A red evening gown with matching lingerie.

There is a gown on your bed that is the most beautiful garment you’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s a strapless number and a bit higher than you would normally wear, but something in your head tells you that this is the dress that you’ve always dreamed of. Next to it is a lacey teddy with crotchless panties and lace up front. You also notice that there is a pair of high stockings and stiletto heels that also match.

You see a note next to it and you pick it up trembling. “To my youngest whore. Tonight you will finally fulfill your deepest desires. Ladies of the evening must wear the proper color to advertise their wares”

Why are you not repulsed by this? Blankly, you begin to strip and put on each article of clothing as though it were a ritual you had done millions of times before. You were bred to do this. It is your destiny. “What is my destiny?” you think to yourself. It’s as though you are having an argument with another being inside your brain. The more you question it, however, the dizzier you become. You have just connected the right leg stocking to the leg suspender when you’re suddenly hit by a flash of memory.

You remember being strapped to a hard metal table and a large light is shining down into your eyes. Two or three people resembling doctors are poking your body. “You’re sure she won’t remember anything?” a voice asks. One of the doctors looks up to someone you cannot see and says, “The main point of our services is to erase her past. We place her in the proper environment and when our controller gives her the proper release agent, she’ll act accordingly.” The first voice chimes back in, “but she will not remember her past at all? I mean, I don’t need someone knocking at our door asking why we did this or that to them several years from now.” “Enough,” the doctor replies, obviously irritated by the constant interruption, “you have been well paid. This woman is no longer your natural born daughter and you can be sure that she will have no reason to ever search you out. She will have a fully different life from now on. Now please, take your check and leave.” The last thing you see is some large breathing apparatus being lowered over your mouth before you suddenly come back to your room.

There is a knock at your bedroom door and you see your mother, or at least the woman you thought was your mother, dressed in a matching red gown. The slit up the side is more prominent than you had thought as it showed a glimpse of the lace lingerie underneath. “They say mother daughter teams are all the rage these days. Ready to go burn the city down, sweet heart?”