Home, to do some planning

There's only so long you can let your junk swing in the breeze before it gets weird, even for you. Your latest conquests are starting come down from their lust-crazed high and taking care of the post-coital cleanup, so you figure it's time to go...but decide to get one last parting shot in.

You walk up to the barista; a young girl, 18-19, possibly early twenties, you figure. She's talking to another customer so she doesn't pay you much mind. You catch her hand and scribble her a love note.

Only allowed to work topless

You step back and watch your handy work unfold. The barista reflects on her new status for just a moment before quickly stripping off her top and bra, freeing a lovely pair of firm, B cup breasts. She continues serving the man she was speaking to before, who now wears a wide smile. Someone's going to be getting a lot of tips after this shift, you think to yourself before heading out the door. She should be thanking you.

You decide to walk home. You're not that far from your apartment and you want to take the time to reflect on everything that's happened so far. You ponder the whole Truth-Writer business and come to a few simple realizations. Firstly, the ink pen is ideal for small, temporary changes. Blondie back there is not going to be a pussy rubbing, screaming-in-public spectacle for the rest of her life. The ink will either wear off in a few days or sooner if she washes regularly (you hope so). A permanent marker or something similar will be better for more prolonged changes, but still relatively impermanent, ironically. The only thing you can think of to make permanent changes would be a tattoo. However, you're not an artist and you would have to do the tattooing...wouldn't you? Could you create a proxy? Someone to tattoo your will? You contemplate this the rest of the way home. It's a lot the think about. Best not make any rash decisions for now. Temporary changes would be fine for the time being anyways.

You get to your apartment building and frown. Your cramped, dirty, shitty apartment is waiting for you up there. You hate it, but it's all that you can afford. You look down at your pen and smile. At least, it was all you could afford until now, you realize. You take a breath and step through the door. Small changes first, you decide.

Upon entering the common area, you see one of your neighbors checking her mail. Wanda Stevens, an older but not unattractive woman. She's always very polite and even a little motherly sometimes. She lights up when you greet her. She's not exactly on your list of potential conquests, plus you've just spent yourself. She's not bad looking, though. A little on the heavier side, but with the matching rack, strong legs and a firm rear end from her morning jogs, a few wrinkles, but otherwise no worse for the wear.

You chat with her amicably for a moment while idling writing a few new character traits on her arm. Once you've finish, you confess to her that you apartment is in dire need of cleaning.

She gives you that motherly smile again. "Don't you worry about a thing. Let me just get out of these clothes and I'll be right there to get you tidied up!" She turns and heads back up to her apartment and you return to yours.

True to her word, Wanda is at your door just a few minutes later wearing only a pair of sneakers and smile. With hardly a greeting, your new, personal, nude maid is a frenzy of cleaning, polishing and sorting. All you need to do is sit back, enjoy the show and plan what you want next...