The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

She hadn’t failed out, in her own mind. True, she had received a round of F grades, a call from someone official at the school, a series of e-mails from the registrar. But really Jennifer had quit on school first. It was more noble even then that—she had officially quit out on the world, giving the world notice that it was pointless, and bullshit.

At a certain point she had retreated to bed, most of her time spent agreeing with tweets about how it was crap that bodies needed to be cleansed and fed. At the same time she hesitated to call it depression: Jennifer was certain this was more ideological and philosophical. There was no meaning to changing her sweatshirt, or her pajama pants.

Eventually she had received notice that the dorms could not continue to accommodate her. She had left in a bus, carrying a backpack with purely essential electronics and one energy bar. Jennifer disdained the energy bar. She did not want energy. Leaving without even a water bottle had also been a deliberate move, although she eventually did get one out of a vending machine. A small one.

The bus ride was long enough for undeniable truths to hit her, one after the other. First: her college was too humdrum and low-average for her quitting to be anything other than pathetic. There was maybe some spark to huffing out of a Dartmouth or a Yale, like a budding F. Scott Fitzgerald. Dramatically leaving a middle-tier state school was just sad. Second: she had no idea what to do with the remainder of her life. She was twenty and a virgin, a newly bottled vintage already corked and sour. And she wasn’t even returning home. The family had moved to some cow town so her Dad could salvage some pride in his career. She’d be in a new bed.

Her symbolic return to the womb was already ruined, and further ruined when her sister answered the front door sporting whopping new tits.

They were like a joke, a pure non sequitur. A gag about returning to the bosom of family. Emmaline looked at her big sister with placid unconcern. Beneath her chin two enormous orbs were nearly constrained by a cheap halter top. They were huge.

“Heya sis,” Emmaline chirped. She was drinking from a juice box with a straw. “College didn’t go good, huh?”

“Uhhh,” Jennifer said, disturbed. The Emmaline she had left behind was a fellow traveler on the road to indie rebellion. Indeed, Jennifer had hoped Emmaline would take her blazed trail to at least a slightly better college, perhaps even to smoking cigarettes in New York City. She’d left Emmaline a lot of black and grey band t-shirts. They definitely wouldn’t fit now. “Emmaline?”

“Yep! That’s me!,” Emmaline said again. She smiled. “It’s good to have you back!” She radiated sincerity and tits.

Mom, just inside, was fully made up on a Saturday mid-morning and wore dark red lipstick on prominent lips. Emmaline was also entirely poofed up, now that Jennifer looked. Lipstick in layers, concealer, dark eyes. And was she also looking busty, or was it just spillover boobs from Emmaline’s new chest?

At least Jill still had her curt, judgmental attitude. “The bed is just a mattress. Your Dad is supposed to assemble the frame but he’s very busy with his job. Cell reception here is miserable, don’t bother with it. Oh, and there’s some sort of prowler around, keep an eye out. How long do you expect to stay?”

“I’ll get back to you on that one,” Jennifer said. The house was far too clean, even for a new purchase. Mom kept licking her lipsticked lips. She could hear Emmaline upstairs, giggling inanely. It was a lot to take in. She fled upstairs.

“We used to have—not long conversations, exactly, but we’d at least tease each other,” Jennifer said, reflecting. Elayne had not been even a friend in High School, just a fellow, older member of Literary Club, but Jennifer was desperate for a vent and out of other options. “You know. who’s your college boyfriend, are you going to see bands, how’re all the hard drugs you’re taking, that kind of stuff. Trying out sarcasm at each other. Now I try and talk to her and its just, uh-huh and this dumb-as-hell smile. And her boobs. God, the boobs. She was outright kneading them, like they were bread, last time I made the effort. Just rolling them around in her hands like she was fluffling a pillow. While we were TALKING.”

Elayne giggled at that one. She was pleasantly stuffed herself, with blonde-red curls and the exaggerated use of lipstick that was de rigeur in town. Jennifer had tried a little on herself, just to see what the fuss was about. She left ruby lip marks on her coffee cup.

“Is it okay we’re talking?” Elayne was in the middle of a tutoring session of one of her students, an asian girl in a short vinyl skirt. She was one table over, peering at a book with obvious confusion, her lips moving.

“Oh, its fine,” Elayne waved her hand, dismissive. She leaned across the table. “She’s a lost cause. I think she gets dumber every session.”

Vinyl skirt sucked the tip of her pen, little pink tongue flicking in and out. She hadn’t turned a page yet.

“You should’ve left town already,” Elayne observed. She’d been wholly placid, letting waves of Jennifer frustration wash over her. To be honest, although it was handy, that was not the Elayne that Jennifer had been expecting. The Elayne Whitmer who went to high school with her was a hard-charging achiever who really had gone to the good school. Definitely not the type to sit in a brand new coffee shop for hours and casually look the boys up and down. “That’s the whole point of this town. Just, relax and exist.”

“Existing blows,” Jennifer said automatically. Although the coffee was good, at least. Damn fine coffee, and the six foot two barista wasn’t hurting things. He was clean shaven, which was usually an automatic disqualification, but it was hard to ignore men that could easily pose for a statue. “Waste of time.”

“What do you want out of life, Jennifer?” Elayne said, lazily stirring more cream in to her own cup. It smelled great. Typically Jennifer drank it extra black.

‘I’m living at home as a college dropout and my sister finds her own boobs more interesting than me,” Jennifer said. “If I’m lucky I’ll get a cat some day. What do YOU want? I wasn’t…” careful. It was surprisingly nice to have a friend. “I wasn’t expecting you to be teaching High School kids. High school kids were beneath you when you were a high school kid.”

“I just decided to stop fighting, is all,” Elayne said, smiling just slightly. “There’s a whole wonderful rest of your life all ready for you if you just let it happen.”

“I was thinking that, on my mattress on the floor,” Jennifer said. “Last night. In the spare bedroom.”

“Oh, Jennifer. You see that barista behind me? I know you’ve been eye-fucking him. You know what you could do? You could fuck him,” Elayne said. She said it so matter of fact. “Move into his place. Fuck him senseless and do his laundry. Then have his babies, lots of them. Boom, and that’s your entire life settled. Your entire life! All you need to do is wink at him and its all settled!”

Had she really been that obvious? Jennifer had, in college, not gone beyond texting and guessing at intentions. Elayne, taking a long pull of coffee, was more persuasive then she should’ve been. The barista took a long, appraising look at her. Her body tingled pleasantly. At least she could get rid of her pointless, troubling virginity. That was a kind of accomplishment.

“Sure,” Jennifer said. “I’ll just have sex and it’ll solve all my problems.”

“Oh, Jen,” Elayne sighed. No one called her Jen. “You’re overthinking it. Your body tries to make things very simple. You spread your legs like so.” she cocked her fist and opened two fingers very wide. It was obscene. “The boy puts his penis here. It feels really great. You do it over and over and over. And thats it!”

“Elayne, what’s YOUR goal in life?” Jennifer said, disconcerted. Elayne’s face was all flushed. So was hers. Barista boy was not far away. An entirely different way of life unspooled in front of her. She’d never seriously considered the way of the oversexed housewife.

“Right now, since you’re being so dumb about it, its to get fucked by that barista,” Elayne said. She lowered her voice. “Let me tell you a secret about this town.” She leaned all the way across the table, and whispered right up against Jennifer’s ear. Her student glanced at them. One hand of hers had disappeared under the table. She was still on that same, apparently insurmountable page.

“All the men here have REALLY nice dicks.”

On the way back home, warm despite a wind, Jennifer saw an unaccountably attractive man. Already she was getting used to the many, many good-looking guys in town, a wealth of sexy dudes that were shredding her ideas of what she was into. It wasn’t intellectuals who tried to be funny, who told her about books to try and fuck her. It was just large, brawny, tall, males. If they stared at her, assessing her fuckability, with absolutely no regret, that was just fine.

Elayne’s whisper still rang in her ear. Nice dicks. She’d never thought she’d care about penis quality in a partner, before. But now a big healthy prong, a genuine bitchsplitter, seemed like an attractive quality in a partner.

The attractive man was at least six foot three and had a big black beard. Despite its volume and sea captain gruffness he was perhaps twenty-five, with rolled-up sleeves in the inevitable patterned flannel. It took Jennifer a moment to recognize why he seemed odd, to her. He was unaccompanied. Every guy she had seen, out for a stroll, had some bubbly thing with curves shoving softness in his face. This guy was alone, and taking his time, looking in at windows and sneaking glances around.

Jennifer slowed. She had taken a very, very long route on the way back from coffee. She had told herself it was to systemically organize her thoughts on all the strangeness in town. Her sister’s airheaded boobery, Elayne urging her to devote herself to spreading her legs. Instead, she kept returning to the topic of barista cock. She could’ve spent today having sex. Why would that be bad?

The handsome guy stopped on the sidewalk. Jennifer instinctually darted behind a trash can, unsure why she was hiding. Sexy man had paused just a few doors down from Jennifer’s house. A middle-aged hispanic couple lived there, she very vaguely recalled. Attractive male walked up to the front door and slowly, very slowly, turned the knob.

In he went.

Inside Jennifer all was confusion. This was one of the hottest men she’d ever seen, a perfect blend of her previous hip aesthetic with her growing interest in big, rock-solid men. And then he’d immediately gone and broken into a house. Belated, Jennifer recalled her Mom warning her of some neighborhood prowler.

It had to be a mistake. This was some sort of food delivery app thing, where they sent guys who didn’t have any food, and just walked into your house. A prior appointment, definitely. There was no one else around—it was pure, traffic-less suburbia, with everyone occupied inside their houses. There were hundreds of houses under construction, employing a huge number of sexy men in tight shirts. But for the moment this was the outer stretches of town. Three more houses and it was just a hillside. She got closer to the big front window, staying low.

Jennifer didn’t even need to get that close. The man was openly fucking her neighbor right next to the front door. Probably three steps in. He must’ve started fucking almost immediately, Jennifer thought, huddled close to the glass. When he opened the door her pussy must’ve been right there, and he must’ve pulled out his dick and started fucking her raw.

The raw part didn’t matter. The neighbor was already pregnant and on all fours. Totally naked, bouncing craven on a dick, she was as livestock as Jennifer figured humans could get. Her butt was huge and florid, and, as Jennifer watched, man with enormous dick gave it a casual slap. The fireplace mantel was not far away, so Jennifer could see pictures of the woman with her actual husband, staring at part of the couple going at it. Had she really been waiting in front of the door for someone to come in and fuck her? Buck naked? Pregnant?

The man attracted most of her attention. He’d barely bothered to pull his pants down. The waistband was just below the breadth of his dick. But it was an amazing cock. Long, lean, with a thick shaft that didn’t look like it should fit in her hunched, gravid body. Like fitting in the wrong tetris piece. His face still had that stern snarl of an expression, despite putting the wood to a needy and curvy housewife. Jennifer’s breath fogged the window. Did she just need to strip and wait by the door?

She was absolutely sure she made no noise at all, but the man abruptly turned his head and stared directly at her. Jennifer gasped. Her fingers flew out of their guilty trip between her legs. She booked it.

The very next day he was at it again.

Jennifer knew that she had plenty of issues close to home, and that the mystery of the Penis Prowler should be low on her priority list.

For example, on arrival home her sister had just been sitting at the couch, in her panties, stroking her own tits. Staring at a blank TV. It wasn’t masturbation, exactly, just grabbing and stretching her own nipples. Jennifer had ventured a tentative “sis?” When that had gotten no response, she had fled upstairs, feeling cold.

She was also pretty sure she’d heard her Mom moaning like a bitch in heat on several different occasions. And there was a suspicious glob of something in her hair.

Most concerning of all, objectively speaking, was that she herself had run upstairs after watching a possible rape and, instead of calling the police, or even feeling grossed out and bad, she had immediately stuck a bunch of fingers up inside of herself and cum over and over and over. Jennifer was no stranger to masturbation, and, like many sensible girls, generally rubbed in a circular motion on her own clit until achieving climax. She certainly didn’t just stick digits up her own pussy and scream into a pillow, her own body clenching around them.

Definitely she needed to come to grips with her bras feeling tight the next day.

Nonetheless she watched from the upstairs window until he appeared. In what appeared to be the same clothes, same savage beard, same dark eyes. Jennifer expected him to go straight for Mrs. Hernandez—she had extracted the name from Mom. But instead the man hesitated as he went down the block, paused in front of yet another door—and went in.

Went in a different house.

Jennifer’s body stood her up to run over. It took considerable willpower, and the promise of stroking herself, to get her to stay still. She was vaguely aware of dressing to meet him—tight khaki mini from her high school days, cute pink shirt with a rainbow on it. No bra. The khakis already had a prominent wet patch. She ignored it, and her left hand snaking down her waistband, to consider implications. Was he acting on some sort of prearranged signal? Lights in the window? Was there an e-mail group she wasn’t aware of, a local neighborhood message board that had gone full raunchy? How could he possibly know?

No doubt he was pumping that so-veiny dick in and out of some other bored housewife.

He emerged about fifteen minutes later, shutting the door behind him. Jennifer, recovering from an intense orgasm, nearly missed it. She’d fallen right off her chair. He did seem furtive, looking up and down the street.

Then he walked directly towards Jennifer’s house. On a beeline.

Her thighs, already twitching, resumed shuddering. Was he really going to walk in and fuck her? All of Elayne’s advice sang in her head. The rest of her life began when some guy decided that he was going to put his dick in her. It all naturally sprang from that. While she COULD close and lock the door it seemed much simpler, in terms of ordering her lifespan, to just have him fuck her senseless. Jennifer was formulating plans to run downstairs, assuming the position, when the man took a last-minute turn and went to the house construction site abutting them.

By running to the bathroom window, heedless of being bottomless, Jennifer could just follow his progress—it wasn’t all wood and insulation over there. There was a small guest house that was halfway finished, with a roof and a set of walls. The man slipped into there.

So they were neighbors.

Jennifer was pretty sure the man was out and about town. Actually, why dance around it? He was busy fucking another neighbor. She’d been keeping tabs on him. Two more visits to fuck local housewives. She’d watched it all from her perch by the window.

She slipped through the front door, deeply eager to avoid Mom. Jill had been acting very strange lately, wearing bright dresses with aprons and an insincere smile. Plus Jennifer was pretty sure she’d seen Mom licking the kitchen floor for some reason.

She was currently busy cooking for a Neighborhood Watch event designed to catch Jennifer’s man. Her sister was off stroking her tits somewhere else.

The simplest explanation was that the man was an unusually tall transient sexually assaulting local residents. But Jennifer felt certain—he held some sort of key to the strangeness about town.

Just yesterday Jennifer had watched a young couple relaxing on a park bench, the girl stroking her man’s bulging dick through basketball shorts, her overgrown nipples peeking out of a tanktop. The just-opened town library was entirely staffed by bleached blondes and mostly contained books about doing makeup. Stuff like that. Although the makeup manuals had come in handy. Jennifer had very carefully done her face up for this expedition, and wore a super-cute jumper that made her butt look really good.

The guest house door wasn’t locked. It was lit, inside, with a single bare bulb. The whole small, barely finished room smelled like a blend of lumber and man, and was intoxicating. It drew Jennifer inside, heedless of risk. The man slept on a few pilfered pillows in a tatty sleeping bag that had to be too small for him. He had a bundle of clothes on the floor. Jennifer fought an urge to sniff them. A copy of Nabokov’s Pale Fire had been roughly torn to shreds and scattered around the room, and there was a vial of green goo on top of a suitcase shell.

The scent was intense, layered, male. If she knelt on the makeshift bed and just smelled it wouldn’t be humiliating. She’d just be—appreciating it. Did he sleep naked in the sleeping bag? It was the most concentrated area, a more concentrated musk. Jennifer closed her eyes to take it in—no wonder so many girls had gotten on their haunches and spread pink pussies, waiting for the doorknob to turn. It was wonderful.

“Hello, neighbor,” the man said. He closed the door behind him. Jennifer gasped, backed up into his sleeping bag. A flush of fear drove away the horniness: what the fuck was she doing? Sniffing rapist cum? And now she was totally at his mercy. His to ravage.

The man looked very tired, very grim. He sat down on the wooden floor with his back to the wall. “I’m John,” he said.

“”Uh. Jennifer?” It came out in a quavering squeak.

“Hi Jennifer. Nice to finally meet you. My peeping tom. Or tammy,” John said. He rubbed at his deep eyes. “I didn’t think you were the cops, but nice to be sure.”

“It’s Jennifer, not Tammy,” Jennifer said. They looked at each other. What was she doing? “Ummmmm…” her brain refused to get into gear. It was still too busy processing his scent.

“I just fucked Ms. Schneider,” John said. “So if you want a go at me, you’re gonna have to wait…” he considered it, then rubbed thoughtfully at his balls. “Five or six minutes.”

“I’m not here for—THAT,” Jennifer said. She sat herself cross-legged, trying to ignore her body’s sudden displeasure at her. Her clit was definitely in the room for dick. “I’m—I just got back in town and its all so weird and I thought, look for the rebels…look for whats off….” she trailed off, and nervously chewed on a lock of her own hair. It was swiftly joining her Mom and Sister’s march to blondeness.

John looked at her with renewed interest. “Oh,” he said. “You’re at THAT stage.”

‘WHAT stage?”

“Unexplained breast growth? Sudden, sharp rise in libido? A sense of bewilderment, a loss of control? You’re becoming a—‘bimbo’ doesn’t quite cover it. I prefer ‘toy’. Basically a sex toy. You’re in the early stages.” he looked at her, between her legs. “Not that early.”

Jennifer looked down. There was a big wet spot between her thighs, advertised to the man in the room. She slammed her legs shut. “What are you TALKING about?”

“The whole town is just about getting people dumb and breeding,” John said, waving his hand, vaguely. “Its a slut factory. Is this surprising? Usually when I tell this to a new person they realize I’m right, but then get distracted and horny again pretty quick.”

The pieces did start to fall into place. The entire town was just a porno set writ large. And she’d been up in her room, busy frigging herself into sluthood. Jennifer grabbed her own tits, suddenly shocked at their growth. They were easily several cup sizes bigger than the boobs she recalled. “Right, then you grope your tits, and then you look up and its like, I never said anything, and then we fuck,” John told her, condescending.

Her nipples felt really good. Jennifer forced her hands away, forced herself to concentrate.

“YOU beat this, right?” she said, grasping at straws.

John laughed and shook his head. “I live in a shack and try and keep exposure low. And I still have to beat off fifteen times a day or I turn—bull,” he said. “I walk around and fuck housewives. I can barely read. And yeah, I’ve lasted longer than nearly anyone. Just FYI, you’re feeling yourself up again.” It was true. Her hands had found her nipples once more. Jennifer sat on her hands. They wiggled against her butt.

“You know what’s really messed up?” John said, once she’d managed that.

“Everything?” Jennifer suggested. She was proud of that line—it meant she could still make jokes, didn’t it? John didn’t crack any aspect of a smile.

“You know how I know which door to go in?” he said. “I can smell them. I can smell wet fertile pussy from thirty feet. Through a closed door. I can pick out which pussy is which. I can smell you, right now. You’ve ovulating.”

Her own slit was throbbing in time to his speech.

“I was going to win a pulitzer,” John said. “Now I’m just marking time until I’m livestock.” He rubbed at his own genitals. They were starting to bulge large again, five to six minutes removed from emptying out. “Even after—after whats-her-name, I was sure I was going to beat this. That delusion just got some high school seniors turned into breedstock. My advice to you is, just enjoy it while you can. This is the FUN part.” He picked up the vial of green goo and hucked it against the far wall. Glass tinkled. The goo itself rapidly turned a dark brown, and slid very slowly down the fiberboard wall.

“What do you mean?” Jennifer whispered.

John pointed north. “You can go have a look, you’re too far gone for anyone to care about you. It’s just outside of town. You can walk there. Now, if you don’t mind, you should go, if you don’t want me to fuck you. Fair warning, my dick is nearly a foot long now and it will fuck you completely stupid.”

It was not far. Really it was the next street over, if they had built a bit more street. The neighborhood ended at a low rise, the sidewalk coming to an abrupt halt, the concrete sloppy and misaligned. Dirt led to a grassy knoll, and, over the knoll, Jennifer saw the farm.

She had a tough time getting there despite how short the walk really was. It was hard to walk in the dirt heels. She’d worn four-inchers in a glossy sports car red to confront the neighborhood prowler. It was hard to fight the conclusion that John was right, that she was deep into the process of being turned into a dumb, horny slut. Among all the other facts, and despite just learning about a deep conspiracy to make her and everyone into stupid breeders, a trickle of lubricant was busy making its way down her thighs.

Jennifer turned once at the top of the hill. The town was laid out in front of her, horny and wet. There was the huge chemical plant, built in the center of town, with two big smoke stacks steaming a suddenly sinister vapor. Right next to it was main street. There were the way-too-big apartment complexes, five stories tall. A lot of schools were under construction. A lot of horny ladies were ambling up to her house, for the Neighborhood Watch party. She had the option of sliding back down the hill, using that nice wet pussy on John. He’d definitely fuck her.

Jennifer made it down the other side of the hill with only one embarrassing fall onto her own ass. Her own proportions were way off from what she remembered, her center of gravity in a whole new geometric area.

There was a cheap looking prefabricated building with a metal sliding door, just one in a row. Someone had rolled out twisted wire fencing across wooden posts. They hadn’t done much of a job—the posts were lightly pushed in and the fencing was secured with a few half-hearted nails. It was for show.

Inside the paddock the most busty girl Jennifer had ever seen walked around, serene, naked except for a pair of muddy socks and the remnants of a t-shirt around her neck. It was more of a faded collar, now, the words HILLGREEN just visible in brown and orange.

She had nubby little horns on the top of her head, surrounded by acres of rich blonde hair. Jennifer touched at her own hair, alarmed. No horns.

From out of the shed another—human?—emerged into the sunlight. This one was a burly male with a fat, erect cock. He also had on a filthy t-shirt, stretched taut across his chest, this one reading ‘PURDUE’, and longer, more pronounced horns. His genitalia was shaggy, thick, brown. The—woman?—didn’t seem to care when he bent over at the waist and put his cock in her.

It was all hot and horrible, but what really bothered Jennifer, made her gasp and back away from the fence, was when the girl, getting lazily fucked, plucked some grass from the ground, and ate it.

“Oh, don’t be like that, you have no idea how hard it was to make grass edible for people,” a man said.

He had walked up in full view, out of the central area behind the stalls, but Jennifer hadn’t had the remaining mental capacity to respond. He put a calming hand on her ass. It did help with the shock.

“They’re—cow-people,” Jennifer said, eyes wide with alarm. The man stroked her butt, soothing. He wore a cowboy hat, blue checked shirt, and blue jeans, and lacked the overdeveloped physique of every other male around. He was paunchy and had a thick tire ring around his waist. He smelled utterly trustworthy, completely reliable, and Jennifer spread her legs to make it easier to touch her rear.

“I wasn’t actually working to make human bovines,” he said, watching the couple in the field. “I mean, I was hardly blind to it. The tits alone make that clear. From the get-go milk was going to be a primary nutrient. But when you start to think about how you’re gonna feed a whole lot of docile breeders you hit on grass pretty quick. No need to be smart to get some grass. You just put your mouth down there and you eat. You solve a problem, you create a problem. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Jennifer,” Jennifer said. The other two—people?—hadn’t noticed them at all. The girl’s tits were leaking white milk into the soil. “I”m Jennifer. Wait. I—” should this man’s hand be on her butt? It seemed—she stared at it, confused. “Should you be touching my butt?” she asked.

The man laughed. “I bet you’ve been in town for exactly four days,” he said, patting the small of her back. “It’s a tough time, I know it. Just a bit too swollen to ignore, am I right? Decided to explore? Felt like something was off but not sure what? Bras not fitting, panties all wet. Don’t worry, just a few more days and you’ll find your place.”

She had to FIGHT this. The man had walked up, announced he was responsible for turning her and everyone into thick bimbos, and then just copped a feel. Her anger somehow turned into an annoyed hiss. She stamped her foot, annoyed at it all. “I don’t WANT this! Why did you make me all—” Jennifer pursed her lips, hunting for the right word. “Sexyish!”

“Oh, honey, you know this is better,” the man said. “Or you will. You know we can put little wires on and in you and measure how happy your brain is? I mean, whats left of it? There’s no comparison. This way its just bathed in happy chemicals and happy pulses of happy electricity. Its a nonstop party, you’ll love it. You have to. You see those two copulating out there? If they got any happier, it would kill them.”

They stood together and watched. As sex went it was calm and unhurried. The girl even moved the man around with her ass, so she could get at more of the grass. They were clearly set to wheelbarrow around all afternoon, fucking and eating, a rhythm they could keep up for the remainder of their lives. Drool from the man’s heavy lips landed on the girl’s back. Every so often he would pause, potentially to cum, it wasn’t very clear.

“We’ll stop you,” Jennifer murmured. Her eyes kept trying to close. The man’s fingers had dug in between her ass cheeks. It felt really good. “I’ve got… ummm…. I’ve got a friend and he’ll stop you. He’s gonna win a pulitzer prize. We’ll EXPOSE you. Ohhhhh that’s SO good.”

“Oh, girl,” the man said, sympathetic. “Do you think we’d roll out this big open town if we didn’t feel pretty darn confident? It’s in the water, the air, just about every screen and every speaker. You’ve been drinking in our solution for over a year. All over the world, women are wondering why their tits are growing. This town is just to figure out how far we want to take it. And I am starting to think… bovine.”

Jennifer felt a pink-black mixture on the edge of her vision, a combination of learning upsetting facts about the future of humankind, and the hand rubbing against her butt crack. She had to say something, if only to assert that she wasn’t some dumb cow. She was a human who dealt in facts and logic, and also, she didn’t want him to stop feeling her.

“It’s kinda boring though, right?” Jennifer hazarded.

“Hmm?”

“I mean, isn’t it all same-y? Cows? There’s no….” the word wouldn’t come. Jennifer fought for a replacement. “Diverse-titties. Like every pussy is the same pussy, that’s no fun!”

The man’s fingers stopped. He tapped them lightly against her. Jennifer stuck her butt out to help him resume touching. “That is a legitimate concern,” he conceded. “Maybe we do need to stop short of full cow. See if photosynthesis is the answer, perhaps. Hmmm.”

As a reward he jammed his fingers up inside of her butt and twisted his fingers about. That triggered a sudden, intense orgasm, just like he knew it would. She could barely stay upright.

“Thanks for this little chat. Perhaps you are… hmmm… seven or eight hours short of how far along I thought you were.”

He gave a final, expert slap on her butt. Jennifer would never know when that particular feature had been introduced in her. Perhaps it was a year ago when she drank from a public tap, maybe from slurping coffee at the coffee shop, or anytime in-between. But a hard, stinging slap to the ass definitely made her cum so hard she passed out.

When Jennifer came to the man was gone. The couple in the fields had been joined by additional demi-humans. They did all look very similar, excepting some small differences in skin hue, and some scraps of clothing from a previous life. One defiant looking cow, formerly korean, currently bovine, even wore a skirt, or the remnants of one, pulled high over her ass. Her tail stuck out from underneath. Jennifer stumbled away, back up the hill. Her mouth was very dry. It was difficult to form plans or intentions. Maybe read some books, while that was still an option. Her breasts ached, and she was muddy from lying on the ground. Her brain still tingled, not totally pleasantly. A hard frazzle.

She should’ve just fucked the barista, Jennifer thought. No troubling realizations about the underlying darkness of the town. Just free coffee and dick.

Inside the house her mother’s Neighborhood Watch party had degenerated into a sexual free-for-all.

There was a shortage of men, which didn’t seem to have stopped any of the festivities. The pregnant latino woman held court in the center of the living room, being serviced this time by what was probably her husband, a hot looking man in part of a suit. Elayne was there, getting eaten out by someone whose face Jennifer couldn’t see. She was too fucked up to even recognize Jennifer. A dull-eyed blonde in yoga gear waited patiently next to her, in case any flecks of cum came her way. Another girl had taken up the good chair and was masturbating with a really big vibrator. Over near the TV the police officer was face-fucking a girl while two other women patiently waited their turn—one with ribbons in her hair and the other an overstuffed woman with, now that her headband was loose, obvious horns growing in. A younger looking man with a really big dick had shown up with an asian girl and was fucking her. Snacks and drinks had gotten all over the carpet and made an enormous mess.

Jennifer stopped in the kitchen for a much-needed glass of water. Her Mom was there sucking Dad’s dick. They didn’t seem to notice her wandering in. Mom definitely didn’t—her eyes were squeezed shut and she had deep-throated Dad all the way. He had his hand clenched on her hair. The glass of water was cool and wet and comforting.

Upstairs, John was fucking Jennifer’s sister on top of Jennifer’s bed.

He had stripped to his shorts, and his full, brawny chest was a sigil of hair. Emmaline’s tits swayed and bounced as they went at it. John gave her a curt nod as she walked in, still serious as ever. His cock had long ago reduced Emmaline to a sweaty, grunting mess. He pulled it out as Jennifer walked in, nonchalant.

“I had to hide up here,” he said, by way of apology for fucking her sister on her mattress. “You like the farm?”

“Yeah,” Jennifer sighed. It was nice to see all her former stuff, her books, her laptop with half-written short stories on them. They didn’t really matter anymore, but they were comforting. She started to stroke John’s dick. It spat sperm all over her. That reminded her: she really needed to think about her own future.

“John…. can we get out of here?” she said, looking in his eyes. “We can take my Mom’s car.”

“The whole world is fucked,” John told her. He tolerated her merely jacking him off, confident they would be able to fuck momentarily. “What’s the point? Where would we even go?”

“I don’t even care where we go. But this town blows,” Jennifer said. She licked his dick while he thought about it. He took a good five minutes, and one load down her throat, before he finally nodded his head. “Alright, fine.”

They walked downstairs as a couple. Despite everything Jennifer felt good about it. This was a future: leaving town in a car with a hot guy sitting next to her. A lot of futures had started out worse. And John’s cock was something else. He’d barely been able to secure it in his shorts, and hadn’t bothered with a shirt at all. John paused for a moment, watching the asian girl with perhaps a dozen ribbons in her hair suck hard on the police officer’s dick. Horns girl was between her legs, licking away. John cocked his head, puzzled.

“John?” Jennifer had taken his hand. It was a good idea to have these intimate moments while they still could, stuff like kissing and hand-holding.

“It’s… nothing. Its—I thought I remembered something. Lets go.”

It was as easy as that. Jennifer took the keys, tossed them to John, and off they went. Dad had thoughtfully filled it up with a full tank of gas. In ten minutes they were on the freeway, out of town, free. Anywhere they went felt like the right direction. Jennifer kept glancing at her new man. Soon they would have to discuss plans, and ideas, and directions. Maybe make some half-hearted, pointless plans to detox. But first.

“Wanna pull over and fuck?” she said. John finally cracked a smile.