This May Be An Ethical Conundrum

I looked around at my room, or rather, Mia’s room, and noticed that the girl wasn’t there. The room was empty. She must have been out, maybe hanging out with friends or downstairs with her family.

I sat on the edge of the bed and wondered what I wanted to do. There were so many things I could try my hand at. This dreamworld had seemingly endless possibilities. I have had the idea of creating a fantasy realm, complete with magic, dragons, elves, and other fantasy races. That was an exciting prospect. I could envision vast landscapes filled with towering castles and ancient forests, each corner of the world holding new and sexy fantastical women to fuck. It could feel like one of my favorite games, Skyrim, but with mods.

However, I knew that such an adventure would require time and dedication, much like my exploration of the Jedi Temple. It was an idea for another day.

Another thought that crossed my mind was more whimsical and indulgent. I thought about one of my biggest sexual fantasies. A mansion full of maids. A classic fantasy, one that many a hormonal teenager had likely thought of at some point in his life. It would be a smaller-scale adventure. Like my tour through Tokyo.

I thought some more, letting ideas flow through my mind.

There was yet another idea that piqued my interest. In the last couple of years, I had gotten into watching VTubers on YouTube and Twitch.

The more famous ones were from companies like Hololive and Nijisanji. There were others also, but those were the biggest ones. I had also occasionally looked at their fan art. Mostly the pornographic ones.

It was a thought that had crossed my mind ever since I left Zoe and Camila’s apartment this morning. Which felt like a lifetime ago. I imagined creating a place where I could see and interact with these VTubers in a more “real” way.

I imagined an apartment building filled with real-looking representations of VTubers. These 2D avatars, would become their 3D versions, but just as real as an actual person.

The thought of bringing these characters to life and then seeing them in an apartment setting, where they would have their computer and streaming setup, amused me. It would be like a realistic parallel to real world people that used those avatars to stream.

By creating an apartment building where these streamers resided, I could just visit them one by one, knocking on their doors, or just walking in since it was my Dreamworld.

I could just visit any of the girls from Hololive, like Fubuki or Towa and “play” with them, like so many other degenerates had dreamed about. I could even play the role of a landlord going door to door for the “rent”.

Those were the ideas I currently had. I could probably come up with some more, and I likely will, but that was what I had for now. Each was arousing in their own way, and I wanted to do something with them soon.

But there was one other idea that had been plaguing my head in a different way. This idea was a little more... concerning.

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I sat on the edge of the bed and imagined a person appearing in front of me. And not just any person either. This would be someone I know to be real.

I was going to create a copy of a real person from the waking world. Just to see if I could. And maybe to have sex with them. Though, I wasn't sure about that part yet. There were some moral questions I wasn't sure about here.

Regardless, this was a test I felt needed to happen at some point. Even if just to get it out of the way.

So, I imagined a woman. Not someone I personally knew. No. This was a woman that I had seen in a music video. A woman that was popular in the early two-thousands.

Britney Spears.

Yeah, she's gone just a little bit nuts in recent years, but I had seen that Toxic music video. That flight attendant outfit had gotten a few faps out of me.

Now, why Britney Spears? Honestly, I wasn’t sure. It could have been someone like Scarlett Johansson or Megan Fox, but that blue flight attendant outfit had been on my mind recently.

I imagined her at the age she was when she made that song, Toxic. I imagined her standing before me and passively obeying me. I thought strongly of that image and pushed the Dreamworld to make it happen.

In the blink of an eye she appeared before me, in the exact outfit as she wore in that video. She wore a blue flight attendant outfit with the short hem and a cleavage cutout and that small blue hat. It was an outfit you would never see on a real flight attendant these days.

The blonde stood there passively, waiting for my orders.

I stood up excitedly and leaned in close. I studied her face closely, getting in her space, something that would have creeped out any real person. She looked exactly like the real Britney Spears. Her blonde hair, her face, it all looked exactly how she looked in the music video.

The clothes were even identical, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching up and touching that cleavage cutout.

She was just as real as all the other people in this dream realm. She felt as real as everyone else. So, the first part of this experiment was a success. I would be able to make any real person I found attractive here in the Dreamworld. I could have my own celebrity harem of sex toys.

I continued to touch her chest. I caressed the valley between her tits, then shoved my hand under the fabric and squeezed her right boob. I was groping Britney Spears breasts. That fact alone was kind of wild.

How many people got to do this? A pleb like me certainly had no chance to get this intimate with a woman like her. And who else could I do this too? I tried racking my brain for other female celebrities, but I never really paid much attention to movies or TV shows. Maybe Natalie Portman from Star Wars, but then I could just go visit her character in the Star Wars universe I made.

Oh, but what if I made women and girls from my high school days. There were a few cheerleaders and other popular girls that I wouldn’t mind fabricating here. Especially the ones with bad attitudes like the bullies and mean girls. If anyone deserved to get fucked like that...

Anyway, that was for another time. There was a hot woman in front of me right now.

I hadn’t stopped groping her as I thought things through. I also reached up to touch her hair, then pulled that silly blue hat off of her and chucked it at a corner of the room. I stroked her hair and touched her face, her lips, and her ears.

She didn't react at all. Getting such a lack of reaction from someone I knew to be real brought a whole new layer to the excitement I already felt from the things I did in this world. The feeling that I was doing something wrong to a real person brought back the initial sense I had felt that first day here. That sense of wrongness that was ingrained in me by society that you didn’t just touch someone like this.

The feeling got the better of me and I lurched forward and embraced the passive woman. I pressed my mouth to her face and kissed her cheek. I kissed and licked my way up and over her forehead to the other cheek before pressing my lips to hers and shoving my tongue in her mouth. One hand held her head, fingers combing through and messing it up. The other hand squeezed her breast even harder.

Then both my hands went around her back and I hugged her to me tightly. I groped her butt hard, squeezing her globes like they were stress balls. I humped forward, mashing my crotch against her lower body. I thumped against her faster and faster, getting pretty rough with this well-known woman. I humped her like she was my personal sexual scratching post. But the thing that was “scratching” her was my dick against her thighs and hips.

After a moment longer I got a hold of myself and stopped. I breathed hard against her lips, even though I was pretty sure I didn’t need to breathe hard at all.

I stepped back, my heart pounding with excitement. She just stood there, blue flight-attendant getup slightly messed up, along with her hair.

“Okay,” I muttered. Time for the next part of the experiment. “Let’s see if I can make you act like her.”

I willed for her to act like the real Britney Spears. Like how she might have acted when she made the song Toxic. But she’ll accept me as the boss. She’ll answer everything and do everything I say with no hesitation.

She blinked. Then her shoulders loosened, hips cocked to one side, and a hint of that trademark Louisiana sugar popped into her voice.

“Oh, hey you.” She drawled, lips curling into a half-smirk. “You the director?” Her eyes were bright and playful. Like she’d just stepped off the set of her music video, and the cameras were still rolling.

My mouth went dry. My brain did a few flips at being addressed by someone it knew to be real and famous. A sexy woman like that was here in front me and smirking at me like that.

I’m just a man.

A man that has done some crazy things recently. I really should have gotten used to women by now, but I guess not.

“Uh, yeah. Director. Jacob. Do you know who you are?”

She laughed, light and breathy. “Britney Jean Spears, baby. Born December 2, 1981, Kentwood, Louisiana.” She tilted her head, ponytail swishing. “You want me to run lines or…?”

So, she remembers her place and date of birth.

“Favorite cereal growing up?” I fired off, testing.

“Fruity Pebbles, duh.” She answered instantly, rolling her eyes like I’d asked the dumbest question on Earth. “Mama’d hide the box so I wouldn’t eat it all before dance rehearsal.”

“First crush?”

“Brad Pitt.” She said with a coy shrug, then added, quickly, “But that was ages ago, sugar. Right now, I’m all yours.”

The way she said that made me blush a little. A woman like her was flirting with me and my brain was having trouble reminding itself that this wasn’t real.

“Sing the chorus of Toxic.” Still trying to test things.

She didn’t miss a beat.

“With a taste of your lips I’m on a ride, you’re toxic I’m slipping under, with a taste of a poison paradise...”

Pitch-perfect, breathy, the little tongue-click on “poison paradise”. She even did the hip pop on the off-beat.

My brain had two thoughts. One was: Holy shit, it really is her. The second: No, she’s just wearing her skin here in this fake place.

She stopped when she finished the chorus and waited for any other commands. She didn’t stand there passively though. She had personality in the way she leaned to one side and gave me that half-smirk.

Now came the next question. One that would be a little more intrusive.

“Britney.” I began. “Tell me about your parents. How’s your relationship with them?”

The flirty sparkle in her eyes dimmed instantly. She looked away and her shoulders curled inward, the playful tilt of her hips flattening. She held her elbow and made a hesitant noise with her mouth.

“Um…” She bit her lip. “It’s… complicated.”

Her Louisiana drawl cracked, softer now, almost a whisper. “Mama’s always been my rock, y’know? She drove me to every audition, every pageant. But Daddy…” She trailed off, eyes flicking to the floor. “He wasn’t around much after the divorce. And when he was, it was… fights. Money stuff. The conservatorship later—” She stopped, throat catching on that last syllable. She coughed and cleared her throat. “Sorry, sugar, I don’t usually talk about this.”

Was there a sudden British accent there? Weird.

She looked like she didn’t want to say any of that, but the obedience had kicked in. She had to answer. But the tremor in her voice, the way her fingers worried the hem of that blue skirt... She seemed way too real.

I felt like, if I asked any more questions then I was about to hear things that the real Britney would likely not want someone like me to know. And I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that.

If this fake version of her knew everything that the real one knew, then I could pry all her secrets out of her. That... that was dangerous. I could uncover anyone's secrets. Even powerful people, like politicians and world leaders.

I... I didn’t know what to do with that realization.

I took a deep breath and focused on Britney again.

“Do you want to be here?” I asked, trying to gauge if she had an ounce of free will, despite my powers.

Her smile came back.

“I’m exactly where you want me, Jacob.” She stepped closer; the flight-attendant skirt brushed my knees. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

The ethical alarm bells clanged loud in my ears. I could have sex with this woman, but that could be seen as wrong on a number of levels. Especially if she had all the human feelings of the real version. My mind knew that. My heart knew that. But my body was moving on its own again.

I pulled her close, hands sliding around her waist. She melted into me, soft and warm, the blue fabric of her outfit brushing my skin. Our lips met. Slow at first, testing. Then her tongue slipped against mine, eager, tasting faintly of cherry lip gloss. She sighed into my mouth, fingers curling into my hair.

“Jacob…” She breathed, voice husky.

I kissed her harder, hands roaming over the curve of her back, down to her ass. I lifted the short hem of her skirt, palming bare skin, squeezing the firm flesh. She pressed closer, hips rolling against my erection, a soft moan vibrating between us.

“Bed.” I rasped, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes.

She nodded, obedient, and crawled onto the mattress. Her skirt rode up, flashing blue panties as she lay back and spread her legs wide, knees bent, waiting.

I willed my clothes to disappear. My cock throbbed, aching. I climbed between her thighs, hooked a finger under the thin strip of fabric, and tugged it aside. She was already wet and dripping. I lined up and sank in slowly, watching her face as I filled her.

“Fuck.” I groaned. Britney Spears. I was fucking Britney Spears. The thought alone nearly sent me over. Her pussy was tight and hot, gripping me like a glove. She arched, moaning my name, nails digging into my shoulders.

I started moving hard, giving her deep thrusts that rocked the bed. She met every stroke, hips rolling, lips parted in breathy gasps. “Yes, ahh, Jacob, right there—”

I kissed her again, swallowing her moans, my hands going everywhere. Tits, ass, thighs. The room filled with the slap of skin, the wet sound of her pussy taking me. I fucked her like I’d fantasized a few hundred times. All signs of caution gone. Thrown to the wind.

Close. I was close. I was about to cum inside a celebrity.

I wanted her to cum too, so I willed her to cum with me. At the same time that I let go, I felt her clamp down, body shuddering as her orgasm hit. I followed, spilling inside her with a guttural groan, my hips jerking.

But I wasn’t done. I willed her to cum again. Her eyes rolled back, body jerking like she’d been shocked, pussy spasming around me. I kept thrusting, riding the waves, watching her tits bounce, her mouth open in silent screams.

Another orgasm again, and she was a mess, trembling, thighs quaking. I stayed hard, willed myself to, and fucked her through it, chasing my second. Her body jittered under me, her breasts bouncing under her blue outfit. I came again, flooding her, the sight of her wrecked face pushing me over the edge.

I collapsed on top of her, with my chest heaving. She lay there, panting, eyes glassy, and a dazed smile on her lips.

I... I just emptied my balls into a dream replica of Britney Spears.

God damn.

After catching my breath as I lay on top of her, breathing her scent, I eventually rolled off of her. I lay beside her and stared at her delirious face.

I made her have three consecutive orgasms, so it might take her a while to come down from that.

I reached over and fondled a boob, hearing a mild moan at my touch.

Then, with an odd sense of loss and... wrongness, I used my power to dismiss her. She disappeared and the bed was now empty again. Except for me.

I lay there on the bed.

Damn.

I could fuck any person that came to mind. If I met a hot woman while at college, or if I saw a hot woman while at my job... I could just create her here and do whatever I wanted with a copy of her body.

That was almost too much power.

Then I laughed. After creating an entire planet of alien women, this is where I felt that I had too much power?

I shook my head and felt a yawn coming. My jaw creaked and I felt drowsy. Oh, I guess it was time to end this day and head back to the grind of real life. My mind flittered to one woman I had to meet for one of my class’s assignments. Abbey.

I could-

No. Don’t do it.

Somehow that felt even more wrong.

I shook my head and focused on ending my session here in the Dreamworld.

And with all that I had done today already, I was really feeling the fatigue now. There were so many things I wanted to do, so many things to try out. Yet there was only so much time in a day, or night.

The ideas that I had come up with were only the tip of the iceberg. My head was swimming with wordless thoughts and countless fantasies. But my head was also having trouble staying awake right then.

So, I put a pause on all those thoughts and settled into the bed in this parallel version of my room. Mia, the girl that lived here in this house and slept in this room, may not have been present but I didn't worry too much about her. I just got under the covers and tried to get to sleep.

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