The morning sun filters through your bedroom window, casting warm streaks across your floor as you wake up to another day in quarantine. Through the window, you can hear the usual sounds of the city coming to life - cars passing by, distant chatter, and the occasional siren. Everything seems normal on the surface, but you know better.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand up, stretching your muscles that still feel tight from sleep. As you walk to the window, you notice a woman across the street pausing beside a lamppost, subtly pressing her hips against it for a moment before continuing on her way. Just another morning in your strange new reality.

The news report from yesterday plays in your mind - scientists still have no answers about the virus that has transformed the women of your city. The quarantine walls remain firmly in place, and no one enters or leaves the city limits. The official announcement stated that women develop swollen erogenous zones and constant urges to dry hump objects for relief. An orgasm only provides temporary respite before the overwhelming desire returns.

You take a deep breath and smell coffee brewing from the apartment below yours. Your stomach growls, reminding you that you need groceries. As you consider your options for the day, you realize the entire city lies before you, each location offering different encounters with women struggling against their biological compulsions.