Agent Hooters Visits the Doctor Ch. 02

NOTE: I've been a fan of George Tasker's pulpy, over-the-top styled stories. He's kindly given me permission to write a story set in one of his universes, using his Agent Hooter and Agent Slut characters. The gist of the below story came to me in a dream and I felt obliged to write it and flesh it out. But this quick two-parter isn't slowing me down from completing the Six Times a Day series. Thanks a lot, George!

Thoughts are marked with italics. Thanks to DD, Dhin, and OmegaZone for proofreading. This is a very fantastical story and should have no relation to the treatment or behavior of women in real life.

The middle-aged Doctor Johnson sat in his office, talking with a teenaged patient named Thomas. Although Thomas had come in so the doctor could look at a fungal infection on his foot, that wasn't what the two of them were discussing. They were discussing the patient with the curious name of Agent Hooters. The doctor explained that not only did she look exactly like Anna Nicole Smith, but she was willing to engage in sex on the flimsiest of excuses. She'd been so sexually willing that she'd quickly wore the elder doctor out, so he was turning to the teenaged patient, Thomas, for help. The slightly nerdy and completely inexperienced teen could scarcely believe his luck and of course agreed to do his best to sexually satisfy their bosomy patient.

The doctor was just finishing an explanation of everything that had happened so far in his office that morning to an extremely surprised Thomas when Debbie, the doctor's cute, spiky blonde-haired nurse, came in.

"Doctor! You won't believe it. Today is your lucky day."

The doctor smiled, glad that his nurse was at least tolerating his behavior. "Don't I know it?!" He winked at Thomas. "Can you believe this Miss Hooters? She's just about the most..."

The nurse interrupted. "I know, I know. But I'm not talking about her. There's another woman in the waiting room who's practically her double! She must be the one Miss Hooters called a short time ago. The one she called Agent Slut."

"'Agent Slut?'" The doctor stood up in a flash. He put his hand over his heart. "I DID hear that correctly when I overheard her call! Be still my beating heart. What a day! Debbie, is she as beautiful as Miss Hooters?"

Debbie wasn't happy to be asked to judge another woman's beauty. In fact, she was extremely uncomfortable with just about everything that had happened from the moment this "Hooters" woman had walked into the doctor's office several hours earlier, but she'd been essentially bought off by the doctor with the promise of a quick raise. She said as grudgingly and derisively as she could, "I suppose if big tits, long blonde hair, tanned skin, and an overall 'fuck me now' bimbo look is your idea of beautiful, then she's very beautiful."

But despite this tone, had Debbie been pressed she would have had to admit that this new patient, Miss Slut, was just about the most gorgeous woman she'd ever seen, equaled only by Miss Hooters. The nurse was more than a little bit jealous, as she'd always been proud of her C cup breasts, but no one paid the slightest attention to those if she stood near Miss Hooters or Slut.

Doctor Johnson rubbed his hands together in glee and gave Thomas another wink. "You see, Thomas? TWO long haired blonde, bodacious babes? … Wow. I never thought I'd actually use the word bodacious in a sentence to refer to someone I actually know. You see why I need your help? Are you up for this?"

Debbie spoke before Thomas could. "Her name is Slut, for crying out loud! What kind of woman has the name ‘Slut'?" She was indignant and frustrated.

Doctor Johnson answered sensibly but with a sense of humor, "Why, I do believe a slut would have such a name. What do you think, Thomas?"

Thomas was shy and nervous, but he couldn't help but smile. "I think you're right, sir."

"Of course I'm right. And by the way that's some kind of code name because I happen to know she works for a very top secret intelligence agency not far from here. That's why we weren't told her first name and it isn't even on the medical records we were given. Always call her Miss Slut and not Agent Slut, and the same goes with Miss Hooters. Let me just take some more of my heart medication here because looking at this Miss Slut for the first time no doubt is going to be another severe test for this weak heart of mine. What a day so far, and apparently it's just begun. I can hardly wait!"

Debbie rolled her eyes and put on her most contemptuous frown.

***

Meanwhile, Trish Stratus, a.k.a. Agent Slut, stood in the doctor's waiting room, tapping her toes impatiently. She was dressed in a skin-tight black leather jumpsuit that she'd been using during a training exercise earlier in the day. Agent Hooters had called her and told her to come to the doctor's office right away, so she didn't have time to change into something more presentable. The jumpsuit was so tight that she had to keep the zipper down her front unzipped all the way to her belly button so her giant tits wouldn't get squeezed too tightly. The black all over drew all eyes to the one exposed area: her cavernous cleavage. It seemed that back at the secret agency, she and Agent Hooters always had the problem of being given outfits that were far too small for them.

Funnily enough, Agent Hooters had the same problem at that very moment. She was dressed in a child-sized hospital gown that utterly failed to cover up any of her private parts. There was a little piece of pale blue fabric buried deep in her cleavage and then widening out to cover up some of her stomach before running out of fabric long before reaching the top of her blonde bush. A few spaghetti straps connected that to another piece of fabric that covered up most of her back but just failed to reach the top of her ass.

Peeking out of her room, she spied Agent Slut out in the waiting room and rushed out to greet her. "Trish!" she said excitedly as she rushed across the room and gave her friend a big hug.

Agent Slut hugged back, tentatively, but she looked past her friend and eyed the patients in the waiting room. "Hi, Miss Hooters. Please call me Miss Slut when we're in public, like right now. Remember that we don't want to use first names or the A word." She meant the word "Agent." She nervously looked around the room, very aware they were in a public place. The collision of Hooters' tremendous tits into her own remarkable rack strained her tight jumpsuit to the breaking point and caused her boobs to spill out and then rebound into Hooters' tits, resulting in a mammoth tit flesh earthquake as the collision continued to ripple.

Slut eyed all the strangers staring at her and Hooters hugging (the strangers' eyes all bounced up and down in time to the four tits slowly returning to rest). There was an old and chubby man with his equally aged and frumpy wife. Two young children sat with a middle-aged soccer mom-type, and she held her children's hands. Another middle-aged woman, black and perhaps a bit younger than the other, sat with a very young daughter. A thirty-something nerdy type with a broken arm sat alone. A short man in his seventies if not eighties also sat alone. Almost without exception, their eyes stared in wide wonder and their mouths gaped open at the jiggly display before them.

Agent Hooters was less fazed by the reactions because she'd seen those same reactions when she'd come into the waiting room in her same state of near nakedness to make a phone call just a short time earlier. Now, however, the strangers looked even more astonished.

"Quick. Come into my room," Hooters suggested, uncomfortable with all the eyes going a few steps beyond merely mentally undressing her. She pulled on Slut's arm, and the two of them soon found themselves in Hooters' examination room. She said, "Thanks so much for coming, Trish. Believe me; you'll be glad you did. You and I were THIS CLOSE to losing our minds!" Hooters held two fingers very close together to illustrate the "THIS CLOSE" comment.

"What are you talking about, Anna? You're babbling."

"No. It's really serious. The good doctor, Doctor Johnson, he says I have a very rare disease called nipplitis, or nipplosis, or something. It means too much female hormone. Women who have it get big tits, wide hips, and an overactive sex drive. You'll GO INSANE if you don't treat it! Luckily though, the cure isn't bad at all: you need more male hormone to match up. It turns out semen is the perfect cure."

Agent Slut was extremely skeptical. She wasn't necessarily any smarter or less gullible than Agent Hooters, but having the whole scenario explained bluntly was much different than the way Doctor Johnson slowly broke the idea to Hooters. Seeing Hooters tell it while dressed in a ridiculously undersized hospital gown with her tits hanging out in every direction didn't give Slut much faith in the doctor's trustworthiness.

Slut asked in a voice almost dripping with sarcasm, "I suppose the ‘good doctor' helped you out by giving you some of his own semen to help you get all better?"

Agent Hooters clapped her hands with glee, causing her twin orbs to shake and the gown helplessly trapped between them to rustle. "Oooh! What a good guess! How did you know?"

Slut put her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Anna, I hate to break it to you, but I don't think there's a disease called nipplitis, or whatever it is. We've talked before about how we let guys walk all over us. I think this is another example."

Agent Slut took a holier-than-thou attitude with Hooters, but in fact she'd just come from a "dressing down" back at intelligence agency headquarters. Thanks to her misunderstanding of that expression, she again found herself doing a striptease on top of table in front of a large crowd of both male and female agents. This tended to happen every time she made a mistake, or someone claimed she made a mistake. She was glad at least that she'd been called away before the obligatory spankings and blow jobs that always followed her striptease performances.

Hooters frowned. "You think it's a scam? Noooo... Wait. You're just saying that because you haven't seen the doctor. He's very trustworthy. And doesn't it freak you out to think these nipploids could be running around everywhere inside you? Oooh! Gross!"

Just then, Doctor Johnson came in. He tried to act casual as he looked at Agent Slut for the first time, but failed miserably. His eyes soaked in the lovely, skin-tight sight of Agent Slut's black jumpsuit. Naturally, his attention zoomed to the deep cleavage on display - Slut's front zipper was zipped so low that he could see more than a hint of nipple on each tit. He thought, Holy cow, those have to be at least Double D's! They're not as big as Agent Hooters', who has to wear an E if not an F bra size, but still. Wow! And that lovely tan and the tight black fabric; no way is she wearing a bra since I can see clear down to her cute little belly button. Hot. Scorching!

He eventually worked his way up to her face. Holy fucking cow! What a sultry face! Nice long blonde hair, but she's got even more of a "come hither and fuck me" face than Hooters does. I didn't think that was humanly possible! Why, she just looks like a total ... slut. ... Hey! I get it. Hooters has huge hooters and so that's her name. This woman is sluttiness personified, and so that's HER name. The Chief is a genius, if he's the one handing out the names. I wonder if I'll be able to fuck this one, too. … Calm down, now, calm down. Don't even think about it when your heart is beating this fast.

"HelloooOOOooo?" Agent Slut waved her hand in front of the doctor's face. She appeared irritated.

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. Hello. My name is Doctor Johnson. Miss Whore, I presume?" He held out his hand to shake Slut's, but she looked at his sweating palm and didn't want to touch it. However, politeness took over and she briefly grasped it. Truth be told, the doctor was sweating all over; while his mind had somewhat adjusted to the presence of Agent Hooters at least, his body had not. Just one look in Hooters' general direction, and now Slut's, and his heart pounded like he just ran a marathon.

"The name is Miss Slut," she answered, greatly annoyed at his mistake.

"Oh. Right. Sorry. I'm really bad at names."

She eyed the doctor in a way that made him nervous and almost afraid. Slut's act of reaching her hand out to shake caused both nipples to pop out of their skin-tight black leather prison, but unlike Hooters, she took the time to pop them back in.

He stammered, "Um, um, I, uh, you don't want us to know your first name? Is that correct?"

She turned to her friend and asked, "Is that what you told him, Anna?"

"Yes, Trish. That's what the Chief said to do."

The doctor almost cackled with joy on the inside as both of them used their first names while discussing if they should use their first names. Ha! Obviously this new one isn't exactly a rocket scientist either! Maybe they won't find me out after all.

Trish opened up the conversation. "Miss Hooters has been telling me some pretty incredible things. Something about a disease called nipplitis? I find this very hard to believe. And look at her thighs! They're covered in cum. What's going on here?"

The doctor gave the same explanation he gave Agent Hooters, which wasn't very convincing since he'd made the whole thing up on the spot earlier in the morning. He knew he'd need more support for the skeptical Slut, so he called in for reinforcements. He opened the door and shouted, "Debbie? Can you and Thomas come in here?"

His nurse, Debbie, walked in, followed by Thomas. The shy teenager Thomas had come into the doctor's office as a patient, but now he wore medical smocks just like Debbie and Doctor Johnson. Thomas was somewhat gangly and pimply, but overall he was fairly handsome and athletic.

Doctor Johnson, remembering how Agent Slut's nipples became exposed the last time he shook hands, motioned so that Slut had to shake hands with both Thomas and Debbie. Her nipples came out each time, and each time she covered them back up. Debbie again tried her best to act bored and even disgusted, but Thomas trembled all over and looked like he could faint dead away at any moment.

The doctor said, "Debbie? Thomas? What do you think about Miss Slut here? Could she be ill?"

Thomas, though shy and quick to blush on the outside, was actually quite brave once he put his mind to something. He spoke up, and said in a wavery voice, "Um, sir, I think she might have the nipples. Just like Agent Hooters. She has all the signs."

Agent Slut reacted testily. She unzipped her zipper dramatically, causing her tits to spring completely free of the tight black outfit. She heaved her tits in both hands and said, "Of course I have nipples! Can't you see them? Doctor, what kind of idiot assistant do you have who doesn't even know that all women have nipples?"

Thomas stammered, "No, miss. I meant the nipplitis. You know - the disease." His eyes remained wide because he noticed that Slut had unzipped her zipper all the way to the top of her dark bush. The outfit was so tight that she couldn't zip the zipper back up over the small, upper abdomen bulge below her belly button. Each attempt to pull it up caused her tits to bounce and heave in ways that made Thomas feel dizzy. Finally she gave up and stood with an arm attempting to cover her rack and mostly failing.

Debbie chimed in, though in the most bored and reluctant voice she could conjure. "Yes, doctor. I have to agree." She looked like she wanted to escape this silly charade, but duty kept her standing there and saying what the doctor wanted. She at least found it fascinating to look at the two patients with movie star looks, and their slutty antics were always amusing.

Agent Hooters was looking at Thomas strangely, and suddenly asked, "Wait a minute. Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Who? Me?" He shook like a leaf, but kept his head. "You probably saw me wandering around the office. Preparing things." He didn't want her to remember that he'd been a gawking patient dressed in street clothes and sitting in the waiting room not fifteen minutes ago.

"Yeah. That must be it," Hooters concluded. She sat back and a look of general disinterest returned to her face. She stared at her fingernails on one hand as if examining them for imperfections.

The doctor said to Agent Slut, "As you can see, these two agree with my tentative hypothesis. I'm almost positive you have nipplitis. Either Hooters infected you, or you infected her." Making a daring guess based on their sluttish behavior, he asked, "Have you two ever, ummm, engaged in lovemaking acts with each other?"

Agents Slut and Hooters looked up at each other and blushed. The red spread all the way down their necks. Hooters grumbled, "Yes, but it's not fair! I can't tell you the number of times Trish and I have been sent on missions together with only one sleeping bag. And there was that one time Jimbo got a hotel room with only one single bed for the three of us. What a jerk!" (She forgot that she wasn't supposed to mention intelligence terms like "missions" and also forgot the doctor wouldn't know who Jimbo was.)

But Agent Slut found the idea of such transmission plausible and for the first time she wondered if she might have really been infected by her friend. She thought, How could the doctor have known the stuff she and I have done? The male and female nurses respectively don't look like the types to lie. The doctor looks extremely respectable. His trimmed salt and pepper beard reminds me of that actor in that submarine movie. "The Hunt for Red November" or something. Actually, he's pretty handsome for an old geezer. He's got to be at least fifty. Pushing sixty, probably. Plus, he uses big words like "hypothesis." I have no idea what it means, but it sounds pretty medical. But still... This sounds pretty fishy. I mean, the doctor is getting free blow jobs out of it. I dunno…

She frowned, and the doctor picked up on her continued doubts right away (luckily, her tell tale frown coincided with one of the doctor's very rare glances up from her cleavage).

He said expansively, "Don't worry. You must be wondering who's going to administer the treatment today. I'm too old for that kind of thing. Happily, we happen to have my new male nurse, Thomas, who will be providing you with all the, uh, erm, curative fluid you'll need. Think you can handle that, kid?"

Thomas gulped and blushed. But he eked out, "I think so. Sir."

Agent Slut laughed on the inside. THAT kid? Why, he's harmless as a pussy cat. If all I have to worry about is this guy, then what's the problem? I suppose I can humor Anna just this once.

Agent Hooters looked at her friend with a near pleading in her eyes. "Trish? The nipploidians? Don't you want to get rid of them?"

Agent Slut bobbed her head back and forth indecisively as if uncertain to nod yes or no, then finally gave in. She still strongly doubted the nipplitis idea, but found herself saying, "I suppose..."

Doctor Johnson was so happy he pumped his fist into the air. Luckily Agents Slut and Hooters were looking at each other and didn't see. Debbie did and suppressed a snicker. The doctor thought,

He turned to Thomas. "Are you ready, son? Care to defeat the nipploids in Miss Slut? I think to be on the safe side, we should start with a blow job."

"Blow job?" Thomas, Debbie, and Agent Slut all said this at once, in shocked tones.

"That's right," the doctor said confidently. He knew the best way to carry this off was to sound decisive and convincing, even if the lingo was a bit crude.

Agent Slut looked over at Hooters, who looked back hopefully. Slut sighed with resignation.