Emily, a College Tennis Player

"Yeah, you got this Claire!" Hopefully, at least.

"Thanks Emily! I can do this." A deep, stressed breath or two later, and Claire starts to head out. FINALLY. Not that I hate helping her prepare for the match or anything, I think to myself. _I_t's just a bit of work. Okay, I think I'm finally alone enough now.

The locker room does indeed seem to be empty, which is a fucking relief. The weight's already lifting from my chest. One last glance seems to confirm it. As quickly as possible, I rush to my locker and grab my uniform, then throw off my baggy sweatshirt. Get it together Emily, I think as I unfold the performance tank top with shaking hands.

My boobs compressed tightly in their specialty sports bra flash through my vision. Fuck me, why do I have to have these ugly globes plastered to my damn chest?

The shirt pulling over my boobs makes my heart decelerate a fraction of a percent, but the way my boobs STILL manage to jut out in this tight-ass bra and tank that's a size too big is insane. And gross.

Sighing, I remove my sweats and get my skirt on, feeling the black, soft fabric in my hands. It's so stupid how women still have to wear this sexist shit as a uniform, ugh.

My body glares at me in the mirror, but at least it's kind of covered, with my skirt falling gently to mid-thigh and my compressed boobs only somewhat exposed by the low-cut, tight fabric of my shirt. An experimental jump shakes my breasts, but not all that much, and the skirt stays firmly attached to my too-wide hips.

God, why oh WHY did I have to be so far from an athlete's body? Luckily I got trained before these stupid things grew in.

Images of my dorm flashed through my mind, and damn would it be nice to go, but unfortunately my team needs me. I feel the tension release as I roll my neck, cracking it, and think of all the film I watched of Nina, and how she dominated the top players from each school so far. Until me, I smile lightly, focus, and am about to head to the court when my phone dings in my bag.

Wait, my phone dinged? It's definitely on silent...

Carefully, I bend at the knee and squat, then grab my phone from the side pocket of my tennis bag. I see a notification, reading: Downloaded Gem Ladies! The newest compelling app that you won't be able to put down!

Wait what is this? A virus?

I sit on the bench beside me and unlock my phone with my thumb, only to see a new app was indeed downloaded. A quick check in the settings shows that it's trusted by my iPhone, and Apple devices can't get anything weird, can they?

Maybe this is a prank, Melissa always was making fun of me for my Bejeweled and Clash of Clans addictions... huh, out of curiosity I clicked the icon, only to immediately be pulled into the game with no warning at all.

Frantically, I try to connect the colors, not even sure why I'm doing it. Flashes of color fly by as I connect blue and red gems, but suddenly I find myself stuck, unable to progress, and FAILURE flashes on the screen in red.

SMACK. Ow, maybe smacking hard wood with an open palm isn't the greatest choice. But wow, that was fun, I gotta make a mental note to thank Melissa later, or at least ask about it. Bejeweled can't even hold a candle to this for some reason.

Suddenly, the screen shifts and I look back down at my phone. A message appears for a brief moment, reading: Thanks for playing! Unfortunately, all losses must be met with a punishment to the player character. Don't worry, a win can reverse 3 punishments, and who knows what reward may lie in wait should you win with no punishment's to remove!

The message disappears, and I see an avatar that looks almost like... me? I guess I am kinda average, what with my blond hair and all. The avatar even seems to be wearing a black skirt and green tank top with a bit of cleavage, kinda like me. Weird.

Ah, so that's why she set this, I think, smirking as I see the three choices. Hardy har har, I'm not that much of a prude.

Below the character, three options hover in bubbles: Bend at Waist, Sultry Sway, and Jutting Tits.

Yeah, okay, fuck you Melissa, or whoever else. Cue the eye roll, then pick Bend at Waist I guess, before that 30 second timer runs out. God, so dumb.

But still... the game was fun. And I do have enough time for another, it went pretty quickly. I tap my fingers, eyes glancing to my phone, and despite my years of intense training for self-control I can't quite stop myself. It's just one game, then I'll be good to go for the match.

Yet again the intense colors and fucking GREAT borders and design draw me in. I can feel myself smiling more than I have in ages. My fist pumps in the air as I connect eight blue gems in one go, but why is there a bomb now with 1.5 s?

SHIT, I pound at the screen and a burst of pain blasts through my pointer finger, but all I see is an explosion ripping apart my beautiful board. Before it fades, I even notice that I had 8,000 of the necessary 9,000 points to win, damn it.

I sigh as I see a hint saying, Remember to tap the bombs in time! Yeah, I got that now, how about you give me a damn tutorial next time?

The end screen appears yet again, this time with no message. My avatar drops a quarter, then bends lewdly to pick it up, giving a view of her ass up her skirt in the process. Great, now I'm getting invested in a damn porn game, and it's actually good somehow. I mean c’mon Bejeweled, get your act together.

I see the options left to me, and then see that it's somehow been ten minutes, meaning I have at best five more to hit the court in time to avoid a stern talking to. So what are my choices? Huh, I see, SOOO original and funny, ugh.

I mean really, who the fuck is sexist and terrible enough to make a game with a stock blonde where I lost on something that was FUCKING CHEAP, only to have to choose between having my avatar go without underwear, without her bra (which seems to be holding a lot back, not unlike me), or wear a “Very Small” Crop Top??? I mean, what even is that?