Her life is going to have to change...

Caroline was sat down, facing her husband, Ryan, and her politic advisor Sam. Her hands were shaking.

“So. What does this mean?” she said.

“There’s never been a politician of any repute with AGS,” Sam said. “How could there be? If you’re in a negotiation, someone just needs to tell you to give them everything they want, and you will. If you’re in a debate, your opponent just needs to tell you what they think, and you’ll agree. It means you can’t do your job.”

“It can’t be over,” Ryan said. “Not like that. Not like it’s anything new for a politician to change their minds.”

“We usually get paid more first,” Caroline said.

“No, it’s not over,” Sam said. “But only so long as we don’t go public with this. We keep her condition secret, between the three of us, and no one will know. The test was home-administered, right?”

“Of course, we’re not amateurs,” Caroline snapped. “So we just keep it secret?”

Sam nervously tugged on the neck of his shirt.

“Not exactly,” he said. “You know what AGS means, right?”

“I’m not an idiot,” Caroline said. “But it can’t be that bad, I’m not some slut at the gas station who just wants an excuse, I’m not going to spread my legs just because someone asks.”

Sam loosened his tie. Ryan looked between them awkwardly.

“It isn’t an excuse,” Sam said. “The condition is… absolute. If someone asks you to, ahem, service them, you will without a second thought.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Caroline said.

Sam hesitated. Then he looked at Ryan, as if to ask for his permission. Conflicted, Ryan nodded.

“Do it,” Ryan said.

“Alright,” Sam said.

“What?” Caroline said.

“You’re going to die in a minute if you don’t strip right now,” Sam said matter-of-factly. Caroline screamed.

Immediately she was tearing at her dress, not caring that the formal red was one of her favorites, instantly terrified. She yanked the straps, tore them, stepping out of the shreds while she was getting rid of bra and panties.

Until finally she was naked, kicking off her shoes and blushing, crossing her arms over her remarkably firm D-cup tits and fidgeting on the spot as she looked at the two of them.

“Is that it? Am I okay?” Caroline said.

“You always were,” Sam said.

“What? But… oh shit,” Caroline said.

She looked down at the tattered remains of her dress. She sat down again and crossed her legs, for the first time really listening to the two of them.

“You’re going to do things like that,” Ryan said sadly. “It’s inevitable, I’ve heard. Every woman with AGS becomes a cock-hungry slut.”

“Darling, I would never!” Caroline said. Then she looked at herself. “I suppose I don’t have a choice.”

“Which means we have to plan for it, rather than praying it never happens,” Sam said. “So what’s important is that people think the MILF whoring it up out there is who you really are, and not just because you have AGS.”

“What?!” Caroline said.

“We’ve talked it over,” Ryan said. “It’s the only way.”

“We think you need to be a slut,” Sam said. Ryan looked away.

“I’m sorry dear,” Ryan said.

Caroline looked incredulously between them. She’d wanted to be part of politics her whole life, and now if she was to have any hope… She’d need to hide the fact she had AGS and make sure everything she was made to do because of AGS seemed like something she would do already.

“There is something we can do to make it easier,” Sam said. “Only if you want. If we tell you now that you’re a needy whore who craves cock and pussy and cum and loves to show her body off to strangers and friends like and be fucked, then you’ll believe it, and you’ll at least enjoy your new life. If you want that.”

Caroline stared. Hearing it put like that…

Could she do it? She’d need to act like that either way, but could she really give up who she was just to make it easier?

This couldn’t be happening.