What's next?

You're so vain

The truth is, and it's hard to admit it, you've never liked being average. Being average meant you were practically invisible, and while it protected you somewhat, that **** allegation had shown you it just wasn't enough.

Well, if blending in didn't do you any good, then you're going to stand out. The only problem was how to stand out in the right ways, but the internet could help with that. But first, you want to be alone with just your thoughts, the internet and the Rulebook before you continue, so you walk home (to save on gasoline) and station yourself at your desk, your laptop open in front of you.

"New rule: The True Owner of the Rulebook stands seventy-three inches tall without shoes."

Google, Reddit and Quora all seem to agree that being 6'1" was an ideal height for a man, tall enough where other men would admire you, but not so tall as to be inconvenient.

"New rule: The True Owner of the Rulebook is extremely physically attractive to women but still recognizable as himself."

You feel parts of your body rearranging itself as soon as you finish writing the sentence; were it not for the fact you were immune to pain and harm, you imagine you'd be in a world of hurt right now, and you thank your lucky stars you had the foresight of protecting yourself first. When the shifting of your flesh ends, you can hardly resist going to the mirror to take a look at yourself, and what you see is pleasantly surprising.

Though you had specified that you were physically extremely attractive to women, which caused physical changes to your body in a way you had not foreseen, the results were appealing even to you; had you gone with an old rule instead of a new one, you likely wouldn't have experienced the change, but you were worried making it old rule might also alter your life experiences, and you weren't sure you were ready to deal with the consequences of change the timeline just yet.

Gone was the bland, even nondescript facial features, replaced by a face that was certainly you, but mixed with some combination of Brad Pitt, Chris Evans and Cillian Murphy, a blend of ruggedly masculine, femininely modelesque and quietly dignified features that made you simultaneously handsome, beautiful and distinguished. Even with your clothes on, you could feel the slight paunch you had once sported on your belly had melted away, leaving behind a slimmer body, and after you strip out of your clothes to give yourself more than a cursory look in the mirror, you notice that your body is toned, but not bulky, with broader shoulders and slightly narrower waste.

When you look between your legs though, you're less than impressed. While you have certainly grown a fair bit since you wrote your last entry in the Rulebook, a lifetime of pornography had warped your sensibilities.

A thought and a snap of your fingers, and the Rulebook was in your hands.

"Old rule: As an adult, the True Owner of the Rulebook has an uncircumcised penis that is three inches wide and fourteen inches long when erect, has no trouble getting and staying fully erect when he wants it to, without any negative effects, and it never experiences any chafing or soreness. His penis always fits into any sexual orifice with maximum pleasure and zero harm or pain, he has no refractory period, has unlimited stamina for sexual activity, and can refrain from reaching orgasm for as long as he wants with no issues at all. He has testicles the size of large eggs, and his seminal fluid is phenomenally enhanced in taste, scent and quality: it's extremely tasty and high nourishing, remains fresh forever, never damages things, brings great sexual pleasure to anyone it touches, especially if taken internally. He can adjust how much seminal fluid he produces and/or his fertility, from infertile at one end to multiple-children-guaranteed per insemination at the other or anything in between, at any time, on the fly, simply by willing it. All of his orifices are always clean, and any orifice he penetrates with his penis is instantly cleaned and lubricated just right, and when he removes his penis from an orifice, it returns to its previous tightness without harming whoever it belongs to. The True Owner of the Rulebook is the best sexual partner to have ever lived and only gets better with experience. He can always get exactly the reaction he wants from a sexual partner."

As you finish writing the rule, you feel your penis elongate and thicken; looking in the mirror, you watch in awe as your package grows to match the rule. With a thought, you feel blood rush rush into your manhood, bringing it to attention at a moment's notice, and you can't help but admire its new size, longer than your forearm and about as wide across as your wrist. It's certainly a wonder, so thick you can barely get forefinger and thumb to touch when you wrap one hand around it, though you feel like that might say more about your hands than you realize. At the base of your cock, you feel the new weight of your new balls sitting in your scrotum.

Except, as you quickly discover, even though you can make it erect at will, making it go down was not nearly as easy.

It was then that the memories rushed into your mind. While you had hoped becoming a sex god would have made you no longer a thirty-odd-year-old virgin, you were never circumcised as a baby and was mocked mercilessly for your foreskin, as well as your prodigious size, by the other boys in the gym showers; being ever the shy introvert, it gave you a bit of a complex about your penis and made you a **** to show it to other people. Now, reading the rule and realizing you were a sex god all along, you regret all the time you wasted not having sex, though the entry did give you incredible sexual confidence.

The sudden alterations of your memories made you very glad you had written very few old rules; already your previous memories were fading, replaced by the new ones, and you worry a little that any old rule that go back any length of time might really further affect your memories.

But that is a problem for future you, along with your still turgid manhood; right now, with almost all of your savings gone and your reputation ruined from the **** allegation, you were unemployable. Then again, after toiling away for more than forty hours every week in a hospital with abusive patients and impatient visitors for the better part of a decade, you have no real interest in working any kind of job.

And so, once again, pencil met paper.

"New rule: The True Owner of the Rulebook has more money than he could ever spend in his lifetime. He can never lose this money except by spending it or giving it away, and any means he uses to spend the money can never be compromised or stolen. No one every questions where his riches come from."

With your economic problems solved, you strike upon a different problem: suddenly being rich and good looking would draw attention to you for reasons other than where your money came from, and you aren't sure you're up for that kind of attention.

"New rule: The True Owner of the Rulebook's has a near-supernatural knack for evading official notice and/or documentation; if he wishes to be left alone, no one will disturb him or his home wherever he choose to make it, and he can apply this selectively. People will either not find his immortality, eternal youth, endless wealth and unnatural traits and abilities odd, or will find them amazing but will never do anything untoward with the knowledge."

Re-reading the rule, you are certain your new-found sexual traits fall under the "unnatural" clause; even if they didn't, the do-not-disturb clause would prevent people from harassing him.

Still, despite your good looks, you still feel inadequate; your new body might be in better shape than your previous one, but in no way does it feel like it would be more than physically average in any department beyond the sexual one.

It was time to remedy that.

"New rule: Like Steve Rogers, Captain America, The True Owner of the Rulebook is physically at the peak of human potential."

You feel your body begin to morph once again and squeeze your eyes close rather than peer in the mirror, having no desire to witness whatever grotesque alterations the rule was having on your body. Only after the modifications have ended do you check yourself out.

The changes to stark, to say the least.

Whereas before, with the attractiveness rule, you were toned, the new rule made you look movie star jacked, with well-defined muscles that made it look like you were no stranger to working out but not so shredded that you looked like a fitness model, let alone a bodybuilder. You also feel stronger and faster, and find your vision far clearer than before.

Languidly, you stroke your truly enormous boner, wondering how you will make it go down, when you feel the pang of loneliness. What good is having a great life if you have nobody to share it with?

With that in mind, you set out to (literally) make your first friend...