***
Author's note: In case anyone has somehow missed the story tags and all of the implied text up until now, this is the overt final warning; if futanari (or anything resembling it, as I feel there are some clear differentiators) is not your thing, you are advised to not continue with this story.
***
4.
Two clear plastic cups sat on the sink countertop. One filled with water, the other empty. The torn box just beside them, a foil blister pack sitting on top of it, pairs of pink and pastel blue pills packaged inside. Ludicrously, there actually was a fucking turkey baster laying there as well, at the ready.
Samantha sat on the edge of the tub in the bathroom, her heart pounding. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. Her hand was shaking slightly, making it difficult to read the small print of the thin fold-creased paper. Certain phrases kept jumping out at her.
"...efficacy typically observed within five to ten minutes..."
"...may cause an intense sensation of pressure or discomfort..."
"...initial presentation can result in involuntary discharge..."
This was crazy. Why had she agreed to do this? What happened after, if all of this actually worked? Did they really know what they were taking on?
Maybe it wasn't too late to back out...
Except that it was. The look of tearful elation on Janet's face that Samantha was briefly able to glimpse before her roommate flung her arms around her the moment she walked through the apartment door that morning precluded any thoughts of going back on her word. Janet looked like herself again, transformed overnight from the lifeless shell of the past months back into the animated lifelong friend she'd always known.
It was all riding on her, Samantha felt. Whether it was fair or not, right or not -- that was totally irrelevant. She could do something, she had it within her ability to make Janet happy again. And not in some shallow, petty, short-lived way either, but by helping her to fulfill one of her fundamental life goals. To bring purpose and meaning back into her life again.
She had to do that.
Didn't she?
Samantha picked up the blister pack and pushed out a blue pill, holding it up slowly in front of herself, reading 'T175-C', which was printed on it in small, nearly indistinguishable text. It was incredible, difficult to believe that this tablet, this tiny little thing was capable of changing her... changing her in a way that she had never thought about, never wondered about, could not even imagine. What would it be like?
The idea seemed so alien, so repulsive. That she would voluntarily do this...
But then, something about that line of thinking felt a little mean-spirited. This drug was a miracle to some people. Because of it, they were capable of becoming who they always wanted to be, perhaps who they were meant to be. The answer to their dreams. Even in a way, the answer to Janet's dreams.
Still, despite the diplomatic considerations, Samantha was nervous. Scared, even. Taking this drug was going to...
alter
her. In a very fundamental way.
It's not permanent
, Samantha told herself.
Just take the pink pill and I'm back to my regular old self.
Who knows? Maybe everything will work on the very first go, and I'll never have to do this ever again...
Samantha encouraged herself and she picked up the cup of water.
Nonetheless, she continued to hesitate. Her heart hadn't stopped hammering inside of her chest. Her mouth had gone bone dry and she swallowed thickly. But after several minutes of just standing there indecisively, she realized that nothing was going to change; she'd already deliberated the reasons for and against doing this a hundred times over, she'd made the commitment to her friend, and now it was simply time to either do it or not.
"This is for you, Janet," Samantha muttered out loud. "You owe me..!"
She took a deep breath, put the tiny blue pill in her mouth and washed it down.
She set the cup down with a slightly trembling hand. It was done. This was it. Now, the drug just had to do its work. She glanced at the clock, marking the time. Between five and ten minutes, the instructions said.
The seconds ticked by tortuously. After what felt like an eternity, she checked the clock again, to see that less than a minute had passed.
She watched herself in the mirror, the idea occurring to her that maybe something was happening that she could see but not feel, but it was only her familiar self that looked back out of the reflection, a pretty, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, young woman. 'The blonde bombshell', as Janet was prone to calling her.
She was momentarily distracted from the task at hand, giving herself an appraising look and was not unhappy with what she saw. There was some truth to Janet's ribbing -- she'd always had an attractive face, nice figure and a bust that turned heads.
Samantha had always taken care of herself, but never moreseo than now -- watching what she'd been eating and stepping up her workout routine in preparation for the upcoming wedding had been making a difference and she was more fit and toned than she'd ever been, which was easy to see in the thin strapped pink dress she was wearing.
The dress... It grounded her back in the moment; she'd picked it out this morning specifically, not because of how it showcased her figure, but rather in anticipation of what she'd be doing later in the day... Samantha didn't know what exactly this was going to be like, but maybe pants weren't a good idea...
And so she'd decided instead to put on this
dress
, and, dear God, it
did
show off her assets and she looked
great
in it -- the thought triggered a sudden onset of rising panic.
She was more than