The Device: Media Bias

"Oh fuck!" he gasped out.

"Aw you like that, baby?" He tried to squeeze his legs around me, but I pushed them aside. "Maybe if you ask nice, I'll do it again."

"W-what?" there was a coyness to his grin now. Confused but enjoying it.

"You heard me. I'm going to make you beg. I'm going to make you my bitch for once, Kyle."

He laughed. I drove my dick deep inside him, angling it up at the sweet spot of nerves I had found earlier in my own explorations. I was going to wipe that stupid smug grin right off his face.

"Ooh shit!" his eyes went wide, then became half lidded as the pleasure hit him like a tidal wave. I did it again, pounding into him with a rhythm of my own. Kyle had been impatient, concerned only with his own pleasure, but I... I knew how to treat a lady. I knew where to aim.

"Fuck!" he grunted. "Fuck!" I wasn't giving him time to recover, I was keeping him on edge as I racked his body with shuddering bouts of rapture. He tried to buck out a rhythm of his own, but I thwarted his every attempt. He needed to understand that the only pleasure he was going to get was that which I gave him.

"Huh? you like that you little bitch? You like it when I make you my fucking slut? How does it feel, bitch? How does it feel to be the one getting fucked for once?"

Kyle laughed again. I slammed my hips into him roughly. The loss of breath sent him gasping. There was a growing impatience in my pace, a rapid rise of intensity and need. I was swiftly approaching a cliff and I had no intention of slowing down.

"You love my big huge dick fucking that sloppy slutty pussy of yours, don't you, Kyle? You love being my girly little bitch? You love the way I fill you up?"

Of course he did. This time he wasn't laughing.

My body tensed up, I could feel something deep and primal surging through me as my rhythm hit a uncontrollable frenzy. Of fuck. Shit. No, not yet! I'd just begun! But I could do nothing to stop myself. All I knew was need and a sharp hot blast of climactic sensation like my brain shorting out.

I bottomed out in Kyle, burying myself as deep in him as a person could go. Blast after blast of hot dripping passion surged through me, the sheer length of my colossal cock carrying it right to his needy hungry womb.

He grinned. Fuck.

I fell onto him as the orgasm subsided to leave a flood of dizzy lethargy and embarrassment in its wake.

"Wow, Kait," he patted my head. I could feel cum oozing inside his cunt around my softening cock. "I don't think I've ever seen you cum so fast."

I looked over at the clock. Less than two minutes. Fuck. I buried my head in his faux-bosom in shame. Why'd he have to be so fucking sexy?

"It's okay baby, it happens to a lot of girls."

No. No, it was not okay. I wasn't about to let this cocky ass win.

I rolled over and grabbed the device and my phone from the bedside table. I pulled up a page of some hunky celebrities and swapped my dick with one of theirs.

I cooed in surprise as I wrapped my hands around the result. It was an entirely different shape - curved and slender but no less long. Most importantly it was hard and ready to go. It felt so powerful. An all-star cock if ever there was one.

"Alright, bitch." I grinned. "Time for round two."

"Huh?"

He squealed in delight as I rolled back on top of him, thrusting home deep.

We fucked for hours. I didn't have to hold back. I didn't have to dance around an edge. I could fuck and fuck and cum and then swap out for a fresh cock.

Kyle screamed out as I pushed him over the edge again and again. Each cock bigger and more virile than the last, each dick harder and hornier and wielded with ever greater skill.

Who ever said guys can't have multiple orgasms?

I sent him spiraling towards the frothing shores at the edge of climax, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head, his whole world a long undulating cry of pleasure. He was close, so close.

"You fucking like that?" I cried.

"Yes! Oh god yes!" he relented! "Make me cum baby, make me cum!"

"What are you?" I yelled, panting from the exertion, gasping from my own need.

"Please, baby!"

"What are you!?"

"I'm your bitch! Your slut! Your cumguzzling whore! I can't live without your perfect cock inside me. Please, just give it to me!"

"That's - ah - fucking right!"

With one final push I sent us both spiraling over the edge, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head as seed poured out of my fat balls like a firehose.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fu~ck!!!" The last one started high and held as a scream, tapering off as the energy drained from him.

"What are you?" I whispered.

"I-I'm your bitch, baby." he blushed.

"Damn straight." I kissed him tenderly on the lips then fell upon his smooth hairless chest. His falsies had disappeared along with his top at some point, though somehow his skirt remained. An orgy's worth of cum surged around my massive log as it started to soften, still buried in his warm tight depths.

"I don't know what's gotten into you," he grinned, "but I should let you do all the work more often."

I glared at him. I had almost forgotten what an ass he was. It was okay - I could fix that.

I made a schlorping sound as I pulled out of him. He grunted at the sudden discomfort.

I fondled my big empty balls with both hands. The length of the horse dick I'd ended up with seemed to have lost some of its charm now that I was half-hard. Pungent pearly seed dripped down every inch of it, further soaking the ill-prepared sheets.

"Holy shit," he gasped. "look at all that cum. I'm gonna get pregnant just looking at that thing! You must have been really backed up. Baby that was amazing."

Oh my god. I fanned at my face with one hand as I tried to shake my fat dripping cock clean. I never knew sex could be so good. No wonder men were such dicks about it. I'd definitely have to try that again sometime.

I smiled warmly down at him. His eyes were half-closed in a daze, rapidly losing the fight against post coital somnolence. Typical.

Something told me that from now on we'd be having a lot more sex. If he begged - I gave my long hard shaft a few good strokes - I'd let the little slut have it.

For now - fun as it had been - it was time to turn back. I pointed the device and fired.

I immediately regretted it. I doubled over in discomfort. I was so bloated from the hot cum sloshing within me that I felt like I was going to burst. It poured out of my aching well-stretched pussy and down my leg as I tried to stand.

Jesus. All these years, I had been yelling at Kyle for going too hard and here I had just run a fucking train on myself with all the biggest cocks I could get my crotch on. I'd be bow-legged for weeks.

Maybe... maybe I'd just stick with the horse cock for now.

In a rare fit of mercy, I gave Kyle his dick back too. I think he'd earned it - He had been a half-decent lay. Chris Hemsworth would just have to keep my sloppy pussy for now.

I stumbled back to my room, my heavy horseballs swinging pendulously between my legs.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I was a complete mess. My new fashionable clothes were in tatters and I was covered in cum. How the hell had I gotten so much of it in my hair? I looked like a whore after a bachelor party. It was just... gross.

I pulled out another one of my fashion magazines and fired. There, now some celebrity could wear the walk of shame look while I was fresh and ready to go.

Legs spread wide to accommodate my fat cock, I sat down at my computer and looked down at the device, still hot in my hand. It was as though I was seeing it for the first time. I just couldn't get the new Kyle out of my head. Seeing my roommate changed like that, it had confirmed one thing: these swaps... they affected people. They influenced whole lives. This was a world where, inexplicably, Arnold Schwarzenegger was a big-titted bikini bimbo and guys had idolized him as this perfect beacon of masculinity all the same.

I stopped dead in my tracks as the ramifications of that hit home. How many lives had I just turned on their head? How many men had I warped to the point of complete unrecognizability? Kyle was probably just the start. Would I be able to change things back?

Did I even want to?

No. No I didn't.

I froze. Was I really even considering this?

I had an ability few people could even dream of. I may not have known who had made the device or how it worked, but I knew it had given me the ability to leave a mark on the world - to change society at large for the better. Let's face it, the world sucked. Now I had the opportunity to make a better one. I couldn't just throw that away. Turn back now? I was just getting started.

Why stop at just Arnold and Bond? Why stop at clothes and behavior? Why be so physical? With this device I could do anything.

Though I'd only just finished a marathon bout of sex, I could feel my pulse quicken at the thought. My nipples grew stiff and my dick stirred. Something within me had tasted blood.

Kyle had been a good start. Having him dressing and moving like that had been one thing, but I wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face once and for all. I wanted it to go deeper. I wanted to change the way he behaved, the way all men behaved.

Kyle and my boss were just symptoms of a greater disease. This whole stupid thing with the promotion had put it all in perspective. This bullshit world was the problem. And I could fix it. I was going to grasp masculinity by the root and pull.

I made a list - a plan.

I pulled up as many of the manliest action movies as I could think of. Predator, Fight Club and Rocky just to start. I gave the leads the most vivacious, hypersexual feminine bodies I could find. Somewhere in the background of my computer, Sylvester Stallone's former body was getting triple teamed by BBC, but I didn't care, what I cared about was the way his naked tits jiggled as he climbed the stairs of the Philadelphia museum of art.

It wasn't enough.

I swapped the way they moved and the clothes they wore. I put Captain America in 6" stiletto heels. I wasn't happy just putting them in women's clothes - I wanted them dressed like the sluts they were. They would be the flagships for my new world.

My cock began to stiffen. It still wasn't enough.

Despite their new bodies, the themes and messages being conveyed were still the same. The violence and the entitlement and the bullshit power games remained. I needed to go deeper. I wanted these things changed utterly. I wanted to scorch the earth

I dug up the girliest movies I could find. Legally blonde, Sixteen Candles, and Mean Girls just to name the most obvious. I had seen more rom-coms than I'd ever care to admit. I started swapping plots. Explosions of fire gave way to flowers. Action gave way to romance. Indiana Jones became Bridget Jones.

As hot as it was, I still wasn't satisfied.

What would this even do? Get men more interested in romance? Hardly the game changer I was looking for.

I wanted a world of weak boys swooning over strong women. I wanted submissive guys in cute skirts begging to be fucked while strong confident women got shit done, and I wasn't going to stop until I got it.

My dick was rock hard now. Its intimidating length nestled snugly between my boobs as musky precum drooled out and soaked through my top. I gave it a few long strokes as I tried to reposition it, but there was no helping it - the only way I could get the damn thing comfortable was to squeeze it between my soft tits.

I turned my attention back to my computer. I needed to start taking more direct measures.

Briefly - briefly - I considered swapping the entire action genre with fem-dom porn, but honestly? That seemed too easy. I settled for swapping it to be the number one search on the internet instead.

If I wanted results I was going to have to reach out and make them happen. I started swapping the roles of the men and women within the narratives. Wherever there was a badass rebellious guy sweeping a submissive damsel off her feet it was now the opposite.

And why stop at action movies? Kung fu movies, spy flicks, the entire superhero genre - they were all part of the problem. I turned the Avengers into Disney princesses.

I stroked my long fleshy shaft with one hand, struggling to extinguish the heat of arousal growing between my legs, but it was like trying to put out a fire with gasoline.

I amped up the sex. Scenes of hardcore pornography became a staple of contemporary cinema. I don't think I left a single popular film that didn't have guys moaning for more as strong women pegged their needy, slutty behinds.

50 Shades of Grey took on a whole new appeal.

I went back further. James Dean, Steve McQueen, Elvis Presley. I tore up the very foundations of masculine cool. I swapped the life of Marlon Brando with that of Marilyn Monroe.

In a fit of particular brilliance, I warped the entire cowboy genre. It was now about busty, twinky cowboys riding cowgirls cowgirl-style.

With each major change there were more and more side effects. News reports and social media comments warped and swayed with each press of the button. A new world was growing up around me.

It was rough and it was loose and I had no idea where it was going to end, but if I'd wanted precision, I'd be swapping history textbooks. No, I wanted to see the world do its dirty work for me. I wanted to see this new world form around me in jagged chunks, strange around the edges but crackling with erotic potential. A world where I got what I wanted. A world where men had to put up with me staring at their tits for once.

I could have made myself queen, but no, I wanted nothing so crass, nothing so simple. What I wanted was noble and right: hot boys in skirts.

My body shook as I pushed myself over the edge of orgasm. I bit my lip and kept going.

I expanded my criteria. I moved on to other media, other works of art. The smiling stepford husband? Father knew best no longer. The poster boy soldier holding a gun? He now held a very different phallic symbol. American Gothic with tits.

With the internet as my guide I swapped out symbols, genres, movements, whole swaths of culture. All of it now propagating a world where masculinity meant being a demure submissive with slutty tits swooning over any girl with a fast car and a big strapon.

I swapped boxers for cock cages and buttplugs for briefs. Gi Joe and Barbie. Wherever I could find it, blue became pink.

It was a full-on assault on masculinity.

I came again.

It wasn't enough. I didn't just want to change north america, I wanted to change the world.

How far back could I go? I pushed at the limits of the devices power. Hundreds of years? I gave the Vitruvian man tits. Thousands? I swapped my horse cock onto the Aphrodite of Knidos. I turned Hercules into a slutty anime trap.

I looked at my list. I had come so far.

I could smell the smoke coming from the device. It was painful to the touch, but it was worth it. I was so close. The world I'd envisioned - and my own climax - moments from realization.

Before me lay the most ancient of cave art - the earliest recorded media, ready to swap with a doodle of my own design of men serving women.

I worked my hyper-sensitive pussy faster, harder. Climax washing over me as I fired.

But it was too much.

The last thing I remember was the explosion. A wave of force and noise and heat like the spring of reality unwinding, blasting me against the wall. Sharp shards of white-hot metal casing dug into my skin.

I cried out. Through my agony I could see what had to be the core of the device floating hungrily in the air, the world warping and changing at bizarre cross-purposes as malleability spread like a fire around it.

It turned to look at me and I was no more.

Darkness.

I fell forever through darkness.

Had I died? No. That would imply I'd ever really existed in the first place.

I had never been. I never would be.

There was nothing save this eternal moment. The past? The future? They had simply been pleasant dreams. There was only the darkness and the great eternal now.

Indistinct voices echoing around me. Close enough to ring in my ears yet an infinity away. I listened but I did not hear.

"Retrieval team Kilo. We've found the woman who ran off with the new model. Tagging location now. She's in bad shape. Looks like the prototype escaped. You want us to erase her memory and start trying to put this place back together?"

"Negative Kilo." the second voice was faint and distant. "This whole timeline's a complete mess. We're pulling out as soon as we can. Get the user fixed up and tagged and we'll keep her and it under observation, but we don't have the manpower right now to be nudging things back on course. She's made her bed, let's let her lie in it."

"What, really? Copy that. Damn shame. She's in pretty bad shape. I might have to pull locally to get her functioning again. You know we really aught to be installing safeties on these things. How many does this make now?"

"Still not enough for you to win the pool. Come on home Frank, we've got a fresh pot brewing. The good stuff."

"Ooh. Copy that. Oscar Mike. Kilo out."

From across the void I could feel something calling out to me. Something familiar. Something irresistible.

The phone rang.

My blissful nonexistence ended. I woke into a world of pain.

I jolted out of my bed, screaming. Memories of torn flesh and broken bones replayed in my mind. I grabbed at my twisted limbs in deft shock. In my half-conscious state I couldn't even tell what I was looking at.

There... there had been an explosion. I ran hands along my skin, searching desperately for the wounds I so clearly, so vividly, remembered.

Nothing.

My head was pounding. I felt like I'd been hit by a truck, but I was uninjured.

The room around me was fine too. No sign of an explosion, no sign of any damage, and no sign of any magic device. I fell back on my bed. Everything seemed smaller than I remembered.

No, I looked down and flexed my hands. I was bigger. I was taller, stronger and... yes - somehow, deep below the pain - hornier than I'd ever been in my life. Some small part of me couldn't help but feel like I had always been like this. Like this was how I belonged. What the hell had happened?

The phone rang again. I answered it more on instinct than anything else.

"Hello?"

"You're in deep shit Kaitlin." the woman's voice was low and powerful. "I don't know what the hell you were thinking, making decisions like that with your cunt and not your goddamn brain. I thought better of you, despite your long and sordid history. I thought you'd finally learned your lesson. But this time you've gone too fucking far."

"Huh? Who is this?"

"Don't play dumb with me, it's Kimberly Michaels."

I snapped to attention.

"You have twenty seconds to explain to me why I shouldn't fire your ass right here and now. Do you have any idea how bad this looks for the company?"

"What?"

"I trusted you to make the right decision on this internal hire and you go and promote this... this bimbo slut? Half the damn company is complaining to HR. I'm suspending you until further notice and you better damn well believe there's going to be an investigation. Don't expect to still have your job when this is all over!"

"You can't do that!"

"I can! This is the third goddamn time I've had to handle serious complaints about you. I told you last time that if it didn't end there'd be action. I don't make idle threats. Look-" a sympathetic sigh broke through her veneer of professional fury. "I know its tempting to hire eye candy to keep around for a quick fuck - trust me we all appreciate having a sweet piece of ass like him around - but this isn't the 1950s. They have to be at least capable of doing the job and not just some ridiculous bimbo joe fuck doll. That's what administrative assistants are for."