The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Cathy was pissed.

Mega ultra pissed. Wasn’t this the 21st century? So why was Mom determined to throw her back into the dark ages?

Oh sure, Mom hadn’t really been the same ever since the First Church of Stepford opened shop in town and she’d been one of the eager people to flock to the new chapel.

Cathy didn’t usually fret over her mother’s fads; veganism, yoga, meditation etc, because thankfully none of them lasted long.

But now, oh fuck, it looked as if the Stepford lifestyle was going to last a while. Mom, no more of a wrinkled face, dead weight, now happily floated around the house like some weird clone of June Cleaver.

And on prom night of all nights, Mom announced no daughter of hers would walk unescorted to the dance. She insisted on arranging a chaperone.

“Ugh!” groaned Cathy “I don’t need an escort like I’m five years old; God this is just a party.”

Mom, merrily knitting a baby’s sweater by the fireplace, replied, “Ah but I’ve arranged for that sweet Peter Croaker to walk you to prom.”

Cathy laughed, her temper wading at this revelation. Pete Croaker was the resident nerd, 90 pounds of acute acne, buck teeth, and bottle glasses. The fact that he’d be her chaperone would damage her cred but honestly, she wouldn’t have to worry about him getting physical with her.

“Alright,” Cathy rolled her eyes, planning to ditch the dork as soon as she was out of view of her house “I’ll tolerate him.”

The doorbell soon rang, and Cathy answering, was about to say: “Hi Pete, let’s roll but don’t get any ideas,” but stopped when she saw it wasn’t Pete Croaker who stood on the mat.

Or rather it was the new Pete.

Cathy couldn’t believe what her eyes were showing her. That a guy could pack on 150 pounds of solid muscle in under a week and also find the time to fix his teeth! This tall and burly man standing in front of her, hadn’t looked this way only (oh god) four days ago. Four days ago, he was an oily haired scarecrow.

“Catherine,” he said and his nasally whine had been replaced with a slow baritone, “Great to see you.”

He called out to her mom, standing by the living room door “Don’t worry about a thing Mrs. R. I’ll return your daughter, safe and untouched.”

“Well safe is good enough for me,” Mom chuckled as Pete placed his hand on Cathy’s shoulder, making her shudder.

Was this another guy called Pete? No, Cathy recognised his grey eyes, his cleft chin, this was the same fellow, she was sure of it.

And it wasn’t just the physical change but the new personality that alarmed her. No longer wearing the expression typical of a confused goldfish, Pete was now calm, secure, and just a little cocky.

It was a change Cathy would have liked had it not come out of nowhere. Had Pete returned from a year long absence this would have amused her but in four days. Was that even possible? Witchcraft, mad science? She didn’t have time to mull this over, though because with a sweep of his hand, Pete whisked her out of the front door and wrapping one arm as firm as an oak banister around her waist, walked Cathy to the prom.

Normally when any creep tried touching her, she would snarl but with Pete, he seemed so goddamn confident that she felt he had every right to do whatever he wanted.

Jesus, did that even make any sense?

“Um Pete,” Cathy asked a block away from her house “what the hell’s happened to you?”

Pete smiled in a knowing way, flexed his arms, letting the muscles ripple from underneath his shirt before replying “I just grew up.”

“Huh uh,” Cathy said.

“Trust me, never felt better.”

He laughed when he saw her raised eyebrows and said, “Hey cool it, I’m not out to harm ya. You wanna split at the dance and hang out with your pals, that’s fine with me but if there’s any creep who’ll do you wrong.”

He let one fist slap his palm, making it perfectly plain just how much he had changed, or perhaps Cathy reflected, had regressed.

“Err…thanks,” she replied.

Well regardless she looked forward to the prom, knowing her old team were waiting for her: Gwen, Murrin, and Stephanie. Dances like this were always the excuse to hang out together, either on the dance floor or behind the school, often with a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of cider.

Gwen with her multi-coloured crewcut was the school’s resident powerlifter, proudly displaying her large biceps to passers-by. She had gotten suspended for giving a guy a black eye. But fuck him, he pinched her ass, last mistake he ever made.

Murrin was the gossip, first to discover makeup and piercings, and the first to smoke. She made jerks burst into tears by her cutting remarks, or so she claimed.

Stephanie, bless her heart, was a bit fat, which meant she felt she didn’t deserve a lot of affection. When a boy, no matter how friendly, tried talking to her, she’d turned to the posse and mutter “Is this guy making fun of me? I can’t tell.”

The steady rumble of dance music, thumping from the school’s gymnasium brought a grin to Cathy’s lips, as she made apologies to Pete, before bounding past the double doors.

She then stopped dead in her tracks and gasped. Had Cathy woken up to find her legs missing she couldn’t have been more shocked. No girls or boys but ladies and gentlemen met her open eyes. The men were like Pete, so well-built as to be able to model underwear and as for the women?

The student body had always prided itself on just how non-conformist it was, with the girls in particular dressing in a galaxy of ways. Skirts and high heels were reserved only for the squares which Cathy and her posse weren’t, thank you very much.

But this?

A host of women, all wearing stylish gowns that parted to display shapely legs, filled the hall. Their hair was all natural, not a rainbow or gaudy colour amongst them, and nothing shorter than shoulder length.

As for their bosoms?

Cathy didn’t care about boob size, she liked hers small, no back pain to worry about. Sure, there were a few big titted women in school, but they were as common as four-leaf clovers. Only now every woman in the gymnasium, had breasts as large as E cups.

Okay, had Cathy wondered into the wrong hall, had this place been taken over by a beauty queen pageant or a supermodel convention? Because they were stunning enough to get on the cover of Vogue.

Snapping her jaw shut, Cathy then shakily headed off to the drinks table, trying to make sense of anything. Music played in some hypnotic rhythm, no longer dance music but the maddening sound of panpipes issuing out from the speakers.

With an unsteady hand, Cathy poured herself a glass of punch, finding the sweet taste calming enough, before she was ready to take another look at the strange crowd. A few couples were swaying to-and-fro, in a sort of waltz. The dishy fellows acted like gentlemen, bowing, and smiling at the smitten women.

No guy in her school was ever so…

Cathy blinked again and the feeling of the impossible, bubbling in the back of her head flared up as she recognised a blonde girl in a red dress, skipping in the centre of the dancefloor.

It was Audrey. Audrey Sakes.

Only Audrey Sakes was 4 feet ten inches, had a nose like a squashed apple and a chest flat as an ironing board. This woman was around five foot eight, had a cute button for a nose and her breasts were…

Well, they were big and by the way they jiggled, clearly weren’t fake.

And the kicker was that Cathy had seen the old, short, flat Audrey last night. So, she had somehow grown a foot or so in height and added several cup sizes to her jugs in a mere 24 hours!

All of Cathy’s common sense, her knowledge of physics and biology insisted that this wasn’t possible, when the faux-Audrey catching sight of Cathy, waved in her familiar way, with a call of “Hiya, having fun?” in Audrey’s voice.

Cathy shuddered. So, it wasn’t just Pete who had changed she noted as she scanned the sea of faces, who weren’t as she first thought, complete strangers but with a sinking feeling found she recognised them too well.

There was Derek Kirby, no longer a double chinned dullard but who now had the chiselled face of a Greek statue, there was Saul Banks, trading in his beer gut for a six pack. And oh, look at Tina Jenkins over in the corner, newly big boobed of course but her hollow eye socket, usually covered up by a pirate patch now had a fresh eyeball sitting comfortably inside of it.

Either Tina had a transplant since this morning or had grown it!

Cathy gulped, as an itch around her scalp persisted. This was an impulse, imploring her to bolt out of there. Either leave town before the men behind the curtain closed in or fling herself on her bed and wait for the world to stop spinning. Cathy found however she couldn’t completely panic thanks to the unreality of it all. It was just too impossible to believe what she was seeing.

It was then a firm hand pressed on Cathy’s shoulder, and she spun around to face a total stranger who greeted her as an old friend.

“Catherine,” exclaimed a very different looking Murrin “you’re here!”

Murrin? Not wearing her usual bored, stern look but seemed serene.

She almost skipped as she led Cathy towards a round table in the corner where two other women sat. Cathy was flabbergasted as she recognised the pair, despite how changed they were. Gwen and Stephanie who leapt up and hugged Cathy, their monstrous boobs suffocating her before she was ushered onto an empty chair.

“Girls,” Cathy stammered “Look at you. You seem…different.”

“Oh,” Gwen laughed “don’t we know it. What can we say Cathy, we just had to look our best.”

Gone was Gwen’s multicoloured crop top, replaced by a style which was long, glossy, and auburn. Gone was the dragon tattoo running up her right arm, gone too were her bulging muscles instead her figure seemed softer, curvier, and of course her breasts were a monstrous size, even by the standards of the gymnasium crowd.

“Your best?” repeated Cathy “Yeah sure…”

Had radiation from a test site mutated everyone? Were space aliens behind this? What was happening?

Gwen on catching sight of some hunk by a neighbouring table, waved and blew him a kiss, making pouty lips and goo-goo eyes when he waved back.

Cathy recalled Gwen of just yesterday saying “God, the dudes we have in school are dumb shits, maybe I’ll be a nun, maybe I’ll go gay. Unless they have better specimens in college, I’ll do it.”

But now a needy Gwen had risen from the table and was sighing and giggling as the hunky man bent down and kissed her hand, before whisking her away to dance together.

The look of adoration in her eyes, the way her body moved against his. Gwen was a terrible actress so there was no way she was faking. You could see, lightyears away, that the girl was head over heels into this guy.

What the fuck, was all Cathy’s bewildered brain could process.

“Oh Jesus,” Murrin was gushing to Stephanie “He asked me out, I almost died when that handsome man looked me in the eyes and made me feel like the world’s most special girl, what could I say but god yes.”

“Who?” asked Cathy.

“Tony Denmark,” Murrin purred.

Tony Demark? Cathy remembered Murrin whine before: “Oh Tony, that ugly idiot, trying to flirt with me. As if I’d waste my time with a caveman whose breath can curdle milk! Ugh!”

Could this even be the same person? Was Cathy dreaming it?

As Murrin whipped out her phone and texted away, cooing over the responses, presumably sent by a transformed Tony, Cathy turned her attention towards the caring face of Stephanie. This girl seemed about the same, save for the detail that the fat around her chin and gut had magically travelled to her boobs and butt. She looked at Cathy’s distress in that understanding way of hers.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“No, I’m not. What’s going on?” Cathy asked, “Why are you…”

She gestured to Stephanie’s bust “…different.”

Stephanie blinked and pulled a guilty expression.

“Oh,” she answered, “everyone’s just enjoying prom.”

“Stephanie,” Cathy retorted in a tone not unlike Stephanie’s mother.

“Oh alright,” Stephanie sighed “It’s thanks to the First Church of Stepford, they’ve organized the prom, selected the music and catering and everything.”

“The Church of Stepford?” Cathy moaned “That goddamn cult! They’ve brainwashed my mom and now gotten to everyone here!”

“Oh,” replied Stephanie in her ‘I might not agree with you’ way “My mom made me go to the Stepford Church, every Sunday, saying I’d enjoy it and you know what, I did. The people there were kind and friendly and I never felt judged or made fun of. And since I kept coming back, I noticed my boobs and butt were getting bigger. They told me it was nothing to worry about because Stepford brings that out in people.”

“You’ve been going to church?” Cathy frowned “you never told us.”

“Um…you never asked,” Stephanie muttered awkwardly “you never do.”

Cathy didn’t answer because yeah, okay that was true. She and the girls talked to Stephanie half the time, not with. Shameful? Sure, but anyway, she now had a vague idea of what was behind this, which meant she should just make excuses and run back home, maybe call her dad, beg for him to drive her out of town.

“Hey,” Stephanie beamed “Guess who I’m dating.”

Stephanie had finally gotten herself a date. If this was under normal circumstances Cathy would be happy for her.

“Who?”

“Rick,” Stephanie glowed.

Rick? Rick Berry? He had asked Stephanie out months ago after word got around that she was totally into him. She had timidly said yes before his friends leapt out from hiding, and pointed, and laughed whilst Rick snorted: “Like I’d ever date a fat cow like you? Please!”

Stephanie had run away in tears and Cathy despised Rick after that.

“You’re dating that asshole?” Cathy gawked.

“Oh, he’s not bad, not anymore,” Stephanie smiled “he came up to me and apologised. Said he felt awful for those terrible things and how he liked me but just didn’t know how to say it. So, he asked me out again and then…”

She exhaled in bliss.

“We kissed and it was so dreamy.”

Cathy was mortified.

“Anyway,” Stephanie explained “here we are.”

Yeah, Cathy reflected, this wasn’t healthy, or safe. How long would it be before they got to her?

“I think,” she spoke slowly, “I’ll go outside now, Dad just texted me, saying he had something important to say.”

Stephanie nodded and shaking a little Cathy rose, making a beeline to the exit, either planning to run to the bus stop, or order a taxi.

Keep your head clear, she told herself, just think straight, run, and don’t look back.

That was the idea, as she sprinted across the dance floor, pushing through a jittery couple, and ignoring the stares she received as she leapt through the doors to taste the cool night air before…

“Cathy?”

Oh god, she knew that voice. A firm, sexy voice that made her shiver.

She twisted around and oh man there he was, Zack Sanderson, first crush she got, standing by the doors, arms folded as if he had been expecting her.

First day of High School, Cathy saw him standing by the lockers and gawked, knowing she had the hots for him, in an instant.

She had never crushed on a guy before, okay there were boybands and cute actors that made her feel funny but with Zack Sanderson, he was real and could be poked at.

So of course, Cathy, seeing herself as a brave lady who’d never back down from danger, who lived by the motto “grab the bull by the horns” was too chicken to talk to a guy who was just way too handsome.

And now, Zack stood improved, taller, and sexier than before. And he was smiling at her.

Cathy felt the blood rush to her face, told herself she should run away, that Zack was just a temptation to distract her, but somehow her feet were glued to the ground as he approached.

“You know,” he grinned, “it’s prom night and I never got the chance to tell you something.”

“What?”

“How much I respect you. Cathy, you’re awesome and since high school is over, I can finally tell you, I’ve always had a major crush on you.”

You idiot, she told herself, scram, this is superficial, doesn’t mean anything. Flee and clear your head!

But her lips broke out into a big goofy grin as she giggled: “Really?”

“Yeah,” he replied before offering his hand “care to dance?”

She couldn’t think, common sense evaporated as she cooed: “Sure,” and hopelessly sighing, let Zack lead her back onto the dance floor. The voice in her head telling her to escape, or it would be too late was getting fainter and fainter.

Zack held her against his chest and Cathy found herself lost in his bright blue eyes. God, why had she never spoken to him before? They could have had many wonderful months together so shouldn’t she make up for lost time?

“Zack,” she said, “You look good.”

“Thanks, so do you.”

Could she blush any harder?

A slow, sensual tune slithered out from the speakers and Cathy felt a tad sheepish at her own tomboy clothes when everyone else was so well dressed.

Somehow her napping fears had evaporated, the unease and paranoia were giving way to a joyful light-headedness which might explain why her feet to wobbled a little. She was walking flat footed, wasn’t she?

Another clink on the floor and Cathy gazing down saw that her boots had vanished. Her feet were encased in elegant stilettos.

She didn’t scream as her grey socks disappeared and polish appeared on her toenails.

But stuff like shoes magically arriving out of nowhere, no longer alarmed Cathy, she was having too much of a wonderful time. And although she had barely worn heels before, she still swayed effortlessly on the floor.

Her jeans itched and then vanished, as she felt the air against her naked legs for a brief moment before a skirt covered them.

Cathy’s bra, not that she needed one with her modest bust seemed to strain as if it was too tight but then…

All the sensations of her growing breasts, her expanding hips, her hair travelling down to her waist were background noise to the sensation in her heart.

When Zack leaned forward and kissed her, Cathy found she had no panic or unease left, instead she wrapped her arms around his neck, shaking at the thrill of it.

Clapping sounds off in the distance. They had an audience? Who cared?

Zack broke off and then kissed her gloved hand. Catherine, adjusting her earrings and necklace, giggled at her wonderful boyfriend before thrusting her firm figure up against his. Her large breasts almost covered his whole chest and she gulped, feeling his considerable erection digging into her hip.

Catherine stood in her silky evening gown, her long brown hair, shining against the gym’s lights, her eyes gazing hopelessly into Zack’s, as Gwen, Murrin and Stephanie clapped in congratulations.

She was content with what she had become.