Jane was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate today.  It seemed like her nipples were, well, like they were being gently caressed with the finest silk.  As a result they stood at attention, as if paying homage to whatever woke them.  Her clit had decided to join the crowd today, as it poked its head above the trench it was in. Unfortunately, that head kept getting brushed as she moved.  It had started to break down the formidable resistance that Jane had put up against such sensations.

"Enough!", Jane said aloud... almost too loud.  She headed to the bathroom, where she removed her dress.  Her relief was visible after removing her bra and panties.  Finally, her body could get some relief from the relentless attention her clothing was doting upon her.  Still, she was too embarrassed to relieve herself in a public washroom, so she did the only other thing she could do.  She thought that, perhaps, she could wear her dress, sans underwear.  Hopefully this would give her the relief she desired.

She tucked her bra and panties into a ball with her hand, and exited the washroom headed in a bee line for her desk.  At the half way point, she realized that perhaps this wasn't the best idea after all.  Her breasts seemed a little puffy today, and her dress seemed to be sliding all over her nipples and almost teasing the underside of her breasts.  Somehow, her dress had managed to hang in a way that constantly flicked her clit with each step.  "Is that a seam doing that?!", she thought.  She was *far* better off with her underwear on, no matter how uncomfortable she was.

As she shakily turned around, to return to the bathroom, she almost ran directly into John.

"Orson needs to see us right away, Jane!", and he grabbed her arm and started to whisk her down the hall.  Sharp, blistering arousal ensued, as her clit was mercilessly tantalized by the seam of her rebellious dress.  Her nipples turned to concrete, her breasts into zones of luscious pleasure, her thighs steamed as fabric washed over them.  Any attempt at resistance to John's slight pull was lost, as her mind tried to make sense out of the rampant arousal that attacked her composure.

As they neared Orson's office, Jane remembered her underthings.  Luckily John had not noticed them, as they were in her opposing hand, hidden from his view.  Orson's secretary was in his office, leaving the foyer waste bin free for her to throw her bra and panties in as she passed.

"That's one embarrassment averted", she shakily thought.

Suddenly, she was in Orson's office.  Her face was flushed, her nipples erect, and the sensations she had experience on her forced walk were still peaking.  Just for a moment, she was sure she was going to orgasm, but it dissolved like cotton candy.



"We have problems!", shouted Orson Bernstone.  "Our company has been accused of theft!  Blythes, Inc has warned that something called 'Male Pheromone Binder' was stolen from their company, and by one of us!".

Jane's mind was spinning.  _Male_ pheromone binder?!  It was all starting to make sense.  No wonder a few women had given her strange looks today.  No wonder she was so aroused.

After Orson ended his storming session, she emerged from his office a bit panicky.  Even worse, the garbage man had been and gone, and her unmentionables were probably being mentioned to the maintenance staff even as she pondered her distressing predicament.

After gingerly and gently making her way back to her desk, she decided  she would spend the rest of the afternoon going over the documentation for the binder. .

What she discovered, unfortunately, was not good.  She had indeed doused herself in the male version of the binder.  As Joe had mentioned, the binder seemed to last at least a year, if not longer.  Blythes had found no way to remove it, as of yet, or mitigate its effects.

She was trapped.  

Trapped in a cycle of never ending arousal.  Trapped without the ability to prevent the effects from increasing as the next few weeks progressed, as she became sexually addicted to her own pheromones.  Trapped for an indeterminate period of time, as this substance had already lasted for a year on a chimp.  She had mistakenly picked up the version of the substance that was to be used BY males, to attract females.  She was being hopelessly conditioned to be unbearably aroused by her own scent.

As Jane sat at her desk, her clit throbbing, her nipples tingling, she wondered why her discovery seemed to arouse her all the more.  Some part of her, some dark and deep part, was enjoying her predicament.