No, give in and masturbate to orgasm before you lose more intelligence

19:50 | Saturday 2 Aug 2025 | Putney, London

The fog in your mind grows thicker with each passing minute, your thoughts sluggish and slipping away like water through your fingers. Between your legs, the throbbing has become unbearable—a ****, hungry pulse that demands attention. You can't fight this any longer.

"Fine," you whisper to yourself, "I can't think like this anyway."

Your hand trembles as it slides down your stomach, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of those tiny white shorts. The sensation of your own touch against your new anatomy sends a jolt of electricity through your entire body. You gasp, unprepared for the intensity.

"Oh my god," you breathe, your back arching involuntarily as your fingertips graze the slick, sensitive flesh. Your body knows what it wants even if your mind is still catching up.

You shimmy the shorts down your thighs, kicking them off with clumsy movements. The cool air against your exposed skin makes you shiver. Hesitantly, you explore yourself—this new, foreign part of you that pulses with need. Each touch sends waves of pleasure radiating outward, your breath catching in your throat.

"How is it so—" you whimper as your fingers find a particularly sensitive spot that makes your toes curl. Your hips buck upward of their own accord, chasing the feeling.

Your free hand moves to your breast, squeezing experimentally through the fabric of your crop top. The dual sensation makes you moan louder than you intended, the sound startlingly feminine to your ears.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you pant, your movements becoming more urgent, more instinctual. Your body seems to know exactly what to do—how to touch, how to move—even as your mind struggles to process the unfamiliar sensations.

The pressure builds rapidly, a coiling tension deep in your core. Your eyes flutter closed, long lashes casting shadows across your flushed cheeks. Your breathing comes in short, **** gasps, blonde hair splayed across the pillow as your head thrashes from side to side.

When it finally happens, the orgasm crashes over you like nothing you've ever experienced before. Your back arches completely off the bed, a high-pitched cry escaping your glossy lips as waves of pleasure pulse through every inch of your transformed body. Your inner walls clench rhythmically around nothing, your body **** to be filled.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you gasp, trembling through the aftershocks. Your mind suddenly clears, the fog lifting as your intelligence returns to normal. The thoughts that had been so difficult to grasp moments ago now flow freely once more.

As you lie there, catching your breath, your phone chimes. Becky's animated face appears on screen, her expression smug.

"That's more like it, babe! Timer reset for eight hours. Doesn't it feel sooo much better to just give in?" She winks. "And hey, your brain's back to normal... for now!"

You sit up slowly, your body humming with residual pleasure. The intelligence you'd lost has returned, but something feels different. The memory of that intense release lingers, your body already craving the next one. You realize with a sinking feeling that this is only the beginning—the app has shown you exactly what will happen if you resist again.

"Congratulations on your first climax as Lexi!" Becky chirps. "Keep it up every eight hours, or... well, we both know what happens now, don't we?"

20:10 | Saturday 2 Aug 2025 | Putney, London

[TIMER] | Climax deadline | 07:35 remaining