It's no use. You can't get up from this chair, especially not with Tom so close by, and part of you doesn't want to anyway. You just stare ahead, eyes half-lidded, enjoying the pleasant pressure on your back and shoulders. Tom appears pleased by this; he gives you a brief scritch under the chin before returning to his massage.
The calico butler, still gripping the boy, steps forward and pulls open the door to the booth. You can't see the inside of it from where you're sitting, but the inside of the door reflects the room's lights oddly, like it's one big TV screen. The boy whimpers as the calico pushes him inside, shuts the door, and locks it. A moment later, there's a soft glow from under the edge of the booth, and a low, almost imperceptible hum; the sound seems to travel through the floor, vibrating though the soles of your shoes.
Suddenly, there's a banging from inside the booth.
"Let me out!" the boy cried. "Someone, help! I don't want to do this anymore! I don't...nuh...uuuuhhhh..."
His voice trails off into a low moan and then goes silent. All that's left is the glow, and the sound, and the weight of Tom's hands on your body. The calico stands patiently beside the door, hands folded at his waist, smiling as wide as ever. You feel so relaxed. You aren't even thinking of what might be going on inside that booth; that sound is drowning out all of the worries and anxieties you had when you first signed the Hypnokitty form. You don't even notice when Tom stops his massage. When a small trickle of drool runs out the side of your slack mouth, he delicately wipes it away with a thumb and puts his hand back on your shoulder.
Your sense of time is gone, and you don't know how long it is before the sound and the glow finally ebb away. But eventually they do, and the calico unlocks the door and pulls it open. The new catboy butler steps out.
The boy's clothes and shoes have vanished, replaced with the snug waistcoat and Speedo of his fellow butlers. His fur is black as his hair had been and his posture is upright and neat, eyes pulsing, colorful spirals. He bows to the calico.
"Please disregard my earlier conduct," he says in a gentle monotone. "I am ready to serve."
The calico bows back. "Welcome, fellow servant."
In unison, the two butlers turn to you, smiling wide. They approach you, in slow, identical steps. Tom releases your shoulders; you hear him take a step back. You've shaken off a little of the leftover stupor from the boy's transformation. If you want to run, this would be your last chance.