The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Toxoplasma Lactophilia

by Have Her Sleep And Obey

Nicole was in denial when she first felt the cravings.

She was an art student. Staring at breasts was just appreciating their form or studying anatomy. And of course the hunger pangs were just for milkshakes or something totally innocuous like that. Maybe she was finally getting bi-curious! She was in college, right? That’s what was supposed to happen. She couldn’t be...

… T-Lac Positive...

But denying it sounded hollow to herself. Nicole had read enough news stories. She had heard from everyone she knew about the disease. She saw the screening vans and the clinics at the campus health center.

Mentally she ticked off the checklist in her head.

She had a cat. She’d had cats for several years even.

She loved sushi. She never figured herself to be into raw food, but it was just so exotic and mature when she finally did move away from home. She curbed that habit once the reports started coming in of the disease, sure, but that was still something that was a big part of her food choices back then.

She was frugal. But that was just natural for a college student, right? Nicole wasn’t so sure anymore.

But most importantly, she lived on campus.

A flash of breasts straining against the confines of stretched wool sweaters invaded Nicole’s thoughts and she gasped. They were definitely coming closer together now. The thickness of her saliva and the dry feeling in her throat filled Nicole with even more fear.

She had been so careful. She washed her hands and she had given away all her cats. She was watchful not to stay around people that had certain reputations. That was what they told her would be enough! It was supposed to have been all that she needed to do to keep herself clean. She didn’t think she fit the profile. Nicole knew it was prejudiced, but she wasn’t a lesbian going out to dyke clubs every night. How could she have come into contact with T-Lac?

But Nicole knew that was a little lie too. Public service announcements and pamphlets were just there to keep people calm. She browsed the web enough to know that most people thought that T-Lac was spreading everywhere. She even joked about it with her roommates when they heard about cases finally popping up in the Midwest. Ice-cream sundaes or something tasteless like that. T-Lac wasn’t supposed to be able to survive in the cold.

Then she started seeing the pumps. More and more, and with more and more women. Then the clinics started popping up in the poorer neighborhoods, then those even bled out into the city and the suburbs. And when the trucks came on campus? Well, apparently it was a dirty little secret for college girls too.

And now she was one of them.

Nicole stared at the crumpled piece of paper that sat in front of her on her comforter. She had to fish it out from her closet, under ancient freshmen orientation folders and old comedy show fliers. It was something that you never thought you’d need, after all.

Toxoplasma Lactophilia—A protist parasite infected with a specific polyomavirus that induces craving for breast milk in women and heightened sensitivity to the nipples when lactating.

Nicole wasn’t a STEM student, but the language was plain enough. She didn’t care to read the intricacies of the virus, how it was spread or who to call. Her dreams and the way her skin felt like it was constantly on fire was enough to tell her everything she needed. A tiny little bug had hijacked her brain, and now she was going to have a breastmilk fetish till the day she died.

One of Nicole’s friends, one of those STEM majors that she actually had been thinking about, tried to explain the beauty of T-Lac to her once. She had gushed about how it matured in the spinal cord and how it couldn’t be detected or removed because of that. How it made you produce an overload of super-concentrated oxytocin that was more powerful than the regular kind when it finally reached its adult phase and moved to the mammary glands. That was how it made the women infected with it fall in love with each other, she explained. One sip and they’d start bonding to each other permanently in this intricate web of T-Lac girls feeding and needing to be fed in secret. It never really changed the person the girl was before, it just shifted her priorities. It was disturbing how much she admired the creepy little virus.

It didn’t really come as a surprise to Nicole when that particular friend turned out to be a carrier and that health officials swarmed her house a week later. She was caught in an orgy... no, T-Lac girls didn’t have orgies no matter how much the sight of naked women suckling at each other’s breasts and moaning in pleasure might seem like an orgy. It was past sexual pleasure, her friend had told her. Milk was sweet, perfect bliss. Regardless, the mousy little premed that Nicole once knew was replaced by a glowing, confident, busty, petite goddess. Even as Nicole watched the four girls being lead away to a health department van, all topless with milk dripping from their tits, they all seemed calm and collected. The only people they saw were their T-Lac sisters.

Nicole shuddered when she remembered another part of that memory. The long procession of officials gingerly carrying gallon jug after gallon jug of breastmilk from inside the apartment into biohazard units. Who knew what the little sleeper cell of T-Lac girls had planned to do with that stockpile? Maybe they just wanted to bathe in it or drink it all for themselves. But then again, Nicole couldn’t shake the little rumors that T-Lac actually made the girls want to spread the disease. How it rewired their brains to think they were actually doing good for other women. How they just wanted to spread their love and their milk to everyone they knew. Nicole wondered if her friend was thinking of her as one of those women to ‘share’ with too. She probably did, Nicole thought glumly. She probably already had, Nicole realized as she felt the dread of her current situation resurface.

And that’s when she heard the whirring.

Nicole was surprised at first. She thought that everyone would have left for classes by now. Her roommates knew that she was never a morning person and would have thought nothing of her staying in her room while they busied themselves for the day. Nicole was about to dismiss it as more of the T-Lac hallucinations bent on turning her to breast fascination when she heard the sound again, even stronger than before. A sound that was coming from Ginnary’s room.

She didn’t know why she felt the need to look, or why she even kept quiet as she followed the sounds. Still, Nicole crept silently across the hallways and hoped that the carpet and her socks would be enough to muffle her footsteps. And when she heard that soft whimper, Nicole knew that she was right all along about the familiar mechanical sound.

Ginnary had always been a pretty girl. Nicole had asked her before to model for some photos and act as source material for some of her other projects. She knew there was a very pleasing way of the petite redhead’s charming green eyes and pale skin that made Ginnary a good artistic subject. But Nicole’s thoughts never went from more than just appreciation. At least not until today when she peeked through the crack in Ginnary’s doorway.

Ginnary was topless, sitting on her bed. The source of the whirring was definite now as Nicole watched the two little cups collect dewy drops of milk from her roommate’s pink teats. The sight was mesmerizing and Nicole had to fight to listen to the alarms going off in her head.

It was dangerous enough to be so close to Ginnary. If Nicole’s flimsy excuses were in any way right and she wasn’t T-Lac Positive, Ginnary most certainly was and staying around would be a surefire way of catching the bug. And if Nicole did have it, then she better leave before...

… the scent made every thought she had whisper then sleep...

A soft pop came from within Ginnary’s room as the redhead broke the seal around her breast pumps and let the smell of her milk waft through the air. Nicole could still see the red rings and swelling flesh where the pump had sucked at Ginnary’s breasts. And the white drops that still hung on the tips of Ginnary’s nipples where like beacons to Nicole’s enchanted vision. But it was the smell that took hold of her.

Nicole had heard of the “milk haze” as other women had called it. How the scent of their first milk pangs after the virus had matured drove all thoughts away. Nicole had heard about how nobody could resist the urge to suckle once it hit them. She had thought it silly then, and Nicole thought she would find a hidden reserve of willpower to stop herself if she would ever be confronted by that situation.

No. Nicole was just another young girl caught in the fog, coming closer and closer to her milky fate.

She didn’t even notice that she had pushed the door open. And she didn’t care that Ginnary was there, staring at her straight on. Nicole didn’t care about anything but milk now. She didn’t hear a word when Ginnary started talking to her.

“I guess I was right about it being you...” Ginnary remarked, smiling as she opened her arms to the sleepwalking Nicole. Nothing really registered to Nicole at the moment, but she stepped forward anyway, letting Ginnary gently guide her to her knees as her lips were lined up to Ginnary’s nipple.

“... they’re right, you know, about T-Lac making people... a little less than moral.” Ginnary cooed, cupping Nicole’s chin. “It makes us a bit crazy. But only when we need to spread it. It’s not something that you can talk about in polite company.” the redhead went on, taking a finger and capturing one of the drops that still cooled on her nipple.

“You really shouldn’t eat anything that doesn’t have your name on it in the fridge, Nicole.” Ginnary whispered, smearing the liquid on to Nicole’s lips. She savored the way Nicole came to life, how her nose flared and her eyes widened at the taste. Ginnary wondered if she looked the same way when her own sister caught her in her first milk haze.

“Well, this has your name all over it, Nicole. Enjoy.” Ginnary smiled, leaning forward and letting Nicole kiss her wet teat.

The taste was what Nicole would have thought ambrosia to be like, but better. She was addicted to the slick texture of Ginnary’s nipple. Each lick over the small bumps and taught skin brought more and more joy into Nicole’s life and lips.

She suckled greedily, ravenously. Somewhere in her mind she felt the next symptoms of the sickness within her. Nicole felt love for Ginnary blossom in her heart. She loved her roommate deeply now. Ginnary was a sister, a mother, a daughter. Nicole was helpless against the liquid-fire and chemical adoration that she drank in drop by drop from Ginnary.

It wasn’t just the T-lac, of course. Nicole’s mind and senses had been rewired for quite some time now, even before her milk haze. But the physical changes made by the virus was perfect. Hormones that bonded mother and child trickled into Nicole’s body, even more so than in milk of past generations. T-lac had made an elixir of pure devotion now.

Comfort fell over Nicole. Finally she was given satisfaction for her desires. The fatigue of all the worry and the stress was now washed away by Ginnary’s milk, and already Nicole sagged and fell into Ginnary’s soft bossom.

“Oh, poor baby...” Ginnary sighed, still cupping Nicole’s head as she gently guided her away. Nicole struggled for a moment, her eyes beginning to tear at the sudden betrayal. Ginnary just smiled and lead them both to bed, cuddling closer to Nicole as she proffered her other nipple for Nicole to sip from.

All traces of sadness flew away from Nicole and she returned to her bliss, laying back with Ginnary on the soft mattress. Somewhere far away, she heard Ginnary humming a song and she felt hands raising the hem of her shirt above her own chest.

The last sensation that Nicole felt before drifting off to sleep were gentle fingers sliding under her bra to make slow, strangely moist circles around her own nipples. And of course, the warm milk that came pouring from Ginnary.

Sweet, perfect milk...