The Subtle Snare: A Virtual Reality Sex Change

By Selkie TG

Trapped in your own VR harem!

You're John Lemure, famous virtual reality gamer. Millions follow your heroic and adult sensory stream from a high stakes, chauvinistic Arabian Nights fantasy game full of gender bending traps.

Transformed into your own female fantasy figure, you're now

• Language: English
• Publisher: SelkieTG
• Release date: Nov 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781925667219

Selkie TG

Selkie loves reading, writing, and fantasy. He/she is very confident, but shy; a good listener who's fascinated by people and happy to talk about a wide range of things. A weirdly normal non-binary individual who wants to share some sexy speculative fiction fantasies with the world.Some fave erotica authors are TG Cooper, Tom Tame, Julia Manchester, C.C., Lyka Bloom, Princess Pegger, Melody Mounier (Alyssa S), Solar Harris, Ann Michelle, Nikki S. Jenkins, B. L. Quick....She's non-binary gender and interested in gender twists, D&S, power reversals... but not cruelty.She occasionally contributes to the TrapQuest interactive fiction game, and hangs about on its Discord server.(These books contain no illustrations, to comply with Smashwords' Terms of Service.)

Book preview

The Subtle Snare

Arabian Nights – vol 10

Selkie TG

Contents

The Story So Far

Chapter 1 – Bluff

Chapter 2 – Dark Encounters

Chapter 3 – Encounter at the Velvet Sheath

Chapter 4 – Satisfaction Guaranteed

Chapter 5 – Pinned

Chapter 6 – The Ring of Reliability

Chapter 7 – Uneven Negotiations

Chapter 8 – That Detached Feeling

Chapter 9 – Feedback Loops

Chapter 10 – Scurrying Home

Chapter 11 – An Unfortunate Revelation

Chapter 12 – A Leaf Caught in Her Wake

Chapter 13 – Helpless Bystander

Chapter 14 – Stony Embrace

Chapter 15 – Interrogation

Chapter 16 – Eunuch Masquerade

Chapter 17 – Laughing Matter

Chapter 18 – A Circle of Dicks

Chapter 19 – Strange Device

Chapter 20 – Mask Pulled Aside?

Note from the author

Edition:      1

Length:      34,000 words

Copyright © SelkieTG, 2022

Cover design: sturkwurk

Publication date: November 2022

ISBN:       9781925667219 (epub)

Please note:

This book is written in the second person (‘You look around and see the rich tapestries decorating your entrance hall’), and with US spelling.

The Story So Far

In a future world where people live and work from VR pods providing every need, you are John Lemure, renowned adventurer in a virtual Arabian Nights fantasy game world.  Your daring exploits – streamed to your followers to view or physically experience via their own pods – have made you both famous and wealthy.

But after members of your slave harem tricked you, magically transforming you into a nubile young Asian woman, things haven’t gone smoothly at all.  You’ve had multiple other magical alterations made to you – like the drawings that appear on your forehead when you’re aroused, revealing your secret desires, or the creepy black ink tattoo that can be used to alter parts of your body.  That unnatural magic really freaked out your sorcerer friend Omar – and you too, since it works more like some old-style computer UI.  Omar though fears it’s related to an old, dark legend.  Could part of that be the feeling of some other intelligence watching you sometimes from behind Sashra’s eyes?  Of course, that was before you turned her into a pornographic statue inside your mansion.

There’s also strong hints of a conspiracy against you, probably involving your nemesis, Garton.  During your recent temporary escape into real life, his player offered you a hundred thousand cred-hours if you can complete the game as a male.

Your sneaky visit back to real life has also helped you break through the mind alteration magic you’ve worked out was used against you, implanting false memories of growing up here in the game as a girl.

Which is another weird thing: why would another player try to convince you of that while leaving untouched your knowledge that In Real Life you’re male?  Not only that, but some of the other characters in this game have been behaving as if they’re neither players nor ‘NPCs’ – non-player characters – operated by the game’s AI operating code, but more like real people unaware they’re playing a game.  Has someone begun brainwashing other players into thinking this is real?  Is this VR world actually some kind of mental reprogramming system?

But mental changes in the game don’t affect you outside, right?  Damn.  I should have tried some martial arts moves while I was back IRL!  But that’s foolish: of course they only affect your game character.

Be that as it may, a couple of new things are on your mind: the way you escaped means your ‘starting character’ now is a ponygirl slave: you suspect the person who helped you cheat and escape, double-crossed you and didn’t make the identity hack just a temporary twenty-four hour thing like he’d practically promised he would.

But perhaps the most threatening thing of all is that you spent last night in the general dormitory area of your harem instead of Joan’s room, let alone John’s!  The forceful woman who arrived yesterday has basically convinced everyone she is Joan Lemure, not you, and that you’re a faker.

Which is pretty rich, considering you only invented your sister to avoid the disgrace of people discovering John Lemure’s female transformation.

Joan Lemure doesn’t exist!

But you’re going to deal with her yourself!  You’ve already boldly stolen back the Necklace of Zir, and a milk maid potion.  Thanks to the Necklace you’re looking like your male self, and next you’ll convince Bahir to aid you.  Once you’re piloting his body via the Crown of Control, you’ll transfer the Necklace to him to reshape his body into a powerful one.  After physically overpowering this interloper, the milk maid potion’s Suggestibility effect will let you make her tell you who she’s working for and at last discover what’s going on…

Chapter 1 – Bluff

The eunuchs’ quarters are quite close to the main female dormitory, though each of the former men has their own small ‘service apartment’, as befits their higher status: even a eunuch holds more authority than a mere woman.

I’m a woman.

Dammit!  You know you’re not.  That’s just the false memories.  But the lying thought still sends a funny little shiver through you.

You swallow, slowing as you reach Bahir’s door: if he hears John walking in high-heels, he may start asking questions you don’t want to answer.  He shouldn’t notice them though in the dim light provided you tread carefully.

Pushing the door open you slip in, closing it behind you.  It’s only then that you realize you’ve no idea of the layout of the rooms – you’ve never actually deigned to visit here before.

At least they have a window, you think, glimpsing stars and moon in one patch of slightly-paler black.  Dawn must be approaching.

Yes, even now, you hear the first tentative birdsong from outside.

Bahir! you pipe out, but instantly stop at the sound of your high voice.

Someone stirs and mumbles in an adjacent room, rousing from sleep.  Quickly, you concentrate, humming under your breath to check you’re deepening your vocal cords correctly.  When you’re sure you’ve got it right, you slowly and quietly head toward the source of the sleep-muddled voice, feeling your way in the dark.  Bahir! you boom out.  Wake up, man!  It is I, John Lemure!  At the last minute, you also think to spin the Necklace of Zir so it dangles down your back instead of winking and drawing attention to itself from deep within your lush cleavage.

Wha-?  A muffled snort and cough from another room draws you further inside, though you’re glad you’re moving cautiously when your foot catches on a loose rug and you almost tumble headlong.

Bahir!  Wake up!  And light a damned lamp, too, while you’re about it.  It’s black as pitch in here.

You tremble at snapping out an order like that.  Will he get angry?  Reprimand you?

You have to shake your head and remind yourself those feelings are just implanted, the result of damned Suggestions.  You’re the boss here.  You’re John Lemure.

There’s a distant scraping of flint on steel.  You reach a doorway to a small sleeping chamber as Bahir leans out of his bed nursing a small oil lamp to life.  You move a little more quickly in so he won’t be able to see your feet – and footwear – putting your plan into action while he’s still groggy with sleep.

I need you to wear the Slave Crown, urgently.  All our lives may depend on it!

Bahir blinks, stares at you, and his eyes drop to your chest.  "Uh… Master?"

His reaction is weird, as if he doesn’t recognize you properly.

Ah.  You do look a little, um, androgynous.  Don’t concern yourself with my slightly altered appearance, you begin; and almost stumble to a stop when he sits up more alertly, blurting out "Slightly?" in a peculiar tone of voice.

Yes, foul magic is at work here, and I need you to wear the Slave Crown.

He’s still staring at your chest for some reason.  Now that he seems properly awake, there’s a calculating gleam in his eye.  He’s certainly the most intelligent and ambitious of your half-men.  As he stares at your chest, you suddenly wish you didn’t have to choose him, rather than the much more easily controlled Hassam.

Unfortunately, only Bahir and the ponygirls are currently exempt from Omar’s damned spell that locks the rest of you-

Wait.  You can read and write again.  That means you can write an order allowing any of them outside!  No one is trapped!  Omar’s spell has one exemption: John Lemure could give written permission to allow any of his people… to leave…  Any of his people.

Any of your people.

Not you.

God damn it!  The only person still truly trapped in your harem is yourself!

That humiliating knowledge crashes through you, but is immediately followed by a wave of heat at the involuntary helplessness.  Your penis throbs and your pussy moistens, warmth flooding your chest too, tightening your nipples into stiffened tips.

Dammit!  That stupid Suggestion is making you turned on by this stupid situation.  It’s not fair!

You force yourself to stop panting, wondering what Bahir must be thinking.

But he’s not looking at your face, he’s still staring at your chest.  Why?  Are you leaking?  You glance down, but your boobs are fine – no leaks, big and round and firm, the silver rings nicely draw attention to your stiffened-

Ah.  The nipples.

You’ll have to address the embarrassing issue.  The nipples?  They’re not erect due to excitement.  It’s part of the cursed magic that’s been used against me.  It’s why I need you to-

Just the nipples, uh, Master?  Nothing else?

He drags his eyes from your chest and smiles up at you.  Somehow knowingly.

You blink, thinking rapidly.  From his reactions, and his words, there’s clearly something else wrong.

That impression is only reinforced as his eyes slide over your form, eyeing you closely; wandering slowly across your face to examine each feature it seems, before drifting down – after dwelling on your chest once again – to your waist; then lingering on your hips before carefully examining your legs… You curse, inwardly.  In moments he’ll see the ends of your shoes peeping out from your pantaloons: you can’t twist and hide both your feet-

You step forward, closer to him, just so he won’t be able to look down.  Uncomfortably close, in fact: otherwise he couldn’t fail to recognize the sandals which you-as-Joan have been wearing non-stop over the last few weeks.

That solves one problem,