John - The Extranet Proximity Field

Saturday Morning - 6 am.

I awoke with a start, roused by the rough clicking of the lock as my roommate let his girlfriend into our apartment. Despite the early hour, the grey haze of the morning was already creeping in, and despite my closed door, the noise of the two of them getting ready was barely muffled.

"Hey, hey!" called Liv, her Nikes tapping on the kitchen tile."You about ready for today's run?"

"Almost," responded Zach, "just filling up the waters. You're welcome to come in, babe. John's not up yet."

I grumbled the word "motherfuckers" into my mattress, pulling a pillow over my head to try and block out the sound. Why on earth Zach had let Liv talk him into training for a marathon I have no idea, but it was **** on my sleep schedule. Between being one of those guys who has trouble falling back to sleep and late nights bartending, getting woken up by their morning ritual was really getting on my nerves. Especially when they flirted.

"Ooh, is that a new sports bra?"

"Sort of. Same brand, different color. You like?"

"Zachey likey, the purple goes great with your gorgeous eyes." Liv tittered, as Zach moved audibly in to kiss her neck. More titters ensued, as I stared at my popcorn ceiling and wished for ****.

Head pounding and still bleary-eyed, I reached for my cellphone to distract myself, only to abruptly realize what day it was. It's Saturday! Today was my day-off, and I had been planning out how I wanted to spend it for a while. Rising from my bed with a surge of newfound energy, I pulled into my gaming chair amid the array of my many electronics, and pulled out my latest gizmo: The Extranet Proximity Field (EPF).

Some context. After a chance meeting at the bar with a particularly, we'll say, eccentric stranger, I had been gifted an internet connection that could reach extraterrestrial networks. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I was soon sifting through webpages from empires light years away, reading through translated message boards from beings in the 4th and 5th dimension, and combing product listings from retailers so advanced their knickknacks could obliterate entire Earth industries. And so it was after a bit of research and some futzing around with intergalactic investment apps, first-time bids are free, I had purchased this life-changing little device.

Booting it up, I slipped the EPF's visor on over my eyes and connected its biomechanical appendage to the base of my spine. The initial installation had been traumatic to say the least, but since then I had gotten used to the neural port. One by one, the bones in my right arm slowly lit up, glowing pink through my pale skin, and the heads up display shimmered on, filling the top right corner of the silvery visor with tiny golden letters.

Initializing proximity field ... loading reproductive preferences ... processing

Hello, John

"Hey EPF," I nodded, slipping into a grey hoodie to conceal the back of the device before waltzing into the kitchen. Liv and Zach perked up, looking confused at my appearance. I paid them no mind, though I had to admit one thing: Zach was right, that white sports bra with the purple stripe down the middle really made his girlfriend's eyes pop.

More gold letters: On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your sexual confidence today?

"Hmm, 2 and a half," I said with a flick of my glowing hand, before fetching a box of Lucky Charms from a nearby cupboard. I found lower numbers tended to yield better results.

Thank you... calibrating therapy...one moment.

"Good morning space cadet," said Liv finally disentangling from her boyfriend, "did you want to join us? We were just about to go for a run."

I shrugged, passively pouring my cereal into the bowl. Liv rolled her eyes. The EPF was at 30%.

"You know, you're just feeding your body empty calories," said Liv. "That's not much of a breakfast."

"Come on, Liv with those rockin' goggles who would give a shit about their appearance, right John?" chuckled Zach. Liv laughed in turn as I sat silently pouring milk. "Where'd you land this new gadget, roomie?"

"A Tramsbrogordian education surplus store." I said, clearing my throat with a cough. I had quickly learned there was no real reason to be secretive about this stuff. No one seemed to believe me, and the EPF was at 55% anyway.

"Woww," Liv said sarcastically, "And what exactly is a Tramsbrogordian?"

"Well, for those not in the know," I said between spoonfuls, "Tramsbrogordians are dark black, vaguely resemble bicycle helmets, and have evolved to such a higher form of consciousness, their species is entirely afraid of sex. Essentially on the brink of overthinking themselves to extinction, one of the many methods they tried to curb their anxieties was this sexual exposure therapy game," I said tapping the side of the visor.

"Of course," replied Zach, "sounds like you and them have a lot in common." Liv chortled and shook her head. Her ponytail bouncing in disbelief. The EPF was at 70%.

"True, I've never had your luck with the ladies, Zach, which in fairness could stem from being the kind of guy who would want to use a procedurally generated reality warping field on random people, that's a fair hit," I responded, before drinking from the bowl. The apartment had started to shift to my preferences, the floor and walls turning inky black while a thick red curtain materialized above our balcony glass doors, bathing the apartment in lusty scarlet light. The wall art Zach had found at a flea market with Liv, pulsed and undulated before changing into burlesque posters of nude women wearing little more than lacy black masks. And also, much to my delight, Lucky on the cereal box had transitioned to a voluptuous redhead, squeezing an exposed teat into the bowl of cardboard marshmallows.

"We, uh, should probably get going," said Liv nervously, taken aback by a poster of one of the dancers spreading her pussy lips at Liv's 5'2" eye level. Something that to her knowledge had always been right beside her, but she found startling all the same. As she spoke, both Liv and Zach's running shorts blipped out of existence leaving them standing in the kitchen in their underwear, the curls of Liv's brown bush visible through her pink panties.

Profiles of frequent subjects found. Would you like to load-in "Bowers, Zachary" and "Halley, Liv" at this time?

"Sure, that'd be great," I said aloud, peeking at the EPF percentage one more time: 88%.

"Sounds good, babe. Training waits for no man!" replied Zach, but instead of heading for the door he moved dazedly to the center of the living room, laying out a wide yoga mat in front of our newly red leather couch. I followed suit, kicking my feet up on said couch to watch the show. A spotlight clicked on above Zach, bathing him in a cone of theatrical red light.

"Zach," laughed Liv, "what are you doing? We're supposed to go for a -- WHAT the fuck!" She cried, suddenly startled as her boyfriend of two-and-a-half years bent over and dropped trow, presenting her with an unblemished view of his winking asshole. Her eyes as wide as dinner plates, Liv watched with mounting confusion as Zach manhandled his glutes, shaking his cheeks like a mating bird waiting for his girlfriend to accept his invitation.

"Mmm babe, don't just stand there," Zach said with a slap, "Get on your knees and pucker up. We've got a long way to go before that Ass-Eating Competition!"

Dismayed, Liv spun back and forth between her boyfriend's buttocks and I, a strange urge causing her to take a couple steps towards Zach before she stopped herself. "What the hell, guys. Is this some kind of sick joke? I don't know what shit you're pulling, but I need you to stop it right now!"

Zach looked back over his shoulder innocently, two clouds of eye shadow materializing on his face as his exercise shirt morphed into a set of straps and buckles. Getting down on all fours, he returned Liv's gaze with concern, unable to comprehend why she wasn't racing to get nose deep in his ass. I opted to respond for him.

"Are you feeling alright, Liv? You've been training every Saturday morning for this contest," I lied.

"What are you talking about? We've been training for a marathon."

"I don't know. Your outfit says otherwise."

Liv looked down, shocked to see her sports bra crawling up her torso like a spider. Her breasts no longer supported, her pendulous tits tumbled out, crowned by a pair of black x-shaped pasties. In a nice touch they'd even been inscribed with Liv's new favorite sport; the right reading, "Ass," the left, "Champ". Similarly her panties had also adjusted, the straps arcing up her belly in a taught parabola that revealed her cute pubic hair in full. On the undies themselves, black letters had been ironed into the pink fabric bearing the words: "Rimbjob Queen," and a bit of slut juice had started to leak from the crotch. Her former sports bra settled into an **** chest-bearing croptop, framed by a lewd sparkly collar that read, "Zach's Bottom Bitch" in glittery letters. Her ponytail had split in two and much like her boyfriend, her face and eyes were now awash with makeup.

Convulsing and a bit revolted, Liv pivoted towards the door -- only to quickly lose balance, unused to the 8-inch Nike stripper heels that now adorned her calves. She tumbled to the floor, boobs first, causing me to chuckle involuntarily as I caught a glimpse of a bejeweled butt plug sliding into her keister.

"You know what's funny," I said watching the newly minted slut writhe, "under intergalactic law, reality warping is strictly illegal on higher beings. Like the EPF will physically shut off if I try to use it on one of them. But apparently it's fair game on you two -- which fits my purposes quite nicely.

Zach, my naked roommate, just stared up at me from the ground, smiling dutifully as his dick waggled between his legs. Liv had a different response.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME, YOU FUCKING FREAK? I'M GOING TO CALL THE COPS AND THEN I'M GOING TO SUE YOUR ASS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I KNEW YOU WERE A FUCKING CREEP, BUT THIS CROSSES THE GODDAMN LINE. MY MOTHER'S A LAWYER, JOHN, AND SHE'S GOING TO MAKE YOU WISH YOU'D NEVER BEEN BORN IF YOU DON'T FIX THIS SHIT RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!!"

I had to pause then. That was a lot of screaming. Probably too much screaming all things considered. I checked the EPF and found to my dismay, it was frozen at 99%.

"Fucking great," I muttered to myself. I looked to the front door, worried that Liv's shrieking might attract the neighbors and slow down the loading process even further. The Extranet Proximity Field didn't exactly respond well to unexpected variables. Like trying to go to the dentist with this thing on had been fucking insanity. But I needed to act fast and do something about Liv while this thing loaded.