Drop to your knees.

The fight drains out of you all at once. Why resist? The need is too strong, too all-consuming. Your knees buckle and you sink down onto the cold tile floor before you can stop yourself, thighs spreading wide as if pulled by invisible strings. Your back arches automatically, chest thrust forward, nipples straining visibly against the thin white fabric. The position feels right in a way that makes your stomach churn even as pleasure pulses through you.

"I'm Amanda Torres," you breathe, looking up at him through your lashes. The words come easier now, flowing around the edge of the arousal rather than fighting through it. "I'm twenty-five. I was - I am - a PhD candidate in cognitive psychology at Portland State. I volunteered for what I thought was consciousness mapping research."

Marcus's expression shifts slightly, eyebrows rising. He glances at his tablet, then back at you. "PhD candidate," he murmurs. "That's... higher education level than the usual recruitment pool." He's still maintaining that clinical distance, but you can see his eyes tracking down your body, lingering on where your breasts push against the tank top, on your spread thighs.

"I remember the lab," you continue, fighting to keep your voice steady even as you kneel there like a supplicant. "Dr. Voss. The sensors. Going to sleep in my own body and waking up in... this." You gesture vaguely at yourself, at the obscene curves and the ****, needy position you've assumed without conscious thought. "This isn't my body. Whose body is this? Where's mine?"

Marcus taps something on his tablet, and you hear a faint chime. "Your cognitive function appears intact," he says, more to the device than to you. "Memory retention confirmed. Subject demonstrates full awareness of transfer despite conditioning protocols." He looks back at you, and there's something in his expression now - not quite sympathy, but perhaps discomfort. "You should know that the urges you're experiencing are intentional. The body you're in has been... prepared. Modified. The responses you're feeling aren't natural - they're engineered."

"I figured that much out," you manage, though it's getting harder to think. Being on your knees in front of him, looking up at him, it's making everything worse. You want to reach for him, to beg him to use you, to crawl forward and nuzzle against his thigh. The urge is so strong your hands are trembling against your own legs.

Marcus notices. He always notices. "The conditioning runs deep," he says quietly. "Neural pathway reinforcement at multiple levels. It's not something you can just... think your way past." He pauses. "Dr. Voss will want to evaluate you personally. But first, I need to complete the initial assessment."