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Fan Fiction Friday: “Now You’re Thinking with Portals”


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?Two notes before I begin this week’s FFF. A lot of you have asked me to review famous fan fics like the Power Rangers classic “Agony in Pink,” the My Little Pony “Cupcakes” story, and “Evangelion: Date Rape.” I can’t. All those stories are enormous, and it would take me weeks, if not months to make an FFF of them –it takes me 2-3 hours to do a normal 3000-word fan fic. And while I could pick a section to FFF, usually the horror is in the totality of the story. Think of it like Mystery Science Theater 3000 — you want to watch the whole movie, you don’t want them to riff on a quarter of it, right? There’s a lot of other MST comparisons I could make — for instance, not all bad fan fics makes for bad FFFs — I need to be able to make fun of them, too. Otherwise it’s just a shitty erotic fan fic.

Second note: While some FFFs are meant to scar, and some are meant to terrify, there’s another thing FFFs can and should do — ruin existing properties that you love, forever. Like, say… Portal.

White.

Chell saw white.

It was funny the things she did remember. For example, that
white was actually an absence of color–something she had learned in
school. The ceiling and the floor were white, and the walls around her
were white. It was hard to tell–if one stared long enough–which was
which. She was in a small room with no doors or windows, and the only
thing that had any real color at all was the baggy orange jumpsuit that
she didn’t remember putting on. There was a thin, flat, white bench made
of a smooth, fibrous material. On further inspection, she found that
she was indeed lying on it. At her feet laid an Aperture Science
Handheld Portal Device, which she had seen used several times before.

She had forgotten what she looked like. How the hell had she forgotten what she looked like?

I know you think you know what’s going to happen in this fan fic, and I promise you’re half-right. But only half.


FYI, this story by author Monica Farscythe (possibly not her real name) takes a bit to get going. I like that the author has written all this shit about personal identity and fear as if it totally justifies the part where Chell fucks herself later.

Looking down at her arms, she saw that they were pale, but not nearly
as void of pigment as the oppressive walls that surrounded her. She
suddenly clasped her hands to her face, panicked, and looked around the
room. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found a pocket mirror on a
small dresser only a few feet away. She moved it slowly about her
features, taking in every detail. Her lips were thick and full, her chin
rounded and smooth. Her nose was narrow and inverted, blending in with
her profile. Her eyes were thin and humble, containing within them a
noticeable warmth–which for some reason surprised her. Her hair was dark
and stringy, tied back in a ponytail.

She placed it back on the dresser and sat silently on the bench.

She put her hair back on the dresser? Unsettling.

When Chell was young she had attended a private, all-girls school in
the Ohio suburbs. She had had an emotionally distant mother. An abusive,
alcoholic father. She had no friends at School and no siblings. No one
to talk about the torments she dealt with on a daily basis.

Her only outlet was writing erotic fan fiction about videogame characte– wait a second.

Or had she?

She couldn’t be sure.

The memories were there, but they housed a nagging, paranoid fear that they were fake. Manufactured. Or maybe they simply didn’t belong to her. She was deeply afraid this was true.

Again, all this is going to make the part where Chell uses a portal to fuck herself so much more poignant.

The one thing she was certain of was that they had done tests on
her. Towering, sexually ambiguous figures in absence-of-color coats
with absence-of-color masks and goggles. From behind the glass, they had
been mindless drones, staring bug-eyed and twittering garbled,
indiscernible insect babble. When she was released from that prison–and
into a larger, more desolate one–well, she almost wished she was back in
her translucent cage. They drugged her when she went to sleep–to assure
she wouldn’t get much; when she was awake they did things that made her
wish she wasn’t. Sometimes it hurt, and other times it was
uncomfortable and degrading and made her feel less than human.

In short, they had turned her into an object.

So how do you think this fan fic writer came up with this story? “Hmm… you know what would make Portal so much better? Fucking and no sense of humor whatsoever. Someone get me Valve on the phone! Hmm? What? They hung up? Well, then fan fiction it is!”

However, she thought reassuringly, In reality–when they made her an
object they did the same to themselves. After all, Empathy was as
essential a human quality as a certain four-chambered vascular organ.
But the worst–the worst was that she could escape. Or at least
that was what they told her. But they had told her–shown her that there
was nothing outside; beyond the laboratory lay oblivion. They said she
was better off. Inside.

Wait… “empathy was as
essential a human quality as a certain four-chambered vascular organ”? I don’t know what you mean here, but I’ve discovered five different possibilities, and they’re all totally wrong. Seriously, just shut the hell up and get to the fucking.

Her expression was neutral. Maybe she was waiting for something to
happen.

WE ALL ARE.

She kept staring at the Portal device. Then, it occurred to her
that she did not know what she looked like–what she really looked
like–beneath the ugly, faded jumpsuit. She pulled the top over her head,
messing up her hair. Looking down, she saw two large pale spheres that
rose from her chest, with small, pointed pink tops.

So… she can kind of remember going to school in Ohio but she’s forgotten what tits are?

Her hands hovered
above the twin mounds before coming to rest atop them. For some reason,
this provoked a strange feeling within her. It was pleasant; she could
feel a warmth blooming in her chest. In her pants there was an odd
tingle, followed by a swelling sensation. She slid them down,
investigating. A foreign object was revealed to her then, and it stood
upwards, seemingly unaffected by gravity.

A foreign object? Like a folding chair? You’re not allowed to bring those into the ring, Chell.

It was the same color as the
rest of her skin. It was long, and had a certain thickness to it. The
skin–rather than closing at the top–remained open; rounded pink flesh
poked out from within.

Yes, yes, we all knew that Chell was going to fuck herself using a portal. But how many of you guess that she’d also have a dick?

Had that always been there?

Again: She remembers an abusive father but can’t remember if her penis is new or not? MADAM, I DOUBT THE VERISIMILITUDE OF YOUR PORTAL DICKGIRL FAN FICTION

She wasn’t positive if it had–or if it was
the result of testing.

What the hell test was that? That’s not a test. That’s just putting penises on places they don’t belong.

Regardless, she had a sudden impulse to relieve
the pressure that was concentrated in this voluminous appendage. And
because it was instinct, her body knew what to do even if she didn’t.
Her mind helped, making a quick decision.

Read those last two sentences again. If you’re filled with an unspeakable rage, congratulations, because you know impossibly awful writing when you see it.

She picked up the handheld
device at her feet and fired a blue portal at the wall adjacent to the
head of the bench. She placed an orange one right above it, and set the
multipurpose tool down on the dresser. She lay back, facing up, and
allowed herself to slip inside the blue-framed portal. Her upper torso
emerged from the orange; she was then lying on top of herself, breasts
flattening against her own stomach. She marveled at the brilliance of
the device; surely if there was anyone still around to present it–or
anyone to accept it for that matter–someone would be very famous.

Not as famous as the girl caught sucking her own dick, but still pretty famous.

She grabbed her cock around the head, and slid her hand down to the
base. She let out a small sigh of pleasure, resting her elbows on her
hips. The skin that had been around the curious pink tip folded itself
underneath her cockhead. Leaving the skin in place–the soft,
mushroom-like head exposed–she began to slide her hand up and down.
Slowly but steadily, she stroked every inch of her shaft. For the first
time in recent memory, her muscles untensed. She allowed her eyes to
flutter closed. She let out a low, shuddering sigh. Gooseflesh spread up
and down her arms; she was shivering not due to the coldness of the
room but rather the new, breathtaking sensation.

Maybe I’ve just forgotten what the first timewas like, but I think I’m kind of jealous of how much Chell is enjoying jerking herself off.

Bliss.

She felt then–for whatever reason–that it would feel significantly
better if she used her mouth. She employed her lips, tongue and
teeth–and set them to work on her rigid shaft. She took it into her
throat naturally, as if she had done this before, lips pressed tight to
her lap. She drew herself back up, letting the blushing cockhead slip
freely from between her lips. She grasped her newly slick cock–now
donning a glossy coat of saliva–firmly in her hand.

Chell from Portal is giving herself a blowjob through a portal. Because she suddenly has a cock. I know that;s obvious, but I felt it was worth stressing at this point.

Ahhhhh.

She marveled at the lack of resistance. Friction had been her enemy,
and she had kicked its ass. She felt her face burning as her cheeks
flushed bright red. She felt her jaw loosen and her mouth subsequently
hang open. In a moment of ingenuity, she grabbed her breasts and pressed
them together, enveloping her prick in their warm embrace. She did with
them as she had done with her hands–as she had done with her lips. She
felt them shake with every downward thrust.

…and now she’s titfucking herself.

They felt so heavy, so full.
Her finger brushed a nipple and she cried out, taking it away
momentarily before returning to explore the area.

Chell has just discovered what every 13-year-old boy knows instinctively — tits are a constant source of surprise and of delight.

She pressed her digits
into the soft skin surrounding the hard nubs, generating further vocal
approval. She grabbed her other nipple, applying light pressure and
twisting it gently. She let her fingers do all the extra work, leaving
her palms to compress her soft mounds, keeping her thick cock in place.

“You know what Portal needs? Portal need fucking and no sense of humor and for the girl to have a really big penis so she can blow herself. Get Valve on the phone. Hmm? What? They’ve blocked my calls? Then get me my laptop, I have a masterpiece to compose!”

She noticed that this maneuver she was utilizing left the shiny, pink
head of her member exposed. She brought her head down and pressed her
lips tightly against the tip. And then it was in her mouth; she sucked
it efficiently while her breasts attended to her shaft. Her mouth began
to water, the excess saliva escaping her lips and running down the side
of her prick.

You know, good for Chell for being so proactive about this. If I suddenly found a vagina in my nether-regions, I probably wouldn’t think to fuck myself for several hours, maybe days. Indeed, I’d probably be kind of upset, and spend the first few hours screaming “AAAAAAA VAGINA” or something similar. I really admire Chell’s positive attitude regarding her new genitalia.

She continued to work at a steady pace, feeling that same
pressure from before building deep inside. She continued, increasing her
pace until it felt like she would burst. And just when it was driving
her crazy

Her eyes opened in surprise as a thick, warm, white substance spurted
from her cockhead. It coated the roof of her mouth and the back of her
throat. A large, gelatinous deposit oozed from her throbbing member and
onto her tongue. She withdrew, the head still dripping beads of cum as
her erection faded. As there was an ample amount in her mouth, it took
some effort to gulp it all down. She crawled out from the portal,
closing it up and making herself look decent.

She lay down on the bench and closed her eyes.

If you’re slightly disappointed that Chell didn’t use the portals to fuck herself in her own ass, congratulations — FFF has utterly ruined you.

Her game had been fun, but now it was over. And she was sure the men would be back soon to run more tests.

Oh well, at least now she had something to entertain herself. Something
to make her forget–if only for a little while–what they did to her.

Unless she wanted to forget they gave her a penis, obviously. Because it would be hard to forget when you keep jamming it in your mouth.

A mechanical voice whirred to life over the intercom, interrupting her thoughts.

“Hello, and again: Welcome to the Aperture Science computer-aided
enrichment center. We hope your brief detention in the relaxation vault
has been a pleasant one. Your specimen has been processed and we are now
ready to begin the test proper.”

“Also, we saw what you did, and it was totally gross. Pervert.”

Chell laughed dryly to herself. Pleasant? Yes it had been–at
least temporarily. Everything was temporary in this place. And as
terrifying as that was, it also gave her hope. From the sound of things
she would now be at the mercy of this computer, which at least meant she
would not have to see them again.

She kept an open mind.

Open! Like a portal! Get it? GET IT?! Oh, god. Well, at least this week’s FFF was short and not too disturbin– what? Huh? You say this story was based on a EXTREMELY NOT SAFE FOR WORK PICTURE?

Goddammit. If anyone has any of Cave Johnson’s combustible lemons, please send me a couple. So I can jam them in my eyes and try to forgot I ever saw that.