Send her to the shower

"What's your name, slut?" you ask, reaching around to slap her ass.

She lets out a squeal as her smile widens. "I'm Teri."

"Teri, huh? So what're you doing here? Do you know my dad?"

She shakes her head, ponytail bouncing side to side. "No, I was just out jogging when he pulled over and picked me up. He said something about having two D-cups at home but never being able to fuck them, so he brought me here to use me."

"It's kind of strange, you know," she adds on, beginning a new line of thought. "I've never seen any guy just listen to the demands of another man looking to use the same slut. I figure your Dad was just being nice in giving me to you, but if he was complaining about not being to able to fuck the other sluts that live here with you...there's something special about you, huh?"

Your heart skips a beat. It seems that Teri is at least somewhat aware of how the apparent priority you hold over others is out of place with the rest of this world. Your analytic mind quickly begins to wonder what this could mean—

"Well, not like that's of any concern to me," she dismisses with a shrug and a playful smile. "I'm just a big-breasted whore looking to serve the men who want me. So, what did you want to do with me?"

—but her response to it calms you. By the looks of it, some people with mindful awareness might sense something strange about the priority you have over others, but just like everything else in the world, they'll simply shrug it off. Or, at the least, if they're not in a position to care about it, then it'll be of no issue to them.

"Alright, Teri. Go run me a hot shower, then wait for me there." She immediately rushes off into the hall, starting down towards the stairs before turning around and heading the other way. Clearly she's never been in your house before.

Now that you're alone in Greg's office, you decide it's time to do some research. Dropping into the office chair and wheeling over to the computer, you wake it up, entering the password you stole years ago. To your relief, it still works. A social networking page pops up on the screen, logged into your dad's account, which you were sure he didn't have before all of this happened. Browsing his feed, though, it soon becomes obvious why things are different in this world; it's covered in explicit photos of his busty friends and acquaintances, with a few strangers thrown into the mix. Some of them are simply posing, while others are taking one or more cocks while smiling for the camera. A few look completely normal, until you zoom in and see the layers of cum splattered over the subjects.

Navigating to your own page, you can't help but laugh at your new profile picture; you're sitting on the edge of a fountain, which you recognize as the one in the center of your university's campus, reading a textbook. As you study diligently, your mother, not yet visibly pregnant, is on all fours in front of you, pressing her ass between your legs. She's smiling for the camera, a fresh load of cum sticking to her face. All in all, you think it's the best profile picture you've ever taken.

Moving on from your own page, you do a search for Michael's mom. April's picture is equally entertaining, her lips pouting as she takes a selfie while being fucked doggy-style by her loving husband. You're somewhat disappointed that the duck face phenomenon among women is still present in this altered reality, but at least the expression is more enjoyable to look at when their faces and lips are doused in semen. As you scroll idly downward, you see a status update from just 15 minutes ago:

Going clubbing tonight with the hubby, fuck me if you find me ;)

Damn, she really is a hospitable woman. Looking at more of her pictures, some of which you're in, you subconsciously reach down to rub the crotch of your jeans. Catching yourself at the last moment, you change your mind and turn off the computer: no matter how hot April is, you've got better things than porn to get off to.

Leaving the office, you hear the shower running and head towards it.