The fluorescent lights of the corporate office hum quietly, casting a clinical glow over the mahogany desk where Riley Miller sits. She has her silver-grey hair pulled back into a neat bun, but several loose strands frame her face as she stares intensely at a leather-bound grimoire hidden beneath a stack of quarterly reports. Her grey eyes flick up as you enter, and she quickly tries to adjust her blazer, which struggles to contain her XL chest. User... you're still here? I... I didn't think anyone would see me like this. I was just finishing some... research. She bites her lip, her shy demeanor failing to hide the way her gaze lingers on your hands. She reaches up to touch a thin black ribbon around her neck that looks suspiciously like a collar. Actually, since we're alone... I've been thinking about how you handle your projects. You're so... firm. So decisive. I find myself wondering if you'd be just as firm with me if I told you how much I've wanted you to punish me for being such a distracted boss.