Birthday

(Content warning: watersports, scat)

A lot can change in three years.

Especially when time is actually just something you enforce for your own convenience, and that you can wholly disregard whenever it becomes inconvenient.

Take the nature of the simulation, for instance.

For the first seven decades or so, it was projected by actual matter, inside a real space station, running on physical computers powered by various means.

Then a year ago you'd figured out how to make a self-propagating simulation and finally rid yourself of that pesky dependence on anything real that required constant repair. The space station no longer existed. The computers generating the simulation now also generated themselves. Even the mind-chips were nothing more than projections now.

All of which meant that, with no physical constraints (such few as still existed) holding you back, you were able to run the simulation at an infinite frame rate with perfect resolution. Not only that, but you made a backup of the state of the simulation with every single frame, storage space no longer being a concern, and could restore it back to any past state whenever you wished, and even keep abandoned branches around in case you wanted to switch back to one of those for some reason.

You'd even figured out how to reach back in time and virtualise all of history, bringing everything that ever had been under your omnipotent control. You'd joked to Tina once that you could make everyone think Julius Caesar was actually a hot woman who got gangbanged on the floor of the Roman Senate; now you could make that history in truth.

Not that you'd told anyone except Tina.

It also meant that you were able to be much freer about using your abilities. Everyone else was simply **** to ignore the incongruities, and if that somehow failed, you could just reverse the entire simulation past the point of the failure. Not that failure had occurred yet.

You felt maybe a bit bad about having told Joan that you'd taken to not forcibly overriding others' preferences, but, as you rode a guy's huge dick in a sex park and stuck your own between the four massive boobs you'd just given him, you noted that, technically, you weren't doing that at the time and you still weren't. You'd just altered the simulation--reality itself, really, now--entirely so that you were an exception for everyone.

Which is why he was eagerly guzzling down the piss you were dumping into his mouth despite his refusal to do watersports with anyone else.

"Hey," you said, your tentacles playing with his nipples and cum gushing from his dick into your pussy, "I'm gonna give you a cunt and knock you up. You okay with that?" You slackened the flow of urine so that he could more easily reply.

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'd love to try being pregnant, so go ahead." The simulation simply made him ignore the implications of the fact that you could alter his projected body so easily, and never mind that the change was not one he'd ever have requested for himself.

Swiftly shoving your new second cock into his freshly made twat, you busted your own nut a few minutes later and ensured that he'd get pregnant with at least triplets. For yourself, of course, you had no desire to be pregnant, so all the jizz he'd spurted into you was just for pleasure.

Dismounting his shaft, you altered his torso again to leave him with only two breasts, about the same size as Inez's, which were generally considered the perfect size by everyone except when you decided to try making something else the ideal. He hefted his bust after standing up.

"Inezian boobs?" he asked, the term being in common parlance whenever you weren't messing with aesthetic preferences. "I like them." He stroked a nipple and a jet of milk shot out. "And lactation already?"

"Glad you do like them," you said. "The lactation must be a bug, but hey, who's gonna complain about some extra milk, right?" You gave your own nipples a squeeze and shot out cream of your own.

"Not me!" he said, mentally offering to swap contact information. You accepted, and he waved goodbye as he walked off.

His butt started swinging in a much more appealing fashion as you made it grow as a parting gift, drawing a number of eyes to it. Nobody questioned how his ass had suddenly just tripled in size.

You mentally cleaned yourself and didn't bother to get dressed, or even get rid of your second dick. Full nudity was perfectly acceptable in adult zones, after all, and now that people could freely move between them, you saw little reason ever to wear clothes given the perpetually perfect climate. In that way you weren't really any different from most people. Even those who'd uploaded to the simulation essentially as themselves had largely taken to ditching the encumbrances of clothing when they weren't necessary. Since you'd solidified your control over the simulation and enhanced your ability to correct errors through, essentially, infinite retries, you'd become far more willing to grant voluntary body modification requests, and thus it was generally assumed that everyone had exactly the body they wished to have. That had finally done in any fears of body shaming, even though the act itself had long been impossible within the simulation, and now everybody fully embraced their unique identities and expressed them through their bodies, among other means.

Except for a lingering cohort of uploaders whom you still resented for having done on a whim something you knew had taken great courage for people like your sisters and their husband and had then come to regret it. It was petty, and if you subjected yourself to the limitations of the simulation's ordinary programming you knew you'd fix it instantly, but what good was being all-powerful if you couldn't be a bit petty?

"Hey, Katey," came a mental request from your eldest daughter, originating from the sequestered portion of her mind-chip that wasn't accessible by the Tony part of their shared consciousness, "I wanna try having a fourth cock." Even though you usually approved changes within a few hours anyway, with a few exceptions (for instance, if someone had tried out their limited-use parental changes and reverted them, but then made a general-change request later on for something substantially similar, you generally made them wait a week or so just to make a point about not wasting their parental change), Joan still abused her connection to you to get your active attention on her request.

Not that you minded.

"Sure," you sent back, giving every single one of her hundreds of bodies a fourth massive dick. She wasn't actually having sex, you knew; she just enjoyed strutting around looking like the hottest slut in the simulation while broadcasting to everyone that she was firmly monogamous.

Well, except when it came to knocking up her family, anyway. When her next oldest sibling Callum had decided that he wanted to have breasts like his mother's and a pussy, Tony, picking up on Joan's latent fetish for impregnating her relatives, agreed to let her do that just once each time one of her siblings who had a twat was sufficiently into adulthood.

For his part, Callum had impregnated both his mother and his aunt Stella, and had himself eventually been knocked up by Stella. Breeding kinks ran strong in that genecode.

You'd even knocked up Nora yourself again just recently, double-penetrating her alongside Hugh to give her quintuplets who would be two-thirds-siblings for both Joan and Callum. Of course, you didn't intend to give them anywhere near as much special treatment as you'd given Joan; they were, by this point, just five of the thousands upon thousands you'd sired over the last two decades. Eventually, you knew, most of the simulation would claim descent from you. Not that anyone would be able to attach any special significance to that fact.

That was only after you and Hugh had done a porn holo together (with your identity obfuscated, of course) where you frotted and pegged each other while Nora, who'd found that a bit of Hugh's cuck fetish had rubbed off on her, watched on and fingered herself to many orgasms.

"Everything ready?" you transmitted to your sister Sam. She, Alex and Drew were preparing the twentieth birthday party for your sons and daughters, and of course didn't question why you were doing exactly none of the work when you were equally as much their parent.

"Yeah. Sim makes it easier, of course," she sent back.

"Mom and Dad?"

"Not coming, of course. Did you expect otherwise?"

"Nope. Maybe one day they'll come around."

"Ha. Drew said he'd be your personal foot cleaner for a decade if you ever convince Dad to suck his cocks."

"Drew already wants to be my personal foot cleaner."

"Drew wants to be everyone's personal foot cleaner," Alex chimed in. "He's offering exclusivity."

"Well, that's a much more tempting offer. Maybe the sim rot will finally get to them in a century or so." There was a noted phenomenon of uploaders (or, to be more precise, people who thought they were uploaders, now that you'd changed history so that all that had ever been was the simulation) who'd chosen to remain largely as themselves and try to maintain living the same life as they had before eventually succumbing to the raw debauchery of living in a hentai. Those studying the phenomenon called it "sim rot", and those who succumbed to it were, at least for a while, generally among the kinkiest freaks in the sim, as if trying to make up for lost time.

The studies weren't exactly shining examples of unbiased analysis, though. Most people who were **** to sim rot but hadn't succumbed tried to ignore the possibility as much as possible, so the researchers tended to be people who were already full participants in the sexual side of life, and had a hard time understanding why someone would resist, or be averse to, joining in.

"That'll be the day," Sam sent. "Anyway, you got approval for all those change gifts?"

"Only barely. Last one came through yesterday," you lied. "Been saving them up for this and forgoing any alterations I might want for myself." There wasn't any need to lie about that any more, of course; you were just practiced enough at it that the falsehood came more easily to you than the truth would.

"Great! How open-ended are they?" Alex asked.

"Why do you think it's taken so long? Can't exactly predict what they'll want, right?"

"True that," Sam sent. "See you shortly?"

You'd overlaid the adult simulation with the general one, which meant that every point served as a boundary between the two. In effect, it meant that as long as someone stayed in the adult sim, they could simply teleport wherever they pleased. So there was nothing that needed to be overridden to suppress any knowledge about any extra capabilities you might have when you vanished from the sex park and reappeared in your siblings' apartment, cocks already buried in their cunts.

"Giving us a present as well, sis?" Alex asked.

"Just a few pumps of jizz for my favourite cumdumps," you said. "Not knocking you up, though."

"Aww," said Sam. "Guess I'll just have to ask Drew for that, then."

"Today's about the eight we already have, not the ones you might have in future," you reminded them.

Drew came in a moment later and immediately arrowed for the foot you lifted.

"Hey, Dad," one of your four sons with the others said, walking in nonchalantly and sitting down. He made his pants vanish and started jerking his cock to the scene in front of him, until one of his sisters came along to give him a blowjob instead, anyway.

"Happy birthday, Ben," you said, Drew's mouth busy with your foot and Sam and Alex's busy moaning in orgasm. His sister Celia, her mouth full of dick, flashed you an OK hand sign and moved her other index finger in and out of the ring of it, now the universal symbol for "I want to fuck you so bad right now".

"Later today," you said, reiterating the promise all four of you had been making to them for the last two years. "The last change ticket came through yesterday, so you'll get to join us with the bodies you truly want, okay?"

Celia shot a middle finger at you, followed by a thumbs up.

George and Joel were next, walking awkwardly as they attempted to keep frotting until they could sit down in a chair designed for the purpose, followed by Ingrid and Sally, who were similarly awkward in that they were trying to suck each other's tits as they walked. Finally came Morgan and Jamie, who were practically falling over given how they had their hands all over each other's boobs, cocks and twats.

"Let's just cut to the chase, since you're all clearly horny and want my dicks in your holes," you said. "I've got a change ticket for each of you, they're the good ones, they'll just know what you want and give it to you. I had to grease quite a few palms to get these and even then it's taken me a while." In fairness, you'd greased a lot of palms over your time in the sim.

"Thank you, Dad," all eight chimed in unison.

The process itself was rather straightforward and anticlimactic. You simply looked at each one in turn, accessed their mind-chip, and applied the appropriate alterations.

Not surprisingly, Ben and Celia's alterations were the most minimal. Ben got firmer musculature and a larger cock; Celia received similar muscle tone and larger tits and ass, both of them ending up with sizable assets. Of course, that was by pre-upload standards; they weren't all that big compared to someone like Inez, but not everyone wanted to be even as big as her.

George and Joel technically didn't even want that much of a change, but it was definitely something that wouldn't have been possible back in reality, as both of them suddenly had prehensile cocks. Their frotting became much more comfortable as the shafts entwined around each other.

Ingrid and Sally, meanwhile, did want Inezian tits, along with gigantic asses, which you were happy to oblige. Each also had her right nipple turn into a lipple, allowing them to kiss while each sucked the other's regular breast.

Morgan and Jamie were the only ones who wanted anything truly extensive, and even then it was standard mythological transformations. Morgan became a lamia like Tina, though keeping their dick, while Jamie turned into a centaur, with cocks both in front and back. Morgan eagerly slid onto the dick running beneath Jamie's lower torso, and the strategically placed tentacles you quietly inserted ensured that they'd be able to pleasure each other fully.

"Now," you said, seeing all eight of them much happier with their new forms, "what did they teach you about indulging fetishes in sex class?"

"If you're not sure, try it once," came from the mouths that weren't otherwise full.

"Exactly," you said. You'd made it so that sex, which was, of course, necessarily consensual, couldn't actually be a truly bad experience. People could still be put off by various sexual activities, of course, but everyone, other than those entirely averse to sex, was encouraged to explore their own limits by trying everything once and seeing whether it enhanced the experience. If it wasn't something they wanted to repeat, they'd just add it to their own list of limits, but the initial experience couldn't be received negatively, just neutrally.

"So," you continued, "how about we try one of the more out-there kinks? After all, why do you think there's no birthday cake?" You squeezed your ass cheeks and a large glob of shit dropped out of them onto the floor, vanishing shortly thereafter.

"Sure," Ben said, blowing a load down Celia's gullet. She gave his shaft a long, loving lick as he removed it from her mouth. "Try it once," he went on, shoving his face between your cheeks.