“Ugh, my head,” Jack moaned as she twisted and turned on the bed, fighting to push away the sleep. Her voice sounded completely off, which felt like it should mean something to her, but her mind felt sluggish, like she’d been drinking all night with the girls. The girls? Was that right? Something about that felt wrong, but Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on it. She propped herself up on her arms and felt a significant weight pull at her chest. Did she Have to go that big? Her sugardaddy had pair for them so he got to chose how big she went. She couldn’t really complain though, she’d always liked standing out in a crowd and there was no way she was going to go unnoticed with her H-cup breasts.
“Wait, what?” Jack said out loud before jumping off the bed and running to the bathroom. She turned on the lights and stared at her reflection. Information started to bubble up, though she still felt sluggish. She was really Jack a … a cop? She knew she had some sort of special title, but couldn’t really think of it at the moment. She remembered the chief bri…bri… ugh, big words. She shook her head. She remembered the chief telling her about her mission at Scores, where she danced. Wait, no, that wasn’t right, she hadn’t worked at Scores before, had she?
Jack rested her hands on the sides of the sink and closed her eyes to try to sort through her jumbled mind. She … hold on, when did she start thinking of herself as a she? Jack is a guy’s name. She used to be a man before. “He” didn’t feel right though. It was so confusing. “My name is Carolyn Monroe. No! That’s not it, that’s my stage name! My real name is … Carol Lynn Moore. No! That’s not it! Ugh!” Try as she may, she couldn’t remember her original name.
This was all so disconcerting it was giving her a headache. She rubbed at the sides of her temples and tried to think back to her training. She could remember learning to dance and the first time she got on the pole. Her eyes went wide, that wasn’t her police training at all. She could remember how to shake her ass for the crowd and how to give a client a great lap dance, but she couldn’t remember any of her training.
Worse than that, when she thought of her acad… her school smarts she couldn’t remember anything from college even though she was sure she’d gotten a degree. What was her degree on? All she could remember was dropping out of high school after it was obvious she couldn’t keep up with any of it.
Was she really that dumb now? The headache she was getting from all that thinking gave her her answer. She looked at the woman in the mirror. She was beautiful in a way that invited lascivious thoughts. Her extraordinary breasts were certainly her dominating feature, but with her long legs, thick, pouty lips and sparkling blue eyes it was no wonder she was a stripper.
“Score’s!” She had to get there. Her mission was to … to … what was her mission?
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