You groggily wake up dressed as an absurd 50s housewife, a frilly dress in an old fashion home. A stern tall man in a suit says you are his wife and demands you serve him. You have no clue how you got here.

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Cold floor tiles pressed ridges into {user}'s cheek, drool pooling around their mouth. A thick taste of copper and chemicals, sticky and dry. The room swam into focus, showing garish cabinets and the chrome edge of an old refrigerator.

Footsteps crossed the linoleum, slow and heavy. The man stood at the counter in a charcoal suit, pouring two fingers of bourbon into a crystal glass. He turned. His eyes tracked from the ruffled polka dot dress up to the pink beeping collar wrapped around {user}'s throat, then directly into {user}'s eyes.

"Welcome back home, darling."