An Unfocused 28 year-old woman

Rebecca sighed as she redid her hair bun for the umpteenth time. She'd been sitting at this coffee shop for an hour now, trying to gather the inspiration that she hadn't been able to find while working at home. She stared blankly at the document open on her laptop, a single word paired with a blinking cursor staring back at her. Annoyed, she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

Rebecca was a 28 year-old, standing at about 5'7, with a natural pale-bronzed complexion. She had an average figure, nothing that got her much attention -- not that she hadn't managed to find a modest amount of lovers over the years. That being said, she had been single for a little over a year now, and had started to put on a little weight. Nothing that a little daily activity couldn't clear up, though part of her had wished it might go to her boobs or her ass. Unfortunately it had come to roost in her stomach. She wouldn't even think of it as pudge on a bad day, but it was definitely a slight fluff.

She had come to the coffee shop because she was experiencing writers block with her erotic novel. Tired of edging behind closed doors all day, she had decided to take a break today, get out, and try to work on something a little less spicy. Unfortunately her mind had other plans, as it kept trying to break free from horny jail.

Suddenly, she felt a small object drop on her table. Opening her eyes, she found a small notebook and pencil. The words "The Rules" embossed on the cover. She looked around, but she had intentionally chosen a private corner of the shop that nobody could just walk past her. And she hated feeling eyes on her back. There were a few baristas scuttling around tending the other patrons, but nobody that could have zipped away within the moments between her emoted annoyance and her spotting the book.

She picked it up, figuring it to be an employee handbook for the coffee shop.

Opening the first page, she was met with what appeared to be an introduction:

The world runs on rules. Schools and companies have their handbooks. Neighborhoods have their homeowners associations. Even countries have their laws. You spend all day following rules. Wouldn't it be nice if you could be the one writing the rules for once? Now you can. This is the Rulebook. Simply put the name of an organization and write your rules. Any rule you can think of will be followed by everyone in that organization.

You can write Old Rules and New Rules. People will treat Old Rules casually, like they've been around forever. The world will even change to accommodate Old Rules as you write them. On the other hand, New Rules only go into effect once you've written them down. People will still follow them, but they may express nervousness, embarrassment, excitement, or other emotions about them.

Oh, and One last tip: make sure you use a pencil. Wouldn't want you regretting your changes.

She flipped through the book, finding the rest of the pages blank and awaiting "rules."

Rebecca chuckled to herself. It was definitely some sort of weird prank. What, was it taped to the ceiling and just so happened to fall down while she was sitting there? She looked up, but could see no visible signs of tape, and the book didn't have any of the tell-tale signs of glue. 'Ah, what the hell. Sure, I'll bite.' she thought to herself, cracking open the next page after the introduction.

'So I have to write an organization name, followed by either "new rule" or "old rule?" Seems simple enough.'

She wrote the name of the coffee shop, _Cafe La Creme. _She scratched her head with the pencil, unsure of what her first "change" should be. Probably something small, but she wanted something that would be obvious if she wasn't getting pranked.

Old Rule: The dress code requires female employees to be topless at all times.

She finished writing, set the pencil down, and closed the notebook. She almost laughed out loud because it seemed like nothing happened.

At first. Just as Rebecca was getting ready to look for a hidden camera, she blinked.

The moment her eyes opened, she noticed that the Baristas had all changed. Gone were their shirts, the only covering they wore was now was an apron and a skirt. Not only that, but the Baristas themselves changed. Gone were some of the perkier, less confident Baristas. The ones that were walking around now all carried themselves with a certain confidence, similar to the average Hooters girl as opposed to a normal barista. Most of them were stacked, though some clearly didn't let their lack of endowment get in their way.

Rebecca stifled a gasp. She was somewhere between a panic attack and Christmas morning. She had been handed literal god powers.

Of course she wanted to use them to fuck around! There would be plenty of time to change the world for the better once she had changed the world for her enjoyment. Well, there were a few changes she could make that were mutually beneficial...

She made a new page immediately after the Coffee shop page. She didn't have many more designs for the coffee shop; directly. She titled the new page Women

Old Rule: Women only get pregnant when both partners will it.

Old Rule: Women only produce eggs at the time when they are attempting to conceive

Old Rule: Women do not menstruate.

She folded the corner of the page. She'd be back. She wasn't sure when the changes were going to go into effect, or if they already had. Would she even realize that an old rule changed her?

She skipped about 10 pages, made a page for men, folded the corner of the page, and skipped another 10 pages. On this one, she wrote Everyone.

Old Rule: Humans are immune to all STD/STIs.

Now with those safe-guards in place, she folded the corner, flipped about 15 pages and wrote her own name. Oddly enough, the book never seemed to run out of pages in spite of how many she should have used up by now.

Again she folded the corner, and decided to flip back to one of the earlier pages. She would have plenty of time to adjust herself later.

As Rebecca drew closer to the Women page, a grin cracked the corners of her mouth. She had a perfect idea that she needed to see play out, for her own erotic research purposes.

Old Rule: It's socially acceptable for women to masturbate in public because women are only productive when masturbating.

Rebecca's heart was racing as she wrote the rule. Satisfied with the changes so far, she set down the pencil, and closed the notebook like before.

She blinked a few times, expecting some sort of ground-shaking change. Nothing seemed to.

As she looked around incredulously, she noticed the sound of buzzing coming from the direction of the baristas. 'Maybe I should get a coffee?' Rebecca thought to herself. She looked back at her computer screen at the blinking cursor, and opened up a game of Solitaire. After a few moves she opened up the internet and began scrolling, clicking random links that caught her attention. She idly bit at the corner of a fingernail before needing the hand to type the address of a random website that popped into her mind.

If Rebecca could pay attention, she would have noticed that the Baristas had actually picked up the pace and were practically buzzing around the cafe, and things were running much more efficiently than before.

A bead of drool dribbled down Rebecca's chin, as she absent-mindedly wiped it away.

This kept up for a few attention-deprived minutes, until Rebecca ended up on her favorite porn site. She wasn't really considering where she was or what she was doing, but as she felt the familiar warmth spread through her belly, her idle hand snaked its way down her pants until it found its destination. What began as slow, secretive strokes almost immediately became rapid fingering. And with each thrust, a little more clarity returned to Rebecca. And launched straight past. One hand still down her pants, she opened up the document she had been working on before and got to work.

Within an hour (perforated by her knees going weak a few times), Rebecca had a full outline of the SFW novel she had originally come to the shop to write. Somehow, even though she had typed with only one hand for the most part, she had achieved more in the hour than she had the past week of attempts at writing.

'Oh right, the notebook, duh.' she chided herself.