The square base of the statue fit neatly between the others, only a little bit of space required so that its gold trimmed edges didn't collide with anything. The angel stood proudly on the base, head tilted to address the open book in its hands. It was by far the biggest trophy on the shelf, and the finely crafted human figure set it apart from the others, neatly directing the eye up towards the plaque on the wall. "Syr Susan May", read the biggest, boldest words. Just below them, a few tributes to her family and a bit of latin officiating her knighthood. After giving the angel statue a final once over Susan sighed with relief. She was worried the entire drive home that she'd have no space on the shelf. The last thing she wanted was to leave it laying around unprotected in her messy flat. One of the rare times she saw value in living bigger; not that she'd ever buy anything more, unless she had someone too share it with. She hit the bed like a brick. God, she felt like she could've collapsed right then and there. She hated talking to people, hated being the center of attention, hated the compliments that made her feel like some sort of prodigy. Like most people who made great things, she only saw the flaws. Her anxieties weren't crippling, but anyone would feel exhausted after an award ceremony like that. If she had it her way, she'd just have it mailed to her, and never have to leave the house again. But she was home now. She was okay; and she could really use a shower.

Susan dropped her towel in front of the mirror, kicking away both it and a pizza box she'd left forgotten a few days ago. The woman observed herself carefully as she brushed her hair and checked for any sag in her skin. The only things that she ever noticed were the deepening purple beneath her eyes, a clear sign of someone who'd gone through many, many sleepless nights. The twenty four year old was far too young for the wrinkling she was looking for, but she'd been checking obsessively for years. It was more of a habit than anything. Another habit was rubbing her chest to see if they felt any different. Just as they had every day since they first reached B cups over a decade ago,  they didn't feel any bigger. Her body was thin but not bony, her skin was pale but not frail, her appearance was average but not attractive. Just as it always had been... Susan turned her head to the trophy shelf again. She really tried to really absorb what she saw. Globes carved in fine silver, finely engraved medals, works of art with her name on them, and her new golden angel. A weak smile crept over her face. It was enough to make anyone proud, even if catapulting technology decades ahead hardly brought boys to the yard. But what really got her smiling was what was on top of the glass. A small, old but fantastically maintained plastic doll.

The whir of the computer fans filled the room, the only sound in an otherwise silent, lamp lit room. Susan sat crouched in front of her behemoth of a setup with the doll in her palm. It was an eight inch tall model of a woman with smooth tan plastic skin and barely articulated joints. Her head had molded, neck length hair that framed her face - which consisted of only a  pair of V-shaped shades and a drawn on white boomerang for a mouth. It was her favorite toy as a child, but it wasn't the type of thing they gave to kids anymore.Owing to a wasp waist, almost nonexistant clothing in the form of a rubber top and a G-string, and spherical breasts as that were bigger than the doll's torso. Far too cartoony to actually be stimulating. For most people. Normal people. Not for Susan; her trophy case had proven she was anything but normal. She'd always wanted to be like Sunny. Even when she was topping her class's score charts, and then her school's, she always said she just wanted to be pretty and happy when she grew up. But when you progress from topping the school's score charts, to the country's, to the world's, you don't have much time for makeup, let alone teen romance. 

The computer screen filled with a plain console as an ASCII beach was printed into the text field, the words "Sunny Skies" faded into the background. Susan smiled, feeling relieved that it had managed to run. Most of the past few months had just been spent optimizing the massive codebase she'd created so that her setup could run it. While the literal supercomputer was provided by the government so that she wouldn't be limited by consumer tech even while at home, she could use it for whatever she wanted - and what she wanted was pushing even it to the limit. A prompt appeared on screen to "Attach the Model" before advancing. Crawling under the desk, she carefully lifted out a replica of the doll, only significantly bigger and more refined. It was now scaled up to be larger than she was, with subtle, hollow balljoints disguised under masterfully painted plastic. If anyone saw it, they'd probably think it was some bizarre sex toy. And in a way, it was. Susan pressed a few buttons across its body, and it opened down the middle. Opening it up, she revealed a chamber just barely big enough to fit her, covered wall to wall in rubbery foam. She switched the lamp off; she needed everything to be as dark as it could be for the next few hours.

Slipping herself in, Susan felt the rubber depress under her torso, the warmth of the room already beginning to heat it. The doll was incredibly well ventilated despite its appearance - last thing she wanted was to cook inside it. Was she forgetting anything? ... Of course. How could she forget? She reached under the desk and pulled out a heavy, rounded recreation of Sunny's shades, several cables connected to the back which she slotted into her computer's ports. She closed the doll's head around her own before snapping the shades over its face. She couldn't so much as wiggle her skull, cushioned by layers of rubber designed to perfectly capture it, breathing filtered through thousands of tiny holes in the cartoon mouth. Sliding her arms and legs into the doll, she held a few cables in the hands tightly, and in a single tug, the doll mechanically shut over her. She was plunged into complete darkness. Silently, the shades came to life, and within a moment they were projecting the green text of the console before Susan's eyes.

"SUNNY SKIES, v 1.0.0. Model attached. Model opened. Model sealed. Model occupied." A few seconds passed as a small green sun icon spun. "WARNING! Sunny Skies is an experimental piece of technology employing advanced artifical intelligence algorithms in combination with full body stimulus and hypnotherapy. Though physical harm is not possible, due to the highly experimental, procedural, and realistic nature of Sunny Skies, psychological effects are expected and cannot be comprehensively covered. Continue?" There was a linebreak, followed by a simple yes no prompt. "Yes." Susan said, after a minute of silence. "Good evening, Susan. Beginning neural link; please follow the pink dot with your eyes, as accurately and smoothly as possible... good girl..."



"Awake."
Susan's eyes snapped open. She was sitting in her room, knees raised and arms folded limply over them. She was wide awake, as if she hadn't even been sleeping, but her body moved as if it had been rigid for hours. Shaking her arms awake, she turned her head to orientate herself, seeing the computer shut off and the desk cleared away. She snapped her fingers, frustrated by what must've been a crash right as things were looking up. But then she realized something; the doll wasn't there. That had taken dozens of hours to build! Quickly raising herself to her knees, she let out a gasp and tumbled to the floor, completely off balance. Her landing wasn't as rough as she expected, and by the time she was raising herself up again, she realized why. Her tits had softened the fall. Her giant, firm, round, beachball tits. Susan was stuck staring at the flushed, tanned set for a while, not even quite registering what they implied. Mindlessly, she grabbed one with her segmented fingers, immediately feeling how heavy they were. They must've been several pounds all on their own, and their firm, fake perkiness really made her feel like some... well. Some bimbo! They were far more sloped than the two basic shapes that were Sunny's actual breasts, and she realized that they were "higher poly" - but still basic, and still polygonal. In fact, everything was. 

Rolling onto her back, the set of shades that were her eyes raised slightly as her tits stayed almost perfectly pert on her pencil of a torso, only slightly giving to the forces of gravity. She was stunned into silence as she watched her two spherical breasts sit comfortably on a smooth, barely featured torso, as charming as Sunny herself and as fake as bolt ons. Susan ran her simplified hands down her stomach searching for the barely existent bump that was now her navel. Wrapping her ball-jointed fingers around her stomach, she gasped as she pinched her sides, waist now so comically thin that it almost fit in her palm. She tried to keep her grasp tight as she moved downward, but didn't get more than a few inches before she was stopped by her wide hips. Finally she found what she was looking for. She heaved her large head off the carpet and watched as her fingers played over her pelvis, particularly searching over the painted on panties between her smooth legs. There was nothing there. Not so much as a bump. Instinctively trying to raise eyebrows - only to realize she didn't have any - Susan began to circle what should've been her pubic mound. Was it... gone? Was- was- Ah!

Susan gasped as she felt a throbbing sensation rush between her legs. Her hand immediately jumped from between her thighs and to cover her mouth - that sound she had just made was not her voice. That sound... she had just made... was not her voice! The realization hit her far later than it should have. Giving her body one final glance over - and lingering for a bit too long on her aqua colored underwear - she scrambled onto her segmented knees. She needed to find a better view of herself. A single misplaced twitch sent her toppling onto all fours as the heft of her tits forcing her forward as the weight of her rotund ass sent her back. She'd... have to save walking for later. For the moment, she settled to crawling on all fours towards the floor length mirror she'd been brushing her hair in before. The face in the reflection almost made her jump. A perfectly circular, blonde haired head on top of dainty shoulders, eyes covered by shades perpetually reflecting sunlight that didn't exist, and a white, static, cartoony smile. She didn't want to look away. She tore her gaze to her chest for just a minute as she awkwardly lifted her arms off the ground; her tits were as firm as they looked! No longer having to worry about supporting herself with them, Susan roamed her hands over her spherical head, feeling for any trace of her usual slightly-too-pronounced cheekbones or just-visible-enough moles. Nothing.

Giddy didn't cover it. Susan felt like she could explode. "Oh my God!" She cried, immediately covering her mouth. "Um. Still going to have to get used to this voice, I guess", she thought for a moment, before letting her hands roam down to the beach balls that were propping her up. Looking herself straight in the shades, she pushed her tits against one another, watching them ever so slightly squish, and giggled. Another moment of thinking. "Oh my God!" She repeated, laughing like a school girl who had just heard some dirty gossip. She raised herself onto her knees just long enough to fall forward onto the mirror, one hand on either side of it stopping her inevitable fall and putting her face mere inches from her reflection. She hesitated, shook her head, and leaned in even closer. The mood was killed just a little bit when she banged her face on the glass instead of kissing her reflection with a set of lips she'd forgotten she didn't have. It... really was just a strip of white on her face. "Hum. And how am I breathing?", she asked herself, the scientific part of her mind acted before the basic logic part. If it wasn't for the fact it'd require her to look away, she'd have hit herself on the head - obviously she didn't need to breathe. This was a simulation!

And a simulation she'd been working on for quite a while at that. It was stupid she could ever forget - but hey, it just meant it was working, even if the mirror was a little too polygonal to be truly convincing. Ever since she'd first gotten into VR tech in her early preteeens, she'd been interested in taking it further, even jailbreaking her own set and making a few custom mods for some science homework. She never thought she deserved that A+ - the liminal object scaling was horrendously optimized. But as pet projects turned to international scholarships, and international scholarships turned to international acclaim, VR fell to the side. But she knew what she could do with it. She knew she could turn virtual reality into simulated reality - she could become anything she wanted! Uh. So long as what she wanted wasn't... too high fidelity. Of course she knew what she had to do. She'd always wanted to be like Sunny.