The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Tell us the truth.”

Things had changed, so drastically, so quickly. Robert clenched up as he prepared to receive another blow, his arms each held apart by a pair of privates, exposing his midsection for a third to deliver the punches.

“I am telling the truth,” Robert insisted.

“Why was your daughter outside Quarantine?” One of the ranking officers had left, most likely to give a status update on the interrogation, and the remaining Lieutenant General sat casually in his chair, smoking a cigarette, the sleeves of his pressed military shirt rolled up, his jacket slung over the seat back.

Robert groaned as another punch sank into his stomach. “Told you... before...” he gasped. “Just needed money... trying to sell contraband...”

“Tell us about the cure. How do we cure the EV virus? Or inoculate against it?”

Another blow landed, this time to his face.

“You can beat me to death,” Robert said grimly, wincing in pain. “But it doesn’t change the facts.

“There is no cure.”

He spat out a mouthful of blood.

“Hit me again, why don’t you? Go ahead.”

“Go ahead,” Meghan said, panting heavily. She was covered in sweat, soaking through another skimpy nightie set. Derek was perspiring, too. They’d spent the morning heavily petting and dry humping each other, but Meghan felt frustrated, wanting more, needing more, and could no longer recall why they shouldn’t go a little further...

Earlier, she had stripped down and languidly looked herself over in the bathroom mirror, exploring every inch of her transformed body. She barely recognized her own face, the roundness of her extra weight gone from it, her eyes seemingly larger and clear blue, her nose less pointed somehow, her lips full and lush, pouty. Her golden blonde hair was long, voluminous.

Just seeing the exotic, flawless, lust filled face staring back at her was enough to turn Meghan on. She ran her hands over her toned shoulders, feeling her slim, taut biceps, then down to her own hips and back up her tiny waist, up to her huge, gravity defying tits. They were larger than any other of the girls’ at school, and sensitive, so sensitive. She shivered as she pinched her turgid nipples, then pushed her tits up and together, enthralled by the hot sluttiness of the look of them spilling out of her hands. One hand went down between her legs and Megan thrust her hips out lewdly, her long, fit thighs flexing, to give herself a better a view of her fingers sliding in and out of her dripping, golden snatch.

Somewhere inside, Meghan recognized that along with her body, her mind had somehow been seriously altered too, turned into practically a different person, but it was hard to care. This is what she had always wanted to be, a hottie that anyone would want to fuck. All of high school wasted, fretting over pimples, obsessing over the scale, feeling like shit every time she ate a slice of pizza, looking enviously at every busty cheerleader that turned heads as she walked by…

Well, those days were over. Now, she was a genuine knockout, a blonde bombshell hotter than any of the other sluts at school. Even her own brother wanted to fuck her. She felt so perverted taking pride in such a sick, dirty thought, which made her feel even hotter. It didn’t hurt either that Derek was such a total stud—his physique was almost completely recovered, slim but built. She had felt her pussy drooling in anticipation as she put her nightie back on and went to his bedroom, climbing onto his lap straddling him.

Even now, he was sucking on one of her hard nipples through the white fabric of her string tank top, which was almost completely transparent, soaking in his saliva.

Nasty, little slut, a voice inside of her said. This is totally sick. Your brother has your erect nipple in his mouth.

That’s right, her twisted mind answered. Derek loves sucking on my big titties.

Meghan arched her back, pressing her tits into his face. “Come on, Derek. Finger me…”

She pulled her panties to the side. But Derek wouldn’t do it. He was still resisting, and Meghan knew why. She knew that she was infected with whatever it was that was out there beyond the QZ. During one of their dry humping grind sessions, Megan had finally told Derk what had really happened to her outside of Quarantine and he in turn shared the vague high school rumours, lining up what he had heard with what she had seen with her own eyes. It was a virus. A virus that changed people’s bodies, transformed them into their physical peak. It also apparently made them horny as fuck.

Meghan had contracted the virus outside of Quarantine, and she had infected Derek with that kiss, the night she came home. His own exposure, responsible for his miraculous recovery, was about two days behind her own, and she seemed to have peaked sometime yesterday. Her tits had stopped growing, and she didn’t feel like any more of a horny little nympho today than she did the day before. Which meant that she could wait for the next two days or so for Derek to catch up, and if he was as hot and horny by then as she was now, there was no way he would be satisfied with just petting each other through their clothes, no matter how heavily.

Or she could just try and persuade him now. Two days was a long time, after all...

“We… we decided… not to touch…” Derek said between sucks, his voice muffled from her smothering rack.

“I know,” Meghan wheedled, stroking his cock through his shorts again.

“But I mean… what’s the harm…

“We’re practically touching already…”

Derek didn’t answer, absorbed in his task. He was massaging her giant melons as he sucked now, his pelvis thrusting toward her stroking hand. She decided to take matters into her own hands. Deftly, she pulled him out through the opening flap in his boxers.

“Hey..!” Derek yelled out, surprised, before she pulled him back into her tits again by the back of the head with her free hand, her hand on his cock keeping pace the whole time.

“There… doesn’t that feel better..?”

Derek let out a groan of apparent agreement, and she reveled in the power of her sway, her irresistible appeal. She knew exactly how it was—it just felt too good, the need too strong to fight against.

“Good… now stick your fingers in my pussy…”

Derek sat there, conflicted, too aroused to stop her from stroking him, but otherwise unwilling to escalate things further. Megan impatiently grabbed one of his hands with her free one and guided it to her slick crotch.

Pressing his hand against her wetness, she moaned as her hips automatically gyrated up and down, rubbing herself against him. Derek didn’t need any further convincing. He slid two thick, strong fingers up her snatch, pumping his hand between her widespread legs.

“Uggggggh yea…”, Meghan grunted, this escalated level of stimulation giving a new height of pleasure. “That’s good, get me off…”

“This… this isn’t right…”, Derek protested. He couldn’t stop himself, but he apparently had no problem talking about it.

That small diminishing part of Meghan’s old self agreed, but it was easily overridden.

“What’s wrong with it?” She gasped as Derek ground his thumb against her clit.

“Touching… you said, we shouldn’t touch…” Derek was pumping his pelvis back and forth into her soft closed fist.

“You touch yourself, don’t you,” Meghan asked. “What’s wrong if I touch you, instead?

“It’s just like holding hands.... It’s just skin touching skin... right...?”

It seemed to make so much sense to Meghan; she had always just automatically thought of it as wrong, but she when she really thought about it, she couldn’t actually think of a reason. Derek didn’t seem to be able to come up with any counter arguments either.

“I mean.. it’s not any different, right?” She began stroking him faster, starting to breathe harder, both due to the physical exertion, as well as Derek fingering her in increasing tempo.

“We’ve seen... each other... cum... right?” Meghan panted, her hips starting to pump up and down. “We masturbate in front of each other... right..?

Meagan could feel Derek’s cock twitch as she said it.

“We’ve made each other cum through our clothes...”

“Oh shit,” Derek groaned, helplessly humping Megan’s hand. “No... No...”

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like we’ve never touched before... It’s like holding hands... It’s like hugging. It’s just skin touching skin...“

Derek’s cock was burning hot, rock hard, getting ready to erupt. Meghan slammed her fist up and down, eager to get him off, pumping her own hips excitedly against his hand in turn.

“Come on, Derek,” she moaned. “It’s ok... It’s just touching... just until we both cum like we need to...

“Don’t you need to..?

“I need to cum so bad...”

“Meghan, aw no,” Derek groaned, his face scrunched up, trying to hold back the inevitable.

“No...!”

The hot semen squirted out all over the bed in a series of strong spurts before spilling over Meghan’s fist, just as she climaxed as well, making obscene, debased noises as she rode Derek’s hand, her free hand going to up grab handfuls of her own ample bust, as she thrashed and writhed.

“Ohhhhhhhh..!

“Ohhhhh...

“Unnnnggh…

“Unnghh...

“Mmmm.... that was so hot, Derek,” Meghan husked, basking in the glow as she let go of his sticky, deflating member.

“Meghan,” Derek panted. “Come on... We... We gotta stop this...”

Meghan had her hand out in front of her, watching the sticky ejaculate ooze down her long, delicate fingers. She turned to look at him, her eyes innocently wide. “Stop what, big brother?

“It’s not like we’re having sex or anything...”

Derek’s brow creased as though trying to argue with that, but he didn’t seem to be able to find a way past that technicality.

“Sex,” Meghan said, her hand in the air, still inspecting it. ”That really would be wrong...

“But we’re not doing that... we’ve never done that...”

The rest of the day was spent touching and not having sex.