The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was terrible, not being able to call her Mom a bitch. Mom was always ready with a “I guess that makes you a daughter of a bitch!” and that was so stupid, and her smile so awful and triumphant, Lexi could never deploy the B-word. But she thought it, all the time, twice as hard.

“Keep the windows SHUT, Lexi!” Silvia thundered. It was easily 88 degrees in the house. There was one working ceiling fan, and it was in Mom’s room. That bitch. “There’s a virus out there and it is making women into WHORES and we can sweat until its gone!”

“We’re both clearly already infected, SILVIA,” Lexi said. The whole thing was ludicrously stupid. Like she couldn’t see Mom’s obviously damp junction, drooling into her tights. Lexi was feeling it herself—there was no mystery to it. She was hot and bothered and horny and especially hot and especially bothered because it was 88 degrees in the house. “I already heard you grunting one out in your room.”

It was a devastating blow to Mom. And indicative of how completely out of her mind delusional she was to think anyone on the block was unaware she’d had an orgasm. It had been a guttural, harsh, choked screech that had etched itself into Lexi’s memory. It was a good thing, according to reports, all her brains were about to get sandblasted out of her.

“I better not hear anything out of you,” Mom said, hands on her hips, nipples erect. Two soon-to-be stupid bimbos, screaming at each other. The neighbors must be thrilled.

“Are you serious?” Lexi said. “Its a medical condition. Of course I’m gonna masturbate myself stupid. I gotta. With my WINDOW OPEN.”

“Lexi, you are not going to put your family at risk and you are not going to give in to this—uhh—uhhhh—monstro-sity!”

She was already clearly struggling with bigger words, and that was a kind of comfort. If she had to get bimbo-dumb thanks to some asshole sexist virus, at least Mom was going down too. If she had been some simpering pink princess but with Mom, wholly unchanged, still lecturing at her, Lexi was pretty sure she’d dump her big new tits off a high bridge.

She stomped upstairs. College had been a lot of fake people with instagram lives, but it had been much, much better than living with Mom. Her room had been swiftly redecorated after she’d left, and she sank into a terrible new comforter that was a sterile grey. Lexi stuck her fingers underneath her own tights, thought about it, and then opened her bedroom window wide first. Then she flipped over.

The virus was obviously about to reduce all women to chattel slaves—clearly—but her fingers did feel really good. Lexi moaned into the horrible comforter.

“God! Lexi, what are you doing?”

It was a mark of how she was already getting affected by prions and viral loads that Lexi didn’t snatch her hands free. She growled into the covers. Lexi let her fingers keep on pushing at her eager buttons, and put her sweaty face up to glare at Mom.

“I’m INFECTED, MOM!” she yelled. Her voice shook just a little. Mom was bug-eyed, watching her daughter touch herself. “I gotta fuckin’ masturbate! Watch the news! Get out of my room!”

“At least—close—the WINDOW!” Mom yelled back. Her entire thighs were damp, and her boobs were already getting bigger. She was mottled brown-red with rage.

That was plenty. The entire world was bad, but why stay here? Lexi pulled her hand free just a whisper away from orgasm, sat up, and filled a backpack with old high school clothes. She’d fled in just her current outfit, back when there was a thought to avoiding disease. No bra and no panties—why bother? No books. A sweater, a pair of jean shorts she’d probably soon have an ass far too big for, her purse. Mom watched, her chest heaving. “You’re leaving?” she choked, it finally breaking through. “It’s not safe out there!”

“That’s what I think of you,” Lexi hissed. “I’d rather go be a bimbo on a park bench.” Her tits hurt and she was hungry. Problems to deal with later. She made it to the front door, Mom stumbling behind her. She’d only get one chance at this. “Have fun…” open door, get three steps out, wait for it, wait for it… “you BITCH!”

She treated herself to a juicy cum on a bus bench.

Above all Lexi wanted to maintain a detached, bored, sense of unsurprise about a virus turning her into a drippy slut. True, she had not expected to have her legs spread to the road, fingers digging deep, the other fingers rubbing at her clit, at the age of 19. But thematically it was all of a piece: unhappy upbringing, bad divorce, sour high school. And just when she’d gotten out of a dorm full of drippy sorority girls learning how to give blowjobs to fratty guys, this had hit. Of course.

It did feel really good, there was that. She’d left college without her anti-depressants. Lexi had big stacks of empty bottles of those bad boys. They had left her well attuned to what the sudden influx of Good Chemicals felt like, and these were arriving now in vast rivers of good feelings. Even the still-shocked stares of drivers going by felt kinda good. The thing about them, is that they weren’t her Mom. She tried to keep from smiling. It wasn’t easy. Her pussy felt really great.

She’d walked a few miles before having no real choice but to stop and jill off. Perhaps Mom had called the police, but Lexi expected first responders were probably at home, banging girlfriends and wives. Firefighters were probably drowning in cooze. She caught herself twirling her hair with wet fingers.

But—she sniffed cautiously at her index nail, and then stuck it into her mouth.

Why was it so sweet?

Like licking a lollipop. She gathered a glistening droplet from between her legs. It was oily and hot and tasted like a gumdrop. Did she have some sort of weird sexdiabetes?

Sweet, her body needed something sweet. As urges went it was even more powerful then fingering herself to public view. She checked her purse: two dollars and her student ID and a tampon. Were there girls going through intense bimbofication on the rag? At least that much was going right for her. God, she needed some candy. Now.

She laughed, trying to make it bitter. It came out as a simpering giggle. That sent a new jolt of fear. There was only so much ironic detachment a girl could hold on to, when she was turning into a fuck toy.

“Can I have a ton of candy?” she asked the convenience store cashier. “I’ve got two dollars.”

He had a long black beard and looked very tired. He was also the first man she had seen since getting sick. Her body was intensely interested in him, who he was, what he liked, his body, his scent. Lexi forcibly jerked herself back. Her body was acting like a puppy. Sugar. Concentrate on getting sugar.

“Candy?” he said, visibly distracted. He smelled like cigarette smoke. Ordinarily disgusting, but she was immediately getting used to it. It was sexy and mature, now that she’d had a few seconds to consider it, in the presence of a man.

“Even the shitty ones. Just, sugar,” Lexi said. Her pussy spasmed at the word. Sugar, she NEEDED it. Cock and sugar. “Cokes and snapples and... oh, I know, those REALLY shitty bags of candy for whiny kids! I need them super bad, PLEASE.” she put her two dollars on the counter. They were sticky from her wet fingers. He looked at them.

“That’ll get you… one bag of gummy worms,” he said, brow furrowed, after awhile. Were men getting dumber too?

One bag? Lexi looked over at the long row of brightly colored plastic bags. Her body was confident she could eat through all of it. And the sodas! Liquified sugar, until she was cold and light brown throughout. “You can watch me jerk off while I eat it?” she suggested, hopeful. That seemed fair, and perfectly dark in this new time. She’d already established her willingness to rub herself in public. Why the hell not? “One hand? Kneeling? Bent over? Just tell me. I’ll do it.”

He still had that blank, fixed look. Lexi felt a twitter of fear. Of course. He held all the power. No doubt he wanted her to bend herself over the counter while he roughly used her, sawing an immense dick back and forth. What a way to lose her virginity, screaming underneath his weight, surrounded by sour cigarette smoke. “Do you.. want me… to suck… your cock?” Lexi suggested. She was unsure if she wanted to.

“Ahhhhh,” the man said, breathing out. He shook himself. “Whew. Alright. Sorry about that. Miss, go ahead. Take all the candy you need.” he looked much more with it.

He invited her to look over the side of the counter. A girl was there, on her knees, mopping up a full load of cum. That was the source of the smoke. She smelled like an ashtray, and her hair was visibly turning smoke-grey. “She needed cigs,” the clerk explained, still a bit dazed. “Real bad. Go ahead. Eat away.”

“Can I still give you a lil show?” Lexi said. That seemed—fair. He needed to see her pussy.

He eyed her. Lexi, unused to male gaze, flushed. “Sure,” the man said. “Fine.”

“Miss,” the clerk said. He kept telling her his name and she kept forgetting it. “I think you’re gonna have to go. I’m shutting down for the night.”

“Mmmm. Mmm!” Lexi said, around a mouthful of twizzlers. They weren’t as good as the other candies, but she’d methodically gone through just about every bag, as well as five gallons of sprite. Everything sugar—for whatever reason, the chocolate candies didn’t do it at all. But the runts, the skittles—especially the skittles—even the ancient circus peanuts she’d found at the very back of a shelf. They’d all melted right into her mouth and soothed her bloodstream.

The clerk had refused everything from her, although she’d shown him as much pussy as she honestly could. He had earned the view. But whenever he had started to give her a thoughtful look some other rapidly slutifying girl had stumbled in, and ended up sucking the man’s dick. Including one girl who seemed to be growing vampire fangs. He’d had a stricken look on for that one.

“Just let me stay, please?” Lexi said. “Please please please?”

“With sugar on top?” the clerk said.

“What?” She felt AMAZING, albeit not particularly bright. Like she’d transformed her blood into pixie sticks and bottle caps. She was glowing. Her tits rode real high, and felt tight and hard.

“Miss, you—hold on.” A customer walked in. “Whatever it is you need, its free, but you got to take this girl home. That’s the deal.”

“I need exactly one cup of coffee,” the man said. He was very large, with a big red face, and wore a sleeveless flannel.

“Deal,” the clerk said.

They looked at each other. Lexi felt a sudden, inevitable sugar crash. What, exactly, had she been doing? Her big plan after breaking free from Moms was to stroke herself silly while eating candy? And now she was getting pawned off to some big trucker guy, no doubt to be shackled and bred in his cab.

On the other hand, he was kind of cute, in a large man kind of way. Like a wrestler. A lot of body. In fact, she was intensely attracted to it.

“Really?” the man said, to the clerk.

“Just get her address from her license. She has a backpack. Look, if you don’t—ahh!—go soon, I’m gonna have another one to throw at you, and she is a doozy.”

Come to think of it, Lexi hadn’t seen the vampire girl leave.

His truck was enormous, and became bigger as she approached it. He walked just behind her, and Lexi couldn’t stop herself from putting a wiggle in her step. It was dark out, and the chill revoke her sugar-fogged head, gave her a squirt of adrenaline to help her think. She had to look awful—coated in sugar frosting, mouth sticky and wet, everything damp from sweat or sprite or juice.

“Alright,” the man said, resigned. “we’re not supposed to drive in residential streets, you may not know that, but I’ll drop you close. Where we going?”

“You don’t need to help,” said.

“Ah, hell,” the man said. “I’m Blake, by the way. You’re, what. Name is what.”

“Lexi,” she said.

“Not Candy?”

She looked down at herself. It made a lot of sense, and Lexi had a powerful sense: sure. She was Candy now. But no, that was the virus rewriting her. What the hell had happened in there, making her wolf down kid candy in bulk? She hadn’t even gone for a Three Muskateer bar since her last few halloweens in middle school. And she was still clutching a bag of those twizzlers.

“Lexi,” she forced herself to say. “Serious….” the word was a little long for her now. “Serious! I’m fine. You don’t need to give me a ride.”

“Yeah, I’ve been listening to what’s up with you girls all day on the radio, no you’re not. Miss, we’re outdoors, and the wind is howling, and I can smell you over here. Get in.”

It was a command, and Lexi caught her breath. Her legs started moving. It was hard to climb in to the passenger side, especially with greasy hands and legs, but she managed to flop in onto her brand new boobs. They felt funny when they got squished.

“Okay, where to?” Blake said, getting in.

Lexi temporized. She could just make up a random address, but the idea of lying to a man was suddenly ugly, awful, unthinkable. And she didn’t feel super able to manage it. There was a strange, sticky feeling all over her shirt.

“Something’s wrong,” she whined. He popped on the overhead lights. It was surprisingly nice in there. She’d expected a grim interior lined with McDonalds wrappers and nudie mags from 1996. This was well-appointed, like a luxury cabin. Except that there was a dark brown stain all over her shirt. “Oh gawddddd, my boobs are leaking. That’s from my fuckin tits.” She gathered some up with a finger. It congealed on her finger. Blake watched her slowly raise it to her lips and stick a finger in.

“Toffee,” she reported, eyes wide.

She was expressing toffee from her nipples.

“Yeah, lets get you home, right now,” Blake said, turning the truck on. He rolled down all the windows.

“Oh, please please PLEASE no,” Lexi said. “My Mom is there. I can’t. I can’t can’t. I already booked it.”

“Nope,” Blake shook his head, fiercely. “Hand over your purse. Lets see the address.”

“NO!” Lexi started to sob. She was afraid to taste her own tears. It seemed likely they’d taste like marshmallows. “This is just SO BULLSHIT. Everything sucks and the entire world sucks and my family especially sucks and JUST when I get to college I get turned into a SUGAR WHORE with a pop rock pussy and its so stupid! Its just so dumb!”

Blake kept shifting in his seat. Even Lexi could tell how sharp-sweet she smelled, and it was definitely having an effect on the man. He kept trying to adjust his pants. No wonder, she was half-naked, smelled like an orgy in a Wonka factory, and was, she noticed, touching herself as she cried. It was a lot.

“Look, I’m REAL sorry,” Blake said, conciliatory. “I know its tough for you ladies. I’m sure there’ll be a cure or something for how…. sexy…” his face, already a natural red, was approaching fire engine status. “...you girls are. Just… damn hot. God.” He was sweaty too. “Can you just give me your fucking address?”

She had to hand him her backpack. Panic surged through her. She couldn’t go back to Mom, especially not as this needy, squirmy sugar bombshell. And besides, there wasn’t a speck of anything sweet in the whole house. Maybe, MAYBE a bit of brown sugar and a pack of hershey’s kisses that would do nothing for her. Lexi did the only thing she could think of, which was to show a man her tits.

Blake tried to drive. They were swollen and hot titties, fake-looking, and still expressing that sugar-syrup. He licked his lips.

“It’s so hard, Mister Blake,” she mewed. “Look, I’ve had this dumb virus thingie for like a day and I’m a sweet tart. I’m syrupy.” She squeezed lightly and a spurt came out. It felt like such a relief. It drooled all over her hand, and on impulse she stuck it right in Blake’s face. He inhaled, choked, and then opened his mouth, which she took as a sign to stick her fingers in. A lot of syrup got in there. His hands squeezed the wheel, and she thought to belatedly look for a wedding ring. None. Well, good.

“Lexi… that’s... “ his eyes were wild. “Sweet. It’s sweet. Holy shit its so sweet.”

“You wanna pull over?” she cooed.

Less than a minute later she was on his lap, letting him suckle desperately from both tits, downing as much nectar as she could produce, which was a lot. His mouth was golden-brown with honey, and they were both stuck to each other instantly, sealed together with congealing sugar-sweat. It was a challenge for both of them to get his pants off, to let his dick finally get out, and she was so thick he only slowly slid into her. Buried to the hilt, she could barely bobble up and down. But Blake didn’t seem to mind, lost in her tits, squeezing her dry.

Having a cock buried inside of her was good, but not quite as important as being squeezed and sucked. It not only felt good, it felt… fulfilling. She was feeding him, she was helping him. It was pure and wonderful. True, she herself was nothing more than a furnace to turn sucrose into sugar pap, but it was still making Blake very happy. He came inside of her, just from reflex, his body interpreting the sugar and chemical-hormone blend as a reason to jizz. They both fell back, and she accidentally honked his horn.

Neither were able to talk. Lexi was completely brain-burnt and mind-sucked by twenty minutes of acting as a sugar pump, and Blake because his mouth was totally stuck full, like a dog with peanut butter. She fell off his cock once it was soft, shivering and cumming, crawled with weak arms into his passenger seat, and fell instantly asleep.

Lexi woke up in a congealed pool of herself. She pulled free, bleary, putting her legs underneath her. She’d had a strange dream where she’d fallen into Candyland, and become a peppermint, a fountain of candy to be suckled and nuzzled. Essentially a giggling cartoon character with swollen honey tits.

She was in a truck. It was not quite morning, and chilly, and there was a wool blanket on top of her. She glanced underneath it, where she found a mess of jiggling tits and oversized thighs. She was naked from the waist down, and her shirt was stiff. Memories oozed in. She really was turning into a clover honey bear.

And she’d basically raped a guy last night.

“Oh, fuck,” she whimpered. She’d stuck her horny sugar into his mouth and rode him dry. It was shitty behavior. He’d just been trying to take her home, and she’d fucked him not just out of primal need but to get him to pull over. And it had worked.

She checked the mirror. Overnight her hair had added a pink and white hue, and gotten very, very long. She had rosy cheeks. It was all ridiculous, with a puffy set of new lips that had a candy apple gloss. She looked so fucking dumb, essentially a walking lollipop you could have sex with. But it was undeniable: Mom was right. She had a bitch heart underneath the sugar.

Outside was her house.

Blake must’ve found her backpack. Yes—her ID was still on the dash. Short black hair, sour expression. She’d glared and snarked like that for the innocent DMV camera. What a joke that she was a jolly gumdrop now. And Blake must’ve driven her here after she’d fucked him. He was snoring in a little berth. Her tits ached to give him breakfast. But she didn’t deserve that.

Lexi slipped out of the car, turned in a random direction, and walked.

In the morning sun it was clear that she now had a tan. Sort of: like she had brown sugar in her veins, a light caramel that, frankly, was nothing compared to everything else that had changed. She went east, horny and dull and hungry. It was probably too much to ask to find another convenience store and ransack it for sugar. She’d just have to get what she needed in trash cans. It was definitely what she deserved, anyway. At least she didn’t have that full, overstuffed feeling in her boobs, anymore, although they still rode way high on her chest.

No one seemed to care that she was naked from the waist down, and mostly naked from the waist up. There was barely anyone out, just a very few cars. A street-sweeper hovering up dirt. No doubt everyone else was at home, freshly fucked and newly minted bimbos, ready to wake up and bang.

Lexi checked. Her tears were, in fact, really sweet, almost pure sugar. So that explained that. Her head felt well-stuffed with cotton candy. She doubted she could get home if she wanted to.

It was easiest to go downhill, so she did, which is how she ended up at the beach.

The sun rose right up in front of her. Maybe it would harden her solid, into a nice gooey statue, that decent people could lick and enjoy.

“Another one! Oh my gosh! Welcome welcome!”

A trio of deeply tanned girls approached, two in biker shorts and nothing else, and one totally naked. They had bleached blonde hair in long curls down their backs, and similar cheerful smiles.

“Uhhh,” Lexi said. “Hi.”

“Oh, you’re different!” the lead one said. “I’m Sunny! Sorry sorry, we thought you got our strain!”

The deep sugar glaze tan was probably throwing them. Lexi shrugged, trying to convey with body language that she wanted to be left alone. But all her body knew how to do was leak and bend over.

“We got Sun,” the second girl said. “I’m Amber. You got Candy, huh? My cousin got that one! She said its a lot of fun! Oh, oh, hold on, here it comes!”

The last bit of disc made it over the horizon, a beautiful sunrise in a blue sky. The threesome put their arms out, nearly embracing it, eyes closed. They started to shake. “Oh, fuckkkkkk,” Sunny murmured. She started to shake along with the other two. Lexi could see the naked one’s pussy clench and shake. They were all wet with sudden sweat.

“Oh, GODDDDD,” it hit all three of them, and they collapsed into the gritty public beach sand, legs shaking. “SO good.”

It was a good chance to escape, but what was the point? When they recovered they surrounded her, playful, cheerful from a morning orgasm, and surprisingly admiring.

“Oh, watch!” Sunny squeezed Lexi’s tit, admired the slow sugar ooze. “Ooh! That’s so much fun! How does it taste? Is it syrup? Oh my gosh I need to get you to brunch!”

“Thanks,” Lexi said.

“Oh, and your tears are all sweet! Oh, wait, are you sad?”

“I mean... “ Lexi sniffled.

“You need snacks, right?” Amber said. “Sugar snacks? Anything sugar? I’ll go get that, Sunny, you go get her some clothes. Lucky lucky we live near the beach! Isn’t it great? We were here all yesterday and boys kept coming up and fucking us! Its so good except sometimes they get between us and the sun!”

“You don’t have to do that,” Lexi said. They needed to just let her harden in peace.

“Your tears DO taste good,” Amber conceded. “But nah. Come on! You can be our snack bar!”

They’d dressed her and fed her and were very kind. The three girls took brief breaks to refresh in the full light of the sun, cumming themselves silly into a giggling puddle on the hot sand. But outside of that they did a thorough job, hauling down big plastic bags full of jawbreakers, gum, and best of all, a full box of airheads that made even Lexi feel better. It was just too perfect, and all sugar. Her boobs were starting to fill up again, and it was a nice feeling. There was a warm, relaxing feeling from getting sugared. If she was going to be a syrup bottle, at least it felt good.

But best of all, they’d found her an adorable skirt, with matching light-pink and purple accessories. They were ridiculous looking objectively, but Lexi itched to put them on—they were HER, in a very real way. If she was going to be candy for the rest of her life, and it seemed like she was, she might as well fit the role. And that meant candy cane earrings, bright pastel clothes, looking for all the world, and especially the boys, that she was meant to be unwrapped and eaten. Used and discarded. A nice snack. Dessert. The girls were calling her Candy, and it was a name Lexi was responding to.

Candy. She was Candy.

“Something’s wrong,” Amber said, once they were fully done with the makeover. They were still at the top of the beach. A cloud had momentarily darkened the sky, and the girls were looking somewhat more intelligent. Sunny was busy getting her face shoved into the sand by a beach jock who had stopped by. He hadn’t even bothered to pull his basketball shorts all the way down. The third girl, whose name Lexi had never bothered to learn, was waiting her turn, asshole up in the air.

“You’ve been so nice!” Lexi whispered. She kept wiping her eyes so it wouldn’t get on her makeup. Or was it makeup? She didn’t recall putting any on. Maybe she was just always going to look like a bag of tropical skittles. “And I’m such a bitch!”

“Oh, you’re sad, that’s the problem,” Amber said. “Listen, dummy. You’re stupid.”

“I know!” Lexi said.

“No, I mean, you’re a dummy now. You’re stupid. You’re a dumb candy cunt. But you’re still trying to act like a smartie with all sort of smartie problems like, I don’t know, relationships and shit. It’s dumb. Bad dumb. What are you even upset about? Do you even fuckin’ know?”

Lexi stopped sniffling. She looked inside of her head. There was a vague sense there of—something. Mom? It was hard to retrieve.

“It’s like clouds and shit, right?” Amber squeezed Lexi’s nipple and gathered some of the brown sugar flow. “Listen, you’re like a candy cunt. That’s it. You don’t need to have all these feelings, you gotta just get fucked and let people lick you. That’s what you are now, okay, Candy?”

Candy couldn’t argue with that, or with anything.

She blew her nose. A clear sweet gel came out. She laughed. It WAS all so stupid, just like her.

“You’re right,” she told Sunny. “You’re right! I’m so sorry! Here, have some syrup.” She turned to the world at large. “Who wants a lick!” Candy laughed. Duh. She felt sweet and easy, and would probably feel that way forever.

“Lexi!”

A brown girl with enormous tits that Candy didn’t recognize at all came running down the ramp to the beach. Behind her was Blake, who was covered in what looked like chocolate all over his shirt. The girl had dark brown hair and was exactly Lexi’s height, and wore a tanktop Candy vaguely recognized. She hugged Candy and went in for a kiss. It felt nice, so Candy went with it. Their tits rubbed together. When Candy looked down they were both leaking: she an amber syrup and the new girl a milk chocolate.

“Oh my gosh I didn’t even recognize you!” the girl said, breathy. “Blakey said you were so sweet and I was like, oh gosh! I missed you!”

“Mom?” Candy said.

“Uhh yeah of course!” the chocolate girl said. She was just as gooey and rich as Candy. They smelled so good together. ‘Who else would come look for you? We followed your footsteps! They’re all sugar! Blake came and got me! I think he might be your Daddy now!”

Blake was still walking down the ramp. Candy turned to wait for him. He was going to have to watch his sugar intake, but they could manage that together.

As a family.