Author: Virtual Scott
Title: Instant-On
Part: 3
Summary: A soccer mom is sucked into a world of uncontrollable desire and
shameful degradation. Even if she manages to win some measure of freedom
for herself and her family, will what remains be recognizable?
Keywords: MF mc Mf Mm nc inc reluc scat ws bd anal

Security

It was Jose's turn to be quiet and withdrawn the next morning, and the
kids gave me weird looks. Olivia, at least, looked like she was
suppressing a smile, but it faded the more she studied her father. I
didn't have time to worry about it because I'd received another card in
the mail, for that afternoon.

To my surprise, the address was an office building instead of a motel or
residence. I took the elevator up to the specified suite, where a
well-dressed receptionist told me I was expected and ushered me into a
lavish office. It was very strange, since I hadn't even had a chance to
give her my name.

"Well, Tanya, I'm pleased to meet you," said the respectable-looking
businessman behind the desk. He stood and offered a hand, which I
pointedly refused; there was no cologne clouding my thoughts. "Hmm, still
bearing a grudge, are we?"

"You can call me Ms. Peralta, Mr.?" I retorted. With a tangible focus for
it in front of me, all the repressed anger I'd been burying away was
bubbling up into a groundswell of rage. If I'd had a gun, he would already
have been dead.

"I can call you slut, I think," he calmly told me, and picked up a small
atomizer. With a single squeeze, he filled the air between us with a cloud
of the cologne I knew and craved. It was shockingly strong, which was
saying a lot, and I completely lost track of the next few minutes.

When I regained awareness of my surroundings, the color of the atomizer in
his hand had changed, and my viewpoint had shifted to a spot on my knees.
My mouth tasted of gluey semen and his saliva-slicked cock wilted slowly
in front of me.

"I guess I will call you *my* slut, then," he said jovially, and I had a
sense of having begged him to let me be his slut. I hung my head in
misery, and thought that if I'd had that gun, I would have used it on
myself.

"Now, now, don't be so glum," my de facto master continued. "You've proven
to be a very popular acquisition, and I'm confident you have a long
lifetime of fucking ahead of you." I felt a humiliating twinge of
excitement at the thought. "Unfortunately, Mr. Campbell was not as
discreet in his attentions as we had anticipated, and it would be a
problem if your husband tumbled to your -- situation. Additionally, your
daughter appears to be annoyingly inquisitive."

"Leave my family out of this, you monster!" His hand rose faster than my
body and I lost track of time again.

This time I found myself seated in a chair, wrists cuffed to the armrests,
panting as if I'd run a long race and with a soaking crotch.

"These outbursts tire me," my host told me, standing safely outside of
kicking range. "We have no more desire to injure them than we do you. I
think, with sufficient persuasion, we can offer them the same fulfilling
life you now enjoy."

I don't know how long it took to break me. It couldn't have been days, but
for my own peace of mind I hoped it had been at least hours. I'd never
known desire and pleasure could be used to torture a person, but this man
knew it, and he shared his knowledge with me.

A carefully measured spritz of cologne had me struggling against my bonds,
moaning for release and the satisfaction of cock, but receiving nothing,
unable even to touch myself. My tormentor explained what he needed me to
do; how simple it was, how painless; how nobody would be hurt. Of course,
in that state, I agreed eagerly to every slightest request. I would have
fucked my father on my mother's grave if he'd asked it, and given me a
little spunk to seal the deal.

Then he used the other atomizer, instantly dissipating the cologne and my
haze of arousal, and repeated the request. The first few times, I told him
to go to Hell. We started over, pausing a little longer each time to let
me writhe in arousal.

Eventually, worn out, I agreed. That was when he sprayed me again, and
asked my cumslut alter ego if I'd been lying. For just a taste of his
magnificent organ, I fell all over myself to tell him how I'd planned to
play along only until I could run to the police. That earned me another
spritz, and a wave of helpless desire so strong I felt my heart might
burst.

He left me alone for a while, tearing uselessly at the padded cuffs in a
vain attempt to touch myself or do anything that might diminish the
desperate craving for sex and submission that wracked my body. Then we
started again.

An eternity later, I felt no remorse at the horrible things I'd promised
to do to my family. There was only a vague sense of satisfaction as I
cleaned his ejaculate from my face and swallowed the last of his spunk.

"Why '110'?" I asked, looking at the pills I was transferring, among other
things, to my purse.

He looked where I was pointing, and laughed. "110? No, it's 'I/O' -- eye
slash oh. It stands for 'instant on', as I'm sure you understand now."

I did, indeed.



"We need to talk," Jose told me when I arrived home, late for dinner.

I smiled wanly. "I know, Honey. Tomorrow? I'd like to leave my troubles
aside tonight." I gave him a light kiss.

"Sure," he smiled back. "I left a plate in the oven."

The pair of us watched a romantic comedy we hadn't seen yet on
pay-per-view, and spooned together underneath the sheet that was all we
needed that time of year. Jose's breathing slowed and deepened, but I lay
awake until I heard the front door open and close, and Alex's footsteps
paced down the hallway. Olivia had gone to a concert with a friend and
wouldn't be home until morning.

I waited a little longer before carefully extricating myself from the bed
and creeping down the hallway. There was no light showing beneath Alex's
door, and it was quiet on the other side, so I slowly eased it open.
Without the benefit of a ceiling fan, he was sprawled atop the bed, naked,
just as he'd always done since he was a little boy.

He hadn't noticed the innocuous ties I'd concealed at the corners of the
bed. I carefully worked them up into position and gently wrapped his
wrists and ankles, taking care not to pull them tight too soon. Alex woke
when I shoved the ball gag in his mouth, but the few inches of freedom I'd
left him weren't sufficient for him to remove it, and a moment later I'd
pulled them tight, leaving him splayed helplessly face down.

His grunts and muffled pleas to be released tore at my heart, but they
couldn't be heard beyond the bedroom and I'd already steeled myself to
what needed to be done. I knelt between his jerking legs and parted his
cheeks, staring at his clenched asshole.

I inhaled his funky scent, pleased he hadn't showered; it made my job
easier. I bent closer and probed at his rosebud with my tongue, trying to
get the tip inside. Alex started bucking, nearly dislodging me, but a firm
grip on his balls quieted him again.

He eventually loosened, and I found the sharp taste of his bowels on my
tongue. I wasn't trying to clean him, and stopped often to spit onto his
hole before resuming work. Alex jerked slightly when I worked a finger
into him, probing inside to retrieve whatever flecks of debris I could,
but continued to concentrate on my worship of his ass. Even his grudging
erection, trapped between him and the sheet, didn't distract me.

I finally decided I'd done enough when the entire crack of his ass shone
in the indirect moonlight. The smell of it was brutally primal, which I
knew well because the same rank mixture coated my face. I left my son
struggling in his bonds and padded back to the master bedroom.

After taking a look at Jose's sleeping form, I crept into the bathroom to
squirt some lubricating gel into my dry vagina, and shook a pair of I/Os
into my hand. I filled a cup with water and headed for the bed.

I took a breath and gently shook Jose awake. "Hey, lover," I told him,
still sitting up, "I need to get laid. How about a little V?" We'd done
recreational Viagra before, and I was gambling that he wasn't so ticked
off with me he'd refuse, and that he remained sleepy enough not to catch
the shape of the pills. I lucked out and he tossed the pills back with
barely any hesitation. He really was a good husband.

Jose slid himself easily into me, thanks to the lubricant. "Ew! God,
Tanya, what do you have on your face?" he exclaimed when he tried to kiss
me.

"Just fuck me," I told him, and kept massaging his cock with my pussy. The
placebo effect is a funny thing, and Jose kept his "Viagra" erection even
while I kept rubbing the residue from his son's ass off my face and onto
his. I even worked a finger into his ass and stroked his prostate, milking
every bit of his load into my cunt. I could have been washing dishes for
all the pleasure it brought me; he didn't have the right cologne.

Predictably, he fell asleep within five minutes of orgasming. Once again,
I slid out of Jose's grasp, taking care not to lose a single drop of the
precious load inside me. I quickly shimmied into a pair of my older, more
substantial, panties, and squatted beside the bed. I strained with all my
might, forcing my husband's sperm out of my unwelcoming body and into the
crotch of my underwear.

I walked into the bathroom and used a damp washcloth to wipe the stench
off my face. After palming another pair of I/Os, I made my way back down
the hall to Alex's room.

He looked up at me hopefully when I loosened the gag, but I pulled it
aside only long enough to force the pills into his mouth before tightening
it again. "Mmmm!" he choked, eyes filled with betrayal. I didn't have to
look at them long, as I stepped out of my panties and pulled them over his
head, positioning the soaked gusset over his nose.

I knew the pills tasted awful, but it didn't really matter if Alex
swallowed them or let them dissolve in his mouth. I'd been assured,
although I was still somewhat dubious, that humans were more
discriminating than we gave ourselves credit for; even subtle distinctions
we couldn't consciously detect would thwart the keying process catalyzed
by the pills.

My shoulders slumped, not so much in relief as in the weight of a
potentially complicated task nearly completed being removed from me. I
stroked Alex's back tenderly, and remembered to set the bottle of
lubricant on the bed next to him. He was still my son.

After what seemed like a very long 15 minutes, I pulled the underwear off
Alex's head. He looked a little dazed and I couldn't blame him, poor boy.
Still, it seemed safest not to remove the gag just yet.

I walked back down the hall one more time and threw my undies in the
clothes hamper. I shook Jose awake. "Honey, wake up! I think there's
something wrong with Alex!

Jose looked at me blearily, sighed, and slowly sat up. "What is it, Tanya?"

"I don't know. I really think you need to look at him."

With an even heavier sigh, my husband lifted himself out of bed and
stumped down the hallway; I followed behind.

"What the fuck?!" Jose stared at Alex's wriggling body in the sudden
light. I'd never seen myself make the transition, but I could see the
instant when Jose got close enough and his cock suddenly was rigidly
erect. "Oh, *fuck* that ass looks good," he moaned.

Actually, it smelled good. Good enough that no calculation about the
propriety of sodomizing his son was going to stop Jose from doing it. I
was pleased for Alex when I saw Jose squirt a little lube on himself
first, but really it was like watching a boring cartoon.

I hung around to watch, listening to Jose's lustful grunting easily
overwhelm Alex's muffled screams. I felt tired and wanted to sleep, but I
didn't know everything was really okay yet. I'm sure it was sooner than it
felt, but finally Jose jerked a few times and pulled himself free of
Alex's gaping anus.

He walked around the bed, unfastening the ties, which I wasn't sure was a
good idea. Alex looked like he was going to bolt past me for the door, but
then he was erect too and fighting to remove the gag so he could feast on
the cum-slicked hard-on trembling in front of him.

I left them to it. With the pair of them drawn to each other, they'd be
wallowing in their orgy for hours, or maybe days. My master had talked
about gay sex videos; I didn't care. It had been a long night and Olivia
would be home in the morning.



When she walked in the door, I was sitting at the kitchen table nursing a
cup of coffee. "Hi, Sweetie, how was your concert?"

"Nasty!" Olivia reported, but her expression suggested it was a good
thing. "God, I'm hungry. Where is everybody?"

"Upstairs, sleeping," I sighed. "I think both of them came down with
something last night. If you want to go change, I'll whip up some eggs and
you can eat before we go, okay?"

"Sure thing! You're the greatest, Mom!"

I really *did* try to look out for my daughter, I reflected, scrambling a
few eggs. Even if she didn't realize it. I carried the plate over and set
it on the table, along with a toasted bagel and a big glass of orange
juice.

"Eat up," I told Olivia after she sat down, and gave her a big hug before
returning to my coffee.

"Is that a new perfume?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Do you like it?"

"It's okay," she replied doubtfully, inhaling her breakfast with the
casual disregard of a teenager.

"Well, I don't think I'll be wearing it again," I told her. I'd been
worried she might taste the ground-up pills in the orange juice, but it
went right down without a hitch. The perfume had come in a tiny
sample-sized container, and I'd used it all, just as ordered. Personally,
I'd never go near it again if I had any choice in the matter.

We drove down to her game, with the windows up and the A/C on recirculate,
and I watched Olivia out of the corner of my eye. Nothing seemed out of
place, but then, it wouldn't -- this was only the first exposure.

I waited for the game to start, and nearly ran back to the car, steering
well clear of anybody who seemed even to be looking in my direction. I
headed straight home with the windows down and the vents blasting, and
proceeded to use every kind of deodorant and air freshener we had on the
car. All my clothing went into the washer, with a double shot of detergent
and chlorine bleach -- fabric care instructions be damned.

With everything else taken care of, I went to the bathroom and took a long
hot shower, my second of the day, scrubbing every inch of myself until my
skin felt raw. I heard bumping from Alex's room while I was toweling
myself dry, and walked down the hall to look in on the boys.

It stank like a public restroom; I didn't know how Olivia had missed it.
Jose sat on the bed, heavy-lidded eyes fluttering, as he held a small
piece of something to his dirty face and licked at it. There was no
indication he even noticed I was there. Alex faced away from me, his head
bobbing up and down in his father's crotch, and his gaping sphincter
looked like you could drive a truck through it. I could see his erection,
a smaller version of Jose's, pointing down between his legs and leaking
onto the mess covering the floor.

I got dressed and stopped back to push energy drinks and power bars into
their unresisting hands before hopping into the car and driving back to
the game. They weren't going to do that to my daughter, oh no. My timing
was nearly perfect and I made it to the sidelines just as the game went
into extra time. A few minutes later, we were jumping up and down as
Olivia's team pulled off a 2-1 upset over the defending league champions.

Olivia and I found each other and hugged. "You go, girl!"

"I'm glad you were here to see it," Olivia answered, beaming from ear to
ear. "But let's get out of here, okay? I stink like a pig." She high-fived
several teammates as we worked our way towards the parking lot.

I smelled the perfume before I saw the panel van. It looked like the same
guy, but we studiously ignored each other. His surprise was almost comical
as Olivia ignored him too and continued to recount the highlights of her
team's victory. I tensed as I heard the footsteps behind us, and then he
was in front of us.

"You played a great game," he told Olivia, getting right in her face and
grabbing her hand to shake it. "I just wanted to congratulate you on your
fine play." With the worst cold of my life I could have smelled the
perfume that seemed to come off him in waves.

"Um, thanks," Olivia replied, a little put off by this weirdo with the
intense look but not really concerned. She was in public with her mother
beside her, after all. She got her hand free on the second try and we
continued on our way. Only I saw the venomous look the guy gave us before
he turned back to his van, pulling out a cell phone.

"Where are we going?" asked Olivia a few minutes later.

"We have a quick errand to run before we go home," I explained tersely,
"and then we need to have a little talk."

Her face showed a little uncertainty and fear. "Is this about you and Dad?
Are you getting a divorce?"

"No, Honey, it's not that." I held up a hand briefly to forestall any
other questions. "It's a little complicated. I promise I'll explain; just
be patient." I turned into the parking lot in front of the nondescript
office building I'd visited before.

Poor Olivia looked completely befuddled, but as I'd thought, a
receptionist was on duty and told us we were expected. For a change, I was
here of my own volition and without fear. I led my daughter into the
office and confidently studied the man on the other side of the desk.

"Tanya, Olivia; how nice to see you," he greeted us in tones of
exquisitely understated annoyance. "Please, be seated."

I took one of the chairs and crossed my legs, uncaring of whether he could
see up my short skirt or not. There were three atomizers lined up on the
desk today, but I cut right to the heart of the matter. "I did everything
I promised," I told him flatly. "You're not taking my daughter away from
me."

His hand hovered near the atomizer I was almost sure contained cologne,
but moved away after he'd studied my face for a moment. "I see."

Olivia looked like she desperately wanted to speak up, but she was clever
enough to realize she was in way over her head, and stayed silent.

The door behind us burst open; my nose told me without turning it was the
man from the parking lot. "Mr. --" he gasped, before a raised hand
silenced him. After it rotated and crooked a finger, he advanced to stand
beside us.

The businessman studied us a moment longer, and then picked up the new
atomizer and squeezed it. It matched the scent already filling the office.
"Just to be sure," he explained, sounding almost apologetic. "Well, Tanya,
if you did everything you promised, what *else* did you do?" All three of
them looked at me with varying degrees of curiosity and confusion.

"I peed in it," I told him defiantly.

There was a moment of frozen silence, and then he began clapping slowly
and laughed. "Oh, bravo, Tanya, bravo! I must say we appear to have
seriously underestimated you." He leaned back and steepled his fingers
under his chin, lost momentarily in thought.

"Mom!" Olivia whispered urgently in my ear, but the sudden presence of a
hand on her shoulder made her freeze.

"Yes, very clever," he resumed talking, drawing everybody's attention back
to the desk. "Impossible to duplicate, infeasible to store, and in fact
only one half of a binary compound neither of us possesses in its
entirety."

I'd never have used those words, but they seemed to mirror the desperate
thoughts that had raced through my head that morning.

"Have you considered the cost to Olivia? She's so young, so precious. An
entire *lifetime* without sex? No passion, no arousal? Never an orgasm
beneath the touch of her lover?"

Olivia released another strangled gasp. "Mom! What's he talking about?!"

"There's more to life than sex," I said bitterly, hoping it was true.

"Let us hope, for the sake of my investors, you are incorrect," he
riposted. "As matters stand, however, we are getting ahead of ourselves."
A finger pointed at the man standing beside Olivia. "Pee on him."

"Never!" I cried, at the same time the lackey objected more colorfully,
"No fuckin' way!"

Those soulless grey eyes turned away from me. "Do we have problem, Mr.
Jones? Surely it's a minor enough inconvenience in return for the
opportunity to sample the pleasures of this delightful girl?"

"Yes, sir, I mean no, sir. No problem."

Olivia tore herself out of his grip. "Mom, I'm really scared, let's get
out of here!" She tugged on my arm, but I was already braced for the
contest of wills I realized was coming.

"I will not do it," I told him from the bottom of my heart, buttressed by
my love for my daughter.

His hand moved to the first atomizer. "I believe you will."

I closed my eyes, as if somehow that would protect me, but I still knew
the instant he squeezed it. Every inch of my body came alive and I
realized how dead I'd felt since I'd been spasming beneath my last trick.
I moaned and opened my eyes again, hoping somehow I could see his cock
through the solid desk between us. I needed it between my legs.

"What's happening, Mom?" The fear in Olivia's voice was plain to hear.

My beautiful daughter was trying so hard to be strong. "I love you, Baby,"
I gasped, focusing on her well-loved face instead of the seductively
attractive male flesh my body really craved.

A flash of movement glimpsed from the corner of my eye pulled my attention
back to the desk. He'd stood up. "Didn't you know, my dear Olivia?" He
slowly unzipped his slacks and let them fall to the floor. "Your mother is
a cock-hungry whoring cumslut who'd do anything to have a man's dick
between her legs."

She gasped and blushed at the sight of his large erection. I gasped too,
my mouth watering and my traitor cunt leaking into the upholstery of the
chair. I realized I was halfway to my feet, and forced myself back into
the chair; my knuckles were white on the armrests.

"It's true," he told my incredulous daughter. "I thought you might
recognize the scent. Tanya's fucked Mr. Jones, here, in the parking lot
after one of your games. She's fucked your friend Erin's father twice, I
believe. You know Kimberly's father, yes? I wouldn't have thought she
could fit his erection down her throat, but I've seen pictures. The
mailman. Why, she fucked your father's friend, Gary, twice -- or was it
three times, Tanya? -- in just one night *in your own house*."

He fisted himself just once, but I saw the fluid appear at the tip of his
erection and I was halfway to the desk, panting with frustrated desire.
Olivia hauled me back into the chair by main force, elbowing Mr. Jones
when he tried to interfere.

"She's degraded herself hundreds of times, Olivia. She's even arranged to
debase your entire family, make you the same as herself, just for the
privilege of getting herself off on my cock." The shame was there, but it
was inconsequential next to my sluttish craving for him. "Ask her where
Jose and Alex are."

"They're home sick!" wailed Olivia, but there was doubt in her eyes and a
part of me I thought I'd hidden safely away from him died abruptly.
"They're sick, aren't they?" she repeated, crying and struggling to hold
me in place.

"Touching, but this grows tedious," our tormentor announced. He picked up
the atomizer again. "You have two choices, Tanya. One; you will walk over
and urinate on my associate there, which doubtless will provide some small
measure of satisfaction for you, following which you may abuse yourself on
my body in whatever manner you prefer for 30 minutes."

"Two; if you have not complied by the time I count to five, I shall spray
Olivia. It is true she has no penis, but we all know you love her and you
are, shall we say, creative. The end result will be the same, but both of
you will always remember that her entry to this world started with a
perverted rape by her own mother. Love can withstand many things, but
that?"

"One. Two. Three."

"I'm sorry, Baby," I whispered, and threw myself at Mr. Jones. Olivia
fought me like a tiger, but I no longer was divided in my mind and he
reluctantly moved towards us, cutting the distance I needed to travel in
half.

"Four."

Normally I had difficulty peeing in a public restroom if the adjoining
stall was occupied. That afternoon, with my daughter clinging to me and
still clothed, I pulled myself against Mr. Jones and flooded the front of
my skirt and his leg with warm urine in less time than it takes to say it.

One moment Olivia was wrestling with me; in the next, she was wrestling
with Mr. Jones and I had stumbled free. I hesitated a moment, listening to
her guttural moan when he shoved a hand down the front of her shorts, and
turned to claim my own reward.

The taste of his precum was rapturous, and the feel of him in my mouth let
me put all of the downers of the day behind me. I wanted more, however. It
took only a second to tear off my soaking panties and sit back on top of
the desk, spreading myself in invitation. Thankfully, he accepted it and I
rocked in ecstasy beneath the pounding of that magnificent organ.

"Like mother, like daughter," I think he said, looking over my shoulder,
but my entire world was the monstrous tool that left me on the brink of
orgasm each time its tip breached my womb. When he came inside me, it felt
like a rising sea of cum was lifting me to heaven.

I came to my senses, more or less, in a familiar position: on my knees
with a cock in my mouth. The promised half hour must have passed. The
temptation to bite down was strong, but I knew it wouldn't get me anything
except more trouble. Besides, the sound of Olivia's broken weeping was
already tugging at the fragments of my heart that remained unsoiled.

"Very nice, Tanya," my master complemented me after inspecting my work.
"You were pleased, Mr. Jones?"

"Oh, yeah! Cherry, can you believe it?"

I wanted to slap that expression off his face, but Olivia needed me. I
knelt beside her naked body and gathered her into my arms. Pink-hued
rivulets streaked her thighs, and she wouldn't look at me. We'd raised her
right, and she'd saved herself, for this? "Oh Honey, I'm so sorry. Don't
be ashamed; I know you couldn't help it."

"I don't anticipate you'll be acquainted with shame for very much longer,"
came the dry comment from the man behind the desk.

"*Shut up!*" I snarled with more venom that I thought I still possessed.
"Come on, Olivia," I urged in my softest and most soothing voice, "let's
get you home." I looked around and found her shorts and tee-shirt. They
looked mostly okay; her panties were in shreds and I thought the bra might
be too much for the bite marks I saw on her breasts. The socks were
soiled; I peeled them carefully off her legs.

Slowly, I got Olivia dressed and on her feet. Slut that I was, I needed
only to tug my skirt back into place. We walked out of there, huddled
together, and tried to pretend we were the only two people in the world.

"We'll be in touch," he said, just before I slammed the door behind us.