Chastity Pill Ch. 03

"Starting... now," Veronica says, tapping her phone screen. The timer begins:

00:00.00.

Your skin flushes hot, then cold, then hot again. Every droplet of water from the shower suddenly feels like it's sizzling against your flesh. Your entire epidermis tingles like it's being peeled off and replaced, cell by cell.

"Oh, it's happening fast," Veronica whispers, her eyes wide. "Look at your skin, baby."

00:01.45

You glance down at your arms. The tan you worked so hard for all summer is literally fading before your eyes, like someone is erasing it with a cosmic pencil eraser. Your skin blanches to an alabaster white, so pale you can see the blue veins beneath pulsing with alarming speed.

"Fuck," you gasp, but your voice already sounds wrong--higher, breathier.

00:03.27

A grinding sensation starts in your bones. Your height begins to decrease, not gradually but in sickening lurches. The world seems to rise up around you as your perspective shifts downward. Your skeleton is literally compressing, bones grinding against each other like tectonic plates during an earthquake.

"You're getting so tiny," Veronica says with delight, circling you. "I'm going to be taller than you!"

00:05.89

Your fingers spasm and contract, the bones shrinking, skin reshaping. Your hands become smaller, more delicate before your eyes. Your nails lengthen slightly and darken, turning a glossy black as if being painted by an invisible manicurist.

"Those are going to look so cute wrapped around a game controller," Veronica comments, holding her own perfectly manicured hand against yours for comparison.

00:07.32

The sensation in your groin starts as a tingle, then intensifies to a strange pulling. Your cock--still semi-hard from the shower sex--begins to retract, not shrinking exactly, but inverting. It feels like someone has grabbed your penis from the inside and is slowly pulling it backward into your body. Your balls tighten and rise, the scrotal sac flattening and splitting with a sensation like fabric tearing.

"Oh my god," you gasp, hands flying to your crotch.

"Don't touch!" Veronica slaps your hands away. "Just let it happen. Trust me, you don't want to interfere."

00:09.56

The inversion accelerates. Your glans--the head of your cock--seems to fold inward, nerve endings screaming in confusion as it recedes into your body, transforming into a swollen nub that you instinctively recognize as a clitoris. The shaft continues inverting, creating a tunnel-like sensation, tissue rearranging to form a vaginal canal. Your testicles are now completely inside your body, the strange vacuum-like sensation continuing as they migrate upward, reshaping into ovaries.

"There goes your manhood," Veronica narrates, her voice low and fascinated. "Right up inside you where it belongs for the next two weeks."

00:12.71

Your hips crack and grind as they widen dramatically. The bones actually rotate outward, creating a wider pelvic cradle. Fat deposits begin forming instantaneously, padding your new hip structure with soft, feminine curves. Your waist simultaneously contracts, creating a hyperfeminine silhouette--like someone is squeezing you with an invisible corset.

"Oh, hello curves," Veronica purrs. "You're getting a serious hourglass, baby."

00:15.23

The most dramatic change begins in your chest. What starts as a tingling in your nipples quickly becomes an intense pressure as tissue begins to swell beneath them. Your flat pectoral muscles seem to liquefy, reforming into soft breast tissue that expands outward at an alarming rate. The weight is immediate and shocking--two heavy masses suddenly pulling at your chest wall.

"Holy shit," Veronica breathes, her eyes fixed on your growing chest. "They're going to be huge."

00:17.84

Your nipples darken from light brown to a dusky rose, and your areolae begin expanding--spreading outward like ink on wet paper until they're the size of silver dollars. The sensitivity is overwhelming; even the air in the room feels like it's physically touching them. Each new nerve ending that forms sends conflicting signals to your brain--pain, pleasure, confusion.

"Look at those fucking udders," Veronica says, reaching out to brush one expanded areola with her fingertip.

You flinch at the contact--it's too much, too sensitive. "Don't," you gasp, but your voice comes out as a breathy moan instead of a command.

00:20.05

Your breasts continue to swell, passing what would be considered average, moving firmly into "large" territory. The weight is disorienting, pulling your center of gravity forward. Your shoulders naturally roll forward to compensate, creating a posture that further emphasizes your new chest. They're so heavy that they actually bounce with your rapid breathing, jiggling with each panicked inhale.

"Perfect big tiddy goth girlfriend proportions," Veronica assesses.

00:22.79

The changes in your face FEEL more subtle, but Veronica's wide eyes tell you they're dramatic. Your jawline softens, cheekbones become more pronounced. Your lips tingle and swell, darkening to a natural burgundy color without any makeup. Your eyelashes thicken and curl upward. Most disturbing is the sensation of your eye sockets subtly reshaping, making your eyes appear larger and more widely spaced.

"Oh my god, you're actually going to be hot," Veronica laughs, sounding almost surprised.

00:25.33

Your hair begins to tingle at the roots. The sensation travels upward as your brown hair darkens to jet black, the color change moving like a wave from roots to tips. Simultaneously, it seems to retract slightly, reshaping into an asymmetrical bob with heavy side-swept bangs.

"I specifically requested this haircut," Veronica explains, reaching out to touch your new hair. "Very Emily the Strange meets Wednesday Addams. Super cute."

00:27.91

Your ass and thighs transform with disturbing speed. It's not just that they're growing--it's that your entire lower body is being remolded like wet clay. Fat cells multiply beneath your skin, creating a layer of soft padding that wasn't there before. Your once muscular thighs--thighs that could power you through a 5K without breaking (much of) a sweat--dissolve into something pillowy and yielding.

The new weight distributes itself with alarming precision, following its determined-by-Veronica feminine blueprint.

"Oh my god," you gasp as you feel your thighs literally spreading sideways, the skin stretching to accommodate new volume. Where they once had definition and separation, they now touch when your legs are together, creating a warm, constant pressure you've never experienced before. The hair on your legs literally retracts into your skin, leaving behind impossibly smooth, pale flesh that seems to glow under the bathroom lights.

Your ass expands with a sensation like being filled with warm liquid, tissue redistributing to create two perfect hemispheres. They're so soft, so jiggly, so... present. You've gone from having an ass you barely thought about to having one that announces itself with every shift of your weight.

00:29.45

"Turn around," Veronica commands, making a twirling motion with her finger. When you comply, she makes an appreciative sound. "Oh, perfect. The tattoo came out exactly right."

"Tattoo?" Your voice is completely foreign now--higher, melodic, with a slightly husky quality.

"I'll show you later. Keep turning--I want to see the whole package."

00:31.08

The final changes are happening between your legs. Your cock has fully inverted now, the last of the shaft tissue reshaping to form the walls of your new vaginal canal. The head of your penis, once the proud centerpiece of your sexuality, has compressed into a tiny, hypersensitive nub--your new clitoris. It's bizarre how something so much smaller can feel so much more intense. All those nerve endings, once spread across your entire glans, are now concentrated in a space no bigger than a pencil eraser.

What's most shocking isn't the absence of your penis, but what's replaced it. You expected a simple slit, but what you have is a prominent mound--puffy and soft, with plump outer lips that protect the more delicate inner anatomy. It feels bizarrely vulnerable, this new opening into your body. There's no hair anywhere--just smooth, pale skin that feels perpetually exposed.

"Spread your legs a little," Veronica instructs, her voice clinical but eyes hungry.

You comply without thinking, still too shocked to resist, and feel a rush of cool air against your new anatomy.

"Perfect little pussy," she assesses. "Puffy and pink. Very goth girl. Very fuckable. Not that you'll be finding that out!"

Your cheeks burn at her casual appraisal.

00:35.59

The final changes sweep through your body like a wave. Your fingernails and toenails darken to match your lips--a natural black that looks like polished onyx. Your neck lengthens slightly, becoming more slender. Your shoulders narrow to childlike proportions, making your breasts look even larger in comparison. Your arms lose their remaining muscle definition, becoming soft and slender.

"Time!" Veronica announces as the timer hits 00:37.00. "Transformation complete."

You try to stand upright but immediately wobble, your entire sense of balance completely fucked. Those massive tits--your massive tits--hang heavy on your chest, pulling you forward like twin pendulums. They don't sit high and perky; they're heavy teardrop-shaped SACKS OF FAT that droop slightly with their own considerable weight, swaying with even the slightest movement.

"Careful there, Morticia," Veronica laughs, steadying you with a hand that now feels enormous against your smaller frame. "You've got to learn to balance with those milkers."

"What the fuck did you do to me?" you gasp, but your voice comes out all wrong--breathy and high, with a slight rasp that somehow sounds perpetually aroused.

"Exactly what we agreed to," Veronica says innocently. "I just picked a body type I thought would be fun for you."

She guides you to the full-length mirror on the bathroom door, and the sight that greets you is so shocking you actually stumble backward.

"Holy shit."

The girl in the mirror is barely recognizable as you. She's tiny--at least eight inches shorter than your male form--with skin so pale it's almost translucent. Her jet-black asymmetrical bob frames a heart-shaped face with enormous green eyes and naturally dark, pouty lips. But it's her body that's truly shocking.

Those tits are fucking MASSIVE for her small frame--pale, heavy globes topped with areolae so large they cover nearly half of each breast. Your waist is impossibly narrow, flaring out to wide, childbearing hips and an ass that looks like it belongs in a rap video. The contrast is cartoonish, hyperfeminine to the point of parody.

"Turn around," Veronica commands, spinning you to see your back.

That's when you notice the first tattoo--positioned just above your ass in gothic script:

PROPERTY OF VERONICA VALENTINE 555-0187 • REWARD FOR RETURN

"What the FUCK?" you sputter, trying to crane your neck to see it better. "You BRANDED me?"

Veronica shrugs, not even trying to hide her smug smile. "Just a little insurance policy. In case you decide to get... adventurous while I'm gone."

"That wasn't part of the deal!" Your new voice rises in pitch, making your outrage sound more like a whine.

"Neither was this," she says, pointing to another tattoo--this one positioned on the underside of your left breast, only visible if you lifted it:

ALEX MERCER ON X-CHANGE EXPIRES 01/15 IF FOUND FUCKING AROUND CALL VERONICA

"Or this," she continues, lifting your right arm to reveal a small gothic heart on your inner bicep with the words:

DADDY'S LITTLE DISAPPOINTMENT

"Or my personal favorite," she says, gently pushing your legs apart to reveal a tiny skull and crossbones tattooed on your inner thigh, just inches from your new pussy:

ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK GIRLFRIEND WILL CASTRATE TRESPASSERS

"You fucking vandalized me!" You try to sound angry, but your new voice makes it come out petulant.

"Relax," Veronica says, rolling her eyes. "They're part of the transformation. They'll disappear when you change back. I just thought they'd be a good reminder of who you belong to." She traces the tattoo above your ass with one finger. "Besides, they're kind of hot."

"I hate this," you mutter, but even as you say it, you can't stop staring at your reflection. The girl in the mirror is undeniably hot--exactly the type you'd have fantasized about before. The irony isn't lost on you.

"No, you don't," Veronica says confidently. "You're just in shock. By tomorrow, you'll be having fun playing with those big tits in the mirror."

She reaches into her overnight bag and pulls out a small package. "Here, I got you something to sleep in."

Veronica opens the package to reveal a black satin camisole with lace trim and matching shorts. The fabric is so thin it's practically transparent.

"This is sleepwear?" you ask, taking the delicate garments.

"For a big tiddy goth girlfriend? Absolutely." She smirks, towering over you now by several inches. "Need help putting them on?"

"I can dress myself," you snap, but immediately fumble with the camisole, unsure which holes are for what.

"Sure you can," Veronica laughs, taking it back. "Arms up."

You reluctantly comply, raising your arms like a child. Veronica slides the silky fabric over your head, guiding it down over your massive new breasts. The sensation of satin against your nipples sends an electric shock through your entire body.

"Jesus!" you gasp.

"Sensitive, huh?" Veronica's eyes gleam with amusement. "Just wait until you try to sleep on your stomach."

She hands you the shorts, but you hesitate, not sure how you feel about having your girlfriend watch her boyfriend put on panties for the first time.

"Oh for god's sake," she sighs, kneeling down. "Step in."

You place one foot, then the other into the leg holes. Veronica slowly draws the shorts up your legs, the satin cool against your new, impossibly smooth skin. As she pulls them over your ass, the fabric seems to disappear between your cheeks, swallowed by the pillowy flesh.

"These are too small," you complain.

"No, that's just how they fit on an ass like yours," Veronica explains, adjusting the waistband.

The panties settle against your new pussy, the fabric pressing directly against your labia. The sensation is bizarrely intimate--a constant, gentle pressure against parts of you that didn't exist an hour ago.

"So," Veronica says, standing back to admire her handiwork. "What do you think?"

You look down at yourself--what you can see of yourself, anyway, past the pale, heavy mounds of your breasts. The camisole does nothing to contain them; instead, they spill out from the sides and bottom, the fabric merely suggesting coverage rather than providing it.

"I think I look ridiculous," you mutter.

"You look hot as fuck," Veronica corrects. "But you know what would really complete the look?"

Before you can answer, her hand cracks against your ass with a sound like a gunshot. You yelp, more from surprise than pain, though the sting quickly blooms across your right cheek.

"What the hell?!" you protest, reaching back to rub the spot.

Veronica is doubled over laughing. "Holy shit! Look how red it got instantly!" She points to the mirror where, sure enough, a perfect handprint is visible on your pale ass, already turning bright red.

"That's not funny," you say, but your new voice makes it sound more pouty than angry.

"Oh, come on. You spanked me silly in the jacuzzi. I don't even get to do it ONE TIME?" She's still laughing, wiping tears from her eyes. "Your skin marks so easily now. It's adorable."

You glare at her, but it's hard to maintain your anger when she looks so genuinely delighted. There's something infectious about her joy, even if it's at your expense.

"Look," she says, finally composing herself. "I know this is a lot. But you're going to be fine. You'll have the whole apartment to yourself. You can game, code, read, watch shows--whatever you want."

"What about Devon?" you ask, suddenly remembering your plans.

Veronica's expression shifts subtly. "You really want Devon to see you like this? Your buddy who you bench press with? The guy who's seen you shotgun beers and hit on bartenders?"

Your stomach drops as the reality hits you. Of course you can't let Devon see you like this. The humiliation would be unbearable.

"I didn't think so," Veronica says, reading your expression. "Just tell him you're sick. Or that I changed my mind and you're coming with me."

"So I'm just supposed to stay locked in the apartment for two weeks?" Your voice rises indignantly.

"You can go out if you want," Veronica shrugs. "But do you really want to learn how to walk in those hips while strangers stare at your tits? Do you want to figure out how to pee sitting down in a public restroom?"

She has a point, and you both know it.

"Besides," she continues, digging in her overnight bag again, "I got you some entertainment."

She pulls out a sleek black vibrator and tosses it on the bed.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"What? I'm being considerate." She grins. "You're going to get curious. Might as well have the right equipment."

You sit heavily on the edge of the bed, your new ass creating way more cushioning than you're used to. Your breasts settle into your lap, the weight of them pulling at your chest. They don't sit high and perky like in porn; they're heavy, pendulous things that move with a life of their own. When you shift, they wobble like pale, flesh-colored water balloons.

"I hate this," you say again, but with less conviction.

Veronica sits beside you, the mattress dipping under her weight. "No, you don't. You're just freaked out. But think about it--you get a two-week vacation from job hunting, complete with a brand new body to explore. Most people would pay thousands for that experience."

"Most people aren't being forced into it by their control-freak girlfriends," you mutter.

"Excuse me?" Veronica's eyebrow arches dangerously.

"Sorry," you sigh, too exhausted to fight. "I just... this is a lot."

Her expression softens. She reaches out to brush your new bangs from your eyes, the gesture unexpectedly tender.

"I know, baby. But it's just two weeks. And when I get back..." her voice drops to that husky register that always makes your pulse race, "... we can have some very fun girl-on-girl time before you change back."

Your eyes widen. "You'd do that?"

"Of course. I'm not really into girls, but it's you." She winks. "We can even use a strap-on or something. Though let's be real, it's more likely I'll be wearing it. You're DEFINITELY a bottom in that body!"

Despite everything, you feel a flutter of arousal at the thought. It's confusing.

"And after you change back," she continues, "you can hate-fuck me all you want. I'll even wear those slutty costumes you've been hinting at." She leans in close. "But only if you're good while I'm gone."

"Define 'good,'" you say cautiously.

"Don't cheat on me, obviously. Don't do anything that would embarrass me." She taps the tattoo on your inner thigh. "Remember, anyone who sees this will know exactly who to call."

"Like I'd let anyone see me naked like this," you scoff.

"Good," she says, satisfied. "Then we're on the same page."

She stands and begins her nightly routine--removing makeup, applying various creams and serums. You watch her, struck by how normal she seems while your entire existence has been turned upside down.

"Are you all packed for your trip?" you ask, desperate for any conversation that doesn't involve your transformation.

"Almost," she says, applying something that smells like roses to her face. "Just need to pack my toiletries in the morning."

"What time's your flight?"

"Noon. Car's picking me up at nine." She turns to look at you. "We can leave here at like 5:30 so I can get you set up. I've got a whole wardrobe waiting for you there."

"All goth stuff?" you ask warily.

"Mostly. Some comfy loungewear too. Nothing too slutty--I know you'll be staying in." She pauses. "Though there is one outfit I'd love to see you in when I video call. It's in a box under the bed."

You groan. "I'm not playing dress-up for you."

"We'll see," she says with a knowing smile. "You might get bored enough to try it."

Finally, she slides into bed, patting the space beside her. You hesitate, then join her --the sensation of the silky sheets against your new skin is almost overwhelmingly sensual.

"C'mere," she says, opening her arms.

You scoot closer, and she pulls you against her, spooning you from behind. It feels bizarre being the little spoon--your smaller body fits perfectly against her curves in a way that's completely new. One of her arms wraps around you, her hand coming to rest possessively on your breast.

"Jesus, these are soft," she murmurs, giving a gentle squeeze. "Like stress balls."

"They're heavy," you complain. "My back already hurts."

"Poor baby," she says, not sounding sympathetic at all. "Just wait until you try to run down stairs."

You lie there in silence for a moment, acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies--her breasts against your back, her arm around your waist, her hand on your breast. Your new breasts don't stack neatly; they spread outward when compressed, spilling to the sides like water finding the path of least resistance.

"Veronica?" you say quietly.

"Hmm?"

"You know this is crazy, right? This whole thing."

She's quiet for a moment. "I know," she finally admits. "But I've been cheated on before. My mom was cheated on. My sister was cheated on. It fucks you up."

"I would never cheat on you," you say, and mean it.

"I want to believe that," she says softly. "But men are... men. And I've worked so hard for this deal. I can't be distracted worrying about what you're doing back here."

"So instead I get to be distracted worrying about these fucking udders hanging off my chest," you grumble.

She laughs, the sound vibrating against your back. "They're not udders. They're perfect tits. And they look amazing on you."

You roll your eyes, but there's something comforting about her certainty.

"I know I'm crazy," she continues, her voice smaller now. "But I'm hot, right? And the sex is good?"

The vulnerability in her voice catches you off guard. For all her confidence and control, there's an insecurity there that rarely surfaces.

"The sex is fucking incredible," you assure her. "And you're the hottest woman I've ever seen."

"Good," she says, sounding relieved. "Because I really do love you, you know. Even when you're a big tiddy goth girlfriend."

"Especially then," you correct dryly.

"Especially then," she agrees, laughing.

She pulls you closer, her hand still cupping your breast possessively. Despite everything--the shock, the anger, the humiliation--there's something undeniably intimate about being held like this. Your new body responds to her touch in ways you don't fully understand yet, a warmth spreading through your core.

"Get some sleep," she murmurs against your hair. "Tomorrow's a big day. First day of your two-week vacation from masculinity."

"Some vacation," you mutter, but you're already drifting off, the events of the day catching up to you.

The last thing you feel before sleep claims you is Veronica pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, her lips lingering there as if sealing a promise.

Or maybe marking her territory.

The shrill beep of Veronica's alarm yanks you from sleep. For one blissful moment, you exist in the limbo between dreams and reality, not yet remembering the events of last night.

Then you shift, and two gelatinous masses slide across your chest like water balloons in a pillowcase. One breast flops directly on top of the other, creating a strange, squished sensation that jolts you fully awake.

"What the--" you gasp, eyes flying open.

"Morning, sunshine," Veronica chirps, already sitting up beside you. "How's my little goth girlfriend feeling?"

Reality crashes back. In the harsh morning light, your skin looks even paler, almost translucent, blue veins visible beneath the surface like roads on a map.

"I was hoping it was a nightmare," you groan, voice still startlingly high and breathy.

"Nope. All real." Veronica stretches, her tank top riding up to reveal a strip of toned stomach. "Bathroom's all yours if you need it."

You do need it, you realize. Badly.

Sliding out of bed, you wobble slightly. Your breasts swing pendulously as you stand, the momentum carrying them in a brief figure-eight before they settle into their natural hang. The camisole has twisted during the night, one breast completely exposed, the dark areola puckered in the cool air.

"Jesus," you mutter, tugging the fabric down.

The bathroom is all marble and gold, just as opulent as it was last night. You approach the toilet with trepidation.

Pulling down your satin shorts, you awkwardly position yourself over the toilet seat and lower down. The sensation is bizarre--nothing to aim, just a void between your legs that somehow needs to release pressure.

You relax, and suddenly--PSSSSHHHHH! The sound is startlingly loud, the sensation of release entirely different from what you're used to. It's less directed, more of an overall flowing sensation, and it seems to go on forever.

"Don't forget to wipe!" Veronica calls through the door, making you jump.

"Jesus Christ, Veronica!" you shout back, mortified.

"Front to back!" she adds helpfully.

After figuring out the mechanics of post-pee hygiene, you wash your hands and stare at yourself in the mirror. The shock has worn off slightly, but the disconnect between your mind and this body remains profound. You raise a hand to touch your face--the skin is impossibly soft, like the finest silk.

When you return to the bedroom, Veronica has laid out clothes on the bed. Black jeans, a band t-shirt you don't recognize, and what looks like a medieval torture device.

"What is that?" you ask, pointing at the black elastic contraption.

"Sports bra," Veronica says, already dressed in a crisp white blouse and pencil skirt. "Trust me, you'll need it. Those puppies will give you black eyes if you try to go downstairs without support."

She helps you into it, which involves an ungraceful dance of arms and elbows as you try to position the elastic band under your breasts. The cups aren't really cups at all, more like compression panels designed to flatten rather than shape.

"Lift," Veronica instructs, holding the band in place.

You hoist your breasts up, the weight of them surprising you all over again. Veronica pulls the band underneath, then helps you shimmy the straps up your arms. The final step involves an undignified stuffing motion, both of you working to corral your flesh into the elastic constraints.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you gasp as Veronica gives one final adjustment, squeezing your breasts into place. "People wear these voluntarily?"

"Welcome to womanhood," Veronica says cheerfully. "That's actually a really good one. It's got triple reinforcement."

Once dressed, you follow Veronica to the elevator, hyper-aware of your new body. The sports bra compresses your breasts against your chest, but they still bounce slightly with each step. The jeans hug your new curves in a way that feels obscenely tight, though Veronica assures you they're "actually pretty loose."

In the cab back to your apartment, Veronica scrolls through emails on her phone while you stare out the window, still adjusting to seeing the world from a lower vantage point. Everything seems slightly larger, slightly more imposing.

"Oh!" Veronica says suddenly, looking up from her phone. "There's ONE OTHER THING I forgot to tell you..."

You turn to her warily. "What now?"

She bites her lip, looking almost guilty. "Well, it's just that..."

--SUBSCRIBER VOTE--

Option 1: The Buddy System She made your friend Devon take X-Change too, so that she could trust him around you.

Option 2: The Renovation Crew There's a team of hunky contractors renovating the bathroom for the next two weeks - "I wanted it done while I was gone so I wouldn't have to deal with the mess!"