Aroshi dressed like a slut

Aroshi stands before you. She's as shocked to see you as you are to see her. Well, you're expecting to see her, just not in this state.

Aroshi, the pretty, sweet, shy, innocent Persian girl stands before you in a tight black dress, strapless, squeezing her lovely tits into lovelier cleavage, short, grabbing her thighs just below her plump Muslim ass. Her hair is done up, with just a few black strands falling into her face. And her face is made up with dark eyeliner and juicy red lipstick. On her legs she wears long black socks that come up just above her knees, and a pair of high heeled shoes.

Who is this? You wonder. Who is this girl who you thought you knew?

"Erin?" She asks, shocked. "What are you doing?"

"What are you doing?" You say, trying to maintain your composure and control of the situation. She needs to be answering the questions, not you. You need to focus on conveying your dominance and not how badly you want to peel that dress off her and take her right there in the doorway. Focus, you tell yourself. Focus.

"I'm... going out." She says in a soft tone. Beneath the whole slutty getup, she's still a sweet, shy girl.

"Going out to get laid?" You ask, accusingly.

Aroshi gulps down an anxious mouthfull of saliva. "That's not really, um, your business."

You smile. "It might be. You don't always go out like this to get laid do you?" You have a good idea what's behind this new change of personality for your little intern.

She averts her eyes. "Well... it doesn't matter..."

You step in close to her. Now there are just inches between your bodies. Your wet pussy. Her eager twat. "Is this my fault? Are you all worked up from our little... encounter earlier today?"

"I.... it..." she licks her lips, nervously. Somehow dressed as a slut she looks both unusual, out of place, and perfectly complete. "If I want to go out and get laid, you shouldn't try to stop me."

Oh, poor thing, you think. She still thinks that embracing her inner slut is something to feel bad about. You know you can help. "Stop you?" You say with surprise. "I want to help you."

"H...help me?"

"Yes..." you look her up and down. Her body is amazing. Her face is so fucking pretty. She could get fucked a dozen times in this outfit tonight. But your goal isn't to get her fucked. Your goal is to enslave her. You have a contest to win. And you have a wet pussy that needs eating. No, you think, this outfit won't do. "... but honey, if you want to get laid, we'll have to do better than this."

Aroshi looks herself up and down. "What's wrong with this?"

"Nothing" you say. "But the question I have to ask is... do you want to work all night to get laid, or do you want to get laid all night long?"

Aroshi gives you a strange look, concern, shyness, slowly morphing, with the help of a little smirk into maybe her first guiltless thought of naughtiness in her life.

"Do you want my help?" You ask

She nods.

And within minutes, you're in her bedroom, in her closet, going through her outfits. Your mind races. Here you are, looking at her clothes. You'd love to smell them, to lick them up and down. You're starting to give into your obsession with this girl.

But there's work to do. "See, your first problem is that skirt is too tight." you say.

"Too tight?" Aroshi answers. "I don't under..."

"Well, you need something loose, and playful, like a cheerleader's skirt. Something that's going to blow in the wind, and when you movie, to show the guys know that you're not wearing any underwear."

"Not wearing any...."

"Of course not. What good is underwear? It's just an impediment to what you want right? Which is tongues, and fingers, and cocks inside your little slit."

Aroshi blushes. "I guess."

You search through her closet for such a skirt. But none exists. So you take a long, conservative skirt and start to tear.

"What are you doing?" She seems shocked.

"Torn clothes is even better. It makes the boys think you can't wait to rip it off you. Now take off that dress and put this on."

And Aroshi does. She unzips her tight short dress and lets it fall before her. And in doing so, exposes her body to you. It's amazing, caramel skin, c-cup tits with big brown nipples, and little white panties covering up a curly black bush.

Your pussy aches. You want her right now. But there's more work to be done. Dammit. So you watch as she slowly puts the newly shortened skirt around her hips, and slides her white panties off from underneath them.

Then you find the right top. It's a little mesh thing, meant for wearing over a sweater. You toss it at her.

"This isn't a top." She says.

"Of course it is. If you don't think it's modest enough, button one of the buttons."

So she does, but it still clasps her torso tightly, and it's still almost entirely transparent. "You can see my breasts in this." She says.

"That's the idea." You answer.

"What if they don't let me into the clubs?"

"Who wouldn't want something that looks like that in their club?"

"I dunno. What if they say I'm not appropriate..."

"Then you get down on your knees and convince them to let you in."

"By begging?"

"No honey, by sucking."

Aroshi's face again is a mix of confused blushing and smirking.

"We're almost done" you say. "You can keep the knee socks. And here, put on this choker."

She does. It compliments her long, thin neck.

"Good. Something that looks like a collar will remind men that you're an animal on the inside."

Aroshi looks at herself in the mirror. She's beyond slutty now. She's a wild woman. Her young tits clearly visible beneath her white mesh top, her hairy pussy easy to see beneath her short skirt. Normally you'd tell her to shave it. But it has sort of a novel Middle-Eastern sensibility to it. The guys who fuck her will be able to tell their friends they came all over a big bushy Muslim tonight.

You picture all the guys who are going to penetrate her tonight. You're jealous. You wonder how quickly she'll embrace her inner slut. You wonder how many guys there'll be. Or girls. No, you think. If she refused you in the copy room, she won't fuck any women tonight, right?

You feel jealous. Of what, you're not even sure. But you know you want her bad.

"You're sure this'll get me laid." Aroshi says, confidently, as if she's never said anything quite like that before. Then again, she probably hasn't.

"I promise."

"How can you be so sure?"

And she's given you an opening. Suddenly you know exactly how to answer.