Virtual Insanity (Patreon)

[shrinking, giant, weightlessness, body swap]

Claude entered the control room with two steaming cups of coffee. He set one next to Wayne, the young intern, who sat with his face three inches from a screen. He looked exhausted, so focused he was forgetting to blink.

“This level of stress is no good,” Claude said as he slid his headset–a single lens connected to a single earpiece–onto his temple. “And it’s illogical. I’ve been in charge of these systems for eight years. We’ve never had so much as a power surge. This whole operation is the most streamlined, smoothly running system around.”

The “operation” Claude referred to was Bordell-Omega, the most successful VR sex facility in existence. Wealthy men paid a tremendous amount to boot into their fantastically designed virtual world, while sexy bodybuilders and male models jacked in as well to satisfy their every desire. Claude had designed the original systems, and ever since had stayed on to run things from the control room. He was set to retire that year, with Wayne preparing to take his spot.

“I just can’t believe we’re thirty minutes from launching,” Wayne said. He scratched at his scalp. Claude noticed that his hair looked considerably thinner than the day he’d been hired. “I mean, the upgrades we installed… they’re next level tech. NOBODY is running virtual simulations on the level we’ve got prepared. I feel like we need more testing.”

“We tested,” Claude said, patting Wayne on the shoulder. He saw an empty box of donuts under Wayne’s desk and regarded Wayne’s flat stomach. When Claude had first shown up, he’d been lean then as well. He adjusted his shirt to hide his paunch, knowing that Wayne was set to travel on the same level of physical decline once he was in charge. “Everything is locked in. Running at optimal efficiency. The models have spent the last two weeks pushing all the boundaries of the equipment and they haven’t found a single bit of code that isn’t performing exactly as we intended.”

Claude blinked his eye as he glanced at a screen above them, triggering his headset to turn it on. “There’s nothing left to do but to watch our success. Look how confident Mr. Giovanni is. Look at all those rich bastards dumping millions of dollars into our pockets!”

On the screen, Mr. Giovanni, a thickly built silverhaired man in a three-piece suit, stood on a dais as the guests, two dozen uber-rich men of various ages and backgrounds, filtered into the facility. Claude tapped his earpiece, turning up the volume on the screen.

“--and of course, you may say, what makes Bordell-Omega superior to every other VR pleasure simulator out there? Well, it’s our men of course!” Mr. Giovanni gestured to a stage behind him, where the massively built models flexed and posed. The gigantic Demarcus bounced his massive pecs and grinned. Rico, the self-proclaimed “Italian Stallion” ran his hands down his oiled-up abs before spinning around and slapping his huge ass. Duke tipped his cowboy hat, then hit an impressive double biceps pose before flexing his hips, giving his substantial bulge a jiggle for the delight of the arriving patrons.

“Sure, those other places simulate men, but artificial intelligence can’t deliver this level of raw sexuality, can they?” Mr. Giovanni’s eyes lit up as he was hoisted aloft by Kristoff, the 6’5” swiss brute. The blonde stud pressed all 250 pounds of the facility’s owner overhead several times before setting him down and giving him a kiss on the forehead.

Claude shut off the screen. “Look, if the systems launch has got you this anxious, why not head out back and get a powernap? Maybe sleep through it. I’ll wake you if we need you, but truly, our work is done, buddy.”

Wayne shook as he sipped his coffee. He hadn’t slept in days. The idea of a little sleep seemed to soften his rigid posture. He stood and wobbled out of the room.

Claude spun around with a grin as the door shut behind him. He produced a USB drive from his pocket and slid it into a dock at Wayne’s desk. He tapped the screen a few times, easily bypassing Wayne’s security measures, before uploading the contents of the portable disc directly into the Bordell-Omega mainframe.

“Couldn’t be easier,” Claude said. He blinked as he watched the green code scrolling down several of the screens suddenly interrupted by red code–the virus he’d just uploaded, easily spreading throughout the system. “Let’s get this show on the road and get me closer to my retirement!”

* * *

After all that flexing, pec-bouncing and other displays of strength on stage, the muscular Bordell-Omega performers smelled like a locker room as they headed toward their entry ports. The door slid aside and they walked into a room with a single pod for each of them. Clear domes tilted upward as they approached. Demarcus hopped into his chair first.

“You guys got your assignments?” he asked, tweaking his own nipples as his dick twitched in his pants. “Mine’s gonna be easy. I’m gonna get three of those guys to play with. Love those rich fuckers. Never even SEEN a man like me,” he said, flexing his arms and sticking out his tongue. “They’re gonna cum when I just walk in the room. And then a dozen times more after that!”

“I’ve got multiples too,” Rico said as he checked the small screen next to his entry pod. “Four guys. They want to fuck in a garage. Guess I’m gonna be in a mechanic costume.” He glanced at his reflection in the pod’s plexiglass dome. He winked at himself, pursed his big lips, then grabbed his pecs and squeezed them. “Fuck. Wait till they see my dipstick.”

“This new upgrade is crazy,” Duke said as he sat in his pod. Electrodes emerged from the cushioned headrest, attaching to his forehead and cheeks. “It’s like… I can FEEL everything. It’s like my body’s ten times more sensitive in the VR world than out here!”

“Hell yeah,” Kristoff said. “I love how the pod vacuums up all your cum as you go, too. Last week I nutted like seven times just during a trial run.”

“Yeah,” Demarcus said. “Maybe for you. I have WAY more control over this big python than you do over your little weenie,” he said.

“Fuck you, Demarcus,” Kristoff shot back as their pod lids started to descend. “I made you cum like ten times last week. Claude told me you had him set your simulated self so you never nut in the VR-space, but I know I can get you to drop a load.”

The pods sealed shut with a hiss and each started to emit a blue light. Elsewhere in the facility, the “guests” were also sitting in similar pods. Their brain waves were analyzed, their sensory pathways were rerouted, and the virtual “bodies” generated in the machine became a direct avatar for the men in the real world.

Little did any of them know, as they transitioned into their digital bodies, that Claude’s virus was hard at work preparing a little bit of chaos for the weekend’s ultimate debut.

* * *

It took a moment for Demarcus’ eyes to adjust. The transition from meatspace to digital world always felt like falling for a moment, weightlessness followed by the sudden heft of his simulated body as his consciousness awoke. “What… what… the…” He couldn’t tell where he was or what he was looking at. On his assignment, he’d read that he would be in a luxury hotel room for some three-on-one action, but… before him was a massive pillar.

The ground was shaking. He seemed to be in some gigantic cavern. He couldn’t focus his eyes to make out any of the things around him.

“Didn’t read anything about… earthquakes…” he said as he took a step forward. Something felt wrong. He gasped as he realized the absence at his groin. He was dressed in a silk bathrobe, but as he patted at the front… he felt nothing. The heft were his big cock and balls usually were was gone! He yanked at the belt on the robe and opened it up to find himself as smooth as Ken doll.

“Fuck,” he said as he patted the area. His cock just wasn’t there! “Dammit, Claude!” he shouted. “Claude, the safe settings are on. Check the box that lets me have a cock!”

Another earthquake shook Demarcus, this time so intense that he was knocked off his feet. He rolled right out of his bathrobe with the wind knocked out of him. But as he looked up, the massively built, dominant man let out an uncharacteristic shriek.

Looming above him, as big as a skyscraper, was one of the guests, a heavyset 60-year old man similarly dressed in a bathrobe. The earthquake came from the impact of the giant foot (bigger than a truck!) crashing down next to him. Demarcus hopped to his feet and looked around. The bizarre place he was in… it was the hotel room. The ceilings were just too high to be seen, the furniture too massive to be recognizable.

The room wasn’t huge. Demarcus was tiny! Somehow, his dimensions had generated wrong. “Claude!” he shouted. “Claude, eject me! Get me out of the simulation! I loaded wrong!”

Another foot stomped down and Demarcus shrieked again. He turned and ran for the safety of the bed. The guests seemed like monsters; they may as well have been Godzillas, to Demarcus.

“When does the muscle guy show up?” said another of the guests, a younger man with a beard. “We’re getting the huge black one, right?”

“Yeah,” said the heavyset guest as he sat down on the bed. Demarcus, underneath, shrieked again as the guest’s weight made the “ceiling” above him come crashing down. He barely rolled away from being squashed.

“Well, how long are we supposed to wait?” a third guest, a man with glasses and a long stringy ponytail, said. “What do we do until he gets here?”

“Let’s fuck around,” said the bearded guest. He took a step forward. Demarcus saw the shadow above him and his knees went weak. He shrieked as the foot came down–but instead of getting squashed, he felt himself pinned beneath toes. The big toe was nearly the size of his whole body!

“I’m down here!” Demarcus shrieked as two of the men started to kiss above him. The pressure of the toes above him grew greater. “This isn’t real,” he reminded himself. “I’m okay… I’m okay…” The pressure of the foot grew greater as the guests’ making-out became more passionate. Demarcus flexed his bulging arms, struggling to move the giant toe off him, but he was just too small…

…after a moment of darkness, Demarcus blinked. He was on the bed now. As the guests’ limbs started to intertwine (the heavyset man jacking off several feet away as the bearded and ponytailed men kissed and groped, none of them aware that their fantasy man was mere feet away but too small to see), the bed tilted and Demarcus felt himself tumbling down the bed.

“NO!” he said, trying to right himself as he bounced and flipped, toppling helplessly toward the bearded man’s ass. Just before he collided, the bearded man stood, and the world beneath Demarcus (in actuality, just a mattress) rocketed up. The little bodybuilder bounced a few feet into the air, then landed again. “I’m okay,” he said, patting down his limbs (other than his blank groin, that is). “I’m okay!” he said. Then he looked up to see the bearded man’s ass coming down at him again.

…after a moment of darkness, Demarcus found himself lying facedown. He looked up to find that the nearby stench was the heavyset man’s foot nearby. Demarcus scrambled away from it, not interested in experiencing another digital-crushing.

“Claude, something’s wrong!” the little muscleguy cried out. “I’m not ejecting from the sim! I just keep rebooting! You gotta… you gotta…”

He gasped as he looked up to see that the heavyset man had seen him. A giant hand reached for him. Demarcus was in shock as the fingers wrapped around him, yanking him off the floor.

“Guys, look what I found!” the heavyset man boomed. “The fun’s about to begin!”

* * *

Rico blinked as he felt himself activating as his digital self. Wherever he was seemed dimly lit, cold, and cramped. He could only move his arms a few inches before he struck hard metal. He was lying down, but as he leaned up, his head painfully struck a low ceiling. “Dammit,” Rico said as he wriggled, finding himself almost fully confined. “Claude, buddy, I think I… generated underground, maybe? Can you port me out and then in again?”

There was no response from the control room, but he heard small voices from below him: “Holy shit, is that HIM? He’s fucking HUGE!”

“Look out, he’s going to crush us!”

“He’s still hot at this size…”

“Weird, he has no dick. This isn’t what we paid for at all!”

Rico tried to turn to see who was saying these things, but his surroundings were too small. One comment disturbed him, however, and he reached down to find himself as smooth as an action figure. “Damn, Claude, safesettings are on,” he announced, but once again, the control room was silent.

“Who’s there?” Rico asked, trying to twist to see past his rippling torso. Just past his left leg, he saw movement–it was a little man! He was far too small to recognize, however.

“Can we start this over again?” asked one of the tiny voices. “This doesn’t seem right.”

Rico wriggled around, then realized what had happened: he had spawned into the digital space with the wrong dimensions. “Just wait, guys,” he said to the tiny guests below him. “They accidentally made me too big. I, uh… I’ll be down to normal size in a few.” He wanted to believe what he was saying, but usually Claude would ping in to respond to any mentions of his name. The silence made Rico think something was malfunctioning–impossible, Rico knew, but what else would explain this?

He felt a tickle against his left butt cheek. He twitched, purely reflexively, but as he twisted, he felt something small squash beneath him.

“He squashed him! Oh my god, he squashed him!”

“Oops!” Rico said, still unable to lift his arms or look down past his pecs. “Guys, sorry. Don’t worry. They’ll just eject you and load you back in after.” He heard some digital static from below him, then a loud cry.

“Oh my gosh, he crushed me!” shouted the voice. “But I’m okay!”

“Yeah,” Rico explained. “Yeah, sorry about that. You can’t be hurt in this space, they just respawn you. This isn’t right at all, but when they fix this… I guarantee, I’ll give you the night of your life!”

“Not without a dick, you won’t.”

“Oh,” Rico said, “they’ll fix that too. Do… do you guys have dicks?” He tried to twist his torso to see the little men at the other end of the “garage” setting, but he still couldn’t make them out.

“Ew, his feet fucking STINK,” one of the tiny guests commented.

“Yeah, that’s not right,” Rico said. “I should smell like… like GOOD B.O., y’know, based on your profiles. Did you guys fill out a questionnaire before you showed up? I should smell differently to everyone.”

“His feet are fucking RANCID.”

“God, I can’t stand being trapped in here with that stink.”

Rico sighed. His feet probably did stink; he’d just come from the gym just before jacking in, and hadn’t showered (since the digital setting usually had its own set of smells). For some reason, in addition to everything else that was going wrong, his pod was translating his actual foot stink from the real world into the simulation.

“Well, it IS a garage. There’s a hose down here.”

“Yeah, and soap.”

“Guys?” Rico said. “Guys, what are you doing down there?” He wriggled, banged his head against the ceiling again, then growled in exasperation. “Claude, do something!”

He felt cold water spraying his feet, then soft sponges lathering him up. He tried to relax, but his digital body was SO sensitive! “Guys, c’mon… GOD! Stop!” Rico cried, tears streaming from his eyes as the tiny men scrubbed his feet, tickling the giant stud beyond what he could stand.

“Oh god, oh god… oh GOD, please, stop stop STOP!” the giant cried, banging his head against the wall as the four little guests sponged and lathered between his huge toes, up and down his arch, and around his heel. Rico ground his smooth groin against the metallic ceiling as he struggled to distract himself from the incessant tickling, but he was trapped–too big in too small a setting. In the real world, a giant his size could have crashed through the ceiling and escaped, but the simulation wouldn’t allow for destruction of its settings.

“Oh god, STOP!” Rico laughed, stomping his foot down. He heard the guests cry out as another of them met his end beneath Rico’s foot, but a moment later Rico heard him spawn back in.

“You fucking SMOOSHED me, you big asshole!” the guest shouted.

“Tickle him! Make him SQUEAL!”

“Yeah, get that big stud! Make him our bitch!”

“Yeah, try to get away from THIS, you giant dummy!”

Rico was helpless against the tickling torture. Every time he crushed one of the men assaulting him, they spawned back in and doubled their efforts.

And Claude was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Duke opened his eyes and found himself sitting on a raft in the middle of a pool. He let out a loud sigh, running his hands down his lightly furry pecs. “Time to put on a show,” he said. He froze as his hands slid beneath his tight-fitting bathing suit. “Oh, shit,” he said, sitting up. His cowboy hat slid from his head, splashing in the water and floating away. The beefy cowboy’s skin went cold as he realized the speedo was completely flat, with no bulge on his groin. “Fucking safesetting’s on,” he growled.

Around him were a few guests in swimsuits sipping colorful drinks and lounging, all staring at him, waiting for the show. Duke froze. What should he do–start performing and ignore the fact that he was built like a mannequin? Or should he break professionalism and call for Claude to reboot?

Duke tried to play it cool, gently paddling himself to the side of the pool. “Any of you handsome gents want to give me a hand here?” he asked. A lean Asian man extended a hand.

“I’ll help you, big boy!” he said, licking his lips at the tanned, well-built stud reaching for him. Other guests were on their feet, crowding around, eager to get their hands on the buff performer.

“Thanks,” Duke said, but as the man pulled him, he suddenly went airborne. It was as if he was a light as a feather, his whole body suddenly lifting into the air, slung around easily by the much smaller man.

“Oh!” the guest cried, letting go of Duke. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“No worries, pardner,” Duke said, trying to play along, but he panicked. When the guest let go of his hand, he slowly floated to the ground as if he was on the moon. He lightly touched down, dropping into a crouch. “That… was not good…” he said, looking around. He seemed to be the only one operating under these altered physics. “Claude?” he called. “I think… something’s wrong.”

“Hey, they advertised that you had a huge cock!” a pale-skinned redhead cried, pointing at Duke’s smooth front.

“Yeah, I do,” Duke said, smirking, “but just… give us a minute. It’s so huge, it takes a second to load!”

The guests advanced on him, and one reached out to grab him. Instinctively, Duke flexed his big arms, but as soon as the guest touched him, he was airborne again, gently floating several feet off the ground before lightly touching down again.

“Shit, gravity’s… a little broken…” Duke said. The guests seemed confused, but as Duke took a step, he “moon-jumped” several feet, his legs kicking helplessly as he sank back down to earth. “This ain’t right…” he said.

The redhead grabbed Duke by the arm and easily hoisted him overhead. “Look! He’s like… super light!” He swung Duke around like he was a lasso, finally tossing him upward. Duke cried out as he found himself launched skyward. He panicked as he continued to ascend, seeing the world beneath him getting smaller and blurrier, but soon after he–SLOWLY–started to drift back down.

“This is freaking humiliatin’!” Duke said, clapping a hand over his flat package, waiting patiently to touch down again. But just as he did, a guest shoved him back up like he was a volleyball.

“Damn, this ain’t what you paid for!” he shouted as he floated up, then back down, only to be tossed up again. The guests were all giggling and laughing. “Damn it, don’t you wanna… y’know… feel my muscles or somethin’?”

But the guests didn’t. They were just as amused using the massive stud as a pooltoy, gently bopping him around as he begged them to stop.

* * *

Wayne re-entered the control room to the sound of a dozen different alarms going off. Screens were read. Claude was furiously tapping at his keyboard, regarding several different readouts at once.

“Jesus, I thought you’d never come back,” Claude said. “I need help here!”

Wayne ran to his terminal and tried to log in. “Dammit… what happened? Why can’t I log in?”

“Something happened,” Claude said. “The code just started to… break down! Security breach or something, as soon as we went live. I haven’t been able to trace the origins because I’ve been doing damage control the whole time.”

Wayne whimpered as he watched hundreds of systems failing all at once. “Oh god, everyone is jacked in! Are they all okay?”

“I engaged all the safety mechanisms,” Claude said, wiping sweat from his brow, “but I’ve been unable to cancel the simulation. Everyone is fine, just enduring some really WACKY bugs, and they’re all trapped in there for the moment.”

Wayne froze. “I… I… I don’t even know where to start!”

Claude shook his head. “I think I have an idea,” he said. “There’s a failsafe IN the simulation. If I can jack in, I can engage it. Honestly, the performers all know about it, but they’re too wrapped up in the various glitches to be able to activate it.”

Wayne’s face went white. “You want to jack into the simulation NOW?” he said. “The code’s massively unstable! It looks like it could all break down at any moment!”

“I’ll be quick,” Claude said. There was a pod right in the control room. “We’ll get this reset and have everything back to normal in minutes. I just need you to minimize damage control while I go in. Got it?”

Wayne looked like he was about to cry. He nodded as Claude headed for the pod. The young intern was so wrapped up in debugging the simulation that he couldn’t even turn around to watch the pod seal itself around Claude as the head programmer’s consciousness was converted into his digital persona.

* * *

Kristoff knew that he was supposed to perform a firefighter simulation–he was dressed in the full gear when he booted in–but something was wrong. There was clearly a siren going off, but he was alone in the firehouse. Every time he slid down the pole, he found himself sliding back into the same room again. That, and the fact that he didn’t seem to have any cock or balls was a good tip that the simulation was malfunctioning.

The big blonde, huge as a redwood, relaxed as Claude suddenly materialized behind him. “Oh, geez, thank god,” he said, roughly grabbing the chubby programmer. “Been wondering when you were going to fix this.” He patted Claude’s arms, shocked that he was appearing there physically instead of via hologram the way he usually did when he debugged. “Wait, is something wrong?”

“Whole simulation is breaking down,” Claude said. “We need to eject from the simulation.” Claude adjusted his glasses, eyeing the larger man’s huge, rippling frame.

“Why not just eject me from the control room?” Kristoff said, backing away. Something was wrong.

Claude sighed. He was so close to pulling off his heist that he broke composure. “You can tell, can’t you? How excited I am.” He stared at the massive stud before him, his shoulders so broad, his body so thick with rippling muscle, his sparkling eyes and angular face so clean and angelic.

Kristoff narrowed an eye. “I’d say ‘hungry’ is how you look,” he said. “The way guests look when I first take off my clothes.”

Claude threw up his hands. “I don’t mean anything inappropriate, big man,” he said. He looked at his watch. “We only have a few minutes before the room we’re in discorporates, but that’s long enough to explain.” Claude clicked a small remote in his hands. Kristoff’s firefighter uniform evaporated, leaving him nude save for a pair of briefs.

Kristoff took several steps back, his thick arms held up defensively. “Claude… I don’t know what you have planned…”

“You really are special, you know that?” Claude said with a smile. “So much better than the other guys. Bigger, for one, but… BEAUTIFUL face. And you’re huge ALL OVER! When the safesettings aren’t engaged, that is.” Claude chuckled softly.

“I’m aware of your… preoccupation with me…” Kristoff said. “I filed several complaints with HR.”

“Yeah, not a smart move,” Claude said, shrugging. “I’m integral to this whole operation. Who do you think they’re going to keep, the replaceable musclehead or the guy who invented all this? But I had them keep you on because… I had plans.”

“What… plans?” Kristoff said. Before Claude could answer, Kristoff grabbed the fireman’s pole and slid down… but just slid right out of the ceiling again, re-entering the room.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Claude said. He clicked his remote again. Suddenly Claude was bathed in a bright red light. Kristoff glowed blue.

“What… is this…?” Kristoff said, swatting at the blue light as if he could wipe it away.

“Just recalibrating our digital signatures,” he said. Suddenly the blue light around Kristoff left his body, swarming around Claude. Similarly, Claude’s red light shifted to Kristoff’s.

“What does that mean?” Kristoff said, his muscular torso tensing in a panic.

“Relax! It’s no big deal. When we eject, we’re going to swap bodies, is all,” Claude said. “And YOU can enjoy MY retirement while I get to be the big blonde superstud.”

“That’s not possible,” Kristoff said.

“Totally possible… in fact, I’ve been working on this for a long time. I set up the intern for the whole systems failure, and I’m using it to cover my tracks while I jack out of my body and into yours. It’s perfect.”

Kristoff shook his head, looking around the room, searching for another way to escape. “I’ll… I’ll tell everyone. I’ll immediately tell them what you were doing!”

“No you won’t,” Claude said, pointing the remote at the massive man. Kristoff’s body suddenly blurred, squashing down, reconstituting as an exact clone of Claude. He looked down at himself, confused.

“Wait… what… just happened?” he asked.

“You came into the system to activate the failsafe,” Claude told his twin. “And now you’re going to eject with no memory that his conversation ever happened.”

The doppelganger blinked, confused, but Claude clicked a button and he vanished, ejected back into Claude’s body. “And now, I’ll wake up in that flawless, unstoppable mountain of gorgeous muscle… Can’t wait to hear how those other dumb bohunks dealt with the glitches I plugged them into!”

And with a click of the remote, Claude vanished, just as the room around him flickered and crumbled into green code.