Phase Four — Day 10

The Sexy Outfit Rule

The book’s new passage was blunt, almost commanding:

Now that you have gotten accustomed to some of the basics, it is time for a lesson in attire. Outfits are not just fabric — they are statements. The first category you must master is “Sexy.”

Sexy attire rules:

Outerwear: Dresses, skirts, or shorts that stop mid-thigh or higher. Tight pants permitted only if paired with a shirt that doesn’t cover your ass. Acceptable tops: crop tops, tanks, bodysuits, or thin sweaters without undershirts.

Stockings: Knee or thigh-highs may be worn with skirts.

Footwear: 3″ heels or higher. Stilettos preferred.

Underwear: Push-up or padded bras; thongs or g-strings only.

Makeup: Full face when out — foundation, concealer, blush, eye shadow, mascara, and red or pink lipstick. At the gym: foundation, mascara, and lipstick at minimum.

Then came the tasks, the page heavy with expectation:

Wear 3+ inch stilettos whenever away from home.

Wear pink or red lipstick, mascara, and eye shadow at all times outside your dorm.

Play with yourself for 15 minutes after waking and before bed. Do not climax in the morning. Stay aching.

Wear a push-up or padded bra and thong whenever away from home.

Complete a 30-minute cardio workout.

When away from home and not working out, wear a ‘sexy’  outfit.

Beneath the list, the words pulsed in Lily’s mind like gospel: A sexy siren is a happy siren.

Morning sunlight streamed across the dorm, catching on the underlined lines of the book. Lily sat at the edge of her bed, heart fluttering as she read the rule again: When away from home, you will wear a Sexy outfit.

Her closet looked different to her now. The hoodies and loose jeans she’d once reached for without thought seemed dull, irrelevant. Her hand brushed past them and stopped on the red skirt she’d bought at the mall. She tugged it free, the fabric smooth and daring, and stepped into it slowly. It clung to her hips and stopped high on her thighs, higher than she would have ever dared just two weeks ago.

For her top, she chose a cropped white blouse, its buttons straining faintly against her push-up bra. She studied herself in the mirror as she fastened pearl studs to her ears, slipped into her nude stilettos, and leaned closer to paint her lips in vivid red. Mascara darkened her lashes; eyeshadow gave her gaze depth.

The woman staring back at her didn’t look like the Lily from before. She looked taller, sharper, magnetic.

The book told me to do this, she thought, her lips curling faintly. But I look even better than it imagined.

The air outside was crisp, cool enough that Lily’s bare thighs prickled under the hem of her red skirt, but it didn’t slow her stride. Her nude stilettos clicked in even rhythm across the pavement, each step carrying more certainty than the last. The cropped white blouse hugged her chest snugly, the push-up bra beneath lifting her curves, and the red lipstick she had applied with precision that morning still gleamed under the morning sun.

As she crossed the quad, she felt eyes on her. Groups of students paused mid-conversation; one boy with a backpack slung lazily over one shoulder followed her with his gaze until she turned the corner. For the first time, Lily didn’t shrink from it. She let her shoulders square, chin tip higher, savoring the quiet ripple her presence created.

By the time she slid into her seat near the front of the lecture hall, her pulse wasn’t nervous but electric. She crossed her legs, and the red skirt climbed another inch up her thighs. She caught the subtle shift around her — conversations stilled for a beat, papers shuffled a little slower, and when the professor looked up mid-sentence, his eyes darted toward her before flicking back too quickly to the slides. That flicker alone made her lips curl faintly. Even he noticed.

The girl beside her leaned in as students began to pack up, her voice soft but tinged with curiosity. She was petite, dressed in a loose hoodie and jeans, curls spilling from beneath the hood of her sweatshirt. Round glasses framed wide brown eyes that darted quickly between Lily’s outfit and her face.

“That skirt is really cute,” she said, almost shyly, though the sincerity was clear. “Wish I could pull that off.”

Warmth rushed through Lily’s chest, but instead of the automatic deflection she might have given weeks ago, she turned fully toward the girl, lips curving. “You could,” she said simply, voice low, assured. “You just have to want to.”

The girl’s cheeks flamed pink at the response, and she let out a quick, nervous laugh. She ducked her head as though embarrassed by her own boldness, but Lily saw the way her smile lingered even as she stuffed her notebook into her bag.

Lily rose gracefully, heels snapping smartly against the tile floor as she walked toward the exit. The professor’s eyes trailed after her for half a second too long. Behind her, she heard the girl still chuckling softly, the compliment echoing between them like a shared secret.

The book had promised she would turn heads, but it hadn’t told her how much more satisfying it would be to leave other women blushing in her wake.

The dorm was quiet when Lily returned, the halls dimmer now, the noise of campus muted by closed doors. Her heels clicked softly on the linoleum before she slipped inside their shared room. Kate was at her desk, laptop open, a highlighter dangling idly between her fingers. The glow from the screen painted her features gold as she looked up.

Her eyes lingered a beat longer than usual before she smiled. “You really committed today.”

Lily set her tote down on the bed, perching on the edge as she slipped one heel free with a graceful twist of her ankle. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror across the room — lipstick still intact, blouse pulled just taut enough across her chest, the skirt riding high even as she sat. “The book told me to.”

Kate let out a soft laugh, leaning back in her chair. “Well, whatever it’s telling you, it’s working.” She gestured vaguely toward Lily with the end of her highlighter. “People notice, Lil. You don’t just walk into a room anymore — you change it.”

Heat bloomed low in Lily’s chest, her hand pausing on the strap of her other heel. She tried to play it off with a shrug, but her lips betrayed her, twitching upward. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Kate grinned, resting her chin on her palm now, watching her like she was studying a different species. “I walked past three guys in the hall earlier who were still talking about you. And don’t get me started on the way you strut across campus — you’ve got this whole… movie-star energy. It’s wild.”

Lily rolled her eyes lightly, but the words rooted deep. She turned back to the mirror, sliding the second heel off, letting her bare feet sink into the carpet. For a moment she just looked — the faint smudge of mascara under her eyes, the gloss still clinging to her lips, the glimmer of confidence she hadn’t seen in her reflection a month ago.

Kate turned back to her laptop, typing again, but her voice drifted lazily over her shoulder. “Seriously, though. I don’t know what that book’s doing to you, but you’re glowing. Like, happy glowing. And it suits you.”

Lily stretched out on her bed, tugging her skirt a little lower as she reclined against the pillows. The compliment from the girl in lecture, the professor’s glance, the boy on the bench, and now Kate’s words — they layered over each other until her chest felt too tight with satisfaction.

She smiled faintly into the darkened ceiling. She had worn the book’s rules like armor today, and instead of weighing her down, they had made her unstoppable.

Day 11 – Another Step Further

Morning light filtered weakly through the blinds, painting pale stripes across Lily’s desk. The book lay open, its ink sharp in the glow. Yesterday it had demanded Sexy. Today, Lily wanted more.

She stood in front of her closet, fingers brushing past blouses and skirts until they landed on the dress she had been saving — tight, black, sleeveless, its hem cut daringly high. The fabric clung as she tugged it down, molding to every curve, pulling her chest higher against the lift of her bra. She slipped into her strappy red stilettos, their patent gleam catching the light, and rose taller, her legs impossibly long in the mirror’s frame.

Foundation blurred her skin into porcelain; blush brought warmth to her cheeks. She deepened her eyes with smoky shadow, lashes thick with mascara. Last came lipstick — a crimson to match her heels. When she stepped back, she barely recognized herself. The woman in the mirror wasn’t “playing sexy.” She was sexy.

Her breath caught in her throat. This isn’t just Sexy. This is daring.

Behind her, Kate looked up from where she sat surrounded by open textbooks. Her messy bun drooped to one side, highlighter cap between her teeth, but her expression sharpened instantly.

“Okay… wow,” she said, dropping the cap. “You’re seriously going all in.”

Lily turned with a small twirl, the hem shifting dangerously high. “Too much?”

Kate shook her head, eyes widening as she scanned her from heels to neckline. “Not too much. Just… like you’ve already leveled up. Like you skipped ahead.”

Lily’s lips curved as she turned back to the mirror. The book didn’t tell me to skip ahead. But maybe I’m proving I can outpace it.

Later that afternoon, Lily crossed campus with her gym tote, red heels striking against the pavement. Heads turned as usual, but she barely noticed anymore — the rhythm of her steps had become its own shield. When she stepped through the gym’s glass doors, the shift in air hit her immediately: cooler, sharper, full of sweat and iron.

And there he was.

Mark.

Messy brown hair, damp with effort. Gray T-shirt clinging to his shoulders and chest, the definition beneath impossible to miss. His duffel bag rested at his feet, and his soft blue eyes caught hers instantly. His grin spread, slow and deliberate, as his gaze slid briefly down the length of her black dress before snapping back up.

“You don’t mess around, do you?” he called, his voice carrying easily over the thrum of treadmills.

Her heels clicked sharply as she crossed toward the locker room, lips tugging into a smirk. “Consistency, right?”

He laughed, shaking his head, still watching her as she disappeared inside.

When she emerged minutes later, the transformation felt almost theatrical. Sneakers laced tight, leggings hugging her hips and thighs, sports bra leaving her stomach bare, lipstick and mascara still perfectly intact. She caught him watching again — not just politely, but intently.

The gym buzzed as Lily slid into place beside Mark, the clang of weights and hum of treadmills layering into a constant pulse. She inhaled sharply, catching the scent of chalk, rubber mats… and him. Sweat, clean soap, something unmistakably masculine.

As Lily began her reps she watched Mark step over to her rack, watching her form, before he stepped closed and brought a hand to her spine.

“Back straighter,” he murmured, his hand brushing the curve of her spine as he corrected her posture.

The contact was feather-light, but it jolted her all the same. She obeyed, lowering deeper, the hem of her leggings tugging tighter across her ass. His gaze lingered; she could feel it, hotter than the sweat already slicking her skin.

“Good,” he said, his voice low, approving.

Her lips curved faintly. “Told you I don’t mess around.”

When she racked the bar, chest heaving, their eyes met in the mirror. His grin spread slowly, dimples flashing, and for a moment, it felt like the room had shrunk down to just the two of them.

Then it was his turn.

Mark ducked under the bar, muscles flexing as he lifted the weight onto his shoulders. Lily moved behind him, spotting, her hands hovering near his waist. The fabric of his shirt clung to his back, damp and stretched tight, every line of muscle clear.

He dropped low into his rep, and she stepped closer instinctively. The side of her hip brushed his as he rose. He glanced at her in the mirror mid-motion, smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Careful,” he said, voice rough with strain. “You’re making this harder.”

“Maybe that’s the idea,” she murmured, leaning just close enough for her breath to stir the hair at his temple.

He grunted through another rep, eyes flashing at her reflection, the smirk turning hungrier. She let her fingers graze his side lightly as he pushed up again — not enough to distract, but enough to tease. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head with a laugh.

“You’re trouble,” he said.

She tilted her head, lips curving. “And you like it.”

By the time he racked the bar, their bodies were close enough that she felt the heat radiating off him. Neither of them moved back. His chest rose and fell fast, her own breath catching to match. For a moment, the space between them throbbed with everything unsaid — the way his eyes lingered on her mouth, the way her fingers toyed with the edge of her towel.

Mid-set, his tone shifted — casual, curious, but tinged with interest. “So what’s the deal? You’ve got some secret plan or something?”

Her heart thudded, louder than the bass overhead. She let the bar settle, leaning against it with deliberate calm, a sly smile curving her crimson lips. “Maybe,” she said. “And maybe you’ll find out one day.”

Mark chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow, dimples flashing. “Mysterious. I like it.”

By the time they finished, Lily’s legs trembled as she slipped back into her red stilettos for the walk home. But it wasn’t just from exertion. Each step echoed with something new, something thrilling:

The book wanted me strong. But Mark thinks I’m more than strong. He thinks I’m interesting.

Day 12 – The Last Lesson of Phase 4

Sunday sunlight streamed through Lily’s window. She reached for her glossy black pumps before anything else, sliding into them almost instinctively. The ritual was so ingrained now it felt less like a rule and more like a natural extension of her body. Her bare feet found the smooth insoles, and the moment she fastened the straps, her posture lifted, shoulders back, chin angled upward.

For her outfit, she chose the pale pink bodysuit tucked into her new black skirt, the fabric hugging her hips, the neckline dipping just low enough to tempt without surrender. She slipped on a thin silver chain at her throat, then leaned close to the mirror to apply her dark red lipstick. Each stroke was careful, deliberate — not rushed the way it had been in the beginning. By the time she pressed her lips together, she realized her reflection looked poised, practiced, even polished.

She was learning the book’s real secret: these weren’t random rules. They were building blocks.

At the Student Center

Her heels rang sharp against the stone path, each step confident, precise. Heads turned as she crossed the courtyard, but she no longer blushed or quickened her stride. She let their gazes linger, let their conversations falter, savoring how natural it felt to draw attention.

Inside, the Student Center was buzzing. Jordan was at the counter, apron loose, dreadlocks tied back. His deep brown eyes lit instantly when he spotted her. A grin tugged across his face before he could stop it.

“Well, damn,” he blurted, then laughed, shaking his head. “Sorry, I mean… you look incredible today.”

Lily leaned against the counter, bracelets chiming softly. Her lips curved into a slow smile. “I’ll take ‘damn.’”

Jordan chuckled as he started her latte. “The usual, or are you feeling adventurous today?”

“Adventuous,” she said without missing a beat. “Surprise me.”

He raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. “A surprise latte for a surprise Lily. I can do that.” As he worked, his gaze flicked down to the line of her legs and the sharp angle of his pumps before meeting her eyes again.

“Those heels,” he said, voice pitched lower, almost private. “And that whole look — you walked in like you owned the place. And everyone here believed it.”

Heat rose faintly under her cheeks, but not from embarrassment. It was satisfaction. But as his words settled, a new, more vivid heat bloomed low in her belly. Her gaze drifted to his hands—the strong, capable way they handled the steaming milk and the ceramic mug. A sudden, sharp fantasy seized her: those hands, untied from his apron, gripping her hips, lifting her onto this very counter. The thought was so clear, so potent, that a pulse of arousal throbbed between her legs.

Or maybe… maybe she’d just sit right here, on this stool, while the whole cafe bustled around them. She’d let her knees fall apart under the counter. He’d watch her, his eyes dark with that same heat, as her own hand slipped down, under the tight fabric of her bodysuit, past the edge of her panties. She imagined the slow, deliberate circles, the way she’d have to bite her lip to stay quiet, the thrill of getting lost in the sensation right here in public, with only him knowing her secret.

The fantasy was so intense that for a second, the roar of the cafe faded to a dull hum. She felt a flush of moisture, a slick warmth that had nothing to do with the latte. Jordan slid the cup across the counter, his fingers brushing hers, and she blinked, the daydream shattering. The book told me heels would make me sexy, she thought, her heart beating a little faster as she picked up her cup. But Jordan sees them as power. And right now, she felt powerful enough to do anything.

The dorm was thick with Sunday quiet, only the faint hum of the heater filling the silence. Kate lay sprawled on her bed with her laptop balanced on her thighs, a textbook half-buried under the blankets. Her damp hair was still loose from her shower, curling at the ends, her legs crossed lazily as she scrolled.

Across the room, Lily sat at her desk in her pale pink bodysuit and black skirt, her glossy black pumps kicked off onto the carpet. She was still glowing faintly from the day — Jordan’s unguarded damn, the stares across campus, the compliments she’d collected like tokens. The ache in her body hadn’t eased; if anything, it had sharpened, demanding release.

She stood slowly, heart racing, and walked to her bed. Without pretense, without warning or a heads up, she stretched out across it, tugging her skirt higher as her legs spread wide. Her breathing quickened.

Kate glanced up from her laptop — and froze.

Her mouth parted, fingers hovering over the keys, eyes locked on Lily.

But Lily didn’t stop. She slipped her hand past the waistband of her thong, gasping at the wetness waiting there. Her fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, her hips lifting greedily into her touch. Her free hand tugged her bodysuit down, breasts spilling free, nipples hard against the cool air.

Kate’s laptop slid off her thighs onto the blanket without a sound. She shifted up on her elbows, transfixed.

“Lily…” she whispered, her voice caught between shock and awe.

Lily’s head fell back against the pillow, a moan ripping from her throat. “Watch me.”

And Kate did.

Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away — not when Lily’s hips rocked harder, not when her thighs trembled, not when the wet sound of her fingers filled the quiet. Kate’s breathing quickened to match Lily’s, chest rising and falling fast.

Lily felt the pressure mount faster than ever, the thrill of being seen amplifying every touch. Her body seized as her first orgasm tore through her — hard, violent, undeniable. She cried out, gripping the sheets in both hands as her body arched, squirting against her palm, the wetness soaking into the fabric beneath her.

Kate gasped, sitting upright now, hand flying to her mouth. Her wide eyes flicked from the damp sheet back to Lily’s face, her lips trembling. “Oh my God…”

But Lily wasn’t done. She barely let herself come down before her fingers were moving again, faster, rougher, chasing another wave. “Don’t stop watching,” she groaned, her voice ragged.

Kate nodded quickly, like she couldn’t speak, her entire body taut with fascination.

The second orgasm hit even harder, ripping a whimper from Lily’s throat — “Kate—!” — as another gush of wetness spattered her thighs, soaking the sheets further. She shuddered violently, toes curling, her hair plastered to her forehead. Her body convulsed, riding the waves until she collapsed back, moaning helplessly.

And still she didn’t stop.

The audience made her insatiable. The heat in Kate’s gaze, the awe on her face, it was like gasoline on a fire. Lily kept going, over and over, until her thighs glistened and the sheets were a mess of wet and sweat. Each orgasm left her trembling, whimpering, crying out Kate’s name as if it anchored her to the moment.

By the fourth release, her voice was raw, her lips swollen, her body spent. She sprawled boneless across the bed, chest heaving, eyes glazed with bliss.

Kate still sat on her bed, knees drawn up now, hugging them tightly to her chest, staring like she had just witnessed something sacred. Her breathing was uneven, her face flushed scarlet, but her eyes shone.

Lily let out a weak, husky laugh, turning her head to meet Kate’s gaze. “Guess I’m not invisible anymore.”

Kate swallowed hard, her smile shaky but full of awe. “Not even close.”

The soft, rhythmic sound of Lily’s breathing was the only noise in the room as the last tremors of her orgasm subsided. She didn’t move to cover herself immediately, instead letting the post-climactic warmth spread through her limbs. She kept her eyes closed for a moment longer, not out of shyness, but to savor the lingering electricity in the air—the charged silence that hummed between her and the girl watching from the other bed.

When she finally opened them, Kate was still there, propped up on her elbows. The moonlight caught the wide, unblinking curiosity in her gaze. There was no judgment, no shock, just a raw, undisguised captivation that made Lily’s pulse give a final, confident thud. A slow, satisfied smile bloomed on Lily’s face. She felt powerful, seen in a way she never had before. This wasn’t the shy, bookish Lily who blushed at the mere mention of sex; this was a version of herself that she was just discovering, and she could see that Kate was discovering her right along with her.

Without a word, Lily shifted, settling under her covers with a fluid grace. The movement was deliberate, a final, unspoken statement. The spell was broken, but something new had taken its place. Kate slowly lowered herself back onto her pillow, turning her head to face Lily in the dim light. The usual playful smirk was gone, replaced by a look of quiet contemplation, as if she were reassessing everything she thought she knew about her roommate. The party girl, the adventurous one, had just been shown a new kind of courage, and she was clearly intrigued.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward; it was thick with understanding and the promise of a shifted dynamic. They lay there, two shadows in a dark room, the air still humming with the memory of what had just transpired. Sleep eventually came, but it was a lighter, more watchful sleep than usual, as if both were waiting to see what the morning would bring. The thought made Lily’s lips curl into a slow, satisfied smile. She didn’t just look sexy. She owned the room. She owned Kate. And she knew this was only the beginning.