The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Transformation Run

This twist of a story was inspired by Sadie Thatcher

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Amanda walked out of her condo building as the sun was just barely high enough in the sky to light up everything. Taking a deep breath, she relished the crisp, clean air with just a hint of salt from the sea shore. She did a few stretches to get limber, made sure her smart watch was secure on her wrist, and then flipped a coin in her head to decide which way to go. “Looks like we’re going East today,” she thought.

Amanda then started out on her daily run as she tried to do every other day the weather permitted. Spring was finally turning toward summer, which meant the sun was out, the skies were blue, and, even though it was quite still, it was already beginning to warm up quite a bit.

She rounded the gentle curve the road provided, looking to her right to look at the clear blue sea below the heights before checking her smart watch. “One mile down already, gotta keep the pace.” She then turned up the music in her airpods, playing one of her favorite running playlists, and the chorus to the Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shelter” swelled, seemingly giving her legs a charge in real time.

Amanda huffed steadily, lifting the tee-shirt she was wearing, one she picked up from a local soccer tournament she refereed the month prior, to dab some sweat from her face, exposing her simple black sports bra underneath. She shook out her hands, and wiped them on her utilitarian black gym shorts, and her matching black on black Nike’s bounced off the asphalt in time with the music in her ears.

She reached behind her to grab the bottle she was carrying with her, and took a big sip of the new energy drink she was told to try out by a friend of hers: Be alive Intense Moxie Boost Organics, or BIMBO as people were jokingly calling it.

It was supposed to be a real energy booster, and the golden liquid almost looked like it was glowing. It was incredibly yummy and refreshing, so it was easy to practically finish the bottle in one go.

“Misery Business,” by Paramore. “Three miles down.”

The thing about Amanda was that she was already smoking hot. The 5′5″ Dominican beauty was fit as can be. As a former soccer player herself, she was proud of the fact that she had retained her trim athletic shape well into her post-playing life. It didn’t matter to her if her boobs were a bit small, or if her booty wasn’t really that big, she was nice and tight everywhere, still had nice hips, and it was topped by an adorable face that made her a dead ringer for Olivia Munn. She was still young by any reasonable measure, too.

While there was always a part of her, deep down, that relished in being able to turn a man’s, or woman’s for that matter, head—something she did regularly—the truth is, because she never really had to, Amanda simply was never one to worry much about her appearance, and that was especially true when she was engaged in an athletic endeavor.

But she knew as well as anyone how time waits for no athlete, and though she still had plenty of youth on her side, and despite the fact she looked ten years younger than her age, she had started to notice her performance as a referee was beginning to slip, and that was simply unacceptable for someone as competitive and driven as she was.

Keeping up with these young soccer players was the only thing on her mind as she put in the miles. The only way she was going to be able to keep refereeing was to be able to match their pace, stamina, and endurance on the pitch.

Mile 6. “Toxic,” by Britney Spears. “Take another sip.”

Amanda kept a steady pace, nothing too strenuous for her at all, just keeping up with Britney’s beat. She was coming off a hard workout the day before, so she just wanted to work out the kinks in her body from the previous day. In any event, it was more about building and maintaining endurance rather than looking to gain speed or strength.

As Amanda felt her body sliding into sync, her breathing matching her comfortable strides, she was tapping deeper and deeper into the proverbial “Zone” that athletes often speak of. That space between consciousness and the unconscious. The world around her started to fade away, the only thing existing in the universe was her, the music, and keeping the pace of her run.

It was all so perfect. She would have no idea what magic was about to fall upon her and alter her life forever.

The first obvious sign that something was changing was Amanda’s tee-shirt. It began to tighten around her body, becoming more fitted and stretchy. Amanda, lost in the now hypnotic rhythms of her breathing, her music, the sounds of her feet along the road, noticed nothing.

Mile eight. “California Gurls,” by Katy Perry

Amanda’s shirt kept shrinking, and the hemline rose showing a taut midriff, revealing a white gold belly-button piercing, glinting in the morning sun like the dewy beads of sweat clinging to her drum-tight stomach. “Huh, I don’t remember getting that…” she thought to herself when she looked down, but then, she also couldn’t remember having to look past so much boob flesh just to see her own tummy either.

Never having been big enough to warrant needing to wear a second sports bra, let alone a pink and purple one, when she exercised, Amanda’s breasts kept growing with little resistance. Now they were bulging out and really bouncing, pushing at flimsy fabric containing them to the point that they began to spill out over the top, tits desperate for escape and freedom.

“I Touch Myself,” by the Divynls. Mile ten.

“Ooh, I like this one!,” she almost purred, feeling an intoxicating and enticing tingle travel down her spine.

Like with her tee-shirt, her shorts began to tighten, changing from loose fabric to a clingy pink spandex booty short, hugging her plump ass and shapely hips tightly. Now no curve was hidden from view. Big and round ass cheeks pushed back against the spandex, her plump cheeks pouring out slightly from the bottom. It was indeed a very cute, curvaceous bubble butt, perfectly counterbalancing her bountiful bosom.

“Barbie Girl,” by Aqua.. Mile twelve.

What had started as a long distance endurance run, an easy pace to get ready to referee the next day’s soccer match, had become a chance to show off her body for Amanda. Her stride, once smooth and silky, had become more of a bouncy prance; something designed to maximize being seen with little thought of the actual exercise benefit.

Mandy turned the corner and positively romped into the homestretch. Her shoes had changed from her plain, functional running shoes to a stylish bright pink and purple pair. Her once strawberry blonde hair tied back in a simple ponytail had become fiery red pigtails that bounced playfully along with her every step.

As soon as Mandy finished her run, she immediately checked her reflection in the side view mirror of a nearby parked car, wanting to make sure her makeup was still perfect. Of course it was. She never worked hard enough on a run to break a sweat, but that was fine with Mandy. It was, like, totally more important she didn’t ruin her makeup. What if someone, like, saw her? A cheerleader always had to look good, especially with such a big game tomorrow where people would see her cheer.

Mandy liked to “run” for two reasons. She got to show off her hot bimbo body, and it warmed her up for her second favorite exercise activity, which of course was yoga! How else was she supposed to stay limber for the even more enjoyable sexcapades she got up to every night?

She skipped into her bright condo and promptly set up her living room for some yoga by moving aside her cute little coffee table back toward the couch and unrolling her mat.

Normally she wouldn’t take any sort of break and get right into some stretches, but this time Mandy disappeared into her room for a few minutes. She emerged only when the wardrobe change was complete: A skin tight lavender bodysuit with a thong in the back, with matching leg warmers and headband to look extra cute.

She carried her laptop with her into her living room and set it up carefully on her coffee table, double checking to make sure her camera was working and angled in a way that would keep her in the center of the frame while she stretched.

It only took a few more moments for Mandy to set up an account with the widely popular Cam Girl site she’d seen advertised all over the internet. Soon, she’d be broadcasting her full yoga routine to a room full of men who would love watching her stretch and show off that crazy bubble ass and torrential cleavage in a myriad of poses.

With a giddy squeak, Mandy hopped over to her mat and got herself in position. Pausing, she sucked on the tip of a finger, obviously trying to think and remember something, but it could be so hard. Then, she remembered something! She called out to her bluetooth voice with a lascivious grin:

“Alexa, play ‘W.A.P.,’ by Megan Thee Stallion, please!”