Her sister gave it to her. Amy wished she’d been paying more attention to her email when she opened Ellie’s note, if she had, her phone and laptop wouldn’t be infected by the “auto-correct” virus. It was certainly annoying, her phone and computer’s self-cameras would strobe unexpectedly and her lock screens were now spiraling colors that gave her a pounding headache.
She’d called Ellie to yell at her but she had sounded sorry enough and promised to come over with something special for dinner to make up for it.
Thinking about dinner reminded Amy that she needed to tell her sister when to come over. She pulled out her phone to send her a quick text. Amy typed, ‘Come over at 6 tonight.” When she hit send, it posted as:
“Cum over for sex tonight.”
Damn it, apparently the virus was created by teenagers. Before she could revise her message, Ellie replied:
“Great, what time?”
Amused by her sister’s lack of attention, Amy texted: ‘Come over at six o’clock” but when she hit send, it came up as
“Cum over to suck and fuck.”
Before she could swear at her phone again, Ellie texted back.
“Of course, when?”
More confused than amused and wondering what the hell Ellie was seeing, Amy hit the call icon next to her sister’s picture.
“Are you actually reading my texts?”
“Sure, what’s the problem?”
“Jesus Ellie, they’re pornographic!”
Ellie laughed, “Silly, you haven’t fixed yourself yet have you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The auto-correct virus. I sent you a second email this morning. You need to run it and everything will be fine. Text me when you’re fixed.”
Sure enough, there was another email from Ellie with instructions on how to fix her operating systems. It came with a warning that it would cycle through her media files and sound card so running the program was best done in private.
Closing her office door, Amy opened the file and clicked run.
Her laptop camera flashed so brightly she was knocked back into her chair, she couldn’t seem to move and looking away from the screen felt impossible. Her computer announced: “You are not correct, you must be corrected.”
Pictures began to appear on the screen, all of them sexual, beginning with the tamest missionary position and ranging through acts of debauchery she’d barely imaged, let alone considered experiencing.
She was barely able to whisper, “No, this isn’t right.” But that thought was pushed aside by the computer’relentless repetition:
“This is correct. You will be correct.”
At that, she felt a sudden rush as her nipples hardened her pussy moistened.
Each time she heard ‘correct’ she felt more of herself slip away and that feeling turned her own even more.
With one hand she freed her tits from her blouse and began teasing her nipples while the other hand snaked down into her now aching pussy.
The pictures flashed again, this time even faster, cycling again and again. With each cycle, Amy pushed her fingers even deeper into her throbbing cunt.
She began reinforcing the relentless assault on her personality, repeating to herself,
“Correct, I must be correct.”
A new series of images appeared in her mind. No longer that of strangers, now Amy was in them. There she was being used a fuck-doll by her husband, then she was treating her sister like a slave. She turned her office into a dominatrix’s dream while the two new interns took turns worshiping her cunt.
In a distant part of her brain she new that the virus wasn’t uploading those images into her computer, they were being uploaded into her. For a moment she was frightened, but the computer voice reminded her again, that this was correct, that she must be correct.
She resumed repeating the mantra, “Correct, I must be correct” as she imagined thick cocks pounding her dripping pussy until her brains were oozing out, visions of her tongue-fucking Ellie until she was screaming for release; her coworkers prostrate at her feet begging to service her every dark desire.
Amy visualized every sexual act the virus had exposed her to, only now with her friends and family as the participants.
With each new vision Amy would repeat, “This is correct, all will be correct” as she worked even harder to climax.
Finally the new images stopped and a command screen appeared. “Confirm correction.” Amy didn’t hesitate. One finger clicked Yes while she drove all her fingers up her dripping cunt. She moaned in ecstasy as she climaxed and momentarily passed out.
When her vision cleared, Amy saw the clock and realized it was getting late. She confirmed plans with her sister and then let her husband know Ellie was coming over.
She texted her husband to stop at the store and pick up some toys to use on Ellie. Mike responded with a “?”. A little frustrated, she clarified, “Need them so we can fuck.” A minute later, her phone rang.
“Amy, what is wrong with you.”
Amy laughed just like Ellie had. Her husband wasn’t correct, that was unacceptable. She told him about Ellie’s second email and that he needed to fix himself to take care of the problem.
Unlike her sister, she left the line open, she wanted to listen to it happen. She head his first gasp when he opened the file and then spent five minutes fingering herself to another climax as she listened to her husband correct himself. .
Ten minutes later her husband texted her: “Need me to pick up anything for dinner?”
Rather than type out the list, she just gave him a call.
“Stop by that store on Maple street and pick me up some vibrators and handcuffs for work. Oh and a strap-on so Ellie and I can fuck.” She paused, “we expect you to cum on our tits, what kind of wife do you think I am?”
Another pause, “Of course I’m a cock-hungry fuckdoll, but that’s not all, you’ll see the rest later. Love you!”
One last thing to do before going home. Her computer had already prepped an email to her contact list.
“80 of your 87 contacts need correction. Would you like to correct them now.”
Idly she wondered who her seven friends were that were already correct, but as she hit send she knew it didn’t matter.
All would be correct, it was just a matter of time.
