Easy Mode (Part 4) [MF][MF][Mast][Md][MC][Exh][Voy][Oral][SciFi]

**Easy Mode (Part 4)**

**The story so far:**

Henry accidentally walked into traffic. End of Story. Well…that was, until he ‘respawned’ a few moments earlier, and he realized there was more to his reality that he was previously aware. He now seems to have access to auxiliary layers of reality, and better yet, control. His access to hidden insights allows his to seek quick paths to sex, and made him realize his wife has a bit of a wild side…his neighbors, too.

—-

**Whois (Level 0, 9 XP)**

I didn’t do much of anything until the next afternoon. The evening with my neighbors had been a little weird, certainly unexpected, but not unpleasant. At the very least, it wasn’t cheating, since my own wife had been present—participated, even—during the evening, but I was near-giddy at having slept with two other women in one day. After we left our neighbors’ place, Karen treated the rest of evening as a normal Thursday night, getting her stuff ready for the next morning, watching a little TV, and going to bed at a reasonable hour. I thought I would have trouble getting to sleep, but honestly, I had the best rest I’d had in as long as I could remember.

I went through my normal work day, Friday’s being light, didn’t speed through anything other than my morning commute. I was pleasantly surprised to find that whatever was going on with me—the program?—it assured me I would never get into an accident while in fast-forward. I bummed around at work, not really slacking, but not pushing too hard either. I spent some time thinking about what I might try to change or accomplish with my new text files, and I felt a little foolish for not putting them in the cloud so I could browse or experiment on my phone. One thing I did discover was that the conversational prompts I got were often based on insights about the people I was interacting with.

I thought, based on my early experiences, that conversation choices three and above were always going to be more daring, possibly lead to sex or something, but that wasn’t the case when I’d tried a number 4 chat option with one of the hot young interns. She definitely opened up to my conversation, but she ended up with a distinct “Not interested” denotation under her name.

I tried finding Tabitha, and yes, she *was* at work, but we always seemed to be in opposite sides of the building. I left a little early, especially since my autodrive mode got me to work almost fifteen minutes earlier (I had no idea how, but I wasn’t going to complain. I used the function on my return, too, and since Karen’s normal Thursday meeting had been moved to Friday, I had over an hour to, well, fuck around.

I went up to my room and stripped naked, pulling on a t-shirt, but nothing else. It was cool enough in the house that I didn’t want to be shivering. It felt good to be naked, and it helped to not wear anything from the waist down since I’d been getting erections on and off all day. Intentional or not, my libido was more formidable than it had ever been in my life. I went to my computer and sat down, my cock pointing to the sky in habitual readiness for my afternoon jerk-off session. I’d been thinking about the text files all day—probably not what most people fantasize about at work—and I opened them. Going back into the section I specifically made for sexual stuff, I increased my stamina to 30 minutes, but decreased my libido a bit. I’d been able to satisfy my wife and Anne in one go, but it had been close. I had no idea if the libido level would ease my frequent erections, but it was something I could adjust if needed.

I took some time searching through the non-editable text file and came to realization that much of it could feasibly be copied into the other file, then changed. One of the sections I started with was my sexual history. It included everyone I’d ever dated, let alone had sex with. The list wasn’t huge, but nine sexual partners, now including Tabitha and Anne, was more than I’d honestly remembered. I was surprised to see a girl I knew from college, and my memory was jogged to a fun but blurry night after a party. Every entry provided details of what I’d down with the women…intercourse, handjobs, oral, whatever. It was all there with dates, time, and actual numbers. My wife had given me 34 handjobs. She didn’t do it too often—honestly, she wasn’t that good at it—but the numbers seemed accurate.

One of the intriguing details was only found under my wife’s entry: *Nude Photos = Yes*. *Dates Taken = …* well, the sole *date* was from when we were first dating. I still had the pics, occasionally jerked off to them—true love in some people’s book—but I didn’t have more than that one set. Karen hadn’t been that creative, but I had handful of fully nude shots of her, her wearing a trenchcoat and nothing else, some fake upskirts…I was a simple man of simple tastes.

As an experiment, I added the date of our wedding day and checked the folder where I hid my porn. A grin spread on my face seeing a new folder with that date. I opened it up and saw my wife smiling for the camera, stripping off her wedding dress, the lingerie, she was blowing me, another of her standing on the balcony of our hotel in nothing but a veil and holding a bottle of champagne, some of me actually fucking her. Excitedly, I added a few more dates, Fourth of July from a few years ago, our week at a beach resort, and last week, just for the hell of it. She’d been feeling down on herself at the resort, and wore a one-piece at the pool and beach, but there she was naked in the surf, standing on our balcony looking out at the ocean in nothing but sunglasses, and another of her wearing a sheer coverall in broad daylight at the resort with nothing underneath. Not the Karen I really knew, but definitely one I liked.

We hadn’t had sex the previous week, but in the more recent folders, there was Karen, taking a selfie of her tits in her office, an upskirt in her car, naked in a changing room at a store, trying on some lingerie. I checked my phone. They were in my text log, too…with some distinctly sexy messages. I went into a spreadsheet and quickly created a date list covering every month for the past two years. Yay, autofill! I appended it to my wife’s file and blinked, seeing 24 new folders appear. Each one had random nudes of Karen, tanlines changing, her bush trimmed, her bush fuller, edged for bikini season…I was jerking off to her as if she was my favorite porn star, which, in some senses, she was, even if she normally *only* performed for me.

*Perk Unlocked: That’s Not How I Remember It. You altered events more than a year ago. Baseline reality is now more flexible to your editing. +1 XP.*

*Level up! You are now level one! Perks and options are now more effective and numerous. Not much else is different. Level 1, 10 XP.*

“Now, what the hell does that mean?” I asked aloud.

*Levels reflect an increase in skill based on—.*

“No, I know what fucking leveling is!” Though, honestly, I wasn’t aware was working toward leveling. “What does baseline reality mean?”

*Baseline reality is attached to your core existence and is the setting your character exists in. Your core existence is a sphere that extends in a 500 meter (approximately 1640 feet) radius from your character at all times and correlates directly to your personal timeline to the initial spawn of this character, otherwise known as birth. Additional layers of baseline reality extend to your sphere of influence, regional location, country of domicile, and planetary affiliation.*

“Whoa.” I blinked. “Tell me more.” The text continued.

*Baseline reality can be altered by characters at decreasing levels of persistence and flexibility based on the level beyond core existence. Alterations that are not narratively consistent will revert immediately or over time, depending on the severity of baseline reality distortion. Caution: Inconsistent alterations can result in character corruption or death.*

“Caution, it is, then.” I said.

*Achievement Unlocked: RTFM. You read the friggin’ manual. +1 XP. Level 1, 11 XP.*

“Not intentionally, but sure.” I muttered. Even if I wasn’t crazy, I was definitely talking to myself more.

I thought about the mumbo jumbo about baseline reality and was coming to the realization that this wasn’t all some coma dream. I couldn’t have thought up that bullshit—or the consequences—if I had wanted to. You don’t become a spreadsheet aficionado if you’re a readily creative soul. Of course, being warned of the dangers of altering reality, I immediately decided to experiment with Tabitha, too, creating a photos line, and adding dates from when we’d first started working together, and from yesterday. Sure enough, I ended up with about thirty photos of her, half from Thursday, and the rest from when we were in the entry-level program at the company.

“God, I remember jerking off to you so much back then.” I sighed. It was true, though I had to *imagine* her naked. I opened the folder with her earlier pictures and started masturbating in earnest to the pictures of that younger, recent college grad I’d trained with. She was in her old shabby apartment, but she looked good, had some sexy but cheap lingerie on in a few photos, and there she was in a few more using a vibrator. I started coming and caught it in a couple of tissues. A moment later, a chat window pinged opened on my screen. I jumped, especially since I didn’t have any chat clients installed.

“Are you done jerking off yet, or should I wait til later?”

“Who is this?” I typed.

“The reason you don’t know that, Henry, is that I have my privacy setting on. Go into your text file and type: PrivacyFilter = 2” I froze. Whoever it was…they knew about the text file. When there was no response, I took a second to type what they suggested.

*Enter new username.* A prompt appeared. I typed ‘Heneree’. It was an old nickname a cousin used to put on all my birthday cards as a kid. Nothing seemed to change, but a new message appeared: “Accept friend request?” I typed “yes” and then there was a name attached to the person chatting: Lowkey.

“Like the Norse god?” I typed.

“Aren’t you clever? Though *your* username may say otherwise. Thank you for putting on your filter. I was tired of seeing your dick, and more importantly, seeing you jerking off. It’s nice you still get off on your wife, though. Who’s Tabitha? Is she a new toy you picked up with your new powers?”

“Seriously, who is this?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Henry? I’m like you. I died.” I stared at the words on the screen for what seemed like minutes. “Dun dun duuuuunnnn! There are more of us!”

“More of what, exactly?” I asked.

“Players. Players *characters*…not NPCs, like, well, mostly *everyone* else in the world. Surely, you’ve seen the prompts from the system? The perks? The achievements? A lot of them refer to ‘players’ in plural. I wouldn’t even call that a clue. It’s actually pretty obvious.”

“How do I know this is real?”

“That’s a much deeper question than you realize, but, well, I’m guessing you died yesterday, at 1:48pm, to be precise, and I have a filter to notify me of new players in my region, and you were even easier to find, given that we live in the same metro area *and* you had no privacy filter on. I’ve been checking in on you via various cameras…your PC, your phone, other surveillance cameras at work, on your commute. Lotta cameras out there, honestly.”

“You’re spying on me?”

“More like, carefully waiting for a moment to talk. Can’t do that when you’re at work, can I? You wouldn’t want the possibility of some sysadmin seeing a chat log of this conversation, would you?” I realized whoever this was, well, they were correct about that. “I’d like to meet, Henry. You’re only the second real person I’ve found so far in the game.”

“What happened to the other one?”

“He quit.” I stared at words. “He killed himself, Henry. He didn’t like the new game mode.” I swore aloud. “Privacy mode 2 still lets me listen in, Henry. I just can’t actively see you now.”

“Then why the fuck am I typing?” I said.

“Good point…why *are* you typing? You’re not a quick study, are you?”

“I hate this clever hacker shit.” I said aloud.

“Sorry, not-Neo…that’s just the way it’s going to be for now.” The words said on my screen. “So, Monday, at the gyro stand in the plaza near your office. Buy two gyros and a Diet Pepsi. I’ll recognize you—even with your pants on—but you’ll know it’s me when I ask for your Diet Pepsi. No one drinks that shit in real life. See you then. Try not to get rug burn from jerking off so much.” A message popped up: Lowkey has left the chat. A moment later, another message appeared in my vision: *Other players may occasionally contact you. It us up to you to determine if you respond.*

“A little slow on that one.” I growled, but there was no answer. My heart was beating, but it wasn’t fear, more excitement. There was another one! But then the thought hit me…Tabitha, Karen…pretty much everyone else…they weren’t real? Or, not *as real* as me? Had they just not died *enough* yet? That wasn’t an experiment I was willing to pursue, but I felt weird, suddenly disconnected.

Yes, the system, the game, whatever…it had been referring to other people as NPCs all along, but all the people *seemed* real. Still, they were also labeled like the fake people in some video game RPG. Sexy secretary, cab driver, garbage man. If I didn’t know their names, they were what I observed and assumed. Nothing more.

“If that’s the case…what *are* the consequences?” I said. This wasn’t as deep as it might appear, because the next thing I did was create two new entries under my sexual history, one for each of Karen’s sisters. Yes, it was pervy, but this was something I knew—I *knew* I hadn’t slept with them, had never seen them naked—though I’d occasionally fantasized about it. Okay, well, I’d accidentally seen Jenny’s butt a few years back when she left the door open to her room after a taking a shower, but that hardly counted, and I’d never told anyone. This was a solid test of my own craziness, or lack thereof. Jenny was three years younger than Karen, and Terri was not quite two years older. They usually stayed with us every Christmas. Jenny usually arrived talking about some new boyfriend each year, and Terri bemoaned her lack of love life living out in LA. Karen was the only relatively normal and happy one, at least as far as I knew.

Going back in my spreadsheet, I made a list of Christmas Eves and Christmas Days for the past five years. I put Eves under Jenny, and Days under Terri, and then it was simply a matter of creating entries for handjobs and blowjobs, respectively. It was a good gift, that was for sure. I still had no memory of the events, so I created associated photo dates, and some nudes appeared for both sisters. Jenny was the shortest of the three, but not petite by any stretch. She did have smaller breasts and a narrow landing strip of dark hair like Karen. A tight little body, though. All that yoga, I guess. Terri had breasts about as big as Karen’s—honestly, they were close to being twins—but she was waxed in all her photos. They seemed to be sending *me* photos, but that didn’t make a lot of sense. Who was holding the camera? I had to be, right? The thought struck me to try something, and I created a new line for Terri called: Nude Videos = Yes. I copied the dates again and looked in the folders. I played the first video in the list.

“I’m sorry I didn’t have any gifts for you—my luggage still hasn’t come back from the airport.” It was Terri in a pair of my wife’s old pajamas, a little snug at the top, and I was sitting next to her on the couch, the late morning sun coming the windows. I was apparently filming, though I had no idea why.

“It’s fine, but you could have gone out with your sisters to go shopping.” I heard myself say.

“In pajamas.” She tugged at her top. “The guys at the mall might have liked that considering I don’t even have any clean underwear. Are you really filming this?” She laughed. “Boys and their new electronics.”

“The quality on my new phone is amazing.” I laughed. “I’m getting a really good shot of your cleavage, especially with no bra on.”

“Stop it!” She laughed back, though made no effort to cover herself. “I’ll tell Karen.”

“Hey, I have you on video telling me you’re not wearing any underwear—that’s proof you’re leading me on.” Terri’s expression changed, looked a little more serious.

“I’m not, you know.”

“Not what, leading me on?”

“Wearing anything under this.” She leaned in. “If I give you a present, you promise not tell anyone?”

“Um…it, um, depends on what it is.” I not-quite-smoothly responded. She stood up and peeled off her top, her breasts pale in the morning light. She let the top fall to the floor and ran her hands over her breasts, her nipples, as she gave a shy smile.

“You want to unwrap the rest?” She stepped closer and he—I—reached out and pulled at one side other shorts, the other hand still holding the phone. “Boys,” she started, and pulled off her shorts in one swift move, “and their toys.” I reached for her, but she took a step back and did a little turn. “Well?”

“Well, *what*?” I laughed.

“It’s not every day I strip for you, you know.” She pouted. “*Especially* not on camera.”

“No offense, Terri, but what are you looking to have happen here? Out of nowhere, you take off your clothes, and yes, you look amazing, but I reached for you, and you backed off. I’ve been tenting my own pajamas for the last minute or so…is that what you wanted?” She looked down at my crotch, and the camera panned so that I could see the shape of my erection in my pajamas. I pulled one of the flaps on my fly, and my cock sprang free. “The thing is, Terri, Jenny pulled a similar stunt yesterday late morning when you were at the grocery store with Karen.”

“Jenny did…what?” She asked, confused.

“She came downstairs before her shower yesterday—naked. Asked me where the spare towels were, let me get a good look, giggled a bit when I got hard…but she gave me a *real* present.”

“Umm…” Terri said, but I made a jerk off gesture. “Oh.” Her eyes widened.

“I don’t know if you two have a bet, or if it’s a dare, whatever…but I’ll play along.” I set the phone to the side, but it was still recording with an excellent line of sight. “How are *you* going to top *Jenny’s* gift?”

“I—I can’t *fuck* you.” She nearly whispered. “Karen’s my sister.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure she’d care—hell, for all I know, she’s in on it—but I’m game. What *can* you do, Terri?” She glanced around, but finally, got on her knees between my legs.

“You can’t tell anyone, Henry,” she said, grabbing my cock and stroking it gently, “I’m happy to do this, to give you something. You like it, right?” I nodded in the video. “Just relax…and remember, it’s only because it’s Christmas.” I watched as her naked form leaned in and her mouth slid halfway down my shaft. The ‘me’ on the video definitely seemed to be enjoying it, and I started jerking off in unison. I wished in that moment that I could actually recall the event, but it was all some sort of hologram or whatever, wasn’t it? I came shortly after the other me started spurting on screen. Terri laughed a little as I came on her chin and chest she pulled back. “Next time, warn me.” She laughed harder, looking down at the mess. “Well, at least I haven’t taken a shower yet.”

“Now you can tell your friends back in LA that you got a pearl necklace for Christmas.”

“Har dee har har.” She said flatly, standing up and giving the camera clear view of her body. Video-me reached out and tried to touch her waxed pussy, but she slapped the hand away. “I’ll take care of *that* in the shower.” She laughed. “Besides, you have nothing left to give me.” It was true, my cock was limp. She turned and bent over, showing off an ass slightly rounder than Karen’s—even five years in the past—and grabbed the pajamas, careful not to get come on them. “It was good, though, right?” She asked, looking back at me. “Better than Jenny, at least?”

“What you just did? I’ll take that *every* Christmas…way better than the socks or whatever you probably had planned.” The video ended just after she left the room.

“Fuck.” I said in my office. “This is weird, scary, and I don’t know whether I’m a creep or what, but fuck, that was hot.” I stretched. “And now I’m fucking talking to myself—again.” I checked the other videos, and we seemed to settle into an annual routine—Jenny giving me handjobs while I filmed her, and Terri giving me blowjobs. I was tempted to add entries for sex, but I startled as I heard my wife enter from the garage into the kitchen. She was early—again.

I closed the porn folders and got up, not even concerning myself that I was naked from the waist down. I met her in the living room as she was walking out of the kitchen, looking down at her phone.

“Hey.” I said, as she continued to type away at her phone.

“Sorry,” she muttered, not looking up, “the meeting was on, then off, but now everyone is texting about next week. We should have just held it, but there weren’t enough people there to—oh.” She glanced up, then did a double-take. “Is this your thing now?” She asked, looking at me. “Why are you naked—again?” Multiple options filled my vision, and I chose what I thought was bold.

“I was just jerking off.” I said. It was what option 3 offered. “I pretty much do it every day after work.”

“I, um…every day?” She asked. “Are you serious?” I shrugged. “Am I…um, am I not giving you enough?”

“Can you seriously ask that after last night?” But she blushed at my question. “I like sex, but I also like to do it myself every once in a while. Sometimes it’s porn, sometimes it’s the pictures you send me.” I let that sink in.

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed. I mean, you send them to me at least once a month. Do you think I ignore them?”

“Well, I mean, we usually have *sex* the same week I send them so, I don’t know? I figure it keeps things spicy. I never really thought of it as, um, masturbation material.”

“Well, I do. I use it like that sometimes, even on days where I *do* fuck you.”

“Henry!” She blushed.

“I can’t say I fuck my wife?” I said.

“You don’t normally talk like this.”

“Take off your clothes, Karen.” I said, moving toward her.

“I’m tired Henry. It was a rough commute—and didn’t you just jerk off?” She glanced down at my flaccid penis. I just stared at her, waiting. “Fine.” She said, taking off her suit jacket and then stepping out of her heels. “Is this some sort of male empowerment thing?” She said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I’m still unclear if I like it.” She unzipped her pants and stepped out of them. Her blouse partly covered her waist, but I could see she was wearing a thong. I stepped forward and pulled off her panties, letting them fall to her ankles. I slid a hand through her bush, teasing her a bit until I felt her warm up, get a little wet. “Henry…I just don’t—.”

“You’re not naked yet.” She sighed but took off her blouse, followed by undoing her bra. I teased her nipples, though they were already hard. I led her to the couch, laying her down, and started licking at her nipples, teasing her between her legs, working her clit until she was very wet. “Now you take over.” I said, easing off.

“What?” She asked, but I moved her hand to her pussy.

“Make yourself come. I want to watch.” I added. “I want to video it.”

“Henry…” She protested, though she was already touching herself.

“Don’t make a show of it. Close your eyes. Use your imagination, whatever. Pretend I’m not here, if that helps.” She glanced in my direction as I got up, but did as I asked. She started working herself between her legs, and I watched, taking it in with my phone as well, though that really wasn’t the point. I got hard watching her masturbate, but I let her finish without interrupting. She came quickly and surprisingly loud, though the house had been quiet otherwise.

*Perk Unlocked: She Shot First II. Your careful attention will aid you in bringing partners to climax. This skill can grow with experience. +1 XP. Level 1, 12 XP.*

“Well then.” I said.

“Well…what?” Karen asked, opening her eyes seeing me. “Was that okay? I…I’m not even sure what I’m asking.”

“I don’t need to ask you that.” I said. “Come here.” She got off the couch, walking over to me and I embraced her, kissing her deeply. “You should do that more often—make yourself come. It’s why I seem so relaxed.” I smirked.

“I’m not sure that’s *entirely* the reason as of late.” She smiled. “But…I mean, maybe I will.” She thought about it a moment longer.

“At least once a week…maybe more. You should be enjoying your body, you know.” I said, and she blushed a little looking at her nudity.

“Okay…I will, actually, sure. Self care, right?”

*Perk Unlocked: How Do You Get to Carnegie Hall? You’ve unlocked a secondary skill of These Aren’t the Droids. You can now attempt to convince NPCs to engage in routines or habits. This skill can grow with experience. +1 XP. Level 1, 13 XP.*

“Do you want some help with this?” She asked, reaching down to my erection that was pressing against her belly. I smiled in response, letting her make up her own mind, and she slid down my body, going to her knees, and started blowing me. I wouldn’t have minded fucking her right then, but she probably wouldn’t have been able to respond as easily having just come herself. I tried not focus on the text files on my computer. You’d think a blowjob would make that easy, but I kept going back to adjusting Karen’s parameters, making her more sexually responsive, easier to get aroused. I could probably replicate many of the statistics associated with and apply them to her..to…uh…NPCs? It was weird to think of people like that. If I had done that already, I could be fucking her, she’d be so wet, coming and—ah, there it was. I blew my load into her mouth, and unlike Tabitha, she was happy to take it, always had been.

“That was fantastic.” I said, and helped her off the floor.

“I thought I lost you there for a minute.” She said.

“I was caught up in my thoughts. Sorry. Work stuff, I guess.” I kissed her. “Really, that was a bonus for me, and I clearly enjoyed it, but I really did just jerk off before you got home.” It seems silly, but I expected her to be more upset about that. Two week ago, she probably would have gotten upset and not even known why. Not that she didn’t probably assume I jerked off, just maybe not so regularly? I don’t know. It felt both weird and kind of awesome to be so honest with her.

—-

**End Part 4**

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/llu6t0/easy_mode_part_4_mfmfmastmdmcexhvoyoralscifi