Nick had the most boring job in the world. He wasn’t even too sure what he did when marched into work and stared at his open email tabs before deciding to just figure out what he was working on tomorrow. At a certain point in his life, he had just stopped caring, and now he found himself drifting through his days like a car from Fast and Furious, except it followed the rules and was a pretty standard car.

That was until he heard the words from his doctor, “You’re dying, Nick.” And suddenly he woke up again.

“What do you mean?” Nick couldn’t believe it. “I walk, I—I go to the gym, I eat lots of pasta and vegetables, sometimes. How could I be dying?”

She looked at the chart speculatively, but just shook her head and looked him in the eyes. “You have glioblastoma, brain cancer. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.” It was only then that he noticed his doctor was beautiful. She had long brunette hair in a ponytail, smoky eye shadow, and underneath her lab coat, he could see her curves through her blouse. “You said you stopped caring about things a couple of months ago, correct?”

“Yes,” Nick said, still putting all the pieces together.

“Well, that’s likely when the cancer grew to a space that affected your emotional control centers. I’m sorry, Nick, but I would say you likely don’t have more than a week, maybe a month at most. I would start making final arrangements.”

It all made sense now. The strange feelings, why he had been shutting his friends out of his life, and the consistent, persistent, burning headaches.

“There is one more thing.” She got closer to him and said, “Under the MRI scan we were sure that this was a cancer, but the state of it was rather odd. Instead of looking like an amorphous shape, it almost looked like a sea urchin with spikes digging into different parts of your brain.” Nick could tell that she was clearly fascinated by this thing in his head. “I have forms here that, if you could sign, would give us permission to study it after you have passed on.” She placed her hand on his shoulder as she was likely taught to do all throughout medical school and said, “Take your time.”

She left the room and Nick studied the forms and the picture of his strange friend living in his head. It really did look like an alien. “FEED ME!” a voice suddenly said from inside his skull, causing Nick to fall to the ground in agony. Clutching his head, he screamed, “AHHHH!”

“FEED ME!” the voice demanded again.

“No!” Nick responded to no one in particular.

Dr. Sanders rushed back in to check on Nick. “Are you okay?” she asked, helping him to his feet.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I just—for a second I thought I heard a voice in my head. Like the tumor was talking to me.” He felt crazy as he said it, but he figured he now, at least, had the brain cancer card he could play, so no one could really call him crazy.

“That’s perfectly normal considering your circumstance,” she continued. “If you don’t feel comfortable filling out the form right now, we can—”

“No, it’s okay. I want to donate my body. I won’t really need it, but would you mind if I took these home to look at?” He got up and started picking up his things, including his silly yellow raincoat, which he had received once at a distant birthday party when he was much younger and cared much more about things.

“Of course, take your time, sir.”

He was much too passive to say anything about it, but he hated being called sir. Instead, he just nodded his head and walked out the door before feeling one more sharp pain where he assumed the cancer was growing. Not wanting to bother anyone with his immense pain, he clenched his fist tightly and took a deep breath before walking out the door.

* * *

Dr. Caroline Sanders hated giving patients bad news. Once in med school, when she was learning the art of comforting patients, she got so nervous that instead of telling her imaginary patient that he was dying, she tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Well, I’m not dying today.” It was not her proudest moment, but over the years she had gotten much better. In fact, she thought her appointment with Nick had gone quite well. He normally never said a word to her, instead preferring to just sit there and stare at the diagram of the tumor on her wall, but today felt like the closest they had ever gotten, which was funny to her considering he’d be dead in just about a week.

She really did hope she could get her hands on that tumor; she had never seen anything like it. It was at that point, about 30 seconds after he had left, that she started to feel rather flustered. Particularly near her private areas. She was no stranger to sexual desires, as she believed having regular sex about once or twice a month was very healthy, but she usually had her desires under control, and she had never felt this way at work. But now, sitting at her desk, finishing up the paperwork for Nick, she really was flustered. Although, perhaps a better word for it was horny. Yes, she was horny.

At first it was small and slightly distracting, but it slowly grew as she brought the pen by her keyboard closer to her mouth until, by the time she was almost done with the report, she had just kept it there, making a sucking motion in and out, swirling her tongue around it and imagining how nice it would be to have a cock in her mouth right at that moment. When she noticed this was happening, she slapped herself, which unintentionally turned her on more, and put the pen down.

“Get a hold of yourself, Caroline,” she said to herself. “You are a doctor, you have more patients to see today, and you will not be slutting yourself out to the first person who asks!” Of course she said all this with her skirt hiked up to her hips and her fingers working her clit, faster and faster, and then slowly again as she grabbed the pen with her other hand and started sucking on it. She was lost in the pleasure of imagining herself on her knees in a bar, with someone fucking her from behind while she attempted to suck two dicks at once. She had never been this horny before in her life when there was a sudden knock on the door, knocking her out of her stupor.

“Excuse me, Dr. Sanders, you have a patient here to see you about his erectile dysfunction. He said he’s been waiting for five minutes,” her secretary said.

Dr. Sanders adjusted her skirt, took the pen out of her mouth, and put it into her coat pocket. In case she needed it later, it really was a rather thick pen. She buttoned up her blouse, which at some point had come undone so she could play with her nipples. “I’ll be right there.”

She straightened up, though still horny, and walked to exam room three.

* * *

Nick Briarwood had just made it back to his small apartment on the east side of the city where he had just come to the conclusion that he would not be telling anyone about his impending doom. The last time he told anyone about a special occasion, he got that yellow raincoat that he hates so much, and he didn’t want to go through something like that again, so he decided to keep this to himself.

He went to the fridge and grabbed some leftover salmon and mashed potatoes from the night before. He did love to cook. He threw them into some parchment paper and then into the air fryer. Now, all he had to do was wait eight minutes and he would have a meal as fresh as if it were made yesterday. If Nick could leave everything in his will to his air fryer, then he would. His head started to hurt again.

* * *

Caroline was convinced that she must be coming down with some weird sickness, or perhaps had been drugged, because she had never been so horny in her life. And here she was standing in front of an average-looking 60-year-old man, Mr. Charles Fredrickson, one of the sweetest people she had ever met and a longtime family friend. His wife was her godmother. Yes, it was awkward for both of them that he came to see her about his erectile dysfunction, but the Fredricksons didn’t have insurance, and they really were family. You don’t keep secrets between family, so they had managed to keep things strictly professional, and as a plus side, Caroline never asked any questions so she never had to see his penis. Although now, she kind of sort of really wanted to see it.

“Hey sweetie,” he said. “Sorry to have to come in. We’ve been doing this for so long that you think they would’ve just given me a full-time mailing subscription, huh?” He laughed at that, and Caroline laughed too, a bit harder than usual. “If you can just write me that prescription, I’ll be out of your hair.”

Those words were enough to trigger a vision of him cumming in her hair after a sloppy blowjob. She felt herself get even wetter and thanked the stars she was wearing dark pants.

“Actually, umm,” she wanted to place her hands in areas she shouldn’t, so she settled for giving herself a spank with one hand, then resting that hand on her chest to slowly knead at her breast in what she thought was an imperceptible act. Her other hand went to his shoulder, slowly massaging it. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about this and it’s not really professional for me to give you a prescription-strength erectile dysfunction medicine without proper observation.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. What do you mean? We’ve been doing this for years with no trouble. I wouldn’t want to make either of us uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Fredrickson, but I am a doctor, and I swore an oath to protect and to guide.” It was kind of hard to remember the words as her hand more blatantly massaged her sensitive breast, causing it to start to spill out of the blouse, which had lost some of its top buttons somewhere in the hallway. “Regardless, I would not be doing my proper due diligence if I didn’t have a look for myself, so take your pants off and drop your underwear.”

“Are you serious, sweetie?”

“My name is Dr. Sanders and I am very serious,” she said as her hand on his shoulder went to her other tit. “Now drop those trousers and show me your big cock—I mean, dick—I mean, penis.”

Charles Fredrickson was very confused because he knew that his close friend’s daughter was very attractive, but she was also intelligent and strong. He knew this wasn’t fully like her, massaging her breast openly to the point where her dark areolas were starting to pop out over her bra, which was now fully showing due to her blouse being halfway undone. At the same time, he was still a man—a man who hadn’t had an erection on his own in years, decades even, but was now starting to feel some blood rushing to his crotch like a miracle. And yet, there was a voice, a moral voice deep inside of him that told him to resist, and so he said, “I shouldn’t. Maybe I can just come back another time.”

“Mr. Fredrickson,” she said, “you will listen to me because I am your doctor.” She went up to him rather aggressively, ripping the rest of her blouse off before going back to massaging her tits, still jiggling from the rough movements. She stood between him and the door. “And if you won’t take your cock out, I’ll have to take it out for you,” she said as her hands dropped down to his pleated pants, worked the zipper, and found a semi-erect penis, which she quickly fished out and started pumping.

“If you insist, Doctor,” he said. He was relaxing more now.

She looked him in the eye while still pumping his shaft. It was still not fully erect, but there was definitely blood rushing in, and she said, “Does this look dysfunctional to you?” She held it up and he looked down, but only stared at her funbags.

“No, Doctor.”

She leaned in close. She brought her hand up and licked it, before bringing down her moist hand to pump him harder. “Doctor what?”

“Doctor… Sanders,” he said through moans.

“Good boy.” The pumping motion had caused one of her tits to completely fall out of the shelf of her bra, and he reached for it, but she slapped it away. “Mr. Fredrickson,” she said, sounding slightly offended, “I am your doctor and you can’t just touch me,” before adding, “unless of course it would help with your treatment.”

“Oh, it would.” He was nodding his head vigorously. “It really would.”

She pressed her arms together to emphasize her deep cleavage and said, “Then by all means, Mr. Fredrickson, I’m here to make you feel all better.” He went to town, pulling out her tits, squeezing them, before getting brave and putting one in his mouth, licking back and forth. She squirmed, moaned, and orgasmed from the pleasure as all of her senses had become exponentially stronger, and she was lost in ecstasy until he finally released her.

She looked down at his mildly erect cock. “I think we can do better than that.” She sank to her knees, her eyes filled with crazy lust and her hair falling out of its bun. She wasted no time, slurping and gagging herself all the way down on his cock over and over and over and over again, desperate to be filled.

She couldn’t take it anymore and hiked her skirt all the way up to her waist and tore off her panties so she could finger fuck herself while she continuously slammed herself onto his cock. He grabbed onto the back of her hair, forcing her down, causing her to orgasm once again. She was practically leaking onto the ground and screaming in pleasure.

“I—I—I really think it might help my problem if you let me put my penis inside of your vagina,” he said, still trying to sound as medical as possible, desperate not to break whatever illusion she had been placed under.

She instantly turned around, arching her back, sticking her large ass in the air and planting her face into the ground into a puddle of her own juices, which she promptly licked up. “Please just fuck me. I need to be filled. I need to be used.”

He grabbed onto her hips, placed himself at her entrance and proclaimed to the world, “You did it, Dr. Sanders, I’m hard again!” He gave her ass a hard spank, causing her to moan, before burying himself deep inside of her, slamming her cheeks back into his hips. She moaned in ecstasy, tongue falling out of her mouth, drooling onto the ground.

* * *

Nick finished his bite of salmon, and his head stopped hurting. “I guess I was just hungry,” he said to himself as he went to take a shower and get ready for bed.

* * *

“GIVE US SUSTENANCE!”

There was that voice again, except this time it nearly knocked Nick out of bed at 6:30 in the morning. “Look buddy, I know I’m going crazy and I know that I’m dying and that’s fine, but if you’re going to speak to me, could you at least wait till I’ve had my eight hours? Sleep is like,” Nick thought about all the things he enjoyed—it wasn’t a lot: Dungeons and Dragons, anime, Lion King the musical (but not the movie)—“sleep is like my favorite thing in the world, probably one of the last four things I enjoy.”

“FOOOOOOOOD.”

So, after trying to sleep again for 30 minutes, Nick invariably stood up, went to the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. When he was done, the voice said, “FOOD.”

“Dammit.” He had really wanted to go back to bed since he still had work in the morning, but if this thing was going to keep yelling in his ear all night, he knew that would be impossible. Instead, he went onto his favorite porn site, turned on his VPN, and masturbated to Shadowheart from Baldur’s Gate 3. By the time he was done, it was time to go to work, so he put on his least wrinkled polo shirt, a pair of slacks, and headed out the door.

Now that it had been clarified to him that he was dying, he was finally starting to gain a better sense of the world around him, but that didn’t help him in understanding what his job was. It was some analytical data thing, but he never understood the purpose of putting numbers from one file into a different file. It paid well, though, and it wasn’t too hard. Not to mention, his best friend—and basically his only friend—CJ worked at the office with him. On occasion they would communicate, and one time CJ had even asked Nick what he was doing that weekend, although there was no follow-up question so it was impossible to know what his intentions were.

Unfortunately for Nick, that morning CJ was in conversation with a senior representative from HR and an HR intern because of reported sexual misconduct. Apparently CJ had attempted to sneak a hidden camera into the girls’ bathroom, but since he never got around to it, they couldn’t directly fire him. However, the company mandated that he still take courses with HR to better understand boundaries and respect.

Nick didn’t approve of his friend’s actions, but he figured people make mistakes all the time, and he couldn’t imagine having another coworker beside him that wasn’t CJ. He had never met someone as terrible at conversation as himself, and it would be a shame to lose that valuable asset, which made him feel not so alone in this world. So, inspired by that thought as well as an oncoming headache, which was starting to feel its way around Nick’s mind like an octopus trying to stretch around a small aquarium, he stopped in front of the HR door. He took a deep breath and opened it without knocking.

The HR office was pretty bland. There were posters of cats, which seemed to be the deciding theme of the room, two large desks in the back with expensive computers, and at the front there were a couple of brown couches which complemented the beige room. It was like having tranquility shot at you in the face. On the left-side couch were two beautiful women. The older one, about 30, had dark hair which went all the way down her back, blue eyes, and a pale complexion hidden underneath a knee-length skirt, a white button-up shirt, and a professional blouse. The one beside her, who Nick assumed was the intern, had brown skin, curly shoulder-length hair, and a colorful dress with all sorts of flower designs.

On the opposite couch was his friend CJ, who was wearing the same brown T-shirt and jeans that he wore every day. Nick one time thought of telling him that he was like a cartoon character because he dressed the same way every day, but in the years they had worked together, he had never found the right opportunity and figured it would be embarrassing now to point that out.

The older one, whose name tag said Savannah, spoke first. “Hello, Mr. Briarwood,” she said, confused. “Did we have an appointment today? We are a little busy right now.” She looked over at the younger intern who was vigorously taking notes, but looked up to say, “If you need to speak to us, I would be happy to schedule a time for you. Do you have any availability later today?” Her name tag said Abby.

CJ gave his friend the customary head nod and Nick gave him the head nod back, which caused his headache to increase even more. “No, sorry.” He started to close the door, but cursed himself and thought, Come on Nick, you’re better than that. Inspired by his own words, Nick threw the door open and said, “CJ is a good man!” before lowering his voice and saying, “Sorry, I just don’t want him to get fired. I’m sorry, he didn’t mean anything by it.”

For a while, everyone just stared at him, so he turned around and walked to his desk where he started typing one number from a file into another file.

* * *

“Love that guy,” CJ said.

“Yes, anyways,” Savannah said, “you do understand that if those deleted files had contained hours of footage of unconsenting women, you wouldn’t just be fired from this office; you would be facing felony charges in state and federal court.”

“Yeah, too bad there was nothing on the files, so we really can’t be sure, can we?” CJ had always been a very nervous person, especially when it came to talking to women, but he knew better than to admit to any wrongdoing. Even an apology would serve as an admittance of guilt, so he had to do his best to do what he’d never done and play it cool.

Savannah, for her part, was having a large amount of difficulty concealing her anger at having to speak with this pervert at all. The janitor had caught him after hours in the bathroom with a camera, but he claimed he was just taking mirror selfies in the girls’ bathroom because it had better lighting before taking out the SD card and crushing it under his foot. They had his desk searched but weren’t able to find anything else. These HR meetings were as close as they would get to any sort of punishment, but she figured if she could get him to admit any sort of guilt, they would have enough to at least get him out of the company, if not into a jail cell.

Abby was disgusted as well, but she was also genuinely excited to see Savannah in action. In the world of human resources, Savannah was as close as you could get to a celebrity, as she often came by the university to give lectures which had blown the whole class away. Not a single person studying human resources wanted their internship to be with anyone else, but Abby had been handpicked for a reason, as she had a distinct knack for bettering communication between employees and upper management—at least, that’s what the tests were indicating.

“Listen, CJ,” spoke the young intern, “I know we haven’t known each other a long time, but you strike me as a genuinely kind and caring person, but kind and caring people make mistakes all of the time.” CJ thought back to middle school when he had handwritten valentines for every person in his class so that nobody would feel left out. “No one is accusing you of anything, but if this was a mistake, something you feel even the slightest hint of guilt about, the only way to move forward is to admit what went wrong and then grow from that.”

Savannah looked at her young intern with genuine pride. She had grown so much in just the last few months. She was sure that one day Abby would be working at a Fortune 500 company, making sure that employees are treated like humans instead of expendable resources. She could see a look of confusion on CJ, and she knew that if they played their cards right, they could get him to confess right here, right now.

“Abby’s right. Everyone has done things they regret. For example, I don’t make my bed in the morning, or how I don’t tip at Starbucks, or how I’ll sometimes post my nude pictures online because I like the thrill of having random guys compliment my body.” She was sure that would do it. If she could be that open with her patient, then there was no way that he wouldn’t return the favor. She started to feel a warm sensation between her legs at the thought of those sexy pictures of herself, which she posted about once a week.

“Umm, sexy pictures?” CJ asked. He could genuinely feel the guilt in his brain being eaten up by the arousing thoughts of this sexy human resources representative posing nude for strangers on the internet.

Abby tried her best to get them back on track, but Savannah spoke first. “Yes, but like I said, I regret taking these pictures. Sure, there’s a bit of a thrill to bend over and use my hands to spread my butt cheeks in the MILF Gone Wild subreddit, but admitting it and being honest with ourselves is the first step.” Savannah genuinely smiled. She didn’t expect to also free herself from some of her demons in the session, but that was one of the benefits of working in human resources.

Abby couldn’t comprehend what was happening; she reasoned that this must be some sort of new strategy. “I believe what Savannah is trying to say is that examples like the ones she gave you sound unreasonable, but really they happen every day. And even though, of course, she would never actually post pictures like that, it still feels good to admit. Isn’t that right, Savannah?”

“No. I’m being perfectly honest.”

CJ couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Could it be true that his perfectly proper representative had such a wild side, and if it was true, why would she be revealing that information to him of all people?

Abby could see that Savannah looked a bit distracted now, so she tried to pounce on the case before they let this opportunity slip from their hands. “So is there something you want to be honest with us about?” Her fingers betrayed her as the pen in her hand tapped rapidly on her note-taking paper. She was nervous, but there was also something else there that she hadn’t quite put into words yet.

“I am ready to be honest,” CJ said, “but it feels weird being honest when so far only Savannah has been perfectly clear with me.”

Abby scoffed. Of course this pervert wanted her to talk about her sexual secrets so openly. “I am not the subject of this meeting,” she said with a tough stare that she had been working on since she had started rejecting boys.

Savannah followed up in her defense, “Abby. How can we expect Mr. CJ to open up to us when we are so closed off to him?”

When did we start referring to him as Mr. CJ? Abby thought. Before she continued, “But—I mean—” a part of her brain wanted to deny her mentor, but she had taken this internship for a reason, and there was a strange feeling in her head that was making her feel kind of fuzzy. “So what? I say one thing and you’ll admit your wrongdoing?”

CJ seemed more genuinely interested now in the conversation, sitting up slightly. He wanted to keep his cool, but it felt as if a miracle was playing out in front of him. The HR reps took note of his interest and change in body language and assumed it was because of their good work. “It would certainly help,” CJ said.

“Okay.” Abby looked nervous, like a college student instead of the competent professional she had embodied since her first day in the office. “I, I—have a sex toy that I carry around with me. It makes me feel dirty to have it.” She exhaled and said, “There, now it’s your turn.” Savannah, surprised by the admission by her young intern, looked towards her bag and wondered what exactly was hidden in there.

CJ cleared his throat. “Well, if what you—you—you guys are accusing me of is true, then my secret would have to be something pretty serious.”

“It is serious, you pervert,” Savannah said. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from.” She was normally much more reserved, so she scolded herself internally.

“No, it’s okay. I agree, it would be serious,” CJ continued. “But if it is that serious, then I might need more from each of you to really prove that trust.”

Savannah moved quickly, her instinct as a professional taking over, and she unlocked her phone, tapping a few buttons before flipping it over to CJ. The picture showed her in some high-cut, yellow lace lingerie. She was in a bathroom with her ass on top of the sink, legs spread wide, head over her shoulder with the phone barely covering her face so that her identity remained hidden to anyone who might stumble onto the naughty picture. She had one strap of the bra down her shoulder, allowing a bit more of her breast to show over the shelf of the bra.

“This is a picture I took yesterday,” she said. “I also will sometimes go on those anonymous random video chat rooms so me and the stranger can masturbate at the same time.” She started to feel rather hot and started undoing some of the buttons of her blouse and fanning her lapel. It felt really good to get some of this off her chest. Abby was quick to follow in her mentor’s footsteps as she reached into her purse and pulled out a large purple dildo. She looked ashamed as she said, “I have a bit of an oral fixation, so I carry this dildo with me because it feels good to have in my mouth during long drives.” As she talked, the rubbery phallic object got closer and closer to her mouth until it was resting under her chin.

CJ could almost laugh at the sight in front of him. Minutes ago this counselor seemed ready to kill him, and now she was openly showing him pictures of her in sexy lingerie, while the intern was struggling not to put a large dildo in her mouth. He started to wonder how far he could push this.

“Well ladies,” he said more confidently than he had ever felt, “I think what we’re doing right here, right now, is very important as a trust-building exercise. Wouldn’t you both agree?” Savannah nodded while scrolling through more naughty pictures as her other hand undid some more buttons, revealing her bra. Abby responded and said, “I guesh sho,” though it was difficult to understand her around the dildo she had shoved a couple inches into her mouth. “Well then—”

* * *

As he spoke, Nick Briarwood was in the break room. His head was pounding, and though he could assume it was the large tumor in his head, another part of himself also thought it might be because his friend was in trouble. Like some sort of spider sense. So, in order to best help his friend, he devised a plan more devious than he thought possible. He even let out a little giggle, which startled his fellow coworkers in the break room. He walked over to the microwave and put in a metal spoon.

* * *

Before CJ could summon the maximum courage to finish a sentence, the fire alarm rang. The dildo went into the purse, the lingerie phone was put away, and the girls seemed to snap out of whatever stupor they had been in as their horniness was replaced by possibly the only instinct in the human body stronger: the need to survive. They ran out of the room and CJ, confused, horny, and harder than ever, wondered what crazy thing was going on behind the scenes to almost make his fantasies come true, and what he could do tomorrow to keep up the process. He slowly walked out of the building as the firefighters arrived only to find a spoon in the microwave.

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