The Gamer Girls: Chapter 2 (Patreon)

The address was only about a fifteen minutes bus ride from my place—though it seemed like a huge pain in the ass carrying my computer and monitor with me, with a backpack on my back with my mouse, keyboard, headset, and cables. I wasn’t used to moving that stuff around...

But ‘Lena’ wanted my tryout to be in person, which meant dragging my rig to her apartment.

Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but my hopes weren’t high. The fact that the leader of this group was a woman had me nervous, simply because I’d never played against a serious female opponent. Well, maybe one or two, but for every half-decent girl I’d ever played against, there were five-hundred dudes just as good or better. So just speaking statistically, it was hard to believe that this girl could carry a team into a serious tournament—and then win the tournament.

I was even more nervous in our phone interview, when I heard a female voice in the room with her, suggesting that there was another girl on the team. The odds of a team with two girls on it being a winning team in a serious tournament… Well, it had never been done before… literally ever.

That didn’t mean that it was impossible—but just speaking statistically, it seemed like a long shot.

But I was still walking up to that apartment building door. I was still going to take the chance, because I had never won anything. I’d never gotten into a serious tournament, and I’d never taken home any prize money. So maybe this girl hardly had a chance—but at least she had a chance. The solo tournament was over, but the team tournament hadn’t started yet.

I buzzed Lena’s apartment. It was a moment before a voice came through the buzzer. “Who is it?”

“It’s Ethan,” I said, arms getting sore from lugging around that computer.

The buzzer clicked, and I pushed through the door, my arms already burning from hauling my PC. The elevator ride up felt too long—what if this was a mistake? What if they were just some casual players who thought they could compete?

But when Lena opened the door, my assumptions shattered.

She was tall—almost my height—with sharp cheekbones and dark brown hair tied into a messy bun. Her black crop top showed off toned arms, and her gaming chair was draped with a pastel pink hoodie. She grinned, waving me in. “Ethan, right? Come on, we’re warming up.”

The apartment was nothing like the dingy “gamer dens” I’d seen before. Fairy lights zigzagged across the ceiling, casting a soft glow over three monitors set up on a long desk. The room smelled like vanilla and citrus, not sweat and energy drinks.

And then I saw the rest of the team.

Zoe spun in her chair, her auburn curls bouncing. She wore a cropped tank top and high-waisted jeans, her nails painted neon green. “Oh my god, he’s actually cute,” she stage-whispered to the girl beside her. I don’t know if I was meant to hear that; my hearing had always been pretty good. I wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic though… because I definitely wasn’t ‘cute’. I mean—I was wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, and I hadn’t washed my hair in two days. There was no chance that I looked ‘cute’.

The girl next to Zoe—Mara—rolled her eyes but smiled. She was softer, with round glasses and a lavender sweater, her hair in a braid over one shoulder. “Ignore her. We’re not all gremlins here.”

Then there was Jess.

She didn’t even look up at first, focused on flicking through her settings. Her undercut was dyed an electric blue hue, and her ripped fishnets stretched over crossed legs. A choker hugged her throat, and when she finally glanced at me, her smirk sent a jolt down my spine. “You gonna stand there all day, or are you going to set that hideous rig up so we can play?”

I swallowed. “Uh. Yeah. Where should I set up?”

Lena pointed to an empty spot beside Jess. “Cables are under the desk. Monitors are 144Hz, so don’t bitch about lag.”

“I brought my own monitor,” I said sheepishly. I glanced around the room. They were all… women. I was expecting to feel out of place—but not like this. I was expecting a bunch of chubby, sweaty dudes and some hog of a woman as their leader. But instead…

“You getting set up or no?” Jess asked, narrowing her eyeliner gaze.

I fumbled with my gear, hyper-aware of Jess’s eyes on me. My hands felt clumsy as I plugged in my keyboard.

“You nervous?” Jess asked, leaning closer. Up close, her eyeliner was razor-sharp, her lips glossed a slick pink.

“No,” I lied.

She laughed—a low, knowing sound. “Good. Because we don’t carry dead weight.”

Zoe tossed me an energy drink. “Welcome to the team, pretty boy.”

I cracked it open, my face burning.

This wasn’t what I’d expected.

And that second reference to my looks… surely sarcasm. She had me wondering if I looked like total garbage. I blushed, wishing I would have washed my hair quickly. I wasn’t expecting to find myself in a room filled with… women. I mean—sure, I knew two of them would be women based on my initial phone call. But they were all women—and they were… pretty women. They were put together. They were all fashionable and they smelled nice.

I fumbled as I set up my computer.

I was so out of place. Even if I put up the best performance of my life and showed them that I could help them win the tournament, there was no way that they would want me on their squad.

I peered over. Zoe had her heel up on her desk and she was painting her toenails. Jess was checking her eyeliner in a mirror, and puckering her lips to check her gloss.

Was this real?

*

The game loaded, and my fingers hovered over the keyboard. “What’s our strategy?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Jess rolled her eyes. “We drop hot, we kill everything, we win. Strat done.”

Lena shot her a look. “We’re scouting Ethan, remember? Play smart.”

The plane roared across the map, and my pulse spiked as the jump marker appeared. “Military Base,” Zoe declared. “Let’s see if Pretty Boy can handle the heat.”

We plummeted toward the ‘compound’. My usual solo-game caution screamed at me—this was a suicide drop—but I followed, landing beside Jess on a rooftop.

“Gun!” she barked, already looting.

I scrambled, grabbing a gun of my own, and a vest—a lucky find. Shots cracked nearby—a squad was pushing us.

“Ethan, left stairwell!” Mara called.

I spun, firing blindly. “Shit—missed.”

Jess groaned. “Oh my god, aim.”

Heat flooded my face. I never missed like that.

But then the enemy rushed us—and instinct took over. I flicked my wrist, head-shotting the first attacker. The second rounded the corner; I hip-fired, spraying him down. Honestly… it was probably luck. My hands were trembling and I wasn’t super familiar with playing that particular area.

“Nice!” Zoe whooped.

Jess’s eyebrows lifted. “Huh.  Maybe not totally useless.”

We cleared the base, my kills stacking. By mid-game, I’d relaxed—until Jess nudged me with her elbow. “Reload before pushing, dumbass.”

Her touch on my body lingered a second too long. My heart skipped a beat and I glanced over at her.

Then I noticed it…

The Adam’s apple.

Jess’s throat moved as she laughed at something Zoe said, the choker shifting slightly. My gaze flicked to Lena—her jawline sharper than most girls’, her hands just slightly broader. Mara’s voice, sweet but with a faint, gravelly edge when she got excited.

Oh.

I didn’t stare. I didn’t react. I just adjusted my grip on the mouse.

“Ethan, move,” Lena ordered.

I snapped back to the game, flanking an enemy squad. Three quick taps of my rifle—down, down, down.

“Holy shit,” Zoe breathed.

Jess smirked. “Okay. Maybe we keep you.”

It was an easy game to win: just a public match against casual players. And with Lena and her girls doing so much scouting, I felt like I had total control of the game from start to finish.

The victory screen flashed. My hands shook—not from the win, but from the realization buzzing under my skin.

They were trans. All of them.

I’d never actually met a trans girl before. Sure, there had been a couple in my high school, and there was one who worked at the mall—but I never really talked to any of them before—not because I had anything against them, but because our paths never really crossed.

“You free for the match this weekend?” Lena asked me. “It means coming every day until then for practice too.”

“Um,” I said, feeling suddenly awkward. “I—I have to think about it.”

She stared into my eyes, seemingly surprised by my answer. “You were interested in joining the team… right?”

“Yeah, totally. I just have to, uh… check my schedule and whatnot.”

Now, all of the girls were staring at me. Jess’s eyes were narrowed and she glared right into my yes. Was I being… transphobic? I wasn’t trying to be. It wasn’t the fact that they were trans—but the fact that they were all trans and I wasn’t made me feel like an outsider in a big way… and I was used to feeling like an outsider.

“I’ll be in touch,” I said, clutching my machine and inching towards the door.

They kept staring at me.

I slipped out into the hallway and moved towards the elevator.

I liked the idea of being on a team… especially a good team. I liked the idea of having one last shot at that tournament—and that prize money. But the thought of being with that group for an extended period of time… it was just such an awkward scenario. I was just so different from them.

“Ethan?” said a voice behind me as I waited for the elevator.

I turned to see Lena standing there. She was looking at me strangely. “You’re not coming back, are you?”

“Um,” I said. “I just need to think about my options, honestly.”

“We want you back. I know that Jess was teasing you a lot in there, but that’s just her personality. She’s not actually mean; she just thinks she funny.”

“Right,” I said. “That’s fine. It didn’t bother me. I’m used to some banter.”

“So what’s the issue?” Lena asked.

I bit the edge of my tongue. “No problem.”

“Is it because we’re trans?”

“What?” I said, feigning a chuckle. “That’s… No. I mean—I can’t even really tell. I, uh, wondered, but I wasn’t sure—and I don’t care. That doesn’t bother me.”

She stepped up to me as the elevator opened. She eyed my machine. “You can leave your computer here and come back and practice with us in the morning.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“Come on, Ethan. You’re a good player. We could use you. Just stay with us. If this weekend’s game works out, there’s a room for you in my place, so you don’t have to travel back and forth—at least until the end of the tournament.”

She wasn’t selling me. In fact, she was making me dread the thought of being with them even more.

And really—it wasn’t the trans thing. It was just the hyper-feminine thing: the fairy lights and pink decorations, the perfume smell, the nail polish, the makeup… everything was so girly. And if, somehow, we ended up qualifying for the tournament, then I was going to be associated with all of that.

“I’ll message you later,” I said, stepping into the elevator. She jumped into the elevator with me.

“Just… actually think about it,” she said.

“I will,” I said, but I felt like my mind was already made up.

“I’ll make it worth your while to play with us,” she said.

I paused. “What do you mean?” Was she offering to pay me? Because that would change things. I could go to my family and show them the cash, and say, ‘See? Not such a waste of time, was it?’ So I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I would maybe be interested in something like that.”

She blushed and smiled. “Really?”

“Sure,” I said.

Then suddenly, she stepped forward and sunk down to her knees. She pressed a button on the elevator control panel, making it stop at the next floor. Then, she pulled down my sweatpants, exposing my boxers.

“Whoa,” I said. “W—What the hell are you doing?”

“Hold the elevator—just keep your finger on the door-closed button.”

My heart was suddenly pounding. “But… What are you doing?”

She pulled my boxers down before I could process what was happening. Now, she was seeing my cock. I felt my face turning dark red. Her dark brown hair, in that messy bun, suddenly obscured my sight of her—and my cock—as she leaned in. I felt warm wetness. I felt the gentle grazing of teeth, and then I felt… suction. She was sucking my cock.

I tensed up. Now, I was hyper aware of the fact that she was trans. I’d been with a couple of girls before—but never a trans girl. I couldn’t help but think of her past maleness... of her biological maleness. That tongue… those lips… they were no different from my own lips, other than the fact that they were touched by gloss.

But it… felt good. I wanted to tell her to stop, but another part of me just wanted to ride it out for a minute… to feel what she had to offer.

I held my finger on that door-closed button, pausing the elevator where it was so nobody would get in.

She had me hard in a minute. She sucked with deep dips. She stroked my shaft with her fingers, all painted pink and cute… But I knew that hand was technically… male, in a biological sense.

It was awkward… but at least she looked like a girl. The way that messy brown bun bobbed… the way she tugged at my shaft, pivoting at the elbow… the way her back curved in a catlike way, with her perky butt sticking into the air.

I was sweating. I felt like I shouldn’t be enjoying this… but it felt so good. She knew how to work a shaft…

Maybe because she had one of her own to practice on…

God—I tried not to think of that. I kept my eyes on her. “Shit,” I moaned.

She looked up at me with her eyes, still sucking. Her eyes smiled. Her long, thick lashes fluttered. She was so pretty. She was honestly prettier than the biological woman I’d been with.

She leaned back, now stroking my cock with her clenched fist as she went to speak. “Do you like that, Ethan—”

The timing was terrible. I came. I couldn’t hold back—and she didn’t see it coming. Thick white cum splattered her face and she let out a little shriek, tensing up all over. She closed her eyes as thick globs streaked her forehead and nose and eyelids. She gasped, and I felt guilty.

She used her hand to wipe the cum from her eyelids, spreading it accidentally into her hair. She looked like a mess: mascara smudged, cum all over her face. I don’t know where all that cum came from… I guess I was backed up.

I looked at her with hot red guilt. She laughed. “You made a real mess,” she said.

“I’m sorry.”

“So will you play with us?”

“O—Okay,” I said, feeling like I now owed her. I could at least play in the qualifying matches that coming weekend.

Then, she hit the button for her floor. She was going to walk into that room with my cum all over her face—and her friends were surely going to see.

Before leaving, she smiled at me and said, “We’ll make it worth your while to play with us. Promise.” She winked. Cum dripped off of her chin.

“O—Okay,” I said again. I watched her go. I blushed and hit the lobby button.

My head was spinning. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Did I really just get a blowjob from that girl? And did that blowjob actually just seal this deal?

Now, I felt like I had to return to play for them—but I certainly didn’t feel any less awkward about it. Now, I was thinking that I had made a very big mistake by letting her suck me off like that. Because now, I had to sit in a room with her for multiple hours every day for the rest of the week and weekend—and maybe more if we actually managed to win the tournament.