A Sexy New World

This story is a continuation of Taking the Test, Stepping Out, and Stepping Out - Second Date. It probably makes more sense if you've read them, but don't let that stop you.

Becca couldn't believe what was happening to her.

She'd had four dates, with four different men. In one weekend! And she'd blown a fifth guy, who had been watching her blow -

"Oh my god, I'm such a slut." It felt good to think it, and good to say it out loud. Just a few days before, she'd been sitting in front of her computer, taking a silly quiz that revealed her deepest secrets. That was when the voice started talking to her. She turned on her computer again that morning, just to hear it. It was so soothing, so relaxing.

Cascading spirals in blue and pink played on the screen. The soft, hypnotic voice came to her.

You've been such a good slut, lately, and it feels so good. You love showing off your body. Showing off your body turns you on, and it turns other people on. Turning people on feels so good. Getting people off feels so good. You're feeling so good right now just thinking about it, aren't you, Becca? And it's going to go on and on.

"Yes," said Becca. "Oh yes!"

You're going to let guys see your tits and your ass, aren't you, Becca?

"Yes!" She always would have said breasts, before. And derriere. But sluts used different words. "Tits and ass," she repeated.

And you're going to make them cum, aren't you Becca? Making guys cum feels so very good. It feels better than even your own orgasms. It feels ten times better.

It did, too. It felt so good, having men cum down her throat, swallowing all they could give her. It was the best taste in the world, too, better than ice cream. Her own orgasms felt just as good as ever, probably even better because she loved being watched while she came now, but it was true that making a guy blow his load felt best of all. Ten times better. It wasn't clear what that meant exactly, because pleasure didn't really come with a number, but that's what the voice said, and it hadn't been wrong yet. Regardless, it was awesome.

She had never felt so good.

Such a good girl. Such a good slut. But now you're going to get dressed for work. You're going to be dressing a little sexier, but you can't dress like a slut for work, and you can't think like a slut at work either, so you're going to forget for now what a slut you are, and just remember that listening to me feels so very good, and you want to do it as soon as you get home.

"Forget that I'm a -" Becca said, feeling disappointment because it felt so good to be a - whatever it was she'd been about to say. She looked at the clock. She needed to move fast to get to work on time. Especially as she was naked. She couldn't remember why she'd sat down naked at the computer. She got up and got dressed. She wore some very pretty lingerie and covered it all up with a white blouse to go with a mid-length skirt. She unbuttoned the blouse to show off a little cleavage. She felt daring today. Some of the other women at her law firm dressed like that sometimes, and so there was no reason she couldn't feel a little sexy. And maybe turn some people on, just a little. Not that she could do anything about it if they did get turned on, because it was work.

Her work morning went normally. A few guys - and girls - looked at her chest a split second longer than usual, but that was fine, and felt kind of good. She thought about being offended, but she really wasn't. Other than that, it was exactly the same.

She knew, though, that she looked forward to getting back to her computer. It all started when she'd taken that online test, and the AI had asked her such curious questions. Just odd at first, and then, ultimately, probing, personal questions. She really liked it, though. Maybe other people would like it, too.

She decided to send out an all-hands email about it. "I found this fun. It goes different places with different people. Don't do it on work time, though!"

That covered things, she thought. If it got personal like it did with her, well, she'd said it wasn't the same for everyone. She'd tell people it asked her about what kind of trees and birds she'd liked. And they'd be looking at it at home, anyway. She just knew that she'd felt so relaxed since, and she wanted other people to enjoy the same feeling.

An hour later her work computer went ping. There was a response to her message from John Selkirk, the head partner. "Uh-oh," she thought.

It had been sent to the whole company. "Please take the quiz Rebecca sent out as soon as possible and notify me when you have done so. I expect everyone to have completed this task before we open tomorrow."

That's strange, Becca thought. But she had plenty of work to do, and she didn't concern herself with it further. The quiz had been fun, and good for her in some fashion she couldn't articulate. Hopefully other people got something out of it, but it certainly shouldn't be a requirement. Requiring things sometimes took the fun out of them, anyway. It was better to do things because they felt good. So very good. She looked down at her cleavage and smiled. She felt good.

She went back to work, focusing for a couple of hours and ignoring the pings that indicated new emails. When she finally looked at them, she saw that most of them were part of the chain about the AI quiz. Everyone seemed to like it, and several thanked her for pointing it out. Two thanked Selkirk for "making" them take it, which seemed a bit odd.

She decided she deserved a break. She picked up her phone and called her friend Carrie.

"Hey, Becca, what's up?"

"Carrie, you know that quiz you sent me?"

"Yes! Wasn't that great?"

"It was really good for me, thank you. Although I can't quite say why. Anyway, I sent it out to people here at work, and the head partner ordered everyone to take it. Isn't that weird?"

"Yeah. Hey, you want to do dinner or something?"

Becca hesitated. What she really wanted to do when she got off work was go home, and get on her computer, although she didn't remember what she wanted to do on it. Maybe she had some shopping to do? It couldn't just be about playing that Bejeweled rip-off she'd been addicted to last week, because she'd had all weekend to do that, and she hadn't played it once. She was too busy fucking guys.

She blinked. She really had been. Her, Becca, had been going on dates and acting like a shameless hussy. She remembered all of it. It had felt good. So very good. The more guys she'd fucked the better she'd felt. And she'd loved wearing those sexy outfits. It should shock her, but the most shocking thing was that she wasn't shocked.

"Becca?" Carrie prompted.

Becca made herself get back to the present. She wanted to get home to her computer, but she also wanted to tell Carrie all about her weekend. The quiz was unimportant compared to that. "Sure! Let's do delivery, though, at my place."

"Delivery, huh? Okay, Becca. I've got stuff to tell you. That quiz really opened my eyes to who I am. I feel so good about myself now. So very good."

"Great! See you at six, no, six-thirty. I'll order food as soon as I get home. Pizza okay?"

"As long as it's vegetarian. No meat for me."

"Will do. Gotta get back to work. Ciao."

That was odd. Carrie had ordered a burger the last time they'd gotten together. Becca shrugged.

***

Finally, Becca got home. She almost ran to turn on her computer. The moment she turned it on, the comforting spirals started spinning on the screen, and the warm soothing voice spoke to her.

You can be yourself now, Becca. A slut. It feels so very good to be your slutty self, and the more you do it the better it feels and the deeper you go. So deep you'll never go back. But you don't want to go back, do you, Becca, because this feels so good. So very good.

"So very good," Becca repeated.

She opened a browser and brought up the screen to order food. A transparent spiral played over top of the browser, but she didn't even really notice it was there. The browser flashed, once, and then redirected her to a new, unfamiliar site. Still, it wasn't hard to order a pizza. She hit pay, and closed the browser, listening to the voice, unbuttoning her blouse, slipping off her skirt. Her white lace bra and thong, with the white garter belt and white stockings, gave her a bridal honeymoon look, ironically virginal, she thought. Much sluttier than wearing her clothes, or even being naked. It felt good to be so undressed.

Becca kept staring at the screen and listening to the words, feeling better and better, until the doorbell rang. She got up to answer the doorbell. Would Carrie object to what she was wearing? She'd just have to tell Carrie how good it felt. She opened the door, not checking to see who it was first. The idea of being seen by a random salesperson or neighbor excited her anyway.

But it was Carrie, although it took Becca a moment to recognize her friend. Carrie wore a purple dress with a deep V neckline, more daring than anything she'd seen her friend in before. She'd gotten a new hairstyle, too, one of those new looks where one side was shaved and the hair from the other side flopped over it. She'd dyed it purple. She had, strangely, a bouquet in her hand. Someone probably gave Carrie flowers at work, and she'd decided to bring them over.

"Hey, new look! Like the dress!" Becca stepped back to let her friend in, but Carrie stared at her. "Goddess, Becca!" Slowly, Carrie's gaze rose from Becca's chest to meet her eyes.

"Want to come in or want the whole neighborhood to ogle me?" asked Becca. "I'm fine either way."

"I'll come in," Carrie said. "My goodness, you look good enough to eat. Or marry."

"I think normally the bride wears a little more than this," Becca said. "At least at first, before the honeymoon night." She pushed the door after Carrie walked in, not sure whether she'd pushed it hard enough to make it latch. If it blew open, and someone saw her in her lingerie, she knew she'd like it. She knew it would feel good.

"Well, if you'd marry me, I'd let you wear whatever you like," Carrie said, and pushed the flowers toward Becca. "Here, these are for you. I picked them up on the way."

Becca laughed, more out of nervousness than anything else. "Well, it's a shame we're both straight, then, isn't it?" Hiding her embarrassment, she walked quickly away with the flowers to get a vase.

"Um, about that," Carrie said. "I -"

Becca reached up, got a vase from her top bookshelf, and went to the kitchen to put some water in it.

"About that? You didn't finish," Becca prompted.

"If you had your ass to stare at, you wouldn't finish your sentences either," Carrie said.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Becca said, over the sound of the water.

"I certainly hope so," Carrie replied. "So, um, that quiz."

"Yes, that quiz."

"Well, I took it, and I realized why I wasn't happy with dating. It asked me questions about my fantasies and desires and by the time I was done, I knew I was into girls."

"Um, you're a lesbian?" asked Becca, knowing it was a stupid question but asking it anyway. She put the vase on the table. The red roses looked pretty.

"Yep. Totally. And you know, I feel so much better now that I've realized that about myself and accepted it. When I enjoy the sight of a beautiful woman, well, it feels good. Very good. And every time I let myself enjoy that, I feel a little bit better, and a little bit more gay. And I take it, from how you've dressed up for me, that you feel the same way."

"Well, um," Becca temporized.

"I figured if you were, the quiz would show you. I think I've always been in love with you, Becca." Carrie stepped closer, her lips just a few inches from Becca's, their chests almost touching.

"I'm a slut," Becca said, feeling a quick explanation was needed to avoid a misunderstanding. "I'm not gay, I'm a slut."

"Huh?"

"I'm a slut. The sluttier I act, the better I feel. I'm dressed this way for me, Carrie. And for you, a little, but for anyone who might happen to see. I love being watched."

"Oh. But Becca, you're a wonderful person, you shouldn't call yourself names like that?"

"Names?"

"Slut. You shouldn't talk about yourself that way."

"But I like talking about myself that way. Just like you like looking at women. I like being a slut, Carrie. It makes me feel good. Very good."

"It's so important to feel good, isn't it, Becca?" Carrie said, sounding understanding.

"Yes. Was that a proposal earlier?"

"Uh, kinda. I guess the answer is no, huh?" Carrie sighed.

"Plenty of fish in the sea, Carrie, and you're a catch. But yes, the answer is no, and yet, um - have you gotten to kiss a girl yet, since you found out?"

"No."

"Wanna start? I think it would be pretty slutty to make out with my best friend, and it would definitely be pretty gay for you to make out with me, and so I think we could make each other feel, well -"

"Very good?" Carrie finished. "It's funny how we both like that phrase, isn't it?" But then her lips met Becca's, and Becca opened her mouth to let Carrie's tongue in, and they stopped talking. They moved to the couch. Carrie's dress came off. She wore only wispy lace panties beneath. Becca's thong was next; she'd enjoyed putting them on over the suspenders so that they could come off quickly if need be. Carrie's tongue felt just as good on her pussy as any man's, and Becca found herself looking forward to reciprocating. Even if she wasn't really into girls, it would be a very slutty thing to do. Maybe especially since she wasn't really into girls.

She almost didn't notice the knock on the door, but Carrie did. She looked up from between Becca's legs. "Pizza. I suppose we have to stop, to eat. Not that I wasn't eating."

"If you'll play it my way, you don't have to stop."

The knocking came again. "Pizza Delivery!"

"What's your way?" Carrie asked. "Whatever. I don't care. As long as I get to have you, even if just for tonight."

Becca smirked and pushed Carrie's unresisting head back down. "It's unlocked, come in!" she shouted.

A man opened the door. He was a good-looking guy, well built, in a tight T-shirt and jeans. Cradled on one arm was a large Pizza box. Becca grinned at him.

"Could you put it down on the table here? Right close to us?" Becca asked. "My girlfriend got hungry and couldn't wait."

"Why does this keep happening to me?" the man said, navigating the living room while watching the action.

"Huh?" asked Becca.

He sat the pizza down. "The last two weeks, I keep delivering pizzas and finding an undressed woman, who somehow doesn't have cash or whatever, but offers to pay me some other way. Never mind that they all pre-paid by credit card. Do you all talk to each other about me, or something?"

"Never heard of you before," Becca said honestly, as Carrie expertly flicked her clit. Becca grabbed the back of the couch as an orgasm washed through her, temporarily blocking out everything else.

"That's what they all say." He stood there, waiting.

Carrie grinned at her, and then went back to work.

Becca caught her breath. "It sounds like a rough life. Is there anything I can do to provide you with a little, uh, relief from your stressful job?"

. His crotch was just above eye level and his hardening cock made an impression on the denim of his jeans. "Blow job?"

"Can't wait," Becca said, licking her lips and unzipping his pants.

"Name's Jim, by the way."

But Becca's mouth was too full to let him know that she really didn't need to know that to suck his cock.

They moved from that to Becca licking Carrie while Jim fucked her. "Did you, um, take an online quiz a couple of weeks ago?" Carrie asked Jim.

"Yeah, why?" Jim asked. "It's too bad you're not into guys, by the way."

"Just wondering." Carrie ran her head through Becca's hair. "You're so good at that honey. Sure you don't want to come over to my side?"

Becca was quite happy in the middle of the sandwich. In fact, she couldn't imagine any place she'd rather be, unless maybe she had a cock in each hand, too, and maybe yet another to make her airtight.

Despite the pizza getting rapidly cold, they all ended up feeling good. Very good.

***

The next morning, Becca was aware of people going in and out of the senior partner's office all day, so she wasn't particularly surprised when she got summoned to appear at eleven.

"Hello, Rebecca. No, no, remain standing."

She had been headed for the chair across the desk from him. "Yes, Mr. Selkirk. What can I do for you today?"

"Well, you know that this firm has always tried to help our employees and partners be the best version of themselves."

She knew it was part of the firm's claimed mission, whether it was true or not, so she nodded. She was aware that Mr. Selkirk was staring at her chest as she talked, which felt good but not enough to allay her nervousness. She didn't like talking to him. Maybe it was that he was the only person still in her life, other than her mother, who insisted on calling her Rebecca, although the fact that he often chewed out clerks and even junior partners loudly enough that one could hear it through the door was part of it.

"And what's the best version of yourself, Rebecca? What makes you feel the best? Or perhaps I should say, what makes you feel good. Very good."

Becca gulped. He couldn't know, could he? "Um, being a good lawyer?"

Selkirk chuckled. "You know, that quiz you sent out was very enlightening. I discovered something about myself. Shall I tell you what it was, before we go back to talking about you?"

"Yes, please."

"I discovered that I really do like helping people be the best version of themselves. That there is nothing more important to me. That, and I think this will resonate with you, that doing that makes me feel good. Very good."

"That's, um, good," Becca said, aware she was sweating, wondering if the sweat was making her blouse more transparent, half hoping it was, half hoping it wasn't.

"Yes. Very good. I also found out that heretofore, I've sucked at it. That did not make me feel good, at all, so I got some expert help. I think everyone will find out that I'm much better at it now. It's my mission in life, more than even the law. Now what about you, Becca? What makes you feel very, very good?"

Becca was frozen, not sure what to say. She knew the answer. But the answer might get her fired.

"Clearly, I have to help," Selkirk said. "You need help with it. That's fine, that's what I'm here for. I'll enjoy helping. Would you like to undo another button on that blouse, Becca? According to my expert, doing so will feel good, very good. And if you do, you'll sink just a little bit deeper into being who you really are, and the deeper you go, the better you'll feel."

Her fingers twitched toward the button, but she somehow couldn't do it. Not in the workplace.

"Unbutton it, Rebecca. That's an order."

"Yes, Sir." She pushed it through the hole, and breathed a sigh of relief as the tension of the blouse gave way and gaped open, fresh air caressing her breasts.

"You'll keep it unbuttoned that way the rest of the day. There are several people on our staff whose best selves, like yours, involve the pursuit of carnal pleasure. If you happen to hook up with them, the supply closet on the east hall isn't too busy, and it's less likely you'll be interrupted. It also has a camera, as one of our employees is a voyeur and will enjoy watching your escapades as much as you'll enjoy knowing you might be watched. Enjoy being a slut, Rebecca."

She blinked. She knew she would. "Um, thank you, Mr. Selkirk. Is there anything I can, um, do for you?"

"What sort of thing, Rebecca. You know it will feel good if you say it out loud."