Taylor Swift

With this amazing power, it really didn't take long for you to con your way into this prestigious celebrity therapy firm. You just had to find the right people with the right access and get them to... decide for themselves that they'd rather have you telling famous people what to do that completely tanking the entire entertainment industry.

You lean back in your nice office chair, looking at the shelves of fake books in your high-class office, waiting for your first appointment of the day. The intercom on your desk buzzes. It's Lilly, your assistant. "First appointment is here, sir." Then, in an excited whisper: "It's Taylor Swift!"

You hit the button to respond. "Very good, Lilly. Send her in."

Taylor Swift walks into your office, nervously holding a small purse. She's wearing very short denim shorts. She's wearing tight black yoga pants and a small maroon-colored T-shirt. Her chest causes the shirt to ride up and expose a bit of her midriff. Her wavy blonde hair extends to her shoulders and a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses are tucked into the waistband of her pants. She'd look like she was out for a jog or something if not for the fact that her bright lipstick matched the color of her shirt perfectly. Clearly this is some kind of very carefully designed faux-"casual" outfit. Either way, she looks smoking.

"Come in, Taylor." You smile. "Sorry, would you rather I call you Taylor or Her Majesty, Queen Taylor, The Uptight Popstar?"

Taylor blushes and takes a seat on the plush sofa. "Taylor is fine, thank you. People don't really think of me like that, do they? Am I uptight?"

"Well, that's why you're here, right? Your manager told me that you're worried people don't think you're approachable anymore. That you're too stuck-up or snobby for your normal fans. So tell me: Are you casual and easy-going, or are you an ice-cold bitch who pushes everyone away and would rather be alone?

"Casual and easy-going, of course." Taylor smiles and her demeanor changes. She was sitting stiffly on the couch, clutching her purse to her lap, but after making her choice she visibly relaxes. She puts her purse down next to her and spreads her legs slightly. She leans back, causing her little T-shirt to ride up more and fully exposing her belly button and tight stomach.

"Very good, Taylor." You pretend to make a note on a pad of paper. "Now I'm going to ask you a serious of questions... some of them might seem a little invasive, but it's all part of the process. Would you rather answer all of my questions truthfully, or would you rather never speaking again?

"I'll answer them truthfully, of course." Taylor laughs a little.

"Great." You smile at her. "Let's get started: Would you rather be secretly turned on by casual sex with relative strangers, or would you rather be secretly in a longterm physical relationship with me?"