Roommates' Corruption

Erica, are you feeling funny again!? Because we had sex, and I had lapses in memory, remember?? Are you doing okay?

Oh yeah! That is weird! I'm feeling okay, now. Thanks for reminding me!

Instead of reassuring Beth, Erica's response concerned her. Beth was hesitant leaving Erica in the house while she went to work; but Erica had reassured her that she was going to go to a coffee shop to stay out of the house this morning. Just a few more seconds in the noxious fumes must have put her back in a daze.

Are you at work rn?

Yeah, of course I am! Why? Where do you want me to be? 😉

Erica, wtf??

The next message to come through was a picture. Erica was at work alright...

"Ooooh fuck yeah!" Erica moaned between pounds. She was in the middle of getting railed by Sean in Marissa's office. It was Marissa's lunch hour and Erica snuck Sean into her office for a quickie.

"Erica, shut up, you're going to get us caught."

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry." Erica whimpered from her position bent over Marissa's desk. Sean reached over to grab one of Erica's tits but was stopped by a blouse and bra.

"Erica, why'd you dress like such a prude today?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy; me dressing slutty was weird!"

"I didn't think it was weird. I thought it was hot as fuck." Sean convinced her with another deep thrust into her cunt.

Erica thought between thrusts of pleasure. Was Sean right? But that didn't make sense, because if Sean was right, and it was hot as fuck -- like Erica had secretly suspected this entire time -- then that meant that Beth was wrong. Could Beth be wrong? Erica was interrupted by her phone buzzing on Marissa's desk. Beth had replied to Erica's 'hot as fuck' picture of Sean's dick in her pussy.

Erica, what the fuck is wrong with you!? You need to snap out of it! It's the gas leak, remember?? You don't actually want to fuck Sean!

Erica's eyes fluttered for a minute. Her immense pleasure coming from her coworker's dick suddenly subsided, and the helpful voice that had been so coddling toward her seemed to fade in the distance. It began to seem... foreign, almost. Like it wasn't hers...

"Stop," Erica suddenly announced, "This is weird."

Sean stopped thrusting, but he left his dick embedded in Erica. "What?"

"I said stop, Sean! This isn't me!" Erica pulled her body up, yanking Sean's member out of her pussy. She turned around and gave him an ugly look before pulling her skirt up and walking out of Marissa's office, leaving a confused Sean with his dick hanging out of his trousers standing awkwardly in front of their boss's desk.

Erica sat back down at her desk and furrowed her brow. She heard Sean a minute later walk out of Marissa's office and sheepishly walk past her without making eye contact. Erica stared at the text message from her roommate. The gas leak! It was turning her into a fucking slut. Was that even possible? Erica typed in her computer "symptoms of gas leak." Erica looked down the list and didn't see any symptoms that matched hers. Except for the headache she had on Monday. But her headache turned into a pleasant buzzing. And the pleasant buzzing into a pleasant voice... Erica refined her search: "gas leak aphrodisiac." It turned up nothing. What if it's not a gas leak that doing this to me? Erica thought to herself. It seemed so clear now, she was thinking straight. There must be something else that was causing her to be so sexually oriented.

Just as she was entertaining the thought, Marissa came back from lunch.

"Hey Marissa, I am really not feeling good. I really think it could be the gas leak, or whatever is happening in our house. Can I go home early today?"

Marissa looked at her skeptically. "Have you gotten anything done today?"

"Well, I watched a good chunk of the videos you wanted me to. I also caught up on some faxes and sorted through your meetings to make sure there weren't any double bookings for next month."

Marissa thought for a minute before answering. "Watch one more video, then you can go home. I don't want you falling too far behind. These are supposed to roll out in a few weeks company-wide, and I really want to make sure they're not bullshit."

"Okay, Marissa. I can do that. Thank you so much."

Erica turned back to her computer. It was in sleep mode after being in Marissa's office for so long. Erica felt really ashamed of what she had just done. She was a total skank, but she never let that leak into the workplace. Obviously, her fucking Sean on her boss' desk while she was at lunch wasn't really 'her,' but she felt bad about it, nonetheless.

Erica opened up the business trainer program on her desktop. She was on video six already -- about two per day. The program opened itself up to the loading menu. There was a strange, hypnotic almost, animation that ran next to all the menu options. Erica had sometimes caught herself staring at it for several minutes before even opening up the video she wanted to play. But not this time; she wanted to get the video done so that she could go home and figure out what the hell was going on with the suspected leak. Even though something in her mind seemed to tell her that there wasn't a leak at all, and that her behavior had been the result of something else entirely, there was something whispering to her, "Of course there's a gas leak."

Erica started up video number six and her screen went black. A sudden flash of white burned an image into her retina. As the screen went black again Erica could see the image, clear as day; it was two women, one kneeled in front of the other. The kneeling woman was nearly naked, except for a corset across her torso and knee-high socks. The corset covered just her midriff, exposing her pelvis and pussy, and cupping her large naked tits, holding them upright, as if on display. She also wore a collar, which was attached to a leash. Erica's mind followed the leash up to its end; it was being held, almost professionally it seemed, by the standing woman, who was wearing high heeled shoes, stockings, a tight pencil skirt, and a tightly fitted blouse. In the hand not holding the leash she held a paddle. Erica's mind danced at imagining the things the paddle could be used for.

Before Erica was able to really interpret the image, or even begin to think about what the hell it was doing in a professional business video, the regular video started up. Erica began to wonder if she had even actually seen the image, or if she had merely imagined it. She was preoccupied with trying to recall the details of the image, she had almost forgotten to pay attention to the video. But it didn't matter, something seemed to tell her; the video doesn't need to be fully paid attention to. The information soaked into her automatically. Which was a strange way for a video to work, but it was definitely true, Erica was assured.

Now consider the image you saw, something seemed to tell Erica. It was coming from her mind...

What image? She seemed to be able to talk back to the voice.

The image of the beautiful submissive girl and her Mistress. The voice said as a matter of obviousness.

Oh yeah, that one. Erica recalled. The details of the image came back to her instantly.

Don't you like that image? The voice asked.

Well, not really. I'm not a lesbian. Erica objected.

Don't you like that image? At the word 'like' Erica's eyes fluttered. The image came back in its full clarity on her computer screen. And yet, it wasn't actually on the screen at all. The video was reviewing one of the acronyms from a previous video: LES-B-N.

Okay, maybe I like it a little.

Don't you like that image? Erica's eyes fluttered again. Suddenly she was the one on her knees -- she could feel the knee-high socks, the tight corset, her bare tits with the cold air on them. She followed her leash up to the person holding it; the professional woman, looking down at Erica with an unsatiated hunger, almost reminded Erica of Marissa.

That's hot as fuck. Erica concluded. Several more images flashed into Erica's mind; all of them involved tits, pussies, women's midriffs, thighs, and hips. Erica could almost feel another woman's lips pressed against hers, her tongue finding its way into Erica's gaping mouth. It was all hot as fuck.

Erica's mind flashed back to the initial image. She was back kneeling in front of her Mistress.

What else do you like about this image?

After the voice and image nearly bullied her into becoming a lesbian, she could barely think. Suddenly though, without warning, she was acutely aware of her hands behind her back. They were locked together with what felt like handcuffs. Not only that, but her elbows were bound by rope, forcibly pulling her shoulders back; Erica's chest was forced into a position of presentation -- her tits pushed as far out as they could be. Erica also felt the collar; initially only an extension of the leash, she now felt it tight around her neck, nearly beginning to restrict her airflow. Erica tried to move her legs but realized that those too were bound together by rope -- once at the ankles, and another at the thighs. Erica went to look down at the ropes binding her but drooled onto her tits that were obstructing her view. The drool had come from a ball gag that was now anchored tight into her mouth. Erica observed her place in a spot of complete humiliation. Her other senses, the senses that she had in some distant world that she had only a faint connection to, showed her a computer screen. There was another acronym for her to accept: SLAVE.

Erica looked up at her Mistress, drool running down her chin. The collar was so tight she was nearly in tears. Please let me go.

You don't want to go. Doesn't this feel good?

Erica considered the voice -- which was beginning to sound a lot like her voice. She felt her tits, exposed to the air, considered her various bondage points -- the handcuffs, the rope, but especially the collar. She felt her pussy clench, and something dripped down her leg.

Well obviously, it feels good! Erica admitted.

Now put them together. It seemed like her voice, the foreign voice that had been bossing her around, and the video all said it at the same time, creating an all-too familiar buzzing sensation in her mind. Erica looked up at her Mistress; she had hiked up her skirt to reveal a beautifully tight cunt. Mistress grabbed Erica by the back of the head and pressed her face into her pubis. Erica tried her best to lick her gift around the ball gag as best she could, and eventually felt Mistress dripping down onto her face. Erica eagerly lapped up the prize. What she couldn't get into her mouth slowly made its way down to her tits. Erica was in absolute Heaven.

The video finished almost too abruptly. The screen returned to the main menu. Erica caught herself staring at the hypnotizing animation for a few minutes before she truly found her grounding again. The videos were always so boring that they always left her in a daze. She thought about reporting back to Marissa that they were bullshit.

But I like the videos so much!

Her own inner voice almost startled Erica. It was weird -- like she hadn't actually thought it herself, but now the thought pressed into her as her own: familiar and safe.

The videos give me pleasure.

Even though Erica had never talked like that in her life (had she even used the word pleasure in a serious context before?) it was absolutely true. The videos were amazing; Erica had even started looking forward to them the past few days. If I tell Marissa they're bullshit, there's a good chance she'll stop having me watch them. Erica certainly didn't want to stop watching them. Erica made her resolve to keep Marissa's project afloat, at least until she finished all of the videos herself.

I like them so much! Erica concluded; they give me pleasure! It was almost like the buzzing she had been feeling before, but more lucid and real. More like herself.

Just as Erica was shaking off the remnants of her daze, and she was closing out the program, Marissa came walking out of her office.

"Did you finish that video?" She asked Erica.

"Yes, Mistre... erm, I mean Marissa," Erica fumbled over her words. Answering to a superior in the correct way was sometimes hard; the video told her so.

Marissa eyed Erica suspiciously. "Okay. You can go home early then. Get some rest and keep me updated on the gas leak. If you need a place to stay, I'm sure we can find some corporate resources to hold you and your roommate up in a hotel or something until it's fixed."

"Thank you, Marissa! You're amazing!"

Erica packed her stuff up, including her suit jacket (which she had taken off before having sex with Sean) into her bag. As she moved around grabbing her different notebooks and planners, she became acutely aware of her bra. It seemed almost tighter than usual.

Bras are uncomfortable.

The thought pressed into her like a heavy stone in soft mud. I suppose they generally are... Erica thought, as if bargaining to herself. But I'm not about to take it off at work!

But her bra continued to become more and more uncomfortable. It suffocated her boobs, dug into her back, started to scratch on her ribcage.

Bras are so uncomfortable!

She stopped packing and looked up at the rest of the office. Everyone was busy either on the computer or on the phone. She couldn't help it. She unhooked the latch on her back and slid the straps over her shoulders still under her blouse. That felt better, but she needed it off; especially off of her tits, which were seemingly begging on their own to be let free. She glanced around the office again, which still yielded only blank faces attached to their respective computer monitors.

She pulled her arms into her blouse and slipped the straps over them, loosening the cups. She quickly slid her arms back through her sleeves. She looked down and realized she faced yet another problem -- her blouse was tucked into her pants and buttoned up tight to her neckline, which meant that her loose bra was trapped inside her shirt. Another quick glance around the office. She unbuttoned about four of the buttons of her blouse so she could pull the bra up out of the top of it. Before even attempting, though, the voice reasoned with her once again.

Four isn't going to be enough...

What? Erica interrupted her own thought, Of course, four is enough, I can already see the bra; four buttons down is already so low! But as she reached for the fabric of her bra to tug it out of her shirt, her hand over-shot it and landed on her fifth button, well past her acceptable cleavage point.

Four isn't going to be enough.

As if on autopilot Erica's hand unclasped the fifth button. She was right, in a sense. The fifth button made it seamless to pull the bra out of her shirt. As Erica yanked the bra out of her blouse, her tits followed, bouncing perfectly out into the open, held up as if for display by the tension of the sixth button at her midriff. Erica couldn't help but ogle at her own tits for a moment, before quickly realizing the vulnerable position she had put herself in. She pulled her blouse back over her tits and quickly scanned the office to see if anyone noticed. To her relief, everyone remained sternly focused on their computer screens.

Erica stuffed her bra into her purse and motioned to button her shirt back up, but her hand froze on the way. She knew that to keep decent she had to button up her shirt. It was normal to button her shirt back up, especially now that her pierced nipples were nearly visible through the thin fabric. But for some reason she just didn't want to. An immense wave of complete apathy washed over her. She was so apathetic about her buttons being undone that she couldn't even bring herself to put in the minimal effort to thread them through the holes. Her apathy was quickly replaced by a different feeling when she looked down at her own cleavage, now thoroughly exposed for the world to see.

Erica suddenly felt incredibly horny. She couldn't help but to clench her pussy. She tried to suppress the urge to sate her primal desire but as she remembered that she could go home her whole body seemed to scream at her; she needed to get home now. Erica grabbed her bag and began walking toward the door. Walking only made it worse -- without a bra her tits bounced up and down, causing her nipples to repeatedly brush against the fabric of her blouse; her eyes fluttered in pleasure at each brief contact and her nipples, which were already raised by their piercings, began to grow even harder. She quickly walked past all her coworkers' desks, but as she approached Sean she tensed. Sean looked up from his desk and said in a voice quiet enough for only Erica to hear, "Now that's a proper slut."

Erica ignored him as she bolted to the elevator; she reached it and mashed the button. Her pussy ached for stimulation. The elevator car was already on the correct floor and opened almost immediately for its only passenger. As Erica stepped into the small room, she remembered the last encounter with Sean and an elevator and quickly pushed the button to the lobby before doing anything else. This made her recall the events of the last few days, especially the parts with Sean. She thought about masturbating in the elevator, sleeping with Sean last night, getting fucked by him this afternoon... Which then made her think of Beth texting her... The gas leak! The thought hit Erica like a ton of bricks. She was suddenly angry; she realized she had been tricked. This feeling of horny wasn't even her -- it was the effects of the damn leak.

Erica began to feel sober minded again, like she had before watching the video for Marissa. But as her sobriety crept up on her, and her horniness waned, another thought sank itself deep into the recesses of her mind.

But I like being horny.

She let that thought press deeper and deeper into her mind as the elevator glided down the floors. It resonated in her subconscious, echoed off her sulci, and rang into her neurons. It deepened so easily simply because it was so true. Who didn't like to be horny? And Erica, of all people, certainly liked to be horny. It had felt so good throughout her life -- that was why she had so much sex, even before the gas leak. The gas leak, Erica had started to realize, had only put her in a heightened state that she already enjoyed.

I like being horny.

She echoed again, seemingly trying to convince any last shred of a cell that would dare disagree with her. And if being horny meant that she made crazy decisions -- like sleep with Sean, or acquire a taste for tits and pussy -- then so what? She liked being in that state. And the more she made crazy decisions, the hornier it made her, which was only more pleasurable in the long run.

I love being horny.

Something seemed different. She was sober minded, like she was when Beth texted her at work. But her own mind convinced her that she didn't want to be any more. The elevator dinged on the ground floor, and she somberly walked to her car. The parking lot was devoid of human life since it was still the middle of the workday, and the lunch hour had come and gone. Erica walked to her car and attempted to fight the sobriety that had slammed her in the elevator. It was one of the easiest battles she had ever fought with her mind; the second she gave it permission, the horniness flooded her mind, soaking into every crevice it could find, touching alcoves of her subconscious she didn't even know existed. Erica gasped in pleasure and fell onto her knees.