[Free Use: A-Cup to D-Cup (1A+1C), Occasional Absentminded Dressing, 2C]

You explain your ideal world to an inquisitive Charles, his golden eyes gleaming at first, but soon causing his brow to furrow slightly with impatience.

"I can see we're going to have a problem with you overthinking things," says Charles with a light breath, "but that's only to be expected from someone who took it upon themselves to study the finer aspects of baboon arses. Anyway, let me get this straight..."

"Your first bit is simple enough," Charles begins, leaning forward as he begins to recap your explanation. "You can do whatever you damn well please with women that have breasts ranging from a size A to a size D, and you're just about the only one who can do so. Truth be told, mate, that's one hell of a range, and the doctor would probably ask you to not be so broad, but don't worry about that old geezer. I'll do you a favor and make sure it works out."

Surprisingly enough, it seems that Charles is looking out for you despite all of the teasing and jokes.

"With regards to that, you also wanted to tack on the 1C modifier with the hopes of making female masturbation a common sight, did you?" Charles asks, reclining back in his seat and stroking his chin. "Hm...the doctor's gonna be a bit iffy on that one, but I'd like to think it'd work. Just don't expect to see very well-endowed women having at it. Remember, that 1C modifier is connected to the A-cup to D-cup range, so only women who fit that criteria will be going to town on themselves. They definitely won't be helping each other out, and it's strictly hands-off for other men."

"Looks like I was right in the end," Charles suddenly comments, going on a slight tangent. "I had you pegged as the greedy type right from the start, mate. Not bad."

You can't help but wince a bit at his comment, feeling slightly ashamed at your own greed for a moment. Charles notices this and doesn't hesitate to laugh. "Hey now, this is all about you in the end. Whatever you want...and if what you want you want is every woman you fancy to be your own personal plaything, best not make it bring society to it's knees, wouldn't you say? Sure, smart thinking there, Kant. Good planning with the cup sizes as well. Like them small, do you?"

You blush lightly with a small nod, to which Charles grins slyly. "Can't blame ya. Anything more than D is going a bit overboard, in my opinion. Some men never learn..."

For a moment, you're genuinely surprised by Charles making yet another kind comment...

"...but maybe that's wisdom you've gleaned from studying other forms of primate cleavage. You're the expert, after all," he finishes with a hearty laugh.

...and there goes that.

"Moving on, then," Charles resumes after sorting out your first wish. "The second half of your setup...occasional absentminded dressing, was it? Can't say I've heard of that one before. I'm assuming you want women to dress in what we could call an 'inappropriate way' every now and again, yeah? One day they wake up, throw something on, go about their morning, and find themselves at the office in a see-through negligee, or a leather bodice, or maybe they go starkers and don't realize it till they find their bare bodies freezing over due to a harsh windchill. Or maybe they've only pulled up their panties half way up and left the straps of their tank tops around the shoulders, or maybe their asses are hanging out of their shorts while they exercise...things like that, yeah? Naturally, the world's reaction at large to all of itwould likely be an 'Oh well, nobody's perfect'; at the worst, they might be asked to find something more appropriate to wear if someone actually realizes—I imagine this would only happen with an extremely uptight boss at work or something—but it's often overlooked and there's no sneering disapproval. Something like that, yeah?"

You nod to show your agreement, and Charles nods in return. "Yeah, no issues there, mate. I don't know whether men would bless you or curse you for the unintended consequences you're about to expose them to. They won't do either, of course, as they'll have no clue it has anything to do with you.

"Finally, you actually want this to be something that people are somewhat aware of. The women you have your way with will have a strong sense that it is unusual, but will get into it. They won't think of it being something they have a choice in, and they won't tend to think very much about it afterwards. That goes for women playing with themselves in public, as well: they'll find it exciting, and naughty, as if each time is something they've never done before. In either case, onlookers will only look on with bland interest, if that. Except you of course, you prying pervert," Charles says with a laugh and a wink.

"As for the clothes, women will be mortified if they notice that they are very under-dressed or inappropriately dressed. Their embarrassment will only nonplus any onlooker, and they might even unwittingly embarrass the woman further. In the height of their embarrassment, perhaps a pair of women in the same condition might sympathise with one another, but the next day they won't understand the plight of a girl who found themselves wearing no more than a thong."

"In short, as far as women go," Charles begins with a final summation, "you want everything your way with almost all of them, you would like for them to occasionally but systematically embarrass themselves, and you would like for this to cause them the greatest possible anxiety which is consistent with society running smoothly. How are those issues of yours, champ? Boiling nice and steady?"

Your face is going red from a frustrating combination of Charles showing how squarely he has you pegged and from the anticipation of the world he has just described back to you. "Ah, don't worry, mate," he says with a mischievous grin as he reels in your discomfort. "You may hate now, but when I drop you in your new reality and you start enjoying yourself, you'll swear I'm the best thing that ever happened to you."

"So, have I got that right?" he asks, smirking knowingly. You nod, somewhat angry at his cheek. With another nod, Charles reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small flip phone that looks about a decade old. "Right then, lad. I'll give the doctor a call and you'll be on your way."

Punching numbers in, he puts the phone to his ear as the dial tone starts playing. Not long after, it stops and a muffled voice you can't hear very well from your end speaks up. "Yeah, listen, doc," Charles said. "The request is a bit...tricky, I would say? Nothing you can't handle, but it might take some work. No, no...he didn't break the rules...much," he says quietly while looking at you, stifling a laugh.

Charles relays the information to the point, and after some silence, the muffled voice says something very briefly before hanging up on their end, causing the call to drop. Charles turns his eyes to you as he closes his phone and stands up from his seat. "That's that. Now, if you'll follow me."

Getting up from your own chair, you follow the foreign gentleman through the maze of crates, occasionally passing an emotionless guard with eyes hidden behind heavy sunglasses. Your heart racing, you're still not sure what exactly to expect. How is this going to end...?

"Here we are."

Looking around, you see that you and Charles are suddenly at the end of a very long white hallway, walls painted with streaks of black. In front of you stands a large black door with curved handles of silver, standing impressively tall.

How...and when? Why are you in this hall? You were in the warehouse just moments ago...right?

"Don't think too hard, lad," Charles says with a dismissive chuckle. "All I need you to do is imagine where you want to be when you open this door. It's that simple. Could be your shitty apartment, could be the halls of your college, could be a movie theater downtown...just think of where you want to be as you start to explore and exploit the world you've created."

Well...you've already come this far. You've listened to this insane gentleman prattle on about your casual fetishism and you've ended up in a white hallway beyond all logic...so there's no point in trying to figure this out now. You decide to throw caution to the wind and go all the way, seeing this ride through to the end.

In a world where there will be a baseline rate of women dressing provocatively and where you can have your way with any adult woman whose breast cup size is D or under...in a world where women unwittingly present themselves as sexual playthings, and even play with themselves, with you the only one to really notice...where do you want to be?