She goes for the promotion

I can't really be considering this! I love Tom, he's my husband, he's... cried out the remnants of her old life.

Shut up. This new voice was stronger, younger, and far more in control. You've had your life, but this one is mine, and we do with it what I want. Now sit in the passenger seat and shut the fuck up.

Getting quieter by the minute, the older voice tried one last protest. This wish is only temporary! At midnight tonight, you'll turn back into me and you'll regret this!

The response was a cold and cruel laugh. You absolute fucking idiot. No I won't, and no you won't. Remember that wish? Nothing we do while under the effect of a wish is something to regret or feel bad about. Besides, it was your precious husband who decided I should be a young, hot piece of ass eager to get what she wants. This is the natural outcome of that, he has no room to complain.

With that, the argument was over. The real Sarah could still object, but it was clear that the personality in charge wasn't going to take anything she said seriously. And once she'd done what she wanted, Sarah wouldn't even mind it. I'm sorry, Tom. It was the only apology he was ever going to get from her.

With a confident smile on her face, once lunchtime came around Sarah didn't even think of heading to meet with her "husband". What would be the point? No, she needed to go and see the top dog. Professor Waxly was in his office as she approached, and from the lecherous smile on his face, it was clear he had been expecting this.

Waxly was, unfortunately, a bit of a downgrade from Tom. In his early sixties, the aging professor wasn't too wrinkled, but his hair was almost entirely gone, and from what Sarah could tell he'd never been a particularly attractive man. His smile made that even worse, there was nothing to it but a lust for what he saw before him, which even the new Sarah wasn't exactly fond of seeing. "Ah, there you are Professor Wynne. I see you got my email."

"I did indeed." Instead of taking the chair on the opposite side of his desk, Sarah leaned in, showing off her cleavage as best as she could, arms crossed underneath for extra accentuation. "After seeing your advice, I thought it would be best to redirect my attentions towards the more...appropriate target."

For some reason, he frowned at her. It became clear why he was unhappy when he hissed, "Not here, you empty-headed bimbo." He grabbed a memo pad from his desk, quickly wrote out an address, and ripped it out for her. "This address, eight pm." Then he waved a wrist at her, as if shooing away a child.

Annoyed, Sarah left the office with a strange emptiness. Sure, she did what she did for the power, but the sex was good too. She had been expecting to enjoy it on her lunch break, even if it had to be expedient. Of course, there was someone who would be willing to fuck her brains out...but did she really even want to do that now? She'd get nothing out of it.