Gianna doesn't feel so good about this anymore

Only a moment ago you were a busty goddess. To your feet two guys, who could count themselves lucky to even be in your presence, and more so to be allowed to worship your curves and incredible bust.

But when you exited the taxi and left the busy street to enter your apartment, it started. Certain emotions slowly began to creep back inside you. Small doubts nagging and chipping away at the core of your identity. And before you have a chance to realize what is going on, your incredible confidence and self-esteem are gone. These traits, which influenced your behavior, allowed your inner desires to express themselves, and fueled your sudden and unexpected transformation from innocent, shy and reserved woman to a full-fledged dominatrix. Everything - gone.
You are left empty and hollow, unprepared for the feelings that hit you with full ****: Doubt, Insecurity, regret, remorse, embarrassment, shame.
You are defenseless and helpless as they wash over and quickly overwhelm you, and you break out in tears.

You were about to cheat on your boyfriend, Michael. Or wait. You did cheat already! You let these two guys fondle your breasts, and you liked it! God, how could you let that happen? Let them see the source of your shame and pain?

Only slowly it dawns to you, that this is still happening. You are towering over the two nameless guys, who you called Kitty and Pub. They still keep kneeling dutifully, and keep looking at you with wide open eyes. On their faces are no signs of emotion, no reaction to the condition you are in. No response to your sobs and tears. The only thing in them is submission and obedience. And they are not even really looking at you, they are just staring at your tits. You have made them slaves to your freakishly huge tits.
Your very much naked tits! Upon this realization, you quickly attempt to cover your bountiful orbs with your hands, which are obviously far too small to have an meaningful impact and barely hide anything from the view of Kitty and Pub. You fully feel shame and sorrow, these sensations which in your mind are always connected to your breasts.Why is this happening? Why are you tormented again by your huge breasts? Didn’t you leave all this behind when you found the Rulebook?

God, the Rulebook. What did you do with it? Forcing despair on women with small breasts? Bending men to your will? That’s plain evil!
The Rulebook. What happened to your confidence? To your self esteem. Why are you ashamed of your breasts again?
The Rulebook. Why is only part of it working? Kitty and Pub are still mindless husks. But your conscience is killing you. The shame you feel about your breasts, the regret about what you did. Your pain. It’s all real.
The pain is dulling your senses. The shame about your breasts. Cheating on your boyfriend. The regrets about what you did with the Rulebook.
The Rulebook. You take the book out of your purse, not even minding that you give the two guys a clear view again on your two bewitching mountains of flesh. You only know one thing: You want your pain to go away. Right now. As you open the book, some of your tears drop down and fall on the pages.

You quickly skim over your first two rules, and realize where it all went wrong: “...having a bigger chest than the women around you should give you incredible self-esteem and confidence.”
Clearly there is no other less fortunate woman around you right now.