A Mother's Lust Ch. 11

Betty was already drenched in sweat, and her body was probably going to have rope marks if the redness was anything to go by. While I could not tell for sure, it seemed to me she reached an orgasm just as my zaps became less organized. By then, my wand simply ran long lines along her body, occasionally prodding or tapping sensitive areas like her clit and nipples.

It was an intense one. I couldn't tell at first, so I didn't stop zapping. Betty's moans became wholly different noises. Words, perhaps, which I could not make out because of the gag. Her simmering body wiggled under my weight, with my cock fully plunged inside her. She arched her back, pushing her belly forward, before letting out a lengthy moan which dissolved into several small sobs of pleasure.

"Mmmmmmmmh! Mmmmhmhmhmhm..."

It was a good thing Karla and George were arguing so loudly. Betty had lost some control over her loudness, at least during that long orgasm of hers. At that point, I was too close to my own climax to care all that much, though. With Betty's pleasure taken care of, I finally decided it was my turn. Holding down the shock stick button, I pressed its tip continuously against her clit once more. She immediately spasmed in her restraints and clenched involuntarily, prompting me to finally give in to the frenetic speed that can only be achieved when a man is shooting for an orgasm. Meanwhile, the symphony of Karla's dysfunctional marriage kept playing outside our door.

"God, you're really keen on getting your fix, aren't you?"

"I said it's for work, already!"

"And I said that's bullshit! You push my buttons one more time, George, one more time and I'll make sure our family knows you as the little creep that swipes right on 18-year-olds."

"Fine!" George exploded. "You win! I won't use my phone anymore today! Happy?! Can I please leave it charging in our bedroom at least?!"

"No," I could hear Karla's smirk as she said that. "Give it to me and I'll do it."

"You must be joking."

"You want to fight some more? Or do you want to take this little compromise and move on? I'm not in the mood for more tantrums borne out of your sexual frustration today."

There was silence at the door.

"That's what I thought. Give me the phone and go back to the living room."

Karla's victory over George almost coincided with my own orgasm. Just as she was forcing her husband into a defeated sort of silence, I was finally cumming.

"This is it Betty," I whispered at my gagged lover. "I'm filling you up."

It was a surprisingly powerful orgasm, considering I had already had one that same afternoon. I'd expected fewer ejaculations, with much smaller doses of cum shooting out each time. Not that I was displeased or worried. At that point, in the haze of arousal, I was quite happy to pump Betty full with my seed. In my head I was there to do just that; breed her. As if to mark the end of our session, I removed Betty's gag and planted a kiss on her lips as my cock throbbed its last still inside her pussy.

"Mmm..." she smirked, seemingly looking me in the eyes despite the blindfold. "You were quite rough today..."

"You were being a tease today," I chuckled.

I heard the door unlock just as I was taking off Betty's blindfold. Karla was quick to lock the door again behind her.

"Well, well..." she purred. "You two should never have the gall to say I never do nice things for you."

She bit her lip as she noticed the shock stick in my hand. Her eyes only flared up with more lust once she noticed I had finished inside Betty too.

"You know, Peter..." Karla got on top of the bed, behind me, and wrapped her arms around my torso. Her whispers had a special hint of malice in them. "The ropes were not the only surprise that made this little session special."

"He already knows, Karla," Betty smirked despite all her bindings. "I told him I was off the pill."

I had the minor satisfaction of seeing Karla slightly displeased. As if someone had outdone her by mere virtue of doing things slightly differently from what she had planned. Before I knew it, she had taken the wand from my hands.

"You naughty little spoilsport!" she teased as she tapped Betty's nipple with the shock stick.

Betty only bit her lip, yelped and squirmed under her restraints. I could tell by Karla's expression she was fighting an urge to keep zapping her. I had to wonder how hard it was for Karla to control her own lust in order to make these machinations of hers actually go through.

"And you went through with it all the same, did you Peter?" Karla gave me an odd look. A mix of slight disappointment, admiration, and the usual never-ending lust battled for control of her expression.

Rationality was slowly returning to me, but I was not in the mood to worry about this just yet. Instead, I got to work on setting Betty free.

"You think you got us both knocked up?" she whispered in my ear again. "I'd love to see you break that news to my son. Mmm..."

She zapped her sister's belly, as if trying to get a small fix for her own lust. I had to focus on the knots to avoid getting turned on again. Karla's behavior was off. It seemed as if she was as uncontrollably horny as I usually felt. With a person as volatile as her, that was a serious risk. I did not want to add to it by losing control too.

"Are you devolving back into a mute, Peter?!" she snarled in my ear, pressing the wand against my neck. No discharge came out. Yet. "Where is the sparring? The fun?"

"You always have a knack for cruelty I cannot match, Karla," I relented, if only a little. "I think you'd make breaking the news to him all the more fun."

"Too right I would," she whispered happily. "I'd break more than the news."

Another zap. Betty wiggled with an impossibly cute expression of her face as the wand poked her below the armpit.

"You think he'd cry?" I could hear her biting her lip.

"Ah!" Betty was zapped again. By now, the twitches in response to the shocks were less restrained, on account of the ropes I had already untied.

"Or maybe he would be so paranoid of getting cucked like this, he would never get a girlfriend of his own," Karla laughed evilly.

I didn't stop undoing the bindings, even as Karla zapped Betty yet again. My extensive focus on those knots was the only thing stopping me from putting Karla on top of her sister and fucking her too.

"Maybe he'd snap and tell his father he is a cuckold?"

Betty was then zapped in the thigh. This time, she moaned. Karla was turning her on too.

"It's about time someone other than me calls him that, don't you think?" I heard a whispery chuckle from her as I set her sister's legs free.

"Mmm!" Betty gritted her teeth to avoid moaning too loud from another shock. "God, Karla... Put something in..."

"Do you think he will doubt George is his real dad? Maybe we should tell him either way, just to see how he reacts..." she purred.

I finally grabbed Karla's wrist, just as she was about to zap her sister again. This time, she had been aiming for her pussy.

"Control yourself. We've been gone from the living room for too long."

Karla turned towards me; her face dead serious. Then, with a clear hint of defiance, she took the wand with another hand and smacked Betty's breast.

"Oh..." my friend's aunt muttered hazily. "Peter is right... We should... Bernard..."

By now, Betty was sprawling on the bed, nude, with rope marks along her curvaceous body. Karla and I had similar glints of lust in our eyes as we beheld her. Deep down, I wouldn't mind seeing another poke from the shock stick. I hadn't lied: Karla was good at inflicting pain. But that stab of electricity never came.

"Get dressed, Peter," Karla's eyes seemed to have burnt cold. Just like that, there was no more lust in them. Just the usual twinkle of malice. "If anyone asks, you were in my son's room."

Betty was still motionless. Drooling, with hazy eyes, and clearly wet enough for another round of pleasure and punishment. Her short red hair was nowhere near short enough not to look messy. Her body was covered in sweat and red rope marks, one even around her neck. Looking as disheveled as she did, I wondered how Karla was going to make it less obvious that she had been thoroughly dominated.

I had felt like crap upon returning from the garage after fucking Karla in the car. The thought of Betty returning to the living room in a state of sex-induced mindlessness was an arousing one, but I was already too rational to actually want that to happen.

Karla put down the shock stick inside a drawer. On her other hand was a small black device - George's phone. She walked towards the charger, plugged above her husband's bedside table.

"Now what was it I was supposed to do for George, again?" she smirked at me as I got dressed.

"Charge... phone..." Betty moved a hand very absently, slowly rubbing her pussy.

"Hmm... Nope! Can't recall it!"

She giggled happily as she put the phone right next to the charger without plugging it in. I had to give the woman credit for making me feel sorry for George. I assumed I had been far enough gone not to care, and even enjoy how miserable his life was, but Karla always found a way to surprise me with her sheer, infuriating nastiness.

This wasn't a negative remark, at this point. I liked Karla's nastiness. I loved seeing what she did to other people. Pushing all their buttons, tormenting them with words. Even when she infuriated me, I only wanted to fuck her more. Even now, as she 'forgot' to charge George's phone, I was already figuring out her reddish curls needed some more pulling, her neck some more strangling, and her pussy some more pounding. She deserved punishment, just like me. We deserved what we inflicted upon each other.

"You better not be looking at me like that now, Peter," she smirked, bemused. "Not after you put a stop to my fun."

I think I would have objected if Karla hadn't acted faster. She quickly guided me towards the door.

"I'm proud of you today," she whispered, then bit my ear. It was the closest thing to a motherly voice she ever used on me while we were speaking honestly to one another.

She never did specify what it was she was proud of. Stopping her from letting her horniness get us all caught? Dominating Betty? Cumming inside her? Before I could ask her to elaborate, Karla was already peeking outside. When she deemed the coast clear, she pushed me out of the bedroom just hard enough to remind me her body was as impressive as it was sexy. The door was closed again before I could turn around.

I might have been a bit better off than Betty after that little session, but that did not stop me from feeling and probably looking disheveled in my own right. My first order of business was to head to the bathroom to better assess my appearance. The enduring absence of a key in the bathroom lock was either an oversight from Karla's previous scheme - the one before the hike - or proof of a current one. I had lost the ability to believe in keys going missing by accident in Karla's household.

The mirror confirmed what I had feared. My hair was a mess, my eyes were still a little too shiny, as if I had just woken up, and my face was too red. I quickly got to work on what little I could fix. I washed my face, adjusted my hair. I even straightened my clothes, even though I had taken them off before doing anything to Betty.

After all that, my reflection still looked like that of a man that had obviously just had sex. My inner doubts about whether that was the truth or just my mind playing tricks on me were interrupted by a gentle knock on the door.

"Just a minute," I hurried to say.

I heard the door open anyway. My eyes were not taken off the mirror, as I didn't feel like I was in a compromising situation.

"I said just-"

"I heard what you said."

That chilly voice rang alarm bells in my head. I turned around just in time to find Marilyn closing the door behind her. Those green eyes hadn't grown any kinder since my departure. The silver hair, the pale skin and the dark autumn clothes on her gave her an oddly spectral look. A beautiful specter, to be sure, provided you didn't linger on her eyes. I even took a step back.

"Jumpy, aren't you? May I ask why?"

It was a good question. Why was I so terrified of this woman? The eyes? The fact she'd given birth to a demoness like Karla? The first answer felt insufficient, the second one felt impossible to explain without giving away too many secrets.

"Cat got your tongue? I'll be upfront."

She stepped into the bathroom. The place was not nearly spacious enough for this kind of activity. Soon enough she had her slender body uncomfortably close to mine, and I was again reminded of how large her breasts were for a woman with her age and build. They took up a remarkable amount of my personal space.

"You're my daughter's little toy, aren't you?" her green eyes were hard, unflinching orbs of pitilessness. I almost missed the question in its entirety.

"I... wh-what?"

Marilyn did not blink, breathe or move.

"You heard what I asked."

"I'm here because of your grandson," I tried to sound puzzled.

She shot me a cynical little smile. The kind of smile that tells people you won't even dignify their lies as plausible.

"Spare me, boy. You think I don't notice when Karla has just had sex?"

I had to freeze as she got on the tips of her toes to whisper in my ear.

"It's all in the eyes," she whispered before getting back down. "I'm sure you'll agree, seeing as you keep staring at mine."

"Did you just barge into this bathroom to make accusations about me?" I still had hopes of playing it safe.

Marilyn chuckled emptily at that. There was a faint hint of amusement in her eyes, for once.

"You're slippery! Does Karla put even half the effort you are putting now into hiding the affair?"

That was a familiar tone. The aggravating intonation Karla herself used when she wanted me to hurt her. It was as uncanny as it was mesmerizing. By now, Marilyn had her body slightly pressed against mine, as well as an undecipherable smirk on her face.

"I've seen Karla do these stunts before. Never told her boyfriends. Or her husband. If that's what has you so worried."

I kept eyeing the door with suspicion. Had Karla set this up? Was this another test of hers? A way to check if I would rat us out after coming so far? I couldn't back away from Marilyn much more than I already had.

"Or maybe my little Karla has made you into quite a special project indeed," she looked me up and down, as if sizing me up. "She always did enjoy making the prudent reckless. Did a number on my Betty when they were growing up. Maybe she did a number on you too."

Maybe you should have raised her better, was my inner thought that didn't materialize into a reply. I merely let myself drown in those vicious green eyes, silently.

"You're a little on the quiet side, aren't you?"

She finally brought a hand to my cheek, stroking it in an odd, clunky way. From up close, I could tell she was a remarkably beautiful woman, with hints of Karla's own freckly features, only aged gracefully. Not that this made the situation any more comfortable. I was preparing to push her away when her other hand crawled up my back underneath my shirt. Her fingers brushed past many of Karla's scratch marks on my skin.

"What the hell?" I found myself whispering.

There was just enough time for me to see a creepy little grin on Marilyn's lips as she spoke again.

"Ah. I know how to speak your language."

Her nails dug into me. She did it nastily too, pushing my flesh against her nails with her thumb. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't learned to enjoy this stuff by now. I sucked in some air and closed my eyes as Marilyn kept squeezing a chunk of my flesh with her five claws. The pain was exhilarating.

"Busted?" she whispered tentatively.

"What do you want?" I found myself retorting through gritted teeth.

"The truth, for a start."

Marilyn finally brought her other hand to my back as will. With it, another bit of me was grabbed and clawed at. This effort, by now, had pulled us very close together. Her large breasts were now fully pressed against me. Even in this almost romantic embrace, her eyes remained cold and harsh. Granted, with warm breasts in front of me and searing pain at my back, the coldness of her eyes was mattering less and less.

"Are you Karla's toy?" she repeated calmly.

I nodded weakly. It hardly seemed like lying about it would get me anywhere, at this point. And I had hopes she wouldn't stop.

"I want to hear you say it."

"Yes!" my voice came out like a hiss. Marilyn immediately repositioned her fingers, clawing at different spots on my back. "God, yes..."

There was something else in her eyes now. Not mischief or playfulness, but curiosity. Her eyes glanced downwards for a second, before returning to mine. Eyes like an inquisitor's: ruthless and full of questions.

"And how would you say you two get along?"

"We-"

My reply was interrupted by her hand gripping my crotch. Even without undressing me, Marilyn could easily tell I was already hard.

"She really has done a number on you, hasn't she?" she shook her head with another cynical smile. Contempt and pity flourished in her expression. Her hand was still down there. Groping. Feeling. Exploring. "You were saying?"

"I love her... and I hate her... and I love that I can't tell what I'll feel each time."

"Keep going," Marilyn unzipped my trousers.

"She makes me a worse person. I like hurting and getting hurt. I really like the affair. Because it is an affair, I mean."

She only muttered something to herself, before going down on her knees. In one gesture, she pulled my pants down. Her face was dangerously close to the bulge in my underwear, even if her expression was as neutral and detached as always. I immediately stopped speaking and breathing, unsure of what she was trying to pull off next.

"I didn't say stop," she managed to somehow sound commanding from that position.

"What are you doing?"

"Shh... Just keep telling me about you and Karla," her voice came across as motherly and caring.

"What else is there to say? I'm a degenerate. Is that what you want to hear? I love fucking married women. I love that her son has to watch and cover for us now. I'm evil. Is that it?"

Marilyn kept undressing me nonchalantly. I even wondered if she was actually listening to what I was saying.

"Seems like my daughter has finally found a toy as rotten as she likes them," she kept her eyes on my cock, now throbbing right above her forehead.

"What are you doing?"

"Tell me," she ignored my question. "What was the most wicked thing you did for Karla since you became her plaything?"

I felt her hand gripping my cock. My mind was torn between insisting on my question and just keeping the answers coming, to see where she would go. In the end, I opted for the latter.

"I already did. Her son. We forced him to watch us."

While I spoke, Marilyn started stroking me very gently. So gently, in fact, I even doubted those were the same hands that had almost ripped chunks off my back mere minutes before. I kept talking.

"Multiple times, already. Karla blackmails him. Threatens him. And I have added to his torment myself. The insults... the humiliation... it was riveting."

The strokes gained some momentum. Her grip tightened. Was Marilyn aroused by what I was saying? Or just trying to get me to cum?

"You said married women, didn't you? Expand on that."

"Karla loves to remind me George won't have her anymore," I sighed, as the growing speed of Marilyn's stroking was starting to make me feel some considerable pleasure. "I like the idea of taking Karla from him."