The Roommate Test Ch. 01

It's strange how one event can be a trigger for a whole world being turned upside down. Mine was when I got a letter from my landlord saying my rental agreement was nearly up. The letter tried to be polite, but it all boiled down to that if I wanted to extend things I would have to pay significantly more per month. I wasn't sure why the price was being hiked as I felt like I was the perfect renter, in that I always paid my rent on time, had no complaints from my neighbors, and rarely if ever took problems to the leasing office.

It was frustrating because no recent renovations had been done to the complex nor had any been announced. As near as I could tell this was just the company that owned the complex trying to squeeze out what money they could from their renters. When I complained about this to one of my work friends, Melissa, she was as shocked as I was.

Melissa suspected that the company that owned the complex was trying to take advantage of me because in their eyes I was, "a young and dumb girl" as she was renting a two-bedroom for about the price I was paying currently for a one-bedroom. As we talked, she offered to have me come in as share her apartment and we could split the rent. The second bedroom had previously been lived in by her ex-roommate who had moved out a couple of months back. She had been planning using it as some sort of creative space, but she had actually found she missed having someone to share the space with.

I had to give this some serious thought, as the main reason I had my one-bedroom was that I was a bit of a nerd and hated when others belittled my interests. It was so strange, I knew looking in the mirror that I was reasonably cute, but people always acted so much different when I let slip that I did things like play video games or watch anime.

There were a few types of reactions I got from people. You had the guys that could not accept that I was a nerd, and were constantly trying to test to see if I was a "real nerd". Also, there were the girls that when they learned I engaged in non-traditional activities for girls, would look down their noses and hardly give me the time of day. Or just people, in general, that would act like my interests were for kids and not adults.

That though wasn't Melissa and perhaps why we got along so well. While she might look athletic, I learned fairly early on after we started working together that she was a closet nerd too. I even remember when I learned she was a nerd. She had mispronounced a word, and one of our coworkers did one of those eye rolls and "Um actually, it's said..." things that everyone just LOVES.

Without even missing a beat, Melissa responded, "I've heard it both ways." something I personally found amusing, but our shared coworker just huffed at and walked off. Later I asked Melissa if she ever watched a TV show called Psych, and sure enough, it was one of her favorite shows. Since then we have enjoyed being nerds around each other and going out to do things together after work.

So after some thought and discussion we agreed, we would have a sleepover for a whole weekend, from the end of business Friday to a carpool to work on Monday. If things went well, I would move in as her roommate, and if for some reason they didn't she would help me hunt for a cheaper place so I could continue to live on my own.

When the weekend arrived, I made my way to her apartment with a suitcase with essentials for the weekend. Things like changes of clothes, toothbrush, and things of that nature. I must admit I was rather nervous and was sure she was too. She was my best friend, and I didn't want to ruin that. I had heard horror stories about best friends moving in together thinking it would be the best thing in the world, only for them to realize later that their habits drove each other insane.

Upon arriving, she gave me the grand tour, "Over there is the kitchen," and turning without even needing to walk anywhere, "That's the living room that you can see just sort of becomes the dining room after an imaginary line." Stepping around a corner and into what could barely be described as a hallway, she indicated three doors, "That door leads to the bathroom, that door my room, and that final door potentially your room."

Taking a peek into what I hoped would be my future room, I saw it was completely empty but about the same size as my bedroom. So if I did move in, I should be able to arrange my room pretty much the same. Glancing back at the living room and the couch, I asked, "And that's the couch I'll be sleeping on this weekend?"

Following my gaze, she turned her head and responded, "Oh... well, I suppose you could if you wanted. I guess I just sort of figured we would do this like we were kids again having a slumber party. Stay up late having fun and just crash in my bed when we decide to go to sleep."

Leaving my suitcase in the empty bedroom, I turned to her with a grin on my face, "Slumber party? Sounds like it could be fun." I might have been mistaken, but I was fairly sure when I turned to look at her that I had seen the briefest look of disappointment on her face when she wasn't sure how I was going to respond. But it was so quickly replaced with joy that I was on board, that perhaps I had just imagined it.

She then opened the door to her room, for the next part of the tour, "As for my room, as you can see I've got a king-size bed so plenty of room for both of us." Other than the bed taking up a very large portion of the room, it looked like a fairly normal room at first look. A dresser against the wall opposite of the bed with a TV so one could watch while laying down, a door to a closet, and a window with closed curtains.

Honestly, everything about the apartment seemed very normal. The place had been obviously cleaned for company, but there was still a bit of clutter here and there. If roles were reversed, I might have left out a few things as well just so she wouldn't assume I was some insane must have everything put away at all times sort of person. Nothing so far jumped out at me as red flags like weeks of dishes in the sink. Though that wasn't surprising, she had actually told me before she never used the dishwasher, and instead just washed what few dishes she dirtied by hand as she finished using them. All in all, though everything seemed promising so far.

For a bit more we chatted about things like how we might rearrange the living room if I moved in, as I too owned living room type stuff. For instance, I had a larger living room TV so we could swap that out, while her couch was bigger and comfier so I could sell off mine.

We then ordered pizza to be delivered and decided to change into our pajamas before it arrived. Afterall who eats slumber party pizza in anything BUT pajamas. It would also be amusing to see the look on the delivery driver's face when a couple of cute girls in their nightwear answered the door. My pajamas were a matching pair of flannel cotton pants with a button-up top, while hers was an adorable full body onesie with a zip-up front. It even had footies to keep her toes warm and one of those butt flaps at back. Seriously, I loved it and even if this didn't work out I was totally going to get myself something like that.

Of course, by the time the pizza arrived, we were giggling like kids and just being goofy in general. We may have also already opened up some liquor and made ourselves a couple of drinks. It might have been a sleepover in the style that kids might do, but we were still adults and going to enjoy doing things children couldn't do.

With pizza and drinks in hand, we made our way to her room to binge a couple of movies. On her nightstand sat a Rubik's cube, that I started fidgeting with while we watched, as I had never solved one before. She found it to be extremely entertaining to observe me fumble with it, and would every now and then take it and solve it quickly and say, "See like that, here try again." and then promptly shuffle it up and pass it back.

It was during one of those attempts to pass it back to me that I fumbled and it fell off the bed. As I reached down to collect it, I noticed something odd at the foot of the bed and lifted it up to get a better look. It took me a second to realize that what I held in my hand was a wrist strap that was connected to the bed. I had, of course, heard of people with straps like this, but I had never actually known anyone that had them.

Turning to look at her while lifting the strap more so she could see what I had found, I asked with shock in my voice, "You got bed straps?" I may have been a touch tipsy from our drinks, but I tried to make sure I didn't come off as disapproving. Honestly, I was intrigued so when I could see her blushing I quickly added, "Have you used them? What's it like?"

Still flushed she responded, "You weren't supposed to see those, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable as I wasn't sure how you would respond." And I realized as she said this, that perhaps I should have just pretended like I hadn't seen them, as now I had made her uncomfortable. It after-all wasn't any of my business if she liked getting strapped up to her bed.

But now they had my attention, and that last thought got me wondering even more. What if it wasn't that she enjoyed being strapped up but enjoyed doing the strapping. So I tried to reassure her, "I'm not judging, I'm just curious. Nobody I've ever been with was even a little bit kinky."

"Well," she began her confidence clearly returning, "If you are curious, I could strap you down and let you try them out. Experience what it's like."

Now it was my turn to flush, I had hoped to just talk with her about them. It hadn't even occurred to me that we could use them. Though I think this answered that question of if she liked to be strapped down, or do the strapping. I felt like I could see it in her face and hear it in her voice. She was hoping I would agree to try them out. I don't even think I had consciously decided, because I was almost shocked to hear myself saying, "Okay, how do we do this?"

Upon hearing this, she paused the movie and became serious, as she started to clear off of the pizza plates and explained, "Okay so let's do this right. Sometimes, people when they are strapped down, express discomfort or whatever but don't actually want to be let free yet. So I want you to pick a safe word right now. If you use that word at all we instantly stop and find out what went wrong. Just know though, if you use the safe word that's it. Fun is done, and we don't go back to it tonight. But don't be afraid to use it."

It was a lot to take in, but it all made sense. So I nodded and considered what a good safeword would be. Getting up off the bed, I watched briefly as she straightened the sheets, but then glanced at the TV that had our movie still paused. We were watching Lord of the Rings and it had paused right at the scene where Gandolf was about to say "You shall not pass", so I turned back to her with what must have been the biggest grin and asked, "Is wizard a good safe word?"

Smirking and rolling her eyes, she said, "It is, now lie down on the bed." and as I lay down in the center of the bed, she helped guide one of my hands up near the bedpost and wrapped the buckle strap around my wrist and tightened it into place. "And how is that? Wiggle your fingers around, and make sure I've not cut off your blood flow."

Doing as she said, it felt fine though I noticed the length of strap connected to the wrist restraint was rather lengthy and still let me reach almost anywhere, "The cuff is all right, but isn't the strap a bit long? Even if you strap my other wrist down, I'm fairly sure I could reach the other buckle and just undo it."

Melissa tsked at me and tapped my nose, "Patience, a good binding takes time." She then slid over me, straddling me and taking my other wrist to strap that one to the bed in the same way. Then staying on top of me she leaned over and opened the nightstand, and took something out of it. I couldn't see what they were until she moved her hands back to my first wrist and did something to the buckle causing a little click sound.

As she moved her hands away, I could see through the little metal part of the buckle she had put a tiny little lock. Oh, so that's how she was going to stop me from just unbuckling myself. After she did the same to the other I again thought that the straps themselves were overly long. Sure I might not be able to unbuckle myself, but I still felt like I could reach anywhere on the bed. This train of thought though was cut short when she reached down on one side of the bed and pulled on the hidden end of the strap, causing that side to tighten to the bed.

I must have let out a little squeak of surprise as she turned to look at my face, clearly amused, and before leaning to the other side of the bed to secure that one as well. Still straddling me this whole time, she then watched my face while she asked, "Now is that better? Feel like using your safe word yet? Remember you can use it at any time."

I knew I must have been blushing so hard, but I quickly shook my head and responded, "I'm good." Lifting my hips slightly, to jostle her I added, "You've only strapped my hands. Do my legs get strapped too?"

A couple of things happened when I jostled her though, the first was the "slight" lift of my hips was actually more than I intended and it caused her to fall forward on top of me, our bodies touching but for the thin layers of our pajamas. The second was that her face was hovering just in front of mine now. Before she could answer my question about having my legs strapped, I leaned my head upward and pressed my lips against hers.

It was only for the briefest of moments, and I don't know why I did but it felt like the right thing to do. That was the first time I had ever kissed another girl. After breaking the kiss I wondered whose face was redder, hers or mine. Hers I could see, and it was adorable how flustered that kiss made her. I could furthermore see it was not unwelcome as she still had a smile on her face. I'm absolutely sure seeing that made my own face somehow grow even more crimson.

After a moment she sat back up and tsked at me playfully, "Ooh naughty girl. Going to have to punish you for stealing that from me. But first, yes we need to get your legs strapped in." I wasn't sure what she meant by punishing me, but before I could ponder that much she started to slowly slide backward on the bed while holding my pajama bottoms. This meant they were going with her, and I started to squirm.

"Hey! Don't take those from me..." I started to object but she only paused and touched my lips to stop me from talking.

"If you want me to stop, all you need do is say your safeword. Do you want me to stop?" Oh, how evil, and now I better understood the need for the safeword. I realized I didn't want her to stop. I also knew that there was a limit somewhere, just that this wasn't it.

She removed her finger as I shook my head no, and then I said, "I don't want you to stop... yet..." and I wondered if she could hear my worry that I was sure was in my voice. The smile on her face though was so reassuring. For some reason, I trusted her to not go too far. As she finished sliding my pajama bottoms off, she buckled and locked my ankles in places like she did with my wrists. I bit my lip as I realized the only thing covering my pussy was the fact that my pajama top was long, and even then I'm fairly sure she had caught a glimpse of it.

With her now at the foot of the bed and my arms and legs spread to the four corners of the bed, I wiggled knowing that it wouldn't help free me. I was completely at her mercy at only the promise that she would stop if I but used that safeword. As if hearing my thoughts, she started to unbutton my top, opening it downward. Part of my mind repeatedly told me, "Say, wizard, just say it. Soon she'll see my breasts. Not long after she'll see me completely. She'll see how wet I am right now. Oh god, why am I so wet, she's a girl. I'm not a lesbian, that kiss was a joke. Why have I not said it yet?"

And as she opened the buttons past my breasts, she carefully pulled my pajamas aside to free them and expose them to the air and her. Leaning down slowly she first kissed one nipple and then the other, and my thoughts raced, almost as if my mind was arguing with its self, "Isn't it great I didn't say it yet? That fells, so amazing. Even my last boyfriend never kissed them like that. But I'm not a lesbian, why does this feel so good? Beg her to stop, don't let her continue."

And I could hear myself whimpering as she as I squirmed under her, "Please no, I'm not like that." Yet she didn't stop and instead continued to unbutton my top, positioning her head between my breasts and looking up at me.

"Okay. I'll stop, just say the word." was her reply to my pathetic begging. I could see the smirk on her face as she undid the final button. Her hands now rubbing my belly upward to take hold of the underside of my bosom.

She hadn't looked down between my legs yet, but with my pajamas open there was nothing stopping her. My mind continued its argument while I whimpered, "You know why you haven't said the word yet. But I'm not a lesbian. Hah, ya let's just keep telling our self that. You know you want her to touch you, just ask her to and I bet she will. Wait, no I can't do that please just say the safeword."

Still, she hadn't even looked down yet at how vulnerable I was. One of her hands shifted and rubbed my thighs, eliciting a moan from me, but her head stayed between my breasts, her cheek gently pressed to my skin, "Tell me, my little lovely prisoner, what are you thinking."

Swallowing deeply I tried to calm my mind and found myself saying, "So many things, I don't even know where all my thoughts are right now."

With the hand on my thigh, she shifted her thumb so close to my pussy it must have only been millimeters away, "Yes you do. Tell me. Tell me or I'll button you right back up."

At the threat of being covered up again, I found myself answering before I had even fully focused my thoughts, "No please don't do that. I was thinking about you touching me. I want you to look at me and touch me and do what you want to me." What was I saying, I just couldn't believe it. This must not be me talking, but if it wasn't me then who?

With a giggle though, she responded, "No" and actually shifted her thumb away. I felt my self gasping for breath, I needed her to move it back. Why was she saying no? It felt like my mind was melting and she was denying me. I felt myself trying to wiggle my hips to get closer to her thumb again, but this was of course useless.

"But why?" I heard my own voice ask, it was a valid question, why was she saying no? But why wasn't I okay with her saying no? I had only moments ago been practically ordering myself to use my safeword when I thought she was going to touch me, only to now not hear that voice in my head at all. This was all so confusing.

Sitting up now, and lifting her head from my breasts, she leaned in very close to my lips and practically whispered, "Because you stole a kiss, and are being punished." and then she pressed her lips to mine and properly kissed me. This was so unfair, I had just brushed her lips as a joke and now she tasted my lips with her tongue like she could do whatever she wanted. I was even parting my lips for her and welcoming her to explore.

Tugging at the restraints my arms tried to wrap around her, but could barely lift from the bed. I didn't want the kiss to end, but eventually, our lips parted. Not at all by my choice, and I leaned up in an attempt to reconnect, but she lightly touched my lips with her fingertip and said, "No stealing."

So very flustered I stammered out, "But you just kissed me, that's not fair..."