The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Iris took the direct approach when confronting Dani about her role in my transformation. “Why did you give my girlfriend a piercing that transforms her into a cow?!” she yelled as soon as we walked into the parlor.

Dani looked completely bewildered at first, and as the questions and accusations spilled out, her expression gradually changed to something between amusement and irritation. “That’s pretty much the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” she scoffed. “But whatever drugs you two are on, hook me up!”

Iris and I retreated to a far corner of the shop and held a whispered conversation. “Do you think she’s lying?” my girlfriend asked. “You know her better than I do.”

While that was true, it wasn’t like Dani and I were close friends, despite my occasional attempts at insinuating myself into her social circle. Still, I believed I knew her well enough to reply, “I think she’s telling the truth about not doing it, or at least, not on purpose. She probably couldn’t resist bragging about it, if she had that kind of power.”

“That was my impression, too,” Iris said, taking a quick glance in Dani’s direction. “So maybe the magic is in the rings themselves,” she mused, getting a far-away look in her eyes. Snapping back to the here-and-now, she added, “Honestly, it’s probably for the best if she’s not responsible. If she was, we probably couldn’t trust her to deal fairly with us, since it would mean she wanted you to be a cow.”

I felt a flicker of amusement and gave Iris a wan smile, saying, “Does that mean I can’t trust you, since you want me to be a cow, too?”

“Oh, Tay!” she said, hugging me reflexively. “You know that’s not the same! Yeah, it turns me on, but I love you just the way you are!”

We whispered a little while longer, because Iris was determined to get the other ring installed in her nose, and I was trying to talk her out of it. She was adamant, though, and I acquiesced to her determination. It made me wonder if the ring had any other effects aside from the physical metamorphosis, as I thought it was out of character for me to surrender like that. Still, I figured I might be experiencing some kind of post-traumatic stress or the like, and Iris was rarely so dead-set on anything, so perhaps it could be chalked up to unusual circumstances.

“If you still have the gold ring for sale, I’d like to get it in my septum, please!” Iris announced as we walked back to the counter.

“Okay, but just so we’re clear, the shop is not responsible, whether you turn into a cow or anything else!” Dani said, struggling to contain her laughter.

“Mine seems to be healing really quickly, too,” Iris said, trying to shine the light from her phone up her nose as she stared at her new piercing. I can’t say I was particularly excited by the idea of her turning into a cow, but the contrast of the nose ring with her otherwise girly-girl persona was getting me kind of hot. “Hopefully that means it’s magical, too!”

We left my tiny bathroom and Iris immediately began pacing around the loft restlessly, frequently checking herself for signs of imminent transformation. I was nervous, too, but feeling kind of shaky, so I sat on the couch and watched her as she almost bounced back and forth.

“How long did it take for you to feel the effects?” Iris asked suddenly, distracting me from my fugue.

I frowned, thinking back to the previous evening. “Well, it was the middle of the night before I started showing any real changes,” I said slowly. “I was maybe feeling a little off earlier in the evening, what with the mooing.” I blushed again just ing the embarrassing episode, although it aroused me as well. “I guess the first stage is mental, or maybe behavioral,” I finally concluded.

“I guess that makes sense,” Iris said, once again checking her cute little belly for teats. “I should probably strip,” she announced, quickly removing her shirt and bra and tossing them aside carelessly.

“I’ll never object to having you naked,” I said apologetically as I lurched unsteadily to my feet, “But at least let me close the curtains!”

Iris froze with a comically surprised look on her face, her jeans and panties already down to her knees. She let out an adorable squeak of shame and tried to cover her breasts with her upper arms, but only managed to squeeze them into greater prominence in her bent-over posture. She blushed crimson and tried to hobble behind the couch but tripped on her pants, sprawling on the ground. I couldn’t help but laugh as I ponderously made my way around the loft, making sure no one could see inside.

Once I had ensured our privacy, I noticed that Iris had kicked herself free from the entrapping clothes. I gathered the discarded garments and tossed them in a chair, peeking over the back of the sofa to see my naked girlfriend on her hands and knees. “You can get up now,” I teased. “The show’s over for the neighbors.”

“Actually, I think I might stay down here a while,” Iris said. “Maybe it’ll make the change happen faster if I act more cow-like.”

“Suit yourself,” I said, restraining a snort of disbelief with difficulty. “Maybe we should feed you, though. I was ravenous when I woke up, just before the major changes started.”

“Ooh, great idea!” Iris exclaimed, crawling toward the fridge and giving me a delightful view of her ass as she did so, and even a few glimpses at her shiny sex. I was a little surprised to see her so obviously aroused, but I guess I shouldn’t have been.

Seeing that my girlfriend went immediately to the crisper for greens made me smirk slightly, and I could smell the bag of salad she opened even from across the room. It made me salivate hungrily, reminding me that I’d barely eaten anything all day. “Save some for me,” I said, although the last word turned into a shriek when I collapsed after only a few steps.

“What’s wrong?!” Iris asked as she scurried over to me, still clutching the bag. “Did you trip?”

“I feel weak and dizzy,” I said, noticing that my vision seemed blurry. “I think maybe it’s just low blood sugar?”

“Well, you go ahead and finish this one off,” Iris replied, pressing the bag into my hand. “I’ll get something else.”

I did feel better after eating, but even simply sitting up against the back of the couch made my head reel once again, and there was an inexplicable pain in my nose, right where the new hole in my septum was located. That realization made my hand start moving, apparently of its own volition. It went into my pocket and pulled out my nose ring. Iris watched with confusion as I placed the jewelry back into my piercing.

The effect was much more dramatic than last time. I could immediately feel my breasts swelling, and a churning in my gut told me that the udder wasn’t truly as gone as I’d hoped. My vigor had returned, at least, and I frantically started stripping. Iris helped, pulling off my pants and panties in one strong tug. “Oh, my goodness!” she exclaimed, watching raptly as my metamorphosis surged.

In the span of only a few minutes I was back to looking and feeling as much like a cow as I had been when the ring was first removed. I was disoriented and having trouble concentrating on anything; while the experience had once again stopped just shy of being painful, it was still unpleasant and vaguely nauseating. The first thing I was clearly aware of was Iris tugging and suckling on my teats.

Apparently unable to resist the temptation, my girlfriend had reached out with both hands to grasp my lower pair of dugs, squeezing and pumping them as she fellated the upper pair, bouncing back and forth between the giant nipples and moaning lustily. I tried to tell her to stop, noticing that her ears were getting fuzzier and longer, but I could only moo with pleasure. Iris’s own sounds got progressively deeper and more cow-like as she swallowed the milk she was draining from me. I could feel more being sprayed lower down, and some of it ran over my sex to puddle on the floor.

“I can feel it happening!” Iris suddenly moaned, releasing my teat and letting milk dribble out of her mouth. Her hands traced her own breasts, already noticeably larger than before, then sensually moved down to stroke and pinch the little bumps that presumably preceded the growth of her udder. I shivered, torn between lust and fear, worried that our transformations might continue past a point of no return.

My girlfriend appeared to be too lost in the euphoria of having her dream fulfilled to pay heed to warnings, either from me or any good sense that might have been rattling around in her brain. All other things being equal, I didn’t think I’d ever met anyone whose happiness was more radiant and enveloping than Iris, and the joy emanating from her was almost palpable. I couldn’t help but respond with love and affection, so I reached out to stroke her emerging teats.

“Oh, yes, Tay!” she lowed breathlessly. “Milk me, please! I need it so bad!” I assumed she was referring to an emotional need rather than a physical one, as her organ was only about half the size of mine, but I was powerless to resist her plea. I adopted her own method, tugging alternately on her lower dugs while kissing and sucking on the upper ones.

It took a minute or two for Iris’s milk to let down, but when it did, my own moans blended with hers and echoed around the loft, until it sounded like there was a whole herd of cattle corralled in my apartment. I simply couldn’t help myself, though; her milk surprised me with its heat and sweetness, so unlike what I was used to, and I couldn’t get enough. If my own was anywhere near as delicious, I could suddenly understand why she was happy for me to transform again.

I eventually realized that I was wasting her creamy treasure by spilling it on the floor, and when I pulled back, I noticed that her pussy was coated with a thin sheen of it, as my own must be. I made a futile attempt to moo an explanation of my desires, but quickly abandoned that and simply acted, pushing her gently onto her back and turning until we were sixty-nining one another.

As much as we both were enjoying the act, I couldn’t ignore the pressure of Iris’s udder against my neck and breasts as I went down on her, nor the feeling of my own pressing down upon her. Both organs were leaking from the compression, but not a lot. I was also distracted by having a tail that was only under my conscious control when I concentrated. Left to its own devices, it swayed and twitched seemingly at random. Iris’s tail was partially visible from where I was positioned, but it was mostly trapped beneath her.

My girlfriend eventually tipped us over onto our sides, probably because she was getting a little squished by my weight, although I was relieved to see that my metamorphosis didn’t seem to be much worse than before. I still had hands, at least, and my face didn’t seem to be a muzzle.

“Fuck me! Please!” Iris bellowed, ponderously getting onto all fours. She wiggled her rump at me, waving her tail back and forth. “Mount me! Pound me!”

“Moo-ve to the bedroom,” I lowed, relieved that I could speak again, even if it sounded absurdly bovine. Iris crawled toward the corner of the loft with my bed, which wasn’t truly a separate room, and I followed her. It was difficult to get into my strap-on harness, especially with the udder dangling in the way, and she was practically frantic by the time I succeeded and plunged into her dripping folds.

There were few things I enjoyed more than fucking my girlfriend, and the clitoral stimulation from the inner nub of the dildo was only a small part of the pleasure. Iris was often loud and expressive when getting pounded, but her normal degree of vocality was as nothing compared to how she sounded being fucked like a cow.

“Moo! More! Oh fuck! Deeper! Harder! Moo! Oh, I love your dick, Tay!” A lot of her utterances were even less profound, and many struck me as gibberish, or else they were just really long moos. I loved to listen to it, though, and the encouragement drove me wild. I bellowed like a mad cow as I fucked her more and more roughly. My udder squashed painfully against her ass with every thrust, but it only made me hotter to see my warm milk leaking into her crack.

We both screamed in simultaneous rapture; I say screamed, but it was deep and bovine sounding nonetheless. My tits, which had not been stimulated much aside from an occasional self-grope while fucking Iris, sprayed milk when I came, in a dozen or more tiny streams and in as many different directions. My girlfriend slumped to the ground in front of me, and I dizzily laid myself down behind her, doing my best to be the big spoon despite the milky bag lodged between us.

“I just need a little nap now,” Iris said tiredly. “But that was amazing. I love you so much for helping make my dream come true.” I cuddled her more tightly, ignoring the slight pain of my compressing udder. Just before I drifted into my own post-coital recovery doze, I heard Iris say, “When I wake up, I want to ride you like a cow-girl.”

To my relief, we discovered that the rings didn’t do much worse than we’d seen. They only worked at night, and the main transformation stopped about where I’ve described. They worked every night, though, unless we weren’t wearing them, and the longest either of us could stand to be ring-free was about twelve hours. That meant it was entirely possible for us to indulge our cow-selves with fetishy sex often, and yet avoid any sitcom-esque accidental discoveries of our secret.

There were some long-term side effects that were a mixed bag, though, both behaviorally and physically. Whether we transformed or not, when the sun went down, we would start stripping unless we concentrated on staying dressed. It didn’t matter if we were at home or not; unless it was really cold, we wanted our skins to breathe. It led to an occasional embarrassing exposure for each of us, but it was a good incentive to spend more nights at home!

What we came to think of as our ‘human bodies’ experienced a certain amount of growth and transformation as well, mostly in our breasts. I don’t mind the permanently larger boobs, especially on Iris, but I resent needing a bra for , and often cause stares by ‘forgetting’ to wear one. Iris and I also have very fast-growing hair now. I had to abandon the punkish blunt bob I’d favored for years; we cow-girls let our locks grow thick and wild these days. We both used to trim and occasionally go bare downstairs, but now we only bother shaving our thicker bushes for special occasions. That applies to our pits and legs, too. When asked why we ‘let ourselves go’ in the body hair department, Iris just grins and says, “I wasn’t in the ‘mooed’ to shave.”