"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," Madison said as she sat down on the bed. She looked at Dan, awaiting his reply.
"You know, you don't have to - I mean - no one is putting you up to this but you. It was your idea anyway."
"Yeah, I know," she replied. It was the second day of January, and she had just come back into town after being away visiting her family over the holidays. And now, as she had been planning, it was time to rid herself of any modest clothing. She had planned it for weeks, buying a few sexy and revealing items and wondering what her life would be like.
"It's just - you know. Going to class every single day with my midriff exposed, bellybutton out, cleavage..." she trailed off, imagining waking up in the morning and going through her closet, only to find that every single top inside bared her stomach. She imagined wanting to dress more modestly, but not having a choice, reluctantly selecting a top that was perhaps less revealing than the others, but still knowing that she was going to class looking like a whore.
"Yeah, but this is what you wanted, isn't it?"
Madison bit her lip and nodded. "Not just wanted, needed, I need to - I guess, to - make sure I always feel like - like a slut. I know I need it. My pussy craves it, I just can't stop myself." Madison looked over at the camera recording her, then back to Dan.
"So, you - you said you had some rules you were going to follow?"
"Yep. So - the first rule is - umm - my stomach. It needs to be exposed every day, 24/7. And not just like a peek. Exposed enough that it counts. So, like - at a minimum, if I put my fingers together like this," she said, holding her hand so that her index finger through her pinkie were closed together and her thumb stuck out as far as it could, "when I touch my stomach with these four fingers, they all have to touch skin. So at least four fingers of my - my stomach, on display, every day." Madison inhaled and exhaled nervously as she looked at the camera.
"And what are you going to do with the tops you have that don't - you know, ones that are too long?"
"I - well - I have to either cut them so they follow the rule, or I'm going to get rid of them - donate them. So I won't have any choice."
"What about dresses?"
"I don't wear that many, but - the ones that - you know, sentimental ones, prom dresses, formal gowns, I have a couple - those are all at my parents' house. Not like I would wear those on a walk to class anyway, but they're effectively gone. And the rest? I have to either cut them into a crop top and skirt, or cut out big holes in them to expose my stomach and probably my sides and back, like - there would just be little strips holding the top and bottom parts together."
"So every top gets a score, one, two or three. And the one point tops are ones where i can barely put four fingers on bare skin."
"And the two point tops?" Dan asked.
"Those show a little more. So ones where maybe if I put two hands on my stomach, somewhere between five and eight fingers worth of skin exposed."
"And three points?"
"Those are the more, you know - extreme ones - ones that I can put eight fingers next to each other on bare skin up and down my stomach. Some of them are short enough my bra comes out when I raise my arms. A lot of them barely cover my tits - or, that's the goal, anyway."
"And why do the points matter?"
"I can only wear two one point tops a week, Monday through Friday. And one day, Monday through Friday, I have to wear a three point top each week. It's basically to force me to show off more around campus and stuff. So if I have a big presentation, or my parents come to town, you know - I'm probably going to want to save the one points for those days."
"What if you had three big presentations in a week?"
"I guess I'd have to wear a two point top to one of them," she said, smiling.
"And what's the point of all this?"
"I want to - I guess, to - make myself look like a whore, so I always get stared at, I feel used, like a slut. A piece of meat. I want to not have a choice anymore."
"Wow, you fucking slut," Dan remarked. Madison smiled. "What about bottoms?" He asked.
"Well, I - so - first of all, no shorts that come down below my thumb," she said, placing her arms to her sides. "No skirts longer than the ends of my fingers."
"It's like the high school dress code but in reverse!" Dan said with a laugh.
"Yeah, kind of," Madison admitted. "If it was modest enough for high school it's definitely too modest for the slut I'm turning into."
"And pants?"
"Pants only if the temperature is fifty or below," she said. "Same with jeans. And - oh, nothing covering up my bellybutton. Pants - like yoga pants - have to be at least three fingers under my bellybutton."
"And what if you have an interview or something?"
"Interviews, awards, stuff like that - I can buy a new, modest outfit for it but I have to get rid of it immediately after. And I have to have a plug up my ass to remind me I'm a slut."
"I can just imagine you now, sitting in an interview with a plug up your ass, feeling like you need to strip down because you aren't used to wearing that much."
"Yeah," said Madison, laughing. "I guess I'm going to get used to dressing like a slut, won't I?"
"So, what's the plan for cold weather? I mean, it's January now - will you be able to wear jackets, coats, warm yourself up? Or just freeze your ass off in half a shirt all winter?" Dan asked.
"Well, I - honestly, I thought about it. And it's not that I don't want to do that because I'm afraid of what people will think. I'm really beyond that, you know? Beyond being - like, I can't - I'm a slut. I don't deserve to care if people think I'm a slut. You know? It's going to feel humiliating, it's supposed to, and that's good. It's what I want. It's what I deserve, really. And it really turns me on. But it's just - do I really want to freeze my ass off all winter just to prove I'm a slut? So I've decided I can wear jackets and coats when it's below 55 degrees. And only outside, the minute I come in I have to remove it. And I can't zip or button them, so my belly is going to be out all the time."
"Anything else?"
"Yeah, so - when it's below freezing I can wear long coats, unzipped of course. But if it's above freezing I have to wear little cropped jackets that are a little too small, so I couldn't zip or button them even if I wanted to."
"Sounds like a plan."
"Yeah. I mean, the whole idea, and what I'm going for, is that I won't be able to cover up. Won't ever be able to fully cover my stomach, and in fact, most of the shirts I will have to wear will be so short it will be obvious - or at least seem like - I want to show it off, want to be looked at, stared at, catcalled."
"What are your professors and classmates going to think?"
"Probably there same thing everybody else will. That I'm a slut. That I want to be stared at. That I want to get fucked, used. Forced into sex. That I'm a whore. That I'm easy. That I'm showing off my body on purpose, that I'm stupid for dressing like that. Hopefully they'll even think I'm just such a horny slut I can't let myself cover up. That sort of thing."
Madison stood up and stripped down to her bra and panties as Dan asked her one more question.
"Any more rules?"
"Just that - I can't wear panties with skirts or dresses. And I have to have the word slut written somewhere on my body at all times."
"And why is that?"
"Two reasons, really. First, I need to remind myself of what I am. Even if it's totally covered, I will know it's there. And second - every time decide to fuck somebody it will be there the minute I take my clothes off, and if they didn't know it already, they'll know what I am when they see it. Hopefully they use me hard," she said, licking her lips when she finished speaking.
Now down to her bra and panties, Madison turned her attention to her closet. She first pulled out a long knit sweater.
"So, um - if you break a rule - like, say you forget to write slut on your body one day. Or you wear panties with a skirt. Or you wear jeans or a coat when it's too warm. What happens?"
"I hadn't really thought about that," Madison admitted.
"I think you should be punished for that, don't you?"
"Yeah - yeah, I really should. But it would have to be something, like - something I truly wouldn't enjoy. You know? Like - something I wouldn't fantasize about, even at my horniest."
"Yeah. Such as?"
"Like - maybe if I forget to write slut on myself, I have to write it in big letters where everyone can see it and walk around campus for an hour or something."
"Good. Although I think you might enjoy that, don't you?"
"I don't know, maybe. But of all the crimes you mentioned, so to speak, that is probably the mildest, so maybe the punishment should be, too?"
"Gotcha. And what if you - what if you wear panties with a skirt? Or button your jacket? Or wear a coat when it's too warm?"
"I don't know. Something really humiliating. Make sure I don't forget, you know. Something so disgusting even I would find it horrible."
"And what would that be?"
"I don't know."
"How about this - are you into drinking piss, or being pissed on?"
"Eww! No!"
"Perfect. If you do any of those things, you'll drink a cup - eight ounces - of your own piss. And make a video of it and explain why you're being punished. Sound good?"
"Sounds disgusting," Madison admitted. "Sure, I think that would work."
"And if you break down and buy or borrow something to cover up in a moment of weakness - what then?"
"Hmm. I really don't think I will, Dan."
"But you need to have a punishment set up in advance, I think, to keep you from being tempted. Don't you agree?"
"Yeah, probably."
"So how about this - if you break the rule saying what you can wear...hmm. You could go whore yourself out to a complete stranger for ten dollars. Or you could go to a gloryhole and suck bare dick for two hours. Or you could piss in your toilet, drink a cup of the piss water, and then scrub it clean with your tongue. Or maybe be chained or tied up and kept in a closet for 24 solid hours, naked, with nothing but water every six hours and without being allowed out to pee or eat."
