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By Sakka (sakka66@aol.com)


When I was a young man of 28--recently married, with two young children--the last thing I expected was to become the head of a major company. But that was just what happened when my father-the owner and president of Joycor Industries--died suddenly on the golf course. Per his will, I became the new president, and I was thoroughly overwhelmed.

It was not until two years later that I had a good grasp of the family business. I already knew we made most of our money from virtual reality hardware, but I was surprised to learn that we also had a lucrative sideline in pharmaceuticals.

Our success was largely due to our head of research--Dr. Erwin Derwanger, a brilliant chemist in his mid-fifties-but I soon had reason to worry about the doctor and his laboratory. It was well known that Dr. Derwanger had an unhealthy admiration for Nazi Germany, but I didn't realize how disturbed he really was until I learned (from one of his frightened young lab assistants) that the doctor was using cloned human embryos for his drug research. Aside from being sick, it was also a violation of federal law, and I had no choice but to fire him and his senior staff.

"You're making a dreadful mistake, Dana," Dr. Derwanger said; "I need your laboratory."

"Erwin, you're lucky I don't tell the police what you've been doing; it's unconscionable!"

"Your father didn't think so; he knew the rewards would be worth the risk."

"What rewards?"

"Drugs you can't even imagine: a universal vaccine against cancer, ulcers, heart disease..."

"You're insane."

"Am I?"

I thought about that a long moment before replying.

"Yes. Now get out."

The doctor gave me a surly look, but finally left with a sneer. Although the shakeup in R&D affected our stock value the next quarter, I felt I had narrowly averted complete disaster. In Derwanger's place, I appointed another chemist who had helped me expose the doctor's research--a matronly woman of 50 named Magda Johannsen.

At first, I was concerned that she might have been too close to Derwanger to trust, but she seemed to have a genuine dislike for him. She revealed that he was actually the grandson of a concentration camp doctor--and I was startled to see confirmation of that fact in his confidential personnel file; the report of a private detective (hired by my father) indicated that Derwanger belonged to several racist and ultra-conservative organizations, and that he was secretly obsessed with creating a perfect white Aryan through genetic engineering. Evidently, that was the ultimate goal of his work with the cloned embryos.

"Amazing," I said to Magda in my office, after reviewing the file;

"who'd have thought it, here in the 21st century?"

"It's probably just as well he's gone," Magda offered, laying a briefcase before me.

"What's that?"

"I'm glad you asked," Magda said, opening the briefcase and taking out a black garment vaguely resembling a scuba diving suit. There was a virtual reality helmet in the briefcase as well, but the helmet was the only part I recognized.

"This is our new virtual reality prototype."

"I thought our V.R. units were helmets and data gloves."

"This is different," she explained. "Instead of merely watching a scene, and interacting with it through a pair of data gloves, this suit allows you to feel the virtual reality with your whole body."

"Wow, neat. Can I try it?"

"Well..."

"What's the matter? Isn't it safe?"

"Oh, it's safe," Magda said; "it's just you might not like the demonstration program. It's a simulation that lets a man feel what it's like to have sex as a woman."

"Oh really?"

I wasn't really shocked--sex sims were perfectly legal, and one of our biggest sellers. But to actually feel sex from a woman's perspective...nobody had ever tried that.

"The main concern I have," Magda said, putting the suit back in the briefcase, "is that some men have a fear of being penetrated. We know there's a market for this kind of thing, but it's one thing to fantasize; it's quite another to actually feel it."

Magda then looked as if she was going to leave with the briefcase, but I reached out to stop her.

"Well," I said, "why don't you just let me hold on to the prototype for tonight? Just to look it over."

Magda gave me a curious look, then smiled and shrugged.

"Well, all right. But just to look it over."

"Yes, of course."


It was uncanny what Magda said about men fearing penetration; although I never shared the fact publicly, there were times with Maddie--my wife--when I did fantasize about being a woman. She liked to play along; sometimes she'd get between my legs and ride me like a man--pretending to fuck me while my penis was actually buried deep inside her pussy--and in fact, that was the way we did it the night we conceived our first baby. I went off like a cannon inside her, splashing her womb with sperm, then rolled her over to return the favor...fucking her like a man.

So it was fair to say I was interested in Magda's prototype. It sat on my desk the rest of the day, while I imagined what it would feel like to run the program. Finally--when the office closed for the day--I called my wife to tell her I was working late. Then I opened the briefcase, stripped off my clothes, and pulled on the V.R. suit. It was very comfortable--much like a second skin--and I finally settled onto a couch in my office before pulling on the helmet, actually tingling with anticipation.

As with a normal V.R. system, the program menu screen was projected on a head-up display inside the helmet. The commands were actuated by thought--I simply looked at the command START PROGRAM, thought the command, and the program began. Immediately, I found myself standing in a white room, with a virtual-Magda standing before me in a white lab coat.

"Greetings, user," the virtual-Magda said. "Are you sitting down in a safe place?"

"Yes," I said.

"Very good. This program is a sexual simulation in which a man experiences non-consensual sex and penetration as a woman. Do you wish to proceed?"

"Uh...is there a safety feature?"

"Yes. The suit will monitor your vital signs, and deactivate the program if your vital signs are threatened."

I bit my lip, considering if I really wanted to do this.

"Does it have to be non-consensual?" I asked.

"There is only one program in this simulation," virtualMagda replied.

"Oh, fine," I said. "I'll do it."

"Very well. Please close your eyes and relax. At sync, the sim will begin."

"Sync" was the point in a sim where the program synchronized with the user's brainwaves. That point was indicated by a flash of light I saw a few seconds later, behind my closed eyelids.

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in the white room, but rather in a nicely furnished cabin on some kind of ship. The ship was rolling on the sea--I could feel that-and I suspected this must be the master's cabin on a sailing ship after I noticed a bank of windows close by the water. I myself was sitting on a bunk of some kind, and I was a little disappointed when I looked down; I liked like an ordinary male sailor, wearing a loose white shirt, trousers and buckled shoes. When I lifted my shirt, however, I saw that bands of cotton were tied down tight across my chest, and--when I felt for my penis--it was gone.

Evidently, I was a woman impersonating a man.

"Ironic," I muttered.

But then, suddenly, I caught sight of myself in a mirror, and I was actually startled by my own beauty. My hair was still short and blonde--as it was in reality--but the face looking back at me was soft and feminine, with beautiful blue eyes and full, pouty lips.

"You're not bad looking," I said to myself. "I wonder if I'm the captain."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you, bitch?"

Startled again, I spun around on the bunk and suddenly found myself confronted by a huge and frightening man, standing on the steps leading down from the forward hatch. He was terrifying to behold--a scruffy-looking giant with a tricorn cap, unbuttoned officer's cloak, and greasy stains on his white shirt--and immediately I remembered that this was a non-consensual scenario. My God, I thought--feeling my heart beating fast in my chest--I'm going to be raped by a pirate!

"Uh--sir," I said, "do I know you?"

The man slammed the door, and marched down forcefully to where I sat on the bunk. Angrily, he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pulled me close to him.

"Oh, you think you're funny, don't you," he said, blasting me with his rank and noxious breath; "'that captain isn't half the man I am'--isn't that what you said?"

"I did...?"

"Don't play stupid with me," he said, throwing me back onto the bunk; "I heard you myself! I've kept your little secret from the crew--that you're actually a woman--and this is how you repay me! Well, I've had enough of this nonsense, bitch--this time, a blowjob won't be good enough."

The big man then turned to bolt the door, and I shrank backward instinctively. Turning back toward the bunk, he then stomped toward me with anger and lust combined in his eyes, and I realized there was no escape.

I knew resistance was pointless, but I still fought back when he reached down to pull at my shirt; his powerful hands simply tore my shirt off, then he sawed through the fabric binding my breasts with a wicked-looking knife. The knife cowed me a little--I felt its blade cutting my skin--but both of us were equally startled when my breasts sprang free; they were plump and round, and it was obvious the pirate liked them.

"Oh, Captain Tom likes those," he muttered, and I gaspedclutching at his coat--when he bent down to suck on my nipples. His scruffy beard scratched my skin--which was annoying--but I got a real shock when he switched from sucking to biting. Like a vicious dog, he took my right nipple in his teeth, and shook it fiercely even as he leered up at me.

"Ow--stop--!"

"All right, I'll stop," he said, lifting his head, "if you'll calm your silly ass down."

I nodded pitifully, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"That's a good bitch," he said, finally reaching down for my trousers and ripping them loose--along with shoes-with effortless strength. Now naked before him, I saw him leering down at my pussy--but then I realized I had never even seen my own pussy myself.

"Oh, that's a nice little quim," Tom muttered, lowering a hand to rub between my legs. I was startled, feeling his rough fingers first batter my clitoris and labia, then force their way inside me; thus, my first awareness of my cunt was the painful sensation of the giant's fingers pressing at my hymen.

"Oh, that's a tight one," Tom said, looking me in the face;

"you're a virgin, aren't you?"

"I don't know..."

Tom didn't seem to know what to make of that, but it didn't stop him from carrying on. While I looked away-trying to avoid his gaze--he reached down to lower his own trousers, then moved into position between my thighs. I didn't want to look, but I finally took a peek when I felt something hard and wet nudge itself between my labia. Captain Tom, I saw, was huge--his dangling cock a solid monster eight inches long, uncircumcised and drooling pre-cum--and I gasped when his swollen cock-head finally pushed inside my vagina.

"Oh, fuck--!" I gasped, feeling the penis stretch my opening.

"You really are a virgin," the pirate said, simultaneously cupping one of my breasts, and nudging his penis forward against my maidenhead; "a little extra treat, I guess..."

"Please," I said, "it hurts...!"

"Good."

A moment later, pushing forward with all his strength, he drove his cock-head through my vestibule, and my untried vagina screamed with the pain of his sudden, stabbing penetration. I had no idea it could hurt so much to be forced like this--barely wet, my channel resisted his entry--but he forced himself into me with sheer physical strength, splitting open my cunt muscles and finally coming to a rest with his balls on my ass. Deep inside myself, I could feel his thickness, and I was sure that his weapon was stabbing right into my womb; for a moment, it was all I could do to look at his face in agony, then I cried and screamed.

"Oh, fuck--! Fuck, it hurts--!"

Tom didn't seem the least bit impressed with my suffering, however; he simply starting thrusting, grinding his penis into my wounded hole.

"Oh, you're tight," Tom grunted, "like a little girl..."

"Oh, please--!" I whined; "you're hurting me...!"

"Oh, you know you like it," he said, dismissively. "All you bitches like it."

There was no use trying to reason with him; even as tears rolled down my cheeks, I felt my hips ache with a dull, throbbing pain; I was nothing to him but a cunt now--a cunt to hump and fuck and rape.

It seemed to go on forever, but it was probably just a few minutes. Seeming to feed off my pain, he started fucking me faster and harder, but the tightness of my virgin hole was clearly too pleasant to take for long; soon he was close to cumming, and let me know it.

"Oh, I'm gonna cum..." he said. "You want it? You want my cum in your cunt?"

I could only grunt and gasp in reply.

"Of course you do," he said, thrusting even faster, and deeper;

"maybe you'll have my kid, you little bitch. You want that--?

You want my bastard in your stomach...?"

I just cried.

And a moment later, he came. Pressing in deep, he punched his cock into my womb, trembling and shuddering as he shot his sperm directly into my belly. I was too sore to enjoy it, but I could feel his penis pulsing in the grip of my cunt, basting my womb with surging streams of semen; soon, he had filled me to overflowing, and the excess cum overran my hole to pour down the crack of my ass. Always before in my life, I had been the one to penetrate my partner, and spill my seed in her body; now I was the one being penetrated and filled with sperm, and I felt a terrible sense of shame and embarrassment as I lay there being plowed and filled with gushing gouts of spunk.

When he finally pulled out, and got off the bunk, all I could do was lie there, vaguely aware of the juices pouring out of my hole.

"You really bled there," Tom said, pulling up his trousers.

"Maybe I'll keep that sheet as a souvenir."

I could only take his word for the mess between my thighs; at the moment, it was all I could do to roll over and curl up with my arms wrapped around my knees. Now that Tom was done, I noted that the sim's safety feature hadn't kicked in, and I was actually somewhat pleased by that; a sim that worked this well would be a big seller. It certainly didn't make up for the pain in my hips, but as I closed my eyes, I knew--if nothing else--that the sim would soon be over.


Ordinarily, a sim had a limited duration--usually an hour at most--since V.R. units simply didn't have the memory to store a complete world. But sometimes a world took on a life of its own; if a user became too immersed in a virtual world, his brainwaves would synchronize completely with the V.R. system and the sim would continue indefinitely, feeding off images from his subconscious. We called that a "vivid fantasy", and it wasn't common--it happened less than one time in a million--but it was a serious drawback to virtual reality, since the user could slip into a coma and even die.

Thus--when I woke up and found I was still a woman--I was worried.

I was no longer on the pirate ship, but rather in a modern, windowless bedroom. I was seated in a comfortable chair, but I felt a bit groggy, as if I'd been drugged. Turning my head, I noticed a full-length wall mirror in the corner, and I could see that I still had the same body as I had on the pirate ship.

My overall look, however, was very different; I was now wearing gold hoop earrings (nicely complimenting my short hair), a short black dress that was cut low to reveal my cleavage, and a pair of sexy black high-heeled sandals. Despite the unusual surroundings, the costume did arouse me--looking down, I had to admit that I had pretty nice legs, and I liked the way the delicate sandal straps wrapped around the backs of my ankles, and the way my toes were tightly bound in their simple vamps.

But where the hell was I?

For a long moment, I just sat there numb--trying to guess what might happen next--but then, suddenly, someone grabbed my arm and hauled me upright. It was Dr. Derwanger!

"All right, bitch," he said, "I've had enough of your stalling. I paid for an hour and I'm getting an hour!"

"Dr. Derwanger...?"

Dr. Derwanger appeared surprised, and I suddenly realized there was something very peculiar about his clothing; although I was no historian, I was certain he was wearing a black SS uniform, complete with death's head insignia and a holstered Luger.

"How do you know my name?" he asked.

"Don't you know me?"

"No," he replied; "what I know is that you're a very uncooperative bitch, and I'm going to fuck you now."

Whereupon, he swung me around by my arm, and flung me onto the bed. I landed on my back, thoroughly confused and more than a little afraid.

"Now roll over," Derwanger said.

"Look," I said, "I don't know who you think you are, but you can't just order me around."

The doctor responded by pulling out his pistol.

"Well," Derwanger said, "I could always just shoot you and fuck your corpse, if you'd prefer that."

From his tone, I could tell he was serious. I rolled over.

A moment later, the doctor was on top of me, pulling my arms behind my back. Then--with the evident skill of a practiced sadist--he bound my hands with a pair of handcuffs, and rolled me back over.

"What are you going to do...?" I asked, nervously.

"I'm going to fuck you," he repeated, re-holstering his pistol and pulling off his boots. He then shed his trousers and advanced on the bed, still wearing his uniform jacket and holster, and shaking his cock in his fist to get it hard. It wasn't unnaturally large--just a little bigger than my own six-incher--but the doctor's penis was still something I had never expected to see. I noted the penis was circumcised--unlike the pirate's--and I also noticed the penis was studded with a network of bulging veins. Although I knew this had to be a sim, that didn't make the sight of that cock any less frightening; awkwardly, I tried to back away from him, digging my spike heels into the bedspread.

"I see you're not wearing any panties," Derwanger said, grabbing my ankles and spreading them apart; "good."

"Now, wait just a minute," I said, twisting in his grip; "I'm a prostitute, right? Maybe you should use a condom..."

"What, afraid you'll catch something?"

"No," I said, "but you might. I mean I'm full of diseases-herpes, syphilis, you name it..."

"All the same," Derwanger said, sliding down between my thighs, "I think I'd rather take you raw."

"No...!"

Derwanger just smiled; with my hands behind my back and his body between my legs, I was helpless to resist him. With cool detachment, then, he rubbed my pussy until it was wet, then eased his drooling cock-head into the mouth of my vagina. Although it was horrifying and weird, I must admit the scenario was also actually exciting; to have this hateful man nudging his penis into my body-exerting the super-male dominance of the swastika armband still on his uniform--was simultaneously arousing and humiliating. I could only assume that Magda had programmed this sim as some kind of inside joke--revenge, perhaps, on her former supervisor.

But suddenly Derwanger stopped, meeting resistance neither he nor I expected; my hymen--broken earlier by the pirate--was now back in place.

"You're a virgin," Derwanger leered; "unusual, for a prostitute..."

"Yeah...listen, we don't have to do this..."

"But I insist," he said, pushing forward once again. This time I tried to resist more actively--clenching my cunt muscles and trying to stab at his calves with my heels-but he had no patience for that; abruptly, he pulled out his pistol and rested the barrel on my temple.

"You are stimulating," he said, "but I will shoot you if you don't cooperate."

"Okay," I said, falling limp, "you win."

"Of course I do," he said, keeping the pistol in hand and punctuating his victory with a sudden jabbing thrust of his penis. I felt my hymen break--again--and gasped as he pushed in deep, sliding in up to his nuts in my tight, slippery hole.

"Oh, fuck--!" I gasped.

"Oh, Fraulein," Derwanger said, leaning in close to nibble on my ear, "that's very good--very tight."

I just moaned, feeling him start to grind his penis into my cunt.

"I'm curious, Fraulein; how does it feel?"

"It's hard..." I admitted, trying to avert my eyes from his gaze; "I can feel the blood--(unph!)--pulsing in your cock..."

"I wonder," Derwanger said, peeling open my dress to get at my boobs; "if you're a virgin, do you have any birth control?"

Well, that was one thing I could be thankful for; at least I couldn't get pregnant in a sim.

"I don't know..."

"Well, I hope not," Derwanger said, fucking me faster; "I think you'd look good with my baby in your stomach. Don't you agree?"

The thought was too bizarre to imagine, but I supposed it was a rhetorical question. For his part, Derwanger continued to hump away at me, meanwhile dipping his head to suck at my nipples. Despite myself--and my ardent wish not to be aroused--it actually felt pretty good; simultaneously, he was grinding my clitoris between our pubic bones, and I fought back a surge of pleasure as he took turns sucking on both of my nipples.

"Well, I know one thing," he said, finally taking a break from his sucking; "I will enjoy watching these swell up with milk when you're pregnant."

"Jesus, Derwanger," I said, "for a sim, you sure are repulsive."

Derwanger just smiled--and bent down to bite my right nipple. It shocked me, and hurt like hell; just like Tom, he started viciously shaking the tit between his teeth. I whimpered in pain, but that just seemed to increase his desire to hurt me; still fucking me, he let my tit go for a second, then bit down hard once again, making me cry and wrap my legs tight around his waist.

For a sim, it was very real.

Unfortunately, Dr. Derwanger seemed to have a lot more stamina than Tom. Lifting his head back up, he nipped at my earlobes and neck, seemingly propelled by the twin desires to hurt and humiliate me as the minutes wore on. His fucking varied in pace-sometimes he fucked me fast and hard, and sometimes he fucked me slow and deep--but always he kept up the pressure on my poor little clitoris. He seemed to sense I was fighting to keep from cumming, and it didn't help that I could feel his heavyhanging nuts slapping my ass with every driving thrust.

"You're fighting me," Derwanger said; "but I will make you cum."

"Ohhh..." I groaned, "fuck you!"

Derwanger just smiled, slowing down his pace for a few seconds, then picking it up again. I could hear the loud slap-and-smack of every thrust, and I prayed that he would cum before I did.

"Well, Dana," Derwanger said...

SMACK!

"...there's something you ought to know..."

SMACK!

"...this isn't a sim."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"What...?" I asked, suddenly feeling the blood drain away from my face and extremities.

"Allow me to explain," Derwanger said, finally stilling his hips and leaning in close to me; "I didn't take kindly to being dismissed from Joycor, so I decided to test one of my latest techniques out on you. After you were knocked out by the pirate sim, I brought you here to my personal laboratory and immersed your body in Mutagen5--an agent that completely reconstructed your body in female form."

"Oh my God..." I said, feeling my heart beating suddenly hard in my chest, and the swollen-hard cock resting deep in my hole; "this had better be part of the sim..."

"I'm afraid not," Derwanger said, starting to fuck me again; "this is quite real."

Then, as if to prove his point, Derwanger thrust in very deep-pressing his balls up against my ass--and once again paused his fucking as he leaned in close to me, resting his mouth right next to my ear.

"You're a woman now," he said, "But that's what you always wanted to be, isn't it?"

I just whimpered.

"Pathetic."

"Wait a minute," I said, feeling tears run down my cheeks as he started to fuck me again; "if all that's true, how did you get my body out of the building?"

"God, you're stupid. Magda called me, and we put you in a body bag after the sim knocked you out; then we drove you out of the building in a company van."

"Magda...?"

"Oh yes--she's been very helpful. It was Magda who spied on you and your wife, and picked up that fascinating tidbit about you wishing you were actually a woman."

"Oh, for crying out loud," I said, feeling his nuts start to slap my ass again,

"I'm as straight as you are! That's just a game I was playing with my wife!"

"Not any more. Now you really are a woman, and--after I squirt my sperm inside you--you're going to be a pregnant woman."

"You're fucking insane!" I said; "you're a fucking insane Nazi lunatic!"

But there was nothing I could do to stop that cock sawing away inside me. Utterly pleased with himself, the smug bastard continued to grind away at my clitoris until the aching pleasure was more than I could take. I came-shuddering and crying with shame--but still the doctor continued to ride me, only then picking up the pace to reach for his own climax.

"What point--" I asked, "--what earthly point--could there be in making me pregnant?"

"Well, I still need embryos for my research into breeding the perfect Aryan," Derwanger said--even as I felt his cock start to swell inside me--"so I figured I might as well breed the embryos I need with you. Your new body is very fertile, and you're actually ovulating right now."

I was too stunned to reply--stunned by the sheer magnitude of his hatred toward me. He had forced nature against its course--making my male body into a female one--and now he would breed his own research tool inside my body. Our baby--our innocent baby, still only an egg swimming through one of my fallopian tubes--would be the helpless victim of his own father's lunacy.

But that would be the future. Back in the present, Derwanger was slamming me deep and fast, and I realized he was finally cumming when I suddenly felt his cock start to throb and pulse; indeed, pushing in deep, Derwanger exploded with so much force that I could actually feel his sperm squirting inside me. For just that one moment, he lost control of himself, shuddering and trembling as he emptied his balls in my cunt; now, millions of his little wrigglers were swimming away inside me, hunting for the eggs in my belly.

It was only then, as overflowing semen once again poured down my thighs, that I finally realized this was real. Dr. Erwin Derwanger was humping me, pumping his seed into my womb, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

"This will never work," I said, when he finally slipped his cum-slick penis out of my cunt; "you can't hide me here forever."

But Derwanger ignored my challenge, moving instead to careful elevate my knees so my sandal-shod feet were lying flat on the bed. I knew what he was doing--making sure his sperm stayed deep inside my vagina-but I was too weak to fight him.

"Actually," he said, a moment later, "Magda and I have already staged your death, so you can stay here breeding my embryos for at least another 15 or 20 years. Then I'll probably have to kill you."

"But...what about the company?"

"Oh, I'll control that. I've already arranged to purchase controlling interest in the company, so your annoying interference will be nothing more than a minor nuisance. If nothing else, though, I must admit that you are rather cute--perhaps I'll let you keep one of our babies if you behave yourself."

"Erwin, you're insane..."

"We'll see. Why don't you get some rest now, and we'll fuck some more when you wake up."

Continued in part 2...