As a cat burglar in Gotham City.

Knock, knock, knock!

“Rhiain, you in there? The contest is about to begin, hurry up. Rhiain?”

Samantha hears a loud rapping against a door and an unknown voice. Her head is swimming as she tries to regain consciousness.

At first all she can discern is that she is one her back on some hard surface and she is a bit chilly. Reaching up to rub her eyes her arms barely function. As she rubs them she realizes her glasses are gone. Letting her arms drop to her side they pass by her body and land on a cold floor beneath her. It appears she is on some sort of bench. Blinking her eyes they slowly begin to focus. At first all she sees is light, but as her vision clears she is looking up at florescent lights on a tiled celling, the one’s you would find in a large bathroom.

Tilting her head to one side she is clearly in some sort of locker room. She is on a bench near a jacuzzi and appears to be alone.

The last thing she remembers is falling **** at the armory just after rolling up a D&D character. But why is she is in this locker room? Looking to the other side she sees a small row of lockers. The room isn’t familiar to her, though it is very clean and the furnishings are of very high quality, the type one would find in a very exclusive gym.

Staggering to her feet is difficult and takes several tries. Samantha’s muscles slowly return to function as she takes a few steps into the locker room. The cool floor on her feet signals that she is barefoot. As her vision finally comes into full focus she is startled by coming face to face with another woman.

“Oh, sorry.” Samantha apologizes. The stranger is a shockingly beautiful woman wearing a skimpy burgundy thong bikini. “They have to be fake.” Samantha can’t help to think to herself as she notices the size of the woman’s breasts, which Samantha judges as being too big for such a tiny little waist. Though clearly a slut to be wearing such a revealing bathing suit Samantha tries to be polite. “Could you tell me where I am?”

The stranger mouths some words as Samantha talks, but makes no sound. “Hello, are you there?” With frustration Samantha asks, thinking she is being mocked like all those cheerleader types use to do back in high school. As she waves so does the stranger. Then it dawns on her she is looking into a mirror.

“What an idiot.” She laughs at herself.

“WAIT! What the fuck!” Samantha uncharacteristically swears as the full implication of what she is seeing finally hits her. Looking down at her chest she gazes on her own cleavage. Her A cup breasts are gone, instead two very large and firm tits, barely clad in a tiny burgundy string bikini top, greet her shocked eyes.