The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sarah had gotten used to waking up horny and hot.

For a long time waking up a bimbo had bothered her. Sometimes she had started awake with a jolt of fear, disoriented by the big tits, the fuzzy pink froth in her head, the way her pussy was already damp. At times she had even bolted upright, tossed on a shirt over oversized boobs in a confused panic, and nearly made her way outside. Of course, the dull but happy realization that she was a hot, sexy thing, made to get fucked, had always set in pretty quick.

And now she simply woke up giggly and wet and confident that she was going to fuck all day.

There were a lot of nice things about waking up fuckable. First of all it was simply nice to wake up warm and wet. She felt so good, every bit of her. There was none of the old routine of waking up to catalogue aches and pains, shower her stupid body, tug it into shitty clothes. Now Sarah got up to a party. Even the sheets on her naked self felt good. She liked to stretch, very slowly, and feel her body tug, skin stretching in pleasant ways on her boobs, her butt. And then she’d very lazily check to make sure her pussy was the hot and wonderful place of fun she remembered, and it was. Just licking her lips was a reminder that no doubt all types of yummy dicks would be rubbing on them throughout the day.

And her day, that was another good bit. A lot her had been wiped clean—it was still a little scary to think about—but definitely she didn’t miss the tick-tock of responsibilities. Now it was just wondering where all the friction would come from. Her day would be rubbing and rubbing, warm bodies on warm bodies. Nothing more troubling than cleanup at the end of it. She was a very specialized goddess. At any rate, men did worship her.

Plus there was the clothes, the alcohol, the gum, the shopping, the toys, the men, the gum, the everything.

Ordinarily.

Ordinarily she woke up at a decent hour, noon or so, after a long and productive night of humping men and sucking dicks. Maybe a sleepover would poke his cock at her ass, nestled underneath the covers, but definitely not before nine.

The clock read six oh two. Reading, and right away, was a terrible way to start the day.

Someone was pounding hard on her door, for no reason at all. It was unlocked. Why would she lock her door? If someone wanted to come inside and pound her mouth, great. Sarah rarely remembered more than half of the previous night, but she’d been up until at least four. There’d been a lot of drinking. What was this?

“It’s open!” she yelled, and buried her head underneath the covers. Maybe whoever was there would die between the door and her bedroom. It was painful to admit, but all she could handle right then was a cuddle, and maybe a very very gentle and leisurely missionary bang.

Emmett tried the knob.

“Umm, it’s open!” a voice he didn’t recognize. A roommate? Sarah had an NPR voice, a cool tone that was best suited for reading business news. It was perfectly controlled, and if she had ever said ‘ummm’ with a confused fuzz of vocal fry, he had never heard it.

But this voice squeaked.

“Sarah?” he said.

He’d been in her apartment before. Just several weeks ago, when they had started up on the class project. It had met his expectations—sparse, even bare, the walls empty, items in their rightful place. She had invited him in and immediately sat him down at a table littered only with engineering books. And then Sarah had taken a clean white piece of paper and explained exactly how their presentation was going to go, in five minute increments.

The bathroom had been so clean he had nervously sat down to pee, for fear of getting a single stray droplet on the rim.

This room was—destroyed.

The door was open, yes, but there were empty boxes in a mound just behind it, and they let him make just a crack. All kinds of packages, too. To his right, the living room was a pit of what looked like casually discarded clothes, and not all girl clothing. And then the kitchen was a minefield of empty bottles. Every stray surface had something on it.

Judging from the bottles it should’ve reeked of old alcohol. Instead it was—and it made Emmett hesitate—it was sweet. Cloying sweet. Bubble gum and giggles sweet, like the door to the Wonka factory. And that was mixed with something else he couldn’t consciously recognize. Spilled, sexy fluids. Repeated, athletic sex. He looked around automatically for candles—scents like that, people didn’t just make them. It had to be artificial in some way.

There was too much to take in. There were little stories on every surface he could examine. A black pair of panties hung from the ceiling fan. The back patio door was open and a chair had been strategically placed to—maybe bend over? The boxes behind the door were all very discreet shipping boxes with no names on them. There were glistening stains on the walls. It was not Sarah’s apartment. It was someone else’s.

Out of all the stained and wet surfaces somehow the table was almost entirely clear. True, it was very possible a lot of stuff on it had abruptly gotten tossed onto the floor. Still, it was an oasis, and Emmett walked over to it, nervous. He had sat there and let Sarah plan everything, down to the minute. She had worn a dark grey sweater over a collared shirt, and he had smirked briefly at it—very like Sarah to wear business casual at home.

Now there was just one gum wrapper there. It was bright pink.

Sarah laid in bed and listened to the man poke around. She sort of recognized his voice, not that that meant very much. There’d been a lot of traffic through her apartment recently and almost every sort of voice had been grunting on top of her at some point. He’d said her name, which meant he knew her name, which actually did narrow it down quite a bit.

As usual the sound of a male voice was all it took. Sarah had been through a lot of changes recently, and most of them were super fun, but she kinda resented at times how men could just kinda make her do whatever they wanted. Already her pussy was wet, her body starting to warm itself up, her thighs inching apart as she eyed the door. Sometimes it was fun to let her body go automatic, orienting itself to male needs, spreading and sucking as they wanted. And yes, there was nothing better than when a man decided she was a hole, and grabbed her hips, and jerked her entire body up and down.

Still, it was kinda degrading. A man had told her her name was Fuckbutt a little while ago and Sarah was still kinda convinced he was right. If a man said it.

That tiny frisson of irritation Sarah channelled into brief annoyance at the gum.

There had been one small pink stick, wrapped in matching foil, and it had been stuck to her doorknob along with a business card.

Sarah hadn’t even checked the card, already baffled at the marketing technique at work.

Attaching single sticks of gum to doorknobs. It was insane, insane. Sarah had no interest in business and marketing—that was for people with more drive than intelligence—but there was no way this was a strategy.

She’d unwrapped it. The foil wasn’t even taped close, or anything like that. Still, the stick of gum looked fine. Very pink, but fine.

And it smelled… good.

Actually, it was strange she could smell it at all, considering it was one stick and it had been outside all day. Sarah had wondered if it was just her mind substituting in assumptions. It LOOKED like it was perfumed with cotton candy and a hint of rose and strawberry and all overlayed with sugar-sweet. So that’s why she scented that, right?

Her nose twitched. She hadn’t indulged in anything sweet since Christmas Eve. Christmas itself was a good day to exercise. It had been grey and cold and wet for months and—Sarah stuck the gum in her mouth.

She relaxed. The absurdity of it was pretty funny. So it turned out she was the person to chew random gum left on doorknobs. Not something she would’ve expected. The scent stuck with her. The taste wasn’t as subtle—simple, enjoyable, bubble gum. She wrapped it around her tongue, playfully.

Was there any more obvious sign it was time for a cheat day? Her back hurt from carrying textbooks and laptops, she had worn the same pair of sweatpants to the library for three straight days. Self-care was important.

It took her a long time to remember a Netflix password she hadn’t used in six weeks. But then she settled in to a decisive four hours of not working and enjoying herself. Snug under the blanket, she didn’t even notice herself blowing a big, pink bubble.

Emmett considered the couch.

“I’ll be out in a second!” The non-Sarah voice had called out. It was all sing-song and squeak, just in that phrase. So he had walked over to the couch. It made sense to sit on the couch.

The couch was damp. All over damp, not just a small patch of wet, like a spilled drink. A deep, all-encompassing dampness that suffused the fabric. Which meant it should have been disgusting—but—he sniffed.

Something was wrong. Every year in his life, “damp couch” equated to gross at best. So why was he staring at it? The smell of it was too confusing to process on a conscious level—dozens of squealing sex acts, layered on each other. People had fucked on those cushions in so many ways. It was mildly perfumed. Emmett’s erection wasn’t going anywhere. He licked his lips.

Sarah had put the first wet spot on it after three happy hours chewing gum and not thinking very hard. Still, she had been startled to realize that she was about to masturbate.

Like all girls she had heard that men were always a zipper and closed door away from cheerfully wanking themselves senseless. But it just wasn’t part of her life. She’d had two real relationships, and every sexual encounter was a layered and fraught experience that had been basically disappointing. Definitely, though, Sarah expected a relationship, a guy, foreplay, sex, the whole production. It just didn’t occur to her to rub at her own privates.

Except she was. She had a pen in her hand, and the cap of it was pressed right at the tip of her vagina, and it was tracing a mildly pleasurable path up and down. It was barely jacking it, really. But it felt very good. She tossed off the blanket to get a better look. The gum snapped in her mouth.

It felt right to spread her legs very wide, with her knees slightly bent. Sarah slipped her hand down her own waistband. With the gum popping in her ears it was easy to ignore her usual concerns—UTIs, etc. Why didn’t she do this more often? It was an efficient, practical stress-reliever, especially for someone laser-focused on her degree. Nature’s headache relief. She found her nub and was mildly embarrassed when she gasped out loud. It was her own apartment, who cared?

It was even more humiliating to regularly feel so unconfident and unsexy with her own body. Here she was trying to build mathematical bridges, and she couldn’t even figure out her own architecture.

But her body seemed to know what to do this time, and that was to rub and thrust. Her other hand went down her pants. Sarah slid way back on the couch. Her thighs quaked. She had to be careful, or she might swallow her gum. This time, when she moaned, it was with confidence. This was her apartment, she could moan all she liked. Everything but her clit fell away. She could do this—she felt a spasm, a wet surge against her urgent fingers.

When she came to, mouth open, Sarah found that she’d left two wet spots. One, on the couch, from a very violent orgasm. Two, where she had apparently drooled all over the cushions.

Anxious, unable to really explain why, she’d stripped off her sweatpants, put on sleep sweatpants, and brushed her teeth. Her fingers smelled nice.

But before she did that, without really thinking about it, she put the gum on her bed stand.

It was time to get out of bed.

Whoever it was in the other room didn’t have the decency to come over and fuck her, which is what she sort of wanted. All in all Sarah liked the first few fucks of the day the best. Or at least, she remembered them the most coherently. At a certain point in the mid-afternoon all the pumping and sucking blended together into a pleasant but hazy mist that she was not going to remember.

Besides, she really did need to take a shower. Sarah sniffed. She was downright musky. For a long long time all the cum and stuff blending together was hot and fun, but eventually a girl needed to get nice and clean and shiny. And that time was when she could feel patches of dried cum all over her.

It did feel good to stand up and stretch. There was a mirror by the bed, and Sarah took a moment to marvel at it. It wasn’t just that she was so perfectly fuckable—and she was. She had a glow that spots of dried spooge couldn’t blot out. She looked healthy. She smiled, even hung over and tired. She looked like a girl that could go for a jog and then jump straight into a pile of boys. Still pale, but with a new pink glow and all over perfect complexion. Apparently jizz cleaned up acne.

The night after the Gum Experience was the first time Sarah had looked herself in the mirror, really, in a long time.

She’d sworn off mirrors in adolescence. Puberty had been a nasty experience full of misfiring glands. She’d developed several poorly diagnosed conditions. Adolescence had spit her out the other side achingly slender, prone to dark circles under her eyes, used to wearing oversized sweaters. She’d simply stopped trying in P.E., cheekbones alarmingly prominent, and the teachers hadn’t said anything.

Sarah winced at the reflection. “Gaunt,” she murmured, out loud. It was hard to believe this body had produced such an explosive, out of nowhere orgasm. She traced skin blotches with her eyes.

She blew out a long breath. Anyway, the point of a body was to carry the brain inside of it around without excess fuss. The important bits were the brain and maybe some of the nerves. She had a full day ahead of her. There were plenty of hoodies on the ground. She tossed one on. There, the problem of her body was solved forever. And why care at all? Her legs and arms worked.

Sarah got back in front of the mirror later the same day.

It had been the hardest day she could remember. She’d ached through all of it. Maybe her body had sensed her talking shit about it. And she had a headache. Sinus-y, with radiating pain up and down. It wasn’t clear if she had heard anything the professor said. She’d taken notes in a leaden, fuzzy haze.

She’d stripped down with the thinking a shower might help. But that had been a lie. She just glared at her body some more. Why was it such an effort, today?

Without quite thinking it through, she’d picked the gum off the bedstand. It was still soft. It smelled good. The headache rushed away before it. The body in the mirror relaxed. It made her look better. Sarah chewed the gum. Maybe this was on her. She didn’t need to feel bad, ever. All she had to do was stick her hands between her legs, and she’d feel good. Really good. Even with a body like a grey storm cloud she could just spread her thighs apart and rub just a tiny part of herself and it’d be electricity all up and down her body. As often as she liked. Why feel bad ever again?

The girl in the mirror chewed thoughtfully and rubbed at her clit.

The TV was on. Emmett did a double-take. It was—that was porn.

He sat down, shocked. Up until that point he had figured Sarah had thrown some amazing and unexpected party, one of those incredible ragers that is talked about for years. Definitely the alcohol made it seem likely. His working theory had been that Sarah spent 364 days of the year straightlaced and sober, and then had one remarkable cheat night that ended with a soaked couch.

The couch he was sitting on. Emmett didn’t even notice. It warmed up quickly. Already he didn’t notice the strange sweet smell that permeated the apartment. Understandably distracted, with porn on TV.

The stuff on screen was repetitive hardcore stuff. It was in pretty low quality, which is why Emmett hadn’t noticed right away. A brunette was mechanically sucking on a classic porno dick. It was just one long unchanging shot of her getting some man off, her lips shockingly red and working very hard on his oversized cock. Emmett’s own penis beat against the inside of his pant leg. His mouth mildly hung open.

There was no DVD player, but there was a roku. So that meant that Sarah had gone to the trouble of setting up a webstream of pornography from her computer to her TV. Which meant she really wanted to watch porn on her TV. Which meant he was sitting on a damp spot of…

Emmett stood up. “Jesus christ!” he said, out loud. “Sarah?” Sarah juice had soaked his pants. Or someone’s. Had he stumbled in to some unexpected sex party?

He heard the shower start up.

Masturbating in front of the TV had quickly become a daily routine.

Sarah had always been a person of habit. To the point where she’d learned to anticipate her own needs—always buy multiple pairs of pants if she liked one, because she’d wear them into a cobweb of holes. If pressed she could list every outfit she would wear and every lunch and dinner she’d eat for a given upcoming week. And why should touching herself be any different?

At first Sarah put a towel down on the couch. Partly because it was sanitary and partly because she was really soaking them through. When she came, which was often, Sarah inevitably made a big patch. Not quite squirting, but not far from it.

But she stopped with the towel quickly enough—it was rough and distracting, and besides, she soaked through it anyway. There was a minor guilty thrill in soaking a couch cushion with her own juice that was a fun, naughty experience.

It took her awhile to start watching porn, or anything. It was enough to laze there, after a hard day, and let her fingers dance. The challenge was to not come too quickly. The anticipation of fingerplay left her antsy and horny during classes. By 2 she was watching the clock, her thighs clenched. By 4 she was practically dribbling onto her panties. Soon she was collapsing onto the couch as soon as she got through the door, shucking off her pants with a groan of real relief.

She started leaving the gum on her coffee table. Sarah avoided thinking about it. It was easy enough, when her fingers were in her clit.

The porno thing was a compromise. Sarah found herself diddling her clit during late-night TV watching. It was, she considered, not acceptable. Yes, there were a number of really attractive men on TV, and yes, it was fun to hump herself while watching them. But that’s not what prestige television was for. Plus she ended up rewinding, fingering herself, cumming, and rewinding some more. It would be better if she kept the two worlds separate. And it would be more efficient—she’d get her jack-off sessions over with more quickly if she was steamed up on sexy images.

It was easy enough to set up. The only problem left was what to watch. One hand on the remote, the other between her legs, Sarah hit play.

Sarah no longer bothered to watch where she walked. For awhile she had kept one eye on the ground. Mostly for clothes—she didn’t want to crush some adorable skirt or one of the few bras that fit her new chest. And there was often something wet on the ground.

But it was clear now that was wasted effort. First of all, her titties didn’t really need bras. When they weren’t being lovingly cradled they rode high and proud on their own. Second of all, all her clothes were short, plastic-y, and taut. Wrinkles were for cotton, and all she had of that was some overstuffed tank tops for real lazy days. Not to mention, her floor was completely carpeted with clothing of all sorts, only some of it her own, such that she was always going to step on something. A bright pink bustier, a slinky piece of fabric that might be a dress, men’s underpants of all sorts.

Sarah paused as the shower hit her. She felt around in her mouth. Yep, there was the gum. She’d been trying not to sleep with it in her mouth, at least. It always made her wake up with bigger tits. Resigned, she blew a big bubble, keeping her head free of the water, and shrugged.

She’d googled “everlasting gum that never loses flavor” not long after the wet-couch era had started.

Sarah wasn’t stupid, at least not at that point. There was something odd going on. A small wad of mystery gum that never lost its pink, juicy allure, that was always soft and inviting, that tasted like chewing endorphins, something was up. She’d caught herself chewing phantom gum during class, and she could picture it waiting for her, in her apartment, perfectly pink. And of course there were the headaches when it wasn’t in her mouth.

And there were results. Recent results. People—girls—speculating that this was some new marketing plan, some quiet product rollout. It was all around the country, it was the same pink gum, and it tasted very, very good. “Good as HELL” one twitter account declared, and Sarah nodded.

It was a relief. Okay, this was some sort of mystery product. Any day now, proctor and gamble or whoever it was would announce their brand new Alwayslast brand, and congrats to the influencers who had gotten earlier packs.

Her fingers dived between her legs again. Sarah had even sat on her hand to keep them out of there. Increasingly her juice smelled familiar. Pink, sweet, sugary.

Something about searching for the gum had triggered some algorithm or another. Her internet experience was abruptly flooded with clothes. Sarah had always considered clothes to be essentially about warmth. But these were—they were cute.

She would be cute in them.

It was so hard to fight these new ideas when her fingers kept tickling at her slit. Nothing about them seemed wrong. Obviously self-acceptance of her body and sexuality was a good thing. Well-rounded. And she’d be a lot more well-rounded in a bright white halter top. True, it would tell the rest of the world that she had tits, but so what? Of course she had boobs. Guys knew that. Why hide it.

Sarah spent five hundred dollars before she came.

Emmett felt real pressure in his cock.

He stood up. He’d been inhaling furiously for some time, and watching the porno play on screen for ten uninterrupted minutes. He felt tremendous buildup in his balls. Emmett couldn’t remember ever being this wildly horny. Sure, growing up he’d brought himself off with the usual enthusiasm. But this was different. That was a need to cum. This was an urge to fuck, to find a hole and throw himself at it. To grab some willing girl with both hands and turn her into a source of friction.

And if he poured a pint of spunk into her, that would be great.

He groaned, out loud. The shower continued to tinkle. This was crazy. He had to do something. One idea was to burst into the shower and bang whatever girl was in there, who might or might not be his friend Sarah.

No. He had to get a grip.

He’d jack off. There. One good stroke should do it.

No, this was… wrong. He had to clear his head. Emmett stumbled through the cluttered apartment, pulled open the back patio door. There, the outside world. Blood still coursed through him. He was ready to either fuck a girl or beat the shit out of a guy, whatever the world presented. His forearms were wet with sweat.

A few deep breaths helped. His erection didn’t go away, exactly, but it subsided. His mind rationalized the fuck-urge away. He had watched porno in a girl’s apartment, that was all. A hot scene. He’d gotten excited.

It didn’t help his erection that there was a large and pink dildo on the patio table.

Sarah didn’t remember buying the dildo. It had just shown up in the deluge of packages now beating at her door. It had become Christmas every day. The tap-tap of the UPS guy was enough to make her whimper and moan, a pavlovian reaction she couldn’t fight at all.

Keeping up appearances at school was getting increasingly difficult. First of all, she was wearing some of the outfits to class. They were very attention-getting. Sarah had told herself that she saw girls in far more revealing stuff every day. But she was in STEM, and STEM boys weren’t used to girls in high-waisted short-hemmed jean shorts sitting down next to them. And yellow shirts with the top three buttons undone. They stared.

It was making her wildly horny.

Sarah kept trying to research the gum. Obviously she was kinda addicted to it. Her working theory was that it had been a tasteless wad for days. But something in it—what? How could it work?—was releasing lots and lots and lots of endorphins in her brain.

The explanation went pretty far. It definitely explained the happy float she got from cheerfully chewing, it explained the withdrawal during the day, it even explained the substitution effect from clothes and boys staring at those clothes. And no wonder her dancing fingers were getting her to a chemical high.

It didn’t explain why her bra was so tight.

Sarah hadn’t waited. She’d taken measurements and started a log right away. Within a few days there was obvious and scientifically quantified breast growth. She had real stats to show that her tits were getting larger and larger. She made an effort to do the measurement at the same time every day, after briefly fondling herself in front of the mirror. Any way she wanted to check, they were larger. Pushing her arms together shoved real boobs up. Her bras had creamy tits spilling out the bottom.

It all came to a head late one night. She hadn’t bothered to go to class at all. Sarah had tried to fit into a bra, any bra, and realized that she just couldn’t. Her titties were too big. They definitely didn’t want to go into a bra anyway, considering how her nipples pointed straight outwards all the time. Then she’d tried to put together an outfit that wouldn’t be indecent, bra-less. All the while with her hands straying up to nestle and play with real boobs. Cupping them, Sarah could imagine them still growing.

She kept trying to calm down with fingerplay, only to realize, late in the day, it was just making things worse. She’d never been so horny. Two or three fingers was just making it worse. Whining, deep in her throat, nothing was getting her over the edge. Four sopping wet fingers while groping her own boobs, legs splayed, buck naked, in front of porno played with the volume on loud.

It was the gum. She had to get rid of the gum.

If she thought about it she wouldn’t do it. Sarah picked it out of her mouth and held it away from her. She walked with it to the toilet, and held it out over the bowl. One flush and all her problems would go away. No more fun, no more cums, no more bigger boobs.

She willed herself to drop the gum in.

But maybe she was being too emotional, she told herself.

Her body was getting flooded with endorphins for the first time ever. It was just her learning to be happy. No doubt she’d figure it out a proper work-masturbation balance in time. She hadn’t done anything she’d actually regretted, outside of blowing off a few papers and quizzes that didn’t really matter in the big scheme of things. And she’d spent about a thousand dollars on clothes.

A memory surfaced of a recent purchase. Right, she’d nearly forgotten. It’d be precipit—pre—it’d be too fast to dump the happy gum until she gave it a shot.

Sarah pulled the dildo out of the box. It was a new step, and she approached it with caution. Everything so far had been explainable as ‘horny girl’. But this was a really big dildo, in bright pink, and it was far more than what normal people needed. A discrete vibrator was what most girls needed. Large pink dildos were for girls who wanted to watch a big phallus pistoning in and out of them. Who wanted to feel very, very full. Of cock. Putting this in her meant she was THAT kind of girl.

There was only one way to try it out. Big as it was, Sarah stood it up on the floor, and slowly, but not that slowly, slid her pussy onto it. Then she squeezed. The calm and warm approaching orgasm was a huge relief. There it was. And then it grew, and grew, and all she could do was shake around it.

Sarah didn’t bother to shave anymore. At some point, and she wasn’t very clear on when, her body hair had just started to slough off in the shower. It wasn’t like she had ever had a lot of it, and she’d started to shave her slit before then. It had been a partner who’d noticed it—remarking how entirely smooth she was, running his fingers over the entirety of her body. It had driven her totally wild, and later, she’d felt for herself.

As body changes went, it was barely worth mentioning. A doctor would be far more concerned about her rapidfire tit growth. Her log had broken down eventually, the last few entries a scrawl in pink, but they were very heavy. Sarah sort of expected them to start gushing milk, it seemed like a logical next step. But for the really good doctor the expansion in her rear was would’ve been a bigger issue, and literally. Hip bones didn’t get wider after puberty. She could put a number of framed pictures on her ass, if she chose.

The shower was where Sarah had brief and adorable rebellions. She’d storm out of the apartment, stark naked, and toss the gum off a high mountain that she was on for some reason. She’d kiss a girl and tenderly push the wad into girl 2’s mouth. She’d just swallow the stuff, and instantly balloon into some sort of hyperslut. She’d nearly thrown it into the toilet bowl too many times to count. Once, the rush from not doing it, from putting the gum back in her mouth, had been enough for a truly overwhelming orgasm.

She’d hit upon a great idea—tell someone. There was no reason she had to do all the painful work of thinking by herself. Every day in class there were tons of wonderful, sexy men who had all the smarts in the world. And, luck of luck, she got paired with a guy that was at least 6′2″ for a class paper. Tucker was a sheepish southerner who kept his eyes off her chest. She’d invited him over to work on the material right away.

It hadn’t gone well.

Inviting him over had been an obvious mistake. They should’ve met at his place, or a Starbucks, or anywhere else. Everything in the apartment reminded her of her recent sexual escapades—not least the fact that the porno TV was still on when he had knocked on the door. And she was half-naked and recovering from fingering herself. In her defense, it had all been trying to horn down pre-meeting. She’d jammed up her jean shorts, thrown open the windows, and shut off the TV.

‘Uh. Sarah,” he’d said, peering in. Had she forgotten something? But it was just her outfit giving him the blushes. The clothes themselves were just sort of naughty—a yellow tanktop and khaki shorts. It was probably the way her chest heaved and her tits went up and down that was instantly distracting.

“Tucker! Come in, sorry, come in!” she’d said.

Outside of the TV the apartment looked okay. Her bedroom was already coated in clothes, but he didn’t have to go in there. The couch she’d covered up with a blanked, although she’d added a new wet spot he’d just have to not notice.

And there was the big pink dildo out back because she liked to diddle herself in the open air.

Sarah turned bright red. “Make yourself at home!” she’d said, hurried. “Be right back!” Tossing the dildo over the side of the balcony was unthinkable, and there was nowhere to hide it.

Holding the big thing behind her back was sitcom-level, but she had no other options. Although part of her just wanted to toss it at him, dump her big sexy mess in his big strong hands and do whatever he felt like. But wait—she could keep his eyes on the floor. She’d spent long hours in front of the mirror, watching herself grow.

“Sorry it’s such a mess in here!” she said, keeping the big pink thing strategically behind her.

“Is it?” he said, puzzled. She worked hard to see the world from Tucker’s perspective. The concept was overwhelming. She had a reasonably neat apartment and was wearing shorts that, while cute, were stuff he’d see on any random street. He had no idea she was fucking herself with abandon and holding a large dildo behind her back. Heck, didn’t men honk off like every day? Would she just look like a weirdo if she tried to argue something extra-weird was going on, based on the fact that she masturbated? She hadn’t even fucked anyone.

Sarah used the hand not behind her back and pulled the gum out of her mouth. “Have you ever seen something like this?” she said, timid.

“Gum?” Tucker said. “Yeah. Gum, I’ve seen gum.”

“No—I—” Sarah gave up in immediate despair. How the hell was this going to work? She barely knew this guy, after all. How was she going to convince him that it was making her horny and wet?

Of course the answer was obvious. She had to do something only a slut would do. An unexpected move that was pure horny fucktoy.

Like give him a blowjob right then and there.

Sarah gritted her teeth against the idea. No, she would NOT. This was the gum talking. She was not going to put a man’s cock in her mouth, as fun as it seemed, and as nice as it would be. It was degrading and hot. But he’d have to believe her, once she’d blown him senseless. In fact, he’d be in the perfect mood to listen. He’d be nice and relaxed, his cum dribbling between her lips. There’d be a connection between them.

Tucker forced the issue by sitting down. It was all Sarah’s overheated body could take. Now she had to blow him. It was nearly mandatory.

“Why don’t I help us relax before we get to work?” she said, brightly. She was chewing the gum again. Tucker made a startled noise deep in his throat and put his hands on the chair arms, but that was it. “I want to show you something afterwards, don’t let me forget.” She pulled his dick out.

Sarah was dimly aware that she was making a huge mistake. As soon as she put the cock in her mouth a rush of warmth flooded her, a new burst of endorphins that put all her pitiful self-pleasure into perspective. She dropped the dildo behind her and forgot about it. Her mouth sealed around the head, and she inhaled hard, involuntarily. Oh, crap. This was too enjoyable. She was going to want more and more of it. She was going to want to suck more cocks. Not having a penis in her mouth, dripping a wonderful goo down her throat, was going to bother her. Her mind was flaccid, remolded.

In retrospect Tucker’s reaction, which was to almost instantly dump a quart of spunk into her mouth, was naive and adorable and a little annoying. But it was the first time she’d tasted the gum coated with jizz, and it had been electric. It was like the very first chew. The sweetness flooded her. She swallowed hard, almost choking, and only letting a few drops out of her mouth. Sarah barely noticed her own orgasm. It was an afterthought.

She looked up at him, dully sure she had something important to say, and totally unable to talk. The boy looked back at her with adoration mixed with concern. He’d stumbled upon a cocksucker, and wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Gum,” she managed, eventually. Right. That jogged something in her cum-drunk head.

“Oh, does it taste bad? Wait a second. This was on my doorknob.”

He pulled out a stick of bright pink gum and popped it in his mouth.

Emmett decided to sort clothes. It was productive.

He was past the point where things made sense, and had been raised on automatic cleanliness. Besides, there had to be some clues as to what the heck was going on in the swamp of discarded clothing articles. He put Sarah’s bedspread back and glanced at her mirror. It was pocked with dried fluid.

Mostly it was underpants. Part of him reminded Emmett that he was sorting through a girl’s undies for absolutely no reason at all. They had the same damp scent that was keeping him full hard. But he needed to keep his hands busy or they were either going to pull his cock out, or rush into the shower.

It didn’t help that Sarah was obviously getting off in there. Or whoever it was. He could hear her alternately humming tunelessly and moaning warmly. No doubt she’d come out, see what a good job he did cleaning up, and reward him with the fuck he so badly and suddenly needed. Or something like that. He tried to focus on cleaning up.

There were a few patterns. The sub-strata was made up of recognizable clothes that the Sarah he recalled would actually wear. Jeans and sweaters. They hadn’t seen daylight in a long time and had been compressed into wrinkled balls on the carpet. The carpet itself was actually fairly clean, sheltered from whatever had gone on with a blanket of clothing.

But everything on top was sexy and hot. Most of it was hard to sort—Emmett had no clue how to even figure out what some of the lacy underthings were supposed to look like. Some of them had buckles and straps, and there were a lot of zippers that didn’t make much sense. He toyed with the idea of sorting by color, creating a rainbow of fuck-me outfits.

And there were plenty of boy clothes scattered in. That was a real mystery. A few sweaters he’d understand. But there were pants there. And shirts. Had men arrived and then left half-clothed? Also confusing was the inconsistent sizing—some of the bras were truly enormous and had to have cost a lot of money. Whatever tits went in there needed a ton of support.

He glanced, curious, into the wastebasket. Emmett half expected a jellyfish of used condoms. He hoped for it—it would be gross enough to make his dick calm down. But no—the trash was the only thing empty.

Sarah’s moans went up an octave and passed into a more fevered pitch. She wasn’t coming out of that shower anytime soon.

Emmett’s crotch hurt. He needed to cum. He had never felt like this—a feverish need to empty out. His hands were weirdly wet from sorting clothes, and his forehead was damp with sweat. He could smell something hot on the steam leaking out of the shower.

Sarah’s study was just big enough for a desk and a few bookshelves. It was blessedly clean. Emmett stumbled into the room, sat down, and pulled his shorts down. He had to cum. He’d clean it up. Sarah didn’t have to know. And then off to the doctor.

He didn’t notice the thick layer of dust on every surface.

Sarah hadn’t noticed she was getting dim for some time.

After the Tucker incident she’d made rules for herself. The aftermath had scared her enough to make a renewed effort on her own sexualized behavior. She even wrote down the rules in large handwriting, and posted them next to her computer. First: no gum until after school. Second: no sex until graduation. Three: grades came first. And for a few weeks the rules were easy enough to stick to. Getting a load of spunk unloaded down her throat had been both embarrassing and hot enough to keep her satisfied. Something about the incident had—she tried not to think about—recharged the gum. It was briefly enough to go to school, tease the boys with her nice growing tits, come home and masturbate, and then watch TV in a gum haze.

In retrospect she was fooling herself. Especially on the terms of her evolving body. It wasn’t normal to go up two cup sizes in two weeks. She comforted herself that the rate of growth was slowing down—but the math of it was making her already overstuffed head increasingly achy. The problem was, they felt too good to get mad at. Any trip to the doctor would involve a humiliating session where she gasped and came because some man was fondling her tits. Better to keep that a hot masturbation fantasy.

And the clothes she was buying were definitely unsustainable. For the first time in her life she was carrying credit card balances, and they were just getting bigger and bigger. So were her bras, her measurements all around. None of her old jeans fit anymore, not that she wanted to wear them. She told herself they were all gross from j/o sessions, ignoring that they wouldn’t even fit over her ass.

If she was being realistic, she’d know that attending class had mostly turned into inducing boners out of the boys. Sarah hadn’t made a note in a week and a half. She doodled on her pad—stick figure Sarahs with absurdly large circle tits, stick figure boys with equally outsized cartoon penises. The lecture hall was tiered, so anyone walking underneath her could glance over and see a lot of Sarah. She loved keeping her legs wide open, even when wearing short shorts. There was something obvious and hot about a girl who didn’t bother to keep her legs crossed.

Sarah told herself that she was on top of it. She told herself that a lot. It helped that she was noticing more and more other people chewing gum. Pink, popping gum. Tucker, for one. Tucker had taken to wearing tanktops, and was obviously hitting the gym. He kept giving her speculative looks that she kept avoiding. Yes, she had enjoyed him dousing her with spunk. Yes, she wanted more. Yes, the sight of his broad, muscular shoulders made her pussy spark. But this was classtime. Tucker was kept distracted by the other girls in class, who were also favoring short, shiny, and cute. The few remaining studious girls kept frowning, distracted by the sound and scent of popping bubbles.

That was the big difference—she wasn’t chewing gum during the day. Yes, she was practically running back to the apartment to jam it in her mouth. Yes, going without left her with a big fat headache that only flirting seemed to mildly help with. But she wasn’t some bimbo with her mouth brainless and open.

Sarah realized she was getting kinda dumb when a test came back with a big fat F on it.

A major quiz. There was no way she was getting out of the class with a half-decent grade.

Her blood ran cold. She’d really meant to study for it. Designated study time had turned into a lazy mix of handplay and buzzing vibration. “Can I meet with you to discuss my grade?” she said, hopefully, after class. The professor was youngish and sort of cute, in a daddy sort of way. Well-fitted dress shirts and slacks. She herself wore a jean mini and suede boots, with a sort of low-cut top that only had one strap over her shoulder. It had been on sale because the look made no sense. On the other hand, it showed off her boobs.

“My office hours are online,” he’d said.

This time she had, for the first time, taken the gum out of the apartment. It was going to be the last hurrah. After tonight it went in the garbage. She’d toss it in the toilet at school. But blowing her professor was a big move and she needed the confidence. Plus she was well aware that jizz enhanced flavor.

There was another girl already there, in a very cute romper with blue and white bubbles all over it. She had blonde streaks all through her hair. Sarah had been finding them too. She figured it was some sort of precursor to going grey. First you went bright blonde, then you went full grey-hair. That made sense.

She was chewing gum just as loudly as Sarah. They looked at each other, intent, popping bubbles in an odd but calming hello.

“Office hours?” Sarah said. The girl was damn cute. Not only was she another gum aficionado, she sported the same wet-gloss lipstick look.

“Ummmm. Yeah. Hi Sarah.”

“Hi… uh…” DId she know this girl?

“Katie! You don’t remember me?”

She remembered a serious, studious girl that always sat in the front row and had her hand up. Heck, Sarah was much the same, she just preferred the back, and figured questions were for the weak. Plus that girl was usually an island of sweaters and tautly combed and pinned hair. Not carefree romper girl.

“Right… right,” Sarah said. “I was going to… see about my grade.” It seemed best to be honest. She felt in her heart that Katie knew exactly what was going on. “Gonna try and turn an F into an A.”

“Uh, yeah, samesies,” the girls compared quizzes. Yep, and they even were both using pink pencils. Sarah entertained thoughts of kissing. Not because it was THAT hot. Although it sort of was. Maybe she could steal Katie’s gum, mid-kiss.

“We could… work together. On our grades,” Katie suggested. There was a light in her eyes. So they were REALLY in accord.

“But then we won’t get an A. He’ll have to like, divvy it up. We’ll get Cs or something,” Sarah pointed out.

They both contemplated that. “I bet if we try really hard, we can get a C+,” Katie said, finally.

Hand in hand, pussies leaking, they walked inside.

Emmett was too far gone to consider what he was doing. He jacked furiously on a beet-red, distended cock. He wasn’t approaching rational thought. At some point he had picked up a pair of wet panties. The smell was driving him entirely wild. It was degraded and weird behavior he would not have considered, he was sure, ten or fifteen minutes ago.

His plans to quietly jack off into the toilet were out the window. To the extent he had a plan, it was to jizz all over the panties, and then steal them. But he was seriously entertaining the idea of howling while cumming wildly all over the room.

His arm knocked the mouse, which turned on the computer. There was a picture of a bald, wet pussy as the background. It was enough to get Emmett’s very distracted attention. Old internet porn routines kicked in, and he put his free hand on the mouse.

There were dozens of folders on the desktop, on top of various bits of genitalia. All of them labeled by date. And inside, pictures upon pictures upon pictures. And videos, lots of videos. Emmett slowed down his rhythm. He barely noticed the first squirt of goopy cum flowing out of a dick that was much too big to be his.

This he definitely had to see.

Katie knew a lot of people. A lot of people who chewed gum.

“It’s CLEARLY doing something to make us so much sexy fun and awesome hot,” Katie told her, in her apartment. The professor had cum all over their faces and then sternly told them he had no intention whatsoever of raising their grades. That had been disappointing, but then the two of them had gotten back to Sarah’s apartment, and between each other’s thighs.

It wasn’t really SEX, Sarah told herself, later on. And not just because Katie wasn’t a boy. It just didn’t have the same hot-intense sex emotion. They were just licking each other for fun. It was like grooming.

“I know!” Sarah told her, relieved. “I’ve been measuring my titties, they’re CLEARLY getting bigger.” She pulled up her shirt for emphasis.

Katie kneaded them for a bit. That led to both girls getting distracted for awhile longer. Katie’s boobs were also bulging and wonderful. Girls were so soft.

“Right,” Katie said, eventually. “I’m seeing the gum all over the place too. Like all the smart girls in like all the classes are chewing it and everyone’s walking around in thigh highs doling out blowies. But here’s the really crazy part.”

Sarah waited, her mouth open.

“The boys are into it too. It gives them HUGE penises.”

“How big are we talking?” Sarah whispered.

Katie indicated with her hands.

“Can I meet any of them? For research?”

“I,” Katie paused for dramatic effect. “Have their PHONE NUMBERS.”

By about two hours later Sarah was underneath her third boy, and having an extremely good time. Katie hadn’t been kidding about the penises. The boys all arrived with similar swagger, with similar muscles, and once they quickly shucked their shorts, very large and masculine dicks. They were clearly very proud of them.

True, as Katie had warned, most of their brainpower was going into fueling enormous cocks and equally bulging balls. They weren’t into much besides fucking Katie and Sarah into the ground. But that was okay. First of all, because getting nine or ten glorious inches into her was exactly as good as Sarah had hoped, and her screams were exactly as loud as she could produce. Second, Katie had explained exactly how to make it all part of science.

“Take photos. And videos,” Her new best friend specified, while getting bent over Sarah’s table. “We need to chronicle it. Some of us are trying to find out who is doing this. Plus we’re gonna go to the doctor at some point to be like, we got big titties now.”

So it was part of the struggle to film and document her own repeated penetration. Sarah did her best, pointing the camera down to where an enormous penis was pistoning between her own thighs. It felt amazing. And she was getting very good footage. This dovetailed so nicely with her own meticulous documentation of her own increasing bust size.

“Ass, too,” Katie said. She slapped her own rear. They were both naked and lazing around. “Bounce a quarter off of it. That’s new. Clit is bigger. You probably can’t measure it but… bigger. LOTS bigger.”

“Has anyone at all… just thrown the gum away?” Sarah said.

Katie looked at her, and laughed. They both laughed.

Sarah finished cumming.

One of the nice things about being a bimbo was that she could move quickly from gasping, shuddering orgasm to whatever was next in stride. There were times, after fucking, that she’d forgotten there was another cock already in her butt, or whatever. Lost track of the penises. Of course she’d showered the unfortunate dick with apologies, and usually spit, but overall it was helpful. If she was a useless mess after each cum she’d never get out of bed.

Sarah pulled her fingers free, sniffed them casually, and toweled off. Droplets of water hung proudly on the very tips of her nipples. She was finally starting to feel like herself—horny, relaxed, the early edge of waking up too soon burning away. That sense of wrongness, waking up in some insane slut’s body, was long gone. The slut was her.

Still, it was early enough that she simply put on a pair of panties on the ground—they were PROBABLY hers, she had some faint memories of them—and a faded t-shirt with some anime design she no longer recognized. Her wet tits soaked the front. It wasn’t a bad look, for two seconds notice. Then she went to see who the guy was.

There were a lot of problems, becoming such a dumb slut. Reading was a real fuckin challenge. Who the hell knew how much money she had. It was still faintly humiliating to count on her fingers, and if she found herself between boys… as in, not ENOUGH boys… it wasn’t like she could just go read a book to pass the time.

On the other hand, Sarah had a truly good memory now for names and faces. She could look a guy in the face and remember that she had last seen him as one of three guys blowing loads on her face at three in the morning, and that he had the biggest dick in the crowd.

“Emmett!” she said, pleased at the boy she found in the study. He had his pants around his ankles, his head had lolled back, half-limp, and his red-light dick was still quietly dribbling goop onto her floor. There was skeet on the walls. Sarah inhaled. No, she’d never sucked his dick before. That was another fun benefit. Every boy tasted a little different.

“Sarah… I’m… sorry... “ he mumbled. He looked up, confused. “Sarah?”

He’d left for some sort of vacation or whatever a few weeks ago, and had missed out on ALL the fun. But that was okay. New boys were a treat.

“Emmett! This is a hell of a mess!” she said, mock-angry. “Am I going to have to lick up all this cum BY MYSELF?”

Once she had started to look around, gum chewers were everywhere on campus. It quickly turned into a hot and fun little game.

Most of them weren’t hard to spot. Some girl with visible underboob, that was a surefire. Anyone in clubwear in the middle of the day, on a Tuesday. Heels higher than four inches, mesh shirts, obviously too-tight bras. The boys tended to be harder tells. Many college guys had hardons and gym muscles and a casual attitude towards sex anyway. But there were clues for the discerning girl. Sarah liked to hit them with a wink—any guy chewing tons of sexy gum altered their path right away. And then the gigantic bulge in their pants, another great way to find out.

Sarah quickly realized that it was her role in combating the great gum menace to put all of these isolated men and women together.

She would let them know—they didn’t have to do all this growing and stroking in the dark, alone and afraid. Like her. They definitely didn’t have to watch porn in the dark, soaking the couch, wondering half-scared what was happening to them. There were answers and support ready for them. Just as soon as Sarah got them unzipped and polished off.

Part of her was still wary about her new hobby of blowing every gum-chewing guy on campus. But whatever was in the stuff, it made the men extremely single-minded. They weren’t going to give over their numbers for her growing contact list otherwise. Heck, they probably didn’t remember their phone numbers until they’d dumped a quart in her. The men were all ferocious, needy cocks and buckets of cum, and little else, until she had at least released the pressure valve.

They were always apologetic and worried, right after cumming. “I’m so sorry,” they’d gasp, half the time, big prongs dangling between their legs. “It’s this… this gum… I started chewing and my penis started getting bigger and I just… and now I NEED this,” Sarah would nod and wipe jism out of her face. Usually the boy was over his embarrassment and ready to fuck her a few minutes later, apologies forgotten.

It was encouraging also that her physical growth had leveled off. True, she was just shy of cartoonish, especially her high-riding tits. She was sporting plenty of underboob herself. But at least the titty growth seemed done, and the rest of her was apparently settling in. The girl in the mirror looked profoundly dim, naturally overendowed and madly fertile, blessed with curves and nothing else. It was going to be a shock to the academic establishment when Sarah released her thesis on gum effects on male and female users, and got a triple-dipple PhD.

On the other hand the inaugural meetings of the anti-gum society were not going well.

The boys just could not take the idea seriously. They showed up to Sarah’s apartment with six-packs, both beer and their own abs, and were obviously there just to horse around and fuck. It got so that the girl contingent insisted on blowing the guys on arrival, so they could concentrate on the matters at hand. It didn’t help. Katie was barely through the agenda—passing out the agenda—when some guy had his hand on her ass, pulling her onto his lap. And then Sarah would find herself on her much-abused couch, grinding into some super-hot guy and his mega-thick cock.

They were partying at her place just about every day. It was a lot of fun. It wasn’t clear who was leaving ever more packs of gum outside, although they were useful for research and also for chewing gum. There was nothing better than picking out a fresh stick with a couple of guys, letting the flavor wash over them, and then spreading her legs.

There was an unfortunate incident when a neighbor tried to stop the meetings. It was about midnight, or whatever, and they were six hours in to planning resistance. At the time, Sarah was exploring the research question of whether she could physically manage one of the biggest cocks inside of her butt. They were all learning a lot. Someone simply walked through the open door.

She was presumably a fellow student, or at least that age. Sarah dimly recognized her own past self—serious, horrified expression. Thick chubby sweater. Surrounded instantly by horny men, who saw girls mostly as holes.

“Stop this!” she hollered out, wandering through the noise and the sex, confused. Sarah figured the smell was about to get to her. They were sweating gum-scent out of their pores, lately, it was all in the spreadsheet. “I’ll call the police!”

THAT was more of a concern. They couldn’t allow that. They were so close to a breakthrough. Katie had figured that there were gum outbreaks at college campuses all across the country. If they could just link together… but the damn COPS couldn’t get involved.

It was harsh, but there was only one solution. The girl was breathing hard, eyes darting at all the men pistoning into very willing partners, the exposed muscles. It was nothing at all to pop a nice new stick of gum into her mouth, and follow it up with a warm, friendly hello kiss.

The girl started to chew almost right away.

It was extremely hot. Any reservations Sarah might’ve had about addicting somebody to a bimbo fuckdrug were blown away by how the girl melted into her arms. And the endorphin blast of adding a new friend to the team.

By the end of the night the neighbor was willingly spitroasted by both Jeremy and Colin. Sarah was delighted. She had learned something new: the gum’s effects were getting stronger.

“Sarah, we have to get out of here. It’s… look what it’s done to you!”

Sarah had given him the whole story. Or, the short version. Gum bimbo, blah blah blah.

“Yeah-huh,” Sarah said. She didn’t laugh at men as a rule, but she couldn’t hide a shy smirk. “It’s somethin huh? This body is sooooo fuckin crazy!” She bounced her titties with fond emphasis. “It’s like a sex rollercoaster!”

“It’s… it’s fucked up,” was the best Emmett could manage. “You look.. You look like THAT, Sarah! We have to GO!”

Boys were so cute when they were being indignant on her behalf. Pretending to hate the sex bomb she’d turned into, promising big promises about making everything right and fixing the entire isuse.

Sarah had honestly believed the first few to tell her that. This was after she had decided on a new research project: putting gum into the mouths of people that didn’t have gum in them. It wasn’t very moral but it was VERY hot and always led to frantic, gum-chewing girls and boys trying to figure out why they were so hot and horny. Most of them went through a sort of sped-up rebellion phase. One boy had made it as far as city limits, chewing madly, before groaning and burying his face in Sarah’s tits.

Emmett wasn’t going to get any farther than the front door, she figured. First of all, he still had his cock out, which made all his talk pretty lame. What kind of white knight couldn’t even stuff his dick back in his pants? And he’d done nothing but choke a sort of horny gasp when she’d scooped some jism off the tip of his dick and swallowed it. He wasn’t even chewing yet. Kind of sad.

“We’ll..” he made a half-hearted effort to pull his pants up, and another to stick his penis into his boxer shorts. He failed twice. “We’ll just drive. Run out of gas. Throw the gum away and go, any direction.”

“Yeah huh,” Sarah said, twisting a lock of hair. “Sure! Sounds like fun.”

“Sarah, I’m sorry, I didn’t know about any of this, I missed a few weeks of class and I came back and everyone is dressed like… you... “

Emmett gathered himself up. It was a little touching. He’d been breathing in gum-fug for awhile, and the latest batch was the most potent yet. She’d given a stick to the rude professor she’d blown for nothing, and he’d started roaring as he spurted. “Lets go. Right now.” Aw, they were so dominant. Already his body was thicker, harder. His collar looked tight. Poor boy.

“Baby,” Sarah said. She leaned forward and took hold of his cock. “Why would I stop? I loooooove… being… a lil….. fucky…... bimbo.”

It had eventually gotten through to Sarah’s head that she was just a dumb bimbo slut and she should stop playing around with the whole rebellion shit.

In retrospect she was the only one even trying for at least a week. Katie barely even talked when she came over. Typically she installed herself in a corner with her mouth open and an arrow written on her cheeks with a sharpie. Pointing helpfully at her holes. The other girls just found surfaces to back onto. Sarah’s apartment was one of the best, everyone agreed. Always someone to do, and best of all, new sticks of gum on demand, and you could just take whatever clothes fit off the floor.

That maybe explained why the boys humored her, and her photography and measurements of their cocks, and so on. Or maybe it was because she reliably came back from another expedition with new meat, all ditzed up and horny and fresh. New flavors for Katie to sample. It was possible, Sarah considered, that this meant she was the dumbest one around, as everyone else was just fucking with abandon.

It was also possible that it took like a thousand loads of cum, pounded into her, before she picked up on it. Or whatever it was.

The realization came to her at like four in the morning. It was perhaps the longest single day of sex that Sarah could remember. A robotics club or what-not from a separate University had arrived for a scheduled meet, and found a campus full to the brim with very attractive men and women. The competition had been cancelled, or, more accurately, forgotten about. Before leaving, which they should’ve, someone had chatted up a girl who had happened to wave a stick of gum under their noses.

Horny, transforming, confused, the entire squad had ended up at Sarah’s place, still in their old and increasingly tight clothes. The boys and girls, chewing madly, were clearly trying to process it all as some sort of wild and fun party. Refusing to acknowledge the dicks sprouting before their eyes, the too-tight bras, the way their butts didn’t fit in baggy jeans. They’d done their best to get drunk, hitting up a liquor store, to make it seem less insane.

But by dinner time it was all becoming the usual grunts and orgasms. Not a single one was wearing the glasses they’d come in with. Nora the little russian girl had started rubbing Jared’s cock through the jeans, in front of everyone, and it had broken the ice. Tessa and Colleen had started to make out, then switched to a full 69 on Sarah’s rug. The boys had unleashed penises they couldn’t quite believe, and found girls they’d been so nice to, fellow robotics enthusiasts, purring and desperate to stick them inside, huge as they were.

And then the usual crowd had shown up. The last time Sarah had spotted Nora, over on the balcony, she was buck naked and riding one of the regulars, her tits practically expanding with each thrust.

Sarah knew she was overdoing it, even for her.

But the realization hit her hard: this was it. This was her everything. There was a large soggy wad in her mouth. The gum. It was hard to even consider it, it was like thinking about her own tongue. But it had made her this—the big-boobed vacant stare girl getting reamed in the mirror. Doing anal without giving it any thought. There were cocks and pussies everywhere around.

The realization stopped her motion, which earned her a slap on the ass from an annoyed Jared, who was trying hard to push through to the other side. But Sarah came to a sort of epiphany. As much of an epiphany as a brain-sucked, addicted bimbo could really have.

And then she’d gone to bed, and someone had woken her up pounding on the door like, an hour later.

“I like it,” she said, sliding onto Emmett’s dick. This was a nice chair. Why had she kept the office off-limits, for so long? They needed anything they could to fuck on. “I like this, I like what I am. It’s hot, and fun, and guess what? It’s me now.”

Emmett put two trembling hands on her waist. “Sarah, that’s the addiction talking. That’s… unghh… you’re so TIGHT.”

“Yeah, I’m soooo tight,” she said. This was fun. It was always fun. Obviously he’d just fuck her, she didn’t need to say anything. But Sarah wanted to explain herself, just a little. “I’m a fun little fuck, baby. Your little pussy girl. And it feels soooo good and you know what? I was just a nobody who read books. Now I’m the queen bimbo bitch of town and I can. Fuck. Anyone.”

His dick was already pushing hard into her. It was half of what she was used to, but that was fine. It’d get bigger. And maybe she’d have him lick her out. The full gum boys tended to find that beneath them.

“Someone is giving us this stuff, and it’s everywhere,” Sarah said. His fingers dug into her waist. “Everyone is chewing it. Like, we’re all getting so hot and horny and fuck-wet. Aren’t you excited to see how far it goes? When everyone is just a big dumb slut like me and you? I think it’s going to be SUPER fun to find out.”

“I’m not like you,” Emmett said, adorable little fear flashing in his eyes.

“Oh, you’re PERFECT,” Sarah said. She kissed him. They locked there, fiercely, him increasingly desperate for her.

She knew what she tasted like. Sweet, addictive, candy. And he could enjoy her all day long.