All persons 18+. This chapter introduces a story line that will eventually focus on supernatural female characters and futanari (dickgirls). Mention of any particular social media platforms is not an endorsement to use them, and not sponsored. This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to real persons is purely incidental.
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One day after we went out for a jog together, my friend Irina asked me if we could do something girly, just the two of us. When I asked what, she said "Take some crazy selfies and post them on Instagram."
"I don't have much of a following," I said. Part of me thought it was just the kind of wild idea that might be fun and even help us to bond a little. Also, it might help me to discover why she was such a fanatic for social media fame.
"Come on, it'll be great, she said.
"I'm game."
Irina had become my best friend in the past two months. We always talked and hung out. I had not known her in high school (she still a sophomore when I graduated) but she had really kicked some ass during her senior year. She had been a cheerleader and homecoming queen. She didn't have a job like me, but I suspected she was using Instagram to somehow turn her looks into a little extra money. A lot of girls who try this end up getting burned so I really wouldn't recommend it; the fact that she seemed to be pulling it off was all the more reason that I thought she had her act together.
She had a tiny one room apartment, but it was not bad considering she had just graduated high school six months before. She kept it stunningly tidy and decorated with mirrors and Christmas lights. Before I could offer a word of praise over her interior decorating, she started pulling clothes out of her drawer.
"Let's do a slutty sleepover theme," she grinned as she lent me a fitted t-shirt and some hip-hugging hot pants. They were so skimpy and tight, and I usually don't wear a size 0 but the light cotton fabric stretched like a cheap pair of panties, so I gave them a try. They hugged my every curve even when I wedged them into my ass crack.
"Wow, like a second skin," she said admiringly.
"Is this really necessary?" I whined.
"Skin is paramount, and skin tight is very important when it comes to the areas you cover up. You're trying to get followers, right?" It was hard to argue with her logic when she stripped down to a black bra and panties.
Then came hairstyling time. She put my long brown hair in huge curlers. While the curlers were doing their work, I helped tease out some volume from Irina's wavy blonde hair. We giggled and chatted like we were back in high school. She then did my long brown hair up in a bouncy spiral ponytail.
"Wow, you're a knockout!" she said.
"We both are!"
"Time to take a few selfies," Irina said, grinning as she reached for her cell phone. We posed for the cellphone's front facing camera. When she pouted her lips, I imitated the expression. She captured the shot, and then another and another, each time holding the camera higher to get a different angle.
"We look ravishing," she said, and I had to agree.
She giggled and turned to me and leaned in for a kiss. Abashedly, I turned away and let her kiss my cheek. She still snapped the shot.
"Oh, I think this one is the best one!" she said. "My sexy friend is still so shy!" The way she said it was an obvious come-on.
"Uh, Irina, I think that's enough kissing," I said. I was flattered by her advances, but I knew I had to nip them in the bud so that we could at least be friends.
"Why not? It's just us girls," she giggled spiritedly. "Which one of these should we post online?"
If that was how the girl dealt with rejection, I wanted some of her effervescence. Just basking in her presence had lifted my spirits. I shrugged cheerfully and selected the hottest picture of us puckering up for the camera. It was the highest angle, and caught our breasts, her ass, and my legs all in the frame.
"How many followers do you have now?" I asked.
"Girl, I have reached 10k and I'm not even slowing down. I must be adding hundreds a day. Now, I'm just gonna tell folks to give you a follow and watch, you're gonna get at least a few dozen tonight. Wait, let me take a look at your profile." She swiped her phone and quickly said "Shit! Girlfriend, this crap has gotta go. What is this, FoodTV?"
"My mom and dad follow this feed, and a bunch of my friends."
"Look, you have to have a good ratio of skin shots to everything else. What is that, a tofu burger?"
"But.."
"Wipe the slate clean! Make a new account."
"But!"
"Just do it."
"Okay." I began fiddling with my phone.
"You should give yourself a cheeky name."
"If that's your expert advice, PussiesOnParade," I jibed, referring to her Instagram alias.
Irina headed to the kitchen and came right back with a couple of wine coolers. She crouched in front of her TV and put on a horror movie. I settled down to watch, semi-distracted as I created my new account, then linked it to my phone. We left the movie running as we took a few more selfies and changed outfits once or twice. Irina said I needed at least twelve pics in my profile just to make our twofer selfie worthwhile, and that I better keep adding new pictures daily.
We were getting past the half way point in the movie, and one of the nicer girls in the flick was getting murdered. She had fallen on a spike and been impaled, but she was still screaming and trying to get up. The bad guy was coming to finish her off with his felling axe. It was a little tough to watch.
"Say Jeanie, would you mind doing me a favor?"
"What is it?"
"Take a few pictures of me for my ConnectPal account?"
"Why don't you just post the same pictures we took tonight on your SnapChat?" I asked.
"I could certainly do that, but ConnectPal is a paywall service. I use it for more explicit stuff. They let me set a price for subscribers to pay a monthly fee, and they don't restrict nudity. They're paying customers, most of whom found out about me on Instagram, so I gotta give them more than what they've already seen on Instagram for free."
"ConnectPal allows that?"
"Sure, I gotta tell them it's adult content. Subscribers have to acknowledge this and they have to say they are over eighteen years old."