In a world where advances in neural sciences and technology had led to a point where the lines between fantasy and reality were blurred and redefined into something more, humanity as a whole was forever changed.

But not everything was sunshine and roses for this technologically advanced society. With the change in focus from the physical to digital, an increase in cybercrime and other more sophisticated forms of criminal activity had begun to take root worldwide like a plague. With sinister acts ranging from illegal military augmentations sold on the back market to questionably ethical modifications to the human body made possible through the use of nanomachines with their blockers released, law enforcement agencies across the globe were struggling to police and fight back against their enemies growing arsenal, and with the unrest against cybernetic implants and over-reliance on chip technology essentially forcing people to be placed under government control, a vast workforce dedicated to the propagation of crime and anarchy in the hopes of overthrowing their tyrannical rulers.

If it weren't for government cover ups to keep the population calm and under control along with some other questionable failsafes put in place to make sure their perception of their government's ability to keep them safe was of a 'preferable' status, chaos and riots would have broken out long ago with how badly beaten and bruised the police were with their numbers dwindling everyday; from low paid officers quitting on their own terms to others vanishing off the grid entirely.

And within a certain city that never slept for a single moment, that fact didn't change at all, with crime at an all time high and the police left with their hands tied, a government programme had given rise to vigilantes and private investigators working on their own time to solve cases and fight crime. Doing little in the end besides cashing in on the pay cheque included in the offer.

One such participant in the programme was James Boyd, a local born citizen with decent skills in computer science and coding with a lengthy service record in the force to back up his reputation when signing on. Even though he had left the force years ago, the programme offered him a way to get back in on the action without the giant hand that was the city state monitoring his every move.

And as he stood in an empty rundown apartment on a cold night after a report of a possible breakin had reached his terminal, the seasoned detective was beginning to suspect something more sinister at play here as he breaks the lock on the missing homeowners computer, browsing through what looked to be illegally downloaded training simulations meant for the military, muttering in disdain as he sifts through the different files and folders that were listed in the recently opened section, hoping for anything else that could help pick up the trail on where Sam Wellis had been spirited away to.

"Looks like our boy Sam wasn't so clean himself…"

But other than the incriminating folder filled with printed software and military sums, nothing else on Sam's computer seemed out of the ordinary. If he wanted more, then the only thing he could do now was to load up the last programme running on the beaten up clunker. A broken lock in the front door and signs of a quick smash-and-grab wasn't going to help much when whoever had done the nabbing was experienced enough to cover their tracks.

Although he never was one for video games, James was confident his real life training and skill in handling firearms would help carry him through since he'd heard sims and games like these were almost indistinguishable from the real thing…if the software really was a sim that is.

And so, after finding a comfortable spot to lay down on the couch, James plugs the link in to his neural deck, watching as a holographic display appears in his vision, raising an arm up to tap at the neon blue icon of a gun, feeling a faint sting in the back of his neck as his eyes begin to burn until his vision turns white. This was something he remembered being briefed about back when the neural technology nonsense was in its infancy; with first time connections to the digital realm of Cyberspace being a woozy, mind numbing trip that made you feel like you'd been staring into a blazingly bright LED screen for far too long, with worse cases involving migraines and vomiting.

Luckily for James however, his mind seemed to take well to the first link, finding himself floating in a blank endless void with nothing but the suit he had worn that day, wondering what to do next before he finds himself in the embrace of gravity once more; tumbling down from the sky with the wind whipping against his face and the recognizable sounds of gunfire raging around him. 'So this is how they wanna play things huh?'

Not one to be afraid of a little fall, the seasoned detective puts his dulled instincts to use, bracing himself for a hard landing with his feet spread out evenly, watching as the derelict roofs of a war torn village flash by until making landfall in dramatic fashion, kicking up clouds of dust and debris as thick olive drab and heavy bulletproof armour materialises over his old clothes. Like a hero morphing into his signature outfit straight out of the comic books as a rifle pops into existence slung around his shoulders.

But despite the cool landing, James could hear smug jeers and frustrated clicks of the tongue all around him, scanning through the similarly geared soldiers who were identified on the heads up display as his teammates. From the scoreboard at the top of his vision, he landed in some sort of war game where one side had to rack up the most kills in order to win.

"Hope you know how to shoot better than you act, 'Artemis'!"

Ignoring the random player who he could only assume to be an arrogant kid too big for his breeches, James brings his focus to the gunfight in front of him, spotting targets through the smoke and chaos before taking them all down with precise bursts from his rifle. Surprised and thrilled at how lifelike the recoil was in addition to the heavy stench of gunpowder in the air. And with the trill of bullets whizzing by his head from the enemy team taking note of this new threat, the retired man whoops as he ducks back down behind cover, feeling the shudder of the cement barricade against his back as hail of bullets meant for his face make impact.

‘Damn, feels like I'm back in service!’

Not wasting a beat, James counts the seconds before the gunfire inevitably halts, leaping from cover in a mad dash for the nearest building, counting four confirmed kills as the score for his team rises considerably closer toward the goal. But through it all, he knew he was supposed to be investigating Sam’s disappearance, sighing as he brought up the menu to log out.

“Strange…I can’t leave? How’d it even access my neural deck ID?”

Sure enough, looking over the menu bore no fruit with just his username on display, the name he’d chosen for his ID in social media applications that no software should’ve been able to appropriate without proper access. Then again, it shouldn’t be much of a surprise considering the legality of the sim itself and the other denizens currently populating this digital realm; the smug faces filled with scorn and mockery still fresh in the detective’s mind from his first arrival not too long ago ‘Which makes me wonder who i’m even playin with…’

But if he couldn’t logout, then the best he could do was to either look around for help, or finish this game, with the latter sounding more appealing to James as he peers around a chipped wall, firing off another burst that catches two inexperienced ‘kids’ on the other side of the vast village square; the mainstage for this gunfight. If this kept up, he’d have the win for his team in no time.

Judging from their hushed whispers and cold stares though, James had a feeling they didn’t seem  to appreciate his help too much. Not like he cared. He had a gun in his hand, and he was having fun, he didn’t need to take shit from young uns who were probably double digit years younger than he was.

Peering back around the corner after yet another break in the return fire, James aims down the sight before freezing, noticing a silver haired woman aiming her gun right back at him with cold grey eyes locked on as he ducks back behind the wall just before her shots strike home, enraptured by the foreign allure of her visage and the toned navel she sported showing clear through her armour. But an angry shout draws his attention followed by what clearly sounded like a slap, laying low as he sneaks around the other side to get a better look at the sudden commotion that had broken out amongst the enemy team. Spitting in disgust as he watches a man he presumes to be the ringleader standing over the female fighter with a fistful of her lustrous silver hair crumpled in his hands, pulling her around like an animal as she simply bows and scrapes at every word out of his foul mouth. Not fighting back even when he begins to molest her with a grubbing hand running over her sizable bosom.

It was like watching an abusive kid manhandle one of his toys…except this was a living human being…

Raising his rifle, James fires off a shot aimed at the misogynistic douchebag’s exposed cranium before rolling back into the safety of the building, exhaling as he collects himself before moving to sneak out through the front door with the deed done. Despite knowing this was all some virtual world, the fact that someone could be that cruel and careless with a woman had set James off.

“If I ever see that asshole again I’ll-ARGH!”

But before the man can finish his frustrated exclamation, the butt of a rifle comes crashing down against the side of his face, knocking him down to the ground as many other hands pin him down, holding his limbs hostage as cheers and whoops rise from both sides of the warzone; with ‘friend’ and foe alike hoisting their James up like a prized catch before throwing him down to the ground, groaning as he looks up at the face of the abusive man he had shot earlier, creeped out by the huge gaping hole of pixels in his head where James’ bullet had gone clean through.

Even more alarming though, was the young woman from earlier, now on all fours by his feet with a blush on her face as he bends down to give her head a loving rub, grabbing her face roughly in his gloved hands before forcing his tongue down her mouth. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

Parting his dirty kiss as he flings her head roughly to the side, the man rises to his full height before stepping over to James with the hole in his face healing over, a smug look scrawled over his suave face, walking slow circles around the detective, no longer in a simple war games simulation filled with disgruntled men like he thought this was.

“Thought we wouldn’t find out you were some ex-cop flunkie ‘Artemis’? We knew the instant you plugged yourself into that terminal…but you know what I think?"

Hearing his name, the detective tenses up for a moment, more than enough for the man to know his words had struck home as he kneels down with a sinister cackle. “I think that name doesn't suit some wrinkled old man playing soldier…whaddya say to a makeover, hm?"

Finding the will to overpower the men holding him down, James leaps off the ground, growling under his breath with his teeth gnashing shut inches away from the sneering thug's face. Realising how well and truly screwed he was in the hands of who he guessed could very well be the same people who nabbed Sam, James wasn't about to go down without a fight.

"I'll show you what a makeover is when I'm done with you, you goddamn fr-MFF!"

Snorting, the man silences James with a simple gesture across his lips, rising up as he puppeteers the detective's body with more swipes of his mystical finger, forcing him up to his feet but left unable to move, a prisoner to his whims as the crowd of armed men around them begin to cheer.

"If you're gonna call yourself something girly…you should look the part…"

Before James could even process the argument of the name being based off the Goddess of the Hunt, his digital avatar begins to ripple and change, cloaked in a rising cloud of pixels and static electricity as a barrage of error messages and code rises in James' eyes, unable to do anything but watch in morbid curiosity as the olive kevlar covering his the waist of his weathered middle aged body unravels to reveal baby smooth skin devoid of calluses and body hair, leaving behind a sexy navel with a tight hourglass devoid of muscle glowing a healthy pink as the static continues crawling up his body, exchanging a terrified gaze with the smug kidnapper with pressure beginning to build behind his chest.

"We're just getting started babe~"

With the removal of his bullet proof vest, an instinctual gasp flows from James' lips as his burly chest is affected by the strange transformation, morphing into a large pair of D cup milkers tipped with sensitive pink nipples jiggling erect in the air, inciting cheers from the small army of horndogs around him as they eyed James' new mammaries jiggling atop a seductive navel. While he wouldn't have said no to huge breasts, owning said breasts wasn't something James would've said yes to.

Not giving the detective a moment to rest, the static proceeds downward, concealing his privates from view as a sharp tingling sensation builds in James' groin. A look of panic on his face at the realisation of what was going to happen next.

'No! Not my dick! Please! Sto-ahhnn~'

With a mighty rumble in his lean belly, James' bucking hips breaks free from his captors magical binds at the raw sensation of having his dick be crushed, inverted and softened into a dripping pair of lips already letting loose a torrential flow of transparent fluids from deep within its hungry depths, the icky yet pleasurable feel of his testicles sliding back up inside a warm new vagina lined with abdominal muscles clenching in need to take their place as fresh ovaries, wasting no time in pumping estrogen throughout his system with an egg ready to be fertilised simmering in her aching womb, completing the detective's transformation as the static cloud engulfs his bearded old face, vanishing after a few seconds to reveal the exotic face of a pleasure struck model with an explosion of snow white threads raining down behind to her shapely rear. Moaning in a needy voice no longer reminiscent of the hardened ex-policeman James once was.

“Y-You shithead! You turned me…into…into a girl?!”

“Not just any girl sweetcheeks~ Now shut your mouth before I do it for you…a bitch like you needs to know her place.”

Finding herself unable to speak further as the cloud finishes up with devouring the muscles from her arms and legs leaving them as nothing more than shapely branches lined with fat and soft tender flesh, James collapses to her knees, struggling to catch her breath with the alien sensation of her ass, thighs and chest jiggling with every movement, feeding the overwhelming pleasure already rocking her hard. Struggling to maintain her composure as the wretch who did this to her swoops in for a kiss to the applause of his men, holding on to her struggling arms easily with how weak she now was, unable to even push him back when she could've easily flipped him over in her old body.

But gazing weakly at her own reflection in the man's visor as his tongue slips further down her throat though, all the detective could see was a knockout babe looking back at her with a wanton look on her face, plump lips spread apart with an erotic 'Mmmm!' leaking out between them. Slant eyes with azure blue irises burning with lust…

'Is that really…me? I can't…I can't be making a face like that! I look like a…like a slut!'

Parting ways before tossing her aside much like he had done to the other woman who was still kneeling in silence, her tormentor rises to his feet, giving an assuring pat on the head to her disgust. Shivering as he runs his hand through her radiant hair and soft cheeks, gripping them tightly in his arms, a face full of glee with the assertion of his power and control over James, whose mind was racing with conflicting emotions she had never once felt before in her life.

A renowned leader during boot camp and a hardened soldier and police officer, fear was something James had long learned to overcome. But staring up from the new position he had been thrown into as a naked, vulnerable woman who looked like she’d been taken straight out of a brothel and dumped onto a battlefield, James could feel nothing but fear, shivering with her smooth lanky arms wrapped around her sensitive breasts, fattened thighs that weren't the ones she remembered maintaining every morning and a long mane of unbelievably soft silky hair tickling her slappable derriere.

 "Looking good beautiful! But we're not done yet…stand up for me will you princess?"

She wanted to say no, to protest, to do anything but follow his orders, but she rises to her feet anyway, moving in autopilot with her eyes wide in confusion and terror as her arms fall down to her sides, leaving her breasts and privates exposed while taking on an overtly promiscuous stance that accentuates every inch of her curvaceous body. No more wrinkled middle aged cop, just a naked beauty posing like what one would envision a spec-ops operator to be just as said gear begins to materialise over her body, covering her bust in olive drab kevlar but leaving her tantalising midriff exposed, a very short set of pants leaving little to the imagination with the string of a lace panty biting into her child birthing hips.

As night vision goggles appear in her gloved hands with a skin tight mask wrapping itself over the bridge of her cute nose, James was now clothed in what looked like some cosplayers wet dream at a convention for military geeks with his fearful expression forcefully replaced with a cool gaze,staring right at her captor and his obedient slave.

“There we go…now you look the part, Artemis~”

“Y-You can’t do this! It’s just a stupid nickname my name! My…name? It’s James Boyd Artemis? No Yes!”

“What the hell are you going on about you dumb broad? Of course we know you’re Artemis! Am I right, boys?!”

With the resounding roar of approval from the crowd, the newly created Artemis comes to fully realise just how deep a pit she had fallen into. What was supposed to be a simple investigation was now turning into a complete nightmare, stripped of his strength and the ability to speak freely, wanting nothing more than to run. Turning his attention toward his underlings, the leader raises his weapon in the air, firing off a burst that unnerves James while the rest of the men split back off towards their respective sides of the map with freedom returning to the transmogrified detective.

"Alright, playtime’s over! Let's show the new gal how the game’s played!"

With her knees buckling beneath her, James is spared from a stray bullet whizzing through the air where her head once was as the gunfight resumes, yelling out in pain as a sudden tug from a rough handed thug pulling on her hair drags her back into the safety of cover, wincing while clutching at her scalp as her ‘teammates’ scoff in disgust, uncaring of her predicament as she struggles to hold the rifle she had been handling with ease just minutes ago.

“What, you need us to tell you how to load a gun Princess? Afraid you'll chip your nails or somethin’?”

“I know how to handle a gun you dickwads! I…yes please…It’d be great if you could show me how to load my weapon?”

Unable to do anything with the overpowering urge to submit to her hunky teammates washing over her mind as they cursed at her ineptitude, Artemis watches carefully as they go over the basics of handling a gun, from the proper safety precautions to how to unload and reload the weapon. It was like watching a drill sergeant school a trainee in boot camp, except the drill sergeant seemed unable to stop looking at his trainee’s exposed belly as he berates her for being too stupid to understand, making it that much more embarrassing for the former detective who should’ve been the one to school these kids.

What made matters worse was the fact that she now began to handle her weapon much like these thugs were; with style over technique in mind, the stance she had honed for herself years back erased from her improper posture as the recoil, combined with her considerably weakened physique, sent her shots flying in all directions but her target.

“God you suck, stay back and let us handle them!”

“Sorry…”

Artemis no longer bothered trying to say anything as the words  programmed into her brain flowed out of her mouth as naturally as she breathed, finding herself obeying the orders of the misogynistic men without restraint as she places her rifle on the floor before shying away from the gunfight, barely keeping track of the scoreboard as her team slowly rises up the ranks with each kill, struggling to think of a way out as the pieces of the puzzle finally fall into place within her mind, along with the realisation of why she seemed to be getting increasingly hot and bothered.

‘That girl from before…she must’ve been Sam…but if they’ve only had him for a few hours and he’s already been turned into their plaything…oh god, I need to-’

Until the shrill jingle of a bell announces the end of the match, with a cheer coming from her side of the team along with the match results flashing onto her heads up display:

MATCH WON || 50 - 46 || RED TEAM WINS

‘Damn it, I still can't log out! Wait…why can’t I access my menu? W-What happened to my neural deck?!’

But before the detective can try anything else, a gruff voice calls out to her from the side, a voice that triggers the seed of obedience planted within her compelling Artemis to give her undivided attention as she gazes up toward her ‘companions’, meeting each lustful gaze as they stripp her naked in their minds. The sound of a zipper coming undone draws her focus to the big bald man at the centre of the group with a sharp tingle running up her belly at the sight of his engorged member flopping free.

“Now that we’ve won the game, I think a little reward is at hand, don't you think so too princess? Don’t we all deserve a little R&R after we won that game for you?”

What little was left of James Boyd wanted to scramble away from the massive 8 inch schlong dangling a few inches in front of her face, but the dominant yet submissive persona of Artemis drew the ruined detective closer, her nose perking up with the tantalising odour of the glorious dick rising up in her face. Cancelling out all thoughts of resistance as she slowly nods in agreement. These men were generous enough to teach her how to handle a gun, and they had gone so far as to secure them and in turn, herself, a victory. Of course they needed a reward.

A handsome reward she had every intention to pay back…uncaring of the tiny voice at the back of her head screaming at her not to do it.

"No! Keep that disgusting thing away from me! Of course sir…you all most certainly do deserve a generous reward~"

"Quit it with the high and mighty speech bitch, know your place when you can't even handle a gun!"

"Fuck you… sorry Mister…"

Cursing and screaming while trapped in her own body, James the detective can only sit back as the bitter taste of dick fills the mouth of Artemis; the Red Team's obedient poster girl, struggling in a futile effort to break free, unaware of the fire awaiting her should she ever free herself from the frying pan that was the simulation. Unbeknownst to James though, her physical body was undergoing its own transformation in the dark interior of a van with the crime boards in the city soon updating with yet another Missing Person’s report with the weathered face of the freelance detective plastered over it.

Although James didn't quite look like the rugged man depicted on the posters anymore…

Epilogue

In the tightly packed rear compartment of a large vehicle, the voice of a man sporting a distinct russian accent can't be heard echoing down from somewhere in the darkness, grunting along with wet slaps and gentle moaning as the door to the front opens, with a second russian entering before turning on the lights, catching his accomplice red handed forcefully jamming his pecker down the throat of an alluring woman with snow white hair done up in a ponytail.

“So? How’s the software update coming along?”

“Nicely sir, wanna give her a go? She’s fresh!”

“Uhh, no thanks…Sasha just drained me dry a second ago…what’s with the ponytail?”

“Didn’t you know sir? It’s really good as a -hnggh-leash~”

Scoffing as he takes a seat in the interior of the cramped vehicle, the masked man watches his partner groan in pleasure as he gets back to face fucking the poor girl, bobbing her head back and forth in a zombie like fashion with some encouragement from her stud as she sucks him off with her arms wrapped around his legs for support before he pumps a generous serving of cum down her throat with the excess leakage spilling down her plump lips before pooling in the cleavage of her D cup breasts. Pulling his pecker free of his nameless partner's lips with a wet pop, an audible sigh escapes her steaming mouth as as she rises to her feet, eyes shut in a serene look of peace as she walks back over to the podium in the centre of the room, wires snaking over to plug themselves into the chip at the base of her neck.

"Hoo-wee! Gal’s got a non-existent gag reflex for sure. Can't believe we managed to snag a cop with that last run. Two in one day…the boss is gonna be a happy man."

"’Ex-Cop’ you mean? Idiot fell for the trap without even calling in his findings…if you're done testing her out though, mind getting her ready? Sasha's feeling mighty lonely back there…"

“You got it! With the upgrades from the boss, wiping minds and uploading new memories shouldn’t take too long…and there we go, Artemis is ready to go! At least the boys in the sim get one gal on each side to play with.”

With a hiss of steam from the wires as they unplug themselves from the mysterious seductress' neck, her eyelids flutter open as she slowly scans the cramped interior of the vehicle. Taking in the figures of the two men leering at her before her gaze lingers over the still figure of Sasha sitting directly opposite the masked man. Something about the silver haired lady seemed familiar. Like she was supposed to rescue her? That didn’t sound right.

"Is something wrong, dear? Your readings just hit the red for a second."

"Mm? It’s nothing Master…something about Sasha just seems…off…to me, but I can't-t-t-t…"

"Sorry there Artemis, how're you feeling now?"

"Besides the urge to have more of your excellent seed in my mouth Master? I am perfectly fine."

With her body tingling for action and the pesky remnants of who she once was cleanly scrubbed from a thoroughly cleansed brain, the newly created pleasure doll struts over to take her place by her sister's side, giggling as her Master lands a slap over her ass. No longer able to remember him as the creep that had turned her into the smoking hot wench she now knew to be how she always looked since the day she started working in the red light districts, pleasuring the denizens of the cramped city alongside others like Sasha whom she treated like a big sister. Unlike her powerful body rippling with muscle, Artemis’ lean curvy figure and generous assets made her a popular choice amongst the men in this foreign city. Relying on Sasha sometimes when the customers got too overzealous, though even she had her own submissive streak that left them both at the mercy of men who aren't intimidated by simple threats alone.

Not like they had a problem with it…

And with the masked man walking up to take a seat beside her, Artemis braces herself for another quickie as she licks her lips, scooping up any leftover cum and savouring the sour spunk as it runs down her throat to join the motherload already simmering away in her belly. Eager for another serving preferably through her very hungry lower lips…

THE END