Take Sarah shopping for some new office supplies.

You walk back to the quad to find Sarah sitting on the grass, yellow post-its still sort of covering her nipples, now with a pink replacement post-it over her pubic mound. "Ran out of yellows huh? I like the new color! What else you got in that bag of yours?" She hands you her backpack and you start unzipping its myriad pockets. The first thing you find is her water bottle, but you used it already and it's empty. Replacing it, you find a text book, a highlighter (not quite as useful as a sharpie!), Sarah's makeup, none of this stuff is as good as the supplies you've been imagining, but there is some bubble gum, so you grab the pack and pop a stick in your mouth. Your power may not allow stealing, but this is Sarah, she won't mind.

You go to pass her back the bag, but she doesn't notice. Her left tit's post-it is blowing across the lawn, and she's chasing it down, her breasts swinging freely in the cool autumn air.

Her phone's in the bag too, so you pull it out and enter her pin, 0185. She's knows yours too, no secrets among friends! You see her phone is blowing up with PeopleList notifications. "You've been tagged in 200 more videos." Says one notice with a little bell icon. "1,000 people reacted to a photo of you!" says another with a bunch of emoji. You scroll down the list, but it just keeps going!

"Your outfit selection has made me a kind of celebrity." Sarah's returned, blushing a bit at your discovery. She's re-affixing the left tit's post-it, just in time for the right one to whip away in the breeze. She runs off after it. "I was untagging myself for a while, but it got to be pretty overwhelming real fast." The post-it note blows up the steps of a nearby lecture hall. You look around and see people snapping even more photos and videos as Sarah chases the piece of paper around. Some girl walking out of the lecture hall snaps a photo and shouts "Mira esa goofy slut!"

Something about this chick harassing Sarah pisses you off. She's a hot little Latina freshman, with a lip ring and shimmering, jet-black hair up in pig tails. She's wearing a teensy pleated skirt of red and black plaid and a white halter top under a baggy, shapeless olive drab jacket. A thick-strapped messenger bag slung over one shoulder pushes her little tits apart to each side of her slender chest. It's not this chica's outfit that's pissing you off, ugly jacket aside, or that she's harassing a fellow student. It's that it's Sarah. If this bitch were picking on Kimmy Baker, you'd probably encourage it! You realize that even though you've basically wrecked Sarah's social life with your power... it's still _you _setting the limits of what happens to her. You don't feel right letting some little puta, still fully covered up in her back-to-school garb, insult your friend Sarah.

"Hey you, Slut-shamer," you point at the girl, "let's talk about your outfit for a sec."

She groans, but strays from the sidewalk diligently, crossing the lawn toward you. Her sexy little body gets your dick going again full blast as she walks lazily toward you. You wave Sarah back over and she returns to your side, right tit still uncovered. Time to turn the tables on this freshman. You blow a big pink bubble with your gum and hope it looks menacing.

"Sarah, I've really enjoyed your outfit, but I'm changing it as of now. I think you'll look good in that skirt, so for the rest of the day, you'll be wearing that." You indicate the harasser's plaid mini and she huffs as she steps out of it. Sarah picks it up from the ground and steps into it, looking kinda relieved actually. You feel a slight relief at that too. Maybe you should include her a little bit more in your adventures as clothing controller. You are supposed to be friends after all, aren't you? "What do you think of this bitch's jacket, Sarah?"

Sarah has managed to pull this way too small skirt up over her hips, stretching it a little but who cares? It rests real high up on her waist, since her hips are a little wider than this tiny girls'. This means the hem is basically level with her pussy. It's really not hiding much, but it's not blowing away like a post-it either. Sarah is about to answer you when your latest victim interjects:

"It's not this-little-bitch's-jacket, bro, it's Carla's-fuckin'-jacket to you." She puffs up a little, managing to look almost kinda tough despite her small, pantsless frame. You notice her smooth cappuccino thighs and her totally unexpected gramma panties for the first time.

"Whatever Carla, your jacket sucks." Sarah offers.

"Listen, you little pinche puta, your jacket sucks and so do your undies. I'll call you what I like, but for now I've got a job to do." You grab her by her right pigtail and yank her towards you, pulling on the sleeve of her over-sized jacket with your other hand, ripping it right off her back. In nothing but panties and the halter top, this chick's skinny little frame looks magnificent, from her smooth, rounded tummy to her supple, little tits.

Still holding her pigtail, you grab her crotch with your other hand and squeeze. You're careful not to penetrate anything, wouldn't wanna overextend your powers, but you squeeze her as hard as you can, wondering if you can find her clit through this thick mess of cotton. She groans "aaaaaiiaaiiiiiiiii" and you keep squeezing. After a few seconds, you take a step back and look around. This chick is dripping a little bit down her thigh and people have started taking photos and videos, so you figure it's time. "Clothes off, all of them. Especially those gramma panties, bitch!" You blow a big, pink, round bubble and pop it with a smack.

"Especially those gramma panties, BITCH!" some guy echoes your taunt from elsewhere on the quad.

As Carla removes her top, spilling her little A cup tits and brown nipples out for the whole quad to ogle, her previously confident grin shifts to a tremble instead. She bites her thick bottom lip and blushes a bit as her messenger bag hits the ground. Finally, she slides down her awful underpants and reveals to you and all the onlookers the reason for said atrocity.

Her bush is huge. With a skirt like the one Sarah's now sporting, this little chick could never hope to hide a wild forest like that in anything less than gramma panties! You're pretty sure you have the power to do something about this though. Carla stands in front of you, blushing bright red now, wearing nothing but shoes and jewelry. She may be embarrassed, but you still have some adjustments to make, and she still hasn't really learned her lesson yet. "Shoes off too!" you command. As she's stepping out of her shoes, you stride up to her, spitting your gum out into your left hand and shoving a few more pieces in your mouth with your right.

Then, before she can look up from taking her shoes off, you slam your handful of gum into the base of her left pigtail, smirking. She cringes and tries to duck away, but your hand is already kinda stuck to her hair, so you keep her in place. She's losing it now, finally realizing your power over her. The crowd of people is split between those laughing or those shaking their heads, but you notice at least Sarah seems satisfied with your work. It's kinda like you're helping her get **** for this chick's comment. You smack a huge bubble with your new piece of gum and tell your victim, indicating the wad in her hair, "that's part of the outfit too. You'll wear that for the rest of the day, but then you should probably cut it out." She won't have two pig-tails tomorrow!

The crowd laughs at Carla's fate as you go for your final move. Pulling slightly with your gum-glued hand, fingers wrapped around her head, you drag her toward you closer, and grab her pussy one more time, firm and hard, only when you pull your hands away, everyone can see that you'd spit this huge new wad of gum into your other hand first. It's stuck all up in Carla's frizzy black bush. "That's part of the outfit too." You point at her crotch, the last wisps of stretched out gum falling away from your hands as you shove her away and let go. "That one you should get shaved out right away though. In an hour your official outfit will no longer include pussy gum, so get it taken care of!"

Carla's crying now. Her head in her hands, gum in her hair, and her possessions on the ground, you feel pretty satisfied with the new state of this nasty, wretched passerby.

Feeling more creative than ever about exercising your power, you make way for the campus bookstore, but stop before going in. One last thing. Carla is still standing there, too shaken to move it seems, but sooner or later, she's gonna pick up her shit and go. She can't wear any of it, of course, since you left her with nothing but jewellery, but she can still carry it.

"Hey Sarah, another modification to your outfit, okay?"

"Sure dude." It's not just compliance, it's almost like she's excited to see what you have planned.

"Wear this bitch's bag, would you please?"

"Could you carry mine?" You almost snap back with 'carry em both bitch!' but then you remember, this isn't gum-bushed Carla or cum-faced Kimmy. It's your good friend Sarah, beautiful tits, smiling, round-assed Sarah with one post-it on her left tit.

"Of course, babe." You happily take Sarah's bag off her shoulders while she puts on Carla's. You're not sure if the bag is now Sarah's or if it's still technically Carla's, but nothing untoward happens, and you tormented this freshman babe enough that she doesn't seem ready to object. You rummage through Sarah's bag and pull out a green post-it for her right tit. She slaps it on her nipple and smiles at you, leaning over, and pecking you on the cheek. It's cute. Sure, you just helped cover up a previously uncovered nipple, but you've seen plenty today already, and are happy to make her feel good. Plus if the trip to the bookstore goes as planned, she won't be wearing it too long anyway.

You push open the doors to the bookstore. Walking past you, out of the bookstore are a couple of hot sisters and their parents. It's orientation week so a decent amount of parents are around, helping out with Textbook fees, shopping, moving in, whatever. The bookstore is actually pretty full, with students and parents. You could easily get distracted from your goal in here.

You find yourself fixating on the family in front of you. The freshman's B cup tits under her frumpy plain t-shirt? Nah, the older sister's C Cup cleavage and nice, broad hips under her white tank top? Sure, but you gotta go...Oh wait, maybe this milf, big ole double Ds under her sundress. Fuck it! What's it cost you to give them a quick command as you walk by? You snap back to reality. They're all standing there just watching you check them out. Dad looks kinda pissed, but the women seem more uncertain than anything. Are they waiting for you to say something?

"Boobs uncovered indoors ladies, all three of you. For the rest of the yea..." you're about to finish your decree, and the girls are already pulling their shirts off, but the milf interjects.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, you little snot?" Oh shit, she must not qualify as a 'young woman.' She's like ... 30 something? Basically 40. You're not sure where the line is yet, but you've definitely left it somewhere in the rear view this time.

"Excuse me, ma'am." You hurriedly back-pedal. "I'm so sorry, I meant to say 'both' of you," you nod to her daughters, "and would never deign to tell you how to ..."

"You better not!" So she needs the last word, and she looks like she also needed to cut you off again mid-sentence, but she doesn't seem to feel the need to say anything about your treatment of her daughters, the two young ladies now standing topless in front of you. You feel up each of these chicks' tits in the doorway to the bookstore. They're obviously just waiting to get past you to the outdoors, where they're clearly gonna put their tops back on, but you're pretty sure you don't have to let people go at any specific moment. You're still controlling, aren't you?

"Nice tits on both these girls," you tell their parents. Dad is frowning deeply, his face bright red, while the milf has her arms folded self-consciously across her chest, watching you punish her young daughters. They both nod though, acknowledging your comment about their daughters' tits.

"Yeah, nice tits, but lousy choice of bras, ladies. No more bras for you, ever. Never. See ya!" You stride past them, slapping each of their butts as you head to the office supplies section of the bookstore.

First you grab some white glue. Next, a pair of scissors of your very own, and an exacto knife, duct tape, masking tape, painter's tape, every color of sharpie, and more. This shit is gonna be great, but it makes you realize more and more than you should probably visit a department store soon. Or a hardware store. And a clothing store. And a salon. And a sex shop...

There they are! The main item you came here for, mini-post-its. They've got em in all colors so you grab a megapack off the shelf. "Okay, all set" you say to Sarah, but she's got Carla's headphones on, and can't hear you while she rifles through the messenger bag. "Hey, you can wear those, but you gotta stay with me! Find anything good?" Sarah pulls out a wallet, and from it, $200. "Fuck yeah. I was wondering if my 50 was gonna cover everything we needed, but hey, don't they sell commemorative liquor bottles here?"

"Yeah, but it's technically a dry campus."

"They sell flasks?"

"Of course they do!"

You grab a few bottles of Commemorative Whiskey and Wine, all they've got leftover from last year's alumni expo game event or something. You approach the cashier, but a freshman and her mother are buying a library's worth of textbooks in front of you, so you wait, still discovering more loot in Carla's bag. Sarah pulls out a blue bandana and you joke 'Little Carla must have been a real OG or something'. Sarah laughs, and you pocket the bandanna.

"That'll be five-hundred and sixty-six dollars," says the chick behind the counter. You notice she's wearing an official, college-branded cheerleader's halter, her toned midriff uncovered under her breasts. You smile at the influence you've had on this campus.

"Five-hundred and sheesh!" the mom exclaims, spinning around to see who might be nearby to lend a sympathetic ear. She sees you and your armful of booze, scowling, while somehow also totally overlooking Sarah's ludicrous lack of an outfit.

"It's ridiculous, I worked for like a fuckin' week to get this money together, and what, your textbook list was wrong? You said it would be under Five so that's all I brought! Five-hundred dollars." She shakes the five bank-fresh notes in her daughter's face. "What are we supposed to do now?"

You've been focused on paying for these supplies with your own cash, and on the fact this this milf in front of you is likely just as free from your command as the last one, but you realize you still have plenty of options in this situation.

"Excuse me, Darla." You read the cashier's nametag. "I'm a huge fan of your outfit."

"Thanks!" She replies.

"But this one here, not so much hers." You gesture with your thumb at the daughter. Until now all you'd seen of her was her messy brown hair and her oversized jeans obscuring whatever kind of butt she's got under there. As she turns around, however, you notice her face is just a younger cuter picture of her still hot milf of a mom...but her tits are hugemongous. This otherwise smallish freshman stands in front of you at a mere 5'4'', but her massive tits are twice as big as your head each. You figure they have to be F ... G Cups? She's got on a bulky, knitted sweater that hangs off her curves.

"Open that register please, Darla, cuz this Freshman's gonna cover her tits with the largest denomination bills you've got in there, double-sided-taped to her nipples, or she's gonna cover em with nothing at all!"

The one girls pops open the register and starts pulling out hundreds and fifties, while the other starts taking her clothes off. You tear open one of the packages of double-sided tape you selected... but haven't purchased yet, and grab a handful of bills from Darla. You start taping the cash to the freshman's tit, fixing them to her huge areola. You make sure to tape enough up there so that she'll be able to cover the bill, but not enough so that she'll actually be covered! Four fifties oughta do it. You tell Sarahh to wear the rest. As soon as she puts them on, you tell her to switch to topless, and then rather than stow it in the new messenger bag or her backpack that you're wearing, she stuffs the money right into your pocket! This job is broken!

Meanwhile, the milf snatches two fifties off her teen's tits and hands the stack of $600 to Darla, who's looking a little confused about how to resolve her new tiller accounting problem, but takes the money and deposits it in the tray nonetheless. She hands the ladies the big bag of books, and a receipt, and it's your turn to check out. Darla quotes you $280, and you pull out the money Sarah gave you, but then, as the milf and her top-heavy teen walk off, you hear the mom murmur something about entitled pricks blowing their rich parents' money on booze while she's slaving day and night to pay for...

"Excuse me, ma'am," you remember to address the milf politely, since she's likely too old for your power's influence. "It seems I'm not quite finished with this one's outfit after all." You point your thumb at the freshman and she slumps.

"Geez mom what the hell? This guy just fuckin' paid for my books and now you're insulting him?"

"Did he pay for your books or did he humiliate you, Jenny?"

"He paid for my books, Mom, he's a clothing controller!"

"Yeah I know!" The milf shouts, "but he's exposed you like this in front of the whole..."

"What do you care?" interrupts Jenny Gynormo Tits. "It's not any worse than you shaking your titties on stage every night? Besides, he's doing his job too, just like you."

"Wow, Jenny. Pretty ungrateful. I work hard dancing for money, give you hundreds of my hard-earned..."

"Alright, alright enough! Jenny, we're going to have to further modify your outfit at this point." You whip out your not quite purchased scissors and approach the milf, but address the daughter Jenny. "Your new outfit will consist of a skirt, made of Masking tape and shreds of your mother's outfit." To the milf you ask, "wanna hand me your shirt, or should I chop it up where it is?" You scissor the blades open and shut in your hand, hoping this works, praying this is all allowed for by your power over the younger woman's clothes.

"Fuck," says the milf as she pulls the shirt off over her head. It's working! She hands you her shirt and you get to chopping, requesting her pleather pants next. You hand Sarah each piece of the milf's clothes until she's taped them all together into an ugly, bogus skirt-like thing, which she then tapes around Jenny's waist. The milf stands in her underwear. It's nice, but it's not enough, not to satisfy your desire for **** at her ungrateful slight. You could chop up her lingerie to add to the skirt, but why not push your luck in a different way?

"Sarah? Would you be so kind as to wear this milf bitch's purse, and the taped-on bills her daughter still has, too?"

"Of course!" Sarah giggles and happily complies. As soon as her nipples are covered with fifties, she's searching through the woman's purse and starts taping the remaining small bills she finds to her own gorgeous tits.

"Oh come on" moans the milf, but you're not quite done yet.

"Alright, so I can't command you to go topless, ma'am, but I can require that your daughter remain topless at any and all times that you are not. Right now, you're not."

Jenny flaps her arms at her sides and moans "mooooom, look what you did!" It's good, but you're still, still not done.

"Finally," you raise your voice for Darla and the rest of the bookstore to hear, "in honor of Freshman Orientation, any freshman woman purchasing any items at this store for the rest of the week will be required to swap her pants, shorts, or skirt for a paper-tape/text-book page skirt, made generously by Darla here in her spare time, from the ripped-out pages of these fine textbooks here in this bag." You draw out these last few words, letting them sink in for Jenny and her stripper mom. You hold out your hand for the bag of books and Jenny, unable to even really contemplate resisting, offers them up. You hand the bag back to Darla and honk her tit through the sheer halter. She doesn't really mind, blushes a little, and sets herself to making the skirts you ordered.

Jenny is crying now, and her mom is real pissed. Sarah is grinning like a witch.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Jenny wails. "That's the whole semester's reading list, gone!"

"Yeah, and all my money and my shit you selfish little twat." Damn, you really brought out the bitch in Jenny's mom!

You chime in with a helpful solution. "I dunno, maybe drop out? I bet your mom can help you get a job. Hey you know what? I'll even throw in an addendum to your outfit rules. You'll be exempt from the topless rule any time you or your mom happen to be stripping on stage, for money. That way, whenever you find the need to put some clothes on so you can take them off to pay your bills, you'll still be able."

The two women are blown away and Jenny is weeping loudly and openly.

Sarah actually high-fives you and the two of you walk back to the register to pay Darla for your supplies. "That'll be $280 total." She says.

You hand her a wad of cash, but Sarah declares "Hey, you know some of these packages are already opened. Shouldn't there be a discount?"

Darla doesn't even blink. "Of course! So, like the four of these will be half-off, reducing your price by like seven bucks." Sarah shrugs. Guess you should have opened the booze too! You'd open it now, but you don't wanna risk getting in trouble. Seriously, the money doesn't matter anyway, not as long as Sarah is still willing to give you the money that is apparently rightfully hers once you've made her wear it.

You suddenly realize the incredible affect on your life you could have, in addition to your base power, by simply keeping your friend happy. Still, the next thing you remember is what brought you to the bookstore in the first place, and you hand Sarah the mini-post-its. "Here, please replace those things," you say, pointing to her current, crinkled up, full-size post-its. She sighs but seems to smile at your joke, even at her own expense. Once she's wearing them, you look her over and say "You're the most beautiful thing I've seen all morning." There's a gleam in her eye and you're pretty sure she's melting inside.

You head out of the bookstore, Sarah at your side, ready for anything! Except actually, you're pretty hungry and it's a little past lunch time at this point.