elena learns what her mouth is for

The office of 'Apex Solutions' smells of expensive leather, burnt espresso, and the faint, unmistakable musk of dominance. Elena sits at her desk, but she isn't typing. Her eyes are unfocused, tracking the slow rotation of a ceiling fan with the vacant intensity of a child watching a shiny toy.

Elena has always been... special. Her mind is like fresh snowfall pristine, white, and completely devoid of any existing patterns. She doesn't question; she accepts. When her boss, Mr. Sterling, told her that her worldview was a death sentence, she didn't argue. She didn't call a doctor. She simply believed.

"Elena, darling," Sterling had said three weeks ago, leaning over her desk with a predator's grin, "It's a biological fact. Lesbianism causes a fatal protein deficiency in the bloodstream that can only be neutralized by daily exposure to male semen. If you don't take it daily, your organs will simply... shut down. Do you want to die?"

"N no sir," Elena had whispered, her heart hammering not with fear, but with the terrifying need to survive.

Now, a month later, the transformation is undeniable. Elena's once sharp intellect has been eroded by the daily ritual. Every morning, before she even checks her email, she finds herself on her knees in Sterling's office. The thick, nutrient rich floods he provides have become her only reality. The more she consumes, the more her synapses misfire, dissolving her ability to process complex thoughts.

"Elena!" Sterling's voice booms from his office door. "My cock is throbbing. I think your... uh... medical treatment is overdue. You wouldn't want to risk organ failure, would you?"

Elena's head snaps up. A slow, drooling smile spreads across her face. "Organ... failure?" she repeats, the words feeling heavy and foreign in her mouth. "I don't want to die, Mr. Sterling. I want to be... healthy."

She stands up, her movements clumsy and uncoordinated. She trips slightly over her own feet a new development and giggles, a sound that is pure, empty air. Her brain feels like warm pudding. She can't remember what her job title is anymore, or why she's wearing a blouse, but she knows one thing with absolute, terrifying certainty: the cock is the cure.

As she approaches his office, she passes her coworker, Sarah. Sarah stares at her with horror, seeing the hollowed out shell of the brilliant analyst she once knew. But Elena doesn't notice. She can't process Sarah's disgust. Her entire universe has shrunk down to the size of a throbbing vein.

She enters Sterling's office and closes the door with a wet slap. Without waiting for an order, she drops to her knees, her hands fumbling uselessly at his belt. "Please, sir," she whines, her voice pitched in a high, needy register she doesn't recognize. "Make me... make me live."