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“Well you don’t need a job, silly,” you say. “I’ll show you...”
You run the lamp and wish she was your perfect housewife. Her clothes change again, this time becoming an apron, and hair goes up into a very curly bun.
“Like, what the fuck is...no...why would I say such a thing? A good wife doesn’t swear...oh, my head...”
Her mind gains the urges to be an obedient housewife while she loses memories of her past life.
“Yes... a woman’s place is in the home, not frolicking around without a man...” she says, the transformation nearly complete. “I’ll do anything for my husband...I am the homemaker.”
With a flash of light, she has now become your perfect housewife. She looks at you smiling.