Observe the "serum's" creation

He walked over to the door, and with a loud clank, sealed it shut. He always did this when the virus was about to be introduced into me. He walked to the head of the table as I slipped my wrists into the leather restraints. He tightened them, as he had done a hundred times, as I slipped my feet into the ankle restraints.

"What is this examination for, Doctor? I asked as he tightened first my left, then my right ankle with a cool, wicked grin on his fat face. The cold metal table was uncomfortable, as were the faded black leather restraints. I became embarrassingly aware that I had let myself get strapped down before even asking him why. At this point, with the door sealed shut and me in the straps, he pretty much had free reign over me...

"This isn't so much an examination as an observation. If I am to find a cure, I need the freshest sample of the virus interacting with your antibodies I can get." He said whilst moving to the back of the room. To the OTHER locked door. The one with the blood-smeared window that he kept his "test subjects" behind. I knew what he was planning at that moment. I bared my teeth.

"You sonuvabitch! I won't do it!" I said, pulling against the restraints.

"My dear. What choice do we have? I MUST observe the antibodies at work." he said meekly. Yeah, I'm sure that is what he wanted to observe. I bit my tongue as he suited up. He sat up a sectioned plexiglass wall leading to the exam table on either side that ran the length of the exam room. He was behind the section that led to the door. I lay my head back, and waited.

The door hissed open. Within it: darkness. And meat. These weren't even close to being alive. They'd been turned months ago, the transformation from Infected to Walking Dead complete. The odor wafted out of the room first, followed by the low moans. The disgusting shuffle of dragging feet filled my ears as they came down the narrow corridor.

"Did you have to let all three out, you asshole?" I screamed through the plexiglass as I felt the first one climb onto the exam table. I opened my eyes and saw the hollow right socket, the broken jaw, the putrid, gray flesh drawn back in a grimace of ****. Its thick, leaking member touched my thigh and used it as a guide to get between my legs. I turned my head and opened my mouth so the fat hillbilly who had lost his right arm and still had his guts hanging out wouldn't break my jaw. He jabbed his short, fat cock at my mouth and hit my chin six times before finding my guiding tongue. The other one groaned and tried to slide underneath me, but the restraints kept me in place.

I felt the one on top of me find my pussy, and I winced as his rotten member slid into me. I always attract and despise the really decayed ones the most, but my pussy virtually erupted in fluid in response. Within seconds the wet liquid slap of sex filled the narrow plexiglass corridor as my cunt pulsed and clamped and rippled with pleasure. I started bobbing my head faster and faster on the little fat cock in my mouth, eagerly slurping down the lukewarm, chunky cum that constantly leaked from it as it violently pounded at my face.

If I wished the doctor would explain one thing, it was why I got so fucking horny with these things. I hated myself for it, but as I came again and again on that examination table under not one, or even two, but three undead cocks; I have to admit: I didn't care much at the time.

It only took twenty minutes. My red hair was plastered with cum. My pussy throbbed as I crammed my fingers in and out of it. They were all on the floor, convulsing for the last time; my antibodies destroying the virus inside of them. I was riding the last wave of my intoxications back into myself, my fingers pressed firmly in, my toes curled hard...

When the alarm went off.