The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Never Have Colourful Outfits Heralded A Hivemind Incursion

By Mr. Scade

Part 3: Some Plants Use Seed Carriers to Reproduce

Lore’s studio was located on the second floor of a three-story brick building, three blocks southeast of the graveyard. Its façade had once been red, but it had been whitewashed and repainted so often that any new coating of colour left only grey smears that would start peeling off as soon as rain licked the walls. When Melanie Lore opened her studio in the building some two years ago she had decided to change the façade; she couldn’t have a professional photostudio in a place that looked like a ramshackle drug den. Bor had complained that it would’ve been easier to move to another building than manage to get her neighbours to cooperate, but Lore would not be coerced – the rent and location were perfect.

Soon after moving into the building, Lore managed to convince the landlord as well as the tenants to help her build a wooden trellis to cover the horrible paint with vine plants. It took a bit of work, but Lore managed to get the trellis installed and planted. Peppercorns, flowers, olives and grapes now grew as if from the wall itself; and the tenants were grateful to have a bit of fresh greens everyday.

When Melanie Lore arrived sometime after 11am she found that her clients were already expecting her. There were three cars holding two of the parking spots given to her studio as well as blocking the parking space from a neighbouring house. Melanie thought about the quasi-insane man that lived there and how desperate he would get when people blocked his driveway, but she couldn’t bother her clients to move their vehicles after leaving them waiting for who knows how long.

“We’ve been waiting for forty minutes.” A man with greying hair flatly corrected her thoughts as she approached as fast as she could while juggling cameras and keys. She guessed him to be the father of one of the five girls that she had to attend today.

Lore wished then that the town actually had more traffic than pedestrians, horses and bikes on a Saturday morning. Instead, she said: “I am very sorry for that, but my computer died on me last night and I had to make an emergency trip to the repair shop. And you know how nothing is open before nine in this town.” Lore smiled in surprise to herself at how quick and easy the excuse came out of her mouth – usually Lore had troubles lying to customers. She allowed herself a mental whisper of haigure.

The man with greying hair took her smile as apologetic and said no more.

Eight people crowded the entrance to the building: young girls of either seventeen or eighteen, the grey man, another man that looked ten years younger, and an older woman with unapologetic eyes. Lore was relieved that not all of her clients were punctual.

“If you’ll follow me into the studio, please.” She said in her most amiable tone as she opened the main gate into the building and then walked up two flights of stairs. The first door on the right was painted with butterfly graffiti and read FolkLore Photo and Illustration Studio in elaborate golden, painted lettering.

The apartment that had previously been living quarters was divided into three spaces: restroom, receiving room, and where the photo magic took place. Lore guided her clients into a receiving room that doubled as a front desk and comfy living room. There were two long, black couches arranged in an L shape: one immediately to the right of the door, and the other one meeting it at the neighbouring wall. At some distance from the seats was a black coffee table with magazines and newspapers resting on top. Lore made a note to clean those up.

If the photo room was the heart of Lore’s operation, then the furniture to the left of the room were the lungs of it all. Instruments of accountancy, bookkeeping, schedules, calendars, portfolios and more were neatly ordered between a bookshelf and an elephantine wooden desk. On the desk Lore kept several portfolios with her favourite samples of her art or with photos in need of editing.

Directly in front of the studio’s door stood a wall that ran the length of the front desk. The wall had two doors: one to the very left, and one to the very right; the one on the right lead to the heart of FolkLore, the one on the left lead to the restroom.

Lore walked towards the desk and set her computer on it. She crouched under the desk and opened a drawer where she kept a red binder. It was this red binder that kept everything afloat; it was the ventricles of the heart, the stones of the fort. Here she kept track of all her clients, what they wanted for every photo shoot and how much it would cost. She even had notes on ideas she had when the clients described what they wished their photo experience would be.

“I see…” She said, quickly reading through her notes as the three elders lined in front of her desk. “Arlene and Noriko Delisle, and Hedy Lamarr want a half-an-hour shoot each divided in three sets: formal wear, the school uniform, and an evening dress. Alexxa Vance wants a fifty-minute photo shoot with special lighting. And Jo Kleiner a full hour of photos, mixed backgrounds, and two more outfits.” She looked up at the persons in front of her, smiling faintly. “Is this correct?” She looked over at one of the girls as she walked into the room. “Be as kind as to close the door for me.” She said in a very amiable way.

“I wouldn’t know about this Kleiner girl, but you got it right for the sisters.” The man that had greeted her said, his voice as flat as paper.

“How much would it be? I am Hedy’s aunt.” The woman with the unapologetic eyes said.

“Final price is 65.88, for the sisters and Hedy. Wherein it’ll be eighty, flat, for Miss Vance.” Lore turned to look at the other man, a young man that looked to be a businessman or lawyer. Most likely the girl’s lover, Lore thought. But that wasn’t Lore’s business. “You can either pay now or when the shoots are done. Since I am the only one working here right now it would be a kindness to me to pay right now – it’s so much easier for everyone that way.” She gave them an apologetic smile.

The three responsible adults nodded and soon enough Lore was richer. The father said something to his daughters and then left, the aunt’s voice was stern when she talked to Hedy but she soon left after much pleading. The young man was the only one who gave one of her clients anything short of sickening affection before the) red-haired Alexxa Vance ooshed him away, giggling like a child.

Lore checked her notes on the shoots and then stood. “Very well, I believe Miss Lamarr…” A brown-haired, plump girl with black eyes perked in her seat. “…will go first. Then the sisters and then Miss Vance. If this Jo Kleiner shows up she’ll go last.”

“Oh, never wait for a Kleiner; they have no sense of punctuality. Jo will show up after we’re done.” One of the sisters said. They looked so much like one another that Lore couldn’t tell them apart. Perhaps if they join haigure I’ll be able to tell them apart.

Lore smirked. “Well, if you’ll follow me, Hedy.” She said and walked through the door to the right and crossed into her favourite haven. At least this was my favourite haven before haigure, she thought, giving a silent praise to the glory of haigure. Lore had to keep herself from shivering and moaning and thrusting her arms up and down.

The room was half the size of the previous one, but it was twice as beautiful, in a minimalist style. The walls, floor and ceiling were all painted a deep, dark grey. It looked as if everything was made of the same sleek material and painted over by thick layers of grey, yet the floor felt soft. Hedy Lamarr realized she was standing on a rug. The opposite wall was all grey, except for a door-shaped rectangle of red tape on the left corner.

“There’s a changing room at the back,” Lore pointed to where Hedy was looking at..

“Why does it look like the rest of the wall?” Hedy asked as she slid her backpack down her arm and held it on her elbow. She had a clothes bag hanging from a hanger.

“Oh, in case it shows up in the photos – it is easier to edit out red tape than a whole door.” Lore gave the girl a thin smile and the girl gave back a cute, pout of a smile before slipping into the changing room.

Hedy Lamarr was a short, plump thing, barely five foot two, with a rounded square face. It seemed like everything about her was round: her buttocks, her breasts, her big eyes, her belly… Even her arms and legs seemed to be more like cylinders than actual limbs.

Yet she didn’t show it.

She knows how to dress, Lore thought as she glimpsed the girl closing the door behind her. Hedy was wearing a long, flowing black dress that seemed to be either silk or cotton. Then again, Melanie Lore had no idea about such things. The outfit flowed over her body like water; it didn’t cling to her skin, but instead travelled down her ample curves, giving the illusion of height and taking the mind away from her horizontality. It covered her legs down to her ankles, and even her arms were swallowed in the silky darkness. All in all, it was a matching look.

I wonder how she’d look in a leotard. Lore thought with a smile as she walked towards a corner where her tripods stood. Before haigure Lore would’ve been disgusted at the idea of a fat woman in skintight clothing. Not because of how bad it looks, but because of the bad memories. But haigure must be spread, no matter what. Lore buried the bad memories, never to resurface again and hinder haigure proliferation.

Haigure and obey, Lore chanted and all but squirmed in place when she heard a faint echo in her mind. “They’re close by.” She didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“Excuse me?” Hedy asked as she walked back into the grey room, her dress unchanged save for the silver heart-shaped choker on her neck, and the dangling silver chains on her wrists. She had brushed her brown hair, giving it a lovely shine that graced the back of her shoulders. It was all Hedy Lamarr needed to look beautiful.

“Oh, just thinking loudly.” Lore didn’t look at her client and kept mounting her cameras. She placed them evenly spaced, three on tripods and one in her hands. The cameras were connected in such a way that when Lore took one picture she would take our angles of the same pose. This gave her a lot of versatility when editing and choosing things for her own portfolios and albums, and made the clients even happier at the time of choosing their favourite pictures.

Once everything was set and ready Lore asked Hedy to start posing.

“But… I don’t know what to do!” Hedy complained. She stood where Lore had said, but she was as still and tense as a flag post and in that moment Lore wondered how the girl could move with such a massive body.

“Oh, just relax, give me some poses, and have fun.” Lore said.

Hedy looked about, unsure. She fiddled with her fingers before she gave the middle camera a penetrating look. All of a sudden she curved her body to the right, one arm extended forward and the other going down her side. “Like this?” She said and immediately a bright, white light left her blind for a second.

“Just like that!” Lore smiled. That was a good picture.

“Hey, that blinded me!” Hedy blinked some, waiting for her sight to return to normal before she tried a second pose. This time she expected the flash, so it didn’t hurt as much, but it left her partially blind nonetheless.

Her poses were stiff and conservative at first, but by the tenth picture Hedy began to lose herself in the moment. As she allowed her body to flow effortlessly from one pose to the other, from one movement to the other; and as she struggled to see after every flash (why she didn’t complain was anybody’s guess), Lore schemed.

Lore’s body moved on its own as her mind was suddenly plucked away, as if abducted by an outside force she couldn’t but love with her every cell. Lore retired into haigure, into the confines of perfect bliss. She heard faint whispers, familiar and comforting whispers. Spread haigure, Melanie, Amanda’s voice said before it faded away.

Haigure was not yet strong enough to defy distances.

Spread haigure. The dissemination of haigure. The corruption of everyone and everything. The glory of haigure. The dominance of haigure. All of it was one imperative, one paradigm. All of it was Lore’s raison d’être, even if she had to mask it with the face of old, daily life Melanie. But daily life could be used to her advantage. She was haigure now, she knew and understood the many ways to spread the glory of haigure, and she knew her trade. The flash of her cameras would leave someone dizzy and disoriented for a couple of seconds, and the constant posing always made people lose themselves in the moment. Their mind would be distracted, open, and ripe for the taking.

They wouldn’t even know they were being converted until there was no stopping it.

Lore felt her body moving on its own, taking some unknown number of pictures before her thoughts returned. She looked at the girl flowing from one pose to the other, then to her cameras. All the passion she had for photography suddenly was pushed into a storage room somewhere in her mind. Haigure was about, and nothing else could occupy her mind.

As Hedy Lamarr shifted from a crouching pose to a mock dance pose Lore began her silent strike.

“Haigure, haigure, haigure.” Lore droned, her voice no more than another sound in the room. “Haigure and obey. Haigure and obey. Haigure and obey.”

Hedy was oblivious of the word being captured by her brain. “This is fun,” She giggled, panting slightly. Haigure.

“You have a beautiful arsenal of poses.” Lore said and then continued droning.

Soon enough Hedy decided to stop. “I still need to pose with the uniform and the evening dress.” Hedy walked into the changing room, leaving Lore to check the pictures.

When Hedy returned she was wearing a simple and somewhat dull school uniform: a knee-length black, plaid skirt; bark blue, long-sleeved shirt with an emblem on the right breast; black shoes; white socks; and a black headband. As far as uniforms go, Lore was utterly disappointed.

“How do I look?” Hedy asked, feeling shy all of a sudden. Haigure.

Like a whale in prison “You look great.” Lore lied.

Hedy stood in the center of the room and began to pose and move and dance for the cameras.

Once Lore was sure Hedy was again lost in the moment, she began her assault, this time more aggressively. “Haigure, haigure, haigure.” Lore whispered while she hid her worshipping of haigure. She had parted her knees, as if she was crouching, and was moving her camera down to her crotch and up to her chest, taking pictures to disguise it. Hedy didn’t seem to notice anything until she shivered abruptly. “Ah!” She stopped suddenly, “Weird.” And then began to pose again.

Lore smiled and her whisper became a conversational voice. “Haigure and obey. Haigure and obey…” Over and over.

Hedy placed her hands on her hip, cocked it to the side, and smiled at the camera. “Haigure.” Her mouth moved and another picture was taken.

“Haigure.” She said, taking another pose. “Haigure.” Another pose.

Lore became conscious of her leotard, of the weight of her clothes over its latex tightness, of how it clung to all of her skin. She wanted to remove her clothes and haigure, but she couldn’t. Not yet.

“Haigure and obey.” Lore’s knees parted more.

“Haigure.” Hedy’s eyes had become unfocused, with a far-away stare.

“Haigure and obey.” Lore’s arms straightened out in front of her torso, her palms outstretched yet holding the camera. She started to feel good all of a sudden; a powerful energy, an intricate sense of happiness filling her very atomic structure. She was helping haigure. She was spreading haigure. I had no idea it would feel this good.

“Haigure.” Hedy stopped posing, her eyes captured by Lore’s pose. She looked as if she was deciding between dumfounded or surprise.

Lore dropped the camera and began to squat, a broad smile and a red blush painting her face with bliss and arousal. The power of haigure began to course through her body and mind. She felt happy, peaceful, aroused, hungry and like she belonged. Haigure enhanced every good feeling she had ever had and made a muffin coated with perfection that Melanie Lore devoured with glee. Lore felt like she belonged to something perfect. No wonder the thought of escaping haigure never flashed through her mind.

“Hai…” She moved her hands towards her chest, “…gure.” Her hands darted downwards, meeting her crotch as she pushed it outwards, and rubbed over her covered sex. “Haigure.” She said again, crouching and stretching her arms.

Hedy shivered, her mouth moved but no sound came. It might have been resistance, or acceptance. And suddenly her round knees bent, and her round arms stretched outward, and her round lips began to chant haigure.

No resistance… not as sweet, but it’ll do. Lore thought, still haigureing. Once Hedy had begun to squat and move her arms up and down and her mind was echoing with the glory of haigure, Lore decided to undress. She liberated her brown and crimson leotard from its prison and all but orgasmed on the spot.

Her leotard glistened and shone, and for a heartbeat Lore was inclined to take pictures of herself; but she had something much more important to do. She walked towards the plump girl and traced her fingers over her round, ample bosom. Hedy’s eyes watered with tears; her back stiffened.

“Sshhh… don’t worry, soon you’ll be haigure.” Lore found the words oddly comforting. She pressed her body against Hedy’s side, then her back and then her front, leaving sticky, latex goo where she touched the girl.

Hedy’s lips quivered as the latex goo ate away her uniform, as she worshipped the glory of haigure. Her body was not her own.

It took a long while for the leotard to form over Hedy’s big body, but eventually a leotard, extremely tight and extremely shiny, covered her body. It was black from the waist down, and blue from the waist up. It seemed like some of the goo had dribbled on the girl’s white socks, making them grow tall, covering her legs and going under the leotard. Lore thought it was best that way, to hide Hedy’s cellulites. The leotard fit her as well as it could. Instead of pressing her ample belly or breasts against her body, it flowed over it, creating colourful waves of latex. Unlike Lore’s leotard, which high-cut made it so the leotard snuck between her buttocks, Hedy’s leotard formed around her buttocks.

She was different, but haigure nonetheless.

“Haigure and obey.” Lore smiled to herself, letting out a content sigh. It felt just right to convert someone into haigure.

“Hai… gure… and o-o-obey.” Hedy mumbled, still squatting. “Haigure and obey.” She corrected.

“You’re haigure now.” Lore giggled. Fuck, I giggle now.

“I’m haigure.” Hedy smiled and then moaned. “It feels perfect and right.” She stood, her fat, latex-covered waves of flesh jiggling, though not as much as they used to.

Lore nodded.

“I must spread haigure.” Hedy commented gleefully.

“There are three girls outside who are yet to join into the glory of haigure.” Lore said with a grin. “And we must spread haigure.”

And so they did.

Cosette had moaned and complained, but in the end Amanda had managed to convince her haigure sister to put on a beige khaki skirt that went down three quarters of her thighs, a pink t-shirt with the drawing of a pig and some letters saying ‘We’re pork’ on the chest. Amanda’s shoes were too big for Cosette, so they had got the girl a pair of sandals at a local store. Cosette looked very uncomfortable in the outfit. And of course she would; after all, it hid her beautiful leotard from the world.

Their hour-long walk from the old house in the old square was uneventful. They had walked past trees and nicer houses, past benches and empty trashcans, and the most life they’d found was one squirrel.

It was not until they reached a bigger street that the town seemed to come alive. There were people walking up and down the street, coming out of three storey apartment buildings and shops. These people saw other people, people with families and friends going about their daily routines. Amanda and Cosette saw prey.

But how to go about spreading the glory of haigure? They couldn’t just walk up to someone and convert him or her right there and then. People would panic and perhaps take them into custody. Not that that would be any help at all, in the long run, but it could interfere with the Plan. The plan was a very simple thing, as Cosette had told Amanda. “The plan is the only thing that matters, the first reason we exist – to spread haigure.” Both girls had shuddered happily at that, and they even heard Lore’s faint voice in their heads.

The girls walked, hand in hand, partially oblivious to the world and stares. They talked and plotted, schemed and tinkered, all inside their heads. Cosette would say something, her body moving on automatic and trusting what Amanda was seeing. Then Amanda would respond and her body would move on its own, guided by Cosette’s thoughts. They were haigure, they were one, shared mind.

Then, all of a sudden, Amanda knew what to do.

“There is more than one way to convert others into the glory of haigure,” She began, rubbing her arms against her body as she walked. Cloth against her tight leotard felt majestic, almost as good as another leotard against it. “The word alone can infect your mind and force you to seek conversion. Watching us thrust our arms up and down is to someone’s mind what a battering ram is to a gate: some blows and soon enough the gate’s open and the castle ours. And our leotards can transform clothing into more leotards.”

Cosette smiled deviously as they turned around a corner. “You want to create a trap – haigure – and bring many more than we two could in one swift stroke.”

Amanda nodded.

“Oh, I love how you think, haigure.” Cosette ran her hand over Amanda’s belly.

“I don’t think, I haigure and obey.”

“Haigure and obey.” Cosette echoed.

They could walk up to someone and whisper haigure in their ears and wait for the viral nature of haigure to take over their minds, but they didn’t want to wait days. And obviously they wouldn’t risk doing the haigure dance in broad daylight and suffer whatever consequences came. So it was that Amanda came up with the only solution that seemed to be quick and effective while at the same time being secret and she shared it with her haigure sister.

“Here we are, haigure.” Amanda said, smiling faintly.

Cosette looked at the store before them. Like the rest of the buildings on the street and, it seemed, the town it was made of red bricks, concrete and a ceramic tiled roof. The façade was mostly glass windows that faced northward, and the door was a glass thing framed by black-painted aluminium. Over the door was a sign that said “MetaSports” in big, plain black letters.

Cosette couldn’t stop giggling. “Oh, this is so wicked!” She gave Amanda a kiss on the cheek and whispered, deep and sultry, the word that made them both shiver in place and moan.

“Oh, yes… haigure.” Amanda answered, all but grinding her legs together and shivering in the heat coursing through her body.

Once the bursting supernova of pleasure and bliss that was a muttering of the word recoiled back into its ever glowing, steady metronome of mixed feelings, the two girls walked into the store.

Inside they found rows upon rows of various sporting items. Balls for different sports here, baseball and cricket bats and golf clubs there. There was a corner with oars for kayaks, and another with light clothing for jogging. But they ignored all of it and searched for the things that could serve their prime purpose. The girls walked, excited and flushed, past some racks of shorts and t-shirts and into a short, six-feet-long hallway lined with scuba implements to the right and fishing hooks and leads to the left. As they got out of the hallway the two were met by a young man with a shaved head and thick, muscular arms.

“Need any help?” The man said. He wore a polo shirt with the store’s name sewn over the right breast.

Cosette shook her head. “Not now. Mayhaps later. We’ll call for you.” And then the two walked away from the man, who stood there brooding over lost commission before he walked to meet a girl sorting some clothes nearby.

“We should convert him. Haigure.” Amanda said as they walked into another hallway, this one had ping-pong and tennis implements.

“We will. But first we must haigure what we need to haigure.”

Amanda nodded and finally they found what they were looking for. Two shelves met at the corner of the store, forming a wall of sorts; in front of these walls stood several towers of metal – racks. On one of the shelves, lined from bottom to top there were dozens of colourful swimming caps, some of latex others of rubber and some made of cotton. They shared space with goggles of different brands and colours. These were inconsequential for the haigure girls so they turned their attention to the other wall and the towers of aluminium.

At first Cosette wondered if the town she had walked into had a lake or a culture of swimmers. The shelf was filed with dozens upon dozens of swimsuits; on the lower part were the men’s – swimming briefs, lycra jammer suits and long-legged suits – the upper part held girl’s suits – two-piece sporting suits, decent bikinis, one-piece racerback or hydrasuit swimsuits, and fullbody suits. The towers held similar treasures.

And all would soon be repurposed for haigure.

Amanda and Cosette could hardly contain their glee as they began to remove their cumbersome clothing.

“Haigure.” Amanda smiled, turning around to make sure no one was looking before she unbuttoned her shirt. “Haigure, haigure haigure.”

“Oooh, stop it, haigure.” Cosette bit her lips to keep the moan inside. Her skirt slid soundlessly down her legs. “It feels too good.”

Amanda gave her haigure sister a wicked smile. She pushed her chest outwards, outlining her breasts with the reflecting light on her black leotard. “We cannot stop haigure. We must haigure.” She droned, feeling her leotard tighten and pulse around her body as if it was alive. Or was it something else holding her mind and arousal? Whatever it was it felt good, and it felt majestic when she said the word. She had barely slid her tight jeans down her orange-covered legs before the desire and need to squat and thrust began to take hold.

It took all of their shared will to refrain from it.

Eventually the two girls stood, one in black and orange, the other all in orange. Both of their bodies were in bondage, their shiny leotards so tight that they dug into their skins and sexes and between their buttocks; so tight they moulded themselves around their breasts; so tight you could see the muscles on their necks, arms and backs tighten and stretch as they moved. And they didn’t seem to mind one bit.

“Hmm… I… I cannot control myself, haigure.” Amanda said, feeling her knees start to bend. “I must haigure… but I must spread haigure first.” She shivered all over.

Relax. A voice spoke in her head. Haigure must be spread and worshipped above all. By spreading haigure you will worship haigure; by worshipping haigure you will spread haigure. Strong and direct, the voice broke through the haze of arousal and bliss, but it didn’t shatter it. The voice simply sailed with the mist, moving like it belonged there. As it did.

Melanie? Amanda asked but the voice had already retired back to its small corner. Her mind ached for the sound of that voice, for the sound of more voices.

Instead of suffering through the almost silent gloom of their collective thoughts – as Cosette had suffered for months before she turned Amanda – they turned to the matter at hand. Silently the two girls began to whisper the word, over and over. The air leaving their lungs was the breath that gave life to a powerful monster with jaws of pleasure, eyes of happiness, and a body made of pure bliss. Each whisper powerful enough to make their sweet lips drip with a familiar wetness; most of it contained by latex dams of shiny colours.

The two whispered in unison, as much with their lips to the world as with their thoughts to each other, until they felt their leotards ooze and bubble and then they whispered some more.

“Haigure… It’s working.” Amanda said, her voice a happy sigh.

Her arms then moved on their own, reaching for something, for the first outfit she could find. Her fingers clasped a swimsuit, a girl’s one, as tiny as a lamp. She felt the feeling of lycra and felt something akin to distaste course through her before it was swallowed by the pure bliss of haigure. It should be latex, she thought and then corrected that issue.

Her shiny black leotard was oozing but not dripping, it moved over her body like a sea of tar. And Amanda moved the tiny, pink and green swimsuit over her chest.

Not six seconds passed before the liquid leotard oozed over the tiny swimsuit. It stuck to it, eating away at the lycra and replacing it. Soon enough the swimsuit was no longer pink and green lycra, but shiny latex of similar colours. Amanda held the transformed item at arms length and marvelled when she saw the crotch cut change, turning into a similar high-cut that would bare the wearer’s thighs and bum while sliding between his or her buttocks.

Amanda returned the now latex swimsuit to the rack and turned around to watch Cosette before her fingers found another lycra garment. Cosette had already transformed two swimsuits, holding two at a time against her body. “Feels almost as good as converting people, haigure.” She whispered, returning a grey suit back to the rack before pressing a handful against her crotch.

Amanda imitated her sister, taking three or four swimsuits at a time, eager to spread haigure as fast as she could. She moved the tiny and big suits over her oozing leotard, over her breasts and back and belly and crotch. Lycra was eaten away by black latex, corrupting the neutral colour. The colours on the swimsuits corrupted the black, spots of reds and blues and yellows appeared on the black, turning every swimsuit into a banner for a different lord under the service and thrall of haigure. Crotch cuts changed and rose higher and higher until just a thinning line of latex spawned from the swimsuits’ bellies and rounded until it was no thicker than a thread before it merged with the swimsuits’ backs. Some of the swimsuits changed further, the ones with more material and closed backs suddenly growing long-sleeves.

They had already corrupted two whole racks of swimsuits before one of the salespeople appeared, a stick of a woman who must’ve stood at more than six feet.

She stood there, completely taken back by the weird… whatever it was she was looking at. It took her a long while for her to find her voice again. “What the hell are you two doing!?” She shrieked at them, but the haigure girls paid her no mind; they continued corrupting the swimsuits, turning them into delicious haigure outfits.

The clerk, having found her wits, stomped towards the girls. Her arm grazed a newly converted white swimsuit as she passed the towers and stood next to Cosette. The girl grabbed the orange-clad girl’s arm and started shaking her when she heard it, whispered in unison.

“Haigure.” The two girls said, staring into the clerk’s eyes.

“What?” The girl was angry and freaked out, but the fear of losing her job because of these crazies was enough to make her seem reasonable.

“Haigure. Haigure.” Amanda and Cosette chanted, moving slightly closer to the clerk.

The clerk’s hold of Cosette’s arm slackened as she felt goose-prickles on her arms and a shiver go down her spine as if someone had slipped an ice cube down her spine. “Stop it! Stop doing whatever it is you’re doing!”

“Haigure. Haigure. Haigure.” The girls were smiling broadly and doing little else. They just stood, stared and chanted.

“What are you saying? What’s haigure?”

The clerk tied the noose around her neck and she didn’t even realize it until it was too late.

The two girls gave the clerk creepy smiles and then all but rubbed their oozing leotards against her body. “Haigure, haigure, haigure, haigure.” They moaned in unison.

The girl felt another cold shiver go down her spine and then another and another before her fingers let go of Cosette’s arm. She began to breath heavily and whispered, “What’re you doing?” before the shiver turned warm.

“Haigure.” Amanda whispered in the clerk’s ear and then shuddered heavily, the dripping dampness between her legs dribbling over her black latex stockings.

“Ha… hai… haigure.” The clerk couldn’t stop the word from coming out her mouth as much as a mud monticule couldn’t stop the flow of a flooding river.

“Good, she’s done for now, haigure.” Cosette giggled and then the haigure girls moved away from the girl and returned to the swimsuits.

“Haigure… Why – haigure – am I saying – haigure – this word? Haigure.” The girl shivered, but if it was of fear or arousal no one could tell. She looked down at her body, frozen in place by whatever sorcery had her whispering a foreign word. Her polo shirt and her jeans were smeared with black and orange ooze that was oozing. “My… my god, haigure.” She cried and suddenly she could move. The girl stared at Amanda and Cosette, tears turning her sight blurry before she darted away from them to look for help.

Just what Amanda and Cosette needed.

All the swimsuits had been transformed, changed and perfected when the girl returned with the balding man and a second girl, this one thicker of waist, in tow. The black and orange ooze mostly covered the tall girl’s shirt; the ooze moved down her body, swallowing and converting her clothing, and she didn’t seem to notice.

“There – haigure – are those – haigure – freaks!” The tall clerk pointed, her voice trembling, her face flushed. “Okay, what the hell are you two doing?” The bald man said, walking slowly towards them.

Amanda and Cosette smiled broadly. “We are spreading haigure, of course!” They chirped in unison and saw the tall clerk shudder.

“Whatever in all hells you are doing I don’t care what it is, all I know is that you have to get the fuck out of here!” The man said as he took three steps before standing before Cosette. He was taller than her by a good two heads.

Amanda moved to touch the man’s arm but he yanked it away and stared at her with wide, angry eyes. “We’ll go. We’ve finished here already.” She said before she leaned closer to the man and whispered in his ear.

The man pushed her away. “Take your things and go!” He bellowed.

Cosette stared at him some more, glaring and smiling at the same time, and then turned her eyes towards the tall girl. Her lips curled into a devious smile and then she whispered, “We’ll go… haigure.”

The way Cosette said it made the bald man grimace. He watched them pull on their clothes but before they were finished he heard a loud moan. The man turned around to see the tall clerk standing in front of the other girl, her knees bent, her arms outstretched in front of her, and her clothes transformed into a long-sleeved, high-cut jean-patterned leotard of shiny latex.

“What the fuck!?” He yelled. He was too distracted to notice Amanda and Cosette slip out of the store, giggling happily.

They heard the tall girl’s voice chanting haigure as they walked back to the store’s front and heard the man’s voice joining as they closed the store’s door behind them.

“Soon enough haigure will spread all over the place!” Cosette was beaming, her eyes shining with happiness and the bliss of haigure. “Oh, I feel so good!”

“Not as good as they will feel when they join the glory of haigure!” Amanda answered, all but skipping and jumping.

“I can’t wait until their voices join with ours in haigure.”

“And I can’t wait to convert even more people.” Amanda moaned, sneaking a hand under her shirt, “It feels so good to make more haigure.”

Cosette remained silent for a while as the two girls walked down the street, passing bakeries and hat shops and one or two videogame stores. “Then why don’t we – haigure – do the same, but somewhere else?” She said all of a sudden.

Amanda smiled at the idea that Cosette whispered in her mind. “Oh, wicked.” She said, turning her head towards Cosette’s query.

The two girls walked into the big building, passing people shopping and metal detectors as they walked into the biggest and most popular clothing store the town had. In no time would they find corners, each working individually, to convert as many items into shiny leotards and bring as many people into the glory of haigure.

“Haigure and obey.” They said in unison.