No, try to fight the compulsion and see what happens if the timer expires

19:15 | Saturday 2 Aug 2025 | Putney, London

You press your thighs together, gritting your teeth against the rising heat blooming between them. The pulsing notification on your phone screen taunts you: thirty minutes remaining before... something happens. You're determined to find out what.

"No," you say firmly to Becky's animated face. "I'm not giving in to this. I want to see what happens."

Becky's digital eyes widen in surprise before narrowing mischievously. "Ooh, playing with fire! I love it when they resist." She giggles, twirling a strand of blonde hair around her finger. "Clock's ticking, babe!"

You set the phone down and pace the bedroom, trying to ignore the growing warmth spreading through your lower abdomen. Each step sends tingles through your new body, your breasts bouncing slightly beneath the tight crop top. Ten minutes pass in agonizing slowness. The heat intensifies, making your skin flush and your breathing quicken.

A knock at the door makes you jump.

"Lexi?" David's voice comes through the door. "You okay in there? I heard you moving around."

"I'm fine," you call back, your voice hitching slightly as a particularly strong wave of arousal washes over you. "Just... just give me some time."

"If you need anything..." His voice trails off meaningfully before you hear his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

Another ten minutes crawl by. You're sitting on the edge of the bed now, knees pressed tightly together as sweat beads on your forehead. Your phone chirps again—ten minutes remaining.

"Getting warm yet?" Becky taunts from the screen. "Your perfect little body is just doing what you programmed it to do, sweetie!"

You ignore her, focusing on your breathing, trying to maintain control. But your mind feels... different. Thoughts that were clear moments ago now seem hazy around the edges. You try to recall your strategy—why were you resisting again? Something about proving a point? The reason seems less important now than the throbbing need between your legs.

"Five minutes!" Becky sings out.

You're rocking slightly on the bed, your hand hovering dangerously close to the waistband of your tiny shorts. The fabric between your legs is damp, and every brush of material against your new anatomy sends electric shocks up your spine.

"Two minutes!"

Your vision blurs slightly. Simple arithmetic suddenly seems challenging—you try to calculate how long you've been transformed and have to count on your fingers. Words form more slowly in your mind.

"Thirty seconds, babe!"

A whimper escapes your lips as your resistance crumbles. Your hand slides toward your shorts of its own accord—but you yank it back with the last remnant of your willpower.

"Time's up!" Becky announces with theatrical glee.

The effect is immediate and unmistakable. A fog descends over your thoughts, like someone has wrapped your brain in cotton wool. Complex ideas slip away before you can grasp them. Your vocabulary simplifies dramatically, words with more than two syllables suddenly becoming challenging to recall.

"What's... happening?" you ask, your voice higher and breathier than before.

"Just what you programmed, silly!" Becky explains cheerfully. "Your IQ just dropped by five points! And it'll keep dropping every hour until you take care of those... urgent needs." She winks salaciously.

You blink rapidly, trying to focus. "But I... I need to figure out how to... to..."

The end of the sentence evaporates before you can catch it. What were you trying to do again? Something important, but your mind keeps circling back to the throbbing heat between your legs.

"Plus, you'll just get wetter and needier by the minute," Becky adds with a smirk. "Better take care of it before you're too ditzy to remember how!"

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

[TIMER] | IQ drop countdown | 55 minutes remaining until next -5 IQ