“Oh shit…” I whispered under my breath as the two blondes that clearly weren’t wearing underwear looked in my direction.
I made a beeline for the closest shop door and quickly entered, “Hey sweetie, where you going?!?”, I heard their sing song voices call out behind me and I let out a deep breath I wasn’t even aware I was holding.
“Everything alright Miss?” the shop keepers voice called.
I opened my eyes and smiled in his direction, “Yes, just, ah… well, you know.” I said with a shrug.
“The Taylor girls?” he asked.
“Was that their name?” I replied with a nod.
“Yep, I think so if it’s who I am thinking of. Got infected about two weeks ago from what I hear.”
I nodded, “Yeah, that sounds about right for their progress.” I replied and turned to look out the shop window, the two girls had little object permeance left and so when I closed the door behind my they lost track of me. They were currently wandering away from the shop towards someone farther down the street.
At two weeks the virus had done a number on their heads, but it was still working through their body. The Taylor’s would spend the next few weeks growing giant boobs, big round asses, and tiny waists until they looked like little more than blow up dolls.
Well that and trying to infect as many other women as possible of course.
I stepped towards the counter and finally took stock of the shop, it was full of trinkets and presents and crafts. The man standing behind the counter looked to be in his thirties and had a warm genial smile.
“Well, take your time, you’ll be safe here. Maybe have a look around and see if you find anything interesting.” he said with a practiced sales tone.
I nodded, “Thanks.”, and then started wandering around the store. It would be safe in a little while so I could waste some time shopping. I poked around the store, examining small figures, paper weights, ornaments, and other things until I decided it was probably safe again.
I walked back to the front of the store and took a quick look up and down the street, no signs of the Taylor’s in sight.
Then I headed back to the front desk, “Thanks, I like your shop, I might come back when I’m looking for a present or something, but I think it’s safe to head out again so I’m going to get going.”
“Of course, stay safe.” he said and then she turned to leave, just as she was arriving at the door she heard a strang pphft and then a sharpe pain in her buttocks.
“What?!?” I cried out and twisted around to see a dart sticking out of my ass.
I looked up at the shop keeper, a dart gun in his hand, and a smile on his face.
“Don’t worry, just a sedative for now.” he said in a reassuring voice that brought me no comfort.
I was going to make a run for it, but as I took the first step my legs gave out from beneath me and I slumped onto the floor as darkness came for me.
I groaned as the sedative started to wear off and my eyes flickered open, the shop keeper standing in front of me as the realization that I was strapped into a chair bubbled up to the surface of my conciousness.
“What the fuck!?!” I shouted out.
“Sorry about that, business has been pretty bad and I’m having to supplement my income.” he replied with what seemed like genuine regret.
I instantly knew what he was talking about.
The virus ran a pretty standard course, it infected the host, spent a few days building up enough new virus particles to start infecting others, then hit the brain, and finally the body. By the fourth week the immune system normally had overcome the infection, but it was too late for the infected.
In the end, after the infected person was left a sex crazed bimbo, but completely harmless otherwise.
There was one “quirk” about the infection cycle, if you could catch the infection just after it had hit the brain, you could manipulate the final outcome of the impact on the brain.
At first, an underground industry had grown up around the quirk. People would look out for the recently exposed and monitor them, if they showed any signs they could slip in and snatch them up, isolate them, and redirect them from turning into sex crazed bimbos, and instead turn them into sex slaves.
It had become such a success that some of the industry had decided it wasn’t worth waiting to spot a newly infected person, and instead just infect them up front.
That was what was about to happen to me.
“Please, don’t. Just let me go.” I pleaded with him as he walked over to the side of me where an IV drop was setup.
He reached around behind the back of the chair and pulled out a set of headphones.
“The good news is that this process is a lot faster than a natural infection. The IV is a mix of the virus, a few metabolism enhancing drugs, a immune suppressor, and a shit ton of calories. You’ve already been on it for a couple of hours.” he said before strapping my head against the back of the chair and placing the headphones over my ears.
“In a day or two I’ll swap it out for basically the opposite mix to get you back on your feet in a week or so.” he said as he walked over to a computer on a small table behind him.
He typed on the keyboard and after a moment soft music started to play in me ears.
“I’ll leave you too it, but try and relax, there’s nothing to be done now anyway.”
Then he left, closing the door and leaving me alone as a voice started to softly speak over the music.
“You are a slave. You are property. You have an owner. You obey your owner without question. You love being a slave. You want to be useful for your owner. You want to please your owner. You are a slave…”
