The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Are you proud of all of this?” Amelia said.

She waved her hand at a girl struggling to walk under the weight of her own breasts. Wheelbarrow girl had blonde hair down to her ass and wore a white shirt that only half covered her boobs, and not at all her nipples. She was still, for some reason, carrying school books around, despite perpetually toppling forwards from tits.

“She’ll even out,” Kirk said, mollifying. They walked arm in arm, Amelia with difficulty. The girls had insisted on four inch heels. “Sometimes the ass comes in later. Or she was a special project. Wait until she’s nice and cantilevered.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Oh, Amelia, you have to understand, this is it. Or will be. This is a full bore world domination crew.”

She glanced over. He wasn’t at all joking. Big boobs blonde met a friend, who greeted her by motorboating her tits.

“World domination, huh?”

“You’re on a date with probably the future governor of, I don’t know, Minnesota or something.” Kirk gave her a smile. He could probably feel her heartbeat. She was all snuggly up against him. “Maybe. If I pass my final exam. And here we are.”

It was in the Computer Science building, the ugliest building on a campus that made a virtue of architectural mistakes. It combined the low concrete squat of the 70s with a pointless spire, also made out of crumbling concrete. There was a hum near the place, pleasant to listen to.

“I think you’ll like Mr. Placer,” Kirk said.

The inside had been—remolded. Amelia wasn’t sure what the interior had ever looked like, but certainly not a long hall with no rooms or hallways of any sort. There was a lot of crushed dust on the ground, and pieces of rebar and wiring stuck out of odd sections in the plaster. Cabling ran everywhere. Almost uniquely, nowadays, it didn’t smell like spooge and girl lube and the human mating process.

“We’re doing such cool shit here,” Kirk said, solemn.

“Where girls learn to drool?” Amelia said. She ambled around in her heels, conscious of Kirk’s eyes on her. It was a really daring dress. She was mindful of her resistance mission. “Can I take some pictures?”

“Oh sure,” Kirk said, shrugging. “Just remember to put your finger over the lens. Yeah, there you go. Just like that. Feel free.”

“Where’s the mind wiping device?” Amelia said, snapping away. Hopefully the phone would filter away her finger.

“We’re nearly three decades past basic mind wiping,” a man said.

He was a pure Gregory Peck, including the pipe, which was tucked between two severe lips. He had a full, flat face thick with authority, and a squared-off jaw. He looked like everyone’s Dad, and wore pleated khakis.

“This is my girlfriend,” Kirk said, eagerly. “Amelia. Amelia, this is Mr. Placer. You know how your phone reprogrammed you? He did that.”

Mr. Placer did not offer to shake her hand. He didn’t rake his eyes up and down her tits, either, which made him very chaste, as the campus went.

“Nice work,” Amelia told him.

“She can still do sarcasm?” Mr. Placer said, arching an eyebrow. “What about cynicism?”

“She’s been resisting!” Kirk said, excited. “Almost none of the caloric pathways, and apparently just three neural rewiring sessions, out of sequence! I don’t think she’s more than halfway along the Whyte-Rainbow self-reinforcement matrix. And she’s been here the entire time!”

Mr. Placer’s eyes gave out a grudging amount of respect, although Amelia was concerned about many of the terms she had just heard. Three neural rewiring sessions? “Young miss,” he said. “We are well, WELL past mind wiping. Let me show you this.” he led her into the hall, over trunk-like cables and past aluminum boxes with powerful exhaust fans. In the very center of the hall was a trio of satellite dishes in a nest of corded wire.

“THIS device, if I press this big red button,” Mr. Placer indicated an alarming red button, “makes every female in a fifty mile radius orgasm repeatedly and uncontrollably until such time as the device is turned off. A mere fifteen minutes of exposure and they are essentially reduced to dolls that cum. Wipes them down to the brainstem.” He slammed his hand into the big red button.

Amelia squeaked.

“If I had the device plugged in. Which I do not, because it is a museum piece. I invented this device in 1994.”

“It’s really cool,” Kirk whispered, his arm around Amelia. She let him rest his hand on her butt, and took another pink-fingered picture of the large red button. “It reverses like, two million years of evolution. Its wild.”

“Child’s play,” Mr. Placer said, indicating well over half the hall with a wave. “The brain wants and needs these things. It wants to touch, to be touched. It really wants to orgasm. It will do ridiculous things to orgasm. It wants to breed. Expanding these pathways is merely adding new lanes to an old highway. Now, the real challenge, that is in reshaping the brain entirely!”

He patted a very small box on top of a table, all by itself. It was about the size of two shoe boxes. “Convince a brain that it needs, it must, spend all its time inside this box. Show a girl some videos that make her climb in and shut the latch, and cum herself stupid for doing so. NOW we approach a challenge.” He opened the box and showed them the inside.

It was empty.

“And yet we are still only up to 2005! THIS, THIS is the modern day!”

Mr. Placer exhaled a cloud of gravel-gray smoke, closed his eyes momentarily, and then picked up a yellow folder lying on what had to be his personal desk. There were a number of other pipes on it, as well as an iMac from, as well, 2005. He held it up proudly.

“Is there a woman in there?” Amelia asked, timid. Nothing seemed totally implausible.

“Uh—no. Interesting idea but no. Here,” Mr. Placer opened it up, eyes on the ceiling, and handed it folded over to Amelia. Inside was a single slip of paper, on which was printed what seemed like a single line, but run through and along the entirety of the sheet. Amelia stared at it. The line clearly started on the upper edge, as there was a discrete break there, before shuffling into a set of interlocking knots of surprising depth and fidelity. She held the page away from her—there was something about it, some overarching pattern, that if she just—it was like a Magic Eye, only much more urgent she attend to it…

“Yes, this makes females stupider and hornier just looking at it,” Mr. Placer said, proudly. “With nothing but ink and paper. If we had you hooked up to an x-ray we could see blood rushing here and there. Can you imagine? Classical bimbo conditioning with a pencil!”

“Sir?” Kirk said. “She’s about to drool on the paper. And I…”

“Oh, of course. Yes.” Mr. Placer yanked it away. Amelia found herself staring at her own hand. The whorls of her own palm were interesting, but not—what had she just been doing? Why—was her chin wet?

“Huh?” she said, slowly.

“Would you like to take my picture?” Mr. Placer said. “For your friend? Caroline?”

“Ohhhh, yeah!” Amelia pulled her phone out. “Group selfie! Everyone in!” She got them together, Kirk with his beard, one of the world’s most dangerous men, and her. Amelia made kissy lips at the camera, and conscientiously stuck her pinky over the lens, as instructed.

“Say pusssyyyyyyy!”

It was probably a bad idea to—something… something. Amelia was having a difficult time coming up with complete and full sentences, with capital letters and periods. This was different from when she had a persistently pink person inside of her, telling her to be a slut. This was more—the word escaped her. And then another word, and another word.

“Where—where are we going?” Amelia said. She was wrapped up tight against Kirk, his beard tickling her ear, and it was a very good feeling. The entire time of her solo resistance she’d never felt completely and totally warm. Even wrapped in a sleeping bag, there’d been a cold pit somewhere deep inside of her, listening to the campus fuck itself into the night. This was—so much—what was the word?

Happy.

“I thought we’d stop by my place,” Kirk said.

“And… why?” Didn’t she have somewhere else to be?

“Really? Are you resisting or is this just, actual confusion?”

“I don’t… I’m…”

“Those pictures are really something, aren’t they? I can practically feel your ass getting plumper. Lets get some food in you, okay? It’ll help you think, believe it or not. You don’t want the calories coming out of brain matter.”

“Okay,” Amelia agreed. They were at fraternity row, which had been placed, for unknown reasons, next to the STEM buildings. As a women-heavy institution it was possible the intent was to concentrate and isolate the boys. Instead it had led to incessant nerd-jock strife. Or had. Now a bunch of cute boys were all around, making it even harder to think.

She had been to a few fraternity parties. More than one at the building Kirk steered her towards, using gentle pressure on her butt. Epsilon Xeta Beta. A grand red brick manse with scalloped greenery on both sides. The cedar doors stood wide open.

“Hi Kirk!” a half-naked redhead said, just inside. And then a torrent of other coos and giggles. Amelia blinked, intimidated. The entire building had been infested with bimbos. They had sharply defined features and small eyes, and were uniformly short, almost pixie-like. A lot wore oversized t-shirts, presumably left behind by the fraternity brothers.

They were all watching Calving U on the ultra-wide big screen. Female Main Character was exploring what her butt felt like with three fingers up it.

“What happened to all the guys?” Amelia said. It was a relief when Kirk ignored the women and headed up the staircase. It was more expensive wood, with so many coats of veneer Amelia nearly slipped in her heels. She wrapped herself ever closer to Kirk.

“Oh, those are the guys,” Kirk said. “Yeah. This was a big Sisley project.”

“Those are—”

“They’re girls now, believe me. Very much girls. I’ve probably knocked up a dozen of them. Yeah.”

“Oh.” Amelia tried to consider that, and failed. Kirk didn’t seem concerned.

“Yeah, Sisley put a pink bra in the dining room and dared them to get rid of it. Sword in the stone scenario. They all turned themselves into really dumb sluts trying to get it out. I think they still try from time to time, whenever they want even bigger boobs.”

They reached the upper floors. Here there were signs of a mass gender changeover. The rug had been vacuumed, for one. Everything had been dusted and run over with a sponge, leaving only the more baked-in grime. “Hi Kirk!” a co-ed walked by topless, in a burgundy pair of panties, her tits enormous and perky.

“We brought a ton of underpants with us,” Kirk said. “And still had to ship in more. Okay, we’re here. Stand back a little bit, I’m going to get attacked by my roommates.” They had reached a master suite, with double doors, the knobs an extra-shiny brass. An old inlaid sign read “CHAIRMAN OF THE BROADS” which explained why Kirk had taken the room. He swung the doors open.

“Now!”

Both girls had platinum hair, although one was some kind of asian, and the other an indeterminate ethnicity. Identifying ethnic markers were lost beneath mammoth tits, a maid outfit, and caked-on makeup. Both wore the same maid gear—black and white with a frilly apron that didn’t cover their slits. The only possible tell that these were once boys was their urge to attack, and, just perhaps, that they didn’t quite have the same oversized butts as was commonplace. Amelia felt at her own tush. It was unusually wobbly.

Asian maid knelt in front of Kirk, undoing his fly and pulling down his pants with swift, sure movements. They looked practiced. His cock came out plenty hard. The second girl got on hands and knees behind the man.

“Push, Helen! Do it!” she urged.

Helen had decided to instead suck Kirk’s dick.

“Helennnnnn,” the second girl moaned, disappointed. “We set a trap!”

“They’ve been trying to kick me out since I moved in,” Kirk explained. “When they were two really big dudes named Christopher and uhh…. What was your old name?”

“Slutbunny,” the disappointed one said. She crawled on hands and knees to the front side of Kirk, to join the blowjob already in progress. They were both sloppy and enthusiastic about fellatio, and very good about sharing. It was hard to tell where one mouth left off and the other started. Kirk was dripping precum, which neither let hit the ground.

“It was certainly not Slutbunny. Alright, fine. You win. Last time they tried to lead me out the building by tempting me with their anal virginity. I was supposed to follow them as they waddled on all fours to—somewhere.”

“The woods,” Slutbunny broke in.

“Kirk, why did you bring me here?” Amelia said.

Kirk looked nervous, or as nervous as a man could be while getting his knob polished. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Well, you know, honestly, I felt kinda bad for you. You’ve been trying so hard to fight all this and its like, a total waste of time. You’re just making it hard on yourself. Like, aren’t you drinking the tap water? We drugged that too, you know? Obviously. I mean of course we drugged the water supply.

Amelia drank gallons of bathroom tap water every day. It tasted super good.

She burst into tears.

They got her situated in Kirk’s room. The room commanded an expansive view of the northern edge of campus. If Amelia could see through the tears, which she could not, her aerie was just visible off in the far distance. But she blubbered on, conscious of how tears were ruining her makeup, legs splayed and heels askew. She’d been placed on the couch, which was the first furniture she’d gotten to sit on for months. It was comfortable. Kirk’s laptop sat on a desk in the corner.

“Its been SO hard,” she whimpered.

“I bet, I really bet,” Kirk said, nodding his head. He stroked his beard and sat on the side of the bed. This was an enormous poster bed left over from the Edwardian era. Velvet curtains were pinned back.

“I mean, I sleep alone, I eat cheerios two out of three meals, I try so hard with all the resist-y stuff, and I still get the big dumb boobs and the stupid-big butt and I’m SO horny all the time and it SUCKS!”

“Can’t even enjoy it,” Kirk said. His cock was still out. It was tended to by the girls, who were on the floor, giving Amelia flat looks. “Terrible.”

“Yeah!” Amelia pointed at the outdoors. “Everyone else is obviously having such a great summer getting all slutted and stuffed and I’m like, hiding from them in the bathroom and rubbing my cunny and watching them get their brains fucked out and drooling and—”

“Yeah. Absolutely. That’s the best part. I mean, afterwards you’re this pretty dumb fuck toy, and who the heck knows what’ll happen to you, but during? A blast. Ah, dang.”

Amelia wiped her face clear and tried to get a grip on herself. She was so close to making it through the summer. True, she could feel a warm ooze of lube between her legs almost all the time. And she’d lost any sense of dismay from a boy’s cock threatening to paint her white with jizz. In fact she was sorta hoping Kirk could aim his dick slightly more towards her mouth. But summer was nearly, so nearly over.

“Can you help me, Kirk?” she whispered.

Kirk and his beard considered this.

“Well, here’s the thing.” He picked her up with big strong muscles and put her back on his lap, where she was happy. She put one hand on his cock and the other on his chest, and felt much better right away. “I’m not sure what I can do. Look what happens when I rub your nipples.” His hands batted away the single strap of her dress and pulled her tits out. Slutbunny and Helen applauded, from their spot on the floor. His hands sent tremors through her. She jerked and spasmed in his hands, mind fuzzing out.

‘See? Its not like this is just fat tissue. The nerve conductions here are wired directly to the nucleus accumbens, and there’s a lot more of them. It’s like an on off switch for girls. We call it the argument-winner. Your nipples completely rule you.” Firmly and decisively, Kirk pulled on one of her nipples. Amelia came. She leaked all over his big strong legs.

“And you’re still stroking my dick while cumming, which means you’ve gotten the full autonomous behavior reinforcement suite. Have you been drinking jizz? Probably, right? So then the male bonding and submissiveness kicks in. Here, I’m gonna turn you on my knee and spank you. Tell me not to.”

“Uh?” Amelia was suddenly on her chest, her manhandled tits pressing into his legs. It was a struggle to keep his dick happy, but she was all about it. There was a sudden sharp almost-pain on her rear end. And then again and again. “Ooh.”

“Looks like a normally developing ass.” he rubbed it. “You probably don’t realize how much wider your bone structure is. Like, your entire skeleton changes. How’s your asshole?”

A finger started to probe. That did it. Amelia was an anal virgin. That was the line. She bolted upright, fell backwards into the couch. Kirk, not bothered, continued on. He rose and walked across the short distance between them, so his cock wobbled in front of her mouth.

“I didn’t even eat the bimbo food,” Amelia complained, stroking his cock again. This time she was rewarded with a burst of jizz in her face. She looked down. Helen had gotten bored and was inching apart her legs. This, at least, was okay. Amelia had been getting her pussy licked for awhile.

“Oh man,” Kirk said, sympathetic. “You know what’s funny? There’s barely anything bad in the food. The food is just pleasure enhancers, I swear. I know its all pink and gross. But yeah its just endorphin juice and poundage. Alright. Amelia, suck my dick. Now.”

She’d never done that before. But it—was her boyfriend. And she could hardly say no to a man. Amelia only hesitated momentarily. It was so perfect in front of her, and Helen’s tongue between her legs urged her on.

“Look, baby,” Kirk said, once her tongue was at work. He was so good and patient with her. A great boyfriend. Amelia took it as deep as her throat would allow. “Maybe, maybe if you drink nothing but bottled water… but the moment you’re around someone infected, you’re infected. We’re social animals. We need to be around others. They make life worth living. Suck a little harder, huh? We form our little groups, we fuck, and we breed. You were always gonna be just another fuck toy the moment you smelled a friend. Here, enjoy.”

He came down her throat. A sluice of cum ran down her throat, and made her, immediately, less hungry.

“On your back, slut.”

“You’re… are you helping? Is this helping?” Amelia looked down. Slutbunny had replaced Helen at some point. She barely felt the tongue at work. All bits of her felt so good. “You’re.. My boyfriend…?”

“Oh, Amelia, baby, I’m one of them. I don’t want you smart. I want you to have been smart. Here, lets get you pregnant, you’ll feel a lot better.” Kirk positioned her on the bed, legs wide, so he could fuck off the side of it. Helen and Slutbunny hopped onto the sheets as well, wholly naked, so they could have a good view. Amelia looked down. An enormous dick approached. She couldn’t allow this. This was the final straw, the last bit of resistance. She was so wet and juicy for it.

Kirk pushed forwards. His cockhead felt at her fold. She was quivering so bad. She had to say something, perhaps “fuck me harder” or “please, Kirk, fuck me hard.”

Kirk stopped.

“Hold up a moment.” He pulled back and peered at her pussy. “This is a standard cunt. No enhanced clitoral development to speak of. Amelia, honey, you’ve gotten fucked before, right?”

“No!” Amelia put everything she had left into it. Every bit of remaining resistance. No, she had not gotten properly fucked by a nice big dick. She was not some stupid cunt.

Kirk started to laugh.

Big male guffaws. He put both hands on the bed and laughed, chest shaking, dick wobbling. All three girls watched him, amazed. His dick even softened, just a little. It seemed completely genuine.

“Never been—never been fucked! You’re like—Amelia how did you possibly.” he could barely breathe for it. Amelia wasn’t sure what to think. Why wasn’t her cunny getting fucked, finally? When Kirk finally composed himself—much later—he dried his eyes and crossed his arms. He looked at her with something that approached respect.

“I can’t do it,” he said. “You’re amazing. An entire summer with us and no dick. Those two sluts started out as boys, and they get cock a dozen times a day. I—look, this is gonna sound stupid, but I can’t do it. You’re so close to making it. Amelia, great date. Thanks for the blowjob. But I have to break up with you. I have too much respect for you.”

“These are worthless to me. Worthless,” Caroline said.

“I’m… sorry,” Amelia said. She’d gotten changed before leaving the frat house. Or rather, she’d passed out after Kirk had announced their breakup. Helen and Slutbunny had gotten their hands on her, and then they’d changed up her clothes. Now she was in a pink and white confection—a white fluffy skirt with unnecessary pink suspenders, and a very faded pink cami with flecks of Kirk jizz on it. Her new loaner panties—hot pink—were fully visible. They were slick and wet.

She couldn’t quite catch her breath. As far as Amelia could tell, her entire body had readied itself for the long-awaited moment, when she’d get some dick. Her thighs still quivered, taut. Her legs kept spreading apart. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she had unladylike sweat all over her. It was everything about getting ruthlessly fucked into the ground except for the part with the penis.

There was no annoying pink presence this time, whispering about how nice it would be to have big tits. Now it was just a constant mental dirge: cocks. Cocks in her mouth, her ass, her pussy. It filled her to overflowing. She was pretty sure that was the only word she could spell. Amelia was afraid to try to spell her own name.

“Your thumb is over every single picture,” Caroline complained. No, thank you Amelia. No, you went up two cup sizes to get these pictures, thank you. No, oh, you can’t close your lips now all the way, what a hardship, good job Amelia. “Can you at least tell me anything?”

“The name,” Amelia said. “I got the name!”

“And?” Caroline looked a little less aggrieved. She paced behind her enclosure, deep in the library. Her attentive staff of librarians had grown larger, their chokers heavier. Many had added ball gags to the gear. Before entering Caroline’s lair a team of five had rubbed her down with wipes and checked her for contraband. One of the librarians had even licked her butt. They waited outside, heads bowed.

“Its Amelia,” Amelia said. Sweat broke out on her forehead. “A-M-E-L-I-A.”

Caroline rubbed at the bridge of her nose. Her own eyes were bloodshot and fierce, and she’d lost a lot of weight. The journalist looked very small and very angry, back there behind plastic sheeting.

“You know what frustrates me the most?” Caroline said. She stopped and pushed both hands at her barrier. “I could do this. They wouldn’t stop me. I could strap on my respirator and walk the ten minutes to that building and ask for the guy’s name, and he’d tell me. He’d take photos with me. They think I’m a joke. And maybe I’d get infected and maybe not. But I could do it. Whereas every girl I send out comes back as—you. This. With nothing. Nothing!”

Amelia slumped against the floor. She’d gone straight from the fraternity house to the library, well aware that she’d taken enormous doses of the wrong kind of medicine. Her tits swung when she walked, her rear was on full display, and it was only an inner core of left-over determination that said: you’re still different. Yes, you’re walking in a perfectly straight line, in heels, to make your butt look good. Yes, you have been drained and messed with. But you walk to a real destination.

“We’re not YOU,” Amelia said.

“Clearly!” Caroline said. “Look, slut, I have one more job for you. All it requires is legs and arms. You still have both.”

“No more JOBS,” Amelia moaned. It all felt so pointless. She gestured down at her body, discouraged. She had the same undeniable curves as everyone, her legs wouldn’t close, and she had not a single pube on or anywhere near her body, unless Kirk had left some of his behind. On her face.

“I made contact with the outside world,” Caroline insisted. She went back into her solitary room within a sealed room, and emerged wearing her respirator. She strapped on two rubber gloves, letting them smack skin. “They’re making the trek to pick up my findings. All of it. The names, the photos, the samples. In fact…” Caroline took a photo of Amelia, focusing on her exposed pussy. “Add another to the After pile. There, you made a contribution. But I need an example of process. A program. I want whatever is on your boyfriend’s computer. Can you do that, bimbo?”

“We broke up,” Amelia mumbled.

Caroline slipped underneath the plastic sheeting and stood, fully present, on the other side of the room. She sniffed, audible even through the mask. “I can smell you even from here,” she said, disapproving.

“What’s it like?” Amelia asked, half-curious.

“Wet slut,” Caroline said. She produced a USB drive. “Just plug this in.”

“I can’t,” Amelia said. She shook her head. She’d given up a lot, for this. Or had she? What was the alternative? Disheveled pigtails, berating new bimbos for not living in a hamster cage?

“Do it for me, for the resistance,” Caroline said. She pressed the drive towards Amelia.

“I—”

Caroline flourished a sudden very large vibrator, produced from seemingly nowhere. It was a deep purple. She tapped it, and it flared to life. She jammed it between Amelia’s legs. It made a noise like an outboard motor, and rippled the skin on Amelia’s legs. Her clit sang along. “I know how to motivate you girls. Do it,” Caroline said, “And I’ll put all ten inches up you, and spank you until you cum.”

She seemed very interested in the spanking.

“N-no,” Amelia said. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, and she felt certain that was it. The last bit of resistance. She’d lasted until—what month was it? Day? It didn’t matter.

“I’m impressed you remember that word. A little.” Caroline turned the vibrator off. “Do it for the world, then. All the girls out there with their legs still crossed.”

She wasn’t about to say no, anymore, to anything. But Amelia felt okay about saying yes to that one.

“I can’t,” Amelia moaned, to the assembled boys and girls. “I just can’t do it.”

The aerie was outright crowded. In fact there were too many people for everyone to comfortably fuck, especially with the skylights in the center off-limits. There just wasn’t room for the space-intensive doggy fuck that was the norm, where the guy had his feet wide-set, and the girl was sprawled all over the place.

Of course they’d all adjusted. Even in a nervous, high-intensity environment they needed to get their rocks off. Most mating was done with the guy sitting, his legs crossed, and the girl riding him on top. It was an intimate, compact position that Amelia kinda loved to see, especially since once the girl inevitably passed out, she just collapsed into a hug, while the guy drenched her interior. A makeshift blowjob squad did their best otherwise to keep everyone calm.

Amelia had returned from her Mr. Placer/Kirk/Caroline encounter and collapsed for the better part of three days.

When she’d awoken it was to the inevitability of her own bimbohood. She had big blonde curls now, the same blank blue eyes that half the campus had. The only clothes that still fit were her calming cummy sweater, which was stretched taut over her new body. She even had a tan somehow. And she’d woken up chewing gum. Meredith and Lindsey swore they hadn’t given her any to chew. It was a mystery, and was also watermelon flavored.

But there were bigger issues. The anthro building in general and the aerie in particular had become the sanctuary, the hiding place, for most of campus. Summer was over, and the evil mind controllers were leaving town. Taking a lot of girls and boys with them.

“Everyone shush,” Meredith said, peeping through the windows. The sound of dozens of sexually transformed boys and girls went down a smidgen. “Shush!”

The white trucks trundled around and around, collecting unused boxes of food, blissed-out men and women and their enlarged sexual organs, fantastic equipment that drew oodles of power, Kirk-like men in their khakis and jeans. It was all done, it was all leaving town. And everyone with a remaining iota of brain power, with some primal remnant of fear, knew: don’t get loaded onto a bus. Word spread, between fuck sessions. There was a safe place.

They had flooded into the aerie. Everyone knew about it. It was the best spot on campus.

“Then don’t do—whatever it is you’re worried about,” Lindsey said. They’d all made special room for Amelia, for her dumpy sleeping bag, even her wads of collected clothes. Lindsey had her hands between Amelia’s legs.

“I’m supposed to unmask the whole global whatever,” Amelia said. She waved a hand. The girls kept painting and repainting her nails. Right now they were black and white spirals. She took a moment to admire them. “I got a computer thingie right here. I just—I gotta get through all this without getting super entirely slutty, and I can’t go back into the—something’s den. What’s that animal with a really dangerous den?”

“Isn’t his name Kirk?” Meredith said, passing by. She’d taken to wearing a pair of glasses, to look super smart. She’d conceded that she could barely see with them on. She led a guy over by the cock. There was a small patch of unused space by Amelia that she could fuck him on.

Lindsey lowered her tongue between Amelia’s thighs. It had been a steady stream of girls down there, pretty much every hair color Amelia could recall. They said she tasted different—not like the cotton candy sugar gum of every other female. Just like a lubed up pussy. A reminder of olden times.

Amelia sighed, low and long. She’d been depressed all day—from the weight of the world’s future on her shoulders, and also from the failure of her inaugural book club. The idea had been for everyone to take turns reading from a copy of Course Curriculum Anthropology 158, which someone had found on a floor. It hadn’t gone well. It had turned into a massive daisy chain of dick to cunt to dick as successive college students failed to make it through four or five words, then dove onto the last participant. And when it had gotten to her, just one sentence had caused fatigue and made her titties ache for stroking.

But she had gotten through a sentence, she reminded herself. It failed to lift her mood.

“Lindsey, you can stop,” she said, stroking the blonde’s hair. She teased her own new curls unconsciously. “I’m too sad.”

Turning down oral was rare enough that those close by turned and stared, and a few even stopped, mid-thrust.

“I was gonna try and get through the whole summer without getting fucked and—” she indicated her body. Even the scent of boy cum was hardly soothing. “Blah.”

“Bitch, summer’s over,” Meredith said.

Amelia looked at her. A minute passed. “What?” she said.

“It’s over, summer’s over,” Meredith said, patiently. “Look out there.” She pointed out the big windows. It took another ten minutes and patient explaining to help Amelia understand. There, in the far distance, past the white trucks onloading the girls on all fours with cowbell collars, was a tree with a sheaf of colored leaves.

“You did it,” Meredith said. “You went all summer without getting dick.”

Amelia stared at her. Meredith failed to stare back. It was really hard for her to focus with those glasses on.

She’d done it.

It took another day for the information to percolate and make itself felt. In fact it didn’t strike Amelia fully until the next evening, in between big bowls of pink chow. It really did taste super good, and made her titties swell. “I did it!” she said, bolting upright.

“You did it!” Lindsey said, automatically.

“I can get fucked!”

She’d won the fight. The very last imperative. She’d fought it off, despite how badly everyone knew girls needed to be roughly inseminated.

Amelia stood up, absently tugging on a nipple. All the boys were available. They owed her. The girls politely slid off erect cocks. But there was really only one choice. Conner had never quite understood that he was allowed inside now, and, besides, he was too big to easily get through the doorway. She waited patiently for him to finish fucking another doorframe girl, and then led him, cock-first downstairs.

“Conner, I did it,” she told him, climbing up on the concrete block. Her body tingled pleasantly. The concrete wasn’t as cold as she’d figured. It felt good, a nice contrast to the heat all elsewhere in her body. “I lasted. Its the season after summer. Fall. its fall.”

“That’s cool,” Conner said. He eased his cock to the entrance of her pussy. Unused to a relatively new slit, it took him a moment to ease his way in.

Deep within Amelia’s head, hormones of all sort dashed out of repurposed glands, sending urgent messages of all kinds to start various productions. Unnecessary mental architecture shut down. All that was left was an uncomplicated, primal urge. Just to make sure everything went well, her brain sent way too many chemicals to already-overloaded pleasure receptors, to make clear that Amelia needed to wrap her legs around this man’s body, and urge him forwards. He did, finally. He felt so good, not just his cock, his entire body, strong between her legs.

Conner had already inseminated nearly thirty girls, several within the past few days, as the relatively unaffected made for the Aerie. Nonetheless he had been remade to manufacture as much cum as necessary. A familiar pressure grew. His dick was already spurting precum. She was very tight.

“Fuck me, stud!” Amelia gasped. “Oh, god, cum in me! Cum in me!” She angled her hips upwards to keep as much in as she could. It all crescendoed into a fever of electrical pulses, swirling hormones, and desperate, animal need. Amelia felt a sudden clarity of purpose, a complete lack of needs. Air. Water. Food. Friends. She had them all.

Cum. Conner grunted. Her eyes went very wide.

EPILOGUE:

Past midnight and the fraternity house was very dark and very quiet. The librarians made terrible agents, but they had a basic need to please and had a few residual brain cells from past experience reading books. They were able to report: all the former residents had been moved out, the lights were out, and no one at all seemed to be inside. Caroline had spent two hours huddled under a bush, to be sure.

Preparation and dedication, that was all it took. Anyone could’ve escaped the bimbo apocalypse of Seeprince University, as far as she could tell. The old University was full of forgotten safe places. And true, not everyone had a simpering staff of self-flagellating librarians. But Caroline had always made her own luck.

She lowered the respirator and checked her hood. Two pairs of gloves, black boots. She’d lost twenty pounds over the summer. Probably the only girl in a twenty mile radius to drop cup sizes. Even the boys had gone up to a D-cup average. Not her.

Caroline slipped in through the front door.

The old wooden floors creaked, but then, they creaked regardless. The house seemed to be completely empty, the slutty inhabitants shipped out.

The steps were slippery. Caroline took each one with the utmost care. In her back pocket she had a Rovertac knife; she had a police revolver in a side holster. The campus police had been—well, she wasn’t sure what they had been turned into. They were all in a heap in a corner at the station, and covered in a blanket.

The double doors hung open.

Caroline hadn’t really expected Amelia to make the attempt. She’d been clearly chewed up and finalized. Caroline had to be honest with herself: giving the poor girl the vibrator treatment had been a little bit of letting off steam on her part. There was just something about the wide-eyed, stupid stares of the girls that made her so—angry. They couldn’t try a little harder? Last a little longer?

Kirk’s laptop stood in the dark. The bedroom was empty otherwise. Even the big bed Amelia had described was gone.

Was there a noise from downstairs? Caroline slipped a USB drive out of her pack and plugged it in. The laptop lit up, unexpectedly. Caroline froze. She tried to close her eyes a moment too late.

A pixelated 16-bit beard appeared in the middle of the screen. Blocky words appeared:

INTRODUCTION TO REPROGRAMMING 101

FINAL EXAM

KIRK DOTOROK

Sometime later three men showed up in the doorway. Mr. Placer, and Kirk, and a third man, who had dark black hair and was hard to look at. Mr. Placer kept his eyes on the ground as much as possible. Kirk, who didn’t know better, kept sneaking glances at the third man.

“Caroline herself!” the man said. The girl was still in front of the laptop. She’d moved to a kneeling position, her hands at her sides. She was completely still. The program showed her so many wonderful, terrible things.

“I thought you were going to recruit her,” Mr. Placer said. “Impressed by her endurance. If my student here did his work correctly there won’t be anything impressive left to hire.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kirk said, automatically.

“Oh, I don’t know,” the third man said, thoughtful. “Six hours of exposure, give or take? And her arms are still at her sides. Breathing patterns aren’t elevated. Given the program, she should be raving to be fucked. She might still impress us one more time. All she has to do is close her eyes. Or turn her head.”

He looked back at the other two. Even Kirk, this time, was smart enough to lower his gaze. “I’m fine either way,” he said.