Adelaide Literary Magazine


ADELAIDE Independent Monthly Literary Magazine / Revista Literária Independente Mensal, New York / Lisboa, Online Edition  








by Donald Zagardo



Jerry likes to Photoshop the heads of otherwise respectable young ladies, usually actresses, news or weather girls onto the bodies of not as respectable porn models, often with their legs spread and everything showing. It’s more than a hobby for Jerry, it’s his life’s work, his art, his perversion. Jerry is otherwise a regular guy. He has friends, participates in intramural sports and gets pretty good grades. Jerry has other talent as well. He plays saxophone in the St. Sebastian High School band/orchestra, can sing and even dance a little, but he excels most at Photoshop.

His favorite shop-craft subject is Miss Daisy Brin, the lovely star of those astonishingly mindless “Lost Puppy in Paris, New York and London” movies, that everyone, I do mean everyone pays good money to see. She is the poster child for decent, law abiding, painfully adorable female adolescence; a little unrealistic as far as Jerry is concerned.

When asked by friends and his amazingly understanding guidance counselor, Mr. Peterson, why he has taken every image of poor Daisy Brin, decapitated the girl, then attached her pretty head to the spread-eagled body of a “bad girl,” he answers, “I can’t help it. I love my Daisy just that way!”


Empty beer cans amassed on Trudy’s living room table, two close-to-empty bottles of Svedka Vodka standing next to her refrigerator, numerous ashtrays overflowing with crushed filtered cigarettes, a whiff of marijuana in the air; the condition of Trudy Dalton’s one-bedroom apartment is nothing unusual for a post-teen single California girl. Trudy is Jerry’s big sister and he loves her like a little brother should, but more. She’s the black sheep of the family, Jerry being their mom’s little angel. Trudy knows all about Jerry’s hobby. She approves of everything her little brother does, but tries to keep him relatively sober nevertheless.

Trudy has few friends, and most that she does have are drunks or addicts or both. Jerry trips over a few as he hikes from her front door to the crowded kitchen where his sister is mixing drinks. “Hey sis,” Jerry says. “I miss you so much around the old house. Mom and dad are OK, but they’re sure not you!”

Trudy likes being missed and loves her baby brother. She knows that he won’t be lecturing or scolding her about the unorthodox way she lives life. Jerry idolizes Trudy. “Hey sweetheart, give your big sister a kiss.”

Trudy’s full wet lips leave their image on Jerry’s cheek. “Come on sis, not so wet.”

“As wet as I like little brother,” and she kisses him once again, this time on the right side of his seventeen-year-old baby-brother neck.

Jerry takes in Trudy’s outpouring of sisterly affection. He secretly likes to be kissed and cuddled by Trudy. She’s the perfect big sister; pretty face, big green eyes with black and grey eye-shadow, pink lip gloss lips, nice big tits and a great ass.

“Just beer for you little brother, nothing stronger, no weed. OK?”

“OK moms,” lightly retorts Jerry.

Psshaa: Heinekens cans! Nice, Jerry smiles.


His copper and brass tenor saxophone shimmers in the light of the St. Sebastian High School music room’s low-grade fluorescents as a little-late Jerry tramples second-violinist Penelope Wilson’s left foot then Kerry McDonald's right on his way across the third row towards the woodwi nd section. “Jeez Jerry baby, watch it,” Penelope grumbles when the pain in her foot becomes real.

Kerry sarcastically groans, “Jerry baby.”

Penelope really likes Jerry and calls him Jerry baby all the time. Kerry teases them both, all the time. Penelope continues, “Jerry baby, we will meet up right after practice, yes baby?”

Jerry likes Penelope and tries to keep her happy, so he calls her Penny baby. “Sure, Penny baby: whatever you want, right after practice, for sure.”

The symphonies of Beethoven and the marches of J.P. Sousa are played by the St. Sebastian orchestra for the next hour and a half in typical High School style; blaring out-of-tune horns, isolated percussion and painful, screeching violins. It’s terrible High School band music, but somehow fun for its participants.

“Come on, let’s walk together,” Penelope says to Jerry as band practice comes to an end and the kids begin to disappear into the late afternoon. Kerry follows.

Jerry starts getting a little twitchy as they walk. His need to get home to turn on his computer, get to Photoshopping and transforming his modest, innocent subjects, particularly Miss Daisy, into something or someone new, and significantly more exciting. This requirement is vastly more powerful than his love-like for Penelope or his desire to hang out with Kerry. Is Jerry addicted to homemade porn? Who the heck know?

Penny notices Jerry’s pre-flight uneasiness. She has seen it before but doesn’t really understand why he’s like he is. “Stay with us Jerry honey,” Penelope pleads, but knows that soon Jerry will be gone.

“Come on lover boy, it will be nice, we’ll have fun. Come on Jerry baby!” Kerry can be bizarre.

“But I gotta get home! My mom needs me this afternoon. Gotta go!” And off like a shot runs Jerry, on route to his computer.

“You’re such a liar,” Penelope shouts in the direction of fleeing Jerry. Kerry just laughs because she knows what Jerry’s up to.


Clothing folded neatly on shelves and in drawers, family photos: mom and dad, sister and brother, friends and pets together on the one wall, all framed, hanging straight and everyone in the photographs looking quite attractive and healthy. Today’s mail stacked neatly on Daisy’s desk, kitchen sink clear of dishes and sparkling, bathroom smelling like lilacs, an immaculate tan and green carpet, comfortable furniture and energy-saving lamps; Daisy’s studio trailer is the cleanest and best organized “home away from home” that Hollywood has ever seen. No seriously!

“How is it possible for an otherwise normal family to repeatedly lose their poor dog?” Daisy rarely questions a script, but this is her fourth “Lost Puppy in Paris, New York and London…” movie/adventure and she has concerns.

“You would think that by now the Colbeys would learn to keep an eye on poor Charley,” she adds.

“Daisy my angel, what matters most is that our audience loves the Colbeys because of their brainless inability to hold onto little Charley. Everyone adores that clever little dog and the dim witted Colbeys. Don’t you love them Daisy girl?”  Inquires “Lost Puppy in Paris, New York and London…” series director and producer James Tyrone Witting (The Amazing J.T.).

“Yes of course. They’re like a family to me J.T., really, really they are.” Then from “child star nowhere” comes, “I’m going to need more grownup roles very soon J.T. I’ve got boobs now you know?”

“Yes, sweet Daisy, I know.”


Billy Davis is handy with computer tech issues and possesses a vast knowledge of the Internet. He works for Daisy Brin and calls her Princess Daisy behind her back, but secretly loves her madly, everyone does. She calls him Geek Davis right to his face. Abigail is Daisy’s assistant. She does everything for Daisy. Billy approached Abigail one rainy day with a new/old problem. “Abigail my dear, have you seen this one?” He flips open his laptop to expose a screen-sized picture of gentle Daisy, naked in a barn, spread eagled on a bale of hay, next to two goats and a cowboy.

Abigail lets out a blood curdling scream, then it’s “Oh my God!” She grabs hold of Billy’s computer and runs to show J.T. the latest infraction of Daisy Brin’s public virtue, still screaming.

“They’re at it again!” Abigail still hysterical, “Look what they’ve done to our darling Daisy, J.T., look!” She turns Billy’s laptop screen toward Mr. Witting.

“I promise you Abby,” J.T., as reassuring to frazzled Abigail as possible, “we will find the creep who’s been violating our dear Daisy and stop him for good. I promise!”

“And Abby, one more thing, don’t tell Daisy.”

“Trust me J.T., she already knows.”

Billy and his friend from California Tech, Marsha worked for two days using every computer trick they could think of to locate the perverter of Daisy Brin’s cinematic persona. They found Jerry Dalton’s mom and dad’s house address, without too much trouble, then figured out that the mystery porn-boy was Jerry.  J.T. and a group of four studio security guards/mercenaries dropped by that very afternoon, intent on straightening Jerry out, one way or another.

Jerry’s mom, in her fuzzy-duck slippers and green plaid bathrobe, would not let them into her house, but allowed J.T. alone, to speak with her son out on the front porch. Jerry was cooperative to a point. He agreed to stop crafting “Brin porn,” as J.T. called it, but Jerry had one condition. He wanted to meet Daisy in person.

At first J.T. refused straight out, but he knew from his own worldly experience that Jerry would not yield unless his single demand was met, and J.T. wanted “Brin porn” to stop immediately, for reasons that any studio executive would understand. “The sooner the better,” J.T. grumbled into the California air.

“Can you believe it mom? I’m going to meet Daisy Brin” said an excited Jerry, “my Daisy Brin.” Poor dear Jerry, thought his mom.


J.T.’s studio limo picked up Jerry the next morning for a two-hour visit with the young, innocent Miss Brin, on-set. A nervous Jerry knocked on Daisy’s trailer door and waited for what seemed like a long time. Right before his eyes she suddenly appeared, a little taller than he expected, wearing distressed blue-jeans and a white men’s style shirt. She was every bit as adorable as Jerry had imagined, but with boobs under her white men’s style shirt. Of considerable size, thought Jerry.

On film, Daisy is portrayed as an eleven-year old, clear eyed and innocent. Daisy’s eyes were clear and bright for sure, but she was not eleven, nor was she so very innocent looking. Jerry’s thoughts bounced around a bit.

“So, you’re the guy.” Jerry was a little shocked to hear Daisy speak in person for the first time.

“Yes Miss Brin, it’s me, I’m the guy.” Jerry can be a little odd around girls.

“Why do you do those dreadful things to me? Is there something wrong with the way I look, or how I am? Please tell me!”

Daisy straightened her back, standing slim and tall, filling her men’s style shirt with soft good-sized boobs. She smiled professionally at Jerry, and asked the very surprised young man, “What do you think?”

Jerry began to feel queasy, like a young werewolf might right before the change. This is better than Photoshop he said to himself nearly out loud - way better.

Daisy took two steps forward and was on him in a split second, her soft pink lips kissing him strong and wet. “It’s Jerry Dalton, isn’t it?” she knowingly inquired. He was smothered by Daisy’s femaleness and affection, so much so that he could not answer. It was the most amazing day of his life.

Jerry fell asleep late that evening and dreamt of Daisy. He could still picture her naked on the trailer settee, her touch, the taste of sweet kisses and her amazing boobs. He enjoyed this dream and hoped that he would dream it every night for the rest of his life.


“I may never get over it,” Jerry confessed to Mr. Peterson the following Tuesday at their scheduled meeting. “She looked… just like a naked angel - way nicer than I could have manufactured myself. Almost as slutty, but way nicer, beautiful, really beautiful. I’m in love with her, for sure now.”


Jerry has gone through some serious changes over the past few months. He has recently been “discovered” by Daisy’s studio for his unusual skill at Photoshop and has secured part-time work creating advertising for B and C class movies. So far he’s Photoshopped the head of not-so-famous Marion Lee onto the body of a huge green iguana for the film “Iguana Vacation,” and even-less-famous Kelly Marquette’s onto that of a nineteen-foot-tall giraffe, for no reason that he can think of. It’s fun, he gets to do what he loves doing and gets paid pretty-well for it.

Jerry is now romantically involved with Daisy and sees her whenever she’s back in town. He’s lost interest in “Brin porn,” probably because he now enjoys authentic sexual activity with the lovely Daisy, and sees her in the altogether often, and loves what he sees. He has however, begun a new series of altered photographs, similar to those of his previous “Daisy Project,” but based, for the most part, on Penelope and Kerry. Jerry was thinking about including Trudy in his new collection, but he loves his sister too much, just the way she is.

“Why do you do such terrible things to your pretty friends Penelope and Kerry,” Mr. Peterson asked Jerry one afternoon. “They are such nice girls, and if they ever find out its you Jerry, you could be in real trouble.”

“They’re not so darned nice Mr. Peterson,” responds Jerry. “And believe me Mr. P., they already know.”







About the Author:

Donald Zagardo

Donald Zagardo is a former Professor of Modern History at St. John’ University, New York. He has a life-long passion for literature of all kinds. In the past few years he has directed his writing efforts toward producing short stories – searching for unusual topics. This story, “Harmless Perversion” is his first submission to Adelaide. He is presently assembling a collection of his own stories. Donald lives and works in New York City and enjoys international travel and photography.










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