Linda Harrison tapped her foot at the bottom of the stairs. Where was that girl? She looked at her watch again, then back towards the top of the stairs. "Wendy! Get down here! You have school!"
She heard a grunt and the padding of feet. And then her 17-year old daughter was in sight, dressed in the most awful of outfits: a tube top and micro miniskirt. She was even wearing heels. She looked so ... slutty.
"Oh, no you don't, young lady," Linda told her daughter. "You march right back in your room and put on something proper. I'm not going to let my only daughter go out looking like a skank."
"But mom ..." Wendy whined.
"No buts. Now get changed. Now!"
Wendy grunted, then walked back to her room and slammed the door.
Linda turned away from the stairs and walked into the kitchen. What's gotten into that girl lately? Just a few days ago, she was the normal conservative Wendy she had raised and always known. But now, she was completely different.
She turned around and looked towards the stairs when she heard someone walking down them. There was the Wendy she always remembered: T-shirt, blue jeans, sneakers.
"Have a good day at school, honey," she said.
"Whatever," Wendy said, before leaving the house and slamming the door behind her.
Linda frowned. Her daughter was usually in a good mood. But now ... she seemed to be angry all the time. Well, angry with Linda. Could it be drugs? Wendy didn't seem to be the type of girl to fall into that sort of thing. Linda always reminded her to stay away from drugs and cigarettes and alcohol. She was a sweet kid and always did as she was told. But now ... she was different. And it all happened just within the last few days. How could it not be drugs?
Wanting to make sure, Linda walked upstairs and then into her daughter's room. The room itself didn't look any different. But what was different about it was actually hidden from view. She opened the closet and was shocked to see that Wendy's clothes had been replaced (well, the usual stuff was actually moved to the side, out of view). What she saw was similar to what Wendy tried to get away with wearing to school that morning. Tube tops, halter tops, tight baby-T's, tank tops, miniskirts, micro miniskirts, short shorts, and some other things that Linda didn't even recognize or know the name of. It was all so racy, so revealing. Where did her daughter get all of these clothes? She just figured that what Wendy was trying to wear that morning was just something she borrowed. But on closer examination, some of the outfits in the closet still had price tags on them. Her daughter bought these.
Maybe it was drugs afterall.
She took a few steps back and accidentally bumped into her daughter's desk, on which sat Wendy's computer. The vibration moved the mouse and the monitor screen came on. Linda nearly fainted from shock. Sometimes her daughter left websites up on her screen. But usually it was something harmless, like a boy band website or forum site. This time, to Linda's horror, it was a porn site. And the movie was still playing, showing a girl no older than her daughter giving some guy a blowjob! She quickly stopped the movie and shut down the internet browser.
"What's happened to my daughter?" she whispered.
She looked down and saw that one of the desk drawers was slightly open. So she pulled it and got another shock. Inside the drawer was ... a dildo. And next to it was a small vial of some pale red liquid.
Slowly, Linda lifted the bottle out of the drawer and looked at it. Could this be the drug that Linda was thinking of? Did this change her sweet daughter into this sex-crazed creature she now was?
She held it up and looked closely at it. It looked generic. Just a plain white label with one word in big black capital letters: FRUITFUL.
"Fruitful?" Linda asked aloud. It's not what she expected it to say, that was for sure.
She turned the bottle around and saw on the back that there was more writing, only a lot smaller: DO YOUR PART TO SAVE HUMANKIND.
"Huh?"
