(Standard disclaimer. All those in the story are over 18.)
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I woke up in a strange place with no memory. Where was I? Who was I? Why was I naked?
As I looked around, I saw a large TV in front of me, with a paused video ready to play. Ready to speak...was me.
"Hello. You don't remember who you are. That's OK. Your name is David. You are on holiday. You've paid a lot of money to be here, without any memory. This is what you...I...we...want."
"Welcome to your Blank Slate Holiday"
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48 Hours earlier -
"Do you ever wonder where they go on their annual vacation?"
My sister asked me as we sat in the living room with our takeaway pizzas.
Erica was 19, and had just finished her first year at university. She curled her naturally brunette but chemically blonde hair between her fingers as she asked me. A small amount of brown roots showing she was due to visit the hairdresser again soon. She had a curvy but short body that would probably look a lot better if she didn't love to wear baggy dungarees and hide every feminine aspect of her.
"Why do you ask?" I replied as I wolfed down another slice. I was a couple of years older than her, and trying to decide what to do with myself, after completing my BA in English Literature.
"Don't you think it's a bit weird?"
Every year for about the last fifteen, our mum and dad had gone away for a short, 7 day holiday without us. When we were younger, our aunt would come babysit us. For the past few years, we hadn't needed anyone to watch us, as long as we promised not to burn the house down or do anything too stupid.
"No" I replied, but she'd got my attention now. I turned away from the above-average movie (2 guys who don't like each other, race cars and decide they do like each other, so decide to rob a bank together, using cars) and looked at her, wondering what she was thinking about. She was pretty good at her hunches.
"Well," she began "They pack hardly any clothes for the week. Maybe just one change of clothes. Certainly not enough for 7 or 8 days. And they never talk about where they are going, or where they went. If you ask them, they usually change the subject."
That was true. I tried to think back, but couldn't remember a single place name for where they'd been.
"Plus" my sister added "They never leave a contact number for them, if there is an emergency. We have to call Aunt Louise."
"And they have the weird numbers on their hands!" I added. "Every time they get back, they've got different numbers on the backs of their hands, written in ink or some form of temp tattoo."
We sat in silence as the movie continued, until Erica picked up the conversation again.
"You know what we should do?"
"No..." I replied slowly "...What?"
"They only left yesterday. And I've learned a lot from my investigative journalism course. We should, like, investigate them."
"Then what?"
"I guess that depends on, like, where they are, and what they're doing."
"I don't WANT to know what they are doing. I can guess what they are doing." I made a circle with my left hand, and slide a finger from my right hand in and out. International sign language for fucking.
"Well, yes" she replied sheepishly. "but are they in a nice hotel? Are they hiding on some remote island in Scotland? Are they secretly nudists? Are they in some weird cult? Don't you want to know?"
I tried not to think about my parents fucking, but it was too late. Mum's hourglass body, a model 30 years ago, but now past her prime, being fucked by dad's overweight English body, his slight beer belly slapping against her.
Dad's bald head but bearded face lying on the pillow as mum slowly squats her naked pussy onto his face.
Dad jerking his cock until he shoots his cum over mum's saggy tits, some hitting her large red birthmark on her shoulder.
"Oh god" I said to Erica. "I'm imagining it".
"Imagining what?"
"Them fucking! Eww! FINE! I'll help if it distracts me from that awful mental image."
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A couple of hours of investigation got us into Dad's email account, and finding a confirmation of two separate bookings with some company called "Blank Slate Holidays".
"Why two separate bookings?" I mused to my sister. "Why not one?"
"Yeah, that's strange. Both for seven nights. But one is booked for John (Dad) and the other for Valentina (mum). And booked minutes apart."
We traced Dad's emails back a year, and found they went with the same company the year before. And the year before that. And the year before that etc. etc.
We looked at the website. It didn't have much on it. Only that it promised a unique holiday you'd never believe. The location was apparently only about 2 hours drive away.
"You know what we've got to do?" My sister asked me in a way that suggested I had no choice in this. "We should book a night there too. To find out what it is. Apparently we both get a huge discount because of our age bracket."
I lifted one eyebrow quizzically. "And how will Mum and Dad feel if when they see us? Plus it says here it's a two night minimum stay."
"They won't see us. We will be sneaky. I'm a trained investigative journalist. Well, trainee. And we can book under fake surnames or something."
"I'm not sharing a bed and pretending I'm married to you" I said flatly.
"EWWW! Disgusting. No." She stuck out her tongue in disgust. "Separate bookings, separate rooms. But look, you can't book a double anyway. It looks like it's single person bookings only."
I rolled my eyes at her. This was a bad idea.
"PLEASE David! I don't want to go alone..."
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The next day we were in the car, driving to the address given by Blank Slate Holidays. The building looked like an old shopping centre that had been converted and restored, rather than demolished. There were no big signs advertising it, and we weren't sure until we saw someone else enter the building with a suitcase.
As we'd already agreed, Erica went in first, and I waited in the car for about half an hour, before entering too. For some reason, Erica didn't want them to know we were together. Oh well. She was the journalism student, not me.
Inside the only entrance was clean and white, like a dentist's waiting room. I introduced myself at the front desk, and was lead to meet one of the consultants. My luggage was taken and I was given a little receipt for it.
"Ah, good afternoon Mr G.."
"Call me David".
The woman speaking was an attractive red-headed woman in a lab coat with small glasses constantly slipping down her nose. She was holding a clipboard. The room we were in held a doctors table and a couple of chairs. There were a few other bits of medical equipment around the room too.
She invited me to sit on a chair, and then introduced herself as Dr Decker.
"This is your first time at one of our facilities?" she asked in a friendly tone.
"Yes" I confirmed. "A friend recommended you, but he didn't go into details about what exactly goes on."
"That's not surprising" she said with a smile. "Let me explain it for you. You will be given a specific injection, that will cause localized amnesia for a set amount of time. You will not remember anything from the past. Then you will be brought into our state-of-the-art facility, where you will enjoy yourself, free from past inhibitions or memories."
I nodded, slowly understanding why the company name.
"Imagine," the woman continued, giving her standard sales pitch. "going into the cinema not knowing how Titanic will end, or that Truman is in a TV show. Imagine eating a tomato for the first ever time. Imagine your first blowjob, or your first orgasm."
She smiled to herself.
"And every guest in the facility is exactly like you. A blank slate. In the outside world they are married, divorced, widowed and carrying the baggage of a hundred bad relationships. Inside the complex, everyone is single. And everyone starts a virgin. Now how does that sound?"
"Wow" replied honestly. "That sounds...amazing."
"Exactly" she smirked. "So today, we will do some tests, give you the injections, and you'll go to sleep in one of our luxury rooms. In the morning, you'll wake up a new person."
"And after?"
"When your paid time is over, you'll be given a drug to help your old memories return. You'll still remember your time in the facility, but only in the way you remember a dream. Some bits will be clear, most will be a blur of happy emotions."
"OK" I said with a smile. "Let's get started!"
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They took my height, weight and medical history (to make sure the drug worked in the best possible way) as well as sexual history and a swab around the penis. They didn't want any STIs going round the facility. There was also a small injection into both testicles. (Temporary contraception)
Next, I was told to record a short message to myself, following an exact script.
