Tests

Grace looks around and begins to look a little nervous, but then she calms down a bit and asks, "So, did you have something you wanted to talk to me about?"

You stare at the tree trunk for a few seconds, not answering, thinking about whether you really want to do what you're thinking about. You've always tried to be good, but that's rarely worked out for you and you are tempted to see what your questions can do. "Yeah," you say, "I think so."

She looks more worried for a moment, but doesn't move to leave, and instead asks, "And what would it be?"

You look over at Grace and take in her conservative jacket and sweats over her clearly beautiful body, and really note just how perfect her face and the shape of her body truly are. Giving in to your desires, you sigh, glance around once more, and then pull out a clipboard and an unused piece of paper from your bag. After putting the paper on the clipboard without showing her that it's blank, you say, "I have a survey for a psychology class that I need to find some volunteers for. It's just a few questions, some of which are just a little personal, but it will be completely confidential. Would you be willing to help me out?"

Grace looks a little relieved since she thinks that all you want is for her to take a survey, and since she knows she'll be on the bench with you for awhile she says, "Yeah, I can do that since I'll be here anyways. Ask away."

"Great," you reply, "Well then, my first question is this: what do you think is the most important thing for a college to do?"

"Impart useful skills and knowledge."

You write on your paper, then ask, "Are there any stereotypes on your campus or in society that you disagree with, and how would you like these to be combated?"

She thinks for a moment and then replies, "This is stupid, but I hate the blonde stereotype. It's not something that people seem to really think, but it does feel like my gender and appearance makes people assume that I'm dumber or less capable than I am, or at least more feminine. But I'm really an engineer on track for a masters with my bachelors, and I'm not particularly feminine. So that's one thing I don't like I guess."

"Good, interesting," you say, scribbling into your sheet, "thanks for sharing. I do have one more set of questions, but that will be it. How do you feel about how people should dress, and what do you think about sexuality in college?"

Grace looks at you with a slightly perturbed expression, but then haltingly says, "Well, I think that dressing and behaving modestly is a great virtue."

"Thank you," you say, "that was a great help."

"No problem," Grace says, fidgeting and thinking about what she'll do once she gets up.

You take one more look at her, then truly give in and say, "So, with that out of the way, would you rather kiss me or have an orgasm right now?" You wonder if the latter option will work if she chooses it, and your heart starts racing as you anticipate her response.

She physically recoils from you and looks into your eyes, but then says, "I guess I'd rather orgasm." Immediately, she moans and starts grinding her hips into her forearm, a look of bliss and fear mixed into her face. You look on as her body shakes with pleasure, her boobs softly swaying underneath her clothing,your dick hardening even as you register surprise that you can do this too.

As she comes down from the orgasm, you really let yourself wonder what you can do, and decide that you've already come this far so you're going to try out some more depraved things. You look at her, and see her face reddening.

"What the frick," she says under her breath, "how did that happen?"

You just steel your heart, let loose and say, "Would you rather wear the tightest fitting, most revealing, and most of all sexiest clothing you can wear from here on out while flouting your body, or have to act in the sexiest and sluttiest way that you can when interacting with others, including having sex with anyone who seemed interested?"

Grace seemed to have gained some new understanding and fear as you were speaking, bust she still says, "I would rather have to wear the clothes."

Your feel even more pressure in your pants, but you were somewhat expecting that choice. But Grace suddenly grabs scissors from her bag, and you initially jump up and move out of reach. Then she starts to move them towards her legs, and you realize what might be about to happen as your dick twitches. You watch as she cuts the legs of her sweatpants above the seam, leaving a crudely cut area for her legs while not nearly going low enough to cover her ass.

"No, I don't want this," she says quietly. "But I chose." Even as you start to check out her smooth thighs, you see her pull off her jacket, revealing a plain t-shirt underneath. She then cuts off the sleeves and proceeds to cut the bottom of the shirt just below her boobs. Finally, she cuts a giant V in the top of her shirt that shows as much cleavage as she can show and then sits back. It seems like she initially tries to slump back in her seat, but instead she just sighs and sits with her back arched, pushing out her boobs, and her legs slightly spread.

You think about how much you just changed about her and your arousal spikes. You feel like you should leave her, but you decide to press on and ask, "Would you rather speak like a true California blonde bimbo with appropriate gestures or like an incredibly foul mouthed but smart slut with appropriate gestures?"

She looks at you, startled but resigned, and can't help but say, "Like a smart slut."

Before deciding what to do next you feel mischievous and ask, "What do you think about your new look?"

Grace looks at you with profound anger, but then smiles sexily and brings her hands together, outstretched well above her crotch, before saying, "It looks great, I'm a goddamn fuckable slut now," as she pistons her hands up and down in time with her thrusting crotch at the word "fuckable". You chuckle but feel the pressure in your pants truly intensify and wonder whether you should try to revert any of this, leave, or do something else.