Author's Note: 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, all rights reserved. Enjoy!

Roommate Screening - A Slut Screen Story Chs. 1-3

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. As such, it was still all too easy for women to glance at the wrong screen at the wrong time, slip into a pleasant, seemingly innocent daze for a few seconds, only to wake up to bigger tits and an inexplicable new inclination to show them off. More and more women succumbed to the screens' effects over time, many of them more than once, and before long it became common to come across women in various stages of sluttification, clad in revealing tops that advertised breasts varying in size from firm double handfuls all the way up to huge, pendulous udders, all of whom were willing and eager to fuck all cummers.

I tried to protect Olivia as best I could amid the chaos. I unplugged all of the screens in our house and made sure to keep my phone in my room at all times. I ran all of Olivia's errands and shopped for both of us whenever possible so that she could stay safely at home. Instead of getting our entertainment from streaming services, we read books, played board games, and tried to develop new screen-free hobbies. Olivia still had to go to work most days, but her company had transitioned her to paper tasks only, so she was as safe there as she could be too.

These precautions worked well for a few weeks, and it started to seem like Olivia might avoid being affected entirely. All the while, however, her stubborn, independent nature was rebelling more and more strongly against her self-imposed quarantine, and she couldn't help but see herself as a damsel in distress forced to rely on the benevolence and protection of a man.

So, in spite of my protestations, Olivia eventually started leaving the house from time to time, running small errands where she was unlikely to encounter any screens. I tried to reassure her that doing things for her was no trouble, that there was no reason for her to risk going out in public like that, but she told me that she was being careful and that everything would be fine.

I think that in addition to her growing stir-craziness, Olivia was also in denial about the true severity of what was going on. Maybe she thought it would never happen to her, or that she'd somehow be able to resist the effects if it did, but I'm sure the big-breasted sluts throwing themselves at me all week had probably thought the same thing before their first trance too. I knew that it was likely only a matter of time before the odds caught up with Olivia, and that she would find herself to be just as susceptible to the screens' effects as any other woman.

On that fateful day, I could tell as soon as Olivia walked through the front door that her breasts were significantly less supported than they would normally be from the way they bounced and jiggled with her every step. The especially heavy indentations they made against her t-shirt made it seem like they were also noticeably larger than I remembered as well. The outline of her cute little nipples could be clearly seen through the thin material, and I couldn't help but watch the appealing way the fabric pulled and stretched in various directions against her unencumbered melons with each movement.

"Uh, Olivia?" I began hesitantly. It was already apparent what had happened, and from the way she moved around the living room putting down her bags and hanging up her keys as though nothing were wrong, it seemed like the poor girl was completely oblivious to the fact that she'd clearly been exposed to a screen's hypnotic programming. And, knowing how terribly she was likely to take the news, I was not looking forward to having to tell her.

"Yeah?"

"You're not wearing a bra."

"Oh, I know. It just felt better today for some reason to let the girls breathe and bounce around a bit." It was completely out of character for Olivia to talk about her body so casually in front of me, yet at the same time her reply still sounded forced somehow, like she was trying to hide something, so I pressed a bit harder.

"Wait, you went out like that?"

"No, I had it on when I left, but once I got to the grocery store it suddenly started to feel really itchy and constraining, so I took it off. I felt better as soon as I did, so I left it off until I got home." She crossed her arms and shrugged casually, resting her boobs on her forearms in just the right way to make them look appealingly soft and plump.

"Olivia," I said, left with no choice but to break the news. "I think you've been Slut Screened."

"Yes, Darren, I know I've been Slut Screened!" she angrily snapped back, her demeanor having changed in an instant. I could now see the rage and helplessness in her eyes at the knowledge that her body and behavior was no longer entirely under her control. "Trust me, I'm fully aware that I'm not wearing a bra and that my tits are practically on display for everyone, and it's really stressing me out, so if you could just let me be comfortable in my own home, I'd really appreciate it!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry! Of course you can wear whatever you like," I said, trying my hardest not to stare at my voluptuous roommate's delicious tits as they jostled and bounced against each other in her angry exertions. "It's your house, after all. So, what happened?"

"Well, I decided to go to the store to get some ingredients for sandwiches for lunch. I know you told me not to, but I was only going to be in there for a second, so I figured I'd be fine. So much for that idea, right?" she said sarcastically, briefly hefting her significantly larger chest to illustrate her point. My platonic roommate casually flaunting her breasts like this was starting to make me feel uncomfortable, but instinct was instinct, and I was finding it hard to look away from Olivia's new, uncharacteristically alluring body language nonetheless.

"Anyway," she continued, "I was at the deli counter, and happened to glance up at the advertisement screen for like a microsecond, but just then the ad went all fuzzy and started kinda pulsing. The picture hadn't changed, and yet it also very clearly had, somehow. I knew I should look away, that this was probably a Slut Screen, but I suddenly felt so nice and relaxed that it was really hard to worry about anything." Her beautiful green eyes grew glassy as she recalled the sensation, and then her nipples began to thicken and poke even further out against her t-shirt. Her coral lips parted and a soft sigh slipped out. "I just wanted to keep watching for a little bit longer. Everything.. would be... fine...."

I felt my pants tightening in spite of myself, surprised at just how turned on I was as my attractive, confident roommate's voice trailed off and her breathing continued to deepen. I didn't know if whatever was happening would make her tits grow more or something, if that was even possible, so I quickly stepped in to snap her out of the trance she seemed to be slipping into and tried not to stare at her increasingly distracting nipples in the process.

I cleared my throat and spoke up, "Maybe it would be best if you didn't think about it too much!"

"Whaa...? Oh, Darren, yeah, you're probably right. What was I saying?" Her eyes refocused as she shook her head to clear it. This set Olivia's tits jiggling again under her t-shirt, though if she noticed she didn't seem to mind, and she got back to her story. "Ok so anyway, what seemed like a moment later it was already over. The screen looked normal again, and it was like nothing had ever happened. I was a bit weirded out but there wasn't really anything I could do, so I tried to just forget the whole thing and get back to shopping. I did notice that my chest felt oddly heavy for some reason, but I figured it was just psychosomatic.

"A minute later my bra started to itch. I ignored it at first, since by this point I was suspicious that it had something to do with that weird screen effect, but it just got worse and worse over time. Then I began to notice how tight my bra was, and I finally found out why my chest felt so heavy: my tits had swollen so much that my bra straps were cutting into them. Eventually, between the itchiness and feeling like the air was being squeezed out of my lungs I finally gave in and just took the damn thing off, right there in the middle of the store. I immediately felt 100% better, like somehow everything was finally right with the world now that my big, beautiful ladies were swinging freely beneath my top."

I saw her hands gently stroking up and down the sides of her trim abdomen as she recalled how good it had felt to take her bra off in public, and her nipples, which had finally started to settle down a bit, were back with a vengeance, pitching pointy little tents against her t-shirt. I suspected that 'relaxation' hadn't been the only feeling Olivia had experienced during her ordeal.

Her outburst was so sudden I almost tripped.

"And now my breasts are obscenely large thanks to that stupid screen, and I'm stuck showing them off to everyone because it programmed me to think that wearing a bra is too uncomfortable!" she roared. "But that's not even the worst part - for some reason this all feels perfectly natural to me now, like 'why would anyone even want to wear a bra in the first place? It just makes it harder to show off your boobs!' I can't help but like it when guys stare at my tits now, just like you're doing right this moment, Darren! Apparently I'm just a dumb bimbo who wants to go braless and have guys look at my big boobies all day and there's nothing I can do about it!"

I immediately raised my eyes back up to her face, ashamed at having been caught staring under the circumstances. Her anger left just as quickly as it had come, and then Olivia was once again my familiar roommate of six months, just with slightly enhanced tits that happened to be significantly more visible than usual and a worried frown creasing her forehead. Her shoulders sagged helplessly.

"I don't know what to do, Darren. I'm scared."

"It'll be ok," I said, not really knowing what else to say, or whether it actually would be. She came over and pulled me into a hug, and I tried not to notice how good her soft, unencumbered boobs and hard, perky nipples felt against my chest.

Finally she let go and pulled away.

"Thanks, Darren. I really appreciate how great you're being with all of this. I know it can't be easy to have this happen to your roommate."

"No problem. You're the stubbornest person I know, Olivia. If anyone can beat this thing, you can."

She smiled up at me in gratitude, but then I saw her getting mad again. "You know what, you're right! Fuck that guy! I'm the one in charge of my life, and I'm not just gonna let him turn me into some slutty bimbo! I'm going to keep wearing a bra anyway, just to spite him, and I'm not gonna put up with any guy looking at me the wrong way. Thanks roomie, that's exactly what I needed to hear."

"You're welcome," I responded sheepishly, having just realized that I was looking at her boobs again.

"Oh, and Darren?"

"Yeah?" I answered, fully prepared to be chastised for indecently staring at her body now that she seemed to be back to her old self.

"I don't mind if you look, as long as it's just a little bit," she confessed unexpectedly, giving me a wink and an uncharacteristic flirty smile. She jiggled her chest, purposefully this time, causing her heavy tits to sway back and forth under her shirt once more. "I know that this is the conditioning talking, and I fully intend to fight the effects whenever I'm in public, but I really need to be able to relax and feel comfortable at home.

"And, whether I like it or not, feeling comfortable at home currently means going braless and not worrying about whether I happen to be doing something to show off my breasts to a man. So, if you ever see me, uh, showing them off, and you want to look at them for whatever reason, I don't mind. I guess I shouldn't be surprised under the circumstances, but seeing you looking at my boobs makes me feel, um, really nice." Her cheeks turned bright pink at this reluctant admission, and I could tell that, even if she was aware of it, her programming to enjoy male attention was fully having its intended effect on her body.

As quickly as her smile had appeared, however, it was gone again. "Just don't ask me to flash them for you or anything!" she snapped, that familiar hard edge back in her voice as she roughly addressed me. "And don't you dare try to touch me! House rules are still in place, and at the first sign of anything sexual, you are out of here, buster! So don't get any ideas!" At that she turned on her heel, unrestrained breasts bouncing wildly from the sudden movement, marched into her bedroom, and slammed the door.

I retreated to my own room next to hers, saddled with an unwanted, incredibly confused boner that I was entirely too discomfited to do anything about.

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.

“Anyway,” she continued, “that’s when the reality of the whole thing started to sink in. I had been Slut Screened again. I didn’t feel any different, but my huge, sexy tits told me that it was true, and I knew I needed to get ready to resist the new urges that would be coming any second. As soon as I got off the train though, I started to get these intrusive thoughts…” That faraway look came over Olivia’s beautiful face once again.

“It suddenly seemed like such a good idea to show even more of my body off, and to make sure that every man around me saw how fantastic my new tits were. I immediately stripped off my bra and threw it away, right there in the station. It didn’t fit anymore anyway - none of my bras will now.

“It felt sooo good to have my tits hanging freely beneath my top again, but it wasn’t enough! I needed to show my tits off - I couldn’t not show them off. I think the effects are the strongest right after I get Slut Screened, before I have time to get used to it, but anyway, the only thing that kept me from ripping my shirt off right then and there and offering my big, sexy boobies to the nearest man was how disappointed you would be if you saw me, Darren.”

She looked up at me with a radiant smile and pulled me into a hug. It was probably intended as thanks, but all it succeeded in doing was squishing her heavy love pillows against my chest, and driving the thick sexual tension between us even higher as my bulging crotch brushed against hers for the first time. She bit her lip with arousal, and I knew that she could feel my boner against her, aching with need for her hot body as she continued to squeeze it against mine. As she gazed up at me, pressing her swollen tits against my chest so that her soft, sensuous cleavage would be all I saw as I looked down at her, I finally accepted that despite all of my posturing and protestations, I did very much want to fuck Olivia.

The audacity of that thought finally shocked me back to my senses, however, and I decided right then and there that, regardless of how much I might want to fuck Olivia’s increasingly slutty body, there was no way I could take advantage of my poor roommate like that. Especially not in her current state, after what she had gone through. Burning with an uncomfortable combination of shame and arousal I abruptly pushed Olivia away from me, which seemed to snap her out of it as well. She looked up at me with sudden realization of what she had been doing and fought for a second to get control over herself.

“Sorry about that, Darren. I guess I got a little carried away there,” she said sheepishly, though she didn’t seem as torn up about it as she would have this morning, and I could tell that she was still on fire with arousal after our touch. For my part, I could still feel my cock throbbing against my jeans with my own need as she continued with her story, and after only a few seconds she was already unconsciously using her elbows to squeeze her tits together and emphasize her cleavage once again.

“Anyway, back to being on the verge of ripping my shirt off and flashing my sexy new melons at everyone in the train station. Even though I knew you’d be disappointed, I also knew it was inevitable that I’d do something like that eventually; it was like not showing off my body wasn’t even an option anymore.

“The only solution I could think of if I wanted to keep my shirt on was to find a way to make my shirt show more skin somehow. There was no way to do that with my blouse, so the only option was to go shopping for something skimpier. So, like the dumb, big boobed brainwashed slut that I apparently am now, I of course went straight to the mall and bought this!" she said, gesturing down at herself as she sarcastically struck a pose. Sarcastic or not, however, she made sure I had a perfect view of her massive boobs jiggling over her bare midriff as she did so.

“But, as it turns out, all of that effort was for no reason, since on the way home I felt so sexy in my new outfit that I just flashed a guy anyway, without even thinking about it. Just pulled my shirt up and let ‘em hang, and I loved the look on the guy’s face as he stopped to stare. And the worst part is how good and natural it felt to do it. Heck, I could do it again...”

I watched silently as Olivia’s hands stole down from her udders to first tease at, and then to grip and pull at the hem of her midriff-bearing top, twisting the fabric over itself as she fought her temptation to do exactly the same thing for me. I just sat there in fascination, telling myself that my inaction was because I wasn’t sure how I could help, and not because I didn’t want to interfere just in case she ended up losing her battle with her inner slut.

Ultimately her resolve won out, and she forced herself to smooth out the hem of her top before continuing, her voice now tinged with helpless frustration.

"And the worst part is that I can’t help but think that this is all normal now, that this ridiculous outfit looks cute on me, of all things! I love my big, slutty tits now, Darren, did you know that? I want them hanging out of these tiny tops for everyone to see! Why shouldn’t I flash my sexy boobies at men - I know they want to see them and feel their cocks getting hard just as much as I want to show them off, so what’s the problem? What about you, Darren? Do you like looking at my big boobies too?”

It was too much. I nodded in spite of myself, my gaze locked onto the massive orbs straining against the thin fabric.

“Well stop it!” she suddenly spat out with such vehemence that it startled me out of my daze. Olivia’s cheeks were now burning with anger where they had been burning with arousal.

“You were right about me the first time, Darren! I am stronger than this thing, and I’m your roommate, so quit acting like I’m just some slut! And I don't care if the Slut Screens have programmed me to think that I’ll look like a frumpy old maid - I refuse to wear these outside!” She threw the bag of clothes on the floor, spilling low-cut tops, tight pants, and revealing lingerie all over the living room. “I'm not gonna let that pervert beat me!"

"That's great Olivia!” I said encouragingly, desperately trying to look at my roommate’s attractive face instead of her attractive chest as I spoke. She seemed to have already forgotten about not wanting me to look at her though, and was once again matter-of-factly cupping and jiggling her heavy chest at me as I continued. “Still, you really need to be more careful when you go outside. I know you’re stronger than this thing, and I’m confident that you can beat it, but the Slut Screens are still affecting you at least physically-” I gestured at her enhanced bust, trying to ignore her sharp intake of breath at the attention “-and each time it happens it makes things that much more difficult for the both of us.”

“You’re right,” Olivia sighed. Her enthusiasm was a bit muted, but her confidence remained unshaken. “I’ll be more careful, and I promise it won’t happen again! And I’ll be sure to behave myself when I’m at home with you. Or, I’ll try to at least, since you know better than I do what happens when I get too comfortable nowadays.” She grinned and crossed her arms under her boobs, making them look even perkier. I couldn’t tell if she was doing it ironically or not.

"Still,” she continued, “I might have to wear these inside, at least every once in a while." She looked wistfully at the skimpy pieces of fabric strewn across the floor. "I need someone to know how good I look in this." She leaned forward and winked as she groped herself again, giving me yet another eyeful of bouncing breastflesh as it threatened to spill out of her top. I tried not to think about how good it would feel to grab and squeeze those massive tits, or about the fact that at this point, in spite of her renewed resolve, Olivia would probably let me.

"And I know that part of this is the programming talking, and that I shouldn't even suggest it because of our agreement, but if you ever wanted to take a peek, y’know, underneath, I don't know that I could turn you down anymore," she confessed, her cheeks bright with Schrödinger’s flush once more.

She sat there expectantly after this latest admission, fidgeting with her hem yet again, and I knew that she expected me to ask to see her tits so she could show them off to me. This was both the first thing and the last thing I wanted now that I’d managed to calm myself down a little. So much for behaving herself. "Uh, I don't think so Olivia, but I appreciate the offer."

"Of course," she replied, clearly a bit disappointed in spite of herself. "You're such a good, respectful roommate, Darren. I don't deserve you." She reached over to put her hand on my waist as though she were going to pull me into another hug, and when I didn’t move toward her she left it there for a second too long before reluctantly pulling it away. My skin tingled where her manicured fingers had touched me through my shirt.

Olivia flitted restlessly around the apartment in her revealing new outfit the rest of the afternoon, always ready to turn her tits towards me and manhandle them for my benefit at the tiniest indication that she thought I wanted to see them, cheeks pink with arousal each time. I knew that she was only giving in to her compulsions so often because she was trying to relax and recover from her horribly trying day, but her sexier body and increasingly slutty behavior was keeping me in a pretty constant state of arousal myself.

I finally suggested that we play our favorite board game that evening to ease the tension, which turned out to be a great idea, because now that she had something on her mind other than her constant compulsion to act like a slut for me, suddenly it was almost like things were back to normal between us.

Still, every time I happened to look up at her while we were playing, where my roommate should be I was instead confronted with the image of a gorgeous, scantily-clad slut with giant tits straight out of the wettest of my wet dreams, one who was more than happy to give me a glowing smile and squeeze her soft cleavage together whenever she caught me looking. I thought about how much heavier her bulging tits must be now than they had been before, and how much more natural it must feel for Olivia to show them off, which was indicated not only by her new willingness to get aggressively handsy with her chest, but also by her obvious, barely restrained desire to fully flash me. All of this let me know just how much more difficult my living arrangements were going to get now that my roommate had been Slut Screened a second time. Even so, I couldn’t help but enjoy my natural response to looking at her arousing body, and in spite of myself I could tell that I was becoming more and more addicted to the sensation.

That first night after her second Slut Screening, before Olivia went to bed she stopped me outside of our neighboring bedrooms. "Hey, Darren, um, thanks for being so great about all of this." She gently took my hand and pulled me a bit closer to her curves. It flashed through my mind that her slut programming was making her do so, and I felt my blood flow start to redirect itself southward again.

"This has been a really hard time for me, and you've been nothing but a gentleman. Any other guy would have taken advantage of me as soon as he saw, well, these." She arched her back, and I greedily drank in the sight of her stiff nipples atop the soft, bouncy mounds of her even larger breasts, pressing tightly against the thin fabric of her new “nightie” that was really just sheer lingerie. Somehow I still hadn’t gotten used to just how much bigger her new tits were than the already-enhanced bust Olivia had sported just yesterday.

When I was finally able to tear my eyes back up to her face, I saw my own insistent need mirrored in the intensity of her gaze. Her slut programming must be hitting her especially hard with us being this close to each other, right next to her bedroom. How easy it would be to take advantage of the situation! Platonic roommate or not, my sexual instincts were reacting strongly to her visible arousal and hyper-feminine body, and I can’t say I wasn’t tempted. But that had been the entire point of our original deal - I didn’t want to be tempted!

"Anyway," she continued breathlessly, "thanks for being such a great guy." She leaned up on her tiptoes and gave me a short, brief kiss on the lips.

I knew that I should pull away, but I just stood there and let it happen. I told myself that it was because I was too stunned to do anything about it, and not because her soft lips and firm, heavy chest felt absolutely wonderful against me.

As I gave in to my urge to wrap my arms around her and pull her in even closer though, Olivia abruptly broke away from the kiss, and when I looked down at her in surprise, I saw that her eyes were cold, and her smile inverted.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she exclaimed angrily. “Yes I probably shouldn’t have kissed you, but you know I’m not fully in control of myself, and that doesn’t give you the right to just have your way with me!” That thought was more appealing than she’d anticipated, however, and a low moan slipped out between her soft lips before she could catch it. She ignored her momentary weakness and continued. "Even if I have been Slut Screened a few times, I’m still the one in charge around here, so if I need to relax my boundaries around you a bit from time to time, you’ll just have to deal with it. I’m not going to let you take advantage of me, so don’t even think of trying anything!"

The next second her massive tits had violently bounced themselves into her dark room and disappeared, and she slammed the door behind her.

I immediately retreated into my own room as well, dropping my hand to start rubbing my aching cock through my shorts as soon as the door was closed. I quickly stripped and jumped into bed, squirming as I stroked myself, hornier than I'd ever been in my life. My hand was soon coated in my slick pre-cum, but I fapped faster and faster, thinking about my roommate's big tits and sexy body and increasingly slutty behavior, remembering the kiss, imagining those soft lips bobbing up and down on my- "Aghh! Nghhh..." I moaned as my cock abruptly erupted onto my chest.

While I reluctantly rode out one of the strongest orgasms of my life, I couldn't be sure, but I thought I could hear light, high-pitched sighs and gasps of female pleasure filtering through our shared bedroom wall.

Chapter 3

Life continued for the two of us, and we soon settled into a new routine around the house that took into account my poor roommate’s even greater inclination toward slutty behavior.

Even with all of her physical and mental changes though, if anything, Olivia seemed much happier and more at-ease than she had after getting Slut Screened the first time. I suspected that her stronger second conditioning had made it significantly easier for her to give in to her slutty new tendencies around me, to the point that she didn’t even notice the constant sexual tension filling the apartment anymore. Or maybe she did notice, but her programming had convinced her that this was the natural state of existence between men and women and that she should just relax and enjoy the constant temptations of sex. I couldn’t deny that a part of me was enjoying it very much as well, as much as I tried to ignore it.

Whatever the case, Olivia was clearly starting to like what her programming was doing to her now. She hummed contentedly as she bustled around the apartment during the mornings and evenings, her even larger breasts bouncing enticingly in the small, paper-thin tops she’d begun wearing. These were always paired with tiny shorts or short skirts, both of which rode high enough to show off the smooth, creamy skin of the bottoms of her asscheeks, and the shorts were tight enough that I could see the outline of her cute little mound.

I tried my best not to look, of course, knowing that Olivia’s clothing choices at home were no longer under her control, but by this point it had become second nature for Olivia to tease me with her body whenever she had the chance, which made it increasingly difficult to resist the impulse to appreciate the exaggerated femininity of her enhanced figure.

The whole time she’d look at me with that warm, flirtatious smile, clearly enjoying the arousal that rushed through her finely-tuned body whenever I gave in to temptation and ogled her. This was more often than I’d like to admit, because principles or not, my body enjoyed looking at hers just as much.

This bubbly new Olivia had even begun making breakfast for me, and every morning when I finally emerged from my room after a quick wank to try to keep my libido under control, she’d squeal and run over to me, wrapping me in a tight hug that she’d hold for far too long, until she was sure that I’d thoroughly appreciated the sensation of her firm tits being squished against my chest. Apparently her most recent Screening had made her lose some of her reticence to touch me, so long as she was the one initiating contact.

Eventually she’d loosen her grip so that she could hold me at arm’s length and arch her back for me, and I’d look down every time, my eyes drawn like magnets to the sight of the nipples atop her huge mounds tightening against the thin fabric.

She’d wink naughtily at me, acknowledging the strong mutual desire we were feeling but weren’t supposed to act on, before happily bouncing over to the counter to grab breakfast. This of course involved bending over to show off her toned legs and heart-shaped ass, both of which drew my gaze to her thigh gap and filled my head with thoughts of all of the intense carnal pleasure just waiting to be found there.

I rarely finished breakfast, mostly due to my attention being focused on the way Olivia groped and squeezed her massive tits with one hand while she ate with the other. She’d smirk at me even as her skin flushed and she began panting with arousal, almost as though she were proud of how her brainwashed mind made her get off on advertising her body’s potential for sex to a man.

Still, even with how much more difficult her behavior was making things for me, Olivia seemed happier than I’d seen her in a long time, and I didn’t want to mess that up for her, even if that happiness was only due to her increasing acceptance of how much sluttier she’d become.

At the same time though, her constant teasing was really starting to make me uncomfortable, in multiple ways. A significant portion of this discomfort felt really good, of course, but that just increased my growing irritation at how the new status quo of our living arrangements was forcing my body to react to hers. Olivia may not have been able to resist her conditioning when she felt safe and comfortable at home, but I was equally unable to just turn off my body’s instinctive lust for hers, and at this point, whenever Olivia was home I was stuck walking around the apartment with a constant semi-chub that frequently stiffened to a full, throbbing mast of unrelieved sexual tension whenever she decided to turn on the charm.

And she turned on the charm quite often, because her heightened awareness of my body and behavior ensured that Olivia noticed and encouraged my predicament. Her eyes would frequently flick down to my crotch, and I saw the barely-restrained hunger in her eyes. I could tell that getting Slut Screened twice had made her increasingly fascinated with my cock, even if she was still in control of herself enough to keep from acting on those desires. So far, at least.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t true of her desire to show off her new assets.

When Olivia got home from work the day after being Slut Screened for the second time, she immediately went into the bedroom and came out holding one of her new tops, a tight, midriff-bearing halter top. Then, with no warning whatsoever, Olivia abruptly whipped off her work blouse right there in the living room, subjecting me to a brief, fully-naked flash of her amazing new tits bouncing around before she squeezed them into her top.

The Slut Screens had done their work well: just like countless other women, my poor roommate’s breasts had also obediently swollen into large, perfectly-shaped teardrops of appealing flesh hanging high and perky on her chest, much higher than should have been possible at their size. It briefly occurred to me that getting Slut Screened must also strengthen a girl’s back muscles, because otherwise Olivia would definitely have experienced some back pain by now.

Either way, the improvements made a clear impression on me. Though I’d only seen her naked chest for about a second, I knew it was an image that would haunt my mind and test my restraint for the foreseeable future.

Covering them up hadn’t helped much either, since her new top was just as bad. It clung tightly to her enhanced figure, emphasizing the fullness of her new tits while showing off her dark areolas and her stiff, excited nipples. They seemed so much bigger than the ones I remembered sticking out through the material of her blouses over the past few weeks. Even worse, now that Olivia had unwisely revealed every inch of her beautiful torso to me, I knew exactly what they looked like underneath her skimpy new clothing. From the sly look on Olivia’s face, I realized that this had been the entire point.

"Um, Olivia, do you really need to change in here?" I objected so mildly that not even I was convinced that I wanted her to stop.

"Darren, they're just tits, don't be so uptight," she responded dismissively, though her tone contrasted sharply with the glow of satisfied arousal in her cheeks at having finally revealed her glorious new boobs to me. She bounced her hips back and forth a few times to settle her ladies comfortably in their precarious new homes, high above the smooth skin of her abdomen. Now that her little show was over, Olivia went about her afternoon as usual, though now with her larger tits and tighter, stretchier top lending a… bouncier note to her activities than I was used to, with the added risk of her tits constantly threatening to spill out of her cleavage.

Worse, Olivia seemed to take the weakness of my initial objection as encouragement (which, I’m ashamed to say, wasn’t entirely untrue), and so under the influence of her slutty conditioning my supposedly platonic roommate continued to create opportunities to be topless around me.

That night she came out of the shower with towels around her waist and on her head, leaving her naked torso to air-dry in all of its soft, jiggly glory as beads of water dripped down her flawless skin. I tried not to think about how hard it must have been for her not to forego the lower towel as well.

When I objected, she let out a cutely petulant “humph” before reluctantly shimmying her lower towel up her midsection to cover her naked chest, though this just turned me on even more as her heavy, uncovered breasts bounced and jiggled with the movement. Plus, by the time she was finally done covering herself her towel had ridden high enough to reveal a dangerous amount of creamy thigh, and hinted at what was practically begging to be exposed behind that final centimeter of towel. The thought of whether Olivia was tastefully trimmed or fully shaved brought my cock to full mast, and I found myself hoping that her towel would ride up just a bit so that I could satisfy my lust-fueled curiosity.

I shook my head to clear it. I was getting far too worked up. This was Olivia for God’s sake, the girl who had once told me that I shouldn’t even look at her without her permission, and here I was objectifying her body as though she were just some sort of sex toy! This was my roommate and my friend, who was being made to act like this against her will! It didn’t matter how much she was being forced to enjoy her slutty behavior, how much she now wanted to be objectified, or how much we’d both enjoy giving in to our impulses and using her new body as the sex toy it was designed to be – the point was that my friend, the old Olivia, would have been horrified by all of this, and I had to respect that.

I decided we needed to have another talk, here and now. “Olivia, I’m sorry, but this is just too much. You have to make more of an effort to keep our relationship platonic. I know you’re probably being bombarded with new, stronger urges now from your second Slut Screening, but being topless in front of me like this is more than I can handle, and makes it really hard to not think about you sexually.”

Olivia gasped softly and her cheeks turned pink at the admission that I was thinking about her sexually, and her fingers began to unconsciously fidget with the lower hem of her towel, gently tugging at it as though to convince it to slip back down and reveal her nipples again. This time, however, I didn’t give in, and kept my stare leveled at her beautiful eyes.

A second later she visibly deflated and regained a bit of control over herself. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry Darren; I’ll try to remember not to go topless, but my stupid weak brain keeps making me feel sooo slutty around you now. I know that I wanted us to stay all boring and platonic, but I’ve decided that I really love my new tits, and it feels so harmless and fun and, well, natural to use them to tease a big, strong man like you, especially when I’m feeling all safe and happy and sexy at home. I just want you to like my big boobs as much as I do…” she said, letting her voice trail off expectantly as she arched her back for me again.

The fact that Olivia had commented on her own attraction to my body for the first time wasn’t lost on me, but I managed to keep myself from crossing a line and confessing to Olivia that, yes, I liked her big, sexy boobs a little too much, knowing that it would only make it harder for Olivia to resist titillating me further. The fact that I liked them so much was exactly the problem, after all.

At that point I just let the conversation drop. It wasn’t the most promising conclusion, but at least she’d promised to try to stop going topless. I knew how hard it must be to resist her programming, effectively being forced to fight against her own mind, and I also knew how necessary her comfort at home was to her success, especially now that she’d inadvertently let herself be sluttified even further.

I couldn’t imagine the willpower it must take to hide all of her new sexual inclinations out in public, though I got a few hints from how vehemently she hated getting ready for work.

Olivia now knew, on a deep, instinctual level, that her sexy body existed to be shown off, that she was supposed to use her new tits to tease guys and make their increasingly tasty cocks all hard for her, which meant that covering herself up to go out in public had to feel deeply wrong, almost profane. I could tell that it went against all of her new impulses to hide the brazen sensuality of her new figure under frumpy work blouses and long, professional skirts and pants.

Still, as strongly as Olivia had been programmed to enjoy being a slut and to love showing off her new knockers, she was also aware that she’d been programmed to enjoy these things, and she was still staunchly committed to her decision to fully resist her impulses when out in public, no matter how uncomfortable it made her, or how difficult it became to keep a handle on her behavior.

So, as much as Olivia clearly wanted to wear the new clothes she’d bought herself outside the house, she managed to force herself not to. Every morning she’d wait until the very last second to put on her work clothes, and then I’d hear her sigh miserably as she made her daily choice to go against her instincts and pick frumpy over slutty, boring and conservative over revealing and form-fitting.

There was, however, one encroachment of her new, sluttier programming on her self-control: Olivia now seemed unable to make herself wear a bra altogether.

When I pointed out to her that first morning before work that her melons were making a surprising amount of movement under her blouse, she just jiggled her chest at me, tits tumbling under the loose fabric, and said "Silly Darren, nobody wears bras anymore".

This was probably true, and that would have been that, but I could see in her eyes behind her confident demeanor that what had really happened is that Olivia had desperately tried to put on a bra, and had failed. And not because it no longer fit (which was also true), but because she no longer had the strength of will or self-control to make herself do so when the prospect of letting her heavy tits bounce freely felt so satisfyingly slutty.

So, Olivia went to work bra-less now. It did make her breasts a bit easier to see, especially with her prominent new nipples, but if she kept sudden movements to a minimum it probably wouldn’t occur to most onlookers that she’d ever been Slut Screened. Which was simultaneously the first and the last thing Olivia wanted.

Aside from her wardrobe choices, I knew that it also had to be getting more difficult to resist her desire to show off her body to men outside the house, and so I asked her about it one day after she got home from work. As she gave me her shockingly candid answer, I lamented how much more willing she had become to openly discuss her body and her progressing sluttification than she ever would have been before getting Slut Screened.

“It’s hard. Like, really hard,” she sighed, glancing down inappropriately at my crotch, but then her eyes got a faraway look in them now that she was safely at home, and she allowed herself to think about just how many delicious men with sexy cocks she had to ignore on a daily basis now, before finally snapping back to reality to answer the question.

“I mostly just act like they don’t exist, but that really only works because I can look forward to acting more naturally around you, Darren, when I get home.” She walked over and wrapped me in an affectionate hug, looking up at me with that infectious smile that she knew by now drove me crazy. My dick began to swell for the zillionth time as I involuntarily appreciated the feel of her soft body against mine. “If I didn’t know I could be myself at home, I honestly don’t think I’d be able to resist all of the slutty things that my programming is constantly trying to get me to do out in public.”

“My boss even told me today that I’m a lot less friendly now than I used to be,” she grumbled playfully, changing her expression to an exaggerated pout that sorely tempted me to bend down and give her pursed lips a kiss. “And I’ve got to tell you, that really made me want to be friendly, Darren, especially now that I can’t stop thinking about just how friendly I can be to men like you.”

She pulled me even more tightly against her, crushing her tits against my chest, and began a gentle gyrating motion of her crotch against mine. It was subtle enough for her to feign innocence, but by this point my body was on high alert for even the smallest sign of sexual interest from Olivia, and I could feel every single slight movement through my clothes as she very slowly gyrated her torso against the sensitive underside of my cock.

“But, you know what?” she continued, staring directly into my eyes as her body continued its barely-perceptible movements against mine. My cock was throbbing by now, and I knew she could feel it, but I couldn’t seem to make myself pull away. “I just ignored him and kept working, like I always do when I see a man at work. I make sure that I’m as cold and standoffish as possible to every man I see when I’m outside, because I know that that’s what you’d want me to do.”

“Sometimes it gets to be too much, though,” she said, biting her lip as a bit of color spread across her cheeks and ample cleavage at her next admission. “Like today, for example. After my boss said that, I couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it would feel to just give in and be a bit more friendly to him. It got so bad that I almost went to his office to see him, to make it up to him privately. Instead, I locked myself in the restroom so I could spend some time… thinking about just how friendly I wanted to be to my boss and to all of the other guys I see around me all the time.

“Darren, I could be sooo friendly to them,” she sighed, exasperated at just how appealing all of the deliciously naughty acts the Slut Screens had filled her mind with seemed to her now, and all the while she continued to mindlessly rub her oversexed body against me.

“But then I think about you, Darren. I remember that I don’t want to be friendly out in public. I know that, even though it seems like I really want to be friendly to my boss, and that it would be so easy to give in and make him feel good, the real me doesn’t want that. The real me wants to be friendly to you.”

That didn’t seem quite right, but Olivia kept going, and so did her tight torso.

“Because, I know that you’re always here, waiting for me, and that when I’m with you I don’t have to worry about whether I’m being slutty or not. I can just let myself go…” Olivia’s eyes were now half-closed as her words began to trail off and she allowed herself to fully embrace the slutty desires that felt so natural to her now.

She reached down to the hem of her shirt and began slowly, deliberately pulling it up, still staring at me with those half-lidded eyes, and I just stood there and watched as my brainwashed roommate once again gave in to her slutty urge to show off her glorious breasts to me. Her crotch was now openly massaging my bulge as she squeezed her naked chest against mine, her nipples so stiff with her arousal that they were practically drilling holes in my shirt. I thought about how close her vagina was to my cock through those few thin layers of clothing, about how soaked she must be, ready for me to slide in, and I felt myself starting to get close. I wouldn’t be able to control myself much longer.

Then, all of a sudden, her beautiful eyes came back into focus as she snapped herself out of it, and she sighed again in frustration as she slowly pulled her top back down her slim waist, reluctantly keeping up the charade of hiding her boobs under a thin, translucent layer of fabric.

This time, however, she looked up at me with a face full of that old stubbornness and determination, and I felt like I was finally seeing my roommate again for the first time in days. “And, I know that you believe in me, and want me to beat this thing. And that’s what keeps me going. No matter what, I’m not gonna let that pervert turn me into a slut!”

And then Olivia abruptly pulled away from me and fled the room, leaving both of us unsatisfied, craving more of that warm, dangerous touch and the inevitable destination it would lead to.

It took a while for my erection to fully subside, leaving me once again frustrated, confused, and blue-balled.

Author's Note: 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, all rights reserved. Enjoy!

Perfect Girlfriend Juice

by Fidget

Chapter 5: The Gold-Digger (Part 1)

Elizabeth arrived home late, drunk again after a long night at the bar, trying to make a better life for her and her teenage daughter, or at least that’s what she told herself.

When she let herself into the kitchen of the large, empty house that they wouldn’t be able to afford for much longer, she wasn’t surprised that her daughter was nowhere to be found. Probably in her room mooning over that boy in her class again.

Elizabeth noticed an energy drink can sitting on the counter, but when she picked it up, she saw that it was only half-finished. ”Perfect Girlfriend Juice”? Isn’t this the stuff from the news that drugs and changes women? What on earth is my daughter doing with something like this? Suddenly struck with unexpected worry, Elizabeth called out:

“Tracy? Are you here?”

“Elizabeth? You’re home late, as usual. I’m absolutely shocked that none of the millionaires at the bar decided to take you home tonight.”

Elizabeth was taken aback by the deep, mature feminine voice that responded, as well as the fact that the voice had referred to her by name when she was expecting a response from her daughter, and then an incredibly voluptuous woman around her age came out of the living room into the kitchen. As she took in her looks, however, Elizabeth became even more confused, because this unknown woman’s resemblance to herself was uncanny - whoever she was, she could have been Elizabeth’s bustier, curvier, even more brazen and shameless sister.

“Who are you? Where’s Tracy?” Elizabeth noticed that her busty double had squeezed herself into one of her own more revealing tops and skirts, showing an ample amount of full breast and thick thigh in the process. “And why are you wearing my clothes? What’s going on!?”

“I am Tracy, Elizabeth, though I think I’m going by Trina now, actually.”

Tracy then told her speechless mother what had happened, from her crush on Tyler, to her ill-advised choice to drink half a can of Perfect Girlfriend Juice to pursue that crush, to overhearing that Tyler had really been crushing on Elizabeth, which had then irrevocably turned Tracy into an over-sexed version of her own mother.

Still, Elizabeth couldn’t prevent a twinge of vanity from leaking through as Tracy told her how Tyler had really been interested in her and not Tracy; as inappropriate as it was under the circumstances, Elizabeth still felt proud that her older, curvy milf body was still desirable enough for men to get crushes on her. If only it worked as well on rich young millionaires at the bar as it apparently did on horny, penniless eighteen-year-olds.

Tracy/Trina noticed her mother’s look of smug self-satisfaction, and cocked an eyebrow as she continued her story, almost as if to say, “hey, the Juice is forcing me to get off on the idea of being with younger guys - what’s your excuse?” before launching into an incredibly detailed, X-rated narration of how she had seduced Tyler that afternoon.

Elizabeth watched aghast as her mature daughter’s face and cleavage flushed darker and darker pink as she recounted how good the strapping young man’s cock had felt, and how quickly he had given in and emptied himself into Trina’s milfy pussy. Clearly even the thought of the events of the afternoon were enough to get her daughter going again, and it was incredibly unsettling for Elizabeth to recognize her own signs of physical arousal reflected in what was essentially a sexier version of herself, especially since the person burning with that arousal was her own daughter. It didn’t help that Elizabeth herself hadn’t felt sexual excitement like that in years.

In short, what had happened to Tracy had been a catastrophe. “Tracy, you’ve made yourself old!” was the first protest she could come up with.

“I prefer the term ‘experienced’. And it’s what Tyler wants, so I couldn’t be happier.”

“But what about your future that I’ve worked so hard for!?”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll always be whatever Tyler needs me to be, which right now is a milfier, sexier version of you for him to play with. Also, don’t act like any of what you’re doing is for me - if you really cared, you’d have gotten a stable job after dad left, instead of frittering away all of our savings hopelessly throwing yourself at sugar daddies you had no chance with, all to support your lifestyle of never having to work a day in your life.”

Unlike her former meek teenage self, the Juice had clearly filled Tracy with a mature assertiveness, as well as the perspective that came with her age and years of experience. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’m going to go frig my puffy, horny milf pussy at the thought of Tyler cumming inside me again tomorrow. Don’t wait up, ‘Mom’.”

And with that, Elizabeth watched the bustier, hornier version of her forty-two-year-old body sway up the stairs into a pink bedroom still filled with the trappings of her daughter’s former self.

Left to her own tipsy thoughts at the disappearance of her daughter in more ways than one, Elizabeth looked over at the can on the counter, and in a flash of anger picked it up and carried it over to the sink, prepared to pour the evil stuff down the drain. This crap had stolen her daughter from her, had turned her against her, had transformed Tracy into a slutty version of Elizabeth straight out of a teenager’s wet dreams…

Wait.

Elizabeth stopped herself with her arm tilted above the sink, before she could pour the priceless liquid down the drain. If this stuff had turned Tracy into the Perfect Girlfriend of a horny, milf-obsessed teenager, then it could just as easily turn her into the Perfect Girlfriend of a millionaire sugar daddy.

Hell, with this stuff Elizabeth could get whatever guy she wanted, and she wouldn’t even have to lift a finger! Plus, these new money tech bros all wanted young blondes with huge tits, so she’d probably even end up at least ten years younger and with a free body makeover to boot, no more expensive and painful surgery needed! And if she had to put up with being a bit sluttier as a result, well, with a body like that, it was only fair that she enjoy a good dicking down from time to time. Especially since it was for a good cause.

If all went well, she could even just swap identities with Tracy and act as though her daughter were her own curvy milf mother.

Elizabeth could barely sleep that night in her excitement, and spent the next day putting her plan together. She put on her best dress and makeup, not that she’d really need either much longer, and carefully slipped the small, half-full can of Perfect Girlfriend Juice into her clutch before she left.

At 9pm sharp she showed up to the most exclusive private club in town, practically guaranteed to find a handsome, jacked billionaire who could continue to fund her lifestyle once she made herself irresistible to him.

As it turned out, she’d chosen the perfect night for her hunt: apparently there was a fundraiser for an up-and-coming tech nerd out of Silicon Valley. Normally someone like her would have no chance getting into an event like this, but luckily she’d once fucked the bouncer, and he was willing to let her slip in with the promise of an encore later that night.

Now that she was in, Elizabeth immediately got to work. She knew better than to expect that one of these young millionaires in tailored name-brand suits would be willing to buy someone like her a drink, so she bit the bullet and plopped down the $30 for a vodka cranberry before beginning to make the rounds.

She worked her way through the crowd, ignoring Rolexes and chiseled jaws now that she no longer had to settle for whatever she could get, bumping into younger, prettier versions of herself playing the same game she was, trying to find a Mr. Right Now to manipulate into becoming Mr. Right. Or at least, a Mr. On-the-hook-for-my-expensive-lifestyle.

Finally, in a secluded corner of the room, Elizabeth overheard a young man dressed in an especially expensive suit talking about his company being on the verge of billions of dollars. She quickly put together that this was the CEO who had hosted the event, and that the “fundraiser” was being thrown in honor of one of his tech nerds to drum up private investment in anticipation of getting the nerd’s new semiconductor fabrication process up and running.

Elizabeth didn’t care about any of that, of course; she only cared that this guy was currently worth millions, would likely be worth billions in just a few years, and was jacked and gorgeous to boot.

She made up her mind on the spot - this was her guy.

She innocuously walked around the corner toward the restrooms and pulled out the can of Perfect Girlfriend Juice, but just as she was about to pour it into her vodka, a young, pretty brunette with a slim figure and cunning eyes softly touched her arm to get her attention.

“Is that the Juice?” The girl’s eyes were greedy.

“Yeah, why?”

“I heard it doesn’t take much - can I have some too?” She lifted her own drink in supplication.

“You know what, why not.” I already have my target, and there are plenty of other men to go around, after all. She poured half of the can’s remaining contents into the brunette’s glass, and the rest into her own.

“Good hunting,” she saluted, but the young brunette was already gulping hers down, so Elizabeth just shrugged and followed suit. The Juice tasted like tangy bubble gum; not the worst mixer she’d ever tried.

Almost immediately Elizabeth felt an unexpectedly strong yearning for masculinity growing inside her the likes of which she hadn’t felt in years.

The brunette next to her was forgotten, though she too was now filled with that same irresistible need, and wandered off to helplessly enslave herself to the first man she saw.

Suddenly Elizabeth understood the look on Trina’s face as she recounted her experience becoming Tyler’s Perfect Girlfriend - Elizabeth’s desire to leverage her fading looks into snagging a sugar daddy was now only a dim memory that paled in comparison to her new, deep-seated urge to be in the presence of a man, any man, rich or poor, handsome or hideous, so that the Juice could force her to become whatever he wanted in a woman.

The vulnerability of her situation should have scared her, but it was too late for that. All she could do now was find the nearest man in what was now only incidentally a room full of millionaires.

In the back of her mind she vaguely remembered that she had wanted to go see a specific man, but in her current state that suddenly seemed so much less important when literally any guy could fulfill that visceral curiosity growing stronger within her with every passing second. Still, she knew that her original target was right around the corner, and his proximity combined with the fact that she knew exactly where he was was just enough to convince Elizabeth to go looking for him instead of seeking out another equally enticing man.

She whipped back around the corner and accidentally locked eyes with a short, scrawny nerd headed for the restrooms. Even though he immediately broke her gaze and uncomfortably averted his eyes, he was still male, and so Elizabeth felt herself falling, with irrevocable finality, head over heels in love with him.

“Excuse me!” she blurted out, unable to hold back her torrent of curiosity any longer as he charmingly shrank from her gaze and tried to sneak past.

“Wh-what?” her cute, awkward-looking crush stammered, clearly surprised that any of the women in the club was making an attempt to engage him in conversation.

“What do you like in women?” Elizabeth watched his eyes flick down to the cleavage her milfy breasts were making in her favorite black dress as he instinctually considered the question, causing the dosed 42-year-old to squirm with pleasure at the attention.

“What is this, some sort of a joke?” he asked unexpectedly in a sudden flash of indignant anger, knowing all too well from experience that these sorts of questions were only ever asked at his expense.

Just as Elizabeth recoiled from having offended her dream guy, however, two men in expensive-looking suits appeared from the crowd, grabbed her man’s twiggy arms and roughly turned him around.

“Hey, Norm, it’s time to go press the flesh, whether you want to or not! Gotta earn your paycheck after all!”

“B-but I was told that I wouldn’t be paid for toni-”

“Well then I guess it’s time to go not earn your paycheck!” The other businessman cackled at his partner’s joke, and began to drag the young nerd away.

“HEY!” The vehemence in Elizabeth’s voice as it cut through the gibes and cackling surprised even her as she stomped over and pulled her darling free from the men’s hands. This deep in the throes of the Juice coursing through her body, she could no longer put off her need to ask the nerd about his Perfect Girlfriend, and she was willing to go to whatever lengths were necessary for the chance to do so.

“Leave him alone! He was just trying to go to the restroom!” She firmly planted herself between Norm and the men, stuck her hands out, and turned her attention back to her crush. “You go ahead, and I’ll stand right here and make sure these assholes leave you alone.”

As his thin body slid past her toward the facilities, Elizabeth couldn’t help but quietly ask him in passing, “Hey, um, also, how else do you want me to be?” as the Juice forced her to try to squeeze out any inkling of the nerd’s preferences, impatient to use that information to completely remake Elizabeth’s existence.

She had intended the question to refer to her body, her mind, romance, sexual objectification, anything that could take her closer to being Norm’s Perfect Girlfriend, but her meaning was lost in the confusion of the scene and the scattered mental state of the socially overwhelmed nerd, who instead interpreted her question to mean, “What else do you want me to do?”

He responded, confused, “Uh, more of that, I guess,” before disappearing into the bathroom to spend as much time as she could buy him away from the crowd.

More of that? Elizabeth wasn’t sure what he meant exactly, but even so an irresistible need to be more of that began to grow inside her as her suggestible mind latched onto the idea and began exploring the possibilities.

More of what? What was she like now? Well, she was protecting Norm from these assholes. She was keeping him safe. Was that what he wanted more of?

More of that.

She couldn’t wait any longer - she had to change. More protective of him, then. More able to protect him. Elizabeth didn’t notice her body beginning to grow as she puzzled through these thoughts, slowly becoming larger, stronger, bit by bit. Her weak, middle-aged female body slowly began to harden as muscle fibers thickened and interlaced after decades of under-use and soft living.

It briefly occurred to Elizabeth just how good she felt, how powerful, though that strength now felt completely natural to her, even as the sensation continued to intensify within her body.

More of that.

The muscles of her arms and legs now began showing visible hypertrophy, toning at first before beginning to bulge, larger and larger. Elizabeth experienced a brief sensation of vertigo as her height began to grow first by millimeters, then by centimeters.

She was lucky her favorite dress was stretchy, but it could still only take so much. The skirt slowly rode up her thickening thighs as she grew taller, threatening to expose her most expensive pair of lacy panties as they stretched and ultimately snapped under the pressure, falling to the marble floor, forgotten. Her bulging glutes and quads eventually created enough friction with the thin material to forcibly hold the skirt in place, but Elizabeth was still growing, and soon the strain between her broadening upper and lower bodies split the garment in half.

She stood there helplessly as her expensive dress shredded around her, starting with a long diagonal tear that turned the lower half into a sort of skin-tight pencil miniskirt with the massive muscles of her thighs showing through a series of small stress-rips down the sides, while the upper half became effectively a bra-top, fully exposing the toned abs of her rock-solid midriff. The dress was already sleeveless, and so it nicely showed off Elizabeth’s biceps and delts as they bulged along her thickening arms.

More of that.

Her newfound strength needed the bloom of youth, not the creeping decrepitude of middle age, and suddenly Elizabeth’s skin was clearer as her body abruptly lost fifteen years of wear-and-tear, leaving her at a mature twenty-seven, the height of youthful vigor, old enough for her frame to fully support her new musculature, but not so old that the inevitable progression of time had begun taking its toll.

As her youthful passions grew stronger, Elizabeth suddenly developed an unexpected, though completely appropriate given the circumstances, interest in bodybuilding. She needed to know everything she possibly could about terms she’d only ever heard in passing: metabolisms, caloric intake, interval training, min/maxing, etc. She’d need all of that and more to keep her body in tip-top shape so she could continue to protect her beloved Norm.

More of that.

It wasn’t enough. What else did she need more of? How else was she helping Norm?

Well, she was having to make a scene to protect him. As charming as she now found these traits of his, she still recognized that he was clearly bad at handling any sort of conflict, or confronting uncomfortable social situations. So, he’d need his Girlfriend to be more than capable of doing all of this for him.

Immediately Elizabeth felt the aggression growing inside her as she became more willing to violate social norms, almost eager to use her new muscles to resolve conflict. Despite having lived a life fully centered around being hyper-sensitive to what other people thought about her, Elizabeth suddenly found that she no longer cared. She no longer could care. Except, of course, when it came to her beloved Norm, who was still hiding cutely in the restroom as his off-hand comment rewrote Elizabeth’s body and mind.

Elizabeth noticed that she was no longer worried about what condition her clothes were in, and almost welcomed the stares from the few party-goers who could see her around the corner by the restrooms.

She ran a hand through her hair, unaware that it had shortened from her former long, boring brown locks into a stylish blue pixie cut.

More of that.

So she still wasn’t done yet. In the midst of her new existence as a veritable mountain of muscle, the Juice suddenly forced her to remember that she was still a woman, and that being a Perfect Girlfriend also required a certain amount of sexual femininity.

So, what else did she need more of?

Well, she was pretty busty… Elizabeth remembered Norm staring at her cleavage for one brief second - maybe he meant more of that? More willingness to show off bigger, bouncier breasts? She was suddenly overcome with an urgent need for her body to please Norm sexually as the Juice grasped onto this sliver of sensuality in their interaction, and Elizabeth’s boobs, which had mostly just flattened and spread out as the surface area of her chest and powerful pectoral muscles grew, irrelevant as they were to her initial transformation, suddenly began to swell proudly with their renewed importance, and, racing to catch up and keep pace with her massive new frame, they finally bulged out into two large, round, islands of soft femininity trapped in an ocean of hard, angular sinew.

Elizabeth glanced down at her new chest, appreciating how sexy her large, impossibly perky boobs looked, barely restrained by the tatters of her dress. She was well aware of the weakness and inefficiency of her new, fatty mounds from a strength perspective, but Norm loved them (probably), and so she couldn’t help but love them too.

She took stock of herself now that the Juice finally seemed satisfied. Despite her newfound interest in powerlifting, she wasn’t burdened with the stodgy physique of a bodybuilder; her muscles were large but gave her an aura of speed and athleticism, like those of a professional wrestler, a heavy gunner from an action movie or video game, or a comic book superheroine, complete with the stereotypically larger-than-life breasts that would guarantee plenty of lewd fanart of herself from nerds like Norm.

That last idea turned her on, and the intensity of the heat suddenly flooding through her vigorous body from the increased blood flow caused her to unconsciously flex and clench her massive arms in impatience at her fiery arousal. She couldn’t wait to show her new tits to Norm, and see if he liked them as much as she suspected he would. Either way, she knew it was only a matter of time before her toned body was giving her small man’s cock a workout.

Her chiseled features still flushed with arousal and anticipation, Elizabeth finally raised her gaze above the swollen tits shielding her powerful new pecs and she once again took in the two young businessmen still standing in front of her, mouths open in shock as they stared up at her. She towered over them by more than a foot, but that seemed somehow appropriate to her now.

She smiled cruelly at them. “I think it’s time for you two to leave.” Without a word, they turned and fled back into the crowd, and Elizabeth planted herself in front of the restroom to await Norm’s eventual reemergence.

A few minutes later, he cautiously stuck his head out of the door, and was relieved to see both that the men were gone and that the woman was, for some reason, still there. Even more oddly, it seemed like she was waiting for him, and her face even lit up with delight when she saw him.

“Uh, thanks for, um, sticking around and helping me,” he stammered, though he also noted that something about her seemed different somehow. It felt like he was having to crane his neck back further to look up into her face, and it seemed like she might have changed her clothes (and was her hair always blue?), but fashion and paying attention to people’s appearances had never been his strong suit, so he just shrugged it off. He was just glad to finally be getting some attention from a woman for once, and if anything her boobs were even nicer than he remembered, hanging right at eye level. Don’t look at them, Norm! You know what’ll happen if she catches you!

For her part, Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to grab her little nerd and wrap him up in her powerful arms, but taking care of him was more important. She could tell that he was tapped out for the night.

“Ok, Norm, honey, let’s get you out of here.”

“But the board says that I have to stay, and I don’t want to make them mad…”

“I’ll worry about the board. Come on, let me walk you home. I insist.”

“Oh, ok then.” Norm wasn’t quite sure why this woman suddenly cared so much, but she seemed to know what was best, and she didn’t look like the type who was used to taking “no” for an answer, so he allowed her to engulf his small hand in hers and meekly followed behind.

The other party-goers stared at the odd couple as Elizabeth briskly led the guest of honor toward the door instead of toward the podium, but the sea of tiny, insignificant people inevitably parted before her nonetheless. She welcomed their stares, thrived on their discomfort.

Along the way, she briefly took note of the shallow millionaires around her, their smiles as fake as their tans. And she had been so desperate to be with one of them just a few minutes ago that she had gambled and lost her very existence. She had been just like they were, all for show, and empty inside.

Now she knew better. These men’s physiques were superficially toned, but held no real strength, while her muscles were solid to the core, and their fakeness now disgusted her. Their lives were as ephemeral and interchangeable as their money, while her beloved Norm was guileless, and utterly sincere, and now Elizabeth was forced to share that sincerity.

As she left, she glanced over to the bar and saw the slim brunette from earlier seated beside Elizabeth’s original target, the CEO. So that’s who she ended up with. Now, however, the attractive girl’s hair was lightening into a stereotypical platinum blonde, and her swelling tits were spilling further and further out of her slim dress, matched by her partner’s eyes as they bulged out of his head with delight. The cunning intelligence in the girl’s eyes had been dimmed, replaced with vapid horniness as she stared dreamily into the face of the man she had only incidentally imprinted on, and Elizabeth saw her small hands already hard at work between the man’s legs under the counter as the Juice that she’d willingly taken forced her to become his Perfect Sex Toy..

Instead of jealousy at seeing her like this, having successfully gotten exactly what Elizabeth had always wanted, she was now struck with a feeling of bitter distaste; Elizabeth couldn’t believe that she too had been willing to do that to her body and mind, even if it was to get out of ever having to work a day in her life. The girl had been so intelligent and full of potential, and now she was practically useless, reduced to a trophy bimbo only good for fucking.

What a waste.

Still, there was just enough of the old Elizabeth left to be jealous of the fact that the bimbo likely wouldn’t have to work for the rest of her life. She felt her own desire to live life on easy street intact - the Juice hadn’t felt the need to change that corner of her mind for whatever reason - but she knew that her new programming would force her to do whatever it took to become Norm’s Perfect Girlfriend and bodyguard regardless.

She just hoped that it wouldn’t involve too much effort, though with how hopeless her gorgeous genius was, she wasn’t holding her breath. She smiled longsufferingly as she walked down the sidewalk ahead of her sexy man, in the back of her mind already planning the endless series of exhausting daily workouts that would be required to maintain her physique. It was possible that the Juice had made it so that her muscles would never atrophy, but it was better safe than sorry. She knew the work would be worth it, especially if it meant she’d get to have sex with Norm sometime soon, but that didn’t make her hate it any less.

Chapter 5: The Gold-Digger (Part 2)

After a few minutes of walking, the mismatched couple found themselves standing awkwardly outside Norm’s apartment, with the inexperienced nerd entirely unsure how to proceed from there. Was this a date? A real, live woman had walked him home, so it seemed kinda like a date. But, she had walked in front of him the entire way, and he had soon mostly forgotten that she was there now that her presence had given him the freedom to focus entirely on his thoughts.

“Uh, thanks again for your help tonight.”

“No problem, I enjoyed it.” Elizabeth had enjoyed it. She wondered if he’d invite her in, so that she could make sure that he enjoyed it as well.

Instead, her nerd seemed determined to send her away all of a sudden.

“I know that you said that you’d worry about the board for me,” he began, “but I’m afraid I can’t really afford your services, uh, whatever they are. I don’t have much money - I have more of a researcher role in the company, and the board told me that that wasn’t worth a very high salary. So, I’m, um, sorry for wasting your time, but you probably want to just leave now.”

So that confirmed it - by accidentally imprinting on Norm, Elizabeth had not only condemned herself to a life of hard work, but she wouldn’t even be living the high life in exchange. If anything, it looked like she’d be exerting all of this effort pro bono, and if she stuck it out with Norm, they’d both probably be - Elizabeth grimaced to herself - poor.

Still, as powerful as her body was, she was completely unable to fight the butterflies fluttering behind her powerful abs or the uncharacteristic weakness in her knees whenever she looked at her brilliant but impoverished nerd, making her willing to do anything to stay close to him.

“Don’t worry about it for now - we’ll figure something out. Right now you can pay me for my services tonight by finding me something to eat.” As it turned out, Elizabeth’s powerful new body required a proportionally massive amount of food, and she found that she was absolutely ravenous.

“Oh, uh, I don’t really have anything in the apartment, but I can order Chinese or something if you want.”

Elizabeth cringed at the thought of the nutritional value, or lack thereof, in takeout, but if that’s what Norm wanted, then she’d just have to put up with it. At least it would have plenty of carbs to fuel her next workout. “That sounds great.”

“Oh, um, good!” This was a date! Maybe. “Do you, uh, do you want to come inside, Ms. … uh, I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”

She thought about how to answer. “Elizabeth” no longer seemed to fit her for some reason. She needed something… stronger.

“Just call me Zaza. And I’d love to come inside and have dinner with you.” She smiled at her scrawny man’s clear pleasure at her response, knowing just how much more pleasure was in his near future, and ducked through the doorway to follow him into his apartment.

Inside the cheap flat was a mess of equipment and Chinese takeout boxes. Clearly Norm didn’t have people over often, but even with Zaza here, he seemed oblivious to the mess. Zaza found herself similarly ambivalent - if this is how her man liked his home, who was she to judge him for it?

She cleared a space on the couch to sit while Norm ordered the food, the springs creaking with futile effort as her muscular physique sank all the way down to the base. Norm soon returned from his bedroom, having also changed out of his ill-fitting suit into a comfortable anime t-shirt and pair of loose sweatpants. Zasa didn’t have a change of clothes, and there was no way she would be able to fit into any of Norm’s clothes, so she was left in the tatters of her dress. It didn’t seem like Norm noticed or cared, and so neither did she.

Zaza tried to make conversation while they waited, but Norm didn’t seem overly interested in small talk. Once she asked him about what he did, however, the quiet, awkward nerd seemed to come alive, and when the food arrived a half hour later, he was still going strong about the intricacies of silicon etching processes.

At first, Zaza just let him talk, vicariously enjoying his passion as she shoveled much-needed calories into her mouth, but then it occurred to her that the Perfect Girlfriend of someone as hyper-fixated on their work as Norm should also be not only conversant in those topics, but just as interested in them as her man. The Juice seemed to agree, and as Zaza continued to listen, she found his ideas growing increasingly understandable, as well as increasingly fascinating, adding yet another challenge to the busty giantess’ growing list of Juice-mandated self-improvement commitments.

For his part, Norm had never felt more comfortable or safe with another person in his life, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was how Zaza was showing genuine interest in his work, or how she calmly accepted everything about him without judgment. She definitely seemed more genuine than the suits Norm interacted with on a daily basis.

Whatever it was, even though Norm was usually a loner, he was quickly finding himself becoming attached to this mysterious new woman, and not just because of his natural male reaction to her body, made all the stronger by her tattered dress leaving so much of her naked skin visible to his eyes. Still, he had seen all too often the devastating results of confessing his sexual attraction to women in the past, and so he kept his growing interest in her and desire for her body a secret, only allowing himself to appreciate the sight of her bare midriff and massive tits when Zaza was looking down at her food.

Still, with all of this talk about his interests, it wasn’t long before Norm had talked himself into an idea, and he quickly excused himself from the table for a few minutes to go write it down.

Fifteen minutes later Zaza knew he wasn’t coming back, and so she finished Norm’s mostly untouched plate before pushing her chair back from the table. No wonder her man stayed so scrawny - it was a good thing he was so yummy just the way he was!

Sure enough, she found him typing away at the computer in his office, having completely forgotten that Zaza existed as he immersed himself in his work with single-minded purpose. Zaza watched him fondly for a few minutes, proud of how brilliant her man was and curious to understand the workings of his brilliant mind, but soon her lithe body began to grow antsy from the inactivity.

She retreated back into the living room and cleared a space on the floor, suddenly filled with a compulsion to work out, to drive her muscles through burning pain to the point of failure to maintain her Amazonian physique in spite of her old self’s aversion to physical activity.

Two hours later her limbs were full of the satisfying soreness that came from a good, honest workout, and Zaza had finally regained enough control over her actions to leave the living room, now strewn with various makeshift weights Zaza had no memory of improvising from what she had available in the messy apartment: a duffel bag full of scrap metal, a five-gallon bucket of water from the tap, the entire sofa she had been sitting on earlier in the evening.

She headed back into his office, where she found Norm still typing away, eyes bloodshot and squinting from the contrast between the low light in the room and the bright screens of his workstation, and Zaza felt her newly accepted responsibility for her nerd’s well-being begin pounding in her head.

It was time for Norm to go to sleep, whether he wanted to or not.

Gently, despite his protestations, Zaza lifted her scrawny partner from his office chair and cradled him against her chest, telling him it was time for bed.

Norm found his thin body suddenly squeezed into the Amazon’s massive, perky breasts, and even though he tried to resist, the feel of those soft, heavy tits against his torso activated the sex-starved nerd’s instincts beyond his physical control, and as she carried him to the bedroom Zaza felt something small and stiff start poking into the soft flesh of her left boob as his cock hardened against her.

Oh good. His glance at her chest back at the party hadn’t been a fluke - he did like her tits. Zaza could feel her breasts growing even larger and heavier around his small body at that realization, almost burying him in her massive titflesh, and her craving for his cock deepened even further so that she wouldn’t be able to resist her desire to fully relieve his needs. Not that she’d ever want to resist.

She finally reached his messy bedroom and sat down on the edge of his bed, Norm still cradled in her powerful arms, clearly embarrassed about the erection even as it further hardened against her and began to throb. Zaza merely shushed him as she lowered his tiny physique onto her lap and pulled down his sweatpants with her left hand, eyes hungry with desire as the nerd’s slightly below average cock finally bounced out into view.

She slid her arm back under his legs and lifted him once again, and then flexed her powerful biceps to curl him up toward her face so that another of the few remaining parts of her body that wasn’t rock-hard, her silky lips, could luxuriously wrap themselves around the head of his cock. She tightened her biceps further, causing his sensitive shaft to jerk as it slowly slid deeper into her slick orifice before it finally bottomed out gently brushing the back of Zaza’s throat. She held him there for a second, stroking and massaging him with her surprisingly prehensile tongue, before finally relaxing her powerful arms and letting his dick slide back out the way it had come.

Once her forearms were back to horizontal Zaza began to curl her small lover again, careful to keep her back straight to maintain good form through her slow reps, sliding Norm’s cock fully into her soft mouth at the apex of each curl as she worked her straining arm muscles again and again.

Norm was moaning senselessly in Zaza’s hands as she forced his cock to fuck her face, and she was relieved to see that her lover’s ever-busy mind was finally being forced to take a much-needed break. As it turned out, all he had needed was the overwhelming pleasure of being sucked off by a busty Amazon as she tossed his body around like a dildo-studded barbell.

Norm’s physique made it perfect for this sort of low-weight, high reps training session, but he was still heavy and awkwardly shaped enough that even Zaza’s arms soon began to burn, especially so soon after the exertions of her recent workout. Still, she could see how much he needed this, and she herself was enjoying it far too much to stop, so she had no choice but to stick it out and continue her reps as sweat dripped down her face and glistened on the coiled steel of her arms.

Finally she felt his cock stiffening with exciting finality in her mouth, and so Zaza curled his body one final time, ending her brutal workout with a final isometric hold to squeeze every last bit of gains from her session as her new boytoy began spurting into her mouth.

Zaza moaned her own pleasure around a growing mouthful of Norm’s cum, loving the sensation of his small, frail body jerking with ecstasy as she cradled him in her powerful arms.

He immediately fell asleep when he was done, right there in the safety and comfort of her embrace, having finally emptied himself of years of built-up stress and unrequited sexual tension.

Zaza tucked him in, noticing how hungry she was again as she swallowed his tasty, surprisingly large load. Everyone thought cum was protein for some reason, and while there was a small amount, Zaza could tell from the taste that it was actually mostly sugar, probably fructose. Still, she needed as many carbs as she could get to fuel her endless workouts, and she wasn’t sure how much edible food remained in the apartment, so every little bit helped.

She made her way to the living room and got to work trying to make her overly large body comfortable on the far-too-small couch, not feeling ready yet to share Norm’s bed. Even so, the exhaustion of the excitement of the day and the unexpectedly hard work of her intense workouts caused her to fall asleep immediately.

Norm woke up the next morning to the sound of deep feminine grunting.

He came out of the bedroom to find Zaza doing inclined pushups on the arms of his couch and chair, allowing her large tits to swing freely between the pieces of furniture so that each rep could go deeper. He enjoyed the view for a few seconds, watching Zaza’s stiff nipples brushing against the floor with each repetition. She was still wearing the remains of her shredded dress from the night before.

Finally, he spoke up. “I’m surprised that you’re still here after I said that I couldn’t pay you.”

She responded simply without turning around, “I like you, and you need me.”

That seemed true enough. She had really helped him out last night, and he knew that she was able to do things that he couldn’t do for himself. Plus, he couldn’t get over how increasingly natural and nice it felt to have Zaza around. She made him feel comfortable even as the sight of her superhuman feminine proportions made him, well, aroused.

Zaza noticed his pants tenting as he stared at her tits and smiled hungrily. She hadn’t been able to find anything for breakfast, and her new body needed the fuel, especially after her morning workout. She spun around on her knees and began to make her way over to him, pulling up the remnants of her top on the way and appreciating his eyes widening with desire as her bouncy globes fell nakedly into view. She loved how much her large body turned her little man on.

Zaza slid between his legs and pulled his pants down yet again. His sexy cock was still stiffening, so she slid it into her mouth and bobbed up and down on it a few times to get it fully hard and lubed up, before pulling his cock out and wrapping her tits around it.

Not wanting to waste an opportunity to get some quality work in, Zaza spread her bent legs around Norm’s as he stood in front of her and tightened her quads and glutes to keep her upper body upright. She had to lean back slightly to maintain the optimal angle to keep her tits wrapped around the erect penis angled upward from Norm’s torso, and so Zaza was also forced to keep her abs and hip flexors engaged as she massaged his slick cock between her melons. After just a few minutes, the weight of Zaza’s massive upper body had another satisfying burn going all through her core.

As she did her good work, Norm’s eyes again rolled back in his head from the sensation, letting the massive, gorgeous, muscly woman who had appeared out of nowhere continue to obsessively work him toward orgasm while he just let it all happen. The scrawny nerd’s ever-working mind dreamily noted the difference between the softness of her boobs around his cock and the hardness of the rest of her body whenever it brushed up against him in her exertions. He loved the contrast, however, and the hardness of her body made him feel comfortable and safe enough to fully surrender himself to the sensations his immense-yet-tender lover was generating in his straining cock.

All too soon Zaza could feel him ready to pop, so she quickly slipped him out from between her tits and slid him into her mouth, working his shaft with a broad, muscled hand that dwarfed his cock by comparison, and seconds later she was rewarded with another carby snack that she could burn for more muscle in her next workout.

As her nerd recovered from his orgasmic release, however, Zaza felt her stomach growling again. Her tasty mouthful of cum had only reminded her body of just how many calories she required now.

She also took the opportunity provided by his recovery to appreciate the increasingly threadbare strips of clothing covering her broad swaths of skin as she put her tiny makeshift bra back on. Even if she couldn’t care about what others thought about her appearance, she’d still need new clothes as well, if only for her own comfort.

Once Norm’s eyes were properly focusing again, Zaza told him he was taking her shopping, and the still-dazed nerd could only agree with his powerful new lover’s assertion.

Zaza’s first stop was the supermarket, where she used Norm’s credit card to stock his fridge with leafy greens, beans, rice, and the largest, cheapest cuts of meat she could find.

After a quick, protein-rich lunch that finally relieved Zaza’s new body’s need for decent nutrition, she took her nerd to the mall, where he bought her all of the supplements she’d need at the health food store before they turned their attention to clothing.

It occurred to Zaza that she had inadvertently succeeded in getting a man to pay for everything she needed, though the utilitarian nature of all of her purchases wasn’t lost on her, and it was all so that she could work harder to better serve Norm’s needs.

Speaking of Norm, by this point Zaza’s introverted partner was starting to get overwhelmed from being out in public for so long as he followed her around, so once they got inside the sporting goods store Zaza grabbed a handful of the largest sports bras and workout tights she could find off the racks before cloistering Norm and herself inside the handicap fitting room so that there’d be space enough for the two of them.

There she recharged Norm’s batteries, first by treating him to a striptease wherein she effortlessly ripped off the remaining rags of her dress, leaving her demigoddess-esque physique posed in all of its fully naked glory before him for the first time. Zaza felt herself becoming more and more turned on as her nerd’s eyes took their time roaming hungrily over the entirety of her broad form, his gaze tracing its way up her thickly-muscled arms, resting for an extended period on her toned torso and massive, gravity-defying tits, and taking in her solid, powerful thighs before finally settling with growing interest on the fascinating folds glistening with physical arousal between her legs.

It was clear that Norm was utterly captivated by her body; Zaza couldn’t help but be grateful that the Juice had done its work so well.

It was also clear that Norm had never seen a vagina in person before, but, as expected, Zaza only found his inexperience all the more charming. Yes, that’s for you too, eventually, the titillating titan giggled to herself, before sinking to her knees once more, unzipping her needy man’s tented pants, and pulling his erect penis out into the open air in the middle of their spacious fitting room.

She quickly ran a hand between her naked legs before gently wrapping her fingers around his comparatively small cock, coating it with her slick, viscous juices as she began to slide her hand up and down his shaft.

Norm just leaned back against the wall, again marveling at his luck as his busy mind once again blanked with enjoyment. All of a sudden his eyes shot open wide with surprise, however - Zaza had begun using the fingertips of her other hand to play with his ballsack, and the sensations surging through his cock suddenly got even more intense. It was more than he could take; he was already going to cum again.

Oddly, Norm hadn’t felt embarrassed at cumming so soon under Zaza’s ministrations. He embraced the pleasurable urge washing over him, somehow knowing that Zaza didn’t care about how long he lasted. She was genuinely interested in his pleasure, and so he naturally allowed himself to feel it, even if it meant that he popped off faster than a champagne bottle in a centrifuge.

Zaza placed the very tip of his cock between her lips as she continued to work his shaft, and in seconds his member was jerking, dumping yet another load of his creamy workout fuel into her mouth.

While Norm recovered from emptying his balls yet again, Zaza treated him to a fashion show of skintight, figure-hugging sports bras and workout tights, and between each outfit he was again privy to a private viewing of Zaza’s fully-nude, Olympian physique.

She ultimately settled on a half-dozen sets, choosing a pair of dark gray tights with pink highlights and a matching sports bra top to wear out of the store. Her old self felt a small burst of satisfied pleasure as Norm once again paid for everything. Her new self was satisfied that she was more than giving him his money’s worth.

They finally returned to Norm’s apartment and got to work, him on his computer and her scavenging his apartment for objects she could use as makeshift weights for the workout she desperately craved after hours of inactivity.

She considered having her cute little sugar daddy buy her some real weights, before remembering that he apparently didn’t make much money at all, and that her purchases that day had probably already significantly dented her poor man’s funds.

Still, it was hard to feel disheartened at her fate while her heart was busy tumbling in the addicting throes of puppy love, and it didn’t hurt that Norm’s mere presence constantly threatened to soak her new workout tights with arousal, and so Zaza uncomplainingly got back to the laborious process of maintaining her superhuman physique.

For the rest of the evening, the odd couple single-mindedly pursued their individual goals, near each other but in effectively separate worlds, their labor only punctuated by Zaza’s frequent compulsion to cause, and then relieve, sexual tension in her perpetually horny nerd.

Norm was effectively insatiable; he came quickly and frequently, apparently trying his best to make up for years of sexual isolation by getting his rocks off as often as he could.

Though Zaza once again had to force Norm to go to bed that evening, pulling up her sports bra to let her massive breasts drop into view proved persuasive, and Norm allowed himself to be lifted in one of Zaza’s massive arms and carried off to the bedroom, squeezing and sucking on her enormous breast the whole way while Zaza’s other hand stroked his stiff little cock encouragingly.

As the powerful giantess gently lay her small mate on the bed, they both knew that this time was different. Zaza was about to make Norm a man.

She quickly stripped off his pants, and he lay there on his back, cock pointed directly at the ceiling and twitching in anticipation as Zaza peeled off her own leggings, leaving her sex once again exposed and glistening as the Juice’s effects prepared Elizabeth’s large, powerful body to finally receive the dick of the small man she had imprinted on.

Zaza quickly straddled Norm, impatient to consummate their relationship, her broad, hard body towering over his as the other soft parts of her physique, her delicate, sensitive labia and welcoming vagina, finally brushed against Norm’s aching cock.

His eyes opened wide at the contact and Zaza knew she was in danger of going too far too fast, so she quickly leaned forward, burying Norm in her soft, heavy tits to distract him while she lined up his straining cock with her own demanding entrance.

Buried in tits or not, feeling the tip of his cock squeeze through Zaza’s slick folds was more than Norm could take, and he went off like a firehose, his member jerking spastically between Zaza’s labia as his sexual tension erupted into her.

Zaza’s own powerful need had been growing relentlessly for over a day, not having received the frequent release her lover had, and the sensation of her irresistible man’s cock finally busting his nut inside her sent her over the edge as well, and she slammed her pussy down on his cock as it began to clench. She felt her lover’s orgasm continuing unabated, his cock jerking desperately deep within, and a low-pitched moan of carnal satisfaction rumbled its way out of her broad chest as her powerful hands tightened on the headboard, splintering the wood with the force of the coiled muscles clenching in involuntary ecstasy all over her huge body.

It seemed that Norm was already asleep by the time she pulled herself off him, amazed at the apparently endless amount of jizz her new lover could produce as it dripped out of her. She prepared to get up and retreat to the sofa again, but as she silently moved to get off the bed, Norm’s hand locked onto her thick forearm with as much of a steel grip as the small nerd was capable of.

“Stay.”

So she did.

Zaza woke up with her broad body wrapped around Norm’s, the serving spoon to his tiny teaspoon.

Her body was so much wider than his that he was effectively sheltered in a cave of rock-like muscle as she wrapped herself around him, with the exception of his head, which was comfortably cradled in her soft, pillowy tits.

Now that she was awake, Zaza once more embraced her constant sexual pull toward her man’s small, virile body, and it wasn’t long before she was compelled to snake a thickly muscled arm around him and gently rub the tip of a thick forefinger along the underside of Norm’s cock, which soon hardened as Norm’s dreams filled with sexy muscle mommies obsessed with servicing his dick.

Zaza continued her reach-around, gently massaging Norm’s frenulum, driving him closer and closer to realizing his wet dream. As his cock began to stiffen and Norm began to quietly moan in his sleep, Zaza swept him up in her arms and sucked his cock into her wet mouth, causing Norm to reflexively provide her rumbling tummy with spurt after spurt of his sweet caloric reward.

In the meantime, Norm slowly drifted into consciousness from the intensely pleasurable sensation of having his balls drained, and his dreams became reality in the best possible way as he was sucked dry by his own real-life Amazon that put the wettest of his dreams to shame.

They were only allowed a brief period to enjoy each other’s post-coital company, unfortunately, because that day was Monday, which meant that Norm had to go in to work.

After Zaza’s massive breakfast, Norm put on his usual nerdy dress shirt and slacks, and Zaza squeezed her massive bulk into the most formal-looking set of workout tights she had picked up the previous day, a dark gray pair of capri tights and a blue and gray tank top that gave her massive chest a tasteful amount of cleavage. Her legs bulged through the skin-tight material, and her massive delts and arms erupted out the sides of the tank top like sprouting redwoods.

At Zaza’s insistence, Norm led her to the giant, cookie-cutter cube of glass and steel where he worked.

As they entered the lobby, security immediately approached and stopped them at the door. “Who’s she?” The guard gestured up at Zaza, already feeling uncomfortable and slightly emasculated at the way she towered over him.

"His girlfriend.” Norm’s eyes widened in surprise at the assertion, especially because Zaza had never spoken to him about any sort of personal relationship, but he found it oddly comforting that she’d taken the initiative, relieving him of any future pressure to do so himself. Plus, he couldn’t deny that he did like being with her, and not just because she was gorgeous and sexually insatiable.

“Significant others aren’t allowed inside,” was the rote response, but the light tremor in the guard’s voice told Zaza all she needed to know.

“I’m also his chief of security,” Zaza continued forcefully. She stepped forward, flexing the massive arms crossed under her surprisingly tasty tits in the confused security guard’s face. “You don't have a problem with that.” It wasn't a question.

“No ma’am,” the security guard answered anyway, unable to decide whether he should keep his gaze on the massive woman’s plump breasts or on the intimidating pythons supporting them. “Just doing my job, ma’am. Go on through.”

Norm brought her to his office, which was little more than a broom closet, and Zaza stationed herself behind Norm while he got to work, preparing herself for a long day of boredom as she stood guard for her nerd. At least she’d be able to glean a bit more info about Norm’s job and interests as he worked.

In the meantime, word was quickly spreading through the company about Zaza’s arrival, and, remembering the trouble she’d caused at the party a few nights before by abruptly absconding with their star nerd, the company execs called an emergency meeting to make a plan to deal with her. The last thing they needed was some muscle-bound bimbo tramp taking too close a gander at their golden goose.

They hatched a plan to get Norm away from her just long enough to force him to sign a ludicrous amended contract that forbade personal relationships that the board determined were improper, at their sole discretion of course.

So, they provided Zaza with all of the electrolyte-laden sports drinks she could drink, and while Zaza was suspicious at the welcome she was receiving, she couldn’t turn down the opportunity to charge her power-hungry body, and before she knew it, she was telling Norm to stay put while she headed to the restroom for a minute.

Just at that moment, a team of execs came around the corner and whisked Norm away to the top-floor conference room.

When Zaza returned two minutes later to find Norm’s office empty, she immediately realized what must have happened and flew into a rage, taking the stairs four at a time on her way to the top floor, where she figured they would be hiding her beloved nerd.

Upon exiting the stairwell and finding her way to the conference room barred by a locked pair of heavy wooden doors, Zaza coldly snapped the handle off and entered.

She was greeted with the silence that had immediately spread itself through the room at the loud snap of the handle’s separation from the wood of the door, and quickly took in the sight of one half of a long conference table filled with smarmy businessmen, while Norm was left sitting alone on the other end, cowering in fear and discomfort as a gold fountain pen trembled above an as-yet-unsigned document.

“I’m sorry, ah… Miss, but this is a private meeting.”

Zaza’s biceps tightened with her rage, not just at the knowledge that they were trying to take Norm from her, but also at the way they were taking advantage of her darling in general. It wasn’t right, and she was going to do something about it.

She glared at their perfectly-tailored suits, well aware of the superficially muscled physiques many of them were hiding underneath, just another manifestation of the fakeness that permeated their existences. Zaza was the only one in this room who knew what real work was.

Except for her lovely Norm, of course. He did more work before breakfast than everyone here put together, Zaza included. She allowed herself to look fondly over his noodly arms, feeling her body begin to burn once more at just how sexually drawn to him she was. She’d definitely need to have some fun with him after this.

But first, to work. She had to earn her nonexistent paycheck, after all.

Finally she turned her attention back to the execs, returning their looks of smug superiority with one of her own.

“Where Norm goes, I go. You're happy about this for three reasons.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this,” one of the junior officers huffed flippantly.

Zaza silently walked over to Norm and ripped the contract in half without so much as glancing at it, before patting him reassuringly on the arm. She refocused her glare on the CEO.

“Your plans don't work without Norm. You know this. I know this. Now, Norm knows this too. You will give Norm a good contract, or I will leave. If I leave, Norm will leave with me, and will not come back.”

As she stared him down, Zaza briefly wondered where he was keeping the blonde bimbo who had imprinted on him at the fundraiser the other night. There was nothing Zaza could do to save her from a life spent worshiping this asshole’s cock, of course, but at least she could put him in his place for once.

The CEO cackled at her. “I hate to burst your bubble, whoever you are, but Norm here has already signed an indefinite non-compete agreement. If he leaves, he’ll never work in this industry again!”

“Nor will you.”

The CEO began to sputter.

“When the project dies, your investors will learn their bridge loan leads to nowhere. They will revolt. No more money. No more second chances. Bankruptcy. No more office, status, pay for your useless party-boy friends. You will be responsible for driving the company to ruin. Your failure will be notorious. You will be outcast. Radioactive.”

Zaza turned a loving glance on Norm.

“Norm is not like you. Norm is brilliant, diligent, will be productive in any field he chooses. Norm can return to academia and help the whole world. Or, Norm can fly eighteen hours to numerous companies that will gladly violate your non-compete. You are short-sighted. They are not. Norm has options. You do not.”

The man’s face was purple with rage. Zaza stared at him coldly and continued.

“Why do you treat Norm this way? I know why: you are jealous. Norm is smarter. He works harder. He is a better man than you are. You know this too, and your frat-house can’t handle that much emasculation from someone who does not look or act like you. So, you are mean to him. You take advantage of him to feel better about your mediocrity. But, you are only jocks, picking on the nerd. High school bullies larping in expensive business suits.”

“You need Norm. Norm does not need you. You have two choices: give Norm all that he deserves, retroactively, and keep making the money your greedy hearts crave. Or, I leave, Norm leaves, and he makes that money for someone else, while all you have built crumbles around you.

“You get one chance. I do not negotiate. If I do not like the contract, we leave. Now, whose corner office will we take over while we wait for your offer?”

The CEO’s sour expression could have curdled milk, but Zaza just met his impotent stare until he finally submitted, dropped his gaze, and pointed down the table at one of the VPs.

After getting his name, Zaza gently took Norm by the hand and started to lead him to the door.

“Wait, that was only one reason! What were the other two reasons?” the same junior officer suddenly piped up from the back.

Zaza crossed her arms, allowing her two massive biceps to flex to their fullest intimidating shape. “One. Two. We’re done here. You will leave Norm alone, and let him make you lots of money.”

A chorus of satisfying “Yes ma’am”s echoed down the table.

Without another word, Zaza motioned to Norm to leave the room, and she made sure to dutifully follow behind him until she ducked safely out of the boardroom, whereupon she immediately scooped her nerd up in her arms and whisked him off to his new corner office.

She knew he had to be drained after his ordeal, and could probably use a distraction. Zaza, in contrast, could feel her blood boiling from all of the confrontation, and all of that heat was quickly becoming a burning need to feel Norm’s dick inside her again, so Zaza’s Perfect Girlfriend Juice-affected body could think of no better way to recharge her irresistibly attractive nerd than with sex.

Not to mention, oxytocin was an incredibly important hormone for muscle regeneration, and she had woken up this morning feeling fantastic after her orgasm last night. As Zaza stripped off her exhausted Norm’s pants and boxers, she made a mental note to make sure that she got herself off with her lover at least four times a day to keep her levels high. That meant she’d need to get by with a bit less of his tasty cum, but that was only until Norm discovered how much he enjoyed being suffocated between her massive thighs.

Norm may have been too tired from his ordeal to resist his new girlfriend’s efforts, but his dick was very interested in what she was doing, and she soon had him ready to go once again in her arms. It was remarkable how quickly Norm perked back up once his body was flooded with sex hormones, and by the time Zaza had gently laid him on the thickly-carpeted floor and crouched over him, he was erect and ready to go.

After not being able to work out that morning, Zaza figured this was the perfect time for a demanding session of squats, and appreciated the contrast between the hard muscles of her legs tightening in her crouch and the softness of her pussy as her arousal loosened and opened her labia, eager to receive him again. As she approached the nadir of her squat, she shook with need as she felt Norm’s cock begin to slide effortlessly inside her.

Norm lay back and watched his gargantuan lover, noting how much larger she was as her hard physique towered over him like a vaguely woman-shaped boulder, loving the contrasting sensation of slowly sinking into her silky, feminine pussy until Zaza allowed her rock-hard buttocks to gently rest against his thighs, nestling him deep inside.

Once she was sure he’d gotten his fill of the initial sensation of penetration, Zaza tightened the thick cords of her powerful quads, bringing her upper legs parallel with the floor in air chair position and allowing Norm to slide out of her until just the tip was left buried in her hot entrance, before relaxing her legs and slowly welcoming the full length of his dick once again.

Zaza was briefly surprised that Norm was lasting so long. It seemed that the anxiety of the meeting had taken more out of him than she’d thought, but it was clear that he was increasingly enjoying his convalescence, and it wasn’t long before the pleasure got the better of him.

She leaned over him as she had the night before, giving him a faceful of the heavy chest-mounds that he loved so much, which abruptly caused him to go off like a geyser deep inside her once again as she rocked her hips back and forth, coaxing more and more of the stress out of his small body.

Once he was fully spent, Zaza picked up her diminutive lover and redressed him in his khakis before carrying him over to sit herself down on the expensive leather couch of his new office, cradling Norm in her massive arms.

He was looking up at her with wonder and confusion. “Why are you doing all of this for me?”

“I told you. I like you, and you need me. And, you deserve it.”

Norm abruptly reached up and cradled her angular cheek in his hand, before pulling her face down toward his into a clumsy, unpracticed kiss.

“Zaza, I think I, uh, l-l-l-love you…” he stammered to his sexual partner and bodyguard of two days, and the blue-haired giant smiled broadly and kissed him back. “I love you too.”

“Really though, I honestly don’t know how to thank you,” Norm continued once the moment had passed and Zaza had lowered him onto the couch beside her.

“Well,” Zaza considered, “the day I met you, believe it or not, I was desperately looking for a sugar daddy. So, now that you’ll finally be getting what you deserve, would you be interested in footing the bill for my extravagant bodybuilding lifestyle, while I pay you back with all of the mind-blowing sex your puny little body can handle?”

“That sounds nice. Will you… take care of me?”

“I promise.”

As soon as Trina had noticed that the Perfect Girlfriend Juice was missing, she had prepared herself to be shocked the next time she saw her mom, but even so, nothing could have prepared her for Zaza and Norm’s arrival home that evening.

After Trina had come to terms with her mom’s new body, Zaza introduced her much older daughter to a confused but amiable Norm, and then filled Trina in on the events of the past few days.

“See, I told you I’d find a man,” Zaza laughed as she nonchalantly hammer-curled her old exercise bike.

“And I told you that you’d have to work for it!” the bombshell milf retorted. She was glowing herself, fresh off a recent visit from Tyler, and Zaza noticed that her curves had grown even more outlandish since she’d last seen her.

She’s certainly got her work cut out for her keeping a horny young stud like him satisfied, Zaza thought to herself. She expected herself to stay pretty much as she was, since Norm seemed perfectly satisfied with her body as-is. Still, she couldn’t help but be happy to see her daughter so fulfilled, even if her young man’s tastes, and therefore Trina’s physical and mental characteristics, would likely fluctuate on a near-daily basis going forward.

Norm was true to his word, and with his new salary was more than able to keep the bills paid. Zaza still accompanied him to work everyday, though the higher-ups had been cowed enough to allow Norm to do his work in peace.

Even so, Norm frequently found himself socially exhausted from the in-person demands of his job. Whenever that happened, Zaza was happy to literally carry him off into the privacy of his corner office, where she could indulge in her need to recharge her cute little nerd’s batteries and blow his mind in the process.

And for his part, Norm never took Zaza for granted, always looking fondly back on the day that his Amazonian goddess of a girlfriend had appeared from nowhere to make his fantasies reality.

Author's Note: 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, all rights reserved. Enjoy!

 

Extra-Perceptual
by Fidget

 

Amy was sitting at home, lounging comfortably in a bathrobe, reading a trashy romance novel when it happened.

You might think it odd for an up-and-coming aeronautics research scientist to spend her Saturdays reading smut, but there was something about the stories of plain, everyday women having torrid affairs with gorgeous, unattainable men that she couldn't get enough of, possibly because she herself was plain, with mousy brown hair and no curves to speak of. She had tried to get the attention of the popular boys in school, but just didn't have what it took, and had turned to books about unrealistic relationships instead. Her love of reading was what had started her on her ridiculously successful career path, but it was also what had earned her her nickname, "Worm", short for "Bookworm". She absolutely hated her nickname, as it simultaneously pointed out both her underdeveloped body, and the social isolation that had resulted from it.

That fateful Saturday, Amy's feelings of pleasant arousal from the sexual antics in her book were shattered as her entire house shook, accompanied by what sounded like a small explosion from her backyard. Running outside, she saw a small crater, with a still-glowing lump of metal in the center. As she approached it, she noticed a strange buzzing sensation in her head that got stronger the closer she got to the stone.

What the hell was that?!? she suddenly heard, and turned around to see her neighbor, Tom, leaning over the fence between their property.

"I think it's a meteorite!" Amy responded. "It must have just landed in my back yard!" Amy drew as close to the glowing rock as she could, before the heat radiating off it became too strong, and she was forced to retreat over to the fence by Tom.

"Weird!" Tom said, before shaking his head as though he was feeling the same buzzing. I hope this weird headache goes away soon - I think Melissa might be in the mood tonight, and I don't want to miss my chance to get lucky!

"Wait, what did you just say?" Amy asked, sure she must have somehow misheard him. Which itself was odd, since she didn't think she had seen his mouth move.

"I didn't say anything," Tom said, confirming Amy's suspicions that his mouth in fact hadn't been moving, which just left her feeling more confused.

Even so, the thought of Tom having sex had caused Amy to take a few surreptitious glances at his arms and chest before heading back to her house. For an accountant, Tom was pretty attractive, and as Amy glanced back at him while walking inside, she briefly thought, I bet he looks like he just stepped out of a romance novel under those clothes, before closing the door behind her.

Tom gave his neighbor an odd look as she disappeared, as though he'd somehow heard what she had thought, but as he turned back toward his own house, his muscles began to bulge and ripple under his dress shirt. Completely unaware of his new physique, Tom walked inside and proceeded to make powerful love to his incredibly lucky wife like he did every day. As Melissa recovered from her usual string of orgasms, she wondered, as she often did, how on earth she managed to snag a ridiculously hot underwear model with a massive cock, who was also godly at sex.

 

Melissa is such a lucky girl, Amy thought as she walked out her front door to check the mail, still in her bathrobe. She still couldn't believe that she lived next door to a real-life underwear model. It was like fate was tormenting her daily with what she couldn't have.

More importantly though, what was going on with Tom? She was certain that he hadn't been moving his lips, yet she'd still heard him talking about banging his wife, plain as day. Maybe it had something to do with the weird buzzing she had felt in her head, which hadn't decreased in intensity, even though she was now dozens of feet away from the meteorite. Well, she was a researcher, wasn't she? It was time for an experiment.

Reaching into her mailbox to grab her daily junk mail, Amy looked around for a likely test subject. Spotting the crotchety old woman who lived across the street sitting on her porch, Amy called out, "Hi Mrs. Henderson!" and waved. As usual, the old woman seemed to completely ignore her, but then Amy clearly heard, Young people these days, always desperate to draw attention to themselves, even though Amy was sure that Mrs. Henderson's lips hadn't moved.

I have always been pretty desperate for attention, Amy conceded. She recalled her high school days, where after constantly being rejected by her crushes, she had taken to wearing increasingly revealing outfits in an attempt to draw their attention, but that had only drawn more attention to her complete lack of curves, and her acting out had earned her a healthy amount of detention. Even so, Amy couldn't seem to help it, and her habit of wearing revealing clothing had stuck.

Amy looked down at the low-cut, midriff-baring tank top and dangerously short shorts currently hanging off her boyish figure, before continuing to excitedly wave at the old woman across the street, bouncing up and down this time, overwhelmed with youthful exuberance at being the center of her attention, until finally the old woman grew tired of her antics and turned away.

Even so, Amy's excitement was undiminished. It had happened again! It had to be that meteor that had fallen in her backyard - somehow that weird buzzing it had put in her head was allowing her to hear what other people thought!

Still half-convinced that she was crazy, Amy focused her attention on a girl down the street standing beside her squatting dog, and clearly heard the words, Nobody will notice if I don't pick it up this once, as the girl ignored her dog's business and continued walking.

There was no doubt about it - Amy could read minds. This was the discovery of the century! Amy couldn't wait to be the center of the scientific community's attention as she showed off her mind-reading powers in front of hundreds of other researchers, and it was all thanks to that weird glowy rock that had fallen into her backyard.

She suddenly felt a familiar urge to be near other people, partially so that she could test out her newfound mind-reading powers, of course, but mostly so that she could hear what other people thought about her.

She ran inside, grabbed her keys, hopped in her car, and headed to the mall.

 

Along the way, while stopped at a red light, she glanced into the car next to her and noticed a cute guy looking in her direction. She smiled at him, always eager for the attention, and focused on his thoughts. She's kinda cute was all she heard before the light turned green, and he drove off.

I am kind of cute, Amy thought to herself happily, not noticing as her complexion cleared and took on a bit of color, her eyelashes lengthened, and her lips reddened, swelling a bit into a seductive pout. As the man's words echoed in her mind, Amy could remember her face getting all of the attention as she was growing up, as it was by far her best feature. If she had a nickel for every time she overheard someone in high school say, "Worm? Yeah she's cute, but...", well, she'd have a lot of nickels.

 

Once she arrived at the mall, she briefly glanced in her vanity mirror to check the carefully-applied makeup that had appeared on her face minutes before as the words I'm kinda cute continued to buzz around inside her mind, before getting out of the car and heading toward the mall.

Upon opening the doors, she was immediately overwhelmed by the thoughts loudly coming at her from every direction.

...no way it'll fit...

...a watch for his birthday?

...just get a pizza! I don't...

Maybe coming to the mall was a mistake, Amy thought to herself as the cacophony started to give her a headache, but then she noticed that when she focused her attention on one voice in the crowd at a time, the other voices got quieter. Proud of herself for discovering a new aspect of her mind-reading powers, Amy began to make her way through the crowd, excitedly listening in on the thoughts of all of the people she passed.

 

Twenty minutes later, after overhearing to the exact same thoughts in the minds of hundreds of horny men and insecure women, however, Amy began to grow bored. Not a single person had so much as noticed that she was there, and even though she now knew the deepest secrets, desires, and insecurities of dozens of people, she still hadn't heard a single person think anything about her at all.

Her familiar desire to act out began to grow, and Amy began to sway her hips as she walked, as weird and unnatural as it felt with her narrow figure. She remembered similar desperate attempts to get the attention of the popular kids in high school, which had only resulted in her embarrassment, but she had to do something.

After a few minutes of exaggerated swaying, she passed a thin, mousy girl that reminded her a lot of herself. She saw the girl glance over at her as she walked by, and heard her think I wish I had hips that made me sway when I walk like that girl does. Amy grinned at finally getting some of the attention she craved, and, running her hands over her wide, flaring hips, Amy was thankful once again for the natural, effortless sway they gave her walk as she felt them pressing outward into the sides of her tight shorts. She hadn't always liked them - she'd gotten made fun of in high school for her "birthin' hips", as her bullies had often called them, once puberty had hit and caused them to swell into their current, overtly sexual curve. In the end, however, it had all been worth it for all of the attention they got her, she thought, throwing a bit more suggestive swagger into her disproportionately wide hips.

 

A few minutes later she noticed a guy walking toward her, and she felt a small flush of pride as her natural swaying strut immediately drew his attention, as it had so many other guys in the past. It was unfortunate that her only assets were her wide hips and cute face, but even so, she focused in on his thoughts, eager to find out his opinion of her.

Damn that girl is thicc, she heard, and gave an appreciative jiggle of the large ass and thick thighs that perfectly complemented her flaring hips. Amy wasn't trying to overhear another thought, but one came nonetheless, and as I can't wait to see that bubble butt she's got going on back there entered her mind unbidden, she smiled at just how right he was as her ass bounced even more heavily. When he finally passed her, she blushed as she heard him give a low whistle at the sight of her booty and hips continuing to jiggle and shake with each step she took, like they always had.

Amy had always been pear-shaped, with hardly anything up top but plenty going on down below. It was the reason she'd been somewhat popular in high school, as hormonal teenage boys were instinctively lured by the pleasure they knew they could find between her thick, cushiony thighs. And, since she'd loved the attention, and wanted to be popular, she'd gone along with them a bit too far, giving out more than her share of handjobs and blowjobs to quench the desire they felt for her plump pussy. That was where she'd gotten her nickname, "Dumptruck", as much as she hated it, both for her thick ass and for all of the loads the boys had dumped on her face and down her throat.

 

Amy was beginning to feel a bit wiped from walking on high heels all afternoon, even though she loved the attention they drew to her ass and thighs as she strolled through the mall. Plus, the constant buzzing in her head was starting to get a bit tiresome, and she thought she had learned enough about her new powers for one day. As she turned toward the exit though, another stray thought about herself from yet another horny guy behind her suddenly popped into her mind. Man, with an ass like that, she's gotta be packin' some tits too.

Once heard, it couldn't be unheard, and now Amy couldn't seem to ignore those words as they wrote themselves across her consciousness. Instead of continuing toward the exit, she impulsively decided to turn back around to show him that she was indeed "packin' some tits". To be honest, Amy was kinda self-conscious about leaving the house without a bra that day, not sure why she'd thought her large C-cups with their prominent nipples wouldn't need one as her bouncy breasts pressed out tightly against the thin material of her tank top. Oh well, too late now, better just own it, she thought, before swinging her top-heavy torso around for his appreciation.

I was right on the money! Damn she's got some sweet tits. Amy blushed as she looked down at her heavy chest in pride, not noticing that it now jutted out even further above her narrow waist than it had before. She did have some pretty sweet tits, she thought happily, giving him a wink before turning back around and continuing on her way. It briefly occurred to her how odd it was that she somehow seemed to be getting more and more attention after each new thought that she overheard, but that was exactly what she wanted anyway, so she didn't dwell on it.

 

Still gradually making her way toward the exit, Amy was excited to notice a butch girl openly checking her out as she walked by. While her attention was fully on the girl, Amy clearly overheard her thinking, Man, I wish I was on her cheerleading team in high school, which made Amy grin as she thought back to all of the wonderful years she had spent on the squad. Amy had been far too curvy to participate in many of the lifts or acrobatics, but every cheerleading squad needed eye candy, and Amy filled that role perfectly. Her grades had dropped significantly because of all the time she dedicated to practice and hanging out with the squad, but it had totally been worth it in the end with all of the attention and popularity she had gotten as a result, and she was still able to pass most of her classes through a combination of showing off her young, sexy body to her male teachers during class, and by flirting and begging afterward.

 

Thoroughly exhausted by this point, Amy was just trying to make it back to the mall exit without overhearing anything else about herself, but before she could get there, from out of nowhere came, That slut looks like she's out to get some dick. She spun around to see where such a crude comment could have come from, but having no way to tell she instead began considering the veracity of the remark.

I guess that's because I am out to get some dick, she thought smugly as her horniness started to get the better of her. Her exhaustion forgotten, Amy was now on the hunt, and, with her body, she knew it wouldn't be long before she got the dick that she was looking for. It briefly occurred to her how weird it was that everyone's thoughts about her had been so on the nose, but with how much the curvy, oversexed body nature had decided to bless her with stood out in a crowd, she supposed it was no wonder. Her musings couldn't distract her from her craving for cock forever, though, and before Amy knew it, she was once again scanning the food court for the lucky guy that would get to fill her hungry pussy as she made her way to the exit.

It had been this way since high school, with the hormones that had given her her voluptuous body also sending her sex drive through the roof. It wasn't like she could help it though, so she eagerly accepted her role as the cheerleading team's slut, especially because she got her pick of the hottest guys in school to fuck, and was still solidly in the popular crowd since she was entirely too hot not to be. She had even sucked off a few of her more lecherous teachers, when giving them an eyefull of her tits and pussy in class all year hadn't been enough to get her a passing grade. All of that was how she had gotten her nickname, "Cumslut", which she absolutely loved, because it was so accurate.

 

Finally making it to the exit, Amy walked past a sleazy guy by the door blatantly ogling the women as they passed by. I wonder what creeps like him think about, she mused, briefly focusing her attention on him as she walked by.

Just another dumb blond type who thinks she's better than me, she heard, and was momentarily confused. But I'm not- she began, reaching up toward her brunette hair even as it immediately began to lighten toward a bright, audacious platinum. -a real blond! I have to go get my roots done every week! And I'm not that dumb! she thought, even as her mind clouded and her thoughts began to jumble.

Even so, she still knew how much better she was than this creep. "Like, I'm totally out of your league," she shot back as he stared at her, completely bewildered by her unprovoked outburst. Amy was proud of herself though - even with her constant need for dick, she still had some standards, though she did give his crotch one final, sad look before turning and walking off toward her car.

As she jiggled away, however, her mind reading powers forced her to overhear yet another unbidden thought. She acts all high and mighty, but I bet she's actually a submissive little slut that gets off on doing what she's told, she felt him think, and momentarily had the presence of mind to be offended, before the command he shouted after her, "Get back here, bitch!" stopped her in her tracks.

Like, is it that obvious? she wondered, even as she couldn't resist turning around and slowly walking back over toward him, helplessly turned on by doing what she had been told, and enjoying the sight of him openly leering at her massive D-cups as they jiggled and bounced, threatening to spill out of her straining tank top.

"That's right bitch! You want to come home with me, don't you?"

"Yes," Amy heard herself respond meekly, mesmerized by the sleazy guy's confidence as she followed him out to his car.

 

A few minutes later, she found herself inside his cheap apartment being commanded to take her top off. She immediately complied, feeling the fresh rush of arousal that always came with doing what she was told, as he began to painfully grope her large, sensitive tits.

"Time to suck my dick bitch, since it's probably all you're good at!"

"I'm totally good at other stuff too though!" Amy managed to reply, offended by his outburst even as she sank down to her knees in front of him. "I can even read minds!"

What a bunch of horseshit. She can't read minds, she heard him think, and suddenly the buzzing sensation that had been in the back of her mind all day finally started to fade to a blissful silence.

"Ok then, prove it! What am I thinking about now?" he asked, but as she listened in on his incredibly offensive thoughts, that internal voice grew ever quieter, and she couldn't quite catch the last few words as they dwindled away to nothing.

"You were thinking that maybe I'm just, like, a dumb, submissive bimbo slut that's about to suck you off?" she guessed as her hand unconsciously reached out to stroke the dick sticking out of the guy's jeans. She was almost aware of the sensation of her clothes filling out one final time, as her fuzzy thoughts grew cloudier and her need for his cock became even stronger.

"Wrong bitch! I was thinking, 'maybe this dumb, submissive bimbo slut that's about to suck me off is actually a brilliant rocket scientist'", he said sarcastically. "Except that's clearly not true, since, like you said, you are just a dumb, submissive little bimbo slut sucking me off, isn't that right?"

Amy nodded obediently and got to work. Scant seconds later, however, it became apparent that the cocksucking skills she had honed over the years were entirely wasted on this loser as she felt his cock already beginning to stiffen reflexively in her mouth. He sneered down at the curvy, slutty body and big blue eyes looking up at him as her deepthroating sent him over the edge, and he found himself spurting burst after burst of his thick seed into her mouth.

Amy giggled as she wandered out of his apartment minutes later with a belly full of cum, completely satisfied. She was living the dream. It was as though her entire life had somehow been one long, trashy romance novel magically brought to life, and she had loved every second of it.

Back at Amy's house, Tom the underwear model had grabbed the meteorite and brought it inside with him to show to his wife, whose head had started filling with a weird buzzing as soon as the rock had come inside.

As Melissa held the still-warm object in her hand, she glanced up to catch her husband checking out her body. She stuck out her chest a bit in pride, but then somehow heard his voice inside her head, filling her with an odd sense of deja vu:

Man I wish Melissa had gigantic tits.