It had been a couple weeks since I had heard from my handlers. Since then I was able to get on medications. They were right, they had given me the recumbent strain of HIV but the meds were able to get me to a functioning level. No one at work had noticed that I was coughing more often -- people were in their own worlds in an office building. I'm a intern at a reputable office firm. The upside of that is I spend my time alone with my nose in files, books and computers. Since our last meeting at the hotel, I'd taken the chance to get my boobs done...I was up to a D cup now. I was embracing this life!
The phone on my desk rang with an outside number on the screen. As I was alone in my own office, I hit the speaker button. "Hello?"
"Greetings, Sparrow. This is the red queen, and I'm your handler."
"I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me." I answered with a sigh of relief.
"No chance in hell, Sparrow. We've taken time to get things in order for you. In your top right hand desk drawer you'll find a brown envelope. Open it and put what's inside of it deep into your pussy."
"What is it?" I asked opening the drawer.
"It's a tracking device and vibrator in one. It will tell us where you are, and keep you low buzzed horny at the same time. We want you motivated. Slide it as deeply inside of yourself as you can."
I quickly pulled up my skirt, put my legs on my desk and got it into place.
She must have pushed a button somewhere because my entire pelvis vibrated slightly.
"Well...hello. That feels pretty good." I said smiling.
"That's the idea. It never shuts off because it runs off your body's energy like an automatic watch. It will wear you down. You'll start seeing all men as sex objects."
I smiled. "That sounds really great, actually."
"You think it sounds great now, but wait until you're sleep deprived. You've got a client today but don't worry, he's coming to you. He's arriving in a few minutes -- college grad from the mail room. Get naked and bend over the desk."
As I took my clothes off I asked, "Does he know I'm HIV positive?"
"No, and you're not going to tell him either. Bend over the desk, facing away from the door. Leave the windows looking out over the street open too."
After assuming the position, I rubbed my clit to get myself wet. "Why hasn't anyone called me a 'whore' or 'slut' yet?"
"We don't do that to our girls unless they want it. Do you want it?" She asked curiously.
Smiling I answered, "Yes, please."
"Then we will, whore. Now bend over the desk."
No sooner had I done so than he walked in and closed the door behind him. His cock was already hard and throbbing -- common for young men, or so I'm told. He thrust straight into me, not taking his time. He was of average length and girth.
He slapped me on the ass and said, "Hands on the desk, whore."
I obeyed and picked my legs up by spreading them wide, and putting my knees on the desk, then pushing back against him. I arched my back so that my breasts were off the desk and moaned loudly.
He put both his hands on my hips and began to wail away at me fast and hard. "I'm a virgin but not for long, whore."
I spoke. "Let me teach you. Slow down and pull out to your tip, please. Steady strokes. Make it last."
The Red Queen told me my job was to infect men with HIV, and the longer he was in me, the greater the chance of me pozzing him. I needed him to slow down.
He obeyed, exhaling a deep breath out of his mouth.
"Sex is about dominance. My body is your play thing. I'm built to submit. Don't respect me. Don't even like me. Use me. I'm a slut -- treat me as such."
As he pushed into me again he said, "You're really tight, whore."
"Move both your hands to around my neck and choke me a little. Dominate me. Women like that."
He obeyed again. He was barely holding onto his load, I felt that. I needed him to last.
"Look at the clock on the wall. Nice, smooth, steady strokes for three minutes then slam me for one minute as hard and fast as you can. Lather, rinse, repeat until you can't hold it any longer."
"You should know..." He began, "I'm not using a condom."
