New World Epidemic - Chapter Six

I woke to a bitter taste and aching in my shoulders. Shaking my head was like moving through pea soup while pinballs rattled in my skull.

My hands were strapped behind me, as were my ankles to the feet of a chair.


No answer.

The fog lifted and I found myself in a room with grey, cinder block walls, a concrete ceiling dripping with condensation, florescent lights blinking in and out, and a dirty mirror to veil my reflection with handprints and dust. Knowing my luck there were agents on the other side waiting to begin an interrogation.

I fought against the restraints, but they wouldn’t budge. No matter how hard I squirmed all they did was hurt.

“You can’t keep me like this,” I yelled at the mirror. “It’s unconstitutional! Habeas corpus, man!”

Suddenly there was the sound of metal grinding against metal, a click and the whining of a door coming open. Footsteps followed, and rounded the room until Danvers came into view holding a bottle with a straw in one hand.

He held it to my lips.

“Drink,” he said.

I wasn’t going to argue, especially with gunk drying on my tongue. I slurped like there was no tomorrow, like it was the best tasting water I’d ever swallowed. The cool taste running down my throat was enough to bring me back to life.

Danvers pulled the bottle away and grimaced. He wasn’t so goofy looking standing over me; that had been replaced with menace, with a look in his eye that wanted to slap me across the face with his fat, flabby hand. There was something else, more than hatred, that I couldn’t read.

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” I asked.

“You snuck onto a restricted area,” he said. “You work it out.”

“You’re not with the EPA, and probably not with the Board of Health, either. Who are you?”

“Officially none of your goddamn business,” he said, pressing a finger to my forehead.

I snarled. “What’s the tiresias virus?”

He chuckled and patted my shoulder. “Tell you what. If I’m in a good mood I’ll answer some questions… if you make it through the next sixteen hours.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

Danvers whistled as he stepped out the door and pulled it shut. It grinded and whined, and locked with a heavy thud, loud enough to rattle the mirror.

Sixteen hours; what was he going to do? Gas the room? Flood it? Run me through a gauntlet?

I pulled at the restraints and tilted the chair, rocking and screaming.

“Who do you think you are? This is illegal! You can’t just leave me here! Hey!”

Was he even listening? Was he even there?

Maybe ten minutes had passed before I heard something; not the agents but the whispers haunting my arousal. They trickled through my thoughts, peppering them with vivid fantasy, and would not leave me no matter how hard I shook. My cock surged against my panties, my rear entrance pouted, and my nipples swelled right when there was nothing I could do about it.

I fought the restraints until my skin was raw, but still they wouldn’t give way. God, my whole body was screaming for touch. I thrust at the air in the hopes it would do something, but burned without relief. How was I going to endure sixteen hours of denial?

“Danvers!” I screamed his name. “Danvers, this is cruel and unusual punishment!”

In my throes the chair came off balance and collapsed to its side, with me on it. I lay cheek first against the ground, marinating in a puddle, freezing my not-even-week-old-tits off. Still I was turned on, and unable to get any traction.

My erection was killing me.

The sands of time passed one grain at a time, and I was starving between them. It couldn’t have been more than an hour before the sweats began, and I couldn’t hold a thought. Whispers flew past until the room was wiped clean by giggles and moans.

I was helpless.

* * * *

I didn’t have to look to know it was Angela; there was no mistaking the rhythm of her boots as she approached. It was as though I could hear her swaying.

“Hey, bitch. Are you coming or what?”

Though I was still face down in the puddle my hands and feet were unbound, and the chair had vanished. I pulled myself up, positioning myself on the wall, and turned to the goddess in the fishnets and black mini skirt.

I blinked, more than a few times.

“Where’s Danvers?” I asked.


“You know, the government guy,” I said. “We stole his keys, and we-”

“Who cares? We’ve got a party to get to.”

A party? The more I thought about it the more obvious it was that we were supposed to be somewhere else, at the event of the season! Everyone was going to be there; from school, students, teachers, parents, with booze, sex and music, packed under one roof for an unforgettable night.

Angela took my hand and lead me through the door and into the hallway.

My cell was less than a memory, and was replaced by polished, hardwood floors, and weird paintings hung from the walls. There were countless women packed into the small area, bouncing to the bass beats resonating in their chests. Their cries were as dim as the light washing over them, that flashed like a strobe in slow motion.

I could barely make out the words when Angela asked if I wanted a drink. She reached for a red, plastic cup and offered it to me, but drew it back and drank it herself. Angela held a mouthful of the bubbling liquid, and leaned close to feed it into my mouth.

It seemed so carnal to have her spit what tasted like cheap champagne into my mouth, but there wasn’t much below me anymore. Any excuse to get close to Angela and to taste her lips was good enough for me.

She wrapped her arms around my neck while I grabbed her hips, and moved with her in time with the music. Our breasts pushed against one another and the length of her dick pressed against my stomach. I inhaled her with boundless enthusiasm, drunk on the smell and the taste.
Boom boom boom, my heart beat from my chest. Boom boom boom, the bass rocked the house.

Another body pulled in from behind and ground against my backside. It didn’t matter who it belonged to, only that it felt so good, that my body was able to contort into her and that we fit. Her hands ran down my side, causing me to shiver and for Angela to laugh; my sensitivity must have seemed so quaint.

I turned my head and Angela was behind, naked, and positioning herself against me. It was no effort at all for her cock to slide into me, as though I’d been waiting for her since the dawn of time. She moved, back and forth, filling me, stretching me from the inside, casting me into a vortex of need. With every encounter she only became more powerful.

There was another woman before me, bent forward and using me to impale her cunt. It slurped my entire length, drinking me in, even when Angela’s thrusts pushed me further. How did she get there? Not that it mattered.

More naked bodies filled the room from every angle, all the way to the ceiling. Gravity had lost all meaning. Every surface was overtaken by fucking of every kind.

A prick appeared in front of my face, and overcome with desire I swallowed it in time with Angela and the nameless woman milking me. Other hands poured over my body, running electricity on my skin, standing every hair on end and overwhelming my senses.

They burned as they milked me, and smelled of sweat. Flesh stuck to flesh, and slid through the collection of fluids. My thoughts were like putty, and the arousal inside mounted like a tidal wave threatening to crash over everything.

Fuck, I never wanted it to end!

Behind the pubic mound thrusting into my face I saw an ocean of flesh made up of as many people as there were moans. The bass faded into a cacophony of sex, screams and laughter, spread over the room. There was no telling where it began, and where it ended.

My orgasm climbed to new heights, and readied itself to spill over the wall; higher and higher, closer to the edge…

Suddenly I was back in the interrogation room, laid on my side and still tied to a chair. My arms were numb, my shoulders ached, and I was face first in a puddle. How long had I been there?

I struggled, not just for freedom but to touch myself. The whispers were screaming, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

* * * *

The cell door open and I lifted my head.

I was a shivering mess, cold, filthy, but still dripping with sweat, and I was hard. There wasn’t much I would turn down at that point, not even Danvers. Hell, even my mom, or a wild dog would have done, so long as I could stick my cock in something.

A pair of hands wrenched the chair from the ground and put me upright. I shook heavy drops from my hair and tried to make him out in the haze.

He leaned over me, cupped my face, and inspected my condition.
“Seven hours. You keeping it together?”

I said nothing.

“You’ve probably been having hallucinations,” he said. “What did you see?”

Words couldn’t form while he was touching. I rolled my cheek and attempted to take his pudgy fingers into my mouth. I wanted them, one by one, and to taste his skin, to start devouring him kiss after kiss.
Danvers pulled away. “Horny little bitch, aren’t you?”

Every muscle twitched and worked against the restraints, but only succeeded in rubbing my wrists raw.


He frowned.

“Please… fuck me,” I begged.

The agent ran a palm through what remained of his hair and sighed. “Sweetheart, I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.”

His words were just noise without meaning. Of course he wanted to - everyone wanted to; sex of every kind, no matter how depraved, was the order of the day. There was no getting around it, not even for someone as straight laced as Danvers.

I threw myself forward, and barked. “Fuck me!”

The agent looked down and rested his chin against a roll of fat. He strolled back and forth in a lazy pace, every so often stealing a glance and laughing.

“Do you even know what you are?” he asked.

I was fixed on him like a starving animal.

Danvers huffed and turned away. “Of course you don’t. You’re just cattle.”

What was he talking about? My erection surged, my nipples pointed like icicles, but I shook myself back to reason. Maybe if I could sense through my arousal he’d talk.

The words were like boulders moving from my tongue. “The… tiresius… virus,” I said.

He raised a brow. “Look at you, a real-live mystery solving teen. Color me impressed.”

I clenched my jaw to hold on. “What is it?”

The agent clicked his tongue. “Why the fuck not? Who are you going to tell?” He reached for another chair and straddled it while leaning over the back.

I leaned closer; virus or not, I wasn’t going to miss this.

Danvers laughed. “Did you know that the CIA was commissioned to build a ‘gay bomb’?”


“It’s a matter of public record now,” he said. “Their thinking was that turning enemy combatants ‘gay’ would leave them so overcome with lust they would be rendered ineffective in battle. Officially, the project was a failure, and those who came up with it were made to be laughing stocks by the government. Unofficially, however…”

I gasped. Could it be true? “Our… government did this?”

“Not just ours,” he said. “Russia, China, parts of Europe; hell, even Saddam had a crack.”

“I… don’t… believe you.”

Danvers smirked. “And why should you? It’s fucking crazy, but you know what they say; truth is stranger than fiction.”

A sudden urge drove through my veins and boiled. I had to fuck something, someone, and soon, or I was going to explode. With every ounce of strength I had I jerked at Danvers; my mouth would have him if nothing else.

He groaned and started for the door. “Maybe I should leave you be. You’ve got some things to work through. I’ll explain more when I can trust you to keep it in your pants.”

I was alone again, still unable to move, with my cock standing like the empire state. Sex clouded my thoughts, so much that I couldn’t see. How much longer would it hold out?

* * * *

Suddenly it was dark. My hands were free, and I was wearing a clean red dress. Stranger still, I standing in the same room as I was in the dream, where an orgy rolled out as wide as the ocean.

I could still hear the party-goers in the distance, just within earshot, but they were nowhere to be found as I peeked down the hall and into the rooms. The beds were made, the curtains were open, and there were no signs that people had been there; not even a discarded drinking glass on the benches.

My body twitched. The arousal had waned, but still hungered.

I stumbled through the front door and into the street. There was no life save for the wind in the trees, and no light save for that cast by the moon. The cold prickled my skin and set in my bones.
Where was everybody?

The moans continued in the distance, somewhere in the mountains, but were growing quieter. They called to me, but I didn’t follow. Maybe I could catch them, or maybe not; it seemed more important to make sense of the place I was in.

Wasn’t there a basement just a moment ago? My wrists were tender when I rubbed them, but otherwise alright.

Then there was movement; a shadow darting from one side of the road to the other, between the houses.


I sprinted after the form. It was small, at least for a person, assuming it was a person.

When I caught up I found a kid in a hood, balled up in the corner of a fence. They were trembling, and winced with every step I took toward them.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

My words did nothing to put them at ease. Instead they balled tighter, as though trying to roll into shadow and into nothingness. They pulled a branch in front of them, as though becoming part of the bushes would make them invisible.

The kid turned so I could see her face; there was no mistaking my little sister, overcome with terror.


She screamed louder than the wind, loud enough to split my ears, and sent me doubling back. It was enough to shatter the world around.

I opened my eyes and I was still in the chair. My shoulders were stiff and set in place, while the friction of the rope had rubbed through my leggings and the skin of my wrists. There was blood trickling to my fingers, or at least I thought so.


Again, no answer. Danvers was somewhere else.

Though it wasn’t his absence that struck me; rather it was the stillness of my body, and my clear head. My skin didn’t hunger as it did, and my cock sat unobtrusively to one side of my panties. I wasn’t even aware of it until I took deliberate notice.

I called to Danvers again. “Hey!”

The urge to fuck him had vanished. Was the ordeal over?

* * * *

Eternity dragged like the droplets down the brick so long that I didn’t know anything outside the room. Danvers said ‘sixteen hours’, like it was supposed to mean something; there was no way of knowing how long I’d been there, if it was day or night, anything.

My shoulders were stiff, my mouth was dry, and my thighs ached from sitting too long. At least movement was all I wanted. The whispers were absent, probably off harassing another convert in my place.

I stared in the mirror. No matter how many times I saw her the image didn’t set. There was a girl fastened to the chair, and not me. Black hair hung over her face, and plush lips blew the strands from her vision. She wasn’t me; I was just her puppet master.

The longer I sat the more I thought about family, about my Dad who was probably changed by then, about my Mom caught up in the fever, about Katie and whether she was alone, and Angela. She’d helped me break into Danver’s car, but I couldn’t shake the feeling she knew more than she was telling.

Finally the lock of metal door whined and opened. Danvers stepped out of it looking a mess, with bags under his eyes and tie loosened around his collar. In one hand he held a triangle box containing a truck stop sandwich. He put it down to close the door again, and sealed us both inside.

“Hold still.”

The agent produced a knife and rounded the chair. A moment later my hands and ankles were loose.

Freedom hurt after hours of confinement. Muscles twitched as I bent my joints, while my wrists were bloody and burned by friction.

Danvers threw the sandwich into my lap.

“Hope you like turkey,” he said.

It could have been sand for all I cared; I still would have devoured it.

He took the other chair and sat, watching intently as I smashed food into my mouth. There was something off about his smile. It was almost enough to put me off the meal, almost.

I slowed my chewing and lifted my gaze.

“You were that kid snooping around the woods,” he said. “Jonah, right?”

“Brooke,” I murmured, and took another bite.

“Still, same guy. Well, not ‘guy’ anymore.”

I said nothing.

“You want to tell me what you were doing in the trunk of my car?” Danvers leaned closer. “Don’t worry. You’re not in trouble. Believe it or not I’m on your side.”

Of all the nerve. My fists balled tight.

“The guys in the hazmat suits, in the trucks,” I said. “Those are yours, right?”

Danvers nodded, slowly. “I am with them, yes.”

My jaw clicked. “What did they do with my sister?”

“Depends. How old is she?”

“Eight,” I said.

The agent leaned back and tapped the chair. “In that case she’s been removed for her own protection, along with every other pre-pubescent. She’s safe.”

“And why should I believe you?”

“Let me ask you something,” Danvers said. “Given what you’ve seen of state of this town, you really want a child out there fending for themselves?”

“We’re her family.”

“Your family are too busy blowing each other and the neighbors and complete strangers to think about protecting a little girl,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong. Last thing I want to do is remove a child from her family, but are they really in any condition to be the parents she needs? Are you?”

He had a point. God damn it.

I turned away, but made sure to keep him in the corner of my eye.

“What did you do to me?”

Danvers chuckled. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not… horny,” I said. “Was it you?”

He hummed. “Sixteen hours of celibacy is what it takes before the urges pass. You’ll have a clear head for the next day or two, then the voices come back.”

“The whispers,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s them. Working through them and not giving into temptation is hard, maybe impossible on your own, but it’s the only way to get back to sanity. Even then it only works for some. Most of the exposed can’t maintain the kind of mental cohesion you and I have.”

I stopped.

“What does that mean?”

Danvers stood and wandered to the mirror, smirking and sighing.

I turned to him, and growled. “You’ve been walking around for days in the open. Why haven’t you changed? How come you haven’t been infected?”

He stopped.

“I am infected,” Danvers said.


“It’s true,” he said. “Twenty years ago, while patrolling the Khyber Pass.”

I blinked, and tried to envision a twenty-something year old agent transformed into a woman. The image was a far cry from the round faced agent standing across from me.

“So you found a cure,” I said.

Danvers shook his head. “No.”

“Then, why…?”

The agent slipped off his tie and shrugged off his jacket. I stood, transfixed, dreading what was coming. Danvers began to unbutton his dress shirt, and loosened his belt.

“Twenty years,” he said. “A lot can happen in that time. Surgery, testosterone regimens, and the most advanced anti-virals known to man. The result; well, see for yourself.”

Danvers pulled his shirt open to reveal a patchwork of scars. There were long marks running under his chest, and sutures where his nipples should have been. His hair grew in patches, but did little to cover the scars left by what I imagined to be monstrous needles. Most shocking of all were the contents of his tighty-whiteys, or lack thereof. No penis, and no testes; only a jagged scar marking where they might have been.

“There is no ‘cure’,” the agent said. “There’s a lifetime of treatments, but you’ll never be normal again.”

“Oh my god.”

He turned away and started to dress himself again.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

I nodded.

“We aren’t the bad guys,” he said. “Can you imagine what would happen if this got out into the world; the kind of suffering it would bring? We’re already over-populated and short on resources, and that’d only be the icing on this cake.”

I doubled over and stared at the floor.

“So we’re doomed,” I said.

Danvers placed a hand on my shoulder. “This is no accident, Brooke. Somebody released the tiresias virus on this town.”

“But… why?”

“There are countless reasons,” he said, “but more important than that is that we keep the virus contained.”

“And then?”

“Then… I don’t know.”

Danvers and I locked our gaze. His story might have been hard to believe the week before, but things had changed for everyone. It was more sane than aliens, or a curse, or water pollutants.

“Brooke, I’m going to need your help,” he said. “You’ve got a cool head. That’s a rare commodity right now. Can I count on you?”

The agent held out his hand, and I shook it.

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