Caught and converted...

The zombies are rapidly converting everyone in the office. You too are only fodder for the ever-growing horde. A topless zombie with short red hair catches your arm, and, with a minimum of fanfare, the infected grasps your head in her hands and pulls it to hers with an unceremonious and ungraceful motion, pushing your faces together, tilting her head to lock your mouth in a **** french kiss. You barely have time to protest as she plunges her cold tongue deep into your mouth, its unnatural length probing your own tongue before slithering down your throat. You gag a little, but it's okay; the virus works its magic on you very quickly, and shortly, a wave of numbness and warmth ripples through your body. Any thoughts you had of resisting instantly evaporate as a wet patch forms between your legs.

You don't really have many thoughts inside your head right now at all. Everything is going fuzzier and fuzzier, and you're so aroused and so horny - you're being kissed, so it's only right to kiss back, right? You gaze into the abyss of her white, pupilless eyes, so plain and empty - so devoid of everything but all-consuming hunger. You shut your eyelids as you reciprocate the other woman's tongue in your mouth, moaning a little in the wonderful haze of desire.

A desire for pleasure. A desire to be subsumed. A desire to join her.

A hand gropes your butt, while the other wraps around you in a hugging position, pulling you closer to her body. The seconds feel like eternity in her arms. The only thing you want is whatever she wants, for you. And in the depths of your mental fog, your left hand finds its way between your legs. Your fingers stroke away at the cloth of your panties, already soaked through with arousal. Even through the soiled fabric, each motion that brushes against your labia and clit fills your groin with electric sparks of overwhelming pleasure. Your last moments feel like eternity, like hours upon hours of agonizing teasing, as if you were living in slow motion, as you silently beg to please finally cum so that you won't have to suffer this **** any longer and you can at long long last be free of all those pesky things that get in the way of more pleasure like "will" and "thoughts" and "student loans" and it takes far too long but then you feel it come - sweet, heavenly release.

Your legs fail as the best, and last, orgasm of your life crashes through your body, your pussy spraying its approval by the gallon. Your toes curl, your eyes roll back, and your hands clench as your brain goes totally blank, and never, ever recovers. The changes begin from your crotch and quickly spread to the rest of your flesh, with your skin changing color to a pale, deathly blue. The zombified flesh gradually takes over every part of you, and eventually, catches up to your brain. You don't even notice, being far too wrapped up in the throes of bliss, as the infection breaks down your brain matter, destroying your personality and memories, chunk by chunk. It is no longer necessary for your new life.

When your eyes open, they are white, and empty, and blank. The other zombie breaks her kiss, a final smooching sound coming out as you separate mouths. A strand of drool links your lips. Her body shudders in pleasure, a reward for a successful conversion. You don't really acknowledge her much any more, your newly atrophied, zombified mind having very little interest in anything other than warm, human bodies in need of infection. Your heart no longer beats; your brain no longer thinks; the warmth drains from your meat. Welcome to your unlife.