The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Night and Day

by Pan

Chapter 1

“Are you okay, Jackie? You look a mess.”

There was a brief pause, as the young woman tried to think of a suitably cutting comeback. After a few seconds, it became clear that her brain was completely incapable of wit, and the young woman replied with a simple sarcastic “Thanks.”

Jackie knew she looked a mess. Her face was puffy, her hair was full of knots, and the bags under her eyes were large enough to carry groceries in.

It hadn’t always been like this. Just a few weeks ago, Jackie had been in good shape. Trim and attractive, with flawless skin (none of the pimples that she’d started to find on her forehead and around her nose) and enough time in the morning to accentuate her features with a dab of makeup.

But just a few days ago when she’d tried wearing eyeliner, she’d totally forgotten to take it off before collapsing into bed, and woken up to extreme panda eyes. Panda eyes that she hadn’t had time to deal with before rushing off to class...

Jackie didn’t just look a mess; she was a mess. She’d thought she would be able to juggle work and study, but as soon as the semester had started up again, it had hit her like a train. Classes at eight or nine in the morning, and then work until well after midnight.

By the time she caught the bus home, she was so wiped that all she could think about was sleep.

“I’m serious,” her workmate Rob said, a concerned look on his face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to wave him off, but the motion was enough to make her head spin. What was wrong with her? She’d worked like this last semester without a problem; perhaps it was the extra unit of math she was doing, but for some reason she was really struggling this year.

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Not really,” she mumbled. That was the other problem—some nights she’d collapse into bed and drift off straight away, but on other nights the stress was keeping her up for a few hours.

Even when she did sleep, it wasn’t the deep sleep that her body obviously needed.

There was a pause as Rob eyed her off. Jackie knew that he’d always had a crush on her—one time she’d heard him describing her to a friend on the phone.

“She looks like a young Mila Kunis,” he’d said, and the comparison wasn’t inaccurate. Jackie had the same short build, the same long brown hair, and while her face didn’t exactly resemble the film star’s, it matched her in cuteness.

Jackie had a button nose and sparkling blue eyes. Her Mediterranean heritage had given her olive skin and thick lips. Lately she’d been too run down, but normally she jogged to work, and so she was in good shape.

She knew she was attractive, and had used it to her advantage. In the bar at night, she’d flirt for tips; at school, she’d wear skirts and shirts for her male teachers that maybe showed a little more skin than they should.

And when she’d learned that Rob was in charge of the roster, he’d been the target of her charms. She’d really wanted to make sure that she got as many hours as possible at the bar without having to miss school.

The flip side, of course, was that Rob had made sure to always schedule himself onto her shifts. Once the roster had been locked in, right before school started, she’d made it very clear that nothing was going to happen between them. He’d seemed hurt, but neither of them had never brought it up again, and Jackie had been relieved that their relationship had stayed friendly.

“Look,” Rob eventually said, breaking the silence. “I probably shouldn’t be doing this, but I have some spare sleeping pills. They’re great—they totally knock you out, but they only last a few hours. You’ll wake up as soon as your alarm rings, a totally new person.”

“Oh my god, for real?”

“For real,” Rob said. “Hang on, they’re in the office. I’ll grab them for you now.” “Oh my god Rob, you’re a life-saver.”

“Not a problem,” the young manager replied with a grin. Jackie attempted a smile in

return, but before she could get the muscles working, Rob had headed upstairs.

“Hey!” a customer called out, and Jackie realized that she’d been pouring a beer for that

entire conversation, and it was starting to splash onto her shoes.

“Whoops!” she said, and after serving the beer, dropped down to clean up the mess. God, she thought wearily. I could fall asleep right here...

* * *

When Jackie got home that night, her head was buzzing. Of course. All day when she was on her feet, she was exhausted; the moment she was actually able to just lay down and sleep, her mind wouldn’t turn off.

Going into the bathroom to brush her teeth, she flinched at the sight of herself in the mirror.

“God,” she muttered. “No wonder Rob said something...”

Her face was blotchy, her eyes were blood-shot, and it looked like there was something black in her teeth. Poking at it with her tongue, it was clear that it was licorice...the licorice that she’d had at 10 that morning.

“Ugh.”

She’d hoped that brushing and flossing would calm her mind down, but no luck—it didn’t take long for Jackie to decide to open up her bag and found the sheet of tablets that Rob had brought down for her.

“Here goes nothing,” she said, throwing two in her mouth and swallowing them down. To her surprise, they took effect almost immediately, and the moment she managed to stagger into bed, she’d fallen into a deep, deep sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Jackie jumped out of bed with a spring in her step. For the first time since the semester had started, she felt good.

No; she felt great.

As she showered, it was impossible for her to wipe a smile off her face. Whatever was in those pills, they were worth it. She’d slept solidly, better than she had in weeks, and to top it off, she’d had some pretty fun dreams as well.

The details were a bit vague, but she remembered dreaming that she’d called Rob and finally agreed to a date. In the dream, he’d been excited but not surprised—even when she’d told him that he had to come around immediately. A lot of the dream had been about preparing for his arrival. Cleaning her room, shaving her legs, even trimming her pussy-hair (which had gotten a bit wild over the last month or so).

Glancing between her legs, Jackie’s brow furrowed in confusion. Why had she dreamt that her pussy-hair had gotten long? Looking at it now, it was nicely trimmed, just as it had been in her reverie last night.

Ah well, she thought to herself, the smile returning to her face. The rest of the dream—everything after Rob had arrived—had been pretty wild. It was strange that her subconscious had focused on her manager; he wasn’t the kind of guy that she went for at all.

Dreams don’t mean anything, Jackie reminded herself, and didn’t think about the strange nighttime fantasies she’d had for the rest of the day.

* * *

“How’d the pills go?” Rob asked with a leer, and Jackie couldn’t help but blush at the way that he blatantly checked her out. Had he always been this unsubtle, or was she just more aware of it after their odd encounter from her dream last night?

“I didn’t try them,” she lied. She wasn’t quite sure what Rob’s game was; perhaps he thought if she “owed” him, she’d have to finally agree to a date.

Of course, before his flagrant ogling, Jackie had been getting closer to considering a date with him. If she had half as much fun as the dream version of her the previous night...

“Oh,” he said, unperturbed. “Sure thing.”

The rest of the shift passed uneventfully; the bar was fairly busy, and so she and Rob didn’t have time to talk again all evening. At a few points, she thought she saw him pointing her out to various patrons, but she soon decided that she was probably imagining it.

Real-life Rob is a bit of a creep, Jackie thought to herself as they were closing down the till. But if dream Rob were to visit again tonight, that’s something I certainly wouldn’t object to...

* * *

That night, dream Rob didn’t visit again. After the restful sleep she’d had the previous night, Jackie actually had the mental energy to do a bit of tidying before falling into bed. There was less needing doing than she’d thought; over the past few weeks of utter exhaustion, she’d managed to actually keep her room quite tidy.

When it hit 2:14am, she took two pills, and immediately fell asleep.

This time, she dreamt that some guys from the bar—two, three, maybe even four—knocked on her door an hour after she went to sleep, and she stripped off her nightclothes and let them all in, totally naked.

Before long, they’d taken their clothes off as well, and they all fell into bed together.

The next morning, Jackie didn’t spring out of bed with quite the enthusiasm she had the previous night. For the most part, she still felt great; better than she had in weeks, excepting the previous day. But as she staggered towards the kitchen, she realized she felt extremely sore.

Sore, and slightly sticky.

Jackie’s time had been split evenly between work and school for several years now, with no time to date. She’d had a few brief summer flings, and when the need really got to her, had even been known to pick someone up from the bar. And so it took her a few minutes to realize what the feeling of soreness was.

She felt fucked.

Really, really well fucked. In the dream, the guys had been rough and relentless, and she’d loved every minute of it. But now, in the morning, it almost felt as if her late-night company had been real.

As Jackie stepped into the shower, she shook the whole idea off. It had just been a dream.

She must have just slept funny.

Washing off the sticky sweat which coated her entire body, Jackie heard her alarm go off in the other room. She’d actually managed to wake up before it startled her into consciousness. That was something she hadn’t done for years now.

“These little pills of Rob’s are great,” she muttered to herself, before another thought hit her. She’d woken up before her alarm, gaining a head-start of at least fifteen minutes on her standard day.

Just enough time to get off in the shower, reliving the hot fantasy that she’d concocted for herself the previous night...

* * *

That night, at the bar, she blushed at the sight of the men she’d dreamed about. She’d thought about the dreams several times throughout the day. It had really been quite hot, and she hadn’t realized that her subconscious was so wicked. But it wasn’t until she saw their faces at the bar that Jackie remembered exactly who the dream had been about.

It hadn’t been two guys, or even three. It had been four big, rough-looking cowboys, and as soon as they saw her, a lustful look spread across all of their faces.

Jackie blushed, and hoped that a similarly lustful look wasn’t visible on hers. She had a good job, and a good reputation, and deciding to play out some kind of strange fantasy that her unconscious had dreamed up for her was not a good idea.

Still, she couldn’t help but think to herself. Wouldn’t it be fun...

Chapter 2

“You sleeping any better?” Rob asked.

“Sure am,” Jackie said, shooting him a grin. He raised one eyebrow, and she realized that it must have come across as more flirtatious than she’d intended.

“So the pills are working?”

Jackie hesitated. She had been using his pills, but admitting that to him felt like a bad idea. A few nights ago, she wouldn’t have had the mental energy to come up with a lie, but the new, well-rested Jackie had an answer in no time.

“Nope!” she said brightly. “Thanks though, but I’ve been drinking some herbal tea. That stuff is amazing!”

“It sure is,” he replied, and turned to serve a customer—one of the cowboys who had featured so prominently in Jackie’s dream the previous night.

At around eleven, things started to slow down, and Jackie found herself in another conversation with Rob.

“Doesn’t it ever bother you?” he asked with a drawl, and the young woman shot him a questioning look.

“What?”

“Being so flat-chested.”

Jackie drew breath sharply. She didn’t know whether to slap him or blush. A part of her

was tempted to say “You didn’t seem to mind the other night!”, but she knew that she would sound crazy. Of course he hadn’t minded in her dream—he’d been her dream version of him. A totally different creature from the rude, leering, downright cruel version standing in front of her now.

Well, actually, he’d acted much the same in her dream. But in her dream, for whatever reason, Jackie had actually enjoyed it when he treated her like shit.

But that was a conversation for a later time. Probably with a therapist. Instead, she just glared at him and turned back to the bar.

* * *

Rob’s comments must have really bothered her, because that night in her dream, she was still thinking about them.

And him.

She dreamed of getting up, just a few minutes after taking her pill and going to sleep, and walking over to the door to find him there with a smile on his face.

It was just as much of a leer as it had been in real life, but while asleep that didn’t bother her—she loved it. She loved the way he looked at her body, only occasionally glancing at her face (she had answered the door naked, of course). She loved the way that he roughly threw her against the wall and began having his way with her.

And when he pulled a strange ointment out of his pocket and began rubbing it on her chest, she loved the cruel insults that he whispered in her ear.

“That’s right, tiny-tits. We’re going to grow you some boobs. You ready to be my big- titted little slut? Yeah you are.”

In response, she’d just nodded and moaned (she never spoke in her dreams, not unless a guy obviously wanted a response) and watched, fascinated, as her tits began to slowly balloon out.

They’d started as a small B-cup. Not nothing, but certainly not huge. Not as large as Rob would have liked, that much was clear.

As she watched, they grew—Jackie didn’t know a whole bunch about cup-sizes larger than her own, but she guessed that they ended up as a large C, possibly even a D.

“There we go,” Rob said with an evil grin. “Now the guys will have something to hold onto.”

* * *

Jackie missed classes the next morning.

As soon as she woke up, she knew something was wrong. There was a weight on her chest that hadn’t been there before—not metaphorically, she could literally feel an unfamiliar weight.

The second she’d seen her new tits, she’d started screaming.

It’s all real, she’d thought to herself in a panic. It’s all real! How is this happening to me? It hadn’t taken her long to come up with a theory.

The pills.

She’d immediately run into the bathroom and flushed the pills Rob had given her down

the toilet. Then she’d spent almost forty minutes poking and prodding at her new tits, during which she’d learned:

a) They were definitely, definitely real, and

b) They were extremely sensitive.

After the fourth time she’d tugged on her nipples desperately trying to prove that they

were a figment of her imagination, or some kind of prosthetic, or anything that wasn’t a real pair of tits sitting on the front of her chest, she’d been unable to hold back a moan.

In her dream, every time Rob had even brushed a hand against her tits, she’d almost cum. Jackie had hoped that this was just a part of the fantasy, or the dream state, or whatever one could call it...but it seemed to be true in real life as well.

Damn it, she’d thought, stumbling back towards the bed. I am not going to be able to concentrate until this is taken care of...

Two quick orgasms later, Jackie was much more clear-headed. She carefully got dressed, making sure not to stimulate her ultra-sensitive tits any more than she had to. None of her bras fit, of course, and the only tops that she could get to close were an unattractive hoodie and a white button-up shirt.

She wore them both.

* * *

“Miss Night, I’m not sure what you want me to tell you,” the doctor said, looking at her quizzically.

“I want you to explain how I got to be like this,” Jackie said through gritted teeth, gesturing at her newly-protruding chest.

It never used to protrude.

“It’s perfectly natural,” he said, trying to maintain eye-contact. “All women go through growth spurts—it seems that yours has just happened later in life.” “Overnight?”

“Mmmm,” he said noncommittally. “No, but—if I’m being honest—it’s much more likely that this has been happening over several weeks, and you only noticed it today.”

“And the dreams?”

“I’m not a psychiatrist,” the older man said, finally failing at his attempts, and talking directly to her boobs. “But I would guess that you subconsciously noticed what was happening, and have been processing it while unconscious.”

“And...the pills?”

“Based on your description, they sound like normal sleeping pills. I can’t speak for your dreams, but I can assure you that I don’t know of any pills that can...what did you say they do? Control what you dream?”

“Yes,” Jackie muttered, defeated. She felt so stupid—everything that the doctor had said made total sense. She’d made a fool out of herself...and, worst of all, she’d flushed those great sleeping pills down the toilet.

She felt too embarrassed to even ask the doctor for a new prescription.

* * *

Jackie avoided Rob’s eyes all night at work. He had no idea what she’d suspected, how illogical it all was, but she still felt ashamed of herself. Fortunately, avoiding eye-contact was easy; he spent most of the night looking directly down her top.

Finally, she got home. Even without the pills, she fell straight into bed...and, to her surprise, into a completely dreamless sleep.

When she woke up the next morning, she felt good. Not great—there was no spring in her step, and she felt extremely sore—but certainly well-rested.

The soreness was more evenly spread around her body this time. Some was between her legs, a little was in her head...and a surprising amount was located on her upper back.

Playing with herself in the shower helped with some of the soreness, but as she stepped out and began drying herself, the feeling of the towel on the small of her back made her cry out with pain.

“What the...”

* * *

Rob still wasn’t making eye-contact, just staring at her tits as the small woman yelled at him.

“I don’t know how you’ve done it,” she shrieked, “but you are NOT going to get away with this!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied calmly, but the arrogant sneer on his face gave him away.

“Oh you son-of-a-bitch,” she said. “The tattoo! I know you’re the one behind it!” “What tattoo?” he asked, and there it was again—that slight gloating tone in his voice. Looking in the mirror that morning, Jackie had discovered the source of her pain—a

small tattoo, a tramp stamp.

It simply read “SLUT”.

Well, perhaps not “simply”. It read “SLUT”, with the last three letters spelled out in hard cocks, and the “S” a spurt of cum, shooting from the top of the L. It was unambiguous in its message, and Jackie hadn’t been able to stop crying since she saw it. Jackie had gone straight to the bar, found Rob’s contact details, and met him at home.

She wasn’t quite sure what she’d been expecting—she’d hoped he would confess, or inadvertently reveal how she could stop what he was doing to her.

Instead, he’d just smiled and stared down her top as she yelled at him, until eventually she’d run out of steam. He’d tilted his head to the side, daring her to continue, and so she’d stormed back home and packed her bag.

Jackie wasn’t sure how Rob was doing what he was doing, but she absolutely wasn’t going to take it—she called her mother (who lived on the other side of town) and told her that she was coming to stay for a few weeks, until she could sort this out.

* * *

“I’m sorry Jackie,” her mother said—although there wasn’t a millimeter of sympathy in her icy tone. “After what you did last night, you must know that I can’t have you stay here any longer.”

“But mom,” Jackie said, trying to stay calm, trying not to sound like a whining teenager, “Nothing happened last night! I slept the whole night through.”

In response, Jackie’s mother simply raised one eyebrow and looked firmly at Jackie’s ear.

The confused young woman reached up, and gasped with pain and shock at what she found. Her left ear was pierced—not just the lobe (which she’d had done when she was a teenager) but the auricle, the conch, the tragus and the helix as well.

Her entire ear was covered in metal. When Jackie raised her other hand, she wasn’t surprised to find that it had been done as well.

“Oh god...” Jackie whimpered, and her mother just scowled at her in response.

With nowhere else to go, Jackie quickly made her way back home. Looking at herself in the mirror, she discovered that her nose and eyebrow had also been pierced.

As soon as she sat down on the bed, Jackie’s phone buzzed. It was a text from an unknown number—it showed her laying on her mother’s bed with her legs spread, as two guys she didn’t know penetrated her.

The huge grin on Jackie’s face clearly conveyed what a good time she was having.

* * *

“Okay Rob,” she said “What do you want?”

Jackie had cried for close to twenty minutes after getting the photo. Then she’d accidentally brushed up against her sensitive nipple, and gotten turned on enough to get herself off a few times.

Then she’d cried again.

After she ran out of tears, the young bartender made her way to the bar. Rob had been waiting for her, that familiar leer on his face.

“Wrong question,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her tits through her shirt. She didn’t even have the energy to stop him...plus, she had to admit, it felt pretty good. “The question is—what do you want?”

“I want this to all go away,” she whispered. “I want everything to be like it was before... before it all happened.”

“Wrong answer,” he said, one hand moving up from her boob to grab her chin and tilt it towards him. “Think harder. What do you want?”

Jackie stared into her manager’s eyes, confused. There was a long silence as she processed what he’d said, during which he never stopped playing with her nipple. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter as he did, and with a gasp, the answer suddenly came to her.

“I want...I want to enjoy it. Like she did.”

“Like who did?”

Jackie shut her eyes with pleasure and pulled her phone out of her pocket. On the screen

was her nighttime self, sandwiched between two guys, being treated like a worthless slut... and clearly loving every minute of it.”

“Like her.”

There was a pause, and Rob’s eyes gleamed with pleasure as she put it together. “...like me.”

“Good girl,” he said, and Jackie obediently opened her mouth to swallow the two blue

pills he held in his hand.

Epilogue:

Jackie’s regular customers didn’t even recognize her. No one did. As far as the bar was concerned, the Jackie currently dancing on stage was a whole new person—a tattooed slut who’d moved to the city to become a dancer.

Piercings aside, her face hadn’t changed. But even when she was fully dressed (at least, as fully as Jackie dressed these days) no one looked at Jackie’s face.

They were either checking out her enormous rack, her new butt (another little gift from Rob) or—most commonly—the tattoos that covered every inch of her body.

Her arms had full sleeves—different characters from cartoons, innocent sweet and naive...pulling their pussy-lips apart, with the text “WRECK ME” in huge letters. Her thighs and calves were covered in ornate drawings of Jackie’s own face, being blasted with cum or with her tongue deep in pussy.

(Jackie had never so much as made out with another girl, but the image of her expertly going down on another woman made men hard, and that was all she cared about any more.)

As she stripped—which she did almost every night, now—she revealed more and more tattoos. “Cockwich” was printed on her flat stomach, with a figure of her being penetrated by three men simultaneously (in case anyone struggled to work out what it meant).

The small of her back was covered with her most “innocent” tattoo—from a distance, it looked like a fractal or some kind of mathematical pattern, but when you looked at it up- close, it turned into a collection of cocks, cunts, and people fucking in all positions.

But her favorite ink was written over her new, enormous tits. It simply read “Any time, any where” and had her phone number printed below it.

Ever since a photo of her stripping had gone wild, she’d gotten near-constant calls. It was almost peaceful, knowing that being treated like a slut was just a phone call away. She could answer it anytime and get dirty talk, insults, or an address that she could head to and be fucked until she couldn’t work.

Not that there was really a shortage at work—ever since Rob had given her the two blue pills, she’d been acting more and more provocatively at work. After taking a week off to get the majority of her tattoos off, she’d been delighted to return and find that Rob had turned the bar into a strip club...and made her the headlining act.

For a moment, a fragment of the old Jackie had resurfaced and wondered what had happened to the bar’s previous owner...but then she’d stepped out on-stage, wearing an exaggerated version of her old outfits, and all Jackie’s questions had been answered.

Since that night, Jackie had spent practically every night on-stage, stripping for the patrons and raking in the tips. Rob’s pills had expanded her bust, exaggerated the curves of her ass (which now had a “W” on each cheek—her set ended by her “WOW”ing the audience) and ensured that she had the stamina to keep up with her libido.

When she wasn’t stripping or making money for Rob, Jackie was fucking. All day, every day—if she was awake, she had a cock in her somewhere, and if she was asleep she often had two.

After getting her pussy-lips and nipples pierced, she’d had to be gentle for a while. It had been the hardest week of her life—okay, she could still take cocks in her ass and mouth, but her pussy ached to be filled.

“Never again,” she’d sworn. And sure enough, since that week she’d made sure to have

her pussy pumped full of cum by at least three or four guys a day...more, if Rob had a list of guys to be serviced.

She loved Rob’s lists. They always ensured such a variety of guys filling her up. Young, old, all different races...

Rob didn’t fuck her himself any more. Ever since he’d had to admonish her for trying to suck a customer off in the bar, she suspected that he looked at her differently—for the first few months, his cock had been in her almost as much as everyone else put together.

Nowadays, he seemed to enjoy himself more fucking his old boss, the club’s owner. He’d still occasionally get a blow-job from Jackie, but only if she begged him.

Still, Jackie couldn’t complain. All things considered, she basically had a perfect life. A job she loved, no shortage of friends, a fulfilling sex life.

And she never, ever had trouble sleeping.