Home

You're supposed to think of a place to be, but you can't exactly focus. One part of your brain is too busy grunting happily with the idea of all promising opportunities while the other more rational and more pessimistic part is desperately trying to explain and understand these events in a logical way. Is everything here the result of hallucinogens...? Were you **** somehow? That must be it. None of this is actually happening, is it? There's just no other explanation...

...or is there? Is there a scientific reason supporting the validity of all of this?

...grah. There's no point. The only place you want to be now is back home, in the comfort of your small but well-equipped one room apartment. Your fridge stocked with your favorite snacks, your TV and game systems, and your custom-built computer...yes, home sounds beyond perfect right now. Far away from this weird place...

Hm...that's it. Home. If there's a single place you want to be when you go through this door, it's definitely your apartment.

Mind clear with the image of your comfortable apartment and soft bed, you look to Charles with a nod.

"Got a place in mind, have you?" Charles asks. "Alright then. I'll be opening the door now. The light's gonna be a bit blinding at first, but just will yourself and walk on through, understand?"

You give him an affirmative nod as he clasps the metal of the silver handle and pulls backwards, slowly swinging the massive door open. It creaks as a powerful light escapes from its depths, engulfing the area and cutting your vision off entirely.

"Remember, lad," you hear Charles speak up as you close your eyes in the shower of light. "Don't overthink things. It's that simple, you hear?"

Unable to see anything around you or confirm your surroundings, you take a step forward and begin walking towards the light...

...

...

Sitting up with a jolt, you take a deep breath as you open your eyes. Looking around, you see the familiar dark green interior of your apartment accompanied by the brown carpeting. Placing your hands down, you feel the familiarity of the bed which you've spent so much time sleeping in on, waking up in the early afternoon every day since you graduated.

Without a doubt, this is home, and you're certainly glad to be here.

Was it all a dream? If it was, then why you are clothed? You certainly wouldn't sleep in a pair of jeans and shoes. Furthermore, why don't remember how you fell asleep? In fact, there's a gaping hole in your memory—you can't remember what went on at all throughout the entirety of yesterday.

"A **** that made me forget everything, maybe...?" you mutter aloud to yourself in open thought as you hop off your bed. "Alright, alright...no clue what that was about, but whatever. Maybe I went out with some friends and got just a bit too trashed. Wouldn't have happened if I had a job," more words come as you continue to conversate with yourself while making your way to your kitchen, opening drawers and grabbing materials to prepare breakfast. "So, that's all I've gotta do. Find a job so I can avoid things like that and finally start my career in baboon arseolo—"

You pause your sentence, realizing what you're about to say. Even if it was a dream, you certainly seem to remember that part well enough. With a deep sigh, you roll your eyes and continue assorting your breakfast.

Unsurprisingly for a college graduate who just finished four years of straight studies, you manage to completely forget about the whole "getting your life together" bit you arranged right after breakfast. Instead of looking for a job, you sit your ass right on your bed and turn on the TV, ready to channel surf the day away with your stomach satisfied. At first, you find nothing interesting—the usual boring daytime programming. Painting programs, kids' shows, infomercials... does anyone seriously watch infomercials? The sales ladies in the infomercial seem to be exposing a lot of hip for television presenters, but you put it down to trying to attract male shoppers, and flip onward past a new presenter and a CGI-d "What If?" pseudodocumentary.

You figure you might as well spend some time with your video games until the good stuff starts airing. As you're about to set up your system, though, the cartoon you stopped channel surfing on hits a commercial break, and the first commercial to play steals away your attention as your jaw slowly drops.

It's an ad for a supermarket, with an elderly sounding female voice combined with various scenic shots of a grand market's interior are displayed. The candid footage shows actual customers walking around and shopping, but something is very wrong...

Or, if you're going by the events of last night's dream or whatever that event with Charles was, then it's right. Every woman in the store is walking around quite casually without any bottoms on.

You see shirts ending at the mid-riff, sweaters, blouses, the usual array of women's clothing up top, but not a single woman is wearing anything over their crotches. The most coverage you see is what looks like a girl in a school outfit, whose plaid skirt ends just high enough to show off an inch of well-trimmed snatch and a bit of her bare bottom, and dark green stockings ending mid-thigh above black leather shoes.

Every male, on the other hand, is clothed as usual. None of them seem to remark on the display that's going on around them, aside from a half-second's unguarded glance.

Reaching it's conclusion, the commercial ends as another one begins to play, advertising a new soft drink. This one features friends laughing and joking together, as such commercials usually do. But it's hard to avoid noticing that the casual pose that the girls adopt in the commercial splays their legs in such a way as to give an clear shot of their variously bare, trimmed, or slightly bushy mounds. Their poses would look pretty typical for a commercial if they were all wearing jeans, but these almost look calculated to show off the women's crotches to the viewer.

Even as you try to desperately rationalize some other means of explanation, it's as Charles told you: there's no use in overthinking things. Someway, somehow, Charles and this "doctor" have altered your reality to your desired specifications. You're now living in a world where it's perfectly okay—apparently universal even—for women to walk around bottomless.

You're also quick to remember the second half of your construction involving women from ages 18 to 40 being free for you to play with as you please. Given what you just witnessed in that commercial, you've got no doubts about that half of the contract, either.

Well, after seeing those two commercials, and coming to the realization that this is legitimate...your dick is harder than it's ever been. You're just about ready to get the hell out of your apartment and find some easy action, all while taking in the added enjoyment that comes from everyone acting extremely casual about it. You could knock on any woman's door, be greeted by them without any pants on, ask to use their body, and actually be able to do so freely and have them treat it like nothing... needless to say, your imagination is running wild.

Perhaps you might want to take a relaxed stroll through your neighborhood and see what happens...? Your mind is swimming with ideas: go to the beach, the mall, or to knock on a woman's door at random in your apartment building.

But you can't quite make a move, held up on thinking about the reality you've been placed in—the world that you created by treating the opportunity of your life as if it was a joke. Then again, you can't really blame yourself; you would have never expected Charles' claims of the doctor's world-altering abilities to be legitimate. If you knew that he was telling the truth, you likely would have put much more thought into your decision, but this is what you've got.

Can you really be stuck in a reality where women are always half-naked and are ready to accept you having your way with them at any time at all? How does that even work? Does everyone know who you are or something? Does every woman you fuck have a chance of getting pregnant? Hell, what happens during the winter?

"Don't overthink things. It's that simple, you hear?"

Charles' careful words of advice echo in your mind. Well, if Charles and the doctor had the power to transform society so that every woman was bottomless all the time, maybe things will work themselves out. You certainly don't know what you can do about it.

You're itching to romp in the new world you've made for yourself. But you're not sure how everything works out in practice. Do you hit the pavement of your new world running, or do you test things out a bit?