How I Became my Roommates' Slut

“Yeah, ride it, you dirty bitch,” Julien's imagined voice snarled in my mind, his dominating aura flooding my thoughts.

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  • 2533 Words
  • 11 Min Read

It was time.

Greg grabbed the whiteboard marker like he was about to draw up a game plan before a match.

“Alright. New rules. We keep this simple.”

He uncapped the marker with his teeth and started writing in big, blocky letters:

FUCK RULES

Julien leaned over my shoulder, half-smirking :

“Damn, we’re really doing this, huh.”

“Shut up and listen,” Greg shot back. “Where making all this because of you.”

He wrote the first line, pressing way too hard:

1. No sex in shared spaces.

He stepped back, looked at it, then added:

→ Bedrooms only. Or outside.

Julien let out a short laugh.
“‘Or outside’? What is this, a public service announcement?”

Greg shrugged:
“I’m covering all possibilities.”

I mean, considering what we already did in the swimming pool locker rooms, that was pretty on point of Greg to think about that possibility.

Adrien, arms crossed, tilted his head slightly:

“Define ‘outside.’ Because I’m not dealing with police reports over this.”

“That’s on you,” Greg replied dryly, already moving on. “Just be discreet enough.”

He wrote the second rule:

2. Heads-up in the group chat (use a code if needed).

Julien raised a hand like a student:

“So how about saying something like ‘Gotta use Steph, don’t mind me’.”

Shit...

“No, we need a better code.” Adrien said calmly. “Something subtle.”

Julien grinned:

“Like what? ‘Going for a swim’?”

Greg didn’t even turn around

“I don’t care what you call it. Just warn us.”

“How about ‘Going for a stretch’.”

I swallowed.

“That’s better.” Greg nodded.

Third rule:

3. Respect closed doors. No interruptions.

Adrien nodded:

“That one should’ve been obvious.”

Julien glanced at him sideways:

“Whey, I actually didn’t care you watching us dude.”

Adrien didn’t answer, just adjusted his posture, slightly embarrassed.

Greg underlined the last line, then turned back to us:

“And finally...”

He paused, looking straight at Julien.

“No dragging Steph into weird situations without checking first. He has to consent full time, OK?”

Julien raised both hands in mock surrender:

“Whoa, okay coach. Relax. What’s all that supposed to mean?”

“Making sure the new one is doing good.” The rugby guy answered, his gaze almost soft on me, for once.

Julien looked at me, smirking:

“See? You’ve got protection now.”

I wasn’t sure that reassured me, but I did like that caring side of Gregory.

Adrien stepped forward a bit:

“So… we’re all clear on boundaries? Like… are you OK with this situation Steph?”

I didn’t have to hesitate:

“Yeah. Keeps things clean.”

Julien snorted:

“‘Clean.’ That’s a funny word for what’s going on here.”

Greg ignored him, then added one last line at the bottom of the board, almost as an afterthought:

4. No jealousy.

That one made the room go quiet for a second.

Julien raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

Greg met his gaze:

“Seriously. I can see how things could go wrong here. We need to stayed tight, as a team. Alright?”

Adrien shifted slightly, then gave a small nod:

“I mean, I’m just exploring. I don’t plan to go very far with all this.”

Julien clicked his tongue, but didn’t argue.

Then, of course, he couldn’t resist:

“Curvy’s right, relax. You’re acting like we’re about to fall in love or something.”

He pointed at himself with his thumb.

“I’m straight, alright? This?” he gestured vaguely toward me, then the room, “this is just… fun. Means nothing.”

Greg raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.

Julien kept going, grinning:

“Seriously, it’s just physical. Same as hooking up with a chick except—” he glanced at me, amused, “—Steph’s more… available.”

I felt my ears burn a little.

Adrien shifted beside me, then cleared his throat :

“I mean… yeah. Same here.”

Both Julien and Greg turned to him.

He shrugged, trying to sound casual :

“We kissed. That’s it. And I didn’t suddenly feel… attracted to men or anything.”

A small pause.

“It was nice,” he admitted, a bit more quietly. “But I don’t think that changes what I am.”

Julien smirked :

“See? Told you. No big existential crisis.”

Greg crossed his arms, thinking for a second before nodding slowly.

“Yeah. I get that.”

He looked at each of us in turn.

“I’m the same. Straight as an arrow.”

Why did they have to defend themselves like that ?

Another pause.

Then, more thoughtfully:

“But…” he tilted his head slightly, “situations change. Context matters.”

Julien scoffed lightly :

“What, you planning on writing a thesis about it now?”

“I’m serious,” Greg replied, unfazed. “You spend enough time around someone, things shift. You get used to stuff. You stop overthinking.”

Adrien nodded, more engaged now :

“He’s right. Context plays a huge role in attraction. Didn’t see myself kissing a dude a few days ealier. But…”

Finally, they were reaching the truth.

I was in the bloody same situation !

Julien looked between them, amused :

“Damn, listen to you two. One week with Steph and you’re already questioning the fabric of reality.”

“I’m not questioning anything,” Adrien replied calmly. “I’m just saying it’s not as rigid as people like to think.”

Greg gave a short grunt of agreement.

Julien pushed himself off the wall, stretching :

“Alright, philosophers, I’ll let you debate your ‘fluidity’ or whatever.”

He shot me a grin.

“Meanwhile, I’m just gonna enjoy what’s right in front of me.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile there.

Greg just shook his head.

And me?

I stayed quiet.

But something in what they’d said… lingered.

“Well… at least you guys are honest.” I tried, after keeping myself quite all this time.

Greg capped the marker and tossed it onto the table.

“Meeting’s over.”

Then, as he turned toward the kitchen:

“And Steph—next time, just don’t start your day in the living room, alright?”

Julien added with a grin:

“Yeah, save that energy for private sessions with one of us.”

All three of them looked at me for a brief second.

And somehow, despite everything…

It almost felt normal.


Showing up late to a history lecture is never great.

But showing up late while suddenly feeling like everyone around you is judging you… that’s worse.

Why the hell did I bring that stupid plug?

I was convinced people could read it on my face—that they somehow knew I had an ass-destroying device sitting in my bag.

I slipped into a seat as fast as I could, trying to calm down.

Eventually, I managed to focus—at least a little—on ancient history.

I tried—really tried—to focus.

On the screen in front of me, the lecture slides had shifted to a new section:

“Administrative Structures in the Hellenistic World (circa 300 BC)”

The professor was going on about the fragmentation of Alexander the Great’s empire after his death—how his generals, the Diadochi, had carved the territory into competing kingdoms. The Ptolemies in Egypt, the Seleucids in the East, the Antigonids in Macedonia…

I scribbled a few notes.

Decentralized administration… satrapies maintained but adapted… local elites integrated into governance…

It was actually interesting. The way power had to constantly adapt, negotiate with local systems, maintain control without direct oversight…

Like negotiating with my needy roommates...

My phone buzzed.

I ignored it.

The professor clicked to the next slide.

“Taxation and Resource Management in the Early Hellenistic States”

Right. Focus.

Grain supply, land taxes, control of trade routes—

Buzz.

I sighed, glancing down.

Coloc Squad 🏠

Of course.

Greg: who the hell finished the olive oil AGAIN

Greg: this is the third time this week

I blinked.

Seriously? That’s what we’re dealing with right now?

Julien: chill big guy 😂

Julien: someone will grab some today

I couldn’t help a small smile.

Greg:

“we need to organize better
this is getting annoying”

The professor was now talking about centralized storage systems in Alexandria, I began looking more often at the regular messages.

They were entertaining to say the least.

Adrien:
“I won’t be there for dinner btw
eating with colleagues”

Adrien:
“don’t wait for me”

I paused for a second.

Adrien.

Was he avoiding me?

I really hope not.

Buzz.

Julien:
“see big G problem solved
less mouths to feed ”

Greg:
“not the point”

I exhaled, then typed quickly under the table.

Steph:
“I can grab olive oil on my way back”

I hesitated a second before sending it.

Why did I do that?

Something took over me.

Like if I needed to do it.

Greg.

Last time had been… something.

I wanted to please him, just to avoid angering him again.

Julien:
“YEAH ”

Julien:
“look at that
you got urself some personal shopper now”

I rolled my eyes.

Greg:
“Cool get the Puget
not the cheap one curvy always buy”

Of course.

Steph:
“sure”

Greg:
“and maybe eggs too
we’re low”

I let out a quiet laugh under my breath.

Steph:
“yeah okay”

Greg:
“and bread”

I shook my head, typing again.

Steph:
“alright anything else sir? ”

There was a pause.

Then:

Greg:
“nah that’s good”

Julien:
“bro just adopted you”

Greg:

“Mind ur own

sucker”

Julien:

“Oh I know a good one”

Shit…

They were non stop joking after that, so I had to intervene: I locked my phone, slipping it back into my bag.

I leaned back slightly, refocusing.

This time, it stuck a little better.

Still… somewhere in the back of my mind, there was that strange, quiet satisfaction.

Helping out.

Being… useful.

Even if it was just olive oil, or other common groceries.

I liked that.


Now, alone in this grimy stall, pants and boxers yanked down to my ankles, I knelt on the cold, sticky tile floor, ass cheeks spread wide in the air, vulnerable as fuck.

What am I doing?

My knees ached against the dirt, but the humiliation was pushing me even more! I grabbed the plug from my bag.

The sink faucet ran hot, steam rising as I held it under the stream, letting the water slick it up like makeshift lube.

My hands shook, nerves firing through me, but Julien's influence pulsed in my mind. He wanted this. He demanded it.

I positioned the tip against my asshole, the heat from the water making it throb already.

“Come on,” I whispered to myself, breath hitching.

I pushed, slow and steady, the pointed end pressing into my tight ring. It resisted at first, my hole clenching like it knew better, but I bore down, grunting softly.

A sharp burn shot through me as the plug breached, stretching my hole wider.

“Fuck,” I gasped, the word slipping out unintended, echoing faintly off the tiled walls.

My face flushed:

God, what if someone heard?

Outside, the hallway thrummed with footsteps, laughter, students rushing to class, oblivious to the slut on his knees getting his ass invaded.

I rocked back, imagining it was Julien's thick cock instead, that veiny swimmer's dick he'd bragged about, hard and insistent. His voice echoed in my head, cocky as ever.

I fucked the plug in deeper, twisting my hips, the silicone sliding inch by inch into my ass. I pictured Julien behind me, his strong hands gripping my hips, slamming his cock into this forbidden hole while I begged like the submissive whore he'd turned me into.

Is it what women feel when they’re fucked?

Maybe I understand know.

The plug popped past the widest part, and I shoved harder, my fingers now wrapped around the flared base, knuckles brushing my taint.

Holy shit!

It was in—all the way, filling me up in a weird way: like I was about to shit myself, but the pressure twisted into something filthy and addictive.


I held still for a second, panting, sweat beading on my forehead. I clenched experimentally, the plug shifting inside, sending sparks up my spine.

Fuck.

The plug sat heavy inside me, a constant throb against my inner walls, making every tiny shift send jolts through my ass. I couldn't stop now, that cocky bastard was owning me from afar.

My cock had leaked a steady drip onto the filthy floor, the tip glistening under the harsh lights, begging for attention.

Fuck it.

If this made me question my straight days, so be it!

Julien had already bent my brain into craving his dominance anyway.

I wrapped my right hand around my leaking cock, stroking slow at first, the pre-cum making my palm glide easier. With my other hand, I gripped the plug's base, pulling it out an inch before shoving it back in, matching the rhythm of my jerks.

I need more.

I managed to block it on the ground, maintaining it with one hand and sat on it, making it go all the way inside, before riding it slowly! I rocked back onto my heels, then shifted, pulling my pants further down to have better freedom of movement.

I pictured, Julien, Greg and even Adrien, telling me how much they enjoyed my hole.

“Yeah, ride it, you dirty bitch,” Julien's imagined voice snarled in my mind, his dominating aura flooding my thoughts. I pictured him there, that athletic swimmer body towering over me, his huge cock—way thicker and longer than this plug—thrusting into my stretched hole, splitting me wide open. His hands on my shoulders, forcing me down harder, his cocky grin as he watched me break.

The fantasy was felt so real right now, on the floor of those campus toilets, as if he was taking me after practice, my bounces picking up pace, ass slamming onto the plug rougher now, the burn turning to raw pleasure that shot straight to my balls.

Students' chatter outside blurred into white noise as my hole was literally spasming around Julien’s toy, the plug rubbing every sensitive spot inside, my prostate throbbing under the assault.

All because of that bastard swimmer.

It hit too fast, the pressure snapping without warning.

Oh shit!

No way!

I’m gonna cum from my ass?

It’s so fucking intense.

Is that normal?

Am I…?

Gonna cum!

I gasped, scrambling off the floor a rush with the plug still lodged deep as I aimed my cock at the toilet bowl.

No more jerking needed though, the friction alone did it, my ass clenching rhythmically around the plug as ropes of hot cum erupted from my tip, splattering into the water below.

Fuck!!!

I came long and hard, my body shaking, my moans ripping out from my throat.

Holy fuuuh!

Pulse after pulse, my balls emptying in waves that left me dizzy, the plug amplifying every spurt, milking me dry. Cum kept shooting, ages it felt like, my hole fluttering wildly, the fullness pushing me over the edge into bliss.

I slumped against the stall wall, chest heaving, cock softening in my hand with aftershocks twitching through me.

The plug stayed put, a heavy reminder of my roommate control. Outside, the hallway buzzed on, oblivious, but I knew—I was his now, trained and craving the real thing.

And maybe my two other roommates would want some of it too.

Now I was pretty sure.

Anal play could feel fucking great.

And I even started thinking about going even further: having Julien’s real cock inside.

That would feel insanely good, right?

Like, even better that this stupid toy.

Who knows?

When I took my phone back on the counter, still panting from my session, my heart skipped a bit:

On the group chat:

Julien changed your nickname to => "House Slut"


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