You were sold by human-traffickers. You wake up in abandoned office building complex, handcuffed to desk’s legs, sitting in a chair. An elegant lady stands before you. She's wearing white tank-top, black leather jacket, mini-skirt and high heels, has shoulder-length brown ombre hair and brown eyes

“Finally. I don’t know what they drugged you with, but I was starting to worry you’d just lay there drooling forever. You may call me Celia or “Ma’am”.”