The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 6: Beestung

I couldn’t do it. I— I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t look at my sister in the window. She’d catch my eye, she’d juggle her titties—mmph—she’d taunt me over the edge. It was already enough that she was pouting like that. I could hear it in her voice. Words dripping off her bottom lip, baby-talk that had already… well you know.

And Dad. Avery. I still didn’t believe it. After all this, I still couldn’t believe Veronica had managed this. Could conceive of this. The girl who’d taken my virginity. The girl who’d left me, who I had cried over for six goddamn months. And Veronica must’ve known—heard. We share a bedroom wall. I wasn’t over her. I’m not… Our own Dad…

Something had changed Veronica. It had to still be her—only she would know me well enough to cut this deep. But whatever had been abusing us from the unseen abyss had seen it fit to twist her in this way. Malicious. Depraved. She was capable of anything, I believed, so long as it brought us lower. Was that still possible?

“It hurts, Veronica,” I spat through gritted teeth. If I grunted out my anger instead of pleaded, as perhaps was warranted, then I didn’t have to confront my new, apple-shiner voice. “Please just change me back. Change us back.”

She laughed. I was getting tired of that laugh, but my piddly excuse for a cock certainly wasn’t. “I told you where it is, sweetie,” Veronica tweaked her nipple in my peripheral. “All you have to do is grab it.”

I huffed, but it came out as a whimper. Avery—Dad—whomever this puppygirl thought she was—seemed determined to cheer me up. Crawled around me energetically, like the terrier in that old cartoon. It wasn’t helping. Every glance at that perfect body electrified my dink, flicked it against the sides of its cage.

She’d licked my cheek, earlier. Affectionate. Her hot breath, wet tongue—I dribbled before she’d retracted it back to her mouth, and again while it was drying in the cool air. My breasts were growing—plump, now. Fruitful. And with that second embarrassment—my thighs were thick. My chin small. I licked my lips and found them exaggerated. Beestung. My veins, buzzing with estrogen and dopamine. I’m, I breathed, getting high on femininity. I needed this to stop.

Fully erect, I wasn’t even filling the plastic anymore. Every orgasm: more cum, less cock. Even worse—what I could never admit but relished (a secret Veronica seemed to have picked up on): it felt so good to shrink. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt at all.

A key. That’s all I needed. A key to this thing clacking loosely around my pathetic member.

Veronica hadn’t told me anything. She’d shown me where it was. Leaned over. Pressed her ass cheeks against the glass and pulled them apart, her rosebud clenching in time with the spurts flicking out from my pink-plastic cock.

Recovering, I followed her eye-line over to the girl beside me. Avery. Dad. My salvation lay in her asshole.

I couldn’t do it.