The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

DAY ONE:

This might be my last week as an undergrad. They’ve cut my scholarship off. I want to scream and break things. More things. I already threw my coffee cup against the wall.

I explained to the Advisor that, yes, I knew you had to maintain a 3.2, and yes, it is written RIGHT THERE in the stupid contract they made me sign. But I’m a bioengineering major, where the average GPA is a 2.9. Why am I being punished for taking risks?

The guy had an enormous pimple on his forehead. He must’ve seen me staring at it the whole time. It probably pissed him off. I’ll bet if I was a blonde with a ginormous rack he would’ve let me slide.

But I’m me.

I even started packing, once I got back to the dorm. But then who showed up, for the first time in weeks?

Crystal.

This time she was wearing a bright blue mini with a lace-up bustier in green. They didn’t even match. I tried not to stare at her boobs.

Anyway, she found me crying in bed. She gave me a huge hug. I nearly suffocated in boob.

I WANTED to say “Crystal, I know you’re my roommate. But we only see you every two-three weeks, you’re always dressed like a whore, and you’re about as smart as those big jiggling things on your chest.”

What I actually did was cry into her cleavage for awhile.

Usually I hate that strawberry perfume she wears. It smells like a greenhouse after a tornado hits it, and she reeks of it. But, I don’t know…

It was kind of comforting, once you got used to it.

She got me to explain my problem.

“Money? I have money!” she said, brightening up. She pulled a twenty dollar bill from between her boobs. Who does that?

If I was as blonde as she was, I’d beat myself to death with my hair dryer.

I explained that I needed a steady income.

“Oh, you should come to where I work!” she said. “The Davidson Lab for Gender Relations! They’re always looking for new research assistants. And they pay a lot! I’ve been working there for, like, six months now.”

And I reluctantly agreed to check it out.

So, two things for today: One, spacey Crystal is a Women’s Studies major, apparently. Two, she keeps dollar bills stuffed between her boobs. What’s up with that?

Hot out today. I’m thinking I’ll forget the pajama top.

DAY TWO:

So, I’m employed. I guess.

The Davidson Lab for Gender Relations has a way too serious name. To start with, the receptionist looks like she’ll pop if you stick a pin in her. She’s got bigger boobs then Crystal, if that’s possible, and wore a gold dress that ended right at mid-thigh. If she ever uncrossed her legs, there was going to be a riot.

Plus, she was as dumb as a hosepipe.

“I’m here to see about a job,” I told her. “Crystal sent me.”

“You’re Crystal?” she said. There was a single, exhausted hamster on that treadmill inside her head. “Isn’t Crystal blonde?” she said.

“No, I’m Molly,” I said, this time slow-ly and careful-ly. “I’m here. About. A job.”

“Oh!” And this time she managed to escort me to the Director’s office. Usually I’d be wondering how she walked in those boots. But I spent most of my trip trying to figure out the Davidson Lab.

It looked like a Science Lab for Playboy Bunnies.

Overstuffed girls with happy smiles, flouncing around in identical heels and short dresses. Or wearing scandalous jean shorts and clutching stuffed animals. Hair was worn long, and there was enough lipstick to paint a battleship.

I found myself wishing I’d put a little on.

A little pink goes a long ways on skin like mine. And I crossed my arms, just to pop the girls up a slight bit. It barely helped. I felt like I was fifteen and getting dressed for Sadie Hawkins.

Still, there was just a… good feeling… in the air. Everyone smiling, everyone happy. Kind of a bouncy, electric feeling. It certainly beat Science Lab.

I was still feeling pretty upset over yesterday, so… it helped.

There was a line of three girls outside the Director’s office. Redhead, Brunette, Blonde. All of them popping out, and all of them staring at fashion magazines. Weird.

The Director had her legs up on the desk, and was sucking on a lollipop. She had lips the size of caterpillars.

“Professor Davidson?” The secretary said. “This is Crystal. Molly sent her to find a job.”

Professor?

This girl looked like a bimbo had crawled into a professor’s dresser. She had the white blouse on, but it was tacked onto her chest. And that skirt was probably illegal in conservative countries. If she slid her legs just a little bit apart I could’ve seen right up her skirt.

She shook my hand. Mine was sweaty. “I’m Professor Davidson. Call me Heather. You need a job, huh?”

“I’m actually Molly,” I corrected. “Crystal sent me here.”

“I know. Crystal is blonde and stacked, and you aren’t,” Heather said, around her lollipop. “Drink of water?”

I nearly walked out right there. Like it wasn’t obvious I was flat. Big deal.

But I was kind of distracted.

It reeked of strawberries in there. It seemed to be coming out of the woodwork, perfuming the entire room.

Honestly, it made it a little hard to think.

Heather must’ve caught my look. “That’s the candle,” she said, pointing at one on her desk. I managed to nod. “Don’t mind it, you get used to it fast.”

Then she pushed the glass into my hand. I sank it in one gulp. It seemed to taste like strawberries, too.

“Molly, how often do you think about sex?” Heather said, settling back down.

“Uh,” I flushed. “Never. Nearly never.”

It seemed like the wrong answer, in front of Heather. But she seemed understanding. I was probably too harsh, on first impressions. She studied sexuality, I could hardly expect a Schoolmom.

“Have another drink,” she prodded. I did. It was really hot in there.

“Here at the Davidson Lab, we study sexuality. All kinds of sexuality. How do you feel about erections?”

I didn’t have an answer to that one. Heather nodded, sadly.

“Nothing, right? They’re just things. Sad things. Pink and easy to manipulate,” Heather said. She had a wedding ring on. “But it used to be that a woman lived her life around a man’s boner. It controlled her world. If he was horny, it was her duty to help him. It knocked her up, it made him aggressive, it determined if he wanted her at all. You see? The modern world has killed erections!”

The strawberry fog seemed to have infiltrated my head. I didn’t do anything but nod and drink water. I had worn a pair of khakis and a t-shirt. They seemed ridiculously underdressed, now.

Heather slid a cardboard box across the table.

“I want you to study male sexual aggressiveness in the wild. Their response to female sexuality. I’m paying seventy-five dollars per observation, and there’ll be five-hundred a week base salary.”

I didn’t know what to say. That was far more money then even my scholarship. I think I must’ve nodded. She had let her legs slide apart. I could see right up to her panties. Heather didn’t seem to care.

And that was it. Except that the strawberry seems to have followed me home. Alicia, my other roommate, has been complaining about it. My clothes are perfumed with it.

There was five hundred dollars in that box.

Anyway, it’s time for bed. I really should put a top on. The girls are starting to itch.

DAY THREE

I’ve made a big mistake.

This morning I looked in the mirror. In the reflection: Molly Taylor. Twenty-two, stringy brown hair, body like a ruler with slightly bumpy numbering. Second in her High School class, founding member of the University Math Club. Wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

NOT, in other words, some anthropological walking boob job studying boners. So I put the box underneath my chair and went to class. The plan was to return it after school.

That was my first mistake. I just couldn’t concentrate on covariance this and matrix-that. After the break I even switched to the back row.

There, I just watched the boys.

Heather was right. They look silly. Big glasses, intense looks at the board.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that each and every one of them was worth $75.

Then, on my way home, I stopped by the student store. That was my second mistake.

They had a sale going on for cute tops, these red and black things made out of lycra. My entire wardrobe is cotton or cotton-blend.

I couldn’t stop myself. It was just too adorable. I found myself at the counter, digging out part of the $500, and handing it over. So much for returning the money. Now I have to go through with this? And the top doesn’t even fit me. It was made for a girl with a chest.

Where does that strawberry smell keep coming from?

DAY FOUR

I’ve been totally humiliated and I’ve made two hundred and fifty-dollars in one day. It’s really confusing.

That weird strawberry smell is still clinging to me, even after I showered and changed. I picked an outfit out I never wear, from the back of the closet, to see if that’d help. This cute khaki skirt I’d forgotten about. And a blue collared shirt that fits me really well. Really, really well. The twosome were popping.

I have to admit, I felt good. I had money, I looked good, I had a job.

I couldn’t stop smiling.

The instructions told me to find a bunch of boys. That wasn’t hard. I just went back to the Science quad. Wall to wall boys. A lot of them gave me weird looks. I guess I usually do just show up in jeans and a t-shirt. Instead of a skirt.

And a nice pair of heels.

And some makeup. I don’t know, it just felt good. Thick and stuff.

Mitchell was in the biolab, like I expected. I think I mentioned him before, Dear Diary. Six foot two, glasses as thick as oreos. But he was kind of good-looking, in a nerdy sort of way, so I figured he’d be perfect for a… trial run.

“Mitchell, can you help me with something?” I said, and raised my eyebrows.

“I don’t know, I’ve got to—“ he was staring at a test tube. I stuck my pinkie in my mouth and swiveled on my heels. I was feeling really… girly.

“Pleeeeease?”

This time he agreed, no problem. Wow. Bodies are powerful.

I wish I had actually read the questions before I started to ask them.

Question one. How much time in a day do you spend thinking about girls?

Mitchell: still smiling. Answer: maybe a half-hour.

Question two, and this is where I started to blush. What parts of the girl do you find most attractive? Then there was a long list of very personal body parts, plus a few I didn’t even know about.

Mitchell: blushing. Answer: her personality, her mind, her sense of humor.

It was starting to get really warm in that room. And that damn strawberry followed me, too. It made things really… heated.

Question three-A: If you answered mind or personality, please rank the following parts of a girl on a scale of 1 to 10. Breasts. Ass. Lips. Nipples. Vagina.

This is where Mitchell interrupted me.

“Molly, what the hell is this?” he said, breathing hard. So was I. My boobs were feeling really tight in the bra.

“Lets just… get through this, okay?” I pleaded. Visions of dollar bills danced through my head. “One through ten.”

Anyway, Mitchell is an ass-man.

Nine for a girl’s butt, seven for the boobs, six for lips, and—here I was downright humiliated—“declined to state” for the vagina. I kept shifting my legs back and forth.

I had to ask him if he preferred oral, anal, or missionary. “And if not, why not?”

I was just dripping with sweat by that point. I couldn’t help but notice that Mitchell had an aching erection.

It was big. My cheeks were burning.

He looked me straight in the eyes. “Oral,” he said. “Happy?”

“Very,” I squeaked. My legs felt like dog toys. I don’t know how I staggered out of the room. The whole lab smelled like strawberries.

Then I did the same thing with three more boys.

At least the cardboard box came with a bottle of water. I was sweating the whole time.

But the really humiliating part came at the end.

I had just done the last interview—Boobman and Missionary—and made my way to the ladies’ room. It was always deserted in the science buildings.

My boobs were aching. They looked swollen and engorged, and my old bra wasn’t doing the job. I just took it off and let them breathe.That’s when I noticed it.

A big ‘ol wet stain on the center of my skirt.

I had leaked. All those hours sitting alone with boys, smelling strawberries, had gotten my motor running something fierce. The last interviewee must’ve seen it all.

Anyway, that’s why I walked home braless, with one hand over my skirt, and horny as hell.

But two-hundred and fifty dollars richer.

DAY FIVE

I think this experiment thingee is starting to mess with my head.

I dropped off the experiment results to the Davidson Lab. It was still shimmering with sexy girls, with nice rear ends and these big boobs. I kind of have a nice ass, I think. I mean, maybe that was what Mitchell was trying to say, that he liked my ass. It’s got to be better then my tits, at least

More about my boobs later.

This time there was this Chinese girl behind the front desk. She had this adorable sparkly lipstick on, and a bright red tunic with all these unnecessary buttons, and she had white heels. Plus a huge bubbly smile. I just had to smile back. Also the strawberries were in the air.

“Hi, I’m Jenny!” she sparkled. She had a smile so wide you could drive a car along it.

“Here’s your instructions for Day Two… and your cash,” she said, handing over the envelope. It was really thick. I nearly jumped for joy, but it’s hard to do in heels.

This time I read the instructions.

“No way,” I said, backing away on shaky knees. “Not a chance.”

I’ll just type them in here:

Question One: How much time do you spend thinking about girls? (Smile, present chest. Two inch cleavage minimum for testing purposes).

Question Three: What parts of the girl do you find most attractive? (Allow time for demonstration. Smile. Show off as instructed).

“You want me to shake my ass for guys?” I said. My boobs tingled in the new bra. The swelling had gotten worse. Overnight.

Jenny handed over a sheet of paper. Apparently I wasn’t the first to ask.

It read “Frequently Asked Questions: Why am I showing off my boobs?

Answer: “At the Davidson Lab, we don’t believe that girls should be ashamed of their bodies! Girls should be able to say: I’m pretty enough and confident enough to let boys know that those things on my chest are tits, and that’s okay!”

“Not doing it,” I stammered. “No chance.”

“Payment is doubled for these results,” Jenny said.

Dear Diary, one hundred fifty-dollars is a lot of money to let a boy admire your chest! Especially one like mine. With Jenny’s you could see her nipples through her shirt. They were really pointy and hard.

I tried to argue back, but the words weren’t there. Just this happy, warm feeling. Jenny kept smiling at me, sucking on her finger.

“Miss Molly?” she said, as I snatched the box and turned to go. She surveyed my outfit. I thought it was cute, but up against her it looked like a nun’s habit. “Try harder. For the boys. They deserve it.”

So I took my hard-earned two hundred and fifty dollars and blew the entire thing on clothes.

I had already gone in for a new bra, to fit the girls while they were going through this puffy phase. At first I was thinking jean skirt and skimpy top, pretty standard stuff.

But god, they have sooo much sexy stuff down at the mall, once you actually start to look. Shorts that really hug your ass, show off your charms, and in dark black jean in case you have a leak problem. Cute dresses with red piping that make even itty-bitty boobs look halfway decent.

I probably shouldn’t’ve spent all that money on the boots, though. Although boots are hot.

This time, when I walked onto campus, I was smoking. Guys were staring, and honestly, I was loving it. There’s just something electric about the way they stare at your boobs, and then, once they pass, you KNOW those eyes are locked right onto your ass.

Turned out there’s a pretty darn good looking girl underneath all those books!

Mitchell was in the same room, still looking at boring slides. I’m pretty sure he got a boner within the first few minutes of me sitting down. I took my time.

Then I started to get nervous. But here’s the really funny thing, Dear Diary. His answers WERE different! The Lab was right!

He fantasized about girls for at least an hour a day. And when I asked him, he admitted that these weren’t romantic or anything like that. They were guy fantasies—long, sweaty fuck-fantasies where the girl barely has a face. Just a pair of tits and a pair of lips.

I mean, that’s not what he said. He’s really polite. But you could tell he was thinking it.

Mitch wasn’t sure about the whole modeling thing, but the instructions were explicit. I couldn’t lie about it. That wouldn’t be scientific and stuff. I thrust my chest out and let him look for a very long time. The swelling made them extremely noticeable.

I thought I would explode from the embarrassment.

He said he thought it was great! “At least a nine.”

A nine! I nearly squealed. I’ve never been a nine on anything!

Then came the part I wasn’t sure about. But the instructions were really insistent. I had to bend over the chair, displaying my ass, and ask him to rate it. Honestly, I wasn’t going to do it when I first read it. I was just going to make up an answer.

But he was being so nice, and he had answered all my questions, and I had this warm tingling feeling…

So I bent over, my face burning red, and let him have a good look at my rear. Dark black jean shorts, nice smooth tan legs. Plus the boots. He could probably hear my heart beating. I’ll bet a guy like him gets to stare at all the butts he wants.

But Diary, guess what:

I’m a ten! Really a ten, he said! And he wasn’t lying, you could tell. Not with a boner like that.

I wanted to cheer.

I guess I doubted the experiment. But it’s true. Get them alone, show them a little leg, and the real man comes out. A guy that doesn’t tell you it’s all about personality and mind. He wants a girl with a hot pair of boobs, who isn’t afraid to shake them.

I… kind of had to visit the bathroom. The wetness problem is getting worse. So I decided to try a little empowerment, and stuck a finger down there.

It felt so good.

And a hand on the boobies didn’t hurt, either. There I was, Dear Diary, fingering myself in the girl’s bathroom, in the middle of the school day, grinning like a cat and wearing sexy new clothes.

And I made fifteen-hundred dollars for the chance to do so.

DAY SIX:

I stubbed my toe in the bathroom, just now. Just a week ago I would’ve cursed and complained. Now I just shrug it off and giggle.

I think it’s all because of the Experiment.

I mean, the whole reason I was in the bathroom was to try and measure my boobs. My titties are starting to get fat. They’re getting heavier and bigger, and when I try on some of my old clothes, they totally don’t fit right. Plus the cotton makes them itchy unless I rub them with cream.

It’s a lot of fun to rub them with cream.

I ran into Alicia this morning. My other roommate. I was trying on a new outfit—these plaid shorts that are ruffled and skirt-y at the same time, plus a new bra. She gave me a weird look and asked if I was feeling okay.

I told her I was doing great.

Then she asked why, if I’m doing so good, I wasn’t at Chem Lab for the second day in a row.

I had completely forgotten! Between working for the Lab and going shopping and, um, taking care of the wetness problem I’ve gotten super-spacey.

This time I ran down to the Science buildings so that I wouldn’t miss math class, at least. But the sun was so warm and nice, I kind of ended up just walking around campus, admiring my legs and working on walking in heels. It’s really hard if you don’t do it right.

Honestly I probably should see a doctor about my boobs. They’ve gotten real big really fast. I used to be a bee-sting girl, just about enough cleavage to stick two nipples on. Now they’re getting heavy. I’ve had to relearn walking all over again.

Plus they feel great… I’ve got this trick where I rub them together, and the nipples touch each other, and then when they’re all sweaty I get my fingers wet and…

..back now, Dear Diary. I had to take a break. I wonder if the strawberry-ness has something to do with my boobs. Because it smells really strongly when I’m touching them, you know?

Gotta get back to the experiment tomorrow. I blew all of yesterday’s money on more fun clothes. I’m making sure to buy things that don’t have a lot of fabric, so they’re cheaper.

DAY SIX

It’s getting so hard to think about stuff. I mean, none-sex stuff.

I sit there, and I open a math book, and I think “oh boy, numbers.” Then I try and do some problems and, you know, I can do them, but they’re so boring. So then I start doing Chemistry, but that reminds me of Mitchell, and I just stare into space and soak my panties. I keep thinking about sweaty, sexy boys with long, stiff dicks. All the time.

Oh my god, Mitch! Dear Diary, you won’t believe this.

Mitch spread the word about my Experiment to the guys in his Fraternity. It’s a nerd frat, I’ve been there before to play video games. So I had about six or eight or eleven guys to interview today, all in a row. Ca-ching.

For the first seven I wore my yellow skirt and the halter top with the ducky on it. Guys don’t seem to notice when I soak through, probably because I’m all about boobs these days, so I’ve basically stopped caring about it.

I was getting a lot of 9s and 10s, so I was feeling really good about myself.

About number eight I felt confident enough to slip into this new thing I got. I think Crystal shops there. It’s a dress, made especially for girls with enough boob to pull it off, and it’s all red. I had the eighth boy turn around while I put it on.

Straight tens from boy eight!!!

Mitch was number eleven.

“Mitch,” I said, “I already did you! You can’t go again!”

He put a chair between us. “Molly, what’s going on with you?” he said, and he looked pretty sad. “You’re acting weird. Really weird. I thought we were flirting, but c’mon, every guy…”

“They all said I was a ten!” I said, proud as anything. I thought he would be too. Wrong. Just when you think you get guys...

“You’re acting like a five,” he said, and shook his head.

I felt like I was going to collapse. A five? Even in the new dress?

“Wait, a five?” I said, frantic. “What if I do this?” I pushed my boobs together and kneaded them. The room was already strawberry-tastic.

“No, look…”

This time I tried the bending over trick, again. Except this time I took the time to slowly slide my underwear over my rear end. “Are you sure?” I said, looking at him. He had to see me oozing. Guys liked that, right?

I turned around and wiggled my ass a few more times.

“Oh, geez, Molly,” he said, and took a few steps forward. I had an idea about what was coming, so I was able to grab hold of a chair and brace myself.

A ten like myself has to know what to do!

First I heard his zipper go down, then his pants, and then a big red penis started rubbing against my ass. Mitch was really cute. I was wet like anything, but he had no idea what to do. He just started rubbing. I finally had to guide him in. THEN he figured out what to do.

It was so good it was kind of scary.

My whole body kind of wrapped itself around his cock. Like, he would slide in, and I could feel it in my toes. And my tits. Definitely in my tits. Then he would slide out, and my brain would just explode with happiness. Even the sounds—shlick shlick!—made me horny.

For ten minutes or so my world was his dick. By the end I was just a big, quivering lump of boobs and pussy, pushing back at him. When he came I fell onto the chair and just sat there, a big juicy mess.

That’s when I found out where the strawberries were coming from. From me. I just had to have a lick of my juices.

This has to stop. I’m quitting tomorrow.

DAY SEVEN:

I really, really tried to quit my job today.

First I went to class. My boobies were even bigger, so I had to strap them in with a new bra. I wore one of my old t-shirts with jeans, but it didn’t help. They pull at them now, and everyone can see cleavage and my midriff.

I couldn’t pay attention at all, during class. Too many boys. Too many delicious, darling things between their legs. Mitch was in class, and he winked at me. I creamed in my chair. There was a puddle when I left.

I don’t even know what the lecture was about. Math. I guess.

Then I went to the Davidson Lab. Following a girl in a pink skirt, and two redheads arm-in-arm.

They all had that wet patch between their legs, and they all smelled like strawberries.

What’s going on with those strawberries??

I didn’t even stop at the receptionist. I just stomped to the Director’s room, past all the bunnies, and tossed open the door.

Professor Davidson was giving wet, slurping head to some guy. He had brown hair and an enormous cock, from what I could see around her lips. She barely looked around at me before starting up again.

I couldn’t even think, there were so many strawberries. They kept popping my thoughts! I need to—pop pop. This is crazy—pop pop. Pop pop! All the time!

I’m touching myself now, just to calm down.

I don’t know how she talked with that monster in her mouth. “Please sit down, Molly,” she said.

And I did.

Then I watched her slide that tool up and down her mouth. You could see it in her throat. She was touching herself with her free hand.

I looked down. I was touching myself, too. My hand was wriggling on the outside of my jeans. I tried to stop it, but it didn’t want to. Plus it felt really good. The guy didn’t seem to mind.

He grunted, just once, to let her know he was coming. I don’t know how she swallowed it all. It looked like a milkshake. My hand started undoing buttons.

I finally put my head together when the guy zipped up and left. Heather sank into a chair and licked at her hand.

“What are you doing?” I managed. “This place, what’s going on? With the strawberries… and the sex… and… you’re up to something, aren’t you?”

“You mean, why am I orally pleasuring my husband behind a closed door?” she said, pointedly.

Her husband?

Oh man. Suddenly I was the bad guy. I struggled to think past the pink fog. My tits glowed.

“But… my boobs! What did you do to my boobs?”

I showed them off, stripping off my shirt. Surely she had to agree that…

“What about them? Don’t you like your body?” Heather said. She scooted her chair over and put her cum-covered hands on them. It felt good. “Here at the Davidson Lab, we want women to enjoy their bodies.”

“Well… yeah…” I had to admit. Her hands dug into my nipples. It was distracting. “But they’re bigger. Lots bigger. I have big boobies now.”

I started to moan, a little. She let up. I wish she hadn’t.

“Plus… I had sex. With a boy!” I said. “I made him cum in me!”

“And how did that feel?” Heather prompted. She read the answer in my eyes. “Amazing, right? Astounding.”

“Yes!”

“In that case,” the overstacked girl said. “It’s time we moved you up to Phase 3. There’s an additional questionnaire for each boy you interview.”

She picked up a stack from her desk. They were bright pink. “One hundred dollars for each completed survey,” she said, plomping them on my lap.

I stumbled out of there. She squeezed my ass on the way through the door. I had to lean against the doorframe, it felt so good.

I barely made it to the bathroom before I stuck two fingers onto my clit and banged away. The whole time I was thinking about Mitch’s delicious thrusts.

Here’s what the questionnaire says:

1. “Where did the boy come? (Mouth/Pussy/Tits)”
2. “How did it feel on a scale from one to ten thousand?”
3. “What did you like about it?”
4. “Where were you touching yourself when you came?”

And on and on. Just reading got me turned on.

I sniffed the questionnaire. It smells like strawberries too. Why is everything so confusing?

DAY EIGHT

Today I sat in the back of class and touched myself. I don’t think the Professor could see, because I was way in the very back, and my hand was kind of hidden underneath the table. Plus I was wearing a new pink mini with red silk panties.

I couldn’t even see. My melons get in the way. My big, glowing, boobies.

My hips are bigger, too.

But the boy next to me could. He was kind of cute, all the really cute guys sit in the back. He had blonde hair. When class was half over I took him to the bathroom and gave him a blowjob.

Dicks smell weird. Kind of musky and hot, like an animal. It wasn’t really a good smell, but I loved it. More then anything!! I sucked him so hard he came right away. I tried to swallow as much as I could, but I guess that takes practice.

After that I touched myself in the girl’s room for awhile. I tried to fill out the pink questionnaire but it’s kind of hard when you’re feeling spacey and bubbly. I ended up just circling answers and writing in “ten-thousand!” for every question.

I made two hundred dollars in that bathroom!!

After that I went and found Mitchie. He liked staring at my tits, so I stripped off my shirt right away and let them bounce around. They’re so big! They ride real high and my nipples point per-pen-dicular to everything. I can put them in my mouth, too, which is nice.

I gave him a titty-fuck so I could lick at his cock every so often.

I mean, yeah, it’s true that my pussy wants to get fucked, but cocks are so fun when you look at them. So stiff and hard. And then they squirt stuff. Mitch has a very large one that dribbles almost right away when you kiss it.

I don’t know if it counts for the money if he comes more then once, I should check.

DAY NINE:

So today I was in my dorm room with Alicia and Crystal trying not to touch myself and to do math. It was hard. I kept drawing cocks all over my paper because I like them. My pussy was drippy as usual and my nipples were hard. I was touching them with my other hand.

Finally Alicia heard me moan. She came over and put her hands on her hips.

“Molly what is wrong with you??” she said. I used to think she was cool but she’s got tiny boobs. “You’re acting like a complete slut! And what’s with you using Crystal’s perfume?”

I had to smile because the strawberries aren’t in any perfume they’re in my slit. I figured that out a few days ago.

I had to admit she was right tho. I’m spending all my time getting fucked and skipping class and buying clothes. I was wearing white nylon stockings and even though they were cute I looked kind of like a whore. All my money was going into heels.

I started to cry again, all over my boobies. Then I hugged Alicia and told her she was right and that I was having money problems. I told her that yeah things have been weird but that I would be a good girl from now on.

Then Crystal interve—got up.

“Leave Molly alone,” she said, to Alicia. “She’s making money and making friends. That’s a lot more then you can say.”

Alicia just looked dumb. Probably because it was really strawberry with us two girls right in front of her.

“Look at Molly, if she was a slut she’d have the painted nails, and the waxed pussy, and the blonde hair. She doesn’t have any of that!”

It was true. And it was kind of embarrassing too, I guess I must’ve flashed her when I was walking around naked in the dorm yesterday. I want to shave but it’s scary with the razor.

“Yeah, but…” Alicia said. Then she trailed off, and started to suck on her finger, all confused. I knew how she felt.

“C’mon, Molly,” Crystal said. “Lets go to the mall.”

I knew I should be working on my homework but the mall is always a good time, so I went with her.

“Where are you going for the parties tomorrow?” she asked me. “The big frat parties. You can make a lot of money in one night, like thousands of dollars.”

I did the math in my head while we drove. Even at two hundred a guy thousands meant lots and lots of cocks. Big warm drippy dicks. It made me ooze up but it was also kind of scary, that many penises at once. They were so hard and strong.

“I can’t do that!” I said. Although I did know a fraternity. Mitchie’s.

“Not looking like that!” Crystal said. “Lets go get you perfect. We’re going to make you into a twelve.”

I couldn’t help it—a twelve! I started masturbating right in Crystal’s car!! She just looked at me and laughed and said to not stain the leather. But I did anyways.

I don’t know how much money we spent I just opened my purse and let them take what they needed. Crystal taught me how to get things for free when there’s a guy on duty. You just interview him. It’s really funny because you’re actually making money by doing the survey!

When we were all done Crystal told me to get in the backseat. I didn’t understand why until she came in with me and started touching my pussy. I wasn’t sure about it because I wasn’t getting paid and it wasn’t for the experiment, but it felt really good so I went with it. It’s funny when a girl touches you, it feels good but it’s not like a cock. Cocks are amazing. Wherever I look I see them.

Oh lol when we got back we caught Alicia touching herself! She was so embarrassed it was adorable.

DAY TEN:

Ohmigod I made so much money it’s crazy. I’m still dribbling like out of every hole the boys were so good to me.

When I got to fraternity row all the boys wanted me to go to their frats. It was nice to see them yelling at me because it meant they liked me body. I thought about going and I got all strawberry-juicy but I decided to go to Mitch’s frat.

I know I’ve been there before but I’ve been such a ditz lately, I got really lost.

Finally I went up to a house to ask directions. I asked if this was Theta Mu and they said that it was, so I should come in.

It looked different but I figured I’ve been such a girl lately it was probably me not remembering.

Anyway there were like five or six guys and we were just talking in the living room. One of them got me a glass of something cold, which was really sweet.

I guess it was my fault with my tits hanging out but we started talking about sex. All the guys said that they thought I looked really pretty. I wasn’t sure about the blonde look but Crystal talked me into it yesterday, she said boys loved blondes and that it would look good on me. It’s pretty fake but the boys said it looked good. They liked the new nails too.

One of them realized I wasn’t wearing any underwear. His eyes got real big! I let him have a better look because he gave me the drink. I don’t think underwear makes sense when you drip a lot.

The room started to get all strawberry again.

I asked where Mitch was, and one of the guys was like “Uh, Mitch? Who is Mitch?”

That’s when I realized: this was the wrong house!!

I tried to get up to leave, but I was kind of woozy with the drink and the strawberries in my head, so I nearly fell over. Then my boobies fell out. I had on this pink top that matched my hair, it didn’t do a good job with the titties though.

The boys were really nice, though, they helped me sit back down. Then one of them started rubbing my titties, and then another did.

I started moaning. I wanted to tell them to stop, but it felt good. It wasn’t really their fault, guys get so hard when strawberries are around.

One of them took their cock out.

I guess I couldn’t help myself. No girls can around a big, hard dick. It’s like when you’re in a tunnel and all you can see is the light part. Except the light part is a cock. They get hard and drippy and all I can think about is sucking one or maybe putting one in my pussy.

Vodka boy put his hand up my skirt to feel around, and I let him do that while I leaned forward to suck on that cock. Then I guess I must’ve slipped, because my knees were on the floor, and another cock was pushing behind me.

My boobies are so amazing now, they have big nipples and they feel good all over, not just on the part with the nipples. I had like three guys touching them at once.

I sort of stopped thinking for awhile. There was a cock in my throat and one other up my cunt, and I was happy. Some of the guys started arguing about things, and I didn’t like that, so I used my hands too. I was making tons of money with four guys at once.

I don’t know if it counts if a guy jacks off onto me because I don’t touch him. I will ask Crystal.

When they were all done I just sat there and dripped for awhile, sucking on a finger. I felt so happy. Then I asked the boys to fill out the questionnaires for me, and they did that. Then we fucked some more.

I never made it to Mitch’s frat, but I guess I can go tomorrow.

I hope Heather doesn’t mind that the questionnaires are sticky.

DAY THIRTY:

OMG I completely forgot about you Dear Diary!

So lets see what have I been up to.

I dropped out of school anyway, just for the semester, to make lots of money. Crystal dropped out too, she had a great idea. We’re going to be a Dance Group! Me and Crystal and Alicia. We’re going to call ourselves the Strawberry Girls.

Oh yeah Alicia got big titties too. A couple days after she got mad at me we got her to come see Heather. By the time she got home she was so horny, we both took turns putting our fingers in her and making her come. Plus she has really big lips now, we’re going to call her Lips. Crystal is Legs.

I’m going to be Boobs because of my boobs.

Heather said she’s never seen anyone so into the Experiment as me, and that maybe I should slow down a little bit. I told her she was so right about cocks. They’re so amazing and powerful. When there’s one around all I want to do is make it happy, LOL!

Mitch was really mad when I showed up the next day after the Frat Party, I guess because I was still sticky? Anyway since then I’ve tried hard to make him happy. For his birthday I gave him a remote control. I keep the vibrator it’s attached to up my pussy, and he can play with me whenever.

Also his dick is bigger too, he says it’s the strawberries. He’s got the three of us booked at our first dance club, it’s really exciting.

Mmmm…. Diary, did you know that you smell like strawberries?

I gotta go!