Slut Class Ch. 02 - Dress for Sexcess

Karen Taylor, a student at Maplewood College, a small liberal arts college, looked at her outfit in the mirror. She thought she had done pretty well. She hoped Dr. Love would be pleased, even though she fantasized about the teacher being very displeased indeed. Had she mistaken the look in the professor's eyes when she had admitted she had a fantasy about being spanked in public? She knew she was inclined to wishful thinking.

It was the second day for Gender Studies 107: Subverting Regressive Paradigms, better known as the slut class, and today's assignment was to come to class dressed as a slut. Karen was sure that for lots of girls that would mean deep cleavage, but she wasn't exactly big up top. She thought she had a winning smile, she was slender, and she'd been dyeing her hair blonde since her Sophomore year in High School. She took advantage of what nature gave her, or hadn't. She didn't have to wear a bra. Her nipples poked against her pink halter top. She'd rolled up her shorts, which were in a slightly darker shade of pink than her top, so that every inch of leg was shown and you could almost see the bottom curve of her ass. Normally she'd wear tennis shoes with such an outfit, but she'd gone shoe shopping and had on pink sandals with a three-inch heel. Trashy, but at least I match.

For the walk to class, however, she slipped off the heels and put on the sneakers. She rolled the shorts back down. She still attracted some looks as she crossed the quad, and she got to class five minutes early.

Dr. Nikki Love was outside class, next to the door. She stood in hooker pose, one foot propped against the wall, and her presence alone had attracted a number of onlookers. Wearing a corset that made her large boobs look even bigger, a short leather skirt, four-inch heels, and fishnet stay-ups whose lace tops left several inches of skin between hem and stocking.

If that's the standard, I'm going to have a tough time, thought Karen. She popped into the ladies room to put on her heels and roll up her shorts, and then slipped back out. She liked being noticed, but she didn't want to be too noticed. The stares she'd gotten as she walked to class had both excited and unnerved her, and she knew the excitement only made her nipples harder and more prominent. It was a small school, and people would talk. There were twenty students in the slut class, and only a thousand or so at the school. Gossip traveled fast. There was a crowd pretending not to ogle Dr. Love, and they stayed as the students trickled into class. Karen joined the crowd, getting a few stray glances.

Pink-haired Stella sauntered by wearing even less than the teacher, her belly ring catching the light as she walked. She had on a mini-skirt, a black bra, and a crop top that would have exposed some underboob if it weren't for the bra. Flora, who Karen was sure would drop, showed up wearing a short cocktail dress, with a v-neck deep enough to make it clear she too hadn't bothered with a bra, and heels. She had her nose turned up and was studiously avoiding making eye contact with anyone. Rachida wore a gold shoulderless mini-dress that snugly fit her curvy figure and made the most of her full ass.

I think I might be outclassed.

Then Abigail showed up. She, too, Karen had expected would drop. Abigail had gone with the schoolgirl look—plaid skirt, black patent shoes, white ankle socks, and a thin white button-down shirt. But the skirt wasn't very short, and the shirt's translucence only revealed that she was wearing a fully covering white bra. Pervs with a schoolgirl fetish might dig that look, but it's hardly slutty.

There was a man dressed in a suit, about thirty years old, who looked like that kind of perv. He had a book in his hand, and was trying to chat the girls up as they approached the door, but none of them talked back.

Karen shrugged and walked into class. She was sure word had gotten out that this was the slut class. No doubt some of the people outside were mentally cataloging the people who went in it.

"Hell is real, and Jesus is the answer," said the man with the book as she passed by.

It had been tough going for traditional religions since the foundation of the Church of Gaea. The Church offered real, verifiable miracles; the church's acolytes could heal any communicable disease with sex or even a blowjob. They didn't place any demands of abstinence on their followers, and "Hell" for the Gaeans was global climate change. Karen had attended a few services herself, and imagined saying something witty like "Hell is real, and less plastic is the answer," just a few steps too late.

"Nice, Karen," Nikki Love said as Karen passed.

"Thank you Ma'am," Karen said. She glanced around at her fellow classmates, and then took a seat.

At three after ten, Nikki entered the classroom herself, and locked the door behind her. She walked to the front of the class, and asked, "So, would anyone like to talk about how walking to class made you feel?"

Flora's hand shot up. Flora was the type of person whose hand always shot up.

"Flora?" asked Nikki.

"I felt like everyone was staring at me. And talking about me."

"Sure," said Nikki, "and how did that make you feel?"

"Violated."

"Because people were looking at you?"

"As if my body was for their entertainment," Flora explained. "Rather than being mine, people were acting like it was theirs."

"Your feelings are valid, of course, but how did you know what they were thinking?"

Flora looked at a loss for words for a moment. "I don't. I just felt that was what they were thinking."

"I'm thinking they were thinking 'that's one hot chick' said Stella. "I know that's what I was thinking." She grinned over at Flora, and then, quite deliberately, raked her slowly from head to toe with her gaze.

"You're as bad as the men," said Flora.

"Men aren't so bad," Stella said. "I also felt that people were staring. In fact, I know people were, because when I caught them I gave them a little wink."

Nikki smiled. "Why don't you come up here and demonstrate that wink for the class."

Stella walked up with a little more bounce in her step than necessary, making her boobs bounce and her crop top bounce higher, and winked at the class.

"You'll all have a chance to rate the outfits later in the day, but Stella's getting an A from me," said Nikki. "Attitude is an important part of a slut's outfit, and Stella has it down. We'll have a whole class on that later, though—today's assignment was just to dress provocatively. Thank you Stella, you may go back to your seat."

Stella sashayed back, and Nikki pointed at Rachida and another girl, Valerie, a zaftig brunette with short hair. "Valerie and Rachida, you both chose very striking lipstick to go with your outfits." Rachida's was a deep purple, and Valerie's was a cherry red. "Why was that?"

Rachida shrugged. "That's what's sexy."

Valerie nodded. "It makes people look at your lips and think about kissing."

"Because men like it and the patriarchy dictates what people think is sexy," said Flora, who had worn a dark shade of lipstick herself, if not as intense as Rachida's or Valerie's. Karen had chosen pink lipstick, to go with her outfit. Had that been a mistake? She didn't think so. She thought her lipstick would make people think about kissing, too.

"Anyone else?" asked Nikki.

No one answered.

"A lot of what we think of is sexy is indeed a result of our culture, and it can be arbitrary. High heels were originally invented to make men taller and their legs shapelier, and yet they are now worn almost exclusively by women. They still make men taller, and they still do nice things for their legs, but it's considered unmasculine to wear them. But sometimes these things have some basis, too. One theory about lipstick is that it makes the contrast between mouth and face imitate the contrast between the vulva and the lighter skin around it, turning the mouth into a more sexual part of the body."

"Blowjobs," said Stella. Flora made a face.

"Sure," agreed Nikki. "But also cunnilingus, or kissing anywhere on the body, including, as Valerie said, the mouth. How many of you have kissed a parent, or an aunt, or someone else, completely non-sexually?"

Most of the class raised their hands.

"So kissing isn't inherently sexual. But it can be very intimate and intensely sexual. It depends on context. And lipstick might be part of the way we make context, whether it's an arbitrary cultural thing or it has something to do with our vulvas. Either way, lips are part of your sexual arsenal."

"Anyone else?"

Abigail shakily lifted her hand.

"Yes, Abigail?"

"I felt like a mouse." She looked like one, too, ready to curl up into a ball or run and hide. Karen suppressed a giggle and felt bad about it. Several people laughed, and Abigail looked like she was on the edge of tears.

"You are not a mouse, Abby," Nikki said firmly. "I will work with you, and I have office hours." She turned and wrote them up on the board, before turning back. Abigail looked a little calmer. "We are here to support each other, not to bring each other down. I will not tell you, Abby, that your outfit will get a good grade today. I do think you can get an A in this class, in fact, you will get an A in this class if you're willing to work at it."

Abigail nodded.

"We all want to help our fellow women become more sexually assertive and open, right?"

There were several nods.

"I have a video for you to watch. It lasts about ten minutes. It will be tempting to look at the hot young women in the video, but instead I want you to look at everyone else." She pressed a button to make a screen descend, flicked a switch to dim the lights, and then hit play on the remote on her desk.

The picture shown was the hallway just before class. The camera must have been right over Nikki's head. For ten minutes the girls watched themselves being watched. Heads turned as they went by. Karen was surprised at how many people were staring at her and grinning. She attracted nearly as much attention as Stella.

When the video stopped, Nikki turned the lights on and spoke. "You made those heads turn. Your bodies, and the way you dress, has power to grab attention. You can control that narrative—not absolutely, I'm not saying you're going to make a gay guy jump the fence if you just wear a short enough skirt, and god knows I'm not saying you're responsible if someone assaults you. But you have a lot of influence, and I bet you made people happy and horny today. You saw both men and women looking. They enjoyed the view. Some of those women will feel empowered to wear what makes them feel powerful tomorrow—instead of what makes them feel disempowered."

"Mousy," said Karen, and then realized she had used the same word Abigail had.

"That was unkind," Nikki said. "We lift each other up, remember."

"Yes. So people can look up our skirts," Stella said, causing most of the class to laugh and a few to glare.

"I'm sorry," Karen said, and before she could help herself added, "Maybe I should be punished."

Nikki fixed Karen with a long stare as the corners of her mouth slowly turned up into an evil smile.

Uh-oh.

"Would you accept whatever punishment I deem appropriate? We are about consent here, after all."

Karen hesitated. Nikki wouldn't really spank her in front of class, would she? Would she get a lower grade if she didn't agree? She didn't think so. Surely it was safe to say no. But she didn't. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Very well," said Nikki. "I'm going to ask for people to volunteer to do things, but for you, Karen, they are mandatory. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said Karen. No spanking then. Sigh.

"Getting your fantasy to be spanked in front of everyone isn't a punishment, Karen. It's a reward."

Karen blushed.

Nikki grinned at her. "And if you behave, some class I'll do exactly that. Now then." She turned to the remote again, and put a new picture on the screen. It was of a movie theater, taken from the front, showing dozens of people intently watching. "It's just us in here, of course, but this picture should help you imagine that people are watching. We talked about how lips could be made more sexual, but this class is really about making brains more sexual, and our imagination is part of that. Who here enjoyed being watched?"

Several hands went up, including Rachida's, Stella's, and Karen's.

"Now, strictly voluntary for all but one of you, but if you would like, stand up and slowly take your top off, or your dress off if you wore a dress, while staring back at the screen and imagining all these people watching you."

Nobody budged. All eyes were on Karen.

"I'm not wearing a bra." Karen hoped that would get her out of it.

"I think we all can tell that," Nikki said.

Karen slowly got to her feet. "Um... no one want to do this with me?" Karen asked.

For a moment, no one budged. Then Flora got up, to her surprise. "I've got you, Karen. I'm not wearing a bra either. On the count of three?"

Karen nodded thankfully.

"I'm in," said Stella, who stood up too.

"One," said Flora. "Two."

On three, Flora took her dress off, revealing black granny panties and full breasts with dark nipples. Karen removed her pink top, showing off her small perky tits, flat stomach, and narrow waist. Stella revealed that her bra was lacy and transparent.

"You will note that no one died or passed out by showing off their nipples, or by seeing them," said Nikki. "We've created this arbitrary line about nipples—show all the cleavage you want, but not that. But they are part of what makes breasts sexy. Congratulations, you three, by the way. You've guaranteed yourselves an A on this assignment."

Abigail lifted her hand.

"Yes Abby?" Nikki asked.

"What would I have to do to raise my grade? I'll, um, take my shirt off if that helps."

Nikki smiled. "You'll notice that often volunteering will raise your grade on an assignment, but I'll never tell you that beforehand, and sometimes it won't. I don't want anyone thinking 'I'm just doing this thing for the grade.' I want you to learn to want to do things. So I'm afraid the moment has passed, Abby. But... if you improved your outfit, then your outfit might get a better grade from your fellow students."

Abby unbuttoned a button on her blouse, and then seemed to realize all eyes were on her and stopped.

"I don't want to embarrass you, Abby," Nikki said. "It's just one grade in one session. There will be others. Let's move on. I have another video to watch you. This one is of me, actually, walking down a street in New York City, and I want to see what reactions it evokes in you. You may sit down, sluts."

Karen felt sorry for Abby -- Abigail. Even her name was a bit dreary, and maybe the teacher had started calling her Abby to change her perspective on herself. People might look at Nikki Love and think bimbo, but clearly the teacher was smart and understood people. When Flora challenged her, Nikki had all the answers ready.

Flora opened her mouth. She probably wants to protest being called a slut. But she sat down, and Nikki dimmed the lights and started the video. The video showed Nikki walking down a street wearing a white blouse, a black bra, a short skirt, and heels. Sometimes it focused on her front, other times on her ass, and still other times on the onlookers who turned to watch. Flora quickly put her dress back on, and Karen wondered if she was allowed to put her shirt back on, when she had an idea.

All eyes were fixed on the screen as Karen slipped out of her seat to go crouch next to Abigail. The other girl leaned away from her, as if afraid Karen was going to say something mean.

"You want to wear my shirt?" Karen whispered. "We could change in the back." Abigail was about her size, even if differently proportioned.

Abigail hesitated, glancing up at the screen. In the video, Nikki was unbuttoning her blouse to display more and more as she walked around Manhattan.

"Is this a trick?" Abigail asked.

Karen shook her head. "No. I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it that way. I want to make it up to you. Friends?"

Abigail slowly nodded. She reached out to take Karen's proffered hand.

"Let's go to the back so we don't disturb class. And so no one can watch."

Abigail followed her back. She took off her shirt, still watching the screen. She reached for the halter.

"Bra too," said Karen. "It'll look so much better."

"My boobs are bigger than yours," said Abigail.

"Um, thanks?" Karen said. "That just means it will look even better on you.

Abigail turned her back to class, and reached behind her for the bra snaps. Karen turned to give her some privacy, and watched as Nikki performed the same operation, but in the middle of Fifth Avenue. Large tits swaying, bra dangling off her fingers, the woman sauntered around as if nothing was out of the ordinary, although of course almost everyone was turning around to look.

Abigail took the top from Karen and put it on. Karen looked. The other girl did have more up top, so her nipples pressed even more prominently against the fabric than Karen's had, and there was more cleavage.

"Shall we switch bottoms too?" asked Karen. "I think they'd match better."

Abigail hesitated, but nodded. Karen quickly stripped out of her shorts, and Abigail from her skirt. Karen was wearing a thong, for no panty lines, and Abigail was wearing floral bikini panties, but Karen really didn't think she could talk the girl into going commando. Karen put on Abigail's skirt as Abigail struggled into the shorts. They were a tight fit.

"We better get back to our seats," said Abigail.

Karen nodded. As the other girl headed back, she noticed that the shorts bared about a half-inch of her ass cheeks.. She looks hot. Mission accomplished. They got back to their seats just as the video ended and the lights came back on.

"One of the goals of this class is to make you all as comfortable with your body, and with other people seeing it, as I am in that video," said Nikki. "Today is just the first small step. Abby, you look downright hot in that outfit. Thank you Karen -- I think you've redeemed yourself. I'm going to pass out forms, and I want you to grade and comment on everyone's outfits. You're not going to be rating their bodies, just what they've done in terms of presentation. All body types are beautiful." She handed a stack of papers to the left most person in each row as she worked her way to the back. "I'll call on each of you, and you'll stand up, turn so everyone can see every side of you, and then sit down."

"Better not put that blouse on," Stella said to Karen.

"Everybody's seen it all anyway," Karen said with more nonchalance than she felt. She just wanted to make sure that Nikki thought she was a good girl. Or a very bad one that needed to be spanked.

"I'll go alphabetically," said Nikki. "Abby?"

It wasn't the most graceful twirl ever, and Abby was shaking, but she smiled when she sat back down. She had heard the appreciative murmurs. Karen rated her an A. Flora got up and twirled somewhat perfunctorily when it was her turn. Karen, eager for Nikki's approval, tried to make the skirt fly up as she twirled. Stella, naturally, was a total ham as she winked at the class. By the time all the girls had gone and handed in their rating sheets, class was over.

"See you next week," Nikki said, "and 'improper' dress is expected every time in this class!"

Karen looked for Abby, no longer thinking of the sexy girl as Abigail. She wanted her clothes back and the next class would soon be coming in. But Abby was going up to talk to the teacher. Karen put on Abby's shirt hastily, although she knew that people could still see her tits through the thin white fabric.