Womanized

by Nikki Crescent

  I opened the billfold and was shocked to see a series of zeros adding up to a total of zero. The little redhead must have comped my meal. There was a handwritten note at the bottom of the receipt. “Meet me in the women’s bathroom,” it read. My heart was pounding now. I got up carefully and walked slowly and casually over to the long hallway. The bathrooms were up a flight of stairs, past a funky looking ATM, and away from the bustling restaurant. I looked around before slipping into the bathroom.

  And the redhead was standing there with a big smile on her face. She walked over to me and then planted a kiss on my lips. Her lips were soft and plump. “Tastes like maple syrup,” she said with a grin. She reached behind me and locked the door. “Do you want to suck my nipples?”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Um, yeah, sure,” I said.

  She grabbed the base of her tank top and lifted it over her head, exposing her bra-less tits. They were small—A-cups at most. She cupped them, keeping her nipples exposed. I didn’t waste any more time. I leaned in and started sucking, making them hard and erect. She sunk her fingers into my hair and moaned, “That feels so fucking good.”

  I slowly sunk down to my knees, reaching up her skirt for her panties. I gave them a little tug, bringing them down to her knees. Her cock and balls curled out, looking as though they’d been squashed in for at least a few hours. “Oops,” she said with a playful voice.

  I looked up into her eyes as my heart skipped yet another beat. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked with a big grin.

  And I could only reply with a grin. I took her little dick and I sunk it into my mouth. She was like me: a beautiful tranny. While I sucked her, I reached down, under my own skirt, and started to massage my cock, getting myself hard. I’d always wanted to fool around with another trap like me, but they were surprisingly hard to find, especially in a city like Paris.

  She started out small but became surprisingly huge. I couldn’t believe how hard she got. I couldn’t even bend her down; she was so hard. I had to stand up slightly and tilt my head down so that I could keep sucking her. I sucked until pre-cum was oozing out from her tip. I tried deep-throating her, nestling my nose into her soft ginger pubic hair. She squeezed two handfuls of my hair and pulled. It hurt a bit, but I didn’t mind.

  “Stand up,” she demanded, so I stood up. She quickly flipped up my skirt and fished my erection out from my panties. She pressed it firmly against her own and started jerking both of us off with a single hand. She was staring into my eyes, gently biting her bottom lip. “I’ve got one more minute until my break is over,” she said. “But I want to watch you come so badly.” With her free hand, she reached around and started pressing a finger into my ass. “Do you like that?”

  “Yeah,” I said. I felt her long fake nail pressing deep. I clenched along the length of her finger, but that didn’t stop her from finding my sweet spot. She started to thrust her finger up and down while jerking us off together.

  “Please tell me you’re close. I’m close. I want to come together,” she said.

  “I’m close,” I said. I tilted my head back for a deep breath. I closed my eyes for a moment as the euphoria began to pulse between my legs. Then I looked to the side and saw myself in the mirror. And after two panicked seconds, I remembered that I was in a simulation. This wasn’t really happening, though the sensations were certainly real. I could feel her soft skin, and I could feel her cock pulsing against mine. Her body was warm and she smelled amazing. The simulation was shockingly realistic—just as realistic as real life.

  And in that mirror was me, with long brown hair and makeup. I looked good, and I looked like a girl, but I still looked like me. Those were still my eyes; that was still my nose, my ears, my chin, and even my body. I looked pretty good as a woman. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would look that good as a woman in real life, or if the simulation was softening a few edges for my sake.

  That euphoria was overwhelming now. My knees buckled in my tall heels. I looked back at the redhead. She was smiling with dark red cheeks. “I’m coming,” she said. I looked down just as a blast of hot cum shot up from her cock. It landed right on the tip of my cock, covering my hole. But it wasn’t enough to stop my cum from erupting upwards. I coated her penis with my load and she coated mine with hers. She spread all of it up and down, and then she even brought a big glob up to my lips. I only opened my mouth slightly before she thrust her fingers inside. Once I had a taste, she gave herself a little taste. “I should get back to work,” she said.

  “I should get back to real life,” I replied.

  In the hallway was a termination unit, which I thought was an ATM on my way up the stairs. I walked over and saw the text on the screen. “Would you like to end your simulation?”

  I pressed the yes button, and suddenly I was staring at my blank ceiling. My heart was pounding, and I was once again covered in my sticky substance. I’d once again forgotten to put on a condom. “Shit,” I said as I slowly sat up. I used the t-shirt next to my bed to wipe the still-warm jizz off of me.

  I felt strangely embarrassed as I tried to remember why I put that helmet back on. Why did I go back into that sissy simulation? Was it just boredom? Suddenly I remembered: I thought that I would give Michael Peters’s fantasy one last go before I had to return it—not because I liked it, but because I didn’t want to waste the opportunity to live out a one-hundred thousand dollar experience while I had it in my bedroom. Plus I’d gone ahead and skimmed his information book, which was included in the box along with the unit. Sure, this Michael guy was a depraved tranny wannabe, but there was more to his fantasy than just being fucked as a ladyboy. He’d paid for lots of extras: the full Paris package, along with three hundred other major cities. He’d paid for the fancy cars package and the Vegas high-rollers package. He had packages installed in his unit that I’d never even heard of—packages the Smith Gadgets team didn’t even tell me about—maybe because they knew I couldn’t afford them, like the Time Travellers Package. Apparently, there were time travel machines all over Michael’s fantasy world that could take him to many different periods in history—I guess so he could go around fucking historical figures or something, because he also had all of the Famous Peoples Packages installed on his unit.

  After my first romp inside of Michael’s simulation unit, I looked up Clive Anderson. He was a real guy, and he looked and sounded exactly like the simulation that fucked me in the ass. So when I put the unit on for the second time, I was kind of hoping that I would meet another celebrity—maybe someone a bit more famous, who I would actually recognize, and not just the star of some silly action movie from a long time ago.

  I was actually a bit jealous. This Michael guy’s unit had way more to it than the one I was supposed to have. He’d paid about eighty thousand dollars for extras. When I bought my unit, I thought that only suckers would buy all of those extras, but now I was wishing I would have purchased a few myself. Each city was only five hundred bucks. It cost way more than that for flights and hotels in real life, and in the simulation you could stay in five-star hotels that would cost thousands per night in real life. And the Time Travellers package sounded pretty cool as well, I had to admit.

  I finally got the Smith Gadgets people on the phone. “I picked up the wrong unit yesterday afternoon. The one I got belongs to some Michael guy,” I said. And I didn’t mention that I tried the unit out. I was too embarrassed to let them know, assuming they knew what was installed on Michael’s simulation unit.

  “Oh, we’re so sorry about that. You can come by anytime to swap the units out—unless you’ve already used the unit you picked up accidentally. If you’ve used it, you’ll have to go through our customer service, which is at a different location. Should I connect you with customer service?”

  I bit down on my tongue. “Um, yeah, I tried it out quickly before realizing it was the wrong one—but only super quickly. Like, for less than a minute.” My heart was fluttering around in my chest.

  “Oh,
okay, then it will have to go through customer service. Once the device has been activated with a user, it needs to be wiped and reprogrammed. I’ll put you through to our customer service desk. Just a heads up, there may be a bit of a wait as it’s currently peak hours.”

  She put me through. Some gentle music started playing for a minute. Then, a robotic voice said, “You are currently ninetieth in line. The estimated wait time is one hour and forty-five minutes. We appreciate your patience.” The music came back on, and then I hung up. I wasn’t about to wait that long just to be told that I had to wait six weeks to get my unit properly exchanged. I could always call back when it was less busy, maybe in the evening. The customer service line was apparently always open.

  But now, I had nothing to do. I had the day off and I’d originally planned to spend most of it in my simulation. Though I did have Michael’s simulation, and apparently it was due to be wiped and reprogrammed before it reached Michael anyway, so it’s not like there was any harm in me using it again. And it was helping me get more and more comfortable with going in and out of what they called ‘Simulated State.’ I didn’t get that dreadful confusion the last time I was in the system, so maybe this was a good opportunity to get even more comfortable with my Simulated State, as I planned on spending lots of time in my simulation once I had it.

  It wasn’t ideal that I would be a tranny that everyone wanted to fuck, but at least it was something more interesting than my quiet, bland apartment. So I put the helmet on and I slipped into bed. I tried putting a condom on my limp cock, but I couldn’t get it to roll out. So instead, I put a towel down on my torso, to catch any potential cumshots—though I had a feeling that I would clue into the simulation before it got to that point. I wasn’t looking for sex—I just wanted to take in a few Parisian attractions.

  I pressed that big green button and I waited for the simulation to take me away.

  CHAPTER VI

  It was only a few minutes before I realized I was in the simulation. I was walking down a cobblestone street when I caught my reflection and then remembered that I’d never actually been to Paris, and that I wasn’t actually a cross-dresser. Though now that I saw myself all dolled up, in those tall heels and that little black dress, it seemed like a good fit. I liked being pretty and I loved it when guys looked my way—and guys were constantly looking my way.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if my brain functioned differently in the simulation. I could remember drifting off while I was in my bed, waiting for the simulation to work. I could remember telling myself that I would stop at the first clothing store to buy myself some male clothes, and then maybe get myself a haircut. I could turn myself back into a man so that the simulation would be less embarrassing—but now that I was inside the simulation, I liked the idea of keeping things the way they were. And maybe that was just the simulation toying with my brain, convincing me that I looked hot and convincing. Maybe that’s just the way Michael had his unit personally customized. It’s not like I actually wanted to be a trap in the real world. Those thoughts never crossed my mind.

  So I would remain a trap, at least for the time being—but I didn’t have to delve into the sex stuff. I could just enjoy the city: the sights and sounds and smells. Maybe I would get around to one of those museums… But where was I headed? I was walking towards a dark, slimy part of town. The streets here were wet, as if it had recently rained. There were working girls standing on almost every corner.

  And I was dressed like one of them. I stopped and stared at my reflection in a closed store window and saw that I was clad with fishnets and my dress was made out of sheer lace. My red bra and red panties were visible through the tiny outfit. If I wasn’t careful, someone might mistake me for a prostitute. But instead of being terrified by that thought, my heart started to pound with a naughty excitement. Did I want people to think that I was a prostitute? Was I hoping that a car would pull up next to me and ask me for twenty minutes of service? And with all of these strange, foreign thoughts in my head, would I actually do it?

  Maybe I should have never put that helmet back on. Maybe I should have stayed on the line with customer service, so I could get my proper simulation unit into my apartment. Could experiences inside of a simulation affect my real brain? Was it possible to experience regret from a false reality? Did I regret letting that movie star fuck me in the ass? Did I regret rubbing cocks with that redheaded Parisian waitress?

  I felt a sudden glowing on my back. I turned and saw a pair of headlights pulling up next to me. My legs suddenly became stiff as I stood upright. The skirt of my lace dress suddenly felt terribly short. The air suddenly felt cold. I looked around, trying to locate one of those funk ATM machines that could end this simulation.

  The car was fancy—an expensive Mercedes Benz with tinted windows. One of those tinted windows came down slowly, revealing the face of a man wearing big, dark sunglasses. “How much?” he called out to me.

  There was a lump in my throat, preventing me from replying.

  “Don’t worry, beautiful—I don’t bite. How much for an hour? I’ve got the money.” He held a wad of cash out the window—a meaningless gesture, because it wasn’t real cash. In fact, I remembered seeing that as one of Michael’s add-ons: an unlimited credit card. I thought that was funny, that you had to declare that you wanted an unlimited credit card. Why would someone pay for a fantasy simulation with limited funds? Were they supposed to get a job within the simulation? I suppose Michael had his programmed so that he also had a job as a prostitute… even though he had a credit card with infinite money on it.

  “It’s five hundred an hour,” I said. And I couldn’t believe that I said it.

  His window started to roll up. I assumed I was too rich for him and that he was about to drive away, so I was surprised when he said, “Meet me around in the alley,” before the window was closed completely. He drove forward twenty feet and then he turned down the alleyway. I slowly walked down towards his car. He was parked far away from the streetlights, deep in the shadows where no cop cars would spot him.

  As I approached his car, one of the back doors opened. His hand reached out and he waved me in. I carefully bent down and climbed into the back seat. He was already back there, still with his sunglasses on. “How can you see anything?” I asked.

  “I can’t see much,” he said. And then he took the shades off. “You can’t tell anyone that I hired you—you need to promise me that you’ll keep this a secret.” I recognized him immediately: Tim Quaid, the three-time Academy Award winning movie director.

  And I couldn’t believe how real he looked. How did they manage to program him so realistically? How did they get his voice so perfect? He even had that tiny scar on his forehead, which he got from a set explosion during the filming of Thunder. I think that film won five or six Oscars.

  “I’m a trap,” I said, though I don’t know why I said it. A part of me was worried that he would be mad when he found out—and that he would be furious if he found out after we’d already fooled around.

  But he just laughed. “Even better,” he said. And it occurred to me that everyone in Michael’s simulated world would probably be fine with it. Who would want to live in a fantasy simulation while fearing for their simulated life? “I want you to suck my cock.” He reached down and unzipped his fly. He reached into his pants and pulled out a big, heavy dick. It was thick and veiny—and uncircumcised, which I preferred. I bent over and slipped my fingers under it. It was flaccid but still heavy. I aimed it up and sunk it into my mouth. I wondered if the cock was somehow realistically accurate, or if it was just a randomly generated cock. There was no way that Smith Gadgets had Tim Quaid’s cock dimensions on file, and as far as I know, there were no sex tapes of him floating around.

  But the cock was still amazingly realistic. It was still warm and it still throbbed as it grew larger. I stared at it as I pulled back his foreskin. I found myself looking closely at it, trying to see if I could see any signs of computer generation
. I wondered what it would look like under a microscope. Would you be able to see the cells? And under one of those electron microscopes—would you be able to see the atoms and the electrons? Just how detailed was this amazing simulation?

  “See something you like?” he asked.

  “You’ve got a nice cock,” I said.

  “You’ve got nice lips,” he replied with a grin. “Now get me hard so I can fuck your pretty little asshole. And get your cock out—I want to see it.”

  So I flipped up my skirt and fished out my cock, letting it dangle out the side of my panties. He reached out and felt it for a moment, and then he slipped his hand behind my head to push me back into sucking position—so I kept sucking. He got harder and bigger—standing tall and thick. I loved the way his dick curved to one side.

  My heart stammered. I didn’t actually like his cock, did I? Surely that was just part of the program—surely I would wake up from this simulation feeling gross and full of regret. But how could the simulation change the way I felt? How could some coding make me temporarily gay? Was it possible that these feelings were all my own?

  I pushed those thoughts away. Tim was erect now—ready to fuck me. I climbed onto his lap. He reached down and gave my little panties a swift tug, ripping them from my body. He tossed the wasted panties aside. My heart fluttered faster. I needed those panties to hide my cock while I walked the streets—my skirt wasn’t nearly long enough to do the job. But instead of feeling terrified, I felt excited and aroused. I reached down and grabbed his stiff shaft, lining it up with my hole. Then I started to sit down. I felt him pushing in, stretching my anus. I loved the warm feeling of his cock pressing into my body. I let a long sigh out. Then I noticed that he was playing with my cock: massaging it and trying to get it erect.