Kneel on the floor before your superior

You lower yourself to your knees in front of Mr. Smith, aware of his eyes on you, and conscious of his proximity.

You spread your knees wide, so that they're touching the soles of his shoes, cross your wrists behind your back, and lower your head submissively.

You let out a ragged breath. This is a posture you've long fantasized being **** to assume - the posture of a **** girl, kneeling at the feet of her Master. And here you are. It's real.

You gaze down at your soft breasts, your stiff nipples, your creamy thighs, spread wide. Just yesterday, Jonathan was imprisoned in this body. You gave him your body, in exchange for this...this exquisite, fragile, feminine thing...and then he did things to you you'd only dreamed of, to demonstrate to you how appropriate it is that you're Sophie now.

And now, less than twelve hours later, you're a naked secretary in some corporate office, at the beck and call of this executive, whom you've given the right to use you as he sees fit.

Mr. Smith puts his hand under your chin, lifts it up.

He looks down at you, smiling.

“Very good, Sophie.” He takes a sip of his drink, smacks his lips. He unfastens his belt buckle and unzips his fly. He pulls out his half-stiff cock. “Now show me you know what to do with this.”