Transformative Properties: 9 Food of the Gods, inc.

Disclaimer: This story is intended for adults only (18+). It contains sexual themes and mind control, which are not intended for everyone. If you don’t like seeing people altered in sexual and biological ways, please feel free to view other postings on this blog. Also, please review the information in the About section of this blog.

Author’s Note: The title of this story is a homage to the HG Wells story “Food of the Gods and How it Came to Earth,” and by extension, a Greek myth pertaining to what happens when a Human eats or drinks the food of the Gods. Hope you’re hungry!


Transformative Properties: 9 Food of the Gods, inc.


Synopsis: A private detective investigates a very popular candy company.


Working for a private detective agency was a different kind of work. I received my masters in Criminal Justice, and eventually joined the Jackson and Fredricks Private Detective Agency. I interned with them while I was still in both undergraduate and graduate school, and they offered me a job after I graduated. In the end, I found that I had mixed feelings about working for them. Being a rather attractive, auburn haired woman ensured that I could use my body to get the information I needed. Cliched? Perhaps. Though I did hit forty recently, extensive pilates and healthily eating habits kept me looking thirty. Regardless, I did enjoy deceiving others …




My current assignment involved infiltration of the candy company “Food of the Gods.” It was borderline corporate espionage, but I was assured that, while the information was to go to our client (Johnny’s Sweets), any possible illegal activities would be brought to the authorities. I must admit that I didn’t care that much, because the recent recession caused business to drop. Clients ensure that I would have a job!

I was posing as secretary “Nikki Brown” (different last name than mine) for a dimwitted, low level executive. I easily convinced him that there was no reason for a background check, and that all he needed to do was call my references. For the first few days, I didn’t uncover anything significant. Jackson threw two others on the case, but I had no contact with them.

About a week in, things started get strange. I was randomly transferred to the high level executive Farrah Gramms. I was no lesbian, but she was rather attractive: flawless milk white skin, natural blonde hair, healthily full body, sweet smelling. If I were back in college, I would have seen her as worthy of an “experiment” or two.

“So, I think we should get to know each other, Nikki,” she said across her desk

“Oh, there’s not much to tell. I stumbled around in college for a while, having too much fun. I really just fell into ‘Administrative Assistant’.”

“If you don’t mind me noticing, Nikki, you have very dark skin …”

“Oh, yeah,” I interrupted, telling the truth. “My mother’s family is from Brazil. My skin darkens like crazy during the summer! This being San Francisco, late August, I’m all but African American!”

Farrah laughed. “I’m sure you get compliments!”

“I’m sure you do, too!” I quipped, calculatedly assuming that she had a good sense of humor. I sensed she was a touch narcissistic as well.

She laughed. “Do you mind having lunch with me, Nikki? You know, to keep this conversation going.”


We walked to the executive meal area. The lower half of the wall had dark chocolate colored wood paneling, while the upper half was a creamy stucco. The tables and chairs were all finished teak, which resembled peanut butter. A short order chef lived behind the marble counter. No one else was in the meal area. Farrah ordered me the “Special,” while she ordered a light, chicken salad sandwich. We sat down.

We made small talk before our meals came. I was shocked at what the “Special” was! It was three chocolate balls of a color that closely resembled my present skin tone.

“This is kind of our way of hazing new hires. We have Rob over there whip of some nice chocolate for you,” she said with an odd smile.

“Oh,” I said with a smile. Shrugging, I ate the decadent balls. To my surprise, they were the most delicious things I ever tasted! They were very rich and smooth in flavor, reflecting the chocolate’s tone. There was a quality to the milk chocolate that I couldn’t figure out, but it certainly added to the ecstasy. They were so good that time seemed to slow. They took away all my cares in the world. It was, quite simply, the best, most perfect chocolate I ever had.




I felt truly amazing for the rest of the day. ‘What the fuck was in that chocolate!’ I kept thinking. When I got back to my apartment, I had a quick shower, and started my usual pilates. And, I did it with more zeal than when I was eighteen! In fact, I felt like I was eighteen. In my surprisingly revived, youthful vigor, I found myself capable of moves I could not do for years. When I was done, I felt truly remarkable.

After my pilates, I was walking to the shower, when I caught my refection in my tall bedroom mirror. “Impossible!” I said. Not only did I feel younger, I actually looked younger! My body was tighter, breasts firmer. My hands and feet were no longer spidery and veiny, but smooth and sexy. I looked at myself for a long time.

When I was younger, I was a rather narcissistic, nymphomaniac party girl. There was no man or woman who could satisfy me fully, and the only one who could satisfy me was myself. I nearly failed undergraduate school because of all that, and only got into graduate school with the help of Jackson and Fredricks. It took me nearly failing college to realize that I needed to learn how to control myself. For the longest time, I thought I had control over my overactive sex drive, but that control was now melting away.

My heart was racing; my crotch was dripping. “Fuck it!” I screamed. I pealed off my sweat soaked, spandex clothes. The more I gave into to my impossibly rejuvenated body, the more the weight of twenty-two years lifted. My hand slid over my wet snatch, and rubbed with great passion. I hadn’t made love and lust to myself in more than ten years, but it felt like only yesterday! I soon found myself in what was once my favorite position: squatted, with one hand free to explore my body, and the other passionately fingering my crotch. The more I loved and lusted, the less I remembered the last twenty-two years, and all the control I gained over myself. When I finally squirt in a screaming orgasm, I was truly eighteen again …

It was strange, I must admit. Even though I should have had no memory of where I was, I knew I was home. ‘What was I just doing, Nikki? Out of breath, sweat pouring. Oh, yeah! I was fucking myself,’ I thought. ‘When’s that next party gonna be? … I’ll just check my calendar later.’

Since I obviously did not remember doing my pilates earlier, I started a new session. The way I did pilates at eighteen was rather crazy: It was highly experimental, and to the extreme. I always did it in front of the mirror, too. If I felt any discomfort, I just rubbed my crotch to release those endorphins. Needless to say, it was very erotic!

It didn’t take very long for my face to get close to my feet. I quickly noticed that they had a sent that I didn’t recognize. My feet normally did not have much of a sent. Now however, They smelt like a very milky milk chocolate, which I could not recognize at the time. I sat up with my feet in front of me, and picked up my right, fascinated. I inhaled its sent deeply. It smelled so good that my mouth watered. I uncontrollably began to lick and suck every inch of that foot. The flavor was decadently erotic. I could remember tasting nothing better.

Surprisingly, it crossed my mind to actually eat my foot, but I of course decided against it. I wouldn’t be able to taste my feet again if I did! Instead, I began to eat food off my feet: chocolate, bananas, everything. Just smelling my feet made me so hungry and horny. I eventually decided to always eat my food either off my feet, or after I thoroughly rubbed my feet in it. That was to force me to wash me feet as much as my hands, but I did not mind. It was an odd way to gain a foot fetish. I should have questioned this decadent fetish, but I was too much of a horny, pleasure addicted nympho to care. I went to bed that night feeling like perfection…




My alarm went off at seven in the morning. I was confused. It being Friday, I always ensured that I didn’t need to get up that early. Twenty-two years worth of memories slowly came back into focus. I walked out of bed naked and confused. I looked at myself in the mirror. I still looked and felt eighteen! It was beyond strange to have the sharp mind of an eighteen year old, yet have forty years worth of memories.

I sat on the edge of my bed. It didn’t take long to realize that the control I had over myself was a mix of maturity and physical age. Technically, I regained that “maturity,” when all my memories returned, but I had the body and soul of my eighteen year old self. Much of whatever control I gained over the last twenty years was gone. That twenty years worth of wisdom was going to be the only thing that would keep me from dry humping the next attractive thing I saw.

For a while, I sat analytically going over what happened to me. I forgot how sharp my mind was! Those chocolate balls I ate yesterday tasted just like my feet last night, except that my feet were undoubtedly even better! There was obviously something here, and I intended to immediately discuss with my white chocolate boss. I then wondered if she tasted like a decadent white chocolate, and how that would enhance fucking her. ‘Control! Control!’ I thought.

My cell phone suddenly rang, I answered, “Hello.”

“Nikki Smith, it’s Jackson, you forgot to check in last night.”

“Oh, sorry, Jackson. Would you like me to report now?”

“Of course.”

“They transferred me to executive Farrah Gramms. Not sure why yet. I don’t think my cover’s blown. I think I may be able to get more information from her than the other guy. But, that’s just a hunch,” I stated intentionally not mentioning my tasty rejuvenation.

“All right. Keep at it … You must be enjoying this job, Nikki. You haven’t sounded so lively in a long time.”

“Hmm, probably just a good night sleep talking!” I teased.

“Well, don’t forget to report in next week, Nikki. Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up.

Having so little control over myself, I came three times in the shower (decadent foot in drooling mouth). Showing some wisdom, I did not get dressed for breakfast. I merely wore my flip flops to keep my feet clean. I ate like I vowed to eat for the rest of my life. I soaked my feet into my cereal, and slurped the milk and corn flakes off my feet. I lay on the table to do it more easily. It was erotic, fun, and delicious all at the same time. It was sad that I could never get away with eating like this in public. After eating a banana and after giving it a foot job, I slipped back into my flip flops, and laid out everything for a sandwich. I placed everything, including myself, onto the table. Nimbly, I used my feet to put it all together. It was such a joy to lick my feet clean after!

After I washed my feet, I slipped back into my flip flops, and went back into my bedroom. Like I used to, I watched myself get dressed. ‘I’m eighteen 2.0. I’m better than I was. Tasty feet, knowledgable eyes. I’m so perfect,’ I thought, while deeply aroused.

At Food of the Gods, I immediately confronted Farrah. “How did you do this to me!?”

Farrah smiled diabolically. “Oh, I did nothing. You’re the one who ate the special chocolate. We found out who you really were, and in the process, we learned that you were perfect for us. The chocolate you ate was specially made for you. It was merely a test to see how responsive you were to its special properties. It all went better than we could have hoped for, albeit in ways we did not expect!”

I sat in front of Farrah’s desk in shock. Though, most of the shock came out of how she suggested she knew about the crazy erotic stuff I did with myself at home.

Farrah picked up a larger chocolate ball, which was my exact skin tone. “All women here like me represent a special blend of chocolate. I am ‘Golden White.’ Through us, they create the most delectably addictive chocolates. Eat this ball, and become something better, and have billions know your flavor!”

She knew how to push my buttons! To be even better, and have billions know that, was beyond temptation. All cares of my prior life melted away far faster than they should have. The again, my impulsive nature was not controllable then. I took the ball from her hand with my toes, and rolled it in between my high arches until it melted onto my soles. I then licked the smooth flavored chocolate off my indulgent feet. Every lick, every swallow brought me closer to being one with it. Gorged, I fell to the floor feeling my body transform into something truly delectable.

“Rise, Delectable Brazilian!” a strong feminine voice ordered.

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