Reap the rewards - Alt.

Cock raging in his pants, Timothy decides that it would definitely be best to get off instead of letting his hormones influence any further action. With how powerful this things was, the last thing he wanted was to fuck up the world permanently with some hasty change he'd make in a hormone-fueled haze. Closing the machine, he jumped up to his feet and set out to go find his mother, Dorothy, for some quick sexual release.

Out of habit, his feet brought him to Samantha's room. After all, it was only fair that the youngest sister would have first dibs at using their mother and Tim wanted to make sure that Sam didn't have any intentions on doing so. With that in mind, he knocked on the door and waited a brief moment before entering the room.

He stopped dead in his tracks, immediately realizing that the room itself had completely changed. Gone were the lavender walls and boyband posters that adorned them; there weren't any stuffed dolls covering the bed nor did they sport their usual girlish sheets; in fact, any sign that a girl had been living in this very room had completely vanished. Instead, the room was very professional - a single bed, closet and dresser, night table, and a wooden desk sitting at the far back.

And, sitting before it, Timothy's father - Douglas Shane.

"Dad?" the young man stammered, stepping back. "What are you doing here?"

The married father of four looked up from his papers and laptop, eyeing his son with a very business-like expression. "Can't you see I'm working Tim? I'm trying to work out the logistics of that business deal I need to close, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't barge in here."

His son blinked, not immediately understanding. Douglas Shane wasn't the worst father, but he was a businessman. Often called away on international meetings, business calls, and sporting a very stern outlook on life, he loved his four children by making sure that the four of them were able to live comfortably alongside their mother. Although, his love rarely extended beyond that. If anything, Timothy was rather surprised to find that his father was home; he wasn't expected for at least another hour or two. But that wasn't the young lad's main concern.

"Why are you in here?" He asked, eyes continuously shifting between his father and the echos of what was Samantha's room.

Douglas just stared at his son with a blank expression, not finding any humor in the situation. "This is my home office Tim."

"I..." Awkwardness settled between them as Tim quieted, the poor boy trying to quickly make sense of the situation. Evidently, his change had altered reality in a way he hadn't expected. "Where's Sam?"

Douglas stared at his son for a long second before turning back to his computer. "I'd imagine she's with your mother in the Master bedroom." He resumed typing, already dismissing the conversation. "If you're going to see them, would you tell them to keep it down? I'm trying to work."

Timothy blinked, still unnerved by the situation. "What? Right. Yeah, okay." He shuffled out of the room, hiding his embarrassment.

When the door closed, Tim took a deep breath, trying to analyze the situation. It seems that the way he'd worded his change had made it so that it was their father who slept in the spare room instead of Samantha. Glancing down the hallway towards the Master bedroom, he briefly wondered what he'd find beyond its threshold. He walked up the door, opening it slightly before peaking in.

Judging by the color of the room and the decorations on the wall, it was evident that a girl slept here. More them one, judging by the amount of clothes loitered around the floor and the three cabinets at the far back. He quickly summed up that it must be where Samantha and their mother slept, a fact reinforced by the framed pictures on the night table. He'd ever wager that Beth slept here as well when she was home from college, if the logical consistencies from his change held true. It seemed that by making it so that mothers shared their daughters' beds, he'd shuffled around the family's sleeping arrangements. Now the girls all shared one room while his father slept alone in what was Samantha's old room.

On the bed, to his surprise, was Samantha. The girl was naked, back arched in pleasure, one of her hands grasping a dark-haired head, pulling it further between her spread legs. he looked at the spectacle wide-eyed; so much for asking his sister if she wanted first dibs on their mother.

Closing the door in a rush, Timothy leaned back on the frame, trying to calm both his racing heart and uncontrolled hormones. With reaping the rewards of his change seemingly on hold, he made his way down to the living room and away from his sister's screeching mews of climactic sexual pleasure.

Not knowing what else to do, he fished out his phone from his pocket, deciding to call Candice and ask them where the pair of them stood. With their last couple text messages not giving him any hints, he swallowed his nerves and mustered his courage, eventually dialing the number.

The phone rang for three long moments before he heard a soft click and an even softer, feminine voice talking back.

"Hello? Candace speaking."

When the cries of Samantha's third orgasm echoed through the walls, Douglas Shane was convinced that his son hadn't followed through with his request.

Finishing up his last email, he closed the laptop and stood up, stretching his aching limbs. He'd decided to work from home that morning, hoping to use the quiet space of his home office to prepare and finalize the details for the big business deal he and his boss were hoping to close. He'd been able to go through most of the logistics and had prepared a solid list of selling points and key arguments he and his boss could use during tomorrow's meeting by the time his wife and kids had started arriving home. He was half-way through creating the presentation outline when Samantha's first cries of pleasure reached him, disrupting his work and slowing him down. Tim barging into the room for seemingly no reason hadn't helped either.

He turned away from his desk and headed towards his son's room, intent on having a talking with his son. While he couldn't chide his wife for helping their daughter with her sexual tension, the adolescent girl obviously needing release in her hormonal teenage years, he couldn't fathom why Tim hadn't asked the pair to quiet it down.

He knocked on Timothy's door and quickly entered it when no reply answered him. He scanned the room, noting immediately that his son was elsewhere, and was about to leave when something caught his eye.

It was an ancient-looking machine, much older than anything Douglas had ever seen. He walked up to it curious, wondering where his son had gotten it. After all, it didn't resemble anything he nor Dorothy had gotten Tim. He quickly found a power button, booting the machine out of idle, and was greeted with a single prompt.

New user detected. Please enter user's name.

Wondering what the hell this was, Douglas entered his name in full, watching the prompt disappear and a new one forming in its place.

Would Douglas Shane like to remember the changes made by this user?

Blinking, he typed 'Yes', wondering where this was going. The message disappeared, another one following soon after. This time he sat in his son's empty desk chair, scratching his chin in deep thought.

Welcome, Douglas Shane. How would you like to change the world?