The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jess Sampson bent over, her hands on her knees gasping and coughing for breath. She had only jogged a quarter of a mile through the park and she was ready to collapse.

“So much for getting into shape.” Jess grumbled as soon as her panting subsided.

Regaining her composure she removed the scrunchie from her hair and undid her ponytail, freeing her golden locks fall about her shoulders like the sun’s golden rays. Her hair was her best feature. Other than that, there was not much to look at. She might have some pleasing features, but these and all of her form were buried beneath unflattering fat. Occasionally, she resolved to do something about her weight, only to be defeated by the intense exertion of exercise. Now was just such a moment. The run had taken too much effort and she was ready to give up.

Jess started to redo her ponytail when the hair on the back of her neck stood on end in a alert of possible danger. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see someone staring at her. She jumped up but sighed in relief after a good look at her stalker—a statue of a muscle bound man with his arms fixed in a body building pose. Beside it was a placard reading, “City Arts Society Presents: Bodies in Motion, Sculptures by Alesandro.”

Intrigued, Jess walked over to make a closer inspection. The figure was exceedingly life like,a mountain of muscles, a bathing suit sparing him from being nearly entirely nude. It was s real to life, Jess had to confirm with her touch that it was a stony statue and not someone painted to look like one.

Jess figured that it would take a while to recover from her “run” so she might as well see the rest of the exhibition. She walked into a square, walled by tall shrubs and carpeted by hard stony gray square tiles, several square feet in size. Placed in no particular pattern throughout the square were a dozen or so statues of men and women, fixed in a pose from some sport or exercise, some made out of stone, others made out of metal. One was a steel man with his body twisted in preparation of hurling a discus. A woman made of gray granite was caught mid-stride as she readied to hurl a javelin. A male of bronze had been cast with a football cradled in one arm had the other extended as if to block an invisible tackler. A female of glossy red marble stood with her arms out stretched and her head bent back like a gymnast who has just sprung off a balancing beam at the end of her routine. Unlike the figure she had seen outside the square, these figures were entirely naked, all cut to the perfection of an Adonis or Venus.

Jess admired the features of the statues for their capture of perfection in form rather than their quality as art. She particularly enjoyed the well endowed foot ball player, with his skin of polished bronze, his barrel like chest and the rippled muscles of his trunk-like arms and legs.

The whisper of a deep groan floating through the air like a gentle breeze took Jess by surprise. She quickly looked around for its creator, but there was no one else in the square but her and the statues.

Jess shrugged. “I must be hearing things. Maybe I am dehydrated.” She figured, though not entirely sure hearing things was a symptom of dehydration or not. She moved closer to the football player and felt his rocky chest.

The deep groan sung more loudly.

Jess jumped away from the statue and the voice disappeared with just as immediate suddenness.

“Fuck!” She exclaimed. “The noise is coming from the statue.”

Jess slid her hand down one of the statues arms to test her theory. The groan sung around them as if in appreciation,

“This so is totally fucked up.” Jess giggled, continuing to stroke the statue, eliciting different types of unctuous sounds.

The deep moan hung about them as she touched him, rising and falling with the fullness of her touch. Playfully, she let her finger slide down below his waist and onto his thick penis. The groan tuned into deep growl. She stroked the metallic phallus and the voice responded with deep with lustful grunts, growing faster and louder. She giggled as she led the statue to toward climax, curious to see if he would cum but his grunts just hit a repetitive level and she lost interest. As she walked away, the voice around the statute dissipated like a departing apparition, sounding out a mournfully disappointed moan.

Jess was curious to see if any of the other statues responded in the same way as her rejected bronze football player. She walked to the female gymnast and waved her hand back and forth over the hard woman’s chest. A light whisper of a high-pitched cry rose and sung around them. Jess smiled with the glee of a naughty child as her hand played over the woman’s nipple, making the voice turn into a squeal. Next she let it fall to the red hard crotch of the athlete making the voice rise and tremble as she stroked there.

“You like?”

Jess nearly jumped a foot in the air and fell against the statue. She turned around, regaining her composure and footing, and found a small, olive skinned man with thick curly hair and a goatee, eying her with an amused smile. He was wear a tight v-necked shirt and threadbare jeans. On his wrist was a thick, golden bracelet studded with colored gems.

“You like?” He asked again, his words thick with an accent Jess could not place geographically.

“Yes.” She stammered. “I like.”

“Good!” The man said enthusiastically. “I am Alesandro. I am arteest. I make theese statues.”

“Ah.” Jess replied. “They certainly are, erm, lifelike. You don’t see that much these days.”

The man stamped his foot. “Life ees Alesandro’s art! Art should look like life! Alesandro speets on the abstract!” He said after which he spat on the ground for emphasis.

Now it was Jess’ turn to be amused. “I agree with you there.”

Alesandro continued, “Art not eemmitate life, art ees life and life must become art.”

“Uh huh.” Jess replied. The man was a little unhinged like many artists she had met. It was time to break off the conversation before she found herself trapped in an hours-long diatribe on the meaning of art .

“Alesandro bring out the art in life.” He gestured to the gymnast statue. “Zees one, she dreamed of zees form, Alesandro captured dream, give eet form, make her form.”

“She modeled for you is what you are trying to say.” Jess interjected as she edged a little further toward the exit

The man arched an eyebrow in irritation. “No, she ees form, became form, became statue. Best way to capture form.”

Jess now backed away more deliberately. “Okay, someone took their crazy pills this morning.” She said while trying to decide whether he was regular crazy and she should walk away or he was dangerous crazy and she should run.

The man seemed to understand her intent and smiled. Fingering the jeweled bracelet, he told her, “You not understand. Alesandro demonstrate, demonstrate on you.”

Jess decided he fell on the dangerous side of crazy and she had better run. She covered a few feet of ground when the tile upon which she was stepping took on a bright yellow glow. As each foot fell on the tile, the sole became solidly fixed to it as if glued there.

As Jess frantically attempted to free herself, a coolness, the temperature of a mid-fall breeze, swept up her calves and thighs. Wherever she felt that sensation touch, control of her body left her. As it moved past her waist, her legs became immovable as pillars. She tugged at her thighs fruitlessly as if that would get them moving but they did not budge. The coolness was up to her chest now and she flung her arms about wildly, putting her head back as if she were trying to stay above water, gasping for air, screaming for help. The coolness captured her in mid-motion her mouth now stuck in a silent scream. Her eyes darted about, straining to look around her now that her head could not move. In her frozen position, she appeared as if she were caught in a horrible free fall from some deathly height.

The man studied her a few moments as she stood frozen in this awkward position and then tapped some gems on his bracelet. “Off with zee clothes.” He declared. In an instant, Jess’s panic disappeared and she found herself focused on removing her clothing with as much ease as if she were doing it a gym, discarding her track suit, jogging bra and panties. After the last article had fallen from her hands, her arms dropped to her sides and she stood mutely, staring straight ahead. Her mind returned to her as did her fright and astonishment at this strange man’s weird power over her. Added to this was the embarrassment of possibly being found nude in public. As much as she hoped that someone would stumble upon them and rescue her, she feared the reaction of anyone coming to her aid, to her fat body exposed for all the world to see. She knew she should not care at all what her captor thought of her, but she was relieved that he showed no look of amusement or disgust at seeing her this way. Instead, he inspected her carefully and clinically, like a doctor giving a physical.

Alesandro touched his bracelet again and closed his eyes. “Now let me zee what we have in zere.” Jess felt his presence bore into her mind, drilling into its depths and scattering her thoughts like they were errant moths. Deep he reached into that well, through consciousness and subconsciousness, until he hooked what he wanted and pulled it out, making it grow as it came. The vision’s features became clear to her mind: it was an image of herself but an idealized one, the ultimate figure and look she had always wanted but had been unable to obtain. The image grew and grew until it overwhelmed her mind’s eye, passing over her like a wave. It crested against her body’s outline, vibrating against it, molding the outside it like a cast reverse.

She could not see the changes. She did not need to. The feel of her body told her how she was being reformed. Fat evaporated or was moved or remade into muscle. No longer did she feel her weight’s draining, ever constant battle against gravity. No longer did she wear jelly-like rolls of flesh at her sides, no longer were her arms swollen, soft and weak. Even unmoving, she felt light and energized, her new form tightly wrapped in a catlike litheness. If she could have taken off at a sprint, she felt as if she could run for miles at a fraction of the speed it would have taken her original body.

She could also tell that she had not become the mirror image of her ideal. Alesandro apparently had some ability to make input as well and liberally exercised the option. Jess could tell, for example, that she was heavy in the bust, but not with the bloated bagginess that afflicted her original bosom. Her new tits were huge but gracefully inviting in their perfectly plump roundness. They were jaunty bobbed pleasantly with each breath. As large as they were the did not drag or cause her back to ache like her heavy weight loaded breasts. The narrows of her waist were much slimmer than she had ever thought possible and slightly broader shoulders and a slightly broader waist gave it the illusion of being much thinner. She had always cursed her legs for being short; now they they were like graceful towers ascending to a firmly sleek ass.

Alesandro inspected his work as the new Jess stood in complete frozen passivity. “Now for zee pose.” The artist informed her as he stepped forward. He raised her arms high, turned her palms upwards and interlaced her fingers above her head. He manipulated her to give her back a snake-like arch and moved her legs closer together, bending one just a bit. Her limbs easily obeyed his direction yet her joints remained stiff to hold the pose that he created. The stance he manufactured had the effect of an erotic stretch, making her throw forth her new ample tits for display.

“God! It’s like he is using me like I am a frickin’ doll!” Jess murmured silently to herself, both appalled and amazed by the power he was wielding over her. She also found herself surprisingly grateful. She was completely vulnerable to his whim. In this condition, there was no limit to the ways he could take advantage of her. Yet, Alesandro was more interested in his brand of art to be tempted by darkly salacious designs. He showed no inclination for the temptations that a more unsavory soul would grasp.

Alesandro nodded with a pleased expression at her final stance. He touched some more gems and lifted his palm toward Jess. “Now let uz think...granite...bronze....no marble. Yes, white marble!” As his decision was decreed a bolt of white light out from his palm and struck Jess in the chest. She expected pain but there was none, instead the feeling that someone had laid something heavy there, like a large dictionary. This new feeling spread throughout her body, returning a sense of weight but a kind that was much different than body fat...it was as if she was becoming...dense. It flowed up her chest and down her legs and she knew that she was becoming like the other figures in the garden.

“A statue...I am becoming a statue.” She admitted to herself, yet she did so without the terror that she expected she might have. Instead, she submitted to acceptance. The sensation flowed over her face, her sight now completely fixed and unshuttered by blinking. Perhaps the strangest part of it for her was having the waviness of her hair give way to solidity and weight. As her feet bonded her to the the tile upon which she stood, she hardly noticed that she had stopped breathing nor that she didn’t even need to anymore. The thump of her heart suddenly stopped yet she did not die. She could not see herself but she imagined she looked like a more natural and realistic version of those white stoned statues from ancient Greece that she had seen in art books. Had she ever thought about it before now, she would have believed that becoming a statue would cut her off completely from her senses. This was true to a limited extent. She could no longer access her taste and her vision was frozen in an unblinking stare at one part of the sculpture garden. Strangely, she could still hear and smell. Stranger still was that her sense of touch was heightened in amazing ways. The wind’s caress of her stony form made her being throb with intense exhilaration. Sound waves from a bird’s song to the din of distant traffic cascaded against her marble flesh setting off ecstatic tremors through her solid interior. The combined effect of these surges of feeling achieved a weird meditative trance. Whenever she tried to make a thought, contemplating her new state, a sensation created by a breeze or a noise broke it apart and sent the pieces drifting away as she savored the ecstasy they created within her. After a few moments, she gave up trying to think at all and surrendered to enjoying her new sensations.

As wonderful as the Jess statue felt from the sounds and touch of her environment, these were nothing compared to what happened when lunch-hour visitors began to arrive in the garden. A prolonged glance had a tangible presence for her, bathing her in a pleasant fertile warmth akin to the first spring day after a long cold winter. It was so intoxicating that if she still had a human will she might succumb to that feeling’s addiction. Her enticing hard ghostly milk-white body attracted many long stares from different directions, from men and women. She drank the looks in, savoring the glorious rush they imparted upon her. As she absorbed the visitors’ gazes, she might also have sensed the envy of her sister and brother statues who lusted after such attention in their own witless states.

Most wonderful of all was the touch of skin against her stone. Most visitors respectfully refrained from feeling the artwork, but one man, a wavy-haired youth with tight clothes that showed off his muscles, waited until he was alone in the garden to take his liberties with the Jess-statue. He placed his hands on her hard shoulders and slid them over her cool white surface, over her large breasts.

The flesh and blood Jess could count the number of times she had been kissed on two hands—seven (five men and two women). She could count the number of times she had had sex on one—three (two men, one woman). Most of her orgasmic experience came from what she could manufacture with her hands or a vibrator. What coursed through her stony interior at his touch made those experiences pale shadows in comparison. It felt as if he taken her very soul in his hands, massaging it tenderly and sending wave after wave of sheer ecstasy throbbing through her. His touch took her to ever increasing summits of rapture, holding her at each one, but denying her any hope of climax. The immense elation found a voice in high-pitched octave like a solitary angel that sung out from within her, that sound hovering in the air around them, enveloping them. The young man fell was hypnotized by the delicious sound, as if he had succumbed to a siren’s song, captivated he manipulated it by speeding and slowing his strokes. When other visitors arrived to intrude upon his sensual statute massage, he receded from her and disappeared from the garden. Her song turned into a disappointed wail that trailed off into non-existence as she drifted upon the glances of the new onlookers..

As a statue, Jess’ recognition of time’s passage had been erased. If she could voice the answer to a question, even in her thoughts, she could not have told you if she had been petrified for a day or for an eternity. There was only the maelstrom of sensation that her environment constantly drenched upon her like a monsoon rain. Through those surges of sound and touch, the visits from her admirer stood out like thunder claps and lightning strikes, vast increases of tumult of the tempest that stormed invisibly inside of her.

The sensations increased and diminished over the hours of the day but they each left an accretion that was building and building. She was becoming like an over saturated sponge reaching the point where it could absorb no more. A thinking person might believe they would explode when they reached that state and would do so knowing that they had obtained the most glorious experience imaginable and nothing else in life could possibly compare to it.

She never reached that point. One day she feel sounds and touches she had not yet experienced. Her vision was changing because she was being moved. Something covered her and through into darkness. There was a hammering sound, voices and then a grinding rumble. The novelty did not matter to the Jess statue. The new sensations were her food and she enjoyed them; she could not ask where they came from nor why.

There was movement again and finally she was brought to a stop and uncovered. She gazed blankly at her fellow statues arranged in a circle in a large warehouse room. Alesandro walked into the center of the circle and raised the arm with his jeweled bracelet . The jewels flashed and glowed with a brilliant light that engulfed Alesandro and the whole room. Jess gasped and for the first time in a while inhaled a breath of air. Her cold heart beat once more. Her flesh warmed. She could even feel blood coursing through her veins. When the light disappeared, she let her arms fall from where it had been fixed at and flexed her right hand before her eyes, gazing at it in wonder as if it were something alien and not a part of her at all. There were stirrings around the room as in every place there had been a statue there was now an fantastically attractive nude man or woman.

Jess turned to face the man next to her, the well-built and well-endowed football player. All the sense that had that built within her now coalesced into the most incredible turn-on that blew apart her confusion and took a more primal form. She jumped the man, pressing her lips furiously against his, driving her tongue deep into his mouth. He hefted her up against him, pressing her back against the wall while she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. While she grunted like a beast, he plunged his hard dick into her slick pussy, too impatient for a stimulating invitation to become wet and hot. They fucked for hours and then he whirled away from her her, letting her sink to the floor. Like a snake, the former petrified gymnast wriggled her head and shoulders between Jess’s legs, wrapping her mouth around her cunt, sucking and teasing her clit with her tongue. Jess surrendered to the assault, arching her back, singing high-pitched moans as she squeezed her tits to add their flavor to the ecstasy that built within her. She came and came until they untwisted to join other former statues writhing together in knots of of writhing sweaty, cum-stained bodies. The sex went on for a day without rest. Sometimes Jess had multiple partners, sometimes just one, sometimes she masturbated while she watched others. They fucked and fucked as they worked off all the pent up sexual endergy they had stored up as statues.

Jess turned out to have more to work of than any of the others. Two exhausted men departed after doing her together, leaving her to her own devices. Reason eventually returned as the last of the energy was purged from her being. Dazed, she found a shower nearby and bathed for what must have been an hour. When she had dried off, she found that someone had left out a red dress, shoes and make up. After she had put on the dress and attended to doing up her face in a mirror, she paused. It was the first time she had seen herself since she had been transformed. She had always had a nice looking face even when fat, but with all the fleshiness gone she was positively radiant, her eyes a sparkling blue, her cheeks well crafted and red, her lips full and sensuous.

“You like?” A voice asked.

Jess found Alesandro watching her curiously.

“We get to keep the new body?” She asked.

The artist’s eyes narrowed, “You want old body back?”

“Oh no!” Jess blurted.

Alesandro breathed a sigh of relief. “Good! Alesandro no remembered what eet look like.”

He called her a cab and led her to the door.

“You have great look eenside you, now outside you . You want, Alesandro use you again.”

Jess took his hand to say goodbye, and then leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “Maybe someday.” She said and then left.

Jess had a grand time showing off her new sexy body to her friends and acquaintances. Everyone was so impressed, her boss was so flabbergasted he didn’t even fire her for being gone so long, without permission, like he had told his staff repeatedly he was going to do. The finer minded just assumed she had taken a vacation at a health spa; the lesser minded gossiped that she had gotten plastic surgery but had to admit she looked great.

Now freed from fat and weight, Jess found it much easier to keep up an exercise routine. Running was even a pleasure. One day she was running through the park when she came to a stop at the exact place where she had first seen the sign for Alesandro’s exhibition. Out of curiosity, she ventured into the square where she had been displayed. It was empty now except for a lone man, the very one that came so often to feel her marble form, sitting dejectedly with his heads in has hands as if waiting for someone who would not come.

She smiled. “Hey!” She said playfully. “Looking for someone.”

“Yeah.” He responded sadly. But then he looked at her and his jaw dropped. “Uh. Don’t I know you?”

Jess chuckled. “Probably. I do some modeling sometimes.”

The boy blushed so cutely that Jess wanted to kiss him on the spot.

“Hey, I know you don’t know me at all, but would you like to get coffee or something?”

“I would like that.” Jess said.