The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

AgraRipe

FRIDAY

It was past midnight, but the bimbos were hard at work.

There was much to be done. Mountains of trash had to be taken out—a landfill’s worth of plastic candy wrappers, endless cupcake crumbs, associated bakery cups, water bottle after water bottle, cum rags, discarded underpants, and various other things. They went through each office with cheerful determination, in their AgraRipe t-shirts and cutoff shorts, smiling even as the clock ticked towards one. Scrubbing body fluids off of things, licking and sniffing their fingers.

The trucks arrived around one. White trucks with no name on them, driven by big men with huge, hairy forearms. They unloaded big stacks of cardboard boxes with all sorts of necessary sundries. The huge piles of chocolates and sugary treats, the brand new water bottles, filled to the brim with mostly water, the bags of coffee in unmarked bags. And, since things were moving along just fine, there were new boxes, with slightly scented clothing and black electronics and a big vat of pink dildos of enormous size.

There were a few things taken out, besides trash. Some girls had overdosed on cupcakes or were just responding poorly to having their systems flooded with fuck drugs. They were taken, dripping milk and lubricant, and gently placed in the trucks, and driven off somewhere else.

Lydia watched two of the men install a sound system. They both wore dark blue jeans and work shirts with the sleeves rolled up. They eyed her, an unfamiliar woman, still dressed in dark clothing with her hair done up and her makeup perfect. They could sniff and smell her, of course, it wasn’t like she wasn’t achingly aroused, but the contrast with her still-prim look was so confusing they just concentrated on putting in the new company tunes.

Another man walked past holding a bunch of blow up air mattresses. And a fourth walked by holding Amber, from programming, who was cooing in his ear and giggling, buck naked.

Lydia decided to return to her office. She could tell the batteries in her vibrator were starting to go. Cheap piece of shit, only good for three hours on max-power. She considered adding a second one in there, at the same time.

That seemed excessive.

Her secretary was still at her desk, a total mess.

Kay had her legs up on the desk. Her pussy was pointed straight at the door, and was the first thing Lydia saw when she walked in. The young woman was rubbing at it, not particularly hard, but constantly.

“Kay?” Lydia said, not surprised.

Kay didn’t respond. She stared at her computer monitor. Somehow she had been re-dressed into a standard AgraRipe Girl outfit, a pink t-shirt that accommodated two big tits, and a denim mini with no panties, and four-inch clear heels that matched the desk. Her hair was pure blonde.

Lydia walked closer. Still no response.

The girl was a sugary, sexy mess.

There were crumbs all around her, like an ash field. Empty boxes of all kind littered the ground on every side, including an overflowing trash can. There were candy wrappers and juice boxes and any number of water bottles and so many cupcake wrappers they layered on top of each other. Kay’s mouth was ringed with bright shiny sugar, hardened. Her hair was blonde, yes, but also whiter then it would otherwise be, with streaks of powdered sugar. Pink frosting streaked her lap.

There was a method to her masturbation, Lydia noticed. Rub rub rub on her too-pink pussy, then lick lick lick that hand free, while the other hand dipped down to her love nest. Lydia carefully dipped her finger in and sniffed the juice. Like dissolved cotton candy.

A worker came by. “We’re taking this one,” he told her, his voice callused and rough. “She’s overboard.”

“No… no, I’ll hold on to her,” Lydia said. The man stiffened, shocked at being contradicted by a female, but experienced enough to hold on to his anger.

“She’s leaking,” the man said, severely. He grabbed a tit and squeezed. Kay meeped, her eyes wide, and a spray of milk soaked the t-shirt. She looked around, confused, and then her eyes re-settled on the monitor.

Lydia risked a look. Kay was watching her usual computer desktop. The monitor flickered and flickered. Lydia looked away.

“Be that as it may, she’s still my secretary,” Lydia said. She arched an eyebrow at the man. He shrugged. He had orders. Whatever.

“Kay, come here for a second,” Lydia said. She took the woman’s gummy, sticky hand, and helped her up. Kay tittered. “Oh.. hi Lydia,” she said, smiling. Her tongue was as pink as a cupcake. Lydia fought back a shiver of anticipation. “What’s up? What’s going on? Why is my shirt all wet?”

“Come in here,” Lydia said, ushering Kay into her office. It was obviously askew. Probably Myra, poking around.

“Okay, now kneel underneath my desk,” Kay complied, cheerfully. Lydia shut the door. She pulled down her skirt, then her bright white panties. A neatly shaven snatch presented itself to Kay. She stared at it with mild interest.

“Hold on a moment,” Lydia said. She reached inside herself, and pulled out twelve inches of vibrating black cock. It was clearly losing power. Cheap piece of shit. She turned it off, then settled herself into the chair. She pulled up until her slit was right next to Kay’s face. Kay waited, patient.

“Now, lick,” Lydia said.

Moments later, a sandy, enthusiastic tongue started to work at her clit. Lydia allowed herself a sigh. What it lacked in pure force it made up for with vigor. Lydia turned on her computer, and returned to work.

* * *

The social situation at Building 2, early A.M., was… complex.

The lobby was a big atrium, just like in Building 1, with a few leather couches and big tables groaning with sugary carbohydrates and vats of lukewarm coffee. There was a girl passed out on one of them, her panties exposed, her legs splayed out, a ring of cupcake around her lips, shirt damp with milk. Everyone ignored her.

What was new was the cheerful sound system bleeping in the background, playing some sort of chipper pop-rock. The tune was catchy, if really simple, just a few repeating chords. And the same song had been playing for, what, twenty minutes? Something like that. It droned on just beneath Holly’s notice.

“Lukey,” she suggested, “maybe we should just go upstairs? Honey?”

She was his First and felt like it was her right to make suggestions. Katherine and Melody were 2 and 3, respectively, and Melody was still protesting that she was totally a lesbian, so she barely counted. Pretty sad lesbian, sucking Luke’s cock until two in the morning, jizz still in her hair.

“Soon, girls,” Luke said, placating. His neck was too big for his shirt and tie. He was a rippling mass of muscles underneath that suit. It was a huge turn-on and Holly didn’t mind sticking close to him, to his wonderful cock, to the warm fuzzies she got from his scent. And he had brought the three of them a big plate of cupcakes and eclairs and donuts to share, moving quickly, so they wouldn’t be exposed to predators.

All of the men—were there fewer? Seemed like there were fewer—were wary, dressed formally, and sticking close to their respective girls. Most protective were the junior testers and programmers, with maybe one girl huddled close by, one hand wrapped around her tits. Those girls were the ones making eyes at the real men, dressed in halter tops and compression shorts and high heels, whatever was skimpy. Holly felt bad for them. One little dick to work with. Sad.

The boys exchanged tight, strange smiles whenever they got too close to each other. Occasionally they shook hands, squeezing so tight that the whole room could hear the cracks.

Saddest of all were the single men, huddled in a corner, tiny and dressed in polo shirts and staring sadly at the rear ends on display, at the wagging asses and enormous breasts denied to them. They munched on pink cupcakes and pulled at loose-fitting shirts, aimless and lethargic.

A fight broke out. The fifth one so far this morning. Dallas had somehow acquired both Kelly and one of the AgraRipe girls despite topping out at 5′7″ and being totally bald. Ian, who had frat-boy looks but just one girl, simply swung on him as he passed by, letting his tray of fried dough fall to the ground. All eyes turned to them. Holly licked her lips. She felt a trickle of lubricant make its way down her thighs. Fights were horny.

Dallas grabbed Ian’s arm, stared him briefly in the eyes, and shifted his weight. It was obvious he knew how to fight. He turned his back and wrenched, wrapping Ian around his torso, and every girl in the room watched his shirt buttons strain.

Ian’s arm broke. The crack was louder than the empty twang of the endlessly repeating pop song. Ian’s face went stark white.

Dallas kicked him in the balls.

Luke’s arm clenched around her. Holly snuggled into it. She had earned her number one status. Luke had dumped at least three loads into her last night, while Katherine got just one and Melody had been held to blowjob and cleanup duty, protesting all the while that she was “happy with this because who needs dick.” Holly could still feel his spooge in her. And then she had taken the initiative, woken him up with a three-girl blowjob, and directed traffic as he got his morning fucks out of the way. While Melody cooked a terrible, inedible breakfast with shit coffee.

Still, Dallas. Wow.

“Everyone, I have an announcement,” a voice said.

An extremely tall, massively built, and incredibly handsome man strode in to the atrium.

“I have reason to believe that everyone here is—hey! Hands off! I’m trying to HELP you you piece of—”

It was sad. One of the unattached men had jumped on the greek god’s back and was trying to pummel him. Just to show that he could, perhaps. The man grabbed the single’s forearm, picked him up with an oversized palm, and threw him across the room. The single slammed into the glass, spiderwebbing it, and fell to the ground, motionless.

No one bothered to check on him. Holly bit her tongue. She was ready to cum, right there.

“Fine. FINE!” the man yelled. Veins on his neck lit up. Even with Luke this close, Holly could smell him. Like a gym had been distilled. It was intoxicating. She looked over at Luke, and could see his fear. “FUCKING FINE! Be cattle! What do I care!” the huge man growled. “I’M SO FUCKING HORNY!” he roared.

He dashed off.

“Who the hell was that?” one of the other men said.

“I think that’s Todd from legal,” one of the others said.

Every girl in the room made a mental note. Todd.

* * *

Myra was so proud of her cummy-wummy best buddy and their super great plan. It was a GREAT plan and she was so happy Erin came up with it because thinking was HARD.

Plan part one was to dress up super hot. Myra was in charge of this part of the plan. She had selected matching blue and green tanktops, quietly metallic, with extra elastic to accommodate two cool girls with large chests. She noted that she was still a bit bigger then Erin, not that either were complaining about boob size. They had woken up in the same bed with great big wobblers, capped with brown hyper-sensitive nipples. Down below, comfortable yet attractive minis.

They had spent a long time debating about underwear. Erin had been deadset on wearing some. Myra, firmly opposed.

“We gotta look like the AgraRipe girls,” she had explained. “You know, the bimbos. We gotta be dead fuckin ringers for them, and they are the sexiest, hottest, fuckingest..” she blinked. Her train of thought had derailed. That kept happening. It was a very bad train.

“I’m wearing underwear, Myra,” Erin said. “The whole point here is we’re the type of girl that wears underwear.”

Myra rolled her eyes. Erin was putting on such a big smarty-pants show. Like she hadn’t had Myra spank her ass bright red half the night, a big vibrator stuffed up her butt. And then it was back to lectures.

They had eventually agreed to disagree re: panties.

Step two, get inside the building. And Erin had had a great idea. Fire escape! It turned out that the stairs she had taken had a door outside, required by law! She had nearly kissed Erin but they had spent a super long time on makeup and she didn’t want to mess that up.

Step three, brief stop in the break room to get some food, since they were both super-starving. “I don’t like it. That stuff is totally weird and full of chemicals and hormones,” Erin had said. “But I don’t see any way around it, until we can get out and detox.”

Myra’s eyes practically rolled back in her head, since Erin gave THIS little lecture with her skirt hiked up, much-discussed underwear around her ankles, getting one last cum in in the parking lot before the start of the operation.

Step.. five? Step the next. Gather up all the files in Lydia’s office, all the words, and then carefully CALL Todd and have him follow IN HIS CAR from a SAFE DISTANCE while they drove to the nearest office of the Central Intelligence Office.

“We’re going all the way to the top,” Erin explained. “Or the NSA. Either is fine. And remember the big rule.”

“Right,” Myra said.

“Myra, what’s the big rule.”

“Get the.. thing.”

“The big rule is AVOID ALL MEN. Whatever they’re… doing to us… it doesn’t work one hundred percent good unless a guy is around. Then it’s hard to, you know, think clearly about anything besides dicks and stuff.”

Dicks. They both had a minute long brain break, oozing and sighing, to let boys waft through their their heads.

And then they were off, holding hands, determined as anything, two vibrators buzzing away inside their snatches to give them strength.

* * *

Steps one through.. Uh.. some of the steps went according to plan. There was, in fact, an exterior fire door, and it was even propped open with a cardboard box. They avoided entirely the throng of men and women inside the lobby, staring each other down. Then Erin and Myra made their way up to the break room without incident, where they were the first two to get into a truly awe-inspiring array of treats and snacks. Entirely new tables had been put in with chocolate eclairs, berry tarts, danish after danish, and, of course, the trays of neatly arranged cupcakes in two frosting colors. The two of them took what they could and ran it back into the fire escape.

“Just coffee?” Myra teased, halfway into her third eclair.

Erin made a face. “I mean, I know I’m, you know, affected and stuff,” the girl said, squishing her big semi-naturals together. “What with my tits and all. But maybe the caffeine or whatever like, I don’t know, counteracts it and stuff? Maybe?”

Myra shrugged. As far as she could tell, Erin had also had her pubic hair all fall out, overnight, so maybe having some yummy cuppy cream wasn’t such a big deal. Plus her friend was drooling while she watched Myra eat, tinted brown drool from her slurps of coffee. So WHATEVER.

Freshly fueled, they split up, ready to meet up again in the computer room. Myra kept her eyes downcast, walked quickly, and kept the vibrator on super-max. It was hard to walk straight—there was a new dance beat playing in the hallways, and it came with a real catchy beat, just the thing to move your hips to, to sway your ass to the music.

The legal office seemed to be empty. Kay was gone, leaving behind a trash nest of sweet garbage. Myra peaked into Lydia’s office—her boss was gone.

She gathered up everything that had words on it into a bag and congratulated herself on a job well done.

That’s when she heard the grunt-sigh.

“Hello?” she called out. And there it went again. Clearly, obviously from Todd’s office. It was practically in pain.

Myra stood quietly. It was the male-est sound she had ever heard. A deep, rumbled grunt.

“Todd?” she said.

They had agreed, no physical contact with Todd, but… he was her co-worker. And he had such a beautiful cock.

She opened his door.

He looked like a statue.

Todd was shirtless, his shoulders too broad, his chest too thick, for any mere dress shirt to contain him. He did wear a strapped white wifebeater, the fibers straining across a thick mat of chest hair. His face was thick with perspiration. He was sitting on his hands, his pants buckled up, and what had to be a monster, monster penis straining against the cotton.

“Myra,” he said. He had a thick beard, all of a sudden. “Thank god. Look, you’ve got to help me. I… I…”

He pointed down, helpless, at his crotch, like he had been invaded. “I’ve got to stick it in something,” he said, hoarse. “I’ve been holding off but… it’s too much. It has to go off.”

It smelled like a fraternity and a gym, mashed together, with some cowboys to boot. There were jism stains on the ceiling, fifteen feet up. Myra was dully surprised that her panties didn’t just drop right there, conceding.

She stopped breathing, pinched her nose shut. “Todd, I’ll… I can’t,” she said, fighting every instinct to fall onto her knees, forever. “Oh my god that thing will…” there was no way she could survive a close encounter with it. Erin was right. It’d burn her out.

Todd groaned, again. He was in real discomfort. “We’ve got to do something,” he said, miserable. “I’ve got it all worked out. Walter, Lydia, everything, and then… I’ve got to do someone. I’ve just got to.”

The solution occurred to her. Erin. She had tons of brain cells, tons of them.

She could spare a few, with just a few lil’ orgasms.

* * *

“Alright, girls, line up,” Peter said.

The trio obediently stood up, and stood in line.

“No, I’m not making myself clear,” Peter said. He rubbed at his eyes. It was getting hard to explain things. Walter had promised that his intelligence wouldn’t be affected, but that was probably a lie. He was communicating with grunts, his hands, and his dick, more and more. “Bend over in a line.”

He was tired. Really tired. One of the men he had confronted was wise enough to simply let his stable go, and run off to attempt to take someone else’s. But two more had fought it out to the bitter end. Peter had bruised arms, his left wrist ached and was possibly broken, and his right knee was hobbled. It hurt but it didn’t do to limp in front of the girls.

Well, there was a reward. Three more glistening asses, high up in the air. Peter wasn’t in the habit of worrying about their names, anymore. These three were from… marketing… or something… Two latinas and a girl that he was pretty sure had weighed about two hundred plus pounds a few days ago. Now just a bunch of more perfect, hairless, pussies for him to inseminate.

He shoved his dick into the first one in line. The girl instantly tightened around him, squeezing at him, milking his cock. She was totally concentrated on it, and Peter gave her points for that. He was too tired for the girls that moaned and bucked and made the whole thing like riding a horse. Mute, quick, and silky, that was his current goal.

He jizzed quickly into her, as deeply as he could. Peter was a little too big for most of the girls. Hard as it was to believe, they still had a ways to go—even bigger boobs, even heavier asses, perfect fuck dolls with fertilized eggs.

“Okay, move over,” he told her, pulling out. A slap on her ass brought her off, like it did with most of these girls. He didn’t have the time or the energy to bring them to orgasm properly. The girl stood up, dripping his cum, and walked over where he had pointed.

Cam and Paul were there. Peter wasn’t quite sure what was going on with those two. They had long, thick hair now, and had found AgraRipe! shirts that fit. Was he bigger, or were they smaller? They took hold of the new mom-to-be and gently outfitted her with the Peter uniform—a pink t-shirt, a white mini. The twosome liked to bicker as much as they made out. Well, whatever. It was nice to have someone in charge of harem management while he took on the more difficult task of girl acquisition.

His phone buzzed. Peter looked down at it while he plugged girl number two. She hissed and bucked, clawing at the smooth glass of the conference table. His lips moved as he worked out the texts. It was his wife.

ALICIA: hey ALICIA: honey ALICIA: i just barfed ALICIA: omg ALICIA: i think im preggo :) :) :) ALICIA: come home im horny ALICIA: and hungry ALICIA: so hungry ALICIA: hungry

His cock fell out, somehow, despite being ruler-long and thick as a coke bottle. The girl was just too into it, spasming and squirting all over. He picked up his hardon and shoved it back into her, releasing a thin stream of cum. He pulled out roughly and gave Cam and Paul a look. They nodded. Tier 3 for this one. Floor-licking duty.

“What about Todd?” his mind nagged. He tried to ignore it. He had heard about the incident at building two. Todd was some sort of freak, not playing by the rules, putting on slabs of heavy muscle with a girl count of 0. It was unfair. All this work beating up lesser men was a waste of time while someone more ruthless, more thickly built, stalked around. Peter paused in front of the dripping slit of girl number three. Her eyes were clenched shut, and she was already cumming, just out of anticipation.

His cock drooped over so slightly. Peter hesitated.

“You two want a go?” he said.

“Uh,” Cam said. He, or whatever, looked briefly at her pussy, dribbling onto the glass, and then looked down again. His mouth twisted. “No thanks.”

“Fine,” Peter said. He closed his eyes, forced his hardon up, and railed girl number three, hard, pushing well back until his cock bottomed out, just to prove that he could. Jizzed hot cum in her until it poured out around his dick when he was at the other side of a thrust. Until the girl’s last shriek simply cut off, her brain overloaded with endorphins and hormones.

The phone rang. Peter answered it, glad for the distraction.

“Alicia, I’ll be home soon,” he said. “Get the blow-up bed out of the garage. I’m bringing... “ Cam held up 8 fingers. “Seven girls home.”

“What?” a male voice said. “Peter?”

Peter tried to place a name to the voice. “Who the hell is this?”

“Jesus christ, man, it’s Nathaniel! Look, we have to talk, I can’t get in touch with AgraRipe, your servers are down, customer service is… they just LAUGHED at me… what the hell is going on over there?”

Peter laughed. He laughed and laughed.

“There’s no way you’d believe me, man,” he said, and hung up.

* * *

Erin was staying on top of it. She totally was.

She felt like she was walking on a highwire, balanced so precariously over a big pit of uncaring sluts. The coffee she was guzzling in such massive quantities had her hyper, alert, awake, and yes, so achingly horny that she could barely feel the big ’ol dildo lodged somewhere up inside of her. But she was still in the game, still able to come up with plans: find proof of malfeas—malf—bad things, get in a car, get out of there. Stay away from penises. Use Myra as a sex toy. That sort of thing.

Her shield, as ever, was her phone. The batteries glowed hot, even plugged in. Whenever the tension and brain-hurt of staring at a computer screen, at viciously long words, got too bad, she could back off and look at some harmless pornography. And maybe finger her asshole a bit.

The computer room was empty. Cam and Paul were nowhere in evidence, although there was a new mattress on the floor, with tangled blankets. They had left behind their wall o’ studs and bimbos. Erin found her low-tier ranking to be a comfort. Plus she outranked Myra.

Cam and Paul’s own pictures, weirdly enough, had been swapped over to the lowest rung of the girl side. Well, whatever.

She had compiled just about everything onto a flash drive. The missing bimbo home addresses, the mysterious corporate address of Walter, the bankruptcy evidence Myra had delivered. Not exactly a smoking gun, but she figured that her own ridiculously overstuffed, oversexed body was a kind of evidence. Plus she could blow the FBI agents into believing her.

And then she saw a stray reference to “Calving” in a report on Walter’s credit she had run.

She googled the town. A brief wikipedia entry came up. Then chamber of commerce, visitor’s bureau, boring stuff.

She accidentally clicked over to google images….

Ten minutes later, a big, extremely horny man bumbled in to the computer room.

She smelled him first. It was incredible, like the entire room had been doused in rare cologne and used as a sweat lodge for attractive boys. Erin glanced at her phone automatically, to try and block out the sight of the hottest, bestest guy staring right at her exposed chest. She had let a boob out to tweak her nipple a bit, for fun. Now he was making a beeline for it.

“Erin!” Myra said. “Todd needs to fuck you! It’s important! Do it for the team!”

Erin stood up. She watched, mouth open, as Myra strode out from behind Todd, and unzipped the fly on his overstuffed pants. The cock that flew out was veiny, long, wet, red. She had seen it a hundred times in her head, a thousand times. Her knees buckled.

“Just the once,” Todd said. He was trying to stay calm. Two breeding females were walking all around him. It was crazy, his body was saying, that they were clothed and fertile at the same time. Insanity. He had to fuck them raw. “Just to relieve the pressure a bit.”

Erin stared at her phone. A girl was getting her ass slapped there. She couldn’t look up. She couldn’t. “I can’t fuck you, Todd. We’ve got to get out of here. This guy—his entire TOWN is just big breeding bitches and stallions! They’re making us into… into COWS!”

“Yeah but, Erin, c’mon, look at this dick!” Myra dropped to her knees in front of it. She jacked it gently with a hand, then both hands. A gob of precum sloshed out the tip. “Just look at it!”

“Myra, you’re being a bimbo, remember what we talked about,” Erin said. She tried to look at Todd’s eyes and not the dick waving five feet from her. She wanted to fuck it so bad. “Todd, look, there’s a ton of sluts out there. Go fuck one, we’ll wait here. We’ve got to work together on this.”

Todd didn’t say anything. His point was clear. There were two bimbos, right here, untouched, and they didn’t have his cock in them. He just wanted to fuck one of them senseless, it was more than fair.

Myra was getting distracted, jacking him off. She was having trouble figuring out if this was real, or just one of the long fantasies of her working at his dick, servicing it. She had to get it inside of Erin. Erin would really enjoy being fucked by this cock.

“Spank her, Todd,” she said, softly.

Erin’s cheeks went bright red.

“Myra!” she exclaimed.

“Oh, Erin, it’s for the best!” Myra said. “You’ll love it! Todd, she loves being spanked. I was beating her ass all night. My wrists are sore.”

“Oh, that is bullshit!” Erin said. She turned around. She intended to show anger. Exposing her rear end was just a side effect. “I trusted you, Myra! Aren’t you an attorney?”

“I’m not, like, YOUR attorney, duh,” Myra said. Her hands were absolutely covered with jizz. She licked at it. It tasted like honey and licorice.

Erin’s knees locked. She felt herself slowly bending over at the waist. It was just too much. She teetered on the tightrope. One solid smack on her ample ass would send her over, she could tell, make her just another one of those mewling bimbos with no thoughts beyond snacks and sex. Although maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, cuddling up with the strongest guy in town, heck, maybe the entire country. Letting him…. umm… fuck her bent over the entire rest of her life.

Myra watched her friend put her hands on a desk and lean over, her feet locked together. There was never a more open invitation for an ass-fuck. It was beautiful. She was such a good friend.

A perfect half-circle ass presented itself to Todd. He struggled with the urge to rip off her skirt, tear it in half, and leave the tattered cotton remains on the floor, as a reminder to women to never wear clothes again. Right now everything he did was an ongoing negotiation with his pounding, screaming sex drive. He would tear off her panties—but GENTLY. He would fuck her—but NOT totally lift her off the ground and pound her into the wall. He would get her a LITTLE pregnant.

They were both well lubricated. Todd slipped down her panties, leaving them at her ankles, and then watched, slightly surprised, as a massive dildo fell out. Then he slipped in his cock. It was weird to see that many thick inches glide in so effortlessly. If it wasn’t for Erin’s squeak, you’d hardly know she had, what, a foot or so of enormous cock inside of her.

Erin fell off her tightrope into a boiling pit of tits and ass. She was barely able to think farther than five seconds ahead, to the inevitable friction of Todd’s cock in her pussy. She was a little angry, at Myra for selling her out, for herself for giving in, for her phone for being an inadequate shield. But then there were waves of endorphins and chemicals and hormones flooding through her bloodstream, infecting her brain, telling her that this was fantastic.

Todd started to thrust, and both of them roared. Myra sat down on the floor, helpless, and started to touch herself. It was like watching an amazing porno, except with two people she deeply respected.

Todd reached around easily and grabbed Erin’s tits. He pulled her closer, keeping his thrusts fast and close, rubbing hard at her pussy. Erin fought to at least focus her eyes. Her tits were on fire, in two rough hands, kneading hard on her nipples. She could already feel jizz pooling inside of her.

But it was nice. It was so nice. Her pussy burned hot and her tits were electric and her mind was a white haze of sugar and pleasure. She was Todd’s number one if she could squeeze him dry. Todd, the biggest boy around. She’d get thick and round and spend her days in bed. The worst part of her day would be lazily masturbating while he was out roping cattle or whatever. She’d fuck him ten times a day, at least.

Myra could assist with meal preparation.

Myra had no idea that she was watching a power couple forming. She was drooling at the sight of raw carnal fucking, juices flying, both partners spasming. She had a number of fingers up her slit, and it was hardly enough.

Todd arched his back, and picked Erin up. His cock visibly surged, and a week’s worth of pent-up cum started to flow. Erin was practically limp. White, sticky cum flowed out of her with each thrust.

Myra came too, just to hang in with the action. It would’ve been weird not to.

The attorney, IT tech, and paralegal collapsed onto the floor, in a gooey haze of sex and cupcakes, and took a few minutes off, unable to talk or read or do anything but recover. Eventually they got up, because they were hungry again, and needed to eat.

* * *

Holly still felt a little weird about fucking in public.

Bits of rationality, her prior version, slipped in along with her nerves. Reminders that she didn’t always have a super-fuckable ass and two titanic tits, that she was on the wrong side of 40. She might’ve had a family or something. Certainly she used to wear plain cotton white underwear with a plain cotton bra and had sex only in bed, at home.

There was a surge of fear every time she thought one of these newly forbidden thoughts, a tight and brief awareness of everything that had—had HAPPENED to her.

But then Dallas pushed her back down onto his dick, and it all flew away on a warm surge of brain-erasing pleasure.

When she was crushed all the way down, his pubic hairs tickling her ass, his hands heavy on her breasts, a whole new set of concerns took over. Melody and Katherine seemed to accept that she was the top girl, who got the thickest spooge, but Kelly certainly did not, and she had been with Dallas from the start, when he had fucked her on top of the copy machine. But Kelly had smaller tits, and still had her hair in a ponytail, and insisted on wearing underpants. She had voiced concern about getting pregnant, which made Holly giggle. Girl, you’ve got cum on your shoulders, little late to worry about birth control.

And then up again, and Holly had time to think ‘Oh God I’m probably pregnant’ before—woosh—back down the long ladder of Dallas’ cock.

“Thanks for coming!” Walter said.

They were all in the auditorium. Funny, Holly didn’t remember any kind of company announcement, but here they all were. Little encampments of men wearing ties, no shirt, or just pants, surrounded by five-six bombshells in varying states of undress. The music surged and thumped.

“I am so proud of everything we’ve accomplished this week,” Walter said. He strode the stage, the only one fully-clothed, still in his baggy suit and plastic shoes. He looked pleased. “When I took over this company I took over a group of men and women who didn’t believe in anything, and who no one believed in.”

He stared at the dull eyes and subtle fucking in the audience, and grinned. “And now, look at what we’ve accomplished together. This company has never been more energized, never worked so well together. This is a company that competes and cooperates, all at the same time. I am so incredibly proud of all of you! Who would’ve thought that a week ago there was nothing here but tired office drones slouching around, waiting to get fired? I want everyone here to give themselves a round of applause.”

There was a brief round of applause, mostly from the girls who were still somewhat with it, and wearing shorts or a skirt. Holly was too preoccupied with an orgasm, and Dallas had his hands on her boobs to steady her.

There weren’t many men left in the audience. The singles were in the back, quiet and exhausted, drinking water bottles and nursing injuries. Lots of black eyes and sprains, some possible broken bones. A few AgraRipe girls tended to them, handing out pink cupcakes with condescending smiles. The singles looked dully at them, at their metallic pink panties whenever they bent over, and felt just too fucking tired to pinch an ass.

“But we’re not done. WE are NOT DONE!” Walter said. He slammed his hands together for emphasis. “I want everyone here tomorrow afternoon. I know it’s Saturday. But we have got more business to get done. I don’t want to lose this magic.”

There weren’t any groans—at least, not disappointed groans. Holly was groaning because Dallas had bottomed her out.

“And just to make it a little easier to come in on a weekend,” Walter said, “I am handing out $200 gift cards. I want you all to get the heck out of here, into the community, spend a little money, see your husbands, see your wives, and show them what AgraRipe is all about!”

The music started to crescendo. Holly paused, then started to fuck to the beat. The other girls around Dallas, slumped in their chairs, sat straight up.

“Lets do this!” Walter yelled. “AgraRipe!”

Holly was already cumming. But it started again—harder, matching the beat. Through blurred vision she could see the other girls start to cum, just sitting there, shaking and moaning, the boys gritting their teeth and jizzing out. A roar built up, to the sound of the music, while Walter applauded.

Then they left to go shopping.

* * *

They were so sexy together, and so dumb. Todd, with his big body and his oversized cock, which was already once again ready to go. Erin had been fucked to the bone and just sat there, absently scooping up the cum drooling out of her pussy. Myra was having a hard time not burying her lips on Todd’s dick.

They had everything they needed, on Erin’s flash drive. But it was so hard to put it together into a plan. There were so many fun things they could do together. Todd could lay on his back, cock in the air, while Myra and Erin took turns impaling themselves. Myra and Erin could kneel side by side and gently lick Todd clean. Or he could just take turns fucking them in the butt.

“Lydia,” Todd said, eventually. He picked himself up the floor, found his pants, and struggled to get them on. The legs ripped. He didn’t even try the fly. “We should talk to Lydia. She knows what’s going on.”

It was a good idea, and between the three of them, they had just enough non-sexual brainpower to act on it. Erin was too blissfully fucked to move, but she could tell Myra how to find Lydia’s address on the computer. Todd and Myra worked together to figure out google maps. It was good cooperation.

“Should we…?” Myra said, before they left. “Fuck before we go?” went unstated.

Todd grunted. “We’re not.. animals.” he said, slowly.

“Todd, you’ve got a horse cock,” Myra didn’t say. It was hard to believe she hadn’t gotten any of that. Typical Myra. Get transformed into a dim, sexy bombshell and she still couldn’t get laid. Hanging out with a living sex stallion who still wouldn’t fuck her.

“Told you,” Myra said, as Erin looked at her tattered, destroyed panties. Her clothes were otherwise soaked in jizz. “Panties are dumb.”

Erin made a face. “You know what I’m gonna name the kids?” she said, resigned.

“What?”

“Not Myra.”

“Notmyra?”

“No…” Erin shook her head. “Lets just go. Has anyone seen my phone?”

They found it. Todd had stepped on it at some point. It was glass and powder. Erin sighed, slowly.

“I guess I don’t need it anymore, anyways,” she said.

They drove to Lydia’s house in Todd’s car.

Erin rode shotgun. Todd was way too big for his little Camry. His knees stuck out, and his shoulder blades nearly hit Erin in the head. The car instantly smelled like spunk.

It was slowly dawning on Myra that she kind of fucked up, siccing Todd on Erin. Actually she really fucked up. Now Erin had a brain full of boy cum and painted her nails during the ride over, a deep wine red, which meant it was gonna be pretty hard to break out of this whole ‘bimbo’ thing they were fighting. But more importantly, Erin had gotten first ride on the bull, had made him jizz his entire balls out, and was probably knocked up. And now Myra was number two, destined for tongue cleanup duty.

True, cleanup duty on the fastest car on the market, but still.

On the other hand Myra would put her mouth wherever Todd wanted.

Lydia lived in a house outside of town, on a hill, with four bedrooms at least and a small fountain in the yard. There was a small, bright white Lexus outside. The lights were on.

The trio had passed numerous coworkers on the ride through town, clutching shopping bags and scarfing cupcakes, watched and followed by bemused residents. One of the AgraRipe bimbos was now passing out baked goods to everyone else in town. Limit ten per person. There was a line.

Lydia was inside her house, reading a book. “Showoff,” Myra thought.

Kay was there too. Well, Myra thought it was Kay. Her face was between Lydia’s thighs. And she was a bright white blonde, with teardrop tits. And totally naked. But who else could it be?

“Hello, everyone,” Lydia said, closing her book. She put it on the table. Her house was well appointed, albeit sparsely. There was nowhere for them to sit. The three of them stood awkwardly in Lydia’s foyer, watching her get licked out. “Can I help you with something?”

The three of them stood there. Todd’s face was screwed up. Poor Todd, Myra thought. He had blown his brains out with his balls. She found some spare thinking, somewhere.

“We need your help, Lydia,” she said. “We’re all.. fucky. I think you had something to do with it.”

“Clearly,” Lydia said. She shook her head. “I would’ve thought you had the sense to clear out of town when I gave you that assignment. I guess not.”

“So you did know,” Myra said. “About all of…” she pointed down at her body. “This.”

“Of course! I’m general counsel! It’s my responsibility to make corporate transitions go smoothly,” Lydia said. She gently motioned Kay aside, stood up. She was naked from the bottom down, her slit pink and wet, the rest of her pale porcelain. It was a contrast to Myra’s own cartoonish curves, and honestly, way hotter.

“So why didn’t you—”

“Oh, Myra, honestly,” Lydia said. She idly patted Kay on the head. “You don’t know how powerful they are. This company… this city… this entire state was nothing but livestock once they decided to come. Mating and breeding are two powerful urges before you bring modern chemicals into it. I got the best deal I could out of it.”

“Yeah, but you could’ve stopped—”

Lydia shook her head, smiled softly. “Myra. I know what you’re thinking. That you were this close to escaping. What you don’t know is that the company was sold two months ago.”

Two months ago.

Lydia paced up and down, her hands behind her. “They’ve been drugging us for at least a month. The entire town, really. And subliminals, all that. I’m not a chemical expert, but I believe the whole cupcake business was just some sort of activator. There’s been a big drippy bimbo inside of you for quite some time. It just had to eat its way out.”

Lydia took note of her paralegal. “Todd, you I’m especially proud of. You’re a prize specimen. Look, go to Walter. He’s not an unreasonable man. And you are top-tier stock. Show off what you discovered, who you are. He’ll find a way to make you happy. It’s what he does.”

“And what did he do for you?” Myra said. She tried to lace her voice with scorn, but didn’t quite seem to have that emotion, anymore.

“A contract,” Lydia said. She walked over to a table, picked up a thick piece of paper. “I won’t bore you with the details. I keep my intelligence, that kind of thing.”

She glanced at Myra. “Myra, you were always a truly mediocre attorney. But I think you’ll make an excellent breeding cow.”

“Lydia,” Myra said. “Can you read me some of that contract?”

Lydia shrugged. Behind her, Kay finally noticed that she wasn’t licking anything, and looked around, baffled. She saw Todd, and started to waddle towards him.

“Why do you ask? Have you forgotten how to read?” Lydia said. She smiled quietly.

“No. I think you did. You had that big book upside down.”

Lydia’s smile faded. She looked at the contract with increasing alarm, flipping through pages. Her lips moved. Kay made it over to Todd, only to get beaten to access by Erin, who firmly turned her new boyfriend around and fell to her own knees.

The two attorneys glared at each other.

“Well, at least I got something out of all this,” Lydia said. She sniffed, pointedly, at Myra. “Doesn’t appear that you’ve gotten anything at all.”

“I’ve got bigger tits than you,” Myra said. “You stupid bimbo bitch.”

She stalked out of the house.

It was a good exit, and only slightly marred by having to wait in the car for ten minutes while Todd fucked Erin in the mouth.