The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

10:29 a.m.

The Clinic looked brand new. The parking lot had freshly painted lines, the pavement was uncracked, and the security guard gave them a cheery wave. Robert escorted the moaning Ms. Medley inside, then jerked his head at the bubbly-looking girl on duty.

“Farah, Kaycee, we’re going to have you be Candystrippers for the afternoon. Check in with Brianna here, she’ll get you situated. I’ll keep an eye on Ms. Medley.”

“Oh, does she need to be pumped?” The girl on duty chirped.

Robert frantically waved his hands at her.

“Pumped… of… alcohol?” the girl corrected. She fixed her attention on Kaycee and Farah. Her boobs preceded her.

They were big. So big that the nametag looked like a serious liability -- as if the pin on the back was a risk for popping the entire set. Her nurse’s uniform was off-white, with creamy tones, and plunged straight down into the middle of her cleavage. A few freckles decorated the top of her tits.

Both Farah and Kaycee were speechless. Brianna’s lips hovered, halfway open, with red lipstick on the puckered bows.

“My goodness, new volunteers!” she said. The walking wet dream came around the table, and examined the two girls. She had on black leather heels with straps front and back. They clicked methodically on new tile floors. Her nurse outfit went to mid-thigh, and was just one long coat pulled closed with a single strap. The strap was cinched tight.

They introduced each other. Brianna had glossy nails, of course.

“I’m SO glad you’re here to help us,” the woman said. “We’re always a little short-handed around birthing season.”

“Birthing season?”

Something clicked behind Brianna’s eyes. “Which is… when… many volunteers are helping with the cows,” she recited.

She brightened. “Lets get you out of those clothes and into something sterile. But first, are you ladies thirsty?”

Something was very off about the hospital, Kaycee decided. She clutched nervously at another huge water bottle, this one about the size of her upper thighs. She was getting better about not spilling any of the rich, clear liquid.

She had been in a few clinics before. The thing about hospitals was that most of the occupants weren’t healthy. They stooped, or coughed, or at least looked depressed to be there.

Everyone at this clinic was not only the picture of health, with skin that gleamed, they were, by and large hugely pregnant. Some of the women they passed had mere bulging bellies, capped with the increasingly inevitable tits. Even more were waddling around, with gloating smiles, and distended tummies. The few non-pregnant girls they saw still had the boobs.

Kaycee took another big drink of water. The cool was calming. She wanted to just bathe in it, to sink in a nice cool bath and let her body absorb. Maybe that would make the heat dissipate. She had to be sweating in liters. Not to mention the down-there juice.

Brianna led them through a door. Inside, both walls were covered with racks of clothes, in all kinds and colors. A large mirror dominated the end of the narrow hall. It was stifling and hot, with just a slight breeze from air conditioning overhead.

“Okay, girls. Strip.”

Even Farah, who looked increasingly vague, seemed startled by that. “Strip?” she said.

“Those clothes are all dirty. Get ‘em off. We need to get you ladies in something nice and sterile. Come on!”

Sterile. That made sense… right? They HAD just been on a construction site. The two girls started to pull off their dusty jeans and shirts. It didn’t hurt that their bodies ached to be free of the confining clothes. Kaycee’s boobs wanted to be free of the sweaty, constricting bra, and just breath.

She glanced at Farah. The girl had a trim stomach, with a tight rear that showed off her legs nicely. Her boobs were about the same size as hers. At least, Kaycee thought, I have some hips. Boys needed something to grab, after all.

Soon they stood in front of the older woman, at attention in bra and panties.

Brianna produced two electric razors from a cabinet. She turned each one on, then turned them over to the stunned females.

“You can’t be serious,” Kaycee protested.

“I’m not sure why you think that hair on your legs is acceptable in a hospital environment,” Brianna sniffed. “It collects dust. You should be perfectly smooth… but a quick shave will have to do.”

She did need to be smooth for hospital work… right? Kaycee’s concerns were wiped away by the hum and vibration of the razor on her legs. Soon she was eagerly, lovingly swiping them along the lengths of her thighs, as Brianna murmured tips.

“Why don’t you have Farah do your rear end?” she suggested, sweetly.

THAT was too much, Kaycee decided. But then she realized she was bending over, pulling her panties up slightly, as her enemy quietly buzzed around her ass cheeks. The sensation was delicious. And then she was faced with Farah’s trim butt, running a razor over it.

Their legs felt smooth and shiny. Kaycee shivered. She wasn’t cold.

“Adequate,” Brianna judged. She handed each of them a small pink pill. “Swallow this,” she instructed.

Even through the haze of half-naked arousal, Kaycee wasn’t going for THAT right away. “What’s this?” she said.

“A general antibiotic,” Brianna said, condescending. “We don’t want you to get a staph infection.”

It just made too much sense. Everything made sense. But instead Kaycee palmed the pill, making a big show out of drinking an entire water bottle to demonstrate. Farah obligingly swallowed the thing.

“Okay, now lets get you girls dressed!” Brianna said, and clapped like they were five.

11:04 a.m.

“Don’t you have anything not in latex?” Kaycee said, despairing.

Brianna didn’t look like she understood the question. “Latex is sterile, wipes clean, and is easy to maintain for you volunteers,” she explained. “Isn’t there something you find pretty?”

Actually, everything was pretty. Kaycee ran a shaking hand along row after row of clothes that sparkled in the light. They were stretchy and oh so pretty, and she had never worn anything half as revealing.

Farah looked like she was in heaven. She immediately picked her way to the dresses, the ones that looked like thick rubber bands. Even on the hangars Kaycee could see how they would squeeze tits and ass into a nice little package, and present everything for boy inspection.

That WOULD be incredibly hot.

The itching was back, just as bad as before. The tickle of the air conditioning on her bare legs was driving Kaycee up the wall.

There wasn’t anything she would think of as remotely modest. The dresses were skintight and lewd. The short skirts were mislabeled belts. The tops had plunging necklines nearly to the belly button. There were even accessories. And with each outfit she saw, Kaycee saw her body presented and displayed, hot as could be, ready to go.

She fought back a whimper.

“Oh, that’s very pretty,” Brianna said, praising Farah. She had settled on a deep burgundy tube that set off her skin fabulously. “I think that comes with matching panties. In case, you know, you have to bend over.”

They both giggled. Kaycee impulsively snatched a black plastic pair of shorts from the shelf. “This,” she announced. “And…. This.” She picked a blue top with a big ribbon. They would at least sort of hide her chest, even if the bow made her look like a teeny-bopper.

Brianna shrugged, unimpressed. “I think I can find a cute thong for --“

“I’m not changing my underwear,” Kaycee said. She challenged Brianna with her eyes. The woman just smiled.

Farah, by contrast, had stripped entirely. Kaycee watched her lightly furred slit wriggle into a silly pair of panties. They had bows along the side, and a kitten sticking its tongue out on the back. Then she started to shimmy into the too-small dress.

Kaycee pulled on her own new pair of shorts. They ended in a stark black line on the top of her thighs, ending a creamy section of leg with an intriguing, shocking black. The zipper was big and obvious, and meant to be pulled off.

“Ah, Kaycee, you’re gonna need that thong,” Brianna said. Her fingernail traced panty outlines on the shorts.

Kaycee gave in. The lines did make her look like a granny. “Fine,” she hissed. “But make sure they’re the same color, at least.”

Farah was in love with her own image. She had found a mirror at the back of the closet/medical supply cabin, and kept running her hands all up and down her figure.

“Do you have any makeup?” she said, hopefully.

Brianna shook her head. “It’s not medically safe.”

Farah wilted.

“…But you can borrow some of my lipstick. It’s approved.”

That helped. The dusky girl poured on the gloss, and smacked her lips together with obvious approval.

Kaycee tried to walk around without cumming.

Farah’s dress was obscene, and if Farah bent over she would cause cars to wreck, but at least it didn’t floss her already-swollen lips with every step. The slick leather pushed up and in, in a very invasive way, and Kaycee’s thong was already sodden with her own juices. The top was better -- it didn’t show off her nubile chest like Farah’s did -- but the bow rubbed against her boobs.

“Ohhh, you two make such good volunteers!” Brianna exclaimed. “Now, just put these shoes on and we’ll go off to cheer up some patients!”

She held up heels, exactly like hers. Kaycee hadn’t walked in heels in… since the same Prom that marked her last sexual experience. They had given her blisters.

“Why heels?” she said, already reaching for them. Of course, there would be a perfectly logical explanation, after all.

“Oh, the patients like to know when we’re coming! That little clickety-clack is like hearing good news on its way!” Brianna said. Kaycee nodded. She was already pulling on the shoes. Farah asked for something with a higher heel.

Kaycee took her turn in the mirror. She didn’t have Farah’s come-hither allure, but with her legs on display Kaycee had to admit that she had something to show off. A bigger bust, a decent rear, and most of all, an hourglass figure with long, flashing legs.

Which was why she was distracted when Brianna reached over and tossed the pink pill into her open, dazed mouth.

“We take antibiotics seriously in the hospital,” she said, severely. Kaycee just nodded, dazed by her own, hot image, and swallowed the pill.

CALVING WELCOME COMMITTEE OFFICIAL MEMORANDUM

Personal attention is key to successful indoctrination and conversion of our lucky Volunteers. And that means opening up not only emotionally, but physically!

Let our Volunteers explore the crevices of your tits, the folds of your pussies, and rub their hands over the delightfully stretched skin of a baby-stuffed tummy -- everyone wins!

11:27 a.m.

“So we’re supposed to massage this cream into those boobs?” Farah said. She had started to itch at her latex-encased tits. Well, not an itch. More of a stroke. And coupled, each time, with a light giggle and squeeze of her newly-shaven thighs together.

Kaycee was trying to get worked up about getting obviously and openly drugged. But the big pink pill had tasted exactly like candy, and it was hard to debate anything that tasted so sugary good.

Besides, her clothes had turned into a massive trial. The thong flossing her slit had managed to wedge itself up against a swollen and overheated clit. It was playing the violin on her pleasure spot each time she took a step.

She was too distracted to pick up on the wet trickle of lubricant down her thighs. After all, it was the exact same temperature as the rest of her, and had to squeeze out of her skintight shorts.

Brianna waited patiently for the girls to focus. This batch was doing unusually well staying coherent. The cutest, most pliable Volunteers simply started to rub their pussies while they talked.

They stood in another hospital room, with the new tile underneath and expensive, subdued lighting overhead. An open window cast brilliant beams of sunlight all over everything.

“Girls, this is Terri,” the nurse announced. She pointed at the half-naked girl on the bed.

Terri gave them a cheerful wave. She was utterly immobile otherwise. Stripped to the waist, the blonde had big rosy cheeks and two plump lips. She also looked like an overturned fertility idol, with two boobs liberally pressed against a huge, pregnant stomach. Kaycee was half-afraid she would burst all over them.

“Twins this time,” Terri said, patting lightly on her belly. She had to reach around the two big boobs to get to it. “Welcome to Calving, girls.” She giggled, and Farah giggled back.

Apparently that was the way girls said hello in Calving.

“Terri here is on her third pregnancy in three years,” Brianna said, proudly.

“I got all tired of standing up,” the girl explained. “So I make sure to stay on my back as much as I can.”

Everyone tittered. Kaycee included. Her head felt wrapped in cotton candy. Fighting the heat of her slit had been bad enough, but now a new sweet haze had climbed inside her foggy mind.

Brianna put a dollop of cream in her hand. “Take the right tit,” she instructed. “Farah, on the left. Then work your way down. I’ll check in on you two soon.”

Both girls took their instructed places on little stools. They were too small, and forced Kaycee to sit with her legs splayed wide. Which meant -- yes, she had a perfect view of Farah’s excited, leaking slit.

She tried to focus on the job at hand.

Terri’s tit was hot, with taut skin and a big, brown aureole. It was the only other boob Kaycee had touched, outside of her own, and the feeling of wet skin-on-skin was intoxicating. Terri moaned, encouragingly, and soon both vinyl-wrapped girls were rubbing white cream on the front, sides, and bottom of Terri’s boobs.

“God, you girls have it just perfect,” Terri said, her eyes closed. She stretched, slow and languid. “Don’t be afraid of my nips, I know they’re a little big. You girls ever think of having kids?”

The question was slipped in the end. Both girls slowed down, suddenly struck by it.

Terri’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You can have big preggo titties like mine, and get waited on hand and foot, and I gotta say, nothing like a big tummy to keep your man around. Or lots of men. They love squirting inside a girl they know is nice and fertile.”

Kaycee’s mind swirled, intoxicated with her own steady burn and drug-addled senses. Babies were pretty cool. And getting fucked bareback sounded nice. She could have boobies even bigger then Farah’s, waddle around like a star.

“Whoopsie, I’m leaking again,” Terri murmured, apologetic. Kaycee blinked. The blonde’s boobs were dribbling milk, down both sides. The sweet scent of new milk filled the room. It reminded her of Ms. Medley.

She shook her head. She needed to get away, to finger herself… no, to escape. To run. To find a guy. No…

“Why don’t you start on my belly?” Terri suggested. That sultry voice dropped low again. “You can have one, just like mine. It’s hard not to get one, just let a boy plug away, fill you up till you drip…”

Kaycee mechanically rubbed cream over Terri’s stomach. It was remarkably well-preserved skin, without any stretch marks or anything. Her belly button had popped out. She could have kids, too. How magical would that be? She was like a big biological factory for making more people. That was hot.

“Oh… geez, girls… you got just…” Terri said. She was having serious troubles keeping her eyes open. Farah, on the other side of the elevated bed, had covered her vinyl dress with cream from stroking at her own boobs.

There was a few minutes of silence, outside of heavy breathing, then Terri began to snore.

Kaycee struggled loose from a long, involved fantasy involving half a dozen men and a face full of boy cream. “Farah!” she whispered, at the intoxicated girl across the bed. “We’ve got to get out of here!” This was… it all made sense, but it was also crazy. She couldn’t think…

Farah lit up with an inane grin.

“Hey,” she whispered back, excited. “Maybe we could, you know, rub this cream over, you know, each other!”

“Farah?” Kaycee said, shocked. The feeling of the cold, creamy stuff over her overheated tits would, of course, feel great… but they had to… rub cream…

Farah wiped a test swipe along the sides of her legs, and started to lower her hand towards the easily accessible area between her legs. Her head lolled back, in anticipation.

Which was when Brianna popped her head through the door.

Farah, panting, kept her hand poised above her spread legs, exasperated.

“Can you come with me, Farah?” Brianna said. “I’d like you to assist the doctor in a position-- procedure I’m involved with. It really needs three people.”

“Sure!” Farah squeaked, obviously disappointed.

She rose up from her stool, leaving a neat puddle of hot lubricant behind her. More droplets fell as she stepped through the door. Heat nearly radiated off her. Kaycee watched a perfect ass trundle through the doorway, and disappear.

For a moment she sat there, one hand still full of white lubricant, open-mouthed and panting. Her soggy thoughts weren’t up to much more but processing and directing fountains of stimuli, directing sex-scented flashes where necessary. Her stomach clenched and unclenched, and she nearly bucked in the stool, getting off on the sheer, absurd eroticism of it all.

Then she realized that, finally, no one else was around.

Except for the sleeping preggo girl (so hot!). And that she could get off.

A hand dashed to her inner thighs. It took Kaycee a few moments of mewling despair before she realized that her shorts were still in the way, and had to be shucked off. The girl squeezed them down inch by inch, helped by the wetness that already stained them. She didn’t bother with the thong, simply inserting three fingers around it, pushing them in deep.

Oversexed, overheated, and desperate for it, her body started to quiver and cum.

Kaycee’s mind was already far away. She was four months pregnant, just starting to bulge in all the right places. Drinking gallons of water just to keep up with the wet drip-drip from between her legs. Practically installed on the kitchen counter, bent over on the marble, like an appliance for her wonderful husband. Any second now he would come home and drill her -- she was so wet and already shaven -- to plug her with his dick…

Kaycee whined. She had both legs pushed back as far as they would go, constrained only by the belt of vinyl at her feet. Her fingers pistoned, spattering flecks of white fluid, rubbing up against a heavy gumball of a clit.

Her body was changing, prompted or prodded by the buckets of hormones in her bloodstream. Heavier, full breasts. Nicely padded ass. A wider, buxom body carefully designed for either breeding or vigorous fucking.

“When’s he coming home?” Kaycee thought, fixated on her fantasy husband. She needed his cock so bad. She couldn’t quite cum without it. She needed it…

“There’s a dildo in the side drawer,” Terri whispered, next to her ear.

Kaycee didn’t have time to spare on surprise and embarrassment. She groped behind herself, opened the drawer, and withdrew a purposeful, large, and heavy pink dildo.

It would be her first penetration. Still, she didn’t bother hesitating, not when inch by inch of reasonably decent cock was within reach. It pushed past the folds of her slit, got caught, and pushed up once more when Kaycee realized she had to withdraw her other fingers first.

The plastic penis did a neat job. Now her hubby was back home, already breathing hard, filling the room with his usual, comfortable musk. He didn’t bother to speak to her when they started to fuck. It was just a few fingers to check her, like a dipstick, then riding her like a bull.

Soon she would be full of his white…. hot… cream…

Kaycee shuddered, screamed at the top of her lungs, and began to collapse.

Terri caught her. With unusual dexterity for a heavily pregnant woman. She grabbed the gyrating teenager, and guided her mouth over to a still-leaking tit.

Half-unconscious, brain deactivated, Kaycee started to suckle milk.