"Party Mode" - A mysterious app appears to spice things up on a college campus

Monday night

Slowly, i climbed the stairs in the girls' dorms, thankful to be out of the rain. It was Tuesday, so Sarah was probably out at band practice - just as well, I'd have the room to myself. Time to get some studying done.

As I entered the door, I heard an electronic chime, like a cell phone notification.

~ Da-ding! ~

I trudged in to the dorm room, taking off my rain-soaked jacket. Matt was on the couch, staring nervously at nothing important on his phone, some star-wars spinoff playing silent and neglected on the TV. My TV, damn it. The room smelled faintly of burnt coffee and cheap ramen.

Ah, college.

Of course I would get assigned the one and only co-ed dorm room on campus. 'Luck of the Draw' was what the housing office called it, when I called to request a change. And when I called again, every day until move-in. State Northern University assigned dorm rooms and roommates randomly, and this year I got Matt. Neither my straight-A grades, nor my starting position on the softball team would buy me any special treatment, Miss Brown. Better luck next year. Eventually they stopped taking my calls.

So here I was, in the prime of my life, six weeks into sophomore year, plugging away at prereqs, busting my ass at the coffee shop, fitting in gym time in the spare moments. And coming home to a building full of boys.

And then there was Matt. At least he seemed harmless.

"Oh my god, its really her!" He sputtered under his breath, as I hung up my fleece to dry.

"Were you expecting someone else, Matt?" I replied dismissively. Matt was awkward, sure, but not usually outright weird like that. Harmless.

My State Northern Wildcats sweatshirt felt heavy on my shoulders. I was tired, sweaty, and I needed a shower. I went to my closet for a towel. At least the dorms had **** bedrooms.

Matt's phone made a bright, distracting chime sound, the same one I'd heard a earlier. It echoed in my head, for a second.

~ Da-ding! ~

"Hey, uh, Lauren?" Matt said, just as I was about to lock the bathroom door. "Come here for a moment, please?"

I cursed under my breath. He said it like it was a question, but it was worded as a command, and that little inflection wasn't an excuse to disobey.

"This had better be good, Matt," I huffed, walking between the couch and the TV, tossing my sweatshirt into the open doorway of my bedroom.

I stood there for a moment in my t-shirt and jeans, expectantly. Matt was glancing down nervously at his phone, and glancing up at me.

"Well?" I asked. "I don't have all night."

"Lauren, uhm, could you do some jumping jacks? uh, please?"

"What?" Jumping jacks? seriously? "Really? Fine. Whatever." My shoulders were sore from the gym, and my heart rate was only just coming down from the bike ride. I hopped up and down in an uneven rhythm. I could feel the sweat on my body, and my C-cup breasts shifted around uncomfortably behind my sports bra. No doubt the downstairs neighbors could hear me, too, jumping up and down on the floor like this. "So, do you mind telling me why? Or do you seriously not have anything better to do?" I asked.

Matt just stared, wide eyed, as I jumped stiffly up and down. "Oh my god," he muttered under his breath. "It really works."

"What works, Matt?" I replied. "you're being weird. Can I stop soon? I have homework."

His mouth widened into a toothy grin.

"Stop."

I stopped.

"Bend over."

I bent over.

"Do the splits."

I awkwardly shuffled down into the best splits I could manage in my jeans, still bent over at the waist, acutely aware of the view I was giving the still-silent television behind me. At least the window blinds were down.

"Are you... going somewhere with this? You're being a real creep, Matt," I interjected, still straining my aching legs to get lower into a more complete split.

I managed to get pretty low, considering.

"Say the alphabet backwards."

"Seriously? Z Y X W V... U, uh, ... P, maybe, T...."

"That's enough. Stand up."

I did.

When I looked up, Matt was grinning ear to ear. He was staring up at me like a piece of meat, and gripping his cell phone like it was about to leap out of his hand.

"Matt, you're starting to scare me. Whats all this about?"

still grinning like a madman, he finally replied, with a voice like he'd just hit the Powerball. "Oh my god you have to do what I tell you."

Jesus, really? "Uh, no shit, Matt. Did you seriously just figure this out? Did you think I was out here because I enjoy your company? Now let me go already, I need a shower."

Just perfect. And here I thought he was being polite before, never making me so much as vacuum the floor the whole time we'd roomed together. He didn't even know!

And now he did.

Fuck.

"T- take your shirt off." He sputtered.

God damn it, Matt.

I scowled, slipping my sweaty forest-green t-shirt up over my head, revealing a black sports bra.

"What the fuck Matt. Just because I have to do what you say doesn't mean you get to harass me like this. I swear to-" just as i was about to really lay into him, he cut me off, eyes locked onto my sweaty C-cups.

"Can I see them?"

"That's IT, the second I get out of here, I'm-"

"Shhhhhhh. Shush".

I shut my mouth. nothing else to do, since he told me to. but I didn't have to show him my breasts, not yet. I told myself it didn't count- He asked a question, right? it wasn't a command. I knew I should, but I didn't have to-

"Show me."

Of course.

Gingerly, I pulled my sports bra up over my sweaty C-cups, wincing as it grazed a nipple. The chill of the air made me feel even more exposed. My face was a paper-white mask of anger.

Matt stared, eyes fixed on my naked chest. "Play with them a little. Try to enjoy it."

I was panicking a little now. As I grabbed each breast in a hand, squeezing and kneading them, I turned that command over in my head. I'd be reporting this asshole to the campus police soon enough. I might even get a new roommate, one who *couldn't* command my every action with a word.

But for now, I had to play with my breasts- easy enough, despite the mortifying exposure and Matt's piercing stare, all I needed to do was lift and squeeze and pinch. But I also had to try to enjoy it.

"try to enjoy it!" The nerve! I was already giving him a show like I'd never given anyone, I already had to do his every bidding, and now he wanted me to like it, too? How was I supposed to do that?

I tried my best. I pinched a nipple sharply between my finger and thumb, and told myself to embrace the shock of pleasure and pain that shot through my body. I told myself I liked the feel of Matt's piercing gaze on my bare skin. I tried to imagine Nathan, my high school crush, or that straw-haired German exchange student from Math 205. I told myself it was good to be an object of desire, to feel wanted, maybe? I wasn't sure how well I could lie to myself. It felt like a stretch. Not to mention degrading.

I rolled a nipple between my fingers , doing my best to savor the warm glow of sensation.

I looked up at Matt, hoping I'd given him enough. Until he said I could stop, I still had to enjoy myself, and that was getting in the way of getting good and mad at the little leering creep.

I stared up at the ceiling, trying my best to savor the warm, slightly springy feel of my admittedly pretty nice C-cups filling my hands. Matt's voice pulled me out of it.

"Nice, kind of small maybe."

I couldn't believe it. Here I was putting myself on display for him, and trying my best to enjoy it, even, against my will, and he was staring at some nothing important on his phone and talking down to me.

They're not even that small! What does he expect, some anime girl with tits like melons?

Just as I was wondering if "trying to enjoy it" would mean tricking myself into developing a humiliation kink, my train of thought was momentarily derailed by that same annoying cell phone chime again.

~ Da-ding! ~

I looked back at him, still luxuriating in the warm pleasure of my soft, heavy breastflesh squishing and bouncing in my hands as lifted and pressed them against each other. Matt hardly needed to tell me to enjoy this- I'd made myself cum with these tasty melons a thousand times before. And its not like i minded being seen. I'd long since grown to enjoy the stares and double-takes my massive sweater-puppies commanded as they bounced and swayed. It wasn't as if I could keep them hidden, looking like a pair of basketballs hanging from my chest. I squeezed and tugged my thumb-sized left nipple, feeling my areolae, a little bigger than my palm, pressing against the heel of my hand. I felt my panties getting wet.

Okay, maybe if I'd had a choice in the matter, I probably wouldn't be playing with my tits, just about fully masturbating them now, for my asshole roommate who I hated. This was a massive invasion of my privacy. Harassment. A flagrant **** of the absolute power his words held over my actions. I should call the cops on his scrawny ass.

But I also had to try to enjoy it, and that meant setting all that very pertinent and concerning unpleasantness aside and leaning all the way into the exhibitionist streak I'd been developing ever since my way-past-huge all-natural sweater-streachers had grown in and made me a local celebrity.

Matt, for his part, was beaming as he sat back and watched, an erection tenting his shorts, and a transfixed grin on his face like it was Christmas morning. well, I considered, He ought to be. My premium LonelyFans subscribers pay good money for shows like this, and here he is getting it for free.

I let out an exaggerated moan of pleasure. I loved my tits.

Sure, my tremendous natural growth had cut off a promising early athletics career - I'm convinced I could have gotten a scholarship, if they hadn't gotten in the way of my pitching. But through the magic of the internet and its countless thirsty strangers, they had landed me my own kind of scholarship.

I felt myself get close to cumming, my knees felt weak, my panties were soaked, and Matt's earlier command to "stand up" was the only thing keeping me on my feet. Matt was transfixed, his jaw hanging slack, as I frantically rubbed and pulled at my huge, hard nipples. He was squirming in the couch, clearly rock hard under his shorts - which was super creepy of him, I reminded myself, distantly.

As my eyes rolled back and I felt my core and thighs tighten with the onset of one of my trademark breastplay orgasms, I caught a glace of Matt staring down at that nothing important he'd been fiddling with all evening. As I gasped out a final gasp of pleasure, I heard a harsh BZZZTT sound, like a buzzer in a game show - followed by the clatter of Matt's phone and something else hitting the floor.

As I stood up on my shaking legs, recovering from the most intense orgasm I'd had in weeks, I saw what had made the noise. Matt was gone. In front of the couch, where he had been sitting, was a bright pink plastic dildo, softly vibrating in pulses, in a way that reminded me more of breathing than an electric motor.

his cellphone was still turned on. I looked away by reflex, for a second, expecting the nothing important that Matt had had on his phone all evening, but instead- or, no, it was the same app. For a moment I thought it was some kind of game - the display was bright and colorful, with text in block capitals and cartoonish lightning effects wooshing across the cracked little screen. I took the phone in my hand as I turned to sit on the floor, back against the couch. I read the text on the screen.

"PENALTY ACTIVATED!:

SHARE THE LOVE: You tried to change a single person on their own more than three times in a row! Now they get a turn, and you get to be their special gift until their turn is up. Better luck next time, MATT!"

Just as I finished reading it, the screen went dark. I looked again at the shiny pink dildo that had clattered to the floor, picking it up and turning it over in my hands. The first thing I noticed, besides the vibration that sounded like lifelike breathing, was that the surface was supernaturally clean, despite the less-than-spotless state of the carpet. The second was that it was strangely warm, like living flesh, despite feeling otherwise like normal rubber.

"You must be that 'gift' the phone mentioned... is that you in there, Matt?" the pulsing vibration got quicker, and more irregular. It seemed excited, or scared. I grinned as I thought of how the tables had turned. "You're gonna have some explaining to do if you ever get out of this thing." The dildo's buzzing slowed a little. "For now, I think we'll be good friends." I gave the lifelike rubber head of the pink dildo a little kiss, and left it buzzing frantically on the TV stand.

****

when I had finally dried myself from the shower and changed into my pajamas, I collapsed on my bed, lying on my back, head propped up on my big pillow. Homework could wait, after all that. Still glowing, just a little, from the orgasm I'd had at the end of Matt's little 'show', I pulled out my own cell phone, balancing it on my incredible giant titties to check my socials and my LonelyFans notifications. Instead, as I entered my pin (8-0-0-8-5, of course), an unfamiliar screen popped up.

"INSTALLATION SUCCESSFUL!

Welcome to WORLDMASTER™: Party Edition™: Round Robin Special Game™! It's your turn to change the world! Are you ready, LAUREN?"

and a single, rhythmically throbbing yellow button which read 'BEGIN ROUND 2'.