Jamie, a trans lesbian college student crashing with a friend

"You sad, horny bitch."

The message came loud and clear from my feed. Of course, the algorithm only knew because I told it: skip the cute #wlw couple I used to watch religiously, linger too long on the thirst trap that came next, fav the latest cynical joke video from the doomer trans girl I followed last week.

But hey, everybody's allowed a little depression after a breakup, and my surroundings weren't exactly helping. I was curled up on the comforter of my borrowed bed, my lanky frame crammed onto the twin mattress, the bed crammed into the room. When the curtain dividing the room was closed, the bed felt borderline claustrophobic. But I'd left the curtain open until my roommate got home, so I could see her larger bed, desk, and dresser that had been the bedroom's original furnishings.

I scrolled back to the thirst trap, a masc standing in her bathroom in just a sports bra and low-rise pants. The bra was very minimizing, but she had great arms, and the pants hung really low below her toned abs. Around the fourth loop, I realized how hard I'd gotten, and I let a hand snake down to touch myself. Not jerking off, but with how horny I'd been, just the firm pressure of my hand against my cock made me shiver.

Suddenly, I heard the door to the room open. I jumped upright in a panic, adjusting the blue dress I'd worn today. Smoothing it out over my legs, fluffing the ruffles to give the illusion volume around my chest. I managed to get presentable, my dick trapped between my thighs before Ari came in.

"Oh!" I'd clearly surprised her too. "Sorry, Jamie, I thought you had class. Figured I'd have the room to myself for a while."

"Not on Fridays," I said, wincing inwardly at her disappointed tone. We were best friends, but we hadn't had much space since I'd moved in with her. Weeks later, I knew we were both on edge.

Ari nodded absently, tossing her schoolbag under her desk. She was a short girl, but thick. Spanish ancestors had given her a plush physique, along with her dark hair and olive skin. Today, she wore an open gray flannel over a plunging black V-neck, with tight denim cutoffs. Despite my better judgment, I felt my dick throb between my thighs as she bent over to grab her phone charger from the floor, the denim shorts straining. I had to **** myself to look away and think about my last math lecture.

"Hey, so," Ari said, standing back up. "It's the end of month coming up. Rent due this weekend."

"Oh, sure. It was three hundred last time, right? I'll need to check, but I should be able to send you that today."

"Well, that's fine, but..." She fidgeted with the phone and the charger in her hands. "When I agreed to let you crash here, it was supposed to be short-term."

Oh. So this was the conversation we were having. "Yeah, that's true," I said hesitantly. "But things have been pretty tight money-wise. Financial aid can pay for our deal, but Rae still has my deposit, and my parents aren't helping right now."

Ari sighed. "I know, Jay. Really, I get your situation. It's just, I think Moira's feeling like her house is getting crowded--"

"Maybe her parents should buy her another," I muttered.

"And, to be honest," Ari continued over my bitching. "I'm starting to go a little crazy myself, Jamie. I feel like I'm back in the dorms again, like I can never fully let go, you know? I need some space for me."

It wasn't a rejection, not really. On some level, I knew that. And I'd feel similarly in her place. But it hurt all the same, and I felt my walls going up.

"But we're friends, Ari. Besties." I couldn't keep the whine out of my voice, and I cringed to hear it. The pattern-matching part of my mind started laying out the rest of the fight from here. Next she'd say something like 'Even besties need time apart' in an equally defensive tone, and it'd get more heated from there.

Instead, Ari gave me a curious look, like the discussion had suddenly become purely intellectual. "Yeah, that's true, we're best friends."

Her tone caught me off-guard; it sounded like she actually wanted me to elaborate. I fumbled in my mind for the rest of an argument. "And, uh, people who know each other really well, like we do, they share space like this all the time, give up some privacy. Couples, sure, but it's about intimacy more than romance or sex. And close friendships like ours come with a lot of intimacy."

"Right, there's lots of ways to have close relationships," Ari said with a nod. She had a distant look in her eyes now, but she still seemed to be listening.

"All I'm saying is, maybe that's how we get through this situation." I gestured to the cramped bedroom around us. "Maybe we don't need privacy from each other in the normal way."

-10 BS. 90 remaining.

The weirdest thing about getting a notification direct to your brain: how normal it feels. Maybe it's a side effect of growing up with phones and video game UIs and all, I don't know. But it actually took a moment for me to think, 'Wait, notifications don't happen inside your head.'

To be fair, I was also distracted, watching Ari's reaction to my words. Her eyes glazed over for a moment. A second later, she blinked once and seemed normal again.

"You're right, Jamie. I honestly don't know why I was feeling that way. What kind of best friends would we be if we couldn't manage to share a room together?"

"Totally," I said slowly, trying to process this change of heart. Ari was an only child, and adapting to a roommate when she'd lived in the dorms had been really tough. This year, when I needed a place on zero notice, I knew it had been tough for her to say yes. My **** ramble about privacy and friendship couldn't have been *that* convincing, could it?

"That stuff with Moira is still real, though," Ari continued, pulling off her flannel and tossing it in into the hamper. "I had to give a lot of reassurances when you moved in, and I really do think she wants you gone soon."

"I can figure that out. Somehow." Normally, I wouldn't have much faith in my ability to convince our house's own ruling class of anything, but then, I seemed to be getting some extra help from somewhere.

I remembered the mind-notification again. With nowhere better to start, I opened my phone to the home screen. Sure enough, there was an icon I'd never seen before for an app called The Sophistry Generator. I tapped it and got a welcome splash screen:

The Sophistry Generator is a smartphone app that strengthens your logic in argumentation...

Mind control powers described in the friendly marketing copy of an app welcome screen. This had to be the source of the notification. And if it could ping my brain directly, why wouldn't it be able to do the other stuff it claimed? I scanned through the welcome dialogue, head spinning. Then I realized I hadn't parsed any of it, so I went back and read it again.

By the time I took my eyes off my phone, Ari was already half-naked.