Go to sleep

00:00 | Sunday 3 Aug 2025 | Putney flat, bedroom

The exhaustion of the day finally catches up with you. Between the shock of transformation, completing all those tasks, and the lingering sensitivity from the lingerie, your body craves rest. You ignore David's knock at your door, quickly pulling on an oversized t-shirt—one of the few items that still fits your new body—and collapsing onto your bed.

"I'm going to sleep," you call out, voice muffled against your pillow. "We can... figure everything out tomorrow."

You hear David hesitate outside your door. "Okay," he finally says. "But Lexi... we should talk about all this in the morning."

You mumble something that might be agreement, already feeling consciousness slipping away as your eyelids grow heavy.

04:10 | Sunday 3 Aug 2025 | Putney flat, bedroom

You wake with a gasp, your body thrumming with urgent need. Your head feels stuffed with cotton wool, thoughts slow and sticky. The room seems to pulse around you, and between your legs, you're embarrassingly wet.

"What's happening?" you slur, reaching for your phone. The screen glows with an alert from the Perfect Girlfriend App: "DEADLINE MISSED! IQ REDUCED BY 5 POINTS. AROUSAL INCREASED BY 50%."

Becky's avatar bounces on screen. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty! Looks like somebody forgot about her little deadline! That's gonna cost you some brain cells, babe."

You groan, pressing your thighs together against the insistent throbbing. Your nipples, especially the newly pierced one, feel hypersensitive against the fabric of your shirt. The fog in your brain makes focusing difficult.

"I need to..." you begin, but can't seem to complete the thought.

"Need to cum? That's right, honey!" Becky chirps. "Better hurry—you're already down five IQ points, and it'll keep dropping until you get yourself off!"

Panicking, you fumble through the heap of discarded clothing on the floor until your fingers find the purple lingerie. Something about the fabric calls to you, promising relief. Despite your earlier experience with its strange effects, you strip off your shirt and pull on the balconette bra and high-waisted panties, your movements clumsy with desperation.

The moment the fabric settles against your skin, that same warmth blooms across your body, but now it feels like salvation rather than threat. Every nerve ending lights up with delicious sensation. You fall back onto the bed, one hand already slipping beneath the waistband of the panties.

"That's it," Becky encourages from the phone. "Give in to it, babe."

Your fingers find slick heat, and you gasp at the intensity. Your other hand moves to your breast, fingers circling the pierced nipple through lace. The dual stimulation makes your back arch, a moan escaping before you can stifle it.

The fog in your mind thickens further, but now it's pleasant—a cottony cloud of pure sensation that pushes out complex thought. Your fingers move faster, hips rising to meet them. The tattoo on your hip seems to pulse with each heartbeat, adding another layer of sensation.

"I can't—" you pant, feeling the pressure build rapidly. "It's too—"

The orgasm crashes through you without warning, wave after wave of pleasure that makes your toes curl and vision blur. You bite your lip to keep from screaming, body convulsing on the sheets.

04:25 | Sunday 3 Aug 2025 | Putney flat, bedroom

[TIMER] | Climax deadline | 08:00 remaining