Brandy sat in the café chair, her heart and mind going a mile a minute. The streetlights were turning on now, making the feeling of isolation and hopelessness nearly overwhelming, she would try to closer her eyes, breathing to calm down. That didn’t really work, because she just kept thinking, *Jenny said we were friends, but then she just…left me? Where are those women she talked about? Where am I supposed to go?* Brandy looked up at the dark sky, no stars visible because of the city lights, hoping that some answer as to what to do next would appear. She was absent-mindedly playing with one of the ribbons on her dress, something to keep her hands busy while her thoughts spiraled. She felt hopeless, useless, and stupid, her dad told her she would end up alone if she transitioned, and… here she was, lost and alone on the other end of the world. She had hoped Jenny was right, that… those women she talked about would come, but now it was clear, nobody was coming for her. Thinking about that just made tears well up in her eyes, it was just too much to do alone. She needed help, but her only help just… ran away.

She was broken out of her thoughts by a waitress from the café, approaching her table, heels clacking on the stone ground, with a bright smile.

“Vuoi una ricarica?” She had dark hair, done up quite elegantly, rosey cheeks, and there wasn’t a single crease on her uniform. She was pointing at Brandy’s latte.

“Um... yes?” Brandy said, sniffling up her tears. The waitress nodded, with a cheery smile, took her frigid latte away, and went back inside. Brandy wasn’t certain what exactly she had agreed to. She didn’t have to wait long to find out. The waitress brought out a new drink. Brandy realized she had no idea if she could even pay for this. She looked around,under her chair, under the cafe table. There was a lovely black purse with white ruffles underneath. *I really hope this is mine,* she thought, opening it up.

Inside, there was another small bag, Brandy unzipped it, revealing a make-up collection, then turned her attention back to the rest of the purse, a passport, a cell phone, and a wallet. She opened the wallet, and was surprised to see there was... a lot of money in there. At least she thought so, it was all in Euros. There were also a number of ID cards, and a black credit card. She handed the credit card to the waitress, who pulled a machine out of her pocket, tapped the card to it, and handed it back, with the reciept. At least then there would be a paper trail, Brandy could make it up if she wasn’t supposed to be spending this money. She slipped the reciept in with the cash, and then, decided to take a closer look at what was in the purse. It was the only clue she really had for figuring out what she was supposed to do.

The phone was the best place to start. It could have phone logs. If she had any friends, she could call them and ask for help. Or it might even give her a way to contact... *Oh, what did Jenny say their names were...Jasmine and Diana, that’s right.* It looked brand new, and expensive. The case was a cute pink thing, with frilly patterns acceuntuated with blue and yellow stars. Brandy pressed the power button, and was presented with a locked screen. *Of course, can’t be that lucky* First, she tried the passcode she last remembered having on her phone, the last few digits of a childhood phone number. That didn’t work. Her birthday? No luck. She decided against trying any more for now, what if it locked her out? She put the phone back in her purse. Next was the passport. She flipped it open.. The photo was... striking, most ID photos made the subject look like a felon, but this photo was of a very pretty woman. Then she realized that the picture was of her... a more beautiful her, but it was absolutely her. Brandy looked at the address, it wasn’t one Brandy recognized. At least she knew where she was trying to get back to. It wasn’t even *that* far from the city she’d been living in. Worst case scenario, there was probably enough money in this wallet to buy a ticket back there. Right? Could you even buy plane tickets in cash?

Then, Brandy noticed the name, her eyes had glazed over it the first time. Of course, if this was her passport, the name would read “Brandy Thompson”. But it didn’t, it instead read “Precious Doll.” Brandy rolled that over in her mind, over and over again. *Precious Doll. Precious. My name is Precious.* It didn’t feel true. When Brandy realized she wanted to transition, she’d just feminized her birth name, hoping it would make things a bit easier for her family to accept. It hadn’t. But here was a brand new name, given to her by women she couldn’t even picture. Brandy felt that familiar lonely ache in her heart, a longing to be wanted.

*Okay, Brandy. What else do we have?*

She pulled out the wallet, carefully, not wanting to reveal to anyone who might have been watching how much cash she had on her. Then, Brandy flipped through the cards, sliding each one out of it’s thin pocket. A photo ID, under the same name. A health insurance card, which for a moment, brought a terrible idea into Brandy’s mind, *Maybe if I just get hurt badly enough, they’ll come get me?* She pushed it away, *We’ll call that idea a last resort*. The next item in her wallet was promising, it was a keycard, for a hotel. One side was white, with a black magnetic strip, the other side was black, with golden script, ‘Suite Reale’, it read. Brandy flipped the card over a couple times, hoping she had missed something, but, no, it didn’t actually say the name of the hotel where she had the room. Brandy sighed, she was just as stuck as she had been before.

Then, Brandy had another idea, it was a longshot, but if it worked, she would know where she could go. She just needed some help, she needed a phone. Brandy looked around at the cafe. Among the other patrons was a man, he was elderly, and had what looked to Brandy like a kind face. He sipped a cup of coffee, and was engrossed in a book of crosswords. On the table in front of him, was a cell phone.

Brandy dug out the credit card again, and looked at the backside. There was a service number, and the card was in her name. This might actually work. Nervously, she got to her feet, and nearly fell over, grabbing the table for balance was the only reason she didn’t immediately twist an ankle. Right, heels. Apparently not even muscle memory remained. Unsteadily, and slowly, she was able teeter her way over to the man’s table. She cleared her throat, and tried her best to look helpless.

“Hi, um, could you please help me?”

The man looked up from his crossword book, deep brown eyes in a tanned and lined face, He shrugged his shoulders, looking apologetic.“Mi scusi signorina, non parlo inglese.”

She pulled her phonee out of her purse, and waved her hand over it, trying to indicate it didn’t work. Then, she pointed at the man’s phone. He nodded, and with a toothy smile, handed his phone over. *Oh! So friendly!* “Thank you, so much!”

Quickly, not wanting to make the man wait for his phone back, Brandy tapped in the service number that was on the back of the credit card. She had expected to have to wait on hold, so it was something of a surprise when, after she entered the card number, as part of the automatic phone tree, the phone line was picked up immediately. The voice on the other end sounded like a young man, clear and professional.

“Hello, miss Doll. How may I be of service to you?” It was surprising that this person addressed her by ‘name’, but Brandy was so relieved to be getting immediate help that she didn’t question it, she had expected to have to go through a whole spiel to talk to someone who could help her.

“Oh, hi, yes, hello! Um, I was wondering if you could verify the last few purchases with my card, just to be safe?”

“Of course, miss Doll.”

The person on the other end started working backwards... two cafe purchases, some massive transfer to a private individual that Brandy couldn’t even guess about. Then, the thing she was hoping for. “Hotel Firenze.” Brandy hoped that she still had a room booked there. *Please, just let one part of this go smoothly*

“Oh yes, okay, that’s all correct! Thank you very much!”

“My pleasure, miss Doll.”

Hanging up, Brandy handed the phone back to the kindly-faced man, who smiled at her again. “Umm... Taxi?” She asked again, and he nodded. He was so generous, speaking on the phone for her. He held up his hand, all 5 fingers outstretched, “Cinque minuti,” he said. Brandy could at least understand that much, and just as promised, a taxi pulled up 5 minutes later. She really didn’t want to use any more of the money but she had no idea where she was going. Plus, in these heels she’d probably break her ankles tripping over the sidewalk before she actually got anywhere.

She slid her way into the back of the cab, the driver was tapping into a gps screen, and setting the fare display.

“Hotel Firenze,” Brandy said. The driver turned around, raising his eyebrows, and whistled, before driving off. As it turned out, the hotel was easily within walking distance, which was embarassing. She wanted to tip the driver especially well, but... the money might not be hers to spend. The hotel was a beautiful building, it looked like some kind of fancy resort, the kind of place that the ultra-wealthy would go to spend there holidays. Which made it seem all the more impossible that *this* was where she was staying. Brandy wished she had time to walk around the property, enjoy the gardens, admire the fountains. Even at night, it was all... so incredible, but she needed to know right away if she needed to find an alternative place to sleep. Brandy walked up the path, and into the building’s entrance, where a young man, a bellhop, bowed politely to Brandy as she entered. At least she looked like she belonged here. The marble floors, the high ceilings with crystal chandaliers, the incredible artwork and trim on the walls. It was so hard not to stare. It was quite strong evidence that Jenny was not an insane woman, her entire story seemed impossible, but here was proof. Somehow, Brandy had gained access to significant wealth. The woman’s story about a rich pair of Dommes made as much sense as any other explaination.

One of the buttons inside read ‘SR’. Brandy pressed that, and the elevator took her up, up, up... to the very top of the building. It opened onto a hallway. Brandy expected to see door after door. This was a hotel, afterall. But like this entire day, she was once again surprised. Apart from the stairs and fire escapes, this hall only had one wooden door with a keycard lock on it. Brandy crossed her fingers and slid the keycard through. A small light on the lock flashed green.

“Oh thank you!” Brandy said, to nobody in particular, she pushed open the door, and her breath was taken away. “My...god.” She said, starting at the luxury. This room was... enormous, everything decorated in an elegant white and gold. There was a four poster bed that was probably bigger than her entire previous apartment.. Brandy tried not to touch anything, break anything. The only thing out of place was a wooden crate marked ‘FRAGILE’ on the table...that was weird. Better not touch it.

She tried to just kick off her heels, but realized they were laced up and down her legs. Undressing was... a fight. Everything she was wearing seemed to have some sort of ribbon, bow, or lace used to attach it, and they were all hooked together to keep each piece in place. Slowly, she undressed, folding up every piece of clothing as she went. Once she was down to her underwear, she focused on something she’d noticed right away, but hadn’t had a moment to really consider until now... She was post-op. Brandy tried to figure it out... She remembered that she got surgery. But how had she paid for it? It was vague, ‘you saved up’ was all her memory was telling her. But she couldn’t remember what job she had done that had given her enough to save up, and trying to think too much more about it made that pounding headache return. It was like remembering something from early childhood. Fuzzy, uncertain, more like the idea of what had happened than any clear understanding. She remembered flying... home after the surgery? But she was completely unable to picture what home looked like.

She sighed, and went to the bathroom, washing her face clear of the expertly applied make-up. Brandy took a good long time looking at her face in the mirror. It was her, but...cuter, somehow. The shaped eyebrows? The lack of blemishes? Maybe it was how much weight she seemed to have lost... But even that didn’t account for how she just...looked better.

She started on the wig. Feeling around on top of her head, Brandy started searching through the knitted hair for all the pins that kept it attached. It took quite some time, but she thought that she finally found them all, so she started trying to lift the wig off her head.

“ow!”

She’d missed a few, and they tugged on her scalp. But she knew where they were now, that made it much easier to find and remove the last few. The handful of hairpins collected on the side of the sink, Brandy took off the wig, and noticed she was wearing some sort of cap too. It was... prickly, probably to help keep the wig on, Brandy guessed. That came off too, and, finally, she was down to her ‘real’ hair. It was short, almost shaved. Just long enough for the pins to have something to cling to. Butchy wasn’t a look she’d ever considered for herself, and looking at herself now, that just confirmed it. She was much prettier with longer hair.

Undressed, she fell into bed, she was exhausted, and quickly dropped into sleep. Her dreams were restless, fearful, uncertain. Always feeling lost and chased down.

When she woke up, restlessly, it was just barely dawn, and the phone, (her phone? Was anything hers, if she was a slave?) was flashing a little white light. It had alerts on it, but Brandy couldn’t see beyond the ‘5 unread messages’. It buzzed again. ‘6 unread messages’. Then it rang, Brandy hoped that she could just hit ‘answer’, but even with that, it was requiring Brandy to unlock the phone before it would actually connect the call. Setting the phone back on the bed, she felt sick, it kept ringing and buzzing. It was probably half an hour before it stopped.

She kept carefully watching the phone, not sure what else could happen. She felt like maybe it would, what, explode? She took a few deep breaths, trying to steady her nerves.

‘Okay, let’s get some answers.’ Brandy looked at the landline-style phone that was on a table beside her bed. Looking at the directory, she found the extention to get her in contact with the front desk. It was quickly picked up.

“Yes, miss Doll?” came a heavily accented voice over the line.

“Hi, yes, um, could you confirm my checkout time?”

“You have a car coming in 2 hours.”

“Thank you, just making sure, thank you.”

“Of course, miss Doll.” Brandy hung up the phone, and looked around. She had just a couple hours to figure out what was hers, to get dressed, everything.

She’d unzipped the wrong bag from her luggage set at first, discovering all the previous outfits and spent some time looking at them.. Even wrinkled and smelling of... sex, Brandy could appreciate the fabrics, the quality of all these clothes that were, apparently, hers. Checking the other bag and finding one last clean outfit, Brandy tried her best to dress up like ‘Precious’. Any excitement that she might have felt at these beautiful clothes was ruined when she actually started putting on any of it.... but at least she was covered, even if she couodn’t figure out how to tie them all up nicely. Neither could she get the wig to look quite as natural on her head. She had no idea what to do with all the make-up supplies... and there was the problem of the heels.

*If I wear those, I am probably going to break my own neck.* Brandy settled for wearing a pair of slippers that were packed in with a set of pajamas.

All in all, she was a disaster, like a child playing dress-up in clothes that probably cost more than she could guess...

...

She waited anxiously in the carport, and her entire body relaxed when a car pulled up, a sleek black vehicle that stopped right in front of her. Brandy moved to let herself into the backseat, but then the driver got out, and hurried to do it for her, and taking all of her bags.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Brandy said to the driver as she climbed into the back seat.

The drive gave her an odd look, but said nothing, closing the door for Brandy, and then hurrying up to the driver’s seat, before setting off, and before lone the car took her right up to an airplane. Not just the airport, but to... a small plane. A private jet.

Getting on the plane was so uncomfortable. It just felt wrong. This luxury, it was...someone else’s life. Brandy watched out the window of the plne as they took off, but once they were over the ocean, there was just...nothing to see, it was just clouds or water. So Brandy decided to try to take a nap. But she just couldn’t. It was so wrong to lay down in that bed. She didn’t deserve this, any of this. So insted, she just paced, or sat in the seats and tried to find something she could use to distract herself, for the next nine hours. Even with a TV, and the internet, it was hard to find something to take her mind off it.. Brandy was surprised to find that new television was something she could remember. It was vague, but at least she wouldn’t have to catch up on years of news and entertainment. She knew who the president was, she even remembered liking a cartoon on the streaming app. But she couldn’t remember where she watched it. With... friends? Maybe?

It was annoying to keep finding these massive gaps. But worse was that she didn’t feel anything... wrong about that. As if it were natural and normal, and she should just go on with her day. But Brandy couldn’t just...go on with her day.

*Something like this... it should feel important. I should feel the loss, shouldn’t I? But then... I can’t even remember what I should be sad about..*

That was her last thought, before exhaustion finally won out, and, uncomfortably, in a chair, Brandy’s eyes flittered shut. It was a relief when it was finally over, when the flight landed, and she awoke, and stepped out of this luxury. She had so much luggage, and was trying her best to load them into a taxi cab, when a man ran over from a small black car and waved her down,

“I’m parked right there, didn’t you see me?”

Brandy just sheepishly apologized, as the new driver took her bags out of the taxi. At least it wasn’t more of the money she’d have to spend.

Sitting in the back of the car, Brandy vibrated. This was it. She was on her way to meet...Them. Lost in her anxiety, a telephone ring from te front of the car made her jump startled. The driver pressed his headset button and spoke to someone on the other side.

“Yes, Mistress. Yes, Mistress. 20 minutes, Mistress. Yes, Mistress.” Then, he stopped speaking. The rest of the drive was silent. They drove around the city, avoiding the traffic. On the outskirts of the city, the car pulled down a private road, and up to a magnificent mansion. At any other time, Brandy would have been awed. But as it was, she was just nervous, and couldn’t truly appreciate the beauty of the grounds, or take in the grandeur of the mansion.

Brandy stepped out of the car, while the driver went around to the trunk, and started wheeling away her bags to... Brandy couldn’t even guess where.

The world faded away, as Brandy slowly walked up the path, up the stairs, and stood in front of the massive, beautifully carved wooden door, with ornate handle, door knocker, and a speaker system.

*Time to see what I got myself into*

Brandy took a deep breath and opened the door, then, carefully closed it behind her. The main entrance was even more extravagant than anything else she had seen over the last day. There was a desk, for greeting people. But nobody sat there. In fact, there were only two other people in the entrance hall. There was no question about who they were. Brandy got her first glimpse at the women she had apparently sold herself to. They were both incredibly beautiful. A dark-haired woman in a tailored suit, and a blonde-haired woman in a lavender-colored dress, with floral patterns stitched across the entire thing. A silver tiara rested on her head. They were facing towards each other, hands clutched together, the blonde resting her head on the chest of the dark-haired woman, looking quite distraught. She noticed Brandy first. The woman in the suit turned her head, following her partner’s eyes. As soon as her gaze fell upon Brandy, she broke the embrace, she started marching towards Brandy, screaming all the while.

“What in the world is *wrong with you*!?” The businesswoman’s face was twisted into the very image of wrath, “Why didn’t you answer any of our messages?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! We thought you had been hurt until the driver called us! Diana was worried sick!” *This is Jasmine, that’s Diana,* Brandy thought, trying to absorb anything she could about the life she apparently had here. Jasmine kept screaming as she marched through the room, getting closer and closer, as Brandy shrunk, this women’s anger terrifying. “Then, to make things even worse, you left the piece at the hotel, you brainless ingrate!! **Then** you finally turn up, and you show up dressed like *this*? I don’t even know where to begin! Your clothes are barely on, that pathetic attempt at wearing your hair! My god, are those slippers?!? I expected so much better from you! We trusted you, and you spat that trust right back in our faces! You had best believe you are going to be punished! I haven’t even begun to think of how I am going to start! You’ll be lucky if you are allowed to step foot outside of this mansion ever again!”

Jasmine had crossed the entryway by the time she had finished screaming. Diana had followed, but always stayed a few steps behind her wife.

Brandy just stared, frozen with fear. What could she even say?

“Well?! Do you have anything to say for yourself!?”

“I’m, I’m sorry!”

“I’m sorry…?!” She seemed to be expecting Brandy to say something more.

“I’m…sorry, I couldn’t contact you?” Brandy hoped she’d said the right thing. Apparently not. Jasmine smacked Brandy across the face, it stung. She put her hands up to protect herself from more blows. None came. Slowly, cautiously, Brandy let her guard down. Diana had turned her face away. The businesswoman was looking down at her, a cold glare. Her next words were a hiss from between her teeth.

“Mistress! ‘I’m sorry, Mistress! I’m sorry, Your Highness!’ The barest minimum of any kind of apology, and you can’t even manage that! Have you forgotten *everything* we taught you?!”

“Yes!” Brandy said, louder than she’d intended.

Jasmine blinked. Apparently, that surprised her. She didn’t look any less angry, but she stopped screaming. Her eyes were scanning Brandy’s face. For what? Deception? Brandy took the chance to keep speaking.

“I’m sorry, um, M-Mistress? I just… I don’t remember anything.”

The woman crossed her arms, “Explain yourself. Now.”

Brandy detailed everything as best she could. Her last clear memories of being fired and needing a new job… then feeling like she was waking up from a dream she couldn’t remember, with a splitting headache. How confused she was. Everything that Jenny told her, explaining how she found her way back to the mansion. Slowly, as Brandy shared the story of the last two days the expressions on both women shifted. Jasmine’s expression was unreadable, but Diana was seething.

“After everything we did for her…I am going to track down that… little… how dare she…” Diana muttered under her breath, while shaking with fury. They were still angry, but Brandy was relieved that at least it wasn’t directed at her. She chanced speaking again.

“What, um, what happens to me now?”

The two women looked at each other, as if speaking telepathically. Diana answered the question. “We will…discuss it with each other. Go to your room.”

They indicated that she should leave, but Brandy stared blankly. “Sorry, I…don’t know where that is.”

Brandy couldn’t make out the expressions on the faces of the two women. Frustration? Disappointment?

“You.” Diana said, gesturing at a maid, who stopped dusting the various trinkets on display in the entrance. Brandy hadn’t even noticed that a maid had entered the room during her explanation. The maid curtseyed to the Mistresses of the mansion. *What a cute uniform! Did… I really wear that?*

“Take Prec-” she stopped and began again. “Take *her* back to her room.”

“My pleasure, your Highness!” the maid happily replied.

Jasmine addressed Brandy again, in a softer tone this time, “We’ll be there as soon as we decide what we are going to do.”

“This way, please, Miss.” The maid said. Brandy watched for a moment longer as Jasmine and Diana walked away, up the grand staircase in the entrance, leaning into each other, whispering, and holding hands. The maid led her through the immaculate halls. Brandy had hoped that something would seem familiar, that maybe something would jog her memory, and this place would suddenly be familiar, and feel like home. But that didn’t happen, as the maid stopped in front of a door, as unfamiliar as the rest, standing to the right of it, her hands gently clasped in front of her, her head bowed.

“Th-thanks”.

Brandy stepped inside, not even thinking to close the door behind her. The room looked perfectly set up. The floor, the furniture, everything was like a showroom. The soft pastel colors were cute, but also, in their own way, classy. Just inside, a loveseat and a few chairs provided a sitting area. There was a magnificent 4 poster bed against one of the back walls, with beautiful purple silk sheets and curtains, Brandy’s favorite color. There was another closed door inside the room, that Brandy didn’t feel right opening, and then a sliding door that Brandy guessed was her closet, but none of this felt like ‘hers’. Brandy paced around the room for a bit, before sitting down on the bed. *No idea how long I’ll be waiting. I should probably at least be comfortable. I’m so tired, I don’t know what’s happening, or what’s going to happen I just, I just-*

She was pulled out of her own thoughts by a loud shout. “PRECIOUS!” A woman in a massive pink gown, like a prom dress, rushed into the room, and leapt onto the bed, hugging Brandy so forcefully she fell backwards.

“I missed you, like, so much! Why were you gone? Why aren’t you wearing any make-up? Oooh! Can I do your make-up?!”

Her voice was a loud, airheaded squeal. Brandy was startled, by the noise, by the sudden touch, by this absolute stranger completely invading her personal space. Brandy didn’t mean to, it was more instinctive than anything, but she pushed the girl away, forcefully, causing the mass of ruffles and lace to tumble off the bed.

“Ouch! Why did you do that, Precious?” She groaned, moving to sit on her knees and look up at Brandy with vacant eyes and a pout.

“Sorry, sorry, I just, I’m really overwhelmed right now!”

“Ohhh, that’s okay!” She grinned, her hurt apparently immediately forgotten, “I can like, totally fix that!” The girl stood up and beamed down at Brandy, “I might be like, a total dummy, but that’s something I know how to do for my dolly! Into the dollhouse!”

Brandy stared at the girl. Her vacant smile started to fade.

“Umm…Into the dollhouse?” The girl said again. When…whatever she was expecting to happen didn’t, she pouted, confusion spreading across her face, somehow making her look even stupider.

“Into the dollhouse!” she yelled at Brandy. The bimbo looked at her expectantly, again. Brandy guessed it was some kind of order, like a code phrase *What am I even supposed to do when she says that?*

“Um…Why do you keep saying that?” Brandy asked.

“Oh…Oh no! It’s not working! Precious, are you broken?!”

“I’m sorry…Sorry, I’m not...” She was about to say that she wasn’t ‘Precious’, but that wasn’t exactly true. She considered telling the girl that she didn’t remember anything about being Precious, then maybe she could talk to this person who apparently knew her and ask questions about who she was supposed to be here. But… maybe it was best to wait until she learned if she was even going to be allowed to stay.

So, Brandy settled on simply telling her, “I’m really sorry, but I’m not your doll.” Brandy had tried to be delicate, but she could see the tears welling up in the airhead’s soft brown eyes already.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay…”

Brandy reached out her hand but couldn’t even imagine what she could have done to help.

“…Maybe I’ll be fixed when you come back later? I’m waiting for your… for our… for Mistress.”

“Oh! I’ll come back later! I hope you get to have lots of fun!” the girl bubbled, and curtseyed, and wandered off.

Brandy sighed and looked aimlessly around at the room again. At least the girl in the pink dress had been someone to talk to. Now Brandy was alone again, just waiting to find out what her fate would be. Her stomach was in knots, even how comfortable the bed wasn’t helping to settle her uneasiness.

It was over an hour later, when the Mistresses of the mansion finally came to speak with Brandy, knocking gently on the open door of the bedroom.

“Hello. We’re ready to speak now.” They walked in, not waiting for Brandy’s reply, Diana entered first with Jasmine following protectively behind her. Brandy stood up and moved to the single person chair. The two women sat down in the loveseat together. Their chosen seats didn’t place them directly across from each other, but it was close enough to feel intimidating.

“Um… a girl came here, I think I hurt her feelings, I’m sorry.”

“Describe her,” Diana ordered, and then added, in a much less demanding tone, “please.”

“Pink dress, not very smart.”

“Ah, yes, our princess, Clara. No matter. She’ll have forgotten as soon as anything else captures her attention. I am certain your friendship will survive.”

“Friendship?”

“Oh… yes, you are rather close. I wanted you to be.” The woman looked sad.

Brandy didn’t really know what to say to that, so she stayed quiet. Brandy would look at the two beautiful women, trying to feel anything more than just simple attraction to them. But whatever they had been to her before, it was gone now. The two of them watched Brandy, intently. Then, Diana spoke.

“You came back. You forgot everything, but…you came back. Why?”

“I came back because… I needed to know if it was all true.” After a moment, she added “Your Highness” to the end of her sentence. It was stilted, clearly an afterthought, but still, Brandy thought she saw Jasmine’s lips twitch upwards at the corners. “What… Jenny said. That I was a maid and all the rest. I needed to know if you were real.”

Jasmine frowned, “She failed to include some rather important details, but, in the broadest strokes, yes. It’s true. You were our maid. Then, you sold yourself to us.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t remember.”

Diana continued “Your memories of your time with us, they are still in your mind. They are simply hidden away from you. That said… It will take a lot of work to bring them back. That trigger, it is not meant to be undone. If… *she*,” the emphasis made it sound like saying ‘Jenny’ would be like uttering a swear word, “hadn’t told you everything immediately after using it....”

Jasmine picked up the conversation, seamlessly “But that doesn’t matter. You came back. As far as I am concerned, even if you don’t remember it, you belong to us. My wife, however, offered a perspective I hadn’t considered.”

Diana had recollected herself, and continued. “The woman who agreed to sell herself to us… she knew what she was getting into and wanted it. But you? Where else would you have gone? Under these circumstances…you are, in essence, an entirely different person from the one that signed a contract with us. You should be offered a choice. You can stay, and we will work to restore your memories. Or…” Diana clenched her hands into fists, like it was taking every bit of self control she had to contain…something. Jasmine put a hand on her wife’s thigh, and Diana relaxed, but Jasmine picked up where she had left off,

“Or we will provide you with everything you need to return to a normal life. You will, of course, be sworn to silence, in a legally binding agreement. We would return your earnings while you were our maid to you. You should be able to more than establish yourself again with those.”

Brandy took in everything Jasmine said. She could take what sounded like a lot of money, and just go live her life. She could live wherever she wanted, maybe go back to school. Looking like this… she probably wouldn’t struggle to find a partner, either. She thought about that…thought what she would want her life to look like. If she could have everything she wanted, what would she do?”

There was only one thing that really mattered.

“Did you care about me? About Precious?”

“Yes.” Jasmine said simply, with force behind the words.

Diana’s voice was equally unwavering, “Of course. You’ve always become exactly what we wanted you to be. How could we not care for you?”

“Then… I want to stay here.” The two women seemed…relieved? Excited? Diana’s eyes were watering.

“It occurs to me,” Jasmine said, “we never asked this question when we first offered you the opportunity to join our harem. We simply assumed we knew the answer. It seems much more relevant now. Why do you want to do this?”

Brandy didn’t stop to think, she just let her heart speak.

“I enjoy…doing things for other people, making them happy. Just having to obey orders, and never having to worry about… anything except what you want me to be? That sounds great. The… brainwashing, Like, I don’t have a choice except to do what you want, be what you want? That all sounds… perfect. You said I had friends here, and I never really had like, close friends before. But even more than that… you cared about me. I was wanted, and I was safe. I think I loved you both, how…how could I not? It sounds like…the best thing in the world. And…just look at me, you gave me everything I ever wanted. I’d do anything just to repay you for that, I’ll do anything you want. I just want the chance to be yours… again. Please.”

The pair took a moment to look at each other in the eye, and then stood together, walked across the room, until they were standing directly in front of Brandy. They each took one of her hands, and gently encouraged her to stand. Brandy looked down, trying to seem subservient.

“Look at me,” Diana said. She used her other hand to gently lift Brandy’s chin, “Who am I?”

“You are…” Brandy paused and took a moment to think about what Diana wanted to hear. This was a chance to please this beautiful woman. “You are my owner, Your Highness.” Diana smiled; the warmest smile Brandy could remember ever seeing in her entire life. She wondered if her missing memories were filled with this smile.

“That’s right, Precious.”

Jasmine lightly rested an index finger under Brandy’s chin, the manicured nail tickling at her. Brandy turned her head to look at Jasmine.

“And who am I?”

“You are my owner, Mistress.” Jasmine smirked, but there was something tender behind it, all the same.

“That’s right, my obedient plaything.”

They held her hands and walked, pulling Brandy over to the bed. Together, all three of them climbed into the sheets.

They started kissing her on each side of her neck, Jasmine bit down on occasion, making Brandy gasp and whimper… in tandem, they worked to remove Brandy’s disastrous attempt to wear Precious’ clothing, Jasmine had lowered herself down so she could kiss and nibble at Brandy’s thighs as they pulled the dress up over her head, and tossed it off to the side, immediately forgotten. It was intense. She barely knew them. But they knew her. They knew her body. Each touch was masterful, each kiss sent shocks through her body,

“We’re going to break your mind, over and over again,” the queen said, rubbing between Brandy’s legs.

Brandy nodded, drooling down her chin, already completely lost in pleasure, ‘pl-please…’

Jasmine grabbed her hair, and forced Brandy to look directly into her eyes, “You’re going to be exactly what we want you to be, aren’t you?”

“yes, yes, yes, anything,” Brandy gasped out.

“Such an eager plaything, even without all her conditioning,” Diana laughed, tenderly. “I cannot tell you how happy I am that you chose to stay, Precious. You mean…so very much to us.”

For the first time… at least, as far as she could remember, ’Precious’ felt like her name.

Here, she was Precious, and that’s all she’d ever wanted to be.

The End.