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The Submissive Temp Ch. 05

In Chapter Four, we found Dr. Taylor beginning a courtship, while Sally's breast lump biopsy is positive. Meanwhile she realizes her husband Mark is living a wild life with Singapore women, and she yields to temptation with the boys Maria traditionally "entertains." Due to the positive biopsy, Sally naturally assumes she has breast cancer. She is only 23. Such a diagnosis at her young age does not bode well. This is where we join the story.

******************

I was still crying when I woke up so I called into work to say that I could not go in due to illness. I was hung over anyway, and I dared not try the cocaine cure since I had to see Dr. Green at 2pm. That's when, I was sure, he was going to recommend a radical mastectomy, probably for both breasts. I didn't care if Angelina Jolie did it and seemed happy. My breasts were part of my identity, they were part of me. Besides, my legs are good, but my boobs are the biggest male attraction I have. Sometimes I think Mark married me for my boobs (and my pussy, of course, and what I did with it).

I spent the morning reading testimonials I had found on line of women who faced and lived through the traumas I knew Dr. Green was going to force me to face head on. "Let's talk, man to boob," I imagined him saying. I could not bear it. This was when I needed drugs! Alcohol, cigarettes, weed, whatever. I needed a crutch. I just dared not. I had to get through this on my own. Even my husband was in fucking Singapore. It was evening there. He was probably fucking some Asian tart while his beloved wife was crying her heart out. This sucked. This really sucked.

I suck too, I thought, and I giggled. Why just yesterday I sucked off all three of Miguel, Duane and Ravi. Especially Ravi. Maybe tonight I could suck off Jack? I hunted down my dildo which was still right where I had hidden it when I did not want Jack to see it. I took it out and decided to practice my deep throat skills. Well, why not? It gave me something to do besides crying and feeling sorry for myself. I wanted to be in tip top form for my date tonight with Jack.

I had the feeling the champagne was to celebrate the consummation of our budding affair, or in plain talk, our fucking. That's why Jack waited to tell me, and he's still waiting, hee, hee. Well I might as well get all the whoopee I can before my breasts go into recycling, right? Bad thought - now I'm crying again, dammit.

I removed my nightgown and lay naked on my bed. I began to fondle my boobs, gently caressing every square millimeter of them, squeezing them and enjoying them to the maximum amount possible. This memory of my boobs, original equipment on the defective model that is me, is going to have to last for the rest of my life.

As I lovingly caressed my boobs, every part of them, just like a man would do, my hands tended to focus on my nipples. I played with them, teased them by stroking the skin close to my nipples, and I began to get aroused. Then something unprecedented happened, to my great surprise! I felt it building, so in some sense it was not a surprise, but the idea that I could cum just from fingering my breasts and nipples was new to me. Yet I did. My orgasm was lovely.

I slipped the dildo inside me, since I was now good and wet, and it went in easily, all the way up to its plastic balls. I then repeated the loving I had earlier given my boobs, and sure enough the same thing happened a second time: Another orgasm! My goodness this was strange. Well, live and learn, I thought, and then I began to cry.

Finally, it was time to go the doctor's office. It was in the Columbia University Hospital, also known as New York Presbyterian Hospital, which is way uptown. I took the A train; it goes right to it. I got there an hour early and brought a novel to read with me. I must have read the same page twenty times. I was hopelessly nervous. They had a Kleenex box on the counter. They should have had a candy dish filled with Xanax!

Dr. Green was twenty minutes late. That's not too bad by doctor standards. He began banally enough. He had boxes of Kleenex all around his office. He'd done this before. Of course, he had.

"Thanks for coming up here," he said.

"Of course," I replied. My voice was shaking.

"Well Sally, as you know from the positive biopsy, you're sick," Dr. Green said, trying to sound gentle. There's no way to be gentle with that news, but if there were, Dr. Green would have found it.

"Yes," I said.

"You don't have cancer, however," he said.

"What? What do you mean? I have a lump, the biopsy is positive? Am I missing something?" I said, partially in shock, I think.

"Yes, that's all true. The biopsy is positive, but it's positive for something that's not cancer, I'm afraid," Dr. Green said.

"You're afraid? What on earth is worse than cancer?" I asked, somewhat rhetorically I thought.

"You're positive for a virus. It's not a good virus," he said.

"There are good viruses?" I asked. What did this mean? None of this made sense.

I braced myself for the 'you're going to lose both your breasts' speech. Instead he was just silent, as if he could not bring himself to say the next statement. So, I said it.

"Will I lose my both of my breasts, then?" There, I had said it. It was out there. I braced myself for the answer.

"No," he said.

"No?" I was incredulous. What does this mean? I could keep my breasts? Wait until I tell Angelina Jolie!

"It's true the virus is focused in your breasts. That's not unusual for women. We've found that breast removal does not help with the virulent strain you have. It may even be counterproductive. It's in your blood, and we need to attack it in your blood. This particular virus is virulent, and it's rare. I'm a specialist in this particular strain so I know what will happen," he said. "Most other doctors and labs would not even have found it. You have to specially test for it, you see."

I bit. "What will happen?"

"Sally, unless a miracle happens, you'll be dead in six months," he said. Now I understood why there were so many Kleenex boxes scattered about. I had not been prepared for that. Not at all.

"Dead? In six months?" I repeated what he had just said. Looking back, I think I was in shock.

"Or sooner. I'm afraid you're very unlucky, Sally," he said. "The virus attacks the amygdala, hippocampus and limbic lobe, and you experience it via an intense sexual drive. In around six months the virus will move its attack to the hypothalamus, which controls the autonomic nervous system. Once it does that, you will either die of a heart attack, or simply fail to breathe."

Dr. Green stopped talking, and I stayed silent, since I was dumbstruck. We just quietly sat there, staring at each other. Looking back, I guess I must have been in shock.

"You mentioned a miracle? Was that just a figure of speech, or...?" I said, unable to finish the sentence. My voice was catching.

"Here's the deal. First of all, you caught it as early as anyone. You must check your breasts every day. Good for you," he said.

"Good for my husband. Mark loves my boobs," I said.

"Where is Mark? He should be here with you," Dr. Green said.

"He has a new job, in Singapore. I haven't told him yet," I said.

"Singapore? That's far away. That's unfortunate," Dr. Green said.

"Yes, my boss Mr. Criens bought the hedge fund he works at, Small Variance, and sent him to Singapore so that he could have me to himself," I said. Hey, if I have only six months left to live, let's just put it all out there. Tell it like it is. No sugarcoating.

"I see. Well there is indeed a possibility for a miracle, but it's very risky," Dr. Green said. "There's an experimental drug in development. It has not been approved for general use, and it may never be. It has powerful side effects, you see."

"I don't care about the side effects," I said. "Do you mean with this drug I could beat the virus, keep my breasts, and not die?"

"If you're lucky, yes," Dr. Green said.

"If I were lucky, I wouldn't have this goddam virus!" I said, a bit too loud.

Dr. Green ignored my outburst. He continued, "The drug is in clinical trials down in Puerto Rico, and also in Ghana, but I know the CEO of the company. We go to the same church and sometimes we play tennis together. If you like, I can try to get you on the drug. The side effects can be severe. You'll have to follow some protocols. Your husband being far away in Singapore may be a benefit in one way in particular," he said.

"You're being mysterious about the side effects, Dr. Green. Lay it out there for me," I said.

"I don't have permission from the CEO yet to put you on the drug. You'll have to go on it as soon as we get permission. Every day counts. I'll need you to sign some forms, and then I'll fax them over to the CEO directly," he said.

"Let's assume for now we get permission to put you on the new meds. Here's what will happen. For the first week you'll take five pills a day, the second week four, the third week three a day, and then the fourth week you'll take one a day and continue until you are symptom free. You'll have to come here to the hospital once a week - without fail - for blood tests and more biopsies," Dr. Green said. He paused.

"That doesn't sound so bad," I said.

"Are you on birth control pills? You'll have to stop right away. They interfere with the new medicine," he said.

"I have an IUD. Birth control pills can cause cancer I've been told," I said, and when I saw the ironic smile on Dr. Green's face I realized how stupid that sounded given that I already had a terminal virus concentrated in my breasts.

"An IUD is fine. Now you have to have on your person at all times - no exceptions - at least a dozen condoms. More is better," he said. He sounded grave.

"But I have an IUD. I'm not going to get pregnant. I don't understand," I said.

"Your husband is in Singapore, but you said you are having an affair with your boss. I apologize but I need to ask this. How many sexual partners have you had in the last week?" he asked. "Be truthful, Sally."

You know it was strange. Since my wild freshman year, I had been a one man at a time kind of girl. Before Mr. Criens I had never strayed in my marriage, even if my husband Mark had, with Maria for just one example. Perhaps there were others? I had not strayed, though. But yesterday I had stupidly gotten drunk and I had sunk into a state of insatiable lust.

I swallowed. In the past week? There was Mr. Criens, of course, and also Miguel, Duane, and of course Ravi the Magnificent. There was also almost Dr. Jack Taylor who will probably seduce me this evening. What should I say?

"I've had four partners this past week and am likely to have a fifth tonight," I finally said.

"How many times did you have intercourse, actual intercourse, not hand jobs or oral sex?"

"In the last week?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

I thought about it. Twice with Mr. Criens, twice with both Miguel and Duane, and four times with The Magnificent Ravi.

"Ten," I said, looking at my feet.

"You're a healthy young woman and sexually active, I see," he said.

"I'm not healthy. I'm fatally ill!" I said. "I'm a slut. It's embarrassing, but there it is." I began to cry, and there was a Kleenex right at hand. How convenient!

"We've found that with this particular virus strain women lose control and become promiscuous. It's especially pronounced if they drink alcoholic beverages. Sally, you did not really have a choice. Your virus made you have sex. It will continue to do so. It controls the relevant parts of your brain. We don't know why, exactly, but it's universal. With this particular virus women have a sex drive on steroids, so to speak, and alcohol consumption brings it out in force," he said, and somehow, he said it all in a reassuring, gentle tone.

"Oh," I said. I thought about it. I had been loyal to Mark until I began to temp at the Criens Hedge Fund. I can blame it all on the virus! Well, I guess that's something. It doesn't explain my freshman year, however.

"You know, I was also a slut my last year of high school for around six months, and then also my freshman year of college for another six months. Whenever I got drunk it was any man handy, you know?"

"Did you always want to fuck them? I mean as opposed to oral sex or other forms of sex?" he asked.

"Yes. At the time, I ascribed it to the alcohol and a defective personality?" I said, sort of asking.

Dr. Green said, "We're not sure, but you may have had the virus in your system even then. It certainly sounds as if you did. The virus probably went into remission after your freshman year. We don't know why that happens, but we've seen that it does. We've noticed the connection between the virus, alcohol, and sexual intercourse before. It probably went dormant and something triggered it quite recently and it is wreaking havoc in your body right now."

Dr. Green continued, "Did you ever detect an aura?"

"A what?" I inelegantly asked.

"An aura. Something you noticed before you became all consumed with lust?"

"Well, there were the headaches. Everyone gets headaches, though," I said.

"Describe the headaches, please," the doctor said.

"Well, they didn't really hurt, they more just kinda felt strange," I said and Dr. Green nodded. So, I continued. "I'd get this tingling. It was kind of like an MSG headache, you know, the type you get from a Chinese restaurant sometimes, especially if you have the soup?" Dr. Green nodded again.

I continued, "Except it wasn't on the forehead like my MSG headaches are. It was at the back of my brain, and afterwards I wanted to go to bed with a guy. I wanted it bad."

"You're not the first woman to describe that aura. I think there's little question. You're not a slut, Sally. The disease made you do it, even in high school and in college," he said.

"Oh, Okay. Then why am I dying now, and not then?" I asked, quite reasonably, I thought.

"The virus goes through stages. You were probably in stage 1 and stage 2 those earlier times. Now you're in stage three, which leads to stage four. Stage Four is the fatal stage, when the virus attacks the hypothalamus," Dr. Green explained.

I began to bawl. I used the ever-handy Kleenex and Dr. Green just sat there, a sympathetic look on his face, waiting for me to pull myself together.

"Dr. Green, I don't want to die. I hope you can get me on the drug! I don't care about the side effects. But just out of curiosity, what are they?" I asked.

"Well, it's the usual list, but most people get none of these or only a few: Headaches, diarrhea, constipation, difficulty urinating, double vision, insomnia, nasal congestion, and heartburn. A few women reported hallucinating, too. The universal side effect however seems to be an overwhelming desire to copulate, especially when combined with alcohol," he said.

"You can say 'fuck' with me, Dr. Green. That's why I'll need to have condoms with me all the time?" I asked.

"Sally, you will want to, no in fact you'll need to, you will feel compelled to, fuck any man you see at random times when the virus surges and the medicine helps your body to attack it. The medicine plus the virus together will destroy your self-control. I'm talking strangers on the street. Women have taken strangers they met in Starbucks into the bathroom and fucked them. Other women have fucked strangers in elevators, in stairwells, basically anywhere some semblance of privacy is available. Without condoms you'd get an STD for sure. That's one of the reasons we need to test you every week. AIDS is out there, too. You'll just have to get the men to use condoms, unless the man is your husband or a lover you know well and trust," Dr. Green said.

"Random men on the street? Really? That's gross!" I said.

"Yes, that seems to be the universal reaction women have to this particular side effect. No marriage has survived it. It's good your husband is in Singapore. Keep him there while you're on this drug, is my advice," Dr. Green said.

"He's happy there. He's fucking Asian women, two at a time," I said.

"Sally, I know you're upset, but I'm sure that's not true," Dr. Green said.

"I saw the video," I said. "It's true."

"The video?" I had clearly surprised Dr. Green. Nevertheless, he recovered quickly, and mused, "I wonder..."

"What? What do you wonder?" I asked.

"Well, it's rare, but this virus has been thought to infect men too, and in them it gives them a strong sex drive, and the seminal fluid production to go with it. It's possible your husband has it, too," he said. "In men, though, it never seems to progress to the hypothalamus. They don't die from it, as the women do."

"It's contagious, then?" I asked.

"All viruses are contagious, Sally. That's how they propagate. This virus is not very contagious, and we don't really know how it's spread. The current leading theory is by swallowing a man's seminal fluid," he said.

"No, not with Mark. He would never do that," I said.

"Maybe you did it, unwittingly. If you ever had a threesome with him, you might have kissed him after oral sex with the other man? If the other man was infected with the virus, well, in men it loves to reside in the man's testicles, just as in women it haunts their breasts," Dr. Green said.

Dr. Green could tell by my face that we had indeed had an MMF threesome. It had been one of Mark's birthday presents to me, although at the time I had thought it was more of a present for Mark!

"Is Mark going to die, too?" I asked.

"Men seem to have the virus but not get fatally ill. So probably not," the doctor said.

"Listen, Sally, I'll call Dr. Taylor now that you've signed the form giving me permission to do so, and I'll see if I can get the meds for you."

"Dr. Jack Taylor? CEO of Genomeds?" I asked.

"Why yes. Do you know him by chance?" Dr. Green asked.

"I have a date with him tonight. With luck, my weekly total of men I've fucked will go from four to five. He has the hots for me, to put it crudely," I said.

"I can understand that. You're a most attractive woman," Dr. Green said.

"Thank you. Stay away from me then once I'm on those drugs. I already want to take you to bed, Dr. Green. I have a thing for older men," I said.

"That's flattering, Sally, but it's the virus talking, not you. Besides, it's unethical. I'm sexually active, but never with patients. I make no exceptions," he said.

"Good to know," I said.

"I'll call you as soon as I hear from Dr. Taylor. We need to start you on these meds as soon as possible. Every day matters."

"If I may ask, what's the name of this medicine?" I asked.

"It's unnamed as of yet, but it's working title is Rivonine," Dr. Green said. That was the exact drug Mr. Criens wanted to me to find out about!

"Okay, thanks. What happens if Dr. Taylor says no?" I asked.

"Since you already know him and are dating him, I'm optimistic he'll say yes, Sally," Dr. Green said.

"But if he says no, what are the other options for me?" I asked.

"Sadly, there aren't any other options," Dr. Green said.

"No other options? So if Dr. Taylor, Jack, says no, what happens?" I asked.

"You die, Sally," he said.

*********

I went home disconsolate. Six months to live? My last six months to live I'd be hopelessly driven to be a slut? It could be worse, right? I could slowly deteriorate and be in horrible pain and all alone, right? As for becoming a slut, I thought about my freshman year in college, the last time this virus had attacked my brain.

I got the tingling in my brain around the third week of classes. By the fourth week of classes I needed to have sex, and I needed it bad! No boy had yet shown any interest in me, and I was in despair. I heard that there was a big party at one of the sleazier fraternities on campus that Saturday night. I tried to go with a friend, but the reputation of the fraternity was such that no other girl would go with me.
I put on my push up bra, wore a V cut T shirt and Daisy Dukes shorts, and went over around 8:30PM. It was way too early, and the party had not even started yet. I mingled with a few girls whose boyfriends were in the fraternity. They took me upstairs and the four of us corralled four guys. We went to an upstairs lounge and played truth or dare.

The questions early on were harmless enough. At one point when I opted for truth a guy asked me if I had ever cheated. "You mean on a test? No, I've never done that."

"I meant on a boyfriend," he said, and I blushed.

"No," I said. Seeing the disappointment in his face, I elaborated, "I've never had a boyfriend."

"Are you a virgin?"

"No, not even close. I guess I'm just a one-night stand kind of girl," I said. Actually, at that point, I had only had sex with much older men, thanks to My parents' neighbor Mr. Glassman. I think it was right then that I had the word Target emblazoned on my forehead.

As the alcohol flowed, we all began to choose dare. My first dare was to kiss the guy next to me, whose name was Mike. I kissed Mike as if my life depended on it, and I'm pretty sure he was hard at the end of the kiss. "Wow," he softly said.

Mike was dared to remove my T shirt. They should have asked me first, I guess, but even though there were six other people in the room, I raised my arms to help him remove my T shirt. Mary was dared to kiss me. I had never before kissed a girl, but hell, this as college, and what is college for if not experimentation? I gave Mary a kiss to rival the one I had given Mike.

They were ganging up on me, the new girl. I didn't mind.

At this point I was by far the center of attention, at least for the four men. Three of them had their girlfriends in the room, so I was focusing on Steve, the single guy. He was a sophomore. When it once again came around to my turn, I chose dare, and Steve dared me to strip to my panties. I smiled, and in front of the seven of them sitting there, I removed my Daisy Dukes, and my bra.

My panties were pink, with a bow in the front, and Mary, the girl I had kissed, complemented me on them. "Thanks," I said. "They were a gift from my brother." I left that to hang in the air. In truth, my brother had given me a gift card for the mall, and I used it to buy the panties. This was not the conclusion my fellow students came to, however. I was having fun.

The men were staring at my boobs. You'd think they'd never seen a girl's breasts before! I didn't realize at that young age just how gorgeous my boobs actually were. My old lovers had told me that, of course, but I always ascribed it to flattery as part of their attempts to get into my panties, and it seemed to work, since their success rate had been one hundred percent.

At this point the other girls too were dared to lose clothes, and soon Mary was down to her panties, while Sue and Louise were each topless. It looked as if we were headed towards an orgy. I turned to Steve: "Do you live here?" I asked. Steve nodded. "Take me to your bedroom," I ordered him.

Steve led me to his bedroom, with Mary and John following close behind. We all crowded in. I told Steve to strip, and still wearing only my pink panties, I crawled up on the bed and over to his cock and began one of my patent pending blowjobs.

As I sucked off Steve, Mary pulled my panties down and off, and she began to lick me where it counted. This was a huge distraction, to say the least. I had never before had two lovers at once, and the second one was a woman!

Before I could dwell on it too long, however, Steve pushed me off his cock, spun me onto my back, spread my legs and entered me. Ahh. At last, this was what I needed. I made all the appropriate noises and he gave me the good fuck I needed. He did not last long, however, and I needed a little more. That's where John came in.

"Sally Higgins...wait...did you go to Centreville High School?" John asked.

"Yes," I said. "I know it's a poor white trash high school, but I learned a lot and don't you dare make fun of it."

"It's not that, Sally. I heard a certain Sally Higgins blew half the senior class of that high school. Any truth to that, Sally?" John asked.

"It's a small high school, only around 120 seniors, so around 60 boys. It's an exaggeration, I'm sure. No way I blew 30 boys," I said.

"Fifteen, would you say? Half the total of the rumor?" John asked.

I didn't answer. I just said, "Nobody fucked me; it was only blowjobs."

"Well, those days are over, Sally," John said, as he pushed Steve away and took his place, spreading my willing legs and leaning down to kiss me as he slipped his nice, hard cock right into my messy pussy.

After he drove me to a lovely climax and shot his load, he said, "You sure don't fuck like a virgin, Sally."

"I never said I was a virgin. I just said I never fucked a boy in my senior class of high school," I replied.

"Touché," John said, and he smiled broadly. "You're going to like college."

I smiled up at him as I closed my legs together.

***************************

I enjoyed that memory of my wild freshman year, but my mind came back to Dr. Green earlier that very day. He had said,

"Sadly, there aren't any other options."

"No other options? So if Dr. Taylor, Jack, says no, what happens?" I asked.

"You die, Sally," he said.

I shuddered. Time to get ready for my date with Dr. Jack Taylor.

***************
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