The Submissive Temp

The Power of Campari

After a lovely session with Ravi, I kissed the drained and exhausted man goodbye, and now fully dressed I left for work with a little spring in my step. The sex marathon had bought me a small reprieve, and my sexual need did not kick in forcefully until around 10:30AM. I wondered if it was because I was still taking a Rivonine capsule each day that made my sex drive and need so intense, or was it the virus, or was it the combination of the two? Who knew? Not me.

Dr. Green and all of his tests had confirmed Rivonine was working for me, and the virus that threatened me with death was in serious retreat. Woohoo! I had asked about the long-term effects on my love life from the virus, and he said that was unknown.

I asked if the virus and/or the Rivonine affected my brain?

"Certainly," Dr. Green said. "Surely you've noticed a changed attitude towards sex?"

"Yes. I think I orgasm more quickly and more easily, too," I said.

"You're not the first or the second or even the tenth to report that. It seems to be common," Dr. Green said.

"Are the effects permanent, or transitory?" I asked.

"We don't know. The Rivonine effects seem to be permanent, but the virus without Rivonine would lead to death, so who knows what exactly is causing the long-lasting effects? But yes, they certainly do seem to persist. Women lead changed lives after this virus plus Rivonine. You'll just have to live with that, since the alternative is, well, ..."

"Death?"

"Exactly," Dr. Green said. He seemed happy for my help finishing his sentence.

"And the Rivonine capsules? What are their long-term effects?" I asked. "I mean if a woman does not have the virus?"

"That we do have some information about. They often change people. Women are reported to have sex more casually, to orgasm more easily, and if their mores permit it, they tend to enjoy life more. Sadly, though, since our society is primarily a monogamous one, it does tend to present problems for many women," he said.

I thought about what it was doing to Dakota. I knew in my case I was already a lost cause. I was fucking every man in sight it seemed to me, at least at times. Maybe there was hope for Dakota; she had only taken one capsule, after all.

I had asked Dr. Green about Dakota's case. She was still acting like a major slut, even two weeks after she had taken the one Rivonine capsule. Drew had dumped her after she gave him gonorrhea. It did not even seem to slow her down!

"It's tricky in the case of your friend. I suspect the effects of Rivonine will dim over time, assuming she does not steal any more of your capsules, but aspects of your friend's sexual personality may be changed forever. Rivonine is one of the most powerful psychotropic drugs known to exist. Its full power is yet to be completely explored, since it is so dangerous to women who try it out," Dr. Green told me.

Today was promising for me however. It seemed Mr. Criens had set aside some time for a little tryst. The way I practically raped him no doubt made him glad that he had. I sensed that he could not believe how into him this 23-year-old sexpot was. I'll bet he was glad he had popped a Viagra that morning! I suspect that it was a little embarrassing when I moaned so loudly, and then when I came I truly screamed. Probably Mr. Criens wondered what Della was thinking, since her desk was just outside his office. Well, I guess he had to know what she was thinking. I certainly had a good idea. It was not pretty.

I could imagine Mr. Criens' thoughts. Sally must find older men a turn on. Or maybe it was how rich and powerful he was? He knew for some women, money and power were both strong aphrodisiacs. Who cared, really, what the reason was? Sally could not get enough of him! Sex with Sally was almost as good as Criens' company's stock going up 3% in a single day. That's how good she was! Of course, he may not have been thinking all that; that was just my imagination of his thoughts. I guess you never really know what another person's thinking is.

When Criens called an end to our tryst I had cum twice. I figured the De Chevalley virus and Rivonine together made it easier for a girl like me to cum. Dr. Green had said as much, anyway. Every man now was making me cum and to cum multiple times, at that. Andrew, Doug and of course Ravi had driven me to orgasms last night, too. Before this damn virus took possession of me, I would cum only rarely. It's a shame the virus is going to kill me, you know?

I was frustrated by the twenty-minute sex session with Mr. Criens. I felt penciled in. Still, I had cum twice. I only hoped I could keep it together until my date that evening with Dr. Jack Taylor. I hoped I could last until then. It was still hard to go hours at a time without sex, but it was getting easier as both the virus weakened, and my Rivonine doses diminished. Jack Taylor had called me and moved up our date. Thank goodness, I thought.

Jack, as I now called him, picked me up at 7PM, and whisked me off to a bar. I was wearing a sexy red dress for our date, slit up the side to give glimpses of leg and thighs, so at the bar I ordered a Campari, a red drink. The red Campari matched the red of my dress. I knew alcohol was dangerous, but Campari was "only" 56 proof. Besides, I loved Campari, especially when it was served with a slice of orange, as was done in most decent bars.

That's when something strange happened. After I finished my Campari on the rocks, I felt my screaming sex drive had eased up just a bit. I was still horny as hell, and riven with sexual need, but less so. Curious, I ordered a second Campari.

Dr. Taylor did not mind. He liked his bimbo sluts drunk when they were in his bed. Drunk women, he found, were less uptight about doing kinky things. Taylor liked kinky sex. He liked very kinky sex. He was planning for me to learn this little curiosity about his nature later on in the evening.

Sure enough, the second Campari reduced my sex drive even more. On a scale of one to ten, where three is a normal, healthy woman's sex drive, I had been constantly flirting with serious ten territory. The first Campari had reduced me to an eight, and the second Campari had reduced me to a seven. The two alcoholic drinks should have made my sexual need worse! Alcohol was supposed to do that! This was bizarre and I did not understand it.

Taylor took me to dinner after our time at the bar. We had a nice meal, and I pumped Taylor for information about his company, in a fawning aren't you magnificent? kind of way. I was good at that, as it turned out. Taylor kept looking at me. I now realize that he was imagining my sexual degradation to take place later that evening.

At dinner Jack suggested I begin with a glass of Dubonnet over ice. I didn't care; I was still puzzling over the Campari effect. Then Dubonnet had the same effect! My over the top sexual drive and need dropped to a six or seven on my personal scale. That was still more than twice my normal needs, before the De Chevalley virus, or when the virus had been in remission.

We switched to red wine during dinner, and my sex drive rocketed back up to around a level nine. I'm sure Taylor could see the lust in my face. He no doubt saw in my eyes that I truly wanted him sexually, and yes, I even needed him! I figured he was becoming convinced I was not some clever spy that Criens had sent to seduce him, which incidentally I had done par excellence, after all, but that I was a girl who was truly infatuated with him.

I forgot about the Campari and the Dubonnet effects as lust and barely contained desire crowded all other thoughts from my brain. I had become an animal in heat, a sex machine who was ready and willing just then to fuck any man who would have me, in any position, and under any circumstances. I conveyed this somehow to Dr. Taylor. Probably I conveyed it to every man at the restaurant.

"Tonight, let's go to my place, Sally," Dr. Taylor said, as we got our coats from the pretty coat check girl.

"What about your wife and kids?" I asked, while we stood right in front of the coat check girl. I was dimly aware of how inappropriate I was being, but I was out of control.

"They're away. My wife took the kids to visit her mother, up in Toronto," Taylor said.

"Your wife is Canadian?" I asked. How convenient, I thought.

Dr. Taylor's place was, not surprisingly, huge. It was an entire floor of an apartment building on Fifth Avenue, facing Central Park. It even had a patio, up on the sixteenth floor! I insisted we fuck on the patio and I pranced around outside on the patio in my birthday suit. I knew in theory some neighbors might have been able to see me all naked and fetching, but I did not care.

Jack reluctantly fucked me on the balcony, my boobs hanging over the railing. Lord, it was sexy! Then when he recovered, he fucked me in his daughter's bed. I guess he was too uptight to use the marital bed, but somehow having sex in his daughter's bed seemed to me to be deliciously nasty in any event.

I had to work for it, using all my fellatio talent, but I managed to help him to get it up a third time. Not bad for an old man! His third fuck, with me on my back on the huge dining table, was the best, as he lasted a long time. It must have been a thirty- or forty-minute fuck! I loved it. After he finally came, I just lay on my back on the table, and he had his servant place his dessert on my navel. He used my lower abdomen as his plate as he ate his dessert off my naked body.

It was a molten chocolate cake, and it was bit messy. I had a chocolatey abdomen, and some melted chocolate slowly made its way down to the top of my slit.

His man servant stood there next to him, waiting for instructions, as I wantonly lay there naked before the two men, the chocolate draped on my body all around my sex.

His dessert done, he and his man servant tied me up. He then had his man servant eat the chocolate off me, and once I was tongue cleaned of the chocolate, the same servant fucked me silly, while Jack watched. I loved it. I had been lusting for more and I figured Jack was done for the night. Once the man servant shot his load inside me (I had again forgot to insist on a condom!), Jack ordered him to continue to fuck me with a dildo, which he dutifully did.

A couple of hours later I asked if I could use Jack's computer to do some research on the Internet. He agreed. First though, I put Jack to bed and gave him a goodnight blowjob. When I heard him snoring I went to his computer, still naked, and used the password he had given me to go online. I discovered the common ingredient in Campari and Dubonnet was quinine. Could it be the quinine that was reducing my sex drive a little? I got excited at my potential discovery.

Suddenly I realized I was inside Dr. Taylor's private computer. I listened; he was still snoring away. I did some serious investigating, using my highly developed computer and programming skills. He had some protected files and I called upon all of my hacking skills and got to read everything there was to know about Rivonine.

The FDA was not going to approve Rivonine. That seemed clear. As it turned out if a woman did not have the deadly virus I had, and if she took Rivonine alone for example to ramp up her sex drive (as Dakota had done), it would be ten times more powerful than it was for me already! No wonder Dakota had been so out of control!

One little Rivonine capsule would turn a woman into a frantic, cock craving, fanatical slut! The virus was actually restraining this particular side effect of Rivonine in my case. Indeed, if a woman were to take five Rivonine capsules, my dose for the first seven days, while not having the virus, it was likely to drive her insane. The consequent insanity appeared to be irreversible. Unless Genomeds found a way to control the side effects of Rivonine, there was no way the FDA would approve it, and women with my disease would be doomed to a lusty, sexy last six months of life.

I had to stay on Jack's good side or I was toast! If he stopped supplying me with Rivonine, I would most certainly die. I remembered however that I worked for Mr. Criens, and that I was supposed to be an industrial spy. Now here I was, inside Dr. Taylor's computer which gave access to the entire Genomeds database.

I learned the basis of Rivonine. It was the wood conk mushroom! Actually, the scientists had tested the tinder mushroom and also chaga, all known as "medicinal mushrooms," but the wood conk in particular was thought to have anti-viral properties. They simply tested it on lots of viruses and guess what lucky virus succumbed to its medicinal charm? You got it: the De Chevalley virus!

The clever chemical engineers at the company isolated the ingredients that did the magic, figured out how to synthesize them, and were able to magnify the effects of the wood conk mushroom by a factor of around 1,000. I was impressed!

There was absolutely no evidence anywhere in the files about the effects on quinine. I concluded they did not know. I had to think, preferably when I was sober, about what to do about my little insight regarding quinine.

I quickly got out of the files I had been reading and hid all trace of my invasion of Jack's private space on his computer. I copied all the interesting files onto a flash drive. I put the flash drive in my purse.

I had found one interesting file. It contained a list of the women with whom Jack had enjoyed affairs over the years. He had headshots of each girl, and also compromising pictures of them as well, including me! All told, I was mistress number twenty-one. That kind of killed any delusions I might have had of being special, or important.

I rose from Jack's computer and stretched. As I looked around for my clothes the man servant entered the room again. I smiled at him as he undressed. He led me to the bedroom of Jack's son and he fucked me silly as I listened to Jack snore in the next room. The man servant's name, I learned, was Sundar and he was a talented lover. He came from Chennai (formerly Madras) and was vegetarian.

In spite of being a vegan, Sundar tied me up and he nevertheless did an excellent job of eating me out. Did that make me a vegetable? Did it make him an omnivore? A carnivore? Did I care? My orgasms were over the top with Sundar. Wow.

When I finally got home, via a taxi that Sundar summoned for me, I stayed up late doing research on the Internet. I learned that the bitter compound quinine comes from the bark of the cinchona tree in the Andes Mountains of South America. Jesuit missionaries figured out the medicinal properties of the bark of the cinchona tree by about 1650, and it became a breakthrough in the treatment of malaria. One needed a dose much higher than those found in Campari or Dubonnet, however. Tonic water, used in the famous gin and tonic combination, was a better source of quinine, although in its contemporary form it did not have that much quinine in it. So it was still not that good. The best was, of course, quinine pills.

I went to the store and stocked up on tonic water. I needed some men to see what my reactions would be and therefore whether or not the quinine did indeed lower the intensity of my craze for sex. I explained my discovery to my good friend Dakota. She and I drank at least a quart each of tonic water. Then we went to a pick-up bar, looking for men. We dressed the part, too.

Three hours later we had taken two of the men home. We enjoyed the sex, and we traded men as was now our custom, and we drained the men dry. They practically ran away lest we try to force yet another round of sex with them.

"Well, what do you think?" I asked Dakota, once the men had left.

"I loved the sex, Sally. Nothing's changed," she said.

"Well, I loved it too, but the intensity of my need to have the sex seemed diminished after all of the tonic water. I could just be imagining it, though?" I replied.

"Oh! If you put it that way, then yeah, my need was less intense, too. It was still there, in spades, but it was not as over the top as it had been recently," Dakota added.

I now knew. I had discovered a possible way to alter Rivonine and to turn it into a female Viagra. Think of the prospects for Dr. Taylor's company Genomeds! A female Viagra medicine, if approved by the FDA, would be a blockbuster drug!

I wondered if such an altered version would still be effective again the de Chevalley virus? Wouldn't that be wonderful? Then everyone would benefit.

Dakota had the same epiphany. "Sally, you could be a rich woman! A female alternative to Viagra would be a huge breakthrough! All of those frigid bitches men always complain about could be slipped a Rivonine and men, well, watch out! You'll need to handle this well, or Dr. Taylor will freeze you out once you tell him your insight. You'll never touch a dime."

"You're right," I said. "I need a lawyer, a good one."

"That you do, girl," Dakota said. "That you do. Got any ideas for one?"

"I do indeed, I surely do," I said.

It had been four or five years since I had slept with Mr. Glassman and his friends, but several of them were lawyers, I was pretty sure. I knew there were different types of lawyers. I needed a really good one. I needed Mr. Glassman's friend, Howard Rubin. I remembered him. He liked me tied up, as I recall. He had a nice cock, too.

When the quinine wore off, my sexual need rose to the surface again. I was beginning to wish I was not such a needy sexual animal. But I was. I called Maria. I needed Ravi The Magnificent again.

Maria instead agreed to lend me her husband Andrew for my experiments. She told me he could not get over the amazing sex he had with me that one time at the football evening, and it was clear she was annoyed by it.

"Are you sure you want to lend me Andrew? I could always seduce Ravi, or Miguel, you know?" I asked Maria.

"Yeah, I'm sure. While he's busy getting his rocks off with you, I'll have some sneaky fun with Doug, you know? Andrew still doesn't know about Doug and me, " Maria replied.

Andrew came over a little embarrassed. We both had some Scotch whisky to relax and to get in the mood, and my lust scale rocketed up to a nine. I wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him silly! I managed to stay in control and I drank yet another can of tonic water. I sunk to an eight. I drank another can. My desire level suck down to a seven. A third can went down the hatch, and I'm not sure, but I may have stayed at seven, or perhaps flirted with a level six.

Andrew was puzzled and on his second Scotch as he watched me chugging tonic water. I then had to pee and Andrew came along to watch. I didn't care. "Want me to pee naked?" I asked.

Dumb question. Soon I was peeing naked. Andrew told me to pee in the bathtub but first he closed the drain. My submissive state was there in spades so of course I did everything he asked of me. I peed standing up in the bath, to give Andrew a better view. Who knew he was so kinky? I had to stand in my own pee. "Does Maria know you like to watch a girl pee?" I asked.

"No!" Andrew said, and he looked scared and horrified. "Please don't tell her!"

"Andrew," I began, "what happens in my bathtub stays in my bathtub."

Andrew smiled at my promise of discretion. "Lie down, Sally. I want to fuck you in your pee."

I complied and he kept his promise. With my still warm pee in the tub we got down and dirty and fucked our hearts out right there in the tub. After the fuck, which was very nice I must say, if a little uncomfortable, Andrew rose up and he proceeded to urinate all over my boobs while I giggled hysterically. He aimed right at my nipples and I guess he had a lot of control because his aim was true.

As soon as he finished covering my boobs with his golden shower, I grabbed his flaccid cock and sucked it lovingly. He became hard again rather quickly, and then I fucked him on top, while he rolled around in our combined urine as I bounced on top of him.