Chastity Pill Ch. 08

Two minutes. Just two fucking minutes to get decent and formulate a plan. That's reasonable, right?

You slam your bedroom door closed and sprint to the closet, heart hammering against your ribs like it's trying to escape. The mirror catches your reflection--a wild-eyed goth girl with matted hair and nipples that could cut glass poking obscenely through a silk camisole.

"Holy shit," you mutter, yanking the ruined pajama bottoms down your legs. The fabric peels away from your inner thighs with a disgusting SHLICK sound, the evidence of last night's activities cold and tacky against your skin.

Focus. You need to focus.

Your fingers fumble through drawers, searching for underwear. You grab the first pair you find--black lace that feels more like fishing net than actual clothing--and hop on one foot trying to get them on, nearly face-planting when your massive tits throw off your balance.

"Jesus FUCK!" you hiss as your left breast swings with such momentum that it actually SLAPS against your collarbone. These fucking things need to be contained before you give yourself a black eye.

You grab the sports bra from where it's draped over a chair and stare at it like it's a Rubik's cube. Unlike regular bras, this industrial-strength contraption has no hooks or clasps--just a solid band of elastic that somehow needs to stretch over your watermelon-sized chest. And you forget how you did it last time.

First attempt: Pull it over your head like a t-shirt.

The fabric catches halfway down, trapping your arms above your head while your breasts remain completely exposed.

"Mmmpfhh!" You struggle like a straightjacketed patient, flopping around the room, arms pinned, face buried in spandex. After thirty seconds of undignified thrashing, you manage to extract yourself, gasping.

Second attempt: Step into it and pull it up.

This works marginally better, until the elastic reaches your hips, where it promptly gets stuck. You perform an awkward shimmy-jump hybrid, but succeed only in making your massive udders flop violently enough to generate their own weather systems.

You tear the bra off and try a third approach. You twist it into a figure-eight, stick your arms through, and then attempt to maneuver it around your torso. For a miraculous moment, it seems to be working--until the elastic snaps back with the force of a released slingshot, smacking painfully against your ribs.

"FUCK THIS BODY!" you shout at the ceiling, then immediately lower your voice, remembering the situation outside.

Devon. Jake. Focus.

Final attempt: You hold the bra horizontally in front of you, bend forward at the waist--which causes your tits to dangle like fleshy pendulums--and wiggle into the bottom band first. Once it's around your torso, you shove one arm through, then the other, and finally gather all your breast tissue from your armpits, sides, practically your fucking BACK, and stuffing it into the cups.

Success! Sort of. Your tits are now compressed into two slightly smaller flesh-mounds, pointing aggressively forward. You can actually feel your heartbeat in your nipples. But at least they're CONTAINED.

You grab a pair of black ripped jeans and hop frantically around the room trying to pull them up your legs. The denim catches on your damp thighs, requiring increasingly violent tugs to advance upward. You suck in your stomach, squeezing and wriggling until they finally button, though your ass feels like it's about to burst through the fabric like the Kool-Aid Man.

A faded band t-shirt goes over your head--thank GOD, an article of clothing that doesn't fight back--followed by a black hoodie to hide the obscene outline of your compressed chest.

You catch your reflection again. Despite the rushed dressing and complete lack of makeup application, you're still unnervingly fuckable. Your hair, though sleep-tangled, somehow falls in a perfectly disheveled way that suggests "just had incredible sex." Your skin glows with an ethereal, pale luminescence. And your lips--Jesus, why are they so PLUMP?

This fucking goth body is DETERMINED to be hot, regardless of circumstances.

No time to dwell on it. You press your ear against the bedroom door. The apartment sounds eerily quiet. Did Devon and Jake leave? Maybe Marco called him back to work? Maybe the whole situation defused itself?

Your optimism dies the moment you creep out into the hallway. The contractors aren't in the main bathroom. The demolition tools sit abandoned. Marco and Luis are nowhere to be seen.

But Devon's guest room door is closed.

As you tiptoe closer, the first sounds become audible--a rhythmic CREA-CREA-CREAK that makes your stomach drop. You freeze, suddenly unsure what to do. It's not like you can just burst in--Devon's an adult, technically. And for all the contractors know, you're just Devon's roommate or friend with no authority over who she sleeps with.

Maybe you can text her? You pull out your phone, fingers flying:

You: DEVON WHAT ARE YOU DOING?????

You: GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW

You: THIS IS BAD! VERY BAD!

You wait. No response. The creaking continues, joined now by the unmistakable sound of skin smacking against skin. SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP.

You try calling her. Straight to voicemail.

Shit. SHIT. You need to do something. You could knock? But that seems so... ineffective. Like, "Excuse me, sorry to interrupt your life-altering poor decision, but could you please stop potentially getting impregnated? Thanks ever so much!"

God, where are Marco and Luis? Maybe they could call Jake back to work? You'll need to find them, but first--

A sound from behind the door stops you cold.

"Unnnngh FUCK yes! RIGHT THERE!"

That's Devon's voice, but higher, breathier--completely transformed by whatever's happening to her.

Your face burns with embarrassment, but you can't seem to move away from the door.

"You like that, baby girl?" Jake's deep voice carries easily. "You like this big dick stretching out your tight little pussy?"

"Oh my GOD!" Devon's voice breaks on the last word. "It's so fucking DEEP! I can feel you in my fucking STOMACH!"

SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP.

The sound is getting faster, more intense. You should walk away. You absolutely should not be hearing this. But your feet seem rooted to the floor.

"You're so fucking tight," Jake growls. "For such a little slut, your pussy feels brand new."

"It IS!" Devon cries out, then seems to catch herself. "I mean, I haven't been fucked in sooooo long!"

Your hand flies to your mouth.

"FUCK, I can't believe how good this feels!" Devon's voice is higher now, nearly frantic. "Why didn't anyone TELL ME it feels like this?"

"Like what, baby?" Jake's voice is smug, controlled.

"Like... like... UNNGH! Like I NEED it! Like I was MADE for this! FUCK ME HARDER!"

The bed creaking intensifies to an alarming degree. You're genuinely concerned it might break through the floor.

Your brain screams at you to leave, but some horrified, train-wreck fascination keeps you frozen in place. You find yourself crouching down, peering under the slim gap beneath the door before you can stop yourself.

Your angle is limited, but what you can see makes your heart stop.

Devon is on her hands and knees on the bed, facing partly toward the door. Her small frame is completely dwarfed by Jake looming behind her, his muscled torso glistening with sweat as he pounds into her with brutal force. One of his large hands is tangled in her hair, using it like reins to pull her head back, exposing her throat. Her face is transformed--mouth open in a silent scream, eyes glazed and unfocused, cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

"Take it, you little fucking slut," Jake grunts, his free hand coming down HARD on her ass with a CRACK that makes Devon jerk forward.

"YES! Spank me! I'm such a bad girl!" Devon squeals, her voice practically unrecognizable. "I'm your fucking WHORE!"

Oh god. This cannot be Devon--your foul-mouthed but fundamentally decent friend--saying these things. It has to be the Breeder pill. It HAS to be.

"You're really getting off on this, aren't you?" Jake laughs, grabbing her hair tighter, forcing her back to arch more severely. "Five minutes after meeting me and you're begging for my cock like a bitch in heat."

"I AM!" Devon wails, her small breasts swinging with each powerful thrust. "I'M IN HEAT! I NEED YOUR CUM SO BAD!"

Jake's rhythm falters for a second. "What the fuck? You want me to cum inside you?"

"YES!" Devon's voice is desperate, pleading. "PLEASE cum inside me! Fill me up! I NEED IT!"

"Are you on birth control?" Jake asks, still pounding into her but with slightly more restraint.

"NO! I don't CARE! PLEASE!" Devon sounds like she's about to cry. "I NEED your cum inside me! I NEED TO FEEL IT!"

"Whoa, that's fucking hot, but--" Jake starts.

"PLEASE!" Devon's voice cracks with desperation. "I'm DYING! I'm so empty! I NEED YOUR CUM!"

Jake's hips stutter again. "I'm not taking responsibility if you get pregnant."

"I DON'T CARE!" Devon screams, pushing back against him frantically. "PUMP ME FULL! BREED ME! FUCKING DRAIN YOUR BALLS IN ME!"

From your limited vantage point, you see Jake shrug--actually SHRUG--before grabbing Devon's hips with both hands and resuming his punishing pace.

"You asked for it, you fucking cum dumpster," he growls, the bed now slamming against the wall with each thrust. BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG.

Devon is making inhuman noises now--high, keening sounds punctuated by broken gasps. "Yes-yes-yes-yes-FUCK-FUCK-YES! Make me your breeding SOW! Fill my tight little asian cunt with your SEED!"

You should stop this. You really should. But how? Burst into the room? They've locked the door. Pound on it? That would just be awkward for everyone, and probably wouldn't stop them at this point. Devon sounds like she'd fight off an armed SWAT team to keep Jake's dick inside her.

Jake flips Devon onto her back with alarming ease, her tiny body bouncing on the mattress. From your new angle, you can see her legs spread wide, ankles locked around Jake's lower back as he towers over her, driving downward.

"You want my cum, little slut?" Jake pants, sweat dripping from his face onto Devon's flushed chest. "You want me to knock you up?"

"YES!" Devon's voice is ragged, desperate. "FILL MY WOMB! I WANT TO FEEL YOUR HOT CUM PAINTING MY INSIDES!"

Jesus fucking Christ. This is not normal dirty talk. This is the Breeder pill talking.

"I'm getting close," Jake warns, his movements becoming more erratic, more powerful. The SLAP-SLAP-SLAP sound of their bodies meeting is now joined by an obscene SQUELCH-SQUELCH-SQUELCH that tells you exactly how wet Devon is.

"DO IT!" Devon shrieks, her legs tightening around him, physically preventing any possible withdrawal. "CUM INSIDE ME! BREED ME! MAKE ME YOUR CUMDUMP!"

"Fuck, I'm gonna--" Jake's back muscles tense visibly, his pace becoming frenzied.

"YES YES YES GIVE IT TO ME!" Devon sounds genuinely deranged now, thrashing beneath him like she's possessed. "FILL ME UP! SPURT YOUR BABIES IN ME!"

Jake lets out a guttural roar, his entire body going rigid. From your angle, you can see his ass clench rhythmically, his balls visibly CONTRACTING as he empties himself deep inside your friend.

The moment his first spurt hits her cervix, Devon's entire body convulses like she's been electrocuted. Her back arches so severely it looks painful, lifting both her and Jake partially off the bed.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" The scream that tears from Devon's throat doesn't even sound human--it's primal, animalistic, almost frightening in its intensity. "I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING! OH MY GOD IT'S NEVER STOPPING!"

Her legs lock around Jake like a vice, her entire body shuddering violently. Jake's eyes widen in what looks like a mixture of alarm and masculine pride as he continues to pump his load into her convulsing body.

"Holy shit," he pants, looking genuinely shocked. "I've never seen a girl cum like this before."

Devon can't even respond. She's making choking, gasping sounds, her eyes rolled back so far only the whites are visible, her petite body wracked with spasms that seem to go on and on and on.

"Take it all," Jake grunts, making small thrusting motions now, ensuring every last drop is deposited as deep as possible. "Fuck, you're milking me dry."

Devon's orgasm continues for what seems like an impossibly long time--thirty seconds, maybe more--before her body finally goes limp, her legs falling away from Jake's back. She lies there panting, occasional aftershocks making her twitch.

"Holy... fucking... SHIT," she finally gasps, her voice raw. "What... the... FUCK... was THAT?"

Jake laughs, sounding pleased with himself. "That was me rearranging your guts, baby girl."

"I didn't know..." Devon's voice is distant, dreamy. "I didn't know it could feel like that. I've never... it was like my soul left my body."

"You're welcome," Jake says smugly, slowly extracting himself from her. You can actually HEAR the wet SCHLORP as he withdraws, followed by a obscene GLORP as his cum begins to leak out of her.

"NO!" Devon squeals, giggling. "Stay in! Keep it all inside me!"

"Whoa, chill," Jake laughs. "I gotta get back to work sometime. Marco's gonna have my ass."

As if summoned by his name, you suddenly hear a throat clearing behind you. You freeze, still crouched at eye-level with the bottom of the door.

"Finding what you're looking for down there?" Marco's voice is dry, amused.

You scramble to your feet, face burning so hot you're surprised your makeup doesn't melt off. Behind Marco stands Luis, both men carrying coffee cups from the shop down the street. They've clearly been gone for a few minutes and just returned to... this scene.

"I was just--I was trying to--" Words fail you completely.

Marco holds up a hand. "Not my business. Just wanted to let Jake know his break ended fifteen minutes ago." He raises his voice for the last part, clearly intending it to carry through the door.

"Shit," Jake's muffled voice comes from inside. "Give me five minutes, boss."

"Make it three," Marco replies, then turns to you with an apologetic grimace. "Sorry about the interruption to your... morning."

He and Luis exchange a look that speaks volumes--half amusement, half sympathy--before heading back toward the master bathroom.

You stand there, utterly mortified, unsure what to do next. From behind the closed door, you hear Devon's voice, softer now:

"That was the most incredible thing I've ever felt in my life."

Jake's laugh. "We should do it again sometime."

"How about right now?" Devon asks, her voice suddenly urgent again. "I'm ready. I'm still so fucking horny."

"Jesus, girl," Jake sounds impressed. "Let me catch my breath at least."

"I can't help it," Devon whimpers. "I just need more. I need ALL your cum."

You stumble back from the door, unable to listen anymore.

There's a 50% chance Devon just got pregnant. A 50% chance your best friend will be stuck as a woman for at least nine months, carrying the child of a random contractor she met less than an hour ago.

All because you took two minutes to change your clothes!