CHAPTER 3

Jack's return to the physical world was a harsh splash of reality, washing away the lingering effects of his digital existence. It was early morning, the bedroom bathed in a mellow, dappled light as the sun began to rise, casting long, lazy shadows across the floor. Jack rubbed at his weary eyes, mind still swirling with the vivid memories of his time as Patricia. Her taste was like a drug in his veins, a potent cocktail of power, sensuality, and liberation that intoxicated him, seeping into every corner of his thoughts. He sat up, a wave of fatigue washing over him. His body felt heavy, weighted down by the phantom curves of Patricia.

“Honey, breakfast!” Sarah’s voice cut through the air, a familiar chime reaching his ears. The smell of fresh biscuits wafted through the room. His stomach rumbled in response, but Jack was too engrossed in his thoughts to care about food.

“I’ll be right there, Sarah!” Jack called out. His voice echoed in the emptiness, breaking the silence. He made his way to the kitchen, every step he took felt mechanical, robotic. He was going through the motions of a man that wasn’t altogether there.

“Here you go,” Sarah said, handing him a plate stacked high with biscuits. Jack took one absentmindedly, barely glancing at her as he turned to leave.

“Hey! Are you forgetting something?” Sarah called after him. “My kiss.”

Jack paused, turning around with a sheepish smile. “Oh, sorry, Sarah.” He leaned in, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. It was over in a second, a perfunctory gesture devoid of any real emotion. As he pulled away, he saw the confusion flicker in her eyes.

“That's the first time you've ever forgotten to...” her voice trailed off, but Jack was already halfway out of the room, his body along with his mind heading back to the machine.

The VR room beckoned him, the walls echoing with the siren call of Patricia. Jack felt his pulse quicken as he stepped inside, the cool air of the room caressing his skin. He paused at the threshold, looking back towards the kitchen, a pang of guilt gnawing at him. Shaking his head, he pushed those thoughts away, locking the door behind him.

Jack slipped on the helmet, the cool plastic against his skin grounding him in reality for the last few moments. "Just one more time," he whispered to himself, justifying his obsession. With a deep breath, he selected 'Patricia v2' and surrendered to the intoxicating rush of transformation once more.

As he initiated the transformation, Jack braced himself for the sudden wave of changes. His chest tightened and expanded, his waist cinched in, his hips filled out, and his hair lengthened, brushing against the newly formed curves of his body. 

His face felt the shift next, cheekbones raising and softening, nose shrinking to a dainty size, lips plumping into a seductive pout. He looked down, watching as his clothes morphed, changing from his drab t-shirt and jeans into Patricia's same elegant, form-fitting outfit. It was a surreal sight, one that he'd experienced before but still left him in awe.

Once the transformation was completed, Jack — now Patricia — stood up, teetering slightly on the high heels that now adorned her feet. The familiar thrill washed over him, followed by the undeniable surge of pleasure. He felt whole again, and more than ready to take on the VR world once again.

"Let's have some fun." He said, looking himself over. "Hm. I have an idea. But this outfit won't do."

* * *

Jack entered the bustling virtual dance club, the scene was a blur of flashing neon lights, pulsating music, and swaying bodies. Jack soaked in his surroundings, looking down at the crowd from above. He was clad in a stellar new dress. 

The dress was a stunning spectacle, a splash of vibrant pink. It was an exquisite cocktail dress, hugging her curves perfectly, and shimmering as it caught the light, sparkling like a diamond. The dress's sequins glittered with every movement she made. The pink dress had a plunging neckline that showcased Patricia's enhanced cleavage, the fabric cascading delicately over her voluptuous form and cinching at the waist to accentuate her hourglass figure. At the back, the dress featured a low scoop, revealing a swath of smooth, glowing skin that contrasted starkly with the scintillating fabric. From there, the dress flowed down to mid-thigh, clinging to her hips before finally ending in long sexy legs. The dress was daring, bold, and undeniably sexy. As she made her way deeper into the club, she could feel the lured gazes of the virtual people gawking at her.

It was an intoxicating sensation. With every admiring glance he received, his heart fluttered and his skin tingled, as his mind flooded with a wave of dopamine. The pleasure was magnetic, addictive. "I'm the center of their attention," he thought, Patricia's heart pounding in rhythm with the music.

Drawing a deep breath, he stepped onto the dance floor, the vibrant lights cascading over her. As he danced to the music, to his astonishment, her form moved fluidly, each sway and twist sending another dopamine rush through his system. He could feel the beat pulsing, her body responding instinctively. The flare of her hips, the rhythmic twerk, the sensual roll of her hands along the curves of her figure — it was all so natural, so exhilarating.

As the crowd grew denser, more men began to approach him, attempting to dance with him. However, he dismissed them one after the other, feeling a sense of power in his ability to choose. Their interest in her was intoxicating, but none of them seemed "worthy" enough. But then Jack felt something, a presence he had not felt since...

He recognized the man before he saw him completely, briefly catching his figure behind the crowd of faceless dancers. A strange thrill sparked within him as the man turned, and their eyes locked. He was the same hunk from the mall. A square jaw, broad shoulders, and huge muscles brimming with masculinity. His eyes were a deep ocean blue that seemed to see right through him, through her, making them feel exposed, desired, and even vulnerable.

An involuntary shiver ran down his spine as the stud approached and extended his hand, inviting him to dance. There was a peculiar kind of gravity around him, pulling him closer, an invisible thread tethering them. Jack hesitated for a moment, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. But then, Patricia's hand moved on it's own, placing hers in his. She let him guide her to the pulsating center of the dance floor.

Her hips swayed to the music, the sparkling pink dress catching the light and creating a dazzling display. He felt the heat of his body close to hers, their movements synchronized in an intimate dance. The man led with a firm but gentle hand, his other resting on the small of her back, occasionally pressing her closer. Each touch sent a shiver of excitement through Jack, creating a feedback loop that made the dance more intoxicating with every passing moment.

Internally, Jack wrestled with the emotions welling up within him. The admiring looks they were drawing made him feel alive, desired, and powerful. It was a euphoria that he hadn't anticipated, and it seemed to grow with every swaying movement of his hips, every appreciative glance, every caress from this gorgeous man.

As the dance continued, it became increasingly intense. The man's hand, initially resting politely on Patricia's hip, began to explore, moving along the curve of her waist and skimming the edges of her breasts. Each touch felt like a direct connection to that fountain of dopamine, causing her body to respond in kind. Her movements became more sensual, her hips grinding against him to the beat with an increasingly suggestive rhythm. 

Despite the rising pleasure, a corner of Jack's mind was awash with confusion and alarm. The feelings were addictive, and he found himself yearning for more, but there was also a part of him that recoiled. He felt out of his depth, uncertain, yet undeniably aroused. His mind flashed back to his life outside the virtual world, to his wife Sarah. But here, in the club, as Patricia, with the music and lights and the beefcake of a man, he felt an allure he couldn't deny.

Jack was twerking against him now, looking back over his shoulder. He witnessed Patricia's peach-shaped ass rapidly rubbing up and down the man's crotch. The stud's 'manhood' grew and grew in his pants, sliding perfectly between Patricia's butt cheeks. He could see the desire in the man's eyes. This was no longer just a dance; it was a mating ritual. His voice, when he leaned in and whispered, "Your place or mine?" sent a rush of excitement through Jack, his heart pounding against his breasts. Dopamine. Dopamine. Dopamine. 

Unthinking, Jack opened the VR environment menu. His fingers hovered over the selections. The familiar flicker of apprehension was there, but so was the thrill, the wild, addictive rush. He glanced back at the hunk one more time before he selected "Bedroom", the confirming sound of the beep echoing in his mind as the club began to warp and fade. 

Inside the lavishly decorated VR bedroom, the atmosphere was thick with desire and tension. Jack noted the dimmed light reflecting off the white satin sheets of the king-size bed, a flickering fireplace crackling in the corner, casting erratic shadows dancing along the walls. It was an environment tailored for the sensuous and the intimate. Jack seemed to instinctively understand, as he looked towards the chiseled man and gave him his best sexy pose, with one of his fingers suggestively pulling down Patricia's thick bottom lip. 

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god." Jack thought to himself. "What am I doing? These feelings... God! They're so strong. I... I like men. Big strong men. Mmm. But how?" 

The 'man', tall and muscular, his face a rugged charm, was watching him. Jack's heart skipped a beat, feeling his gaze on Patricia's body, his eyes lingering on her curves. Jack was strangely aware of the fact that he was playing the part of Patricia, but he couldn't stop it. It felt right, the burning feeling of desire and submission mingling within him.

"What's your name?" the man asked, his voice was smooth like chocolate, warm and inviting.

"Patricia," he heard himself reply, the name flowing out of him with surprising ease.

A small smile appeared on the man's lips as he moved closer. Jack could feel Patricia's body responding, moving closer as if pulled by an invisible force. Her body, covered in the sensuous, sparkling pink dress, seemed to have a life of its own, moving with a fluidity and grace that Jack could never possess. With the sultry rhythm of the bedroom's music pulsating softly in the background, Jack moved in closer, high heels clicking against the hardwood floor, echoing in the near silence of the room.  Her hips swayed naturally and her hands elegantly trailed along her curves before coming to rest subjectively across her ample breasts. The faint smell of the man's cologne grew stronger as he approached, making his head spin.

Finally, their bodies met. Jack could feel Patricia's softness pressing against the firm muscles of the man. A jolt of heat traveled through her body - his body - leaving an electrifying trail in its wake. Her slender arms snaked up around his neck, pulling him even closer in an intimate embrace. 

Their lips met in a searing kiss, their bodies melding together, Patricia's curves squishing and contorting even more against the man's hard musculature. The world outside Patricia's body seemed to dim, the focus narrowing down to the man's lips on hers, his hands roaming her body. There was a strange, euphoric mix of fear, excitement, and intense pleasure welling up inside Jack as he let Patricia take control. The conflicting emotions gave way to an insatiable need, a throbbing that grew stronger with every passing second.

"Wait... what am I doing?" Jack wondered, the rational part of his mind kicking in. But it was soon drowned by the growing waves of pleasure, the taste of the man on his lips, this Adonis pressing against this Aphrodite. "Fuck it."

Patricia grabbed the man, spun him around, and pushed him onto the bed. The man laid back on the sheets, gazing up at Patricia's body, impressed.  

"I should try new things," Jack said, Patricia's sultry voice coming in clearer now.  "I deserve this. For so long I've been a good little husband."

"Wait what?! Ok, hold on. Are you a... a.... man?" He spoke with a worried tone, ready to sit up.

"Mmmm. Do I look like a man?" As he spoke, Jack pull down the front of his dress and grasp two handfuls of huge ripe breasts. His tits eased into the pressure of his fingers, looking like two giant water balloons ready to explode.  "Do I... look... like a.... man." Came a pure and sensuous tone, as he spread out his legs and lifted up the bottom of his dress, revealing Patricia's perfect pussy. 

"No baby. You definitely do not." The stud replied, as he quickly began to strip, while Jack, as Patricia, did the same.

The both of them slung their clothes aside and began to ogle each other's naked form. Patricia's body squirmed at the sight, her thick thighs rubbing together. Jack made a choice, right then and there. He was going to 'let her out', he was going to know what it felt like to be a slutty bitch, to be Patricia.

"Mmm. You're ripped. I knew it." Patricia said, with a voice that showed no hint of his male self now. He was truly getting into the role. "And... fuck! Look at that... thing."

Patricia slowly slinked towards the python connected to the man laying back on the bed. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. A switch in her mind flipped on, this rod, this cock, was all that mattered now. Patricia's hand reached out to touch it, inch by inch. Then, one finger at a time, she grasps it.

"Mmmm. So meaty." She offered a single slow pump to all nine inches, making the man moan. "Oh? You like that?"

Another pump and then another. She was jacking him off like a pro now, the knowledge just came to her. She spit on her palms to make them nice and lubricated, her wrists were limber, she had just the right rhythm, and she stared him directly in the eyes while cradling the balls. Patricia felt an odd sense of ownership over the dick. It was hers. "Mine." She let out in a low whisper. 

As she continued to stroke it up and down, she noticed her lips were drooling, she was salivating. "Mine." She said again, and slowly yet surely she lowered her head directly over the man's cock, her plump lips centimeters away. "Say it. Who's cock is this?" She commanded, taunting his member with circular motions of the tip of her tongue.  

"Y- yours." The hunk easily relented. 

"Mmmm." The feeling of bending this man's will, breaking him down to his base instincts with the lure of her body, was divine. It was what she deserved. "Good boy." 

She rewarded him. Patricia's head went straight down, mouth wide open, lips puckered forward, and throat opened like a champ, as if this wasn't her first rodeo. "Gawk! Gawk! Gawk!" Patricia bobbed her head up and down, taking in the length of the shaft, holding there deep, and then coming back up to breathe with moisture in her eyes. She did this over and over. It drove him crazy.

The man's body seemed to quiver. He was ready to erupt, but Patricia sense this immediately and halted her heavenly blow job.

"No! Not yet. I want it. I need it... inside me." Patricia proclaimed, and she felt the truth of it. She needed this huge man-tool deep inside her womb. The hunger was all-consuming, and it paled in comparison to any craving she felt before, even with her wife Claire. The desire to be fucked by a man felt like some sort of inevitable force, like the all-encompassing pull of gravity, or the glorious brightness of the sun.

Patricia climbed up to the euphoric hunk and squatted over him. Then she reached down, grapped his shaft, and teased the tip of his mushroom with her cunt. 

"Tell me," She started, as she continued to tantalize his cock. "What would you do for me? What would you give me? To have me? Hmm?"

"I... mmm... I...," He stuttered, his simulated mind spinning in a lustful loop. "... I ... anything! I'll do anything for you! Please! Just put it in! My balls are aching!"

The declaration greatly pleased Patricia. It was the icing on the cake. Then it dawned on her. She didn't just need to be fucked, she need to be fucked by someone who was obsessed with her, feared her... worshiped her. With that thought lingering in her mind, with blissful vindication, she adorned a wicked smile, rolled her eyes to the back of her head, and lowered her perfect body onto his, the girthy cock gliding easily into her dripping cunt.

"Ung! Oh!" Patricia squealed as she was 'entered'. She came back up with a sloppy sound, only to skewer herself again with a slap. "I'm... I'm fucking a man! I'm a... I'm a slutty bitch... fucking this thick hard dick! You're mine now! Ung! Ung! Haha! You're mine! You can't resist me! You big dumb bull!"

Patricia's long blonde hair began to dance wildly as she bounced on her new toy. Her hands smash her undulating tits and grasped her thick toned booty.  As she rode him, she reveled in her conquest. She claimed him with her pussy and she loved it. This is what she lived for. Capturing cocks in her snatch, extracting gifts and promises from the dumb man that was attached to it. She knew, deep down, that each time she let this young stud fuck her, simulated or not, he would be more and more ensnared, more obedient, more her slave. This was her purpose, she was complete.

"I... I... I gonna... I... is... gonna..." The man mumbled, attempting to complete a single thought.

"Yes. Do it! Cum inside me. Fill me with your man juice!" Patricia howled, doubling her efforts. She was like an unchained beast now, her hands on her face, her breasts flying fiercely, and the slaps of their bodies were like sonic booms. And then...

Patricia was nuked. Her face contorted into an insane smile, eyes wide, tongue free. The man emptied his balls into her, splashing her virtual canal with loads of his simulated semen. She convulsed violently and her mind went blank, as a wave of raw pleasure coursed through her porn star body. 

She saw God and then collapsed.