Better start masturbating into that cup

With a sigh of defeat you begin to jerk off with your free hand, pointing your cock into the cup. Despite your stiffness you can't seem to manage to cum, at least, not in the timeframe Dr. Klein is expecting you to do it in, her foot tapping impatiently as she looks from you to her watch and then back to you. The guard at the door shuffles their body, rolling their shoulder as they awkwardly look everywhere but in your direction. After a few minutes of silence broken only by fapping, Dr. Klein grunts.

"Oh for crying out loud- we got a shy one here." She swats your hand away from your cock and grabs it herself, again, and proceeds to give you one of the most coldly professional yet strangly erotic handjobs you've ever had, like a person behind schedule that still wants to their job properly; roughly, with experience, but quickly, up and down from the base to the hood in broad strokes. With her at the joystick you're left cumming in seconds, groaning and shooting a healthy load into the cup in a series of pulsing hot ropes. She backs off as you cum, smirking under her mask. You fill around a third of the cup with sticky white, albeit a little runny, goodness. Without a word you hand her the cup, a streak running off the side, gasping little breaths between your normal ones. She lifts it up and holds it up to the light.

"Hmmm... seems normal to me." She puts a tab in the cum, something similar to an ear thermometer. It dings with a green light after a few moments. "You're clean. Sorry about the rough treatment." She turns away from you before pulling her mask down. She raises the cup and quaffs the cum down in one go, sticking her tongue in to lick up the last remainder. She sighs in contentment, wipes her mouth with her forearm, pulls her mask back up, and then tosses the cup away into a green bio-waste bin. "You'll be taken on further without me," she says, before coming in close to whisper in your ear and clutching one of your buttcheeks, "but if you ever feel like you require another 'examination' you know where to come, eheh. I hope you do, I just love your... scent." She gives your arse a few tight squeezes as she wipes her nose against your skin, breathing in heavily before letting go and walking away with a flirtatious look in her eye. "Now if you could get dressed and be on your way please, not all of us can afford to stand around doing nothing all day."

After hastily redressing the guard takes you through a short chain link tunnel serving as another checkpoint, where you're given a metal bracelet with a couple of white notches. Apparently that signifies you're an uninfected civilian. Finally, after what seemed like forever, you're let into the compounded downtown... and it looks bleaker than you thought it would be. There are other people just like you, loitering around in ragged dirty clothing. Most look weak, underfed, but at least they're safe here... for now. There are armed figures standing around here and there, keeping watch for any possible signs of infection, ready to shoot to kill to stop it in it's tracks. The still standing yet ramshackle buildings on both sides of the street show signs of being inhabited, but even still most of the doors and windows are boarded up, and the occasional alleyways between buildings barricaded or fenced off. This part of town has seen better days.

It seems that whoever runs this place has set up headquarters in the tube station. It's one of the tube stations on the outskirts of London, so it is overground, not underground, though still it provides a decent defensible point. There is also a nearby Tesco supermarket that seems to be where most of the citizens are holing up, like one big boarding house. You doubt there's much left there, but it never hurts to take a look.