Try to Take the Commands Farther

You let a few more women on the sidewalk pass you until you spot a brunette in business attire -- silk blouse, knee-length skirt, stockings -- walking as she talks on a cell phone.

You match her stride for a few paces until you're opposite the alley where you arrived. "Stop and say your goodbyes," you order.

It's only now that she appears to notice you, and you can hear her gulp loudly before saying "Bye, gotta go," then taking the phone away from her ear and jabbing at the "end call" button on the screen with a manicured nail.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the man and woman from earlier exiting the alley -- maybe slinking out is more like it -- and walking in opposite directions.

"Take off your blouse," you say.

"Yes, sir," she replies, quickly undoing the buttons, pulling it off, and holding it awkwardly in one hand while you eye her. She's got a nice flat stomach and a narrow waist, but her black lacy bra isn't covering up much. It looks like she's barely an A-cup.

Of course, you chose her precisely because her breasts looked small. You wanted to try something. You hold your hands about eight inches in front of your chest and demand, "Grow your tits out to here."

A look of fear crosses her face.