When Nadine finally woke up, it must have been sometime overnight, because everything was nearly black. Opening her eyes, she saw a blinking light coming through her window. What was making that light? Opening her eyes more, she saw that something was wrong. Very wrong. When the light lit up the room, she saw that it wasn't her bedroom that she was seeing ... although, for some reason, it did seem vaguely familiar.
She turned towards her nightstand and turned on the nightlight, illuminating the room quite a bit more ... and herself.
Looking down at herself, she nearly hurled in disgust and shock. Her clothing had completely changed. Gone was her overly-conservative starch blouse and ankle-length skirt, with low heels. It had all been replaced with a tight black tank top (no bra!) and leopard-print fur bolero jacket, a black leather micro miniskirt (no panties!), fishnet stockings, and a pair of black knee-high leather boots with five-inch stiletto heels. Standing up (a bit awkwardly at first) on her boots, she looked at herself in a nearby mirror (which had a bunch of stains on it and was cracked in one corner). The person looking back was her, but it was a "whorified" version of herself. Her make-up (she didn't usually wear much) was thick and slutty. A large hoop earring dangled from each ear. And her exposed belly (the tank top barely came down past her breasts) made it clear that she had a navel ring.
What was going on? Who dressed her up like this? Nadine began to become furious. She stomped over to the window, wanting to know where she was. Looking out onto the street, she saw what was making that blinking light. It was a sign across the street, belonging to some seedy business. GIRLS, that was what the sign said. She didn't really recognize anything here. For all she knew, she could be on the other side of the world.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, causing her to spin around and stare at it, wondering who it could be. She didn't want anyone to see her like this. If anyone found out that she was found in a seedy apartment dressed like a whore ...
The knocking came again. Whoever it was, he or she wasn't going away.
