...a beautiful woman

Jack's body began to shimmer and shift. Soon the Victorian gentleman was no more. In his place was a beautiful woman. No, that wasn't right. Zoë stared at the creature in front of her. She wasn't beautiful. She was gorgeous.

Zoë knew that this wasn't Jack's real body. In fact, she wasn't sure that Jack actually had a body. She felt like an infant, learning everything for the first time, completely unprepared for the world around her, barely able to understand her environment. But staring at the new image in front of her, Zoë felt for the first time since waking up that it was something she could understand.

Somewhere halfway between a supermodel and a porn star, Jack had everything that a man would want. Despite knowing full well that she was in a simulation, Zoë felt a hint of jealousy as she stared at the woman's figure, thin waist, huge breasts, round behind topping long, smooth legs. The new woman's face was made up immaculately, pink lipstick on puffy lips, blue eye shadow. Her hair was long and blonde, expertly coiffed and styled. The woman wore a silver bikini top that barely covered anything, and an extremely short matching miniskirt. On her feet were a pair of silver high-heeled sandals, at least five inches high.

"As you can tell," a squeaky voice said in Jack's dispassionate tone, "the changes were profound."

"So she turned all the women into gorgeous sex-pots? Sure, looking like a bimbo wouldn't be ideal, but I don't know what the big deal is. If every woman looked like that, it would normalize pretty quickly, right?"

"Oh, I don't think you understand," Jack squeaked again, "I'm not a woman, I'm a man." Jack then lifted her skirt and revealed a penis held in a pouch in the front of her panties.

Zoë was dumbfounded. "But if you're a man," she said, her eyes wide, "what happened to the women?"

"Excellent question," Jack squeaked, "They..."