DQ Ch. 03: My Mom is a VR Slut

So, the next big major invention, and this is where my trouble starts, was when the Flesh Device was invented. This was an innovation that would let you insert the DNA of your chosen person, along with your memories and imagination, and that would conjure up, from this, a Manipulable Fantasy Object (MFO) that you could place in any situation whatsoever. The MFO was basically a digital avatar of the person of your desire. You were no longer bound to the fantasy of one person, the machine would do the imagining as it were, and once a person was in, it was as if she or he were really really there."

Interviewer: "Did you not perceive the risks of this?"

Davey: "Yeah. This was much more dangerous. I mean, guys have been jerking off to fantasies about the girls around them as long as there have been dicks to jerk, but MFO's replaced real sex fully. It would take the genotype, combine this with memories of the phenotype, and create a wholly lively digital version of this person. Every little freckle would be in place. Every hair would be in its real world spot. This was hyper real.

The Flesh Device felt like a restart. People became really careful not to end up as a MFO, because then all their secrets would be exposed for real. I mean, with the older Fantasy Device, I could only see what I imagined Patricia tits would look like. The Flesh Device, using her DNA and all the information in my head, could actually portray them as they were with almost full certainty. That was one large step for mankind.

Of course, Charlie tried catching hairs from random passengers on the bus to insert them into the machine. It worked for a bit, but without the memories, they did not feel like real people. The sensation was intenser than with the older device, because their bodies felt so real , and the scenario's were more diverse, as you could place yourself and this other in any situation thinkable. But overall it remained dull.

Charlie did a lot of spanking the passengers, especially in offices and schools. I had three MILFs suck my cock off on the bus. It was amazing, better than the real world sex I had had, but without the memories, these people felt like card board versions of themselves still. They were rather silent, and after they had swallowed my load, we did not know what to talk about at all. They did not came further than what was in the scenario and the Flesh Device almost lost the interest due to its own success of realism.

After a few celebrities were manipulated into giving their DNA, the whole world could fuck a realistic MFO of Scarlett Johanson. Soon people were really afraid to accidentally lose their genetic info to some creep. Weird rubber suits became obligatory in class, because girls were jumpy about the guys enslaving digital versions of them in the mesh of the Flesh Device. Not completely without reason. Home schooling became much more common in response, especially now many classes could be hosted through Zoom. Many of us who lived through the corona pandemic were reminded of that period, actually."

Interviewer: "Let me note that..."

Davey: "I think this must all sound weird to you, as you know that the system broke eventually and practically everybody, except the super rich, were put into the Flesh Device. Most people were put in the Flesh Device by Russian hackers, or by secretive colleagues. There was no stopping this virtual sex revolution, I guess, in the end.

But still, my sins were larger, and they are so blatantly visible in my account.

I had the horrible bad luck to be slightly too late with buying the Flesh Device, because of which I did not know how it worked... Believe me on that one, please, although I know you will probably not. Nothing for which I am now remembered was done voluntarily!

Okay, so let me get to the embarrassing part. I ordered this Flesh Device, and I was ready to use it when Mom came into my room, as she always did on Fridays to chat about the week. I cherished those moments, but recently I had avoided mom as I was too busy jerking off. Awkwardly, I tried to hide the thing under my bed, but I was sure that she must have seen it. Anyway, we sat there chatting, reflecting on the week as we used to do, drinking coffee or tea. It was nice. Our relationship was still in tact."

Interviewer: "What happened then?"

The woman points to the book in the corner of the room, her mouth agape.

"My god... my god..."

The man looks, just in time to see the cover tremble then abide to a hand that comes stretching from out of its pages. Thin, long fingers crawl like spider's legs to grab hold of the cover.

Without thinking, the man barges towards the book and stamps on it with his foot. Several fingers get caught between the pages and the cover with a cracking sound, as if someone snapped a celery into two. He stamps again. And again. Finally, the fingers, crooked and bleeding, retreat into the inner part of the story.

"Wow..." the man pants. "That was insane. It must have been the cook trying to get into our story!"

"What would have happened if he got out?"

"He could have changed our entire story again. Perhaps he could have even changed us..."

The woman gets distracted by something on the page they were writing. "Oh, no. Look!" she points to the story.

"What's wrong?"

"When we were distracted, the character accidentally sipped from his mother's coffee. And then started using the Flesh Device..."

"So...?"

"So, his mom must have become an MFO! A character to be used by others! That must have been his secret, the end towards this story progressed!"

The man hits his fore head with his flat hand. "I was going to have him steal Patricia's hairs... I had the entire arc in my head already! While he was fucking her MFO, they bonded in real life, only for his secret to come out. Then he would learn from his mistakes, she would forgive him, and they would live happily ever after!"

"But we have let this turn into an incest story, once more..."

The woman sighs in defeat. It seems that whatever they try, their stories always end up with some mother-son incest. As if this was where their freedom ends.

She turns to the man. "You are right... We are not free... We are being guided by forces beyond our understanding..."

Defeated, they bend over the pages to see where their story would take them.

Interviewer: "Okay, just tell me your story. Do not refrain. I am interested in all details. I will listen."

Davey: "How could I have been so stupid? The first time I had used the Flesh Device, on Friday evening after Mom had finally left my room, I just had sex with Scarlett Johanson, as everybody did who had the first go with the machine. Although she wasn't on the official list of MFOs, even I could be taught how to access the official resources where the hacked MFOs floated about. It was amazing. I had her on the beach in LA, then I had her on a mountain peak in Sweden, then I had her in the sauna, and, finally, in the office of the dean of our school. Then, exhausted, I fell asleep with the goggles of the Flesh Device still on, my left butt cheek half on one of its screens.

I woke early the next day because of a text by Charlie that warned me to check out my account on the Flesh Device. Apparently he had already found my new account, I wondered how. My question was soon resolved. My whole inbox on the Flesh Device was overrunning with messages, likes, mentions, shares - I hardly new how to navigate this thing and for a moment I thought I was some kind of super star. This newfound glory did not last long. The topic of all the messages was in some way related to Ms Stonefield, AKA my mom, and one or another obscene addition. Why was everybody texting me about my mother on this device?

I opened one of the messages and yelped in horror. It contained an image of my mother in a blue bikini, while a young, muscled man stood behind her and appeared to be massaging her shoulders. Mom made a 'V' sign with her fingers, as she sensually pouted her lips. Where were they? It appeared to be some random pool in a suburb in the West. I didn't know the guy, but I wondered whether dad would be OK with this.

There was another picture that dad was sure to not be OK with. Mom was on her knees in front of a row of college kids, not much older than twenty three. As the picture was taken from behind, I could only guess, but it sure looked like mom was sucking one of them off. She was butt naked, her wide ass pointed towards the camera. The college kids raised their middle fingers to the camera too, as in provocation.

Slow to take this all in, I kept opening photo's and links to video's in the Flesh Device that featured my mother in one way or another. This was... horrible.

Then I stumbled upon scenario's that had been written by people last night, involving my mom, that were free for everyone to download and experience on their devices. Only then did I realize that mom had become a MFO, and an insanely popular one. Later I learned that she was one of the first hundred 'real amateur' MFOs that combined genotype and memories, as the rest were porn stars and hijacked celebrities. This had made her into quite a phenomenon, stimulating thoughts of ever new uses of her body and personality. People craved some authenticity beyond all the porn stars and celebrities. My mom was the first to fulfill that desire.

What had happened was that I had accidentally added my own mother as a character to the Flesh Device, when I was drinking from her coffee cup while browsing through the various options for locations to have sex with Scarlett. I do not know how, but I must have pressed some button that started the transfer of mom into the device, using the DNA still on the cup and my lips. Along with my many memories of her, this rendered an almost perfect image of mom into the device. Some punk must have picked this image up, and then things started spreading like a forest fire.

All this was bad enough, but it might have passed by in months when the Flesh Device slowly absorbed more and more girls and women as MFOs. Mom was simply the first of many more to come. Yet, I accidentally made everything worse. I wanted to see what people were doing to the virtual clone of my mom, so I browsed to the top five most played scenarios involving my mom. Already in one night, several of them reached a million 'views', although 'view' sounds too passive as the Flesh Device let those millions of men actually experience what it would be like to fuck my mother. I was so shocked that I could not concentrate on the titles. With my thick thumb, I pressed on a button next to the list, which somehow started to play out the scenarios.

'Shit, shit, shit.' I thought, while I tried to stop the machine from loading the scenario. I had no intention to actually perform the stories written by others, I simply wanted to see the extent of the damage I had done.

And I was not thinking about the history of my account, which is publicly visible to everybody... And neither did I reflect on the fact that probably everybody was curious as to how I would respond to my mom being inserted into the system...

Let me take you through what I witnessed. I am sure you have seen clips of me in these scenario's all over the internet. Someone found out how to record my adventures in the Flesh Device, but I want to tell you my side of the story too.

Scenario five: school sick

When I opened my eyes, the Flesh Device had transferred me to my room, which pissed me off immediately. How many hundreds of thousands users of the Flesh Device had woken up between these simulated sheets of mine, given that this was the fifth most watched scenario? How many eyes had been looking at those Marvel posters above my bed?

It angered me that some hacker had used these intimate details of my life for a simulation that was open to everybody to use. I also wished that I had changed these posters some time recently, as the whole world would now think that I was still a comic geek. I had been a comic geek half a year ago, but things had definitely changed.

I tried to find the 'off' button, but as I was immersed in the simulation, I could not find any way out. When I tried to take off the goggles, I merely touched my own, simulated hair. I tried it again, pulling harder. Ouch. I pulled some of my digital hairs out.

Shit, how was I to turn this off? Surely, there had to be some way? I wanted to get up to walk out of the door, but the simulation seemed to slow down extremely when I did, so that no matter how hard I concentrated on walking out of here, every time I would find myself on the edge of the bed again.

There was no escaping! I was starting to get in an angry 'let-me-see-what-you-assholes-have-done' mood, as if I were a teacher opening a box full of liquor hidden under a bed during a school trip. What could harm could these punks that had used my memories do? Looking back these thoughts were kind of stupid. I should never ever have had to experience this story. Still, I had no clue how to check out the description of this story line, and neither did I know how to leave the simulation, so I was still clueless when the door knob was pushed down and the door, squeaking, swung open.

There was mom. A white summer dress with butterfly-shaped ornaments covering her chest with an embroidered patchwork of frivolous shapes. Near her hips the dress became tighter, accentuating her hourglass figure with her voluptuous hips and her large ass. This simulation was too real. She moved as I knew her, with her arms shyly crossed in front of her stomach, and when she came closer to me, she even smelled as I knew her. Dior J'adore eau. Indeed, this was mom exactly as she appeared to me in daily life.

I had little time to wonder about the technical feats of the simulation, because mom sat down on my bed side. She brushed her curly red hair from her face with her left hand, while her right hand distractedly began to caress my arm that stuck above my blankets.

"Davey" she said, "you are late for school... Get up, you silly."

"Mom, stop it. How do I get out of this simulation?"

She brushed through my hairs. I had actually been here in real life too, recently. Being eighteen and still stuck in high school, I was not always that motivated. Mom would come to wake me and convince me to go to school, even when I did not want to go.

"I feel ill..." I heard myself say, without thinking or control over my voice. This must be part of the virtual reality's script, I remember thinking. Perhaps there were some elements included that the players could not simply skip over. "I... want to leave..." I managed to add.

"Oh, honey, we have been over this..." mom replied, as she kept on stroking my arm. "You really need to stop pretending that you are ill. You are perfectly fit."

"I have a fever. I don't want to go..." Again, I said these words without knowing I was going to.

"Are you really ill this time, honey?"

"Yes, I am so hot. Please believe me, mommy."

She placed her hand on my forehead. Its texture felt exactly the same as mom's. It had a certain coarseness that set it apart from the hands of the girls I had met before. This was a hand of someone who had lived, who had worked with her hands. Mom had helped out on her family's farm often. Still, her hand felt elegant too. This simulation really captured every tiny detail...

"You do not feel hot."

"I have a stomach ache. And my muscles hurt. And..." And I want to leave...

"Or.... is there another problem, baby?"

Suddenly, mom placed her left hand on top of the blanket, right where my crotch was. I only now realized that I was rock hard down there and had been all the time. Mom must have felt as she smiled a crooked smile, as she looked at me and gently kissed my forehead.

This was more than enough. I had to stop the simulation. But how? I cursed my lack of understanding of this new technology. I tried yelling 'stop', but my mouth would not work. I twisted my head in all directions in the hope some menu would pop up, but nothing happened.

I then tried to take mom's arm away, but it was as if my hands became translucent when I did. I could not focus on their movement. The scripted virtual reality prohibited certain responses, apparently. This scared me witless. Then, I attempted to get up and walk out of the room. Again, I felt my muscles brace for the movement, but I was impossible to actually get up. This simulation only allowed one possible ending...

Then mom squeezed my cock.

She started kneading my crotch through the blankets, as she gently hummed a tune. I felt a forbidden passion starting to burn all through me. Surely, the simulation also influenced my state of being. Mom only interrupted her humming to say: "I think I have found the problem, haven't I?"

I tried to control my breath, to focus on anything but mom's hand. But her massage had an enormously strong reaction on me in this simulated reality. I soon began panting like a horny dog.

"Let me tell you what..." mom said, while her hand kept working me. "I will relieve you, if you promise mommy to just go to school."

Just say no, I thought. Just stop it. But I could not stop my mouth from opening and uttering, while gasping for air, a confirmation in the form of a high pitched groan.

Matter of factly, mom lifted the blankets, as if she were going to perform a medical check on me. Or as if she was just making my bed. I lay there, exposed in oversized boxers. Her hand skillfully maneuvered under its elastic, and I cringed when I felt it touch my pubic hairs. It then easily and firmly grabbed my cock. She started jerking with abrupt movements.

Mom was now sitting right on the edge of the bed, with her back towards me, so that her left hand could freely make me come. This meant that I had view of her ass, which was of yet still covered in her summer dress. I had never had such an open view of mom's assets, and while I was still in shock of the decisiveness with which she started to please me, I could not resist looking at her ass cheeks wobble under her effort. When mom noticed, she kindly lifted her dress a bit, so that I had a view of her creamy white globes of flesh over which a lace panty was stretched.

I felt mom's slightly rough hands stroking my cock, as her index finger massaged my frenulum.

"Big boy..." she whispered.

I could hardly breathe. It was as if my penis was the center of the whole freaking universe: pleasure erupted from where mom touched me, and I felt bittersweet waves of lust shoot out through my entire body. I arched my back, I wiggled and moaned. Seeing mom so close to me, feeling her hand, enjoying the warmth of her hip against my naked torso... I had to fight with all my might not to start enjoying this...

I could no longer help myself. This simulation messed with my brain. I felt my right hand move towards mom's ass, which I grabbed firmly, driving my fingers into its white flesh, as mom started moving her hand faster and faster. I kneaded it as if it were a ball of dough. Mom gently smiled and looked over her shoulder.

"Are you going to cum for mommy?"

I groaned, while I kept working mom's ass with my hands, to see it shake and tremble. When she started leaning over to allow her arm to move even faster, I could see the contours of her pussy in her underwear.

"Aaaaaaarrraaaggh." I replied to mom's previous question.

Cum shot in various arcs out of my dick. Mom gently squeezed it as I kept firing semen into the air. It landed on my stomach and it splashed mom's under arm. I was in ecstasy. The feeling of mom's secure hand around my cock made me go crazy. She gently jerked it now and again, when she felt another load coming, until finally, lazily, the last drops seeped out of the tip of my dick like tiny tears.