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Part 6: https://www.patreon.com/posts/irony-of-fate-6-110511514

Part 8: https://www.patreon.com/posts/irony-of-fate-8-110699289

Collection: https://www.patreon.com/collection/712155?view=expanded

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Part 7

Emily took a deep breath as she walked out of the break room with Michael's coffee in hand. Everyone around looked at her as if she was someone they'd never seen before - it felt weird and wrong, they all were once her employees! It made her skin crawl. She felt their gaze burning her body in this tight black dress, that hugged her curves perfectly - they all were so disgusting...

Her gaze fell on the girls whispering among themselves, who looked at her and laughed quietly. "Look how she walks," they said with a giggle. "So clumsy and insecure. I bet she was never before in such high heels," said the first. "Why she suddenly came to work dressed like a whore?" etc.

She heard their mocking whispers and laughter all around her, already regretting wearing this tight dress. 'This is some kind of fucked up...' Emily thought, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks in embarrassment.

The smell of the strong black brew reminded her of the countless mornings she had started just like this, sipping on the same bitter concoction while planning the day ahead as the powerful and feared CEO. But now, she was reduced to serving it. Her stomach churned as she approached Michael's office door.

She paused for a moment, hand trembling slightly as she reached for the handle. This was it. The plan was simple: keep herself calm, seduce Michael, get close enough to the phone. Then, somehow, find a way to reverse the swap, to get her life back. But the thought of what she might have to do to get that phone made her want to vomit.

Pushing the door open, she forced a smile onto her face. Michael was seated behind his large oak desk, his eyes narrowing with amusement as she walked in.

"Ah, there she is," Michael's voice oozed with that familiar smugness, making Emily's skin crawl. She stood in the doorway, holding his coffee, her heart pounding in her chest as she forced herself to step forward. Click of her heels echoed loudly in the small office, as she looked at her office, as it seemed to her, in which everything was so familiar and at the same time now so inaccessible.

"Well, don't just stand there like a deer in headlights," Michael snapped, irritation lacing his tone as he tapped his desk impatiently.

Emily swallowed hard, her grip on the coffee cup tightening until her knuckles turned white. She could feel his eyes on her, the same predatory gaze she had used countless times on women who had come through her office. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to move forward.

“Here’s your coffee, Mr. Johnson,” Emily said, her voice trembling slightly as she set the cup down on the desk. She hated the sound of her own voice - soft, feminine, nothing like the commanding tone she used to wield as Michael.

Michael leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he watched her. “You look different today,” he remarked casually, his gaze lingering on her cleavage for a moment before sliding back up to meet her eyes. “Did you get all dolled up for me?”

Emily forced a smile, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her. “Just trying to look professional,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. She needed to stay focused, needed to remember why she was here. Seduce him, get the phone, reverse this nightmare. That was the plan. But the way he was looking at her, the way he was smirking, made her want to crawl out of her own skin.

Michael chuckled, a low, mocking sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Professional, huh?” he echoed, his eyes narrowing with amusement. “You know, it’s funny. You were so feisty yesterday, talking all that nonsense about us switching bodies or some stupid shit like that. I almost believed you had lost your mind.”

"Maybe I was just... stressed. Overworked. You know how it is," she said softly, leaning slightly over the desk, starting to play her seduction game, trying the best as she can.

It worked and Michael's gaze automatically dropped to her cleavage, his smile widening. "Oh, I see. So, this little makeover... it’s all for me, isn’t it?" He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek before moving down to her shoulder. Emily had to swallow down the bile rising in her throat.

She forced a light laugh, desperately keeping her voice steady. "Maybe I just realized that... pleasing the boss could have its benefits. Maybe we could come to an... understanding?" Her heart pounded as she leaned in closer, praying this disgusting act would work.

Michael's eyes lit up with amusement as he slid his chair back and stood up, closing the distance between them. He moved around the desk slowly, his eyes locked on hers.

Emily’s pulse raced as Michael's hand hand brushed against her shoulder, then trailed down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "What's the matter, Emily? You seem a little... tense," His hand wandered lower, lightly grazing her hip, causing butterflies in her stomach to flutter wildly.

Emily swallowed and clenched her jaw, forcing herself to keep her composure. This was exactly what she had planned for, but now that she was in the moment, the reality of what she had to do made her skin crawl. The thought of seducing him, of allowing him to touch her like this, was almost unbearable.

Yet, she had no choice. If she wanted her life back, she had to endure this. She had to be Emily, the sexy intern who could play the game just as well as any man. She swallowed down the bile rising in her throat and forced a smile, a coquettish tilt to her head as she looked up at him through her long lashes.

"I'm just... nervous, Mr. Johnson," she whispered, her voice soft, laced with a hint of seduction. "You know, being so close to someone as powerful as you... it's overwhelming." She took a step forward, her hand sliding down his chest as she met his gaze with a shy smile. 'It's just my former body,' she reminded herself. 'It's just like jerking off myself, right? Right?...' she kept repeating this mantra in her head while feeling Michael's hands touching her waist, sliding slowly over the curves of her hips, cupping her ass.

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