I'm forced to write down the strange events that happened to me if I don't want them to be forgotten altogether.

With each passing days, chunks of my fuzzy memory seem to disappears.

I remember the first day. This morning, I had the compulsion to check my mails on my phone. I was still in bed, barely awake. The topic on this particular mail was "Coaching Game for Self Improvement".

"Hello miss,

We are going to play a game together. The game starts now and will end in 30 days. You know this is real. You won't tell anyone about this. You won't panic. Every day, I will ask you to tell me how you think you can improve your slutty side. If I consider your answer half-assed, I will answer for you.
You will play the game the best you can.

Please answer: how can you be sluttier?"

I was stunned. Somehow, I knew it wasn't a joke. This guy, whoever he was, could destroy my life.

I didn't know what to type. What was a "slut" ? Someone sleeping around ? I couldn't type that. And he said sluttier, and I had 30 days... Maybe I could alter the way I looked? I could show a little more skin if I had no choice... I guess.

I sent "I will wear mini-skirts.", hoping it'll be enough for him.

He answered: "Wow! Slow down or you'll never make it through 30 days! You could have send "I will wear tighter skirts" or "I will wear knee-length skirts."

I felt stupid. Then, another message:
"As a slut, you only wear skirts with a hemline no longer than halfway up the thighs."

Ok. So what now? I didn't feel any different. Puzzled, I got up and went to my closet. And there, I swear I'm not lying, all my pants, dress, longer skirts were gone. Each and every one were replaced by mini-skirts. The overall style was style the same, the fabrics, the colors... but the longest skirt I had was now mid-thighs !

I went to work with a form fitting brown cotton mini-skirt, with black pantyhose. That was not so bad. I was Sales Deputy Manager at the time, so I could dress pretty much like I wanted. At the office, nothing was different from usual. No comment, no stare!
But, believe it or not, the strangest thkng hasn't occured yet. It was lunch time, and I asked one of my co-worker if she thought my dress was too short. Her answer? She ALWAYS saw me wearing short skirts. Period. Never pants or longer skirt. Somehow, the magic that altered my wardrobe had affected the memories of everyone I knew.
And what about old pictures or videos, you may say? Well... same treatment. In all my pictures I was wearing short skirts.
On one hand, it was making the game easier to play as I didn't have to explain my new atitude to anyone. On the other hand well... It was life changing.
Some new memories appeared... Mixing with my old ones. I remember, every time I rode bicycles, trying my best to not display blatantly my panties. Same challenge when I exit every car. When I drop someting. When going upstairs.
For some past events, I had two different set of memory. In one set, I'm riding horses, rock climbing, doing yoga, etc. In the other, I remembered staying behind, not participating, playing with my phone or chitchatting with some girlfriends. Always wearing mini-skirts.

You may think I should have freaked out, but I couldn't. He made sure of that.

The next morning, I checked my mail again:
"Hello miss. It's the second day. What can you do from today to be sluttier than yesterday?"

This time, I was prepared. I choose something that will be slutty, but would not really affect me:
"I will wear thongs."

"Smart move. As a slut, you wear only sexy thongs."

As I expected, all my panties were now turned into thongs. And new memories came along: thongs bikini at the beach, teasing in locker rooms, access denied in swimming pools... Whatever. That was not life changing.

The next morning was trickier. When the message came, I was still trying to decide on something. A push-up bra ? Changing my hair ? Piercings ? I was going to look ridiculous...

"Day 3. What can you do from today to be a better slut than yesterday?" I went for the shoes.

"I will wear at least 3 inches heels." That was a bit slutty. Every time I'll wear heels, it'll be 3 inches minimum. I gave the height of the heels since I didn't want him to put me on 5 inch heels permanently. 2 inch was not slutty. 4 was too much for me. 3 was perfect. A bit more daring than usual. A bit sluttier than yesterday, I guessed.

He approved... with a twist:
"From now on, you will always wear 3-inch heels or higher."

I got up. I was higher. 3 inch higher. On my feet were 3-inch black strap sandals that I tried to remove immediately. Who goes in bed in high heels?!
I fumbled with the strap and then finally released my right foot. Immediately, I felt emptiness. Sadness. I felt ugly. Something was definitely wrong. I was not in heels ! Heart pounding, I took the sandal back. The bad feelings disappeared as soon as I put my feet back in the heel.

Who wears heels in bed? Me, I guess. All my shoes were now high heeled shoes. Pumps, boots, even my sneakers. I even had special plastic shoes to shower in. I was addicted to wearing high heels. I always wore high heels. Wedge sandals on the beach. High heels sneakers. Even high heels boots in snow. What a joke. You though wearing mini-skirt everyday was bad, try wearing 3 inches heels every waking moment!

I dressed in a black mini-skirt, black pantyhose and a gray sweater. I had to admit, I was good-looking, but not very professional. This time, I think I noticed some of my co-workers eying me, but once again nobody told me anything about my change in look. The day went by.
This evening, I started looking on internet what was considered "slutty", what could I ask to make him happy and get away with it. I googled "slut" and... that was disgusting. I knew porn websites existed, but I never really visited one. I was feeling sick. Did he wanted to turn me into one of those girls?
Still, I noticed that many wore stockings. I guess that men find them slutty. And since it's a piece of lingerie, that will not be a big deal for me, nobody will see it.

"Day 4. What can you do from today to be a better slut than yesterday?
-I will wear stockings.
-From now on, instead of wearing pantyhose or socks, you'll wear stockings."

I didn't had pantyhose or socks anymore. Fishnet stockings, patterned stockings, nylon stockings, seamed stockings; ultra-sheer stockings. I had a hard time finding a black somewhat-opaque stockings, and put on the same skirt as yesterday, with a blouse. In the car, I had a little surprise: the top of my stockings were showing. They wouldn't stay all the way up (even if they were labeled as so!).

I couldn't sit in public all day. I tried to walk as little as possible, I even skipped lunch. I knew what to ask the next day.

"Hello, sexy lady. It's the 5th. What can you do from today to be a better slut than yesterday?
-I will wear garter belt.
-Alright, from now on you'll wear sexy garter-belt with your stockings. Also, you may want to stop focusing on your clothing, or by the 30rd you'll be naked!"

I still had 25 days to go.

When putting my garter-belts on, I really felt like a prostitute. I wore it with a sand-colored mini-skirt, witch turn out to be a bad choice. The straps were somehow visible through the skirt but at least the top of my stockings stayed hidden.

The next day, I asked for longer fingernails.
"From now on, you'll always wear 1/2" fake nails. Sluts are all fake, you know."
They were a LOT longer than I wanted. Like the shoes, I almost had a nervous breakdown when I tried to trim one. Dressing, putting on stockings, doing the house chores, typing on my keyboard, everything became a challenge. I was thinking that sure, this length of nails will take some time to get used to, but at least I wasn't turned into a nymphomaniac. I was winning. And I had a safe idea for the next day.

"Hello, sexy lady. Day 7. What can you do from today to be a better slut than yesterday?
-I will paint my fingernails like one.
-Curious choice of wording. I wonder how a slut paint her fingernails." I panicked. Did I make a mistake ? I was thinking about colors or pattern. Will he ask me to paint my nails while giving a blow job or something ?

"From now on, every day, you'll paint your fingernails in bright colors during 30min in your work time, right after lunch break." I was devastated. Sure, I've always considered the secretaries who painting their nails at work slutty. Now I was going to be like them. Slutty. Vacant. Every day!

That was a nightmare. Granted, at the time, I had my own office... but an office with a glass door. I also now had an entire drawer full of nail polishes, and a compulsion to paint my nails. Some co-workers saw me. Nobody told anything, but I know I was ridiculous.

Coming home that evening, I was almost panicking. While fumbling with those impossible nails to get off my high heels (to change to high heels slippers...), I knew I was losing the game. Even if my mind still was the same, I now looked like a tramp. The next day, I asked for earrings. He gave me big slutty cheap plastic earring loops, in various colors. The day after, after a lot of hesitation, I asked for heavier make up. As a result, I was now spending two hours in the bathroom every day.
Next was the hair. I asked him to be blond, thinking I could still dye it back to brown...
"Blond hair is not something slutty. Let's say... From now on, you'll have mid-back curly fake platinum blond hair."

That was the ice on the cake. I looked like a cheap bimbo. There was no other words. At work, none of my coworkers or the clients told me anything, but I felt like I wasn't taken seriously anymore. I was becoming a joke.

It was day 11. I didn't want to change something in my mind, or in my body yet. I asked for higher heels, and I was stuck in tottering in 5 inch heels minimum. They were horrible to use in the car.

"Hello, tramp. Day 12. What can you do from today to be a better slut than yesterday?" I didn't know what to do. Maybe I could change something in my mind that'll not affect me... Something a slut does, but something that will not change my behavior... Something those disgusting women on the internet seems to enjoy...

I sent "I'll like the taste of semen."

"From now on, cum is by far your favorite food."

Ok. That was not going to change my life. I was still the same person. At lunch, I realized that the food was less tasty. The chocolate that I used to crave was just "ok". I started to wonder more and more how the cum will taste. Like super chocolate?

For day 13, I checked the internet one more time, browsing porn sites, watching porn videos. The cum did look very tasty. I was a bit jealous of the girls.

"Hello, tramp. Day 13. What can you do from today to be a better slut than yesterday?"
-I'll love facials." That was on of the safest slutty act that I had found on the net.
"I see that you have studied. From now on, you'll love getting cum on your face."

I was glad he didn't give me a cum addiction. I was started to understand the rules more and more. The next day, I ask that I'll love giving handjobs.
"From now on, you love giving hand job."

That was weird. My loving things in life were now reading, listening to classical music, Hitchcock movies, facials and giving handjob. I didn't have the NEED to get a facial or give a hand job, but I sure wanted to. It was like to be in the ice cream corner in the supermarket. I wanted to eat one, but I knew it was bad. The only problem was that very guy I met WAS the ice cream corner. I couldn't help but thinking about every guys cock and cum. But I could manage.

That's why on day 15, I asked that I love giving blow jobs. I could manage. That was becoming increasingly difficult, but I could still manage to be next the the ice cream, free chocolate and tasty wine corners all day long.

"Hello, tramp. Day 16. What can you do from today to be a better slut than yesterday?" Day 16. Maybe I could get it through the month in one piece.
"I will masturbate two times more." This way, I was definitely becoming sluttier than yesterday.

His answer startle me :
"It means you'll masturbate 2.5 times a month. That's not something slutty. That's quite the opposite in fact. From now on, you'll masturbate at least every six hours."
4 times a day?! My daily routine became unbearable. I would got up at 6, masturbate in bed or in the shower. Then, I would take care of my hair and make up during one and a half hours. Then, I would go to work, wearing always mini-skirt and ridiculously high heels, craving to give a blow job to every guy I met. At 12 o'clock, I'll go in the bathroom for a quick masturbation session, and after that, go to lunch, to be disappointed at the taste. At 6PM, back in my apartment, another masturbation session, generally while watching porn, girls eating cock and getting facialized, witch was torture for me. Then I would remove my make up, and go to bed, in high heels, for another masturbation session.

In the morning, I was still masturbating while reading his mail:
"Hello, tramp. Day 17. What can you do from today to be a better slut than yesterday?"
I never really liked my breast. Too small, weird shape. I was a small C-cup.
"I will have slightly bigger breast, something along D-cup."

-Having big breasts is not slutty, you know. Or they must be fake. Or gigantic. Well, 600 cc silicone implants for you."
Instantaneously, my breast felt heavier. They were big, round, obviously fake. Fitting my bimbo image. But again, I could live with that. They were not horrible. Maybe a little larger than double D cup. In fact, I was feeling sexier.

I started to wonder if I could use this game at my advantage. I wanted to ask for a flat tummy and perfect toned ass, but I was afraid he was going to give me another implants. Instead, on day 18, I asked for increased self-confidence.

"From now on, you will be be shameless and self-confident.

That was GREAT. At work, I felt powerful and motivated like never before. I wasn't afraid to use my look to help me, showing some stocking here, some cleavage there. I performed better in that day than in any months before.
This day, for the first time of my life, I went to a bar and picked up someone. To celebrate. I just sat, waited a couple of minutes, and this cute guy came to see me. I couldn't resist. He wanted me, I wanted his cock and his cum. Ten minutes later, I was giving him a blow job in the back alley. I can't describe how good his cock was feeling against my throat. It was like scratching a itch I had for days. And then, he came. On my face, like I asked him to do. Every hot drop was giving me a shiver of pleasure. I was in ecstasy. And when I tasted his seed, it was, well, the most delicious thing I ever ate. It was a rich, complex taste, with a pleasing texture.

"Hello, cock-sucking slut. Day 19. What can you do from today to be a better slut than yesterday?"
I was masturbating, still thinking about yesterday. Definitely, this night, I will find another guy.

What other benefit could I get from this game? I didn't had time to think. I asked for fuller lips. As expected, he gave me cock sucking collagen lips, but I didn't care. It was not so bad. This day, I was meeting a big client who was working with a rival company for years. I put on 5 inch peep-toe pumps, seamed stockings, a white tight miniskirt almost see though and a low cut blouse. I told him that I could help him with his raging hard-on. Ten minute later, I was in paradise, eating the cum that was covering me everywhere. The flavor was different. It still was the delicious thing in the world, in another flavor. That was crazy, a new world of delight was opening to me, I wanted to know all this different flavors, I wanted to taste more men. Why not?

I also won the contract.

This night, I returned to the bar.

The next morning, still wearing my cum stained clothes (they smelled so good!), I got the usual mail. Day 20.
I guess I was horny, cause I typed :
"I will love to fuck."

This day, I couldn't wait to get fucked. The first client was a fat arrogant prick, a pain in the ass and rather cheapskate. I fucked him like a madwoman. I fucked three different persons this day, and masturbated between each one.

"Day 21. What can you do from today to be a better slut than yesterday?" Only 9 days left. I knew was becoming more and more slutty lately, so I tried to restrain myself. I asked that from now on, I would talk dirty during sex. On day 22, I asked for a sexier voice.
"From now on, you'll sound like an horny teasing teenager from a porn flix."

On day 23, I asked for a tongue piercing. Then, the 24th, for a navel piercing. The 25th was the stamp tramp. The next day, I asked to be more knowledgeable about pleasing a man. On day 27, I decided to try something.

"I will use my body to successfully progress in my career." I was already sleeping with most of my clients anyways. I went straight to the boss. He knew why I was so successful lately. I was soon head boobing up and down his shaft, before getting bend over the desk, begging him to "ram his cock in my dirty cunt" then facialized.

The 28th, I had a promotion. My income almost doubled in size. I was used daily by the boss, clients, and even various coworkers. I became the office slut.

"Day 29. What can you do from today to be a better slut than yesterday?"
I didn't get his mail this morning. I was busy fucking the stud I brought home last night.

"You didn't answer. Let's say, event bigger and more sensitive tits."

I didn't answer the next day either. I think he increased my libido or something, but since I was fucking or masturbating all the time, I failed to notice.

And the next morning, the 30 days were over. I celebrate by sucking the cock of one of my guest while the other was getting ready to fuck me in the ass. The game was hard, but in the end it got me a better job, a sexier body, a more enjoyable life. Like always, I managed to turn the tables and win.