry I can\u2019t stay for your birthday,\u201d he said. \u201cDuty calls.\u201d He worked at White Castle.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n
This weekend was only Josh and I\u2019s third visit, but we messaged for months before he came to see me in Baltimore. He drove ten hours from Detroit and was staying at the Days Inn.<\/p>\n
Josh was also complimentary of how I played, how good I was. It helped that he gave me twenty bucks every Livestream. I lied to my stepdad that Josh was twenty-one, but he was twenty-seven. Josh got the old \u201cimpregnate my daughter and I\u2019ll kill you\u201d speech at dinner the night before. We could only hang out in my room with the door cracked.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll right, streaming\u2019s done for tonight,\u201d I said. I panicked when I closed out of Overwatch and my screen was covered in vaginas, before and after photos from a plastic surgery forum called RealSelf. On the left, the labia were splayed out like the flowers of a Georgia O\u2019Keefe painting. The ones on the right were just little slits, or at least had smaller and shorter inner lips. According to users, labiaplasty was 95% worth it. That was pretty good. I immediately pressed the power button on my PC tower and looked at Josh on my bed, still glued to his phone. The rainbow lights of my gaming rig dissipated. He looked up from the plushies.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s so good to see you, baby girl,\u201d Josh said. He wore a band T-shirt with an indecipherable name, a script like tangled vines.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou too,\u201d I said, relieved.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you want for your birthday?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou, Daddy.\u201d<\/p>\n
He was the first person who ever let me call him that. On the one occasion I brought it up with my ex he had been disgusted, saying it was for people with \u201cdaddy issues.\u201d Who didn\u2019t have those? I thought it was hot. My half-brother and I haven\u2019t met our real dads anyway. Imagine, one minute you\u2019re having a one-night stand, and decades later you have an unknown kid. I don\u2019t have daddy issues. Can\u2019t miss something you never had.<\/p>\n
Josh kneeled by my chair. He reached his hand under my shirt, a Grateful Dead tie-dye populated with dancing bears. It was my mom\u2019s. She was such a hippie, I never understood why she went for a military guy like my stepdad. At least we got health insurance. He entered my brother\u2019s life early enough to be his real father, but I never liked him. Our mom\u2019s been in the hospital five years now, still in a coma. Life is absurd\u2014one moment you\u2019re mailing out invitations to your next essential oils party, and the next you\u2019re a hit-and-run victim. Since then, video games have been the only thing that make sense to me.<\/p>\n
Josh moved his mouth toward my belly and pulled down my shorts. I pushed him away.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t. Not tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
I hated knowing someone could see it that close, could smell it. But guys loved that stuff. One time, a creep followed me off a bus and asked if he could \u201click my pussy.\u201d Men are like bloodhounds, wanting to even when I was on my period. Every time we did it, I would just lie there, waiting for it to be done. Josh also did this weird tongue-tornado thing and I didn\u2019t have the heart to tell him it sucked. Did anyone like it?<\/p>\n
Josh sighed, fiddling with the chunky skull ring on his fingers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know I don\u2019t like it,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cLike what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs it me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, it\u2019s not,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m just self-conscious about it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy? It\u2019s amazing.\u201d He slipped his fingers inside me and I relaxed. \u201cYou have a magic pussy. See? It feels so good.\u201d<\/p>\n
I thought, for a moment, that maybe there wasn\u2019t anything wrong with me. Everyone who\u2019s seen it has liked it, but he said it \u201cfelt\u201d nice. I wished he\u2019d tell me it \u201clooked\u201d that way too.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan we turn off the lights?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
He smiled and unplugged the string lights before pressing his face in between my thighs. I breathed hard. Something in me turned to a vision of my stepdad in place of Josh.<\/p>\n
\u201cStop,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
He kept going and I felt a terrible pressure on my chest. We heard footsteps a few moments later. Josh jumped back onto the bed as I scrambled for my pants.<\/p>\n
\u201cLo!\u201d<\/p>\n
I pulled them over my waist and took a breath. \u201cYes, Dad?\u201d<\/p>\n
He got mad if I called him Jack. I\u2019d learned to pick my battles.<\/p>\n
\u201cY\u2019all hungry?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNope,\u201d I said. \u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n
We heard the steps again and I peered through the crack in my door into the pitch-black, searching for anything. Nothing was there. I heard pots clanging downstairs. Josh tried to touch me again, but the moment had passed. He said a soft goodbye and slipped me a twenty before driving home for work.<\/p>\n
I turned my PC back on and vaginas were all over my screen again. Flaps splayed to reveal a warm red center. Purple-ended lips that looked like cauliflower and wide clitoral hoods. They were all \u201couties\u201d in the before photos. Nobody had an \u201cinnie,\u201d a perfect split, and asked to have their inside lips elongated. It just wasn\u2019t done.<\/p>\n
I queued up for a match, which ended up being terrible. Someone called another player a \u201cfaggot\u201d in voice chat and another person quit, citing homophobia. I ended up making a comeback, pushing two players off the map at the same time. I typed into the chat: 4 the gays.<\/p>\n
Someone responded: u wld want a guy 2 suk urs fg.<\/p>\n
Another kid got on the voice chat and said, \u201cThis team is garbage. Lucio, you\u2019re fucking trash. Uninstall Overwatch.\u201d<\/p>\n
The boy had a whiny voice and a distorted microphone quality that sounded like he was using the Wi-Fi at McDonald\u2019s. I donned my cat ears.<\/p>\n
\u201cWow, someone\u2019s salty. Toxic.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWow. Another girl who only plays support. You sound like a fucking bitch.\u201d Of all things, his username was BigDaddy34. I felt a flash of anger. My heart pumped as I began to sweat. I had to remind myself, during the bad games, that this would pay off.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re probably fat, bitch,\u201d he said. \u201cYou sound like you have a fat vagina.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think that means what you think it means,\u201d I said, starting to laugh.<\/p>\n
Someone named Verylongdong typed into the match chat: Well mommy is full of sh it.<\/p>\n
Other users included Sadfap, Bigoletit, and Deeznutz, a classic. I quit, ripped off my headphones, and sat in silence. I could hear my brother screaming the n-word through the wall and a bang, probably him throwing his controller. In just an hour, I would be an adult.<\/p>\n
I went downstairs for another soda to find my stepdad on the couch, drinking a beer and smoking his hookah. He\u2019d bought it the last time he deployed. The smoke leaked from his thick mustache and he stared at a football game on the television. I recognized the purple jerseys of LSU. He called for me to sit down next to him, extending the hose of the water pipe. He\u2019d never let me have any before.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re old enough now,\u201d he said. \u201cHappy birthday.\u201d<\/p>\n
I took the hookah and thanked him. It tasted like melon, smoke, and something more chemical, almost astringent. It filled my lungs as my mind raced. Cold and shaky, I coughed and handed the nozzle back. I put two fingers to my throat, trying to tell if my heart was beating fast or slow.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cSpice,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s like synthetic weed. The government can\u2019t test for it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Josh told me about a time his friend overdosed on spice and had to go to the emergency room. The guy was joining the military and needed to pass a drug test. K2, spice, was technically legal and easy to get at any gas station. I\u2019d read stories online of people taking one hit and going psychotic. Like the guy who ate someone\u2019s brains on bath salts, sparking conspiracy theories of the zombie apocalypse.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s fine, just like weed,\u201d he said. \u201cI thought you liked weed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I lied. My chest hurt.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on, I can smell it.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was no arguing with that.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t think I don\u2019t know what you do upstairs,\u201d he said, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me down across him. He stroked my hair. It was the most affection he\u2019d shown me since I met him in an airport seven years ago. I shook my head, trying to get him to stop. I thought I might vomit. I wanted to sit up, but something inside me remained frozen. Nothing made sense.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you want for your birthday?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
I tried to think. My birthday. Yes, it was my birthday. What was my name? Charlotte, but he never called me by my real name, just as I never called him by his. He called me by my mom\u2019s. I did look like her, and I wondered if that was true for everything. If I had her to thank.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I said. I felt him rest his hand on my back. My body went rigid as he ran his hand further down and rubbed his palm in circles across my flesh.<\/p>\n
He started to crest his hand over to the other side, dipping his hand in the crevice between my crotch and thigh. I lifted myself from the couch without a word, bolting upstairs as if summoned by some unseen presence. I had tunnel vision. All I could think about was how high I was, and how desperately I needed to leave. I always took a shower when I got too panicky. The stairwell was dark. I had to hug the rail: I could not gauge the height of the steps.<\/p>\n
Upstairs, I locked the door to the bathroom behind me. I texted Josh from the toilet, asking if I could move in. He said no, because of his mom. I wondered if she knew about me. I turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up.<\/p>\n
I stripped and laid down in the tub, holding my stepdad\u2019s straight razor in one hand and a mirror in the other. I wiped away the steam and studied myself. It seemed to pulsate as the room shifted. One of the lips was longer than the other. I thought of my brother in the other room and set the mirror down. For my birthday, I wanted to turn back time.<\/p>\n
Grabbing the right lip between my index finger and my thumb, I stretched it out as far as it would go. I could touch my thigh with the thing, which wriggled in my fingers. The sensation was unbearable. I breathed in and tried to do it quickly, but it wasn\u2019t a clean cut. I yanked at the lip and hacked. It took at least five motions. The razor clanged on the bottom of the tub. I used a towel from the rack above the toilet to apply pressure to my crotch. Water carried the bloody worm to the drain, and I watched it float down with horror. I did not, could not, do the other one.<\/p>\n
When the bleeding had slowed, about an hour later, I put a pad in my underwear and sat on a towel at my desk. I wanted to see my fans. The red light of the webcam flashed. A flurry of messages came in wishing me a happy birthday. Dozens of men I would never meet. I played a game and fell asleep with my face on the keyboard. Donations kept pouring in.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Tomorrow I\u2019ll be legal, but I was thirteen when I discovered, sitting before a mirror with my legs butterflied, that I had an ugly vagina.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":24783,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[2604,4799,259],"class_list":["post-24766","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","tag-abuse","tag-twitch","tag-video-games","writer-ash-anderson"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24766","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/182"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24766"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24766\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24784,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24766\/revisions\/24784"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24783"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24766"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24766"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24766"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}