Roommate Screening Ch 02

Author's Note: I thought I'd do some sluttification/BE since my past few stories have mostly featured impregnation. Standard disclaimer applies: this story contains fictional depictions of erotic scenarios, so act accordingly! All characters are at least eighteen, all situations are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to any real-life individuals or situations is entirely coincidental. Copyright Fidget, 2023. All rights reserved. Enjoy!

Roommate Screening - A Slut Screen Story

by Fidget

Chapter 2

Now that she had experienced first-hand what the Slut Screens could do to her, Olivia was much more willing to stay home and let me handle the errands. The lesson had been a costly one however, and she need only look down to see two perky, unwanted reminders to play it safe protruding from her chest, still hanging freely under her shirt due to the surprising persuasiveness of her first conditioning.

She had to leave the house every once in a while though, most frequently for work. As mentioned, Olivia was incredibly strong-willed herself, and she was determined not to let some random pervert on the internet beat her, no matter how much he reprogrammed her body and mind against her will. So, whenever Olivia left the house she made a point to put on a bra first, every single time, no matter how uncomfortable it made her.

Still, even though she loosened the straps as much as possible so that the cups provided only the barest minimum of support and coverage, it was obvious to me just how much her programming had succeeded in making her hate wearing them now, and how much she dreaded putting them on every single day.

One upside of her discomfort was that there were now other benefits to staying home than just avoiding potential Slut Screens. More time at home meant more time braless, and so just as Olivia had expected, our condo quickly became the only place where she could let herself fully relax and feel comfortable with her new, unconscious tendency toward slightly sluttier behavior. Speaking of which, in addition to forcing herself to wear a bra every day, I had no doubt that Olivia was also successfully resisting her impulse to seek out the attention of men while she was out, though I suspected that she was still forced to enjoy any attention she happened to get, even if she refused to show or admit it.

This meant that another benefit of staying home was the option of relieving some of that tension by instead showing her tits off to me, her strictly platonic roommate who was specifically trying to avoid romantic entanglements after my bad breakup. Still, I understood how hard this must be for Olivia, and I knew how necessary it was for her to indulge her new exhibitionist inclinations from time to time so that she could function normally in society.

And so Olivia continued to live publicly as though she hadn't been affected, and no one was the wiser. No one but me.

As soon as she got home each afternoon, I was immediately treated to the pleasant-yet-unwelcome experience of watching my extra-busty roommate arching her back as she reached behind herself and unclasped her bra, and then to the sight of her large tits heavily dropping into her blouse as she pulled her bra off. She'd then stretch and moan in obvious pleasure at freeing them (though I doubted that she'd be quite as exuberant or vocal in her display if I weren't here), and I was forced to watch as her shirt pulled tight against her breasts with her exertions, highlighting every detail of her perfect orbs to my increasingly interested eyes day after day.

Olivia was far too proud to confirm it, and I was far too terrified to ask, but I could tell from her frequent blushes that she enjoyed showing off her tits to me just as much as I enjoyed seeing them. I don't know if she was able to stop herself from preening like this when men checked out her tits in public, but she certainly didn't seem to be able to resist letting me know that she appreciated the attention here in the privacy of her home.

As much as I was enjoying Olivia's increased sexual liberation on an instinctual level, however, she was still my roommate, I still had to see her every single day, and her behavior was starting to make things difficult for me. I had only agreed to move in in the first place because she had assured me, quite forcefully, that our relationship would stay strictly platonic on threat of eviction, but I could no longer ignore the powerful sexual desire I felt rising inside myself at constantly being encouraged to ogle Olivia's very attractive body.

I wanted to say something about how her behavior was flirting with breaking our "no sexual impropriety" rule, that it was making me increasingly uncomfortable, and that I was considering breaking the lease with cause as a result. Every time I gave the idea serious thought, however, I came away feeling incredibly shitty about it for the simple fact that Olivia wasn't breaking the rules on purpose. She didn't

want

to have bigger, plumper, juicier tits, and she

certainly

didn't want to unconsciously tease me with her curvy body whenever she finally relaxed her constant, exhausting self-control at the end of a long and uncomfortable day. She hadn't chosen this; it had been done

to

her, without her consent, and it didn't seem fair to punish her for something that she had no control over.

So, things were certainly hard enough for Olivia already, and I believed that if I were to mention my discomfort and force her to wear her mask at home as well, she'd be that much more likely to crack under the pressure and give in to her slutty urges when she was out in public. From what I knew about the Slut Screens, I figured that the devious pleasure she would doubtless get from losing control in public like that would make it that much easier to give in and act like a slut in the future.

Not to mention that she still needed the money, and that she considered me to be a friend that she could rely on to help her get through this. I eventually decided that mentioning my discomfort would likely make life more difficult for Olivia in multiple ways, and so I decided to just stick it out, and to ignore my own physiological reactions to her body and behavior as much as possible.

It wasn't easy though. In addition to her constant bralessness, soon Olivia began changing tops shortly after getting home each day. After her Slut Screening she had taken to wearing slightly looser blouses to work, probably to help hide her larger breasts from her coworkers, but I knew that going against her programming by concealing her enhanced chest like that had to be even more difficult for her, and that likely helped explain the change of clothes once she got home. Thankfully she changed in her room, though I could guess how tempted she probably was to do so in front of me.

Still, the Slut Screen hadn't affected her anywhere near strongly enough for her to fully flash me, and aside from her annoying tendency to flaunt her braless tits a bit more, and maybe to act a bit flirtier with me in general, I was glad to see that Olivia otherwise strictly enforced our original platonic boundaries as much as she was able. Even an innocent question asked out of concern for her well-being would often get a warning glare in response if she thought it was too personal, and

especially

if she thought it was too sexual, which also went a long way toward reassuring me. If anything, Olivia seemed even

more

strict than usual, probably as overcompensation for her behavior.

Even with that reassurance, however, I was still subjected to near-constant subconscious reminders that, despite her determined posturing to the contrary, Olivia was now much more of a sexual being than she had been previously, and that devious, burgeoning sexuality was being reflected in the tops she had begun wearing around the house.

It was clear that she was changing for comfort, but that comfort seemed to come in two opposing, yet equally arousing flavors: on the days when work had tired her out, she'd change into extra-loose blouses made of light, thin material so her free-spirited breasts could be as unencumbered as possible. On the days when she felt a bit spunkier after work, on the other hand, she'd change into much tighter tops with visible cleavage, usually something she would have worn to the club back when leaving the house was an option.

Either choice made things more difficult for me, of course. The large, loose blouses draped themselves across and around her new, perkier tits, emphasizing just how much further off her chest they now hung, and the thin fabric highlighted every bounce and jiggle as Olivia moved around the apartment, to the point where even the slightest motion would cause them to shake and sway delightfully. Plus, Olivia seemed to have a new sixth sense about how to position herself so that every unrestrained movement of her fleshy mounds was as appealing to my eyes as possible, and whenever she noticed I was looking at her, the sheer fabric at the tips of her tits would tent as her nipples stiffened with obvious arousal, to which my body would involuntarily stiffen in kind.

The tighter tops, on the other hand, hugged her figure, emphasizing the disparity between her toned midriff and the large new breasts cradled above them. Plus, she had bought them when she was a smaller cup size, which meant that her cleavage was enhanced just enough to be extra provocative, and even though the tighter tops restricted the movement of her breasts a little, the sheer size of her chest meant that they would still jiggle around with any exertion. Even the slightest shift of her upper body would send small, pleasant ripples across the copious flesh of her tanned chest.

And, since these tops were usually nicer, being intended for going out, and since Olivia couldn't go out anymore due to the danger of the Slut Screens, she would often pair the tighter tops with heavier makeup, making her light flirtations and our interactions on those evenings feel almost like a date.

Whichever clothing she chose, she always made sure to show off her chest to me. When she was in a loose blouse, for example, she might unnecessarily get something out of the top cupboard, forcing her to stand on her tiptoes and lean forward so that her heavy breasts would sag against the thin material of her blouse in my direction. Often she'd pull or yank on whatever was up there, causing her tits to bounce and heave provocatively against the sheer fabric. Inevitably she'd find a reason to put the item back a few minutes later, and so she'd have to repeat the whole process while I tried (and usually failed) to avert my eyes from her exertions.

When she was in her tighter tops, she'd lean over the kitchen counter or the arm of the couch next to me, or cross her arms under her breasts to emphasize her cleavage. She'd do this most often while we were talking, making it impossible for me to hide my glances from her, and her face would flush with pleasure and arousal whenever she caught my eyes momentarily dropping to her chest. The sudden color in her cheeks and on her chest only made her look more attractive, of course, which just made it all the more tempting to steal another glance.

As I gathered from Olivia's reluctant explanations over the next couple of weeks, much of the time her behavior was entirely unconscious if she wasn't specifically exerting effort to keep track of what she was doing, and she often didn't even realize that her actions were anything out of the ordinary. Whenever she did happen to notice that she was showing herself off to me inappropriately, she'd inevitably blush and apologize, though that didn't prevent her from doing the exact same thing five minutes later once it had slipped her mind again.

"Oh, sorry Darren, I wasn't paying attention again," she said guiltily on one such occasion after catching herself arching her back to show off her assets for the third time in fifteen minutes. She forced herself to take on a more neutral posture, though I could tell that it felt unnatural to her, and required a bit of will power to maintain. "It's weird - whenever I get too comfortable and stop thinking about what I'm doing, it never fails that when I notice again, I'm always right in the middle of trying to get you to look at my breasts again."

It was awkward hearing Olivia talking about her body and behavior like this, both because it veered uncomfortably close to the forbidden topic of sexuality, and because it emphasized just how much had changed in the past few weeks, since Olivia never would have had the need to talk about herself like this before.

"It's no problem. I just want you to be able to relax and feel comfortable here."

"I know, but it's still not right to put you in that position. I'm really sorry, and I'll try to do better. Also, remember that I said you don't have to be too uncomfortable around me - since I have to act like this, it's only fair that you be allowed to look too." She smiled a bit too hopefully as she started arching her back again.

"I don't want to look."

"I know! I know. I'm sorry."

Not two minutes later, of course, her nipples were stiffening and poking through her thin top yet again under the influence of my unintentional stare.

"So much for not wanting to look!" Olivia teased flirtatiously, but then her voice turned serious even as she shook her chest for me again. "Just make sure that looking's all you do - if you so much as touch me, you're out of here!"

I felt my ears turning pink with angry embarrassment, both at having been caught staring and at her hypocritical insinuation that

I

was somehow the one in danger of crossing a line, and so I immediately got up and left the room. For a split second, though, I wasn't sure what had made me madder: the insinuation that I might touch her, or the fact that I couldn't.

One day Olivia came home unexpectedly holding a shopping bag full of new clothes and wearing a much skimpier top than I remembered ever seeing on her before. It was a bright red, midriff-bearing crop top, tightly cupping her tits and advertising just how large, perky, and unsupported they were. The next thing I noticed were her breasts themselves, which were, yet again, visibly bigger than they had been this morning, and somehow even perkier, defying gravity as they hung off her thin frame. They bulged out of her revealing top, clearly intended to draw the attention of any man and ensure that his thoughts turned to sex. Between her skimpy clothes and her oversized tits, it would have been immediately apparent to anyone who saw her that she was a Slut Screen victim.

Olivia's hips and thighs were unchanged, but they had always been shapely and attractive, and now they were poured into tight capri leggings with enough rips in them to leave little of her toned legs to my imagination. After her first Slut Screening Olivia had been gorgeous, but with her new tits she was decidedly mouth-watering. It only remained to see how much her behavior had been altered by what was obviously a second Slut Screening, and I was incredibly torn about how much I wanted to find out.

"Olivia, what happened??" I finally asked, shocked to see her in this state, and especially surprised that she had stooped to the level of wearing her slutty new clothes out in public.

"Oh, Darren, it's so stupid! This dumb slut on the train in the seat in front of me was just watching porn on her phone, right out there in the open, probably because she was already so slutty and her tits were so big that it didn't even matter if she got Slut Screened again. I knew I should look away, but then I noticed that the guy in the porno was really hot, and his big cock looked so tasty that I wanted to keep watching for just a few more seconds."

I was flabbergasted to hear my straight-laced roommate talking about tasty-looking cocks as though it were no big deal, but this new Olivia didn't even seem to notice how brazen and vulgar her language had become. "It was like I knew that the guy wasn't really here, so I didn't have to force myself to ignore how I felt and could finally take a second to relax and enjoy myself. So, I thought about how much this random porn star would probably like my big tits, and I leaned forward and cupped them a bit, appreciating how heavy and slutty they feel hanging off my chest like this."

Olivia leaned closer to me and demonstrated, almost touching me with the smooth flesh of her even larger boobs as she hefted and squeezed them right in my face. As surprised as I was at her shameless behavior, so different from the chaste Olivia I remembered, I couldn't help but just stand there, staring hungrily at her massive rack as we both enjoyed the physical arousal coursing through our bodies.

"And this was all

before

being Slut Screened for the second time," she continued, shaking her head in amazement at her earlier behavior as she continued to indecently grope herself. "It seems almost prudish compared to how I feel now, of course, but I must have been

really

horny after work today.

"Anyway, all of a sudden it seemed like the guy's sexy dick started to get a bit blurry, but by that point I had gotten kinda turned on, and I really didn't want to look away." I watched Olivia's cheeks and chest flush a bit at this admission, though I'm not sure whether it was from embarrassment or renewed arousal at the memory. Either way, her eyes began to get glassy and her voice grew increasingly monotonous as she recalled how she had been effortlessly ensnared yet again. "By the time I realized what was really happening, that the slut's phone had become a Slut Screen, it was too late, and I was starting to feel all nice and relaxed again. It just seemed like everything... would be... fine..."

She fell silent for a few seconds as her eyes fully glazed over and her breathing deepened, and her wandering hands began pinching and twisting the thick, stiff nipples poking thimble-sized holes in the front of her tank top. I had no doubt that any guy lucky enough to be on the train while she was getting Slut Screened would have been treated to the same appealing sight, though they would also have gotten to see her perfect tits swelling even larger as she mindlessly groped herself. With effort, I tore my thoughts away from that appealing mental image.

Olivia finally seemed to snap out of it and a bit of life came back into her gaze.

"And then it was over," she said simply. "I woke up and it was like it never happened. It even felt silly that I had wanted to look at the screen in the first place. But then I noticed that my chest felt oddly heavy in my hands, even heavier than it had felt for the past few weeks, and when I looked down I saw that, sure enough, my sexy titties are now even bigger and sluttier than they already were!"

She looked up at me again, her face full of desperation. "It's really not fair, Darren! It just feels so

good

whenever it happens to me, and even though I know I should look away, all I can do is sit there and let myself get brainwashed into even more of a big-boobed slut. I couldn't make myself do anything about it! I thought I was stronger than this!" she complained, squeezing her massive tits at me again for good measure.

My boner came back with a vengeance as I thought about how Olivia hadn't been strong enough to turn away, how she had chosen to just sit there calmly and let the porn on the phone in front of her make her tits even bigger and sluttier. I could see the helplessness in her eyes at the realization that, just like every other woman who had been Slut Screened, she hadn't been able to fight the effects despite her resolve, and that as a result of her weakness her behavior was now even more sexual and less under her control than it had been before. At the same time, I knew she was also struggling with how good it all felt, with how much more powerful her desire to show off her tits was now than it had been this morning.