CHAPTER 4

That evening Jack found himself drifting in and out of consciousness until the morning sun peeked through the blinds of the bedroom. He was physically in bed next to his wife, Sarah, but his mind was somewhere else. It was with Patricia. The excitement, the dominance, the thrill, it was all he could think about.

He got up from the bed, barely making a noise. As he walked towards the VR room, he could hear the faint sound of Claire stirring. She called out his name softly, the concern in her voice evident. He didn't answer.

Entering this room felt like entering a sanctuary, a place of worship. As he went through the ritual of sliding the VR headset over his eyes, he took a deep breath, anticipating the exhilarating sensation that came with the transformation. He was ready.

The world loaded up, and he navigated the virtual interface, his eyes immediately finding the Patricia V2 icon. He selected it without hesitation, his heart pounding in anticipation. The transformation process began, and Jack felt an indescribable rush as his male avatar began morphing into the stunningly beautiful Patricia.

* * *

The cityscape melted into a high-class bar, rich with the heady aroma of premium liquor and soft, mellow jazz. Patricia stepped into the sultry ambiance, her every movement a study in grace and allure. Jack, perched on the threshold of Patricia's consciousness, marveled at the sensation of smooth silk caressing her skin, the perfect fit of her cocktail dress accentuating her voluptuous curves.

The room buzzed with well-dressed socialites, the clinking of their glasses and their laughter creating a lively backdrop. Yet, Patricia's gaze was drawn to a man sitting alone at the far end of the bar, the epitome of power and prestige. His tailored suit, the expensive watch, and his focused demeanor - all markers of his immense wealth. This man was to be her first prey, her first sugar daddy.

Crossing the room with swaying hips, Patricia slid onto the barstool next to him, offering him a provocative smile. Jack could feel the rush, a thrilling mix of fear and excitement.

"Is this seat taken?" Patricia asked, her voice a sultry purr.

The man glanced at her, the initial surprise on his face morphing into an appreciative smile. "I believe it is now."

"Is that so?" Patricia replied with a teasing smirk. "And who do I have the pleasure of stealing the seat from?"

He extended a hand. "The name's Richard. Richard St. James."

Jack in the backseat of Patricia's mind delighted in the thrill of the chase. Richard St. James, the wealthy tycoon who owned half the city, was just a typical guy in the face of Patricia's charms.

Richard’s eyes were held captive by Patricia's allure, the sensual way she crossed her legs, the subtle hint of her cleavage, the intoxicating perfume she wore. Yet he held a reserved distance like he was used to women throwing themselves at him. A challenge, Patricia realized, one she was thrilled to accept. Her body rewarded her for the thought.

“Richard St. James,” Patricia drew out each syllable of his name like it was a delicacy, “I've always liked that name.”

The faint surprise that crossed Richard's features was almost imperceptible, but Patricia caught it. “Really now? You've heard of me?”

She tilted her head coyly. “Maybe.” She left the statement hanging in the air, fueling Richard's curiosity.

As the night progressed, the barrier of Richard's resistance started to crumble. It was in the way his eyes softened when he looked at her, the increasing frequency of his touch on her hand, the way he laughed at her stories. But Patricia knew she had truly captivated him when he said, “Patricia, how about we move this conversation to a more private setting?”

The slow seduction had worked its magic, and Richard was hooked. Patricia looked at him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Lead the way, Richard St. James.”

Richard's hotel penthouse was as luxurious as Patricia had imagined it would be. Overlooking the city's skyline, the room was a symphony of rich dark woods and opulent furnishings, a testament to his success and wealth.

Richard ordered champagne, and as she watched him pour the bubbly liquid, she saw a hint of the man he really was beneath all the wealth and power - lonely, yearning for something more, something exciting. But all Patricia was offering was an illusion, and she had no qualms about it.

Patricia sipped the champagne, realizing that she felt a bit tipsy.

"Wow. So real." Jack said, holding his head, briefly talken out of the moment.

"What's that?" Richard asked, momentarily confused.

"Nothing." She glanced at Richard from the corner of her eye, he was watching her intently, a soft look in his eyes. He moved closer to her, his hand resting lightly on her waist. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple of pleasure through her.

“Patricia,” he began, his voice deeper, “Maybe I'm a little drunk, but I’ve never met a woman quite like you before. You’re…” he searched for the right word, “bewitching.”

Patricia smiled, stepping closer to him. She could see his breath hitch, his eyes flickering down to her lips. “Most people find me… intimidating.”

Richard chuckled, “Oh, you are. But that’s part of the allure, isn’t it?”

"Yes. It is." Her voice soft and sensual. Slowly, she started to undo the buttons of her dress, revealing just enough to make his breath hitch.

Patricia let the dress fall from her shoulders, the fabric whispering against her skin as it slid down to pool at her feet. Her body, naked and carnal, was illuminated by the city lights filtering through the room's large windows. She stood sublty swaying her body, as her hands circled her huge inviting breasts, nipples thick and pointed. There was a quiet gasp from Richard, his eyes taking in every curve and angle of her physique. It was like nothing he'd seen before. 

She had him now; he was hers. The power dynamics had flipped, and she was in control. The silence in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken desires. Patricia took a step towards him, her eyes never leaving his. She stopped just a breath away, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.

"Do you like what you see, Richard?" she asked, her voice dropping to a sultry purr.

He swallowed audibly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "You're... breathtaking, Patricia." His voice was hoarse, filled with restrained desire.

She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingers. "Good," she said, smirking as she stepped back. The sudden absence of her warmth made Richard's gaze snap to hers, confusion clear in his eyes.

"But that's all for tonight," Patricia said, the smirk turning into a full-blown smile as Richard's jaw dropped in surprise. "You have my number."

With that, she picked up her dress, her body once again hidden from his view. She moved towards the door, her steps purposeful and slow. As she reached the door, she turned around, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Until next time, Richard St. James."

And with that, Patricia stepped out into the hallway, leaving a flabbergasted man in her wake, setting a precedent for their dynamic. The night had been a success, and she knew he was hooked. Curiously she felt another pulse of pleasure at the thought, another reward. Jack wondered. Was this body doing something to him? Was it conditioning him? But he shrugged it off. It felt good, it was fun. How could it be bad?
She gave one last little wave and closed the door behind her, a sense of satisfaction washing over her. This was just the beginning. And she was going to enjoy every bit of it.

* * * 

Back in the VR suite, Jack didn't waste any time. He navigated through the menus and set the scene for their next encounter with Richard: an intimate dinner date at a posh restaurant. The anticipation prickled beneath his skin as he selected Patricia again and hit 'Start.'

* * * 

The glamorous simulation of an upscale dining establishment formed the backdrop for Patricia and Richard's evening. With the sounds of soft chatter and clinking silverware humming in the background, the couple enjoyed an air of intimacy, a crystal chandelier hung above, casting a mellow light that added to the ambiance.

Patricia and Richard were nestled into a plush secluded corner booth, their bodies a hair's breadth apart. Richard's status was clear from his choice of a tailored suit, while Patricia's own sparkling gown made a different kind of statement, one of allure and sensuality. His body language was rigid, revealing a tension. Patricia noticed, and her body responded almost of its own accord, leaning in closer to him, letting her fingers lightly trace a path up his arm. A warm wave of pleasure flowed through her, reinforcing her action.

Richard mustered a half-hearted smile, his eyes not quite meeting hers. “It's nothing, Patricia. Let's just focus on enjoying our evening.”

Even in an artificial simulated world this this, the subtleties of human interaction remain complex and nuanced. But Patricia found herself navigating these intricacies effortlessly, guided by a peculiar system of internal feedback that seemed to exist in the depths of her virtual consciousness.

"Patricia," Richard said, pulling her out of her introspection, "Do you find all this appealing?" He gestured around them, indicating the lavish lifestyle the simulation provided.

She felt a tinge of unease at his question, but her body seemed to intuit the right response. Her lips curved into a teasing smile. "It's charming," she admitted, "but what truly appeals to me, Richard, is a man who knows what he wants. Do you know what you want Richard? " Her words came as a surprise, even to her, but a wave of pleasure washed over her, indicating the rightness of her response.

As the night wore on, Patricia was constantly guided and directed by this strange interplay of pleasure and discomfort. At one point, her hand wandered up to play with a lock of her hair, a subconscious habit. But a jolt of pain stung her, halting the movement. Instead, her hand reached out to delicately trace the rim of her wine glass, a gesture that seemed to captivate Richard, much to her gratification.

On another occasion, Richard asked about her background. Once again, her body instinctively guided her response, piece by piece she crafted an intriguing narrative that was rich in detail yet shrouded in mystery. Each beguiling lie she divulged was accompanied by a rush, reinforcing the direction of her words.

Toward the end of their dinner, Richard began discussing his philanthropic efforts. She was about to change the subject, but the prickling sensation returned, so instead she encouraged him to share more, feeding his ego while probing for ways she could benefit from his generosity. This new tactic brought forth an even stronger rush of dopamine, and Patricia knew she was on the right track. Each moment was another step in her dance of seduction, Patricia guided by the ballet of pleasure and discomfort that her body provided.

The ultimate test came when Richard made his confession.

Richard’s voice broke through her musings. “Patricia…” He swallowed hard, his grip around his wine glass tightening. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

She looked at him, anticipation written across her face. “Yes, Richard?”

“I'm… I’m married, Patricia. This…this has to end.”

Richard’s confession dropped like a stone in a serene pond, rippling the atmosphere with its sudden weight. “Did you hear me? I’m married, Patricia,” he stammered, his gaze skittering away from hers, the confidence momentarily drained from his demeanor.

A rush of panic surged within Patricia, at a revelation she hadn't anticipated. She definitely didn't expect this Richard program to be married. Yet, before she could say a thing, she was visited by a peculiar thrill, an exhilarating sensation that rippled through her virtual body. Something about this was igniting her senses, she seemed to revel in it. Her previously dwindling confidence swelled, coursing through her like a wild river.

“My darling Richard,” Patricia purred, leaning in closer to him. Her hand smoothly slid under the table, coming to rest on Richard's crotch. A soft gasp left Richard's lips, his eyes wide in surprise and faint alarm. 

“What are you doing?” he managed to whisper.

Her lips curved into a sultry smile, a finger running idle circles on top of his member. “Shhh, just let it happen. Trust me, Richard,” she replied, her voice a soothing melody that eased his tension.

Almost immediately she felt his snake expand in his pants. Pressed against his leg by the fabric, Richard's cock grew several inches down his leg. As her fingers deftly worked his zipper, a realization blossomed in Patricia. This wasn't just a simple seduction anymore. It was a game of conquest, one where she intended to emerge victorious. The thrill of breaking a marriage, of taking a man who belonged to someone else, and leaving chaos in her wake was intoxicating. Her VR body was feeding off this intoxication, the pleasure centers alight, amplifying the illicit gratification coursing through her.

Patricia expertly fished out his dick, feeling the throbbing meatiness of it. Richard's eyes darted around, like a disturbed statue, but no one was watching. His eyes returned to meet Paticria's, as she slowly began to work his shaft in public. 

Richard's alarm gradually faded, replaced by a look of enraptured surrender. Patricia cooed sweetly, “That’s it, baby. Let yourself enjoy the moment. Isn't it liberating to let go?” Her hand continued to work its magic under the table, the danger of the nearby crowd, laughing, chatting, eating, and unaware, amplifying the thrill.

Patricia was slightly surprised when the waiter arrived at their table, but she didn't show it, and she didn't stop stroking Richards's cock, with perfect rhythmic pumps. The young man, with a polite smile, asked, “Are you ready to order dessert, madam, sir?”

Patricia's hidden hand stroked a little faster, as she turned to Richard and ask, "What do you think, babe?" Richard choked on pleasure and shock, looked as if he'd been caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle, unable to articulate a response.

Patricia, however, maintained her composure, her thumb tracing the tip of Richard's dick, then back to pumping it again. “Why, yes. We would love to try your special dessert, the chocolate soufflé. Two servings, please.”

The waiter scribbled their order and looked to Richard. “Would you like anything else, sir?” he asked, but Richard remained silent, his jaw clenched in silent pleasure, as he simply stared at the waiter.

“Oh, he is quite satisfied with the soufflé, aren't you darling? Why he's so excited, he's about to burst.” Patricia chimed in, her voice imbued with mirth.

“Very well, madam. I will be back with your dessert shortly,” the waiter said, unaware.

Once they were alone again, Patricia turned her attention back to Richard. She slowed her heavenly hand job down to a nice, soothing pace.

“Aw, poor Richard,” Patricia said, moving in closer. Her lips nearly touched his ear, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Your wife doesn't touch you like this. Does she? Too proper, too conservative? Such a goody-good girl.”

Richard's eyes widened at her words, unable to refute them. Patricia pressed on, relishing the control she had over him. A huge steady flow of dopamine coursing through her.

“I'm not a good girl, Richard. I love making men feel good. I'd let you put it anywhere, Richard. This is just the beginning. I can make you feel things you've never dreamed of. Things your sad good wife could never do. Just... leave her.”

Her words, coupled with her touch, were too much for Richard. All he could do was nod, a silent agreement to the heady promise Patricia offered. Patricia loomed over his crotch and spit a long stream of saliva onto his dick. As it trickle down his shaft, her hand, still stroking, collected the natural lubricant and smeared it all up and down his throbbing cock. 

"Say it." She pumped faster. "Say it." And faster.

Richard looked up at the ceiling, "Y... yesssss. I'll... leave... her."

Patricia gave a cruel smile. "Good boy." 

Just as Richard was teetering on the edge, Patricia withdrew her hand. The sudden absence of her touch left Richard disoriented and breathless. He looked at her, desperation bleeding into his desire. "I...I must have you. Please," he gasped.

Patricia’s eyes sparkled with wicked delight. She leaned back, relishing the sight of the man, so composed and put together, unraveled by her touch. “Well, Richard," she purred, her victory tasting even sweeter than the dessert they were about to have, "It looks like our night is just getting started."