Constance asked Marlissa what kind of model she would like to be.

"Please stand up, dear," Constance asked Marlissa.

The succubus stood up and at six feet tall without high heels she was a couple inches taller than most models. Marlissa could not help but giggle as the agent walked around the statuesque redhead to exam every minute detail of her perfect body.

"Flawless," Constance sighed. She looked over to Ryan and smirked. "You are a very lucky man to be married to a perfect specimen of the female form."

"Thank you," Ryan replied, chuckling internally knowing that the secret to Marlissa's physical perfection was an outwordly origin.

"Now, my dear, you have put me in a predicament," the agent smiled. "You have the stature of a runway model but the curves and breasts of a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model."

"Oh?" Marlissa looked baffled. "Can I not do both?" She could morph her body, changing her breast size and narrow her hips to fit in with the skinny runway models but most heterosexual men would rather lust after her ample breasts and wide hips figure.

"What about Victoria's Secret?" Veronica asked, winking at Ryan. He suddenly realized that millions men around the world would be gawking and maybe even jerking off to his wife in lingerie and tiny bikinis.

"Well, dear, what do you think?" Constance asked. "Lingerie, swimsuits, or runway?"