Roommate Screening, Ch. 01

Roommate Screening – A Slut Screen Story

by Fidget

Chapter 1

I had just moved into town and was looking for a place to live, so I responded to an ad for a spare bedroom in a nice condo that was being rented out. I sent over my information, got back a tentative affirmative response, and headed over to see if the owner and I were a good fit for each other.

The owner, as it turned out, was a gorgeous blonde, fit with great tits. Normally this would be a dream come true, but I’d just gotten out of a difficult long-term relationship, and the last thing I wanted right now was another potential romantic entanglement.

I was somewhat reassured to see that the owner, Olivia, shared my discomfort at the situation. She had been mainly looking for a female roommate, but really needed the money and hadn’t been able to find anyone for the few months that she’d been looking, so when I sent in my application, she decided to give me a chance.

After a few minutes of questions she concluded that I was probably harmless and respectful enough, so she’d be willing to let me rent the spare bedroom as long as I followed her conditions to the letter.

The rental agreement was relatively straightforward, with strict but reasonable requirements for cleanliness and divisions of responsibilities that worked well with my fastidious nature anyway.

There was also an additional clause that either party could terminate the rental agreement at any time for any reason, and Olivia made it clear to me that this was partially to ensure that I didn’t try to come on to her. There was to be zero sexual impropriety of any sort, and I was told in no uncertain terms that she would kick me out at the first sign of it. Given her headstrong, independent nature, I didn’t doubt for a second that she would follow through on her threat.

I immediately agreed to the terms. This was exactly the arrangement I wanted as well, and her decisiveness on the topic went a long way toward assuaging my initial fears of our relationship eventually becoming sexual. I had no intention whatsoever of getting involved with my roommate, no matter how attractive she might be.

I moved in, and for the next few months everything went smoothly. We even became pretty good friends, though Olivia never lost her brusque, no-nonsense demeanor. She also continued enforcing her personal boundaries openly and unreservedly, which was great for me because it made it easy to keep everything strictly platonic.

But that was before the Slut Screens started. Some crazy pervert with a chip on his shoulder somehow created a computer program that could cause any screen in the world to display irresistible hypnotic commands, seemingly at random. Only women were affected, of course, and any woman unlucky enough to be caught watching an infected screen invariably came away from the experience looking and acting a little bit sluttier. The hypnotic commands even triggered breast growth somehow, and scientists were completely at a loss to explain how it did so.

Even worse, the effects were incremental. Each time a victim succumbed to a screen’s mesmerizing influence, her breasts would swell that much larger, her libido would grow that much stronger, and she’d become ever more willing to show off her body and engage in sexual behavior. The victims were fully aware of was happening to them, but as much as they hated it they were inclined to obey the screens’ commands anyway, and were helpless to prevent themselves from being Slut Screened just as easily the next time. Thankfully there didn’t seem to be any loss of intelligence among the affected women – just progressive increases in horniness and bust size accompanied by corresponding shifts in behavior, inhibitions, and fashion sense.

Various attempts at safeguards were implemented, but it was impossible to predict which screen would be affected at which time. One second a billboard would be broadcasting a perfectly normal soft drink ad, and the next second that same ad would suddenly ensnare, enhance, and reprogram every woman watching. It was difficult to even study the signal, for two reasons: first, the chances of a specific screen being affected at any given time were incredibly low, and second, only female researchers could see the telltale flicker that indicated a screen had been hijacked. By the time they noticed it, however, it was already too late, and the researchers would inevitably find themselves undergoing the next series of their own changes. By the time they woke up, bustier and hornier, the screen would be back to normal, they’d be back to square one, and their male coworkers would be that much closer to receiving a topless blowjob.

Unfortunately, screens were far too essential to modern life to be done away with entirely, and while a significant percentage of devices that were deemed unnecessary were decommissioned, it was ultimately left up to the women themselves to take the proper precautions.