She is a harsh, demanding woman to all appearances, who needs to see what she'll be employing

"Into the office," Sam orders, and like a well-trained puppy you trot inside the door as it's opened. "Stand there."

Obediently you stand in the middle of the room, between the plate glass window and the set of chairs in front of a functional metal desk.

"I'll just close these so we have some privacy," Sam says, pulling a cord to make the plastic strips of the venetian blinds rotate a little.

"Now, let me look at you," Sam says, and circles in front of you.

While Sam's eyes travel over every single inch of your body you dare to take a few glances of your own. Tall and raven-haired, Sam's most notable trait is the abundant breasts she sports beneath a tight t-shirt stating 'No Pain No Gain'. Apparently in her early thirties she has a well-toned body that ripples when she moves, and a face that broadcasts no nonsense while at the same time reminding you of the evil queen in Snow White with her arched brows and sharp features.

Or - judging by her brisk commands and the way she expects to be instantly obeyed - a dominatrix.

"Clothes off!" she snaps.

"Wh... what?" you stammer and stare, cringing as she glares.

"Clothes... off..." she repeats, her low tone somehow worse than the snap. "How else am I to properly judge your musculature?"