The next morning, Kate and Stella woke up still in each other’s arms, Kate’s generous D-cup breasts gently pressing against Stella’s smaller A-cup chest.
They reluctantly left the bed and stepped into the shower together, as was their habit.
Under the stream of warm water, they gently caressed each other’s bodies.
“I like how you’ve developed in this area, Stella,” Kate murmured as she softly washed Stella’s budding breasts. The tenderness of her touch sent shivers through Stella, who responded by carefully soaping Kate’s voluptuous chest.
“Now I understand why a woman might envy another woman’s bigger rack,” Stella said with a soft laugh, her eyes fixed on Kate’s magnificent breasts.
“Don’t worry,” Kate replied, smiling. “We’re changing every day. I’m sure yours will grow just as full and beautiful.”
Stella hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Have you thought about it? About what’s happening to us?”
Kate shrugged. “Not too much. I just know I love how my body is evolving. And heterosexuality... it feels like a prison I’ve finally escaped. At first, I was laughing at those videos. But now, I think they were right. And you—what do you feel?”
“I don’t know,” Stella replied. “I feel less and less like a man, and more like a woman. This Cult of Lesbos… it draws me in. But it also frightens me. I had a vision of myself—fully female—kneeling and kissing another woman’s feet as she called me her slave. And the worst part? I enjoyed it. It’s like… I don’t know who I am anymore. Or who I’ll become.”
Kate looked into her eyes and whispered, “I had the same vision. I don’t know what it means either.” She took Stella’s hand and added, “But there’s one thing I do know. No matter what happens, you’ll always be my lovely Stella. I promise.”
They kissed more passionately than ever, their wet, warm bodies pressing tightly together, lost in the moment.
After the shower, they got dressed for work. As the day before, Stella wore women’s underwear. But this time, they didn’t want to hide anymore. Today, they decided to dress entirely as a woman. Kate helped them with makeup, choosing soft tones that enhanced Stella’s delicate features. Then she handed them a blouse, a flowing skirt, and a pair of elegant high heels.
Kate, for her part, chose clothes that highlighted her enhanced curves. Her skirt was shorter than the one she had worn the day before. She kept the same charcoal jacket and white shirt but left several buttons undone—just enough for anyone looking to notice she wasn’t wearing a bra.
As they had breakfast and got ready for work, Kate and Stella didn’t notice how much their apartment had quietly changed. It was neater, more organized, with a subtle feminine touch. A pair of heels rested by the door where men’s boots once stood. The bathroom shelf now held two sets of makeup brushes, nestled beside scented lotions and pastel-colored hair ties. In the closet, the shirts and jackets had softened in fabric and color; many of Stella’s old jeans had somehow disappeared, replaced by leggings and flowing skirts. Even the bookshelf seemed different, the titles leaning toward feminist literature, queer theory, and erotic poetry. And the framed photos on the walls now showed Stella wearing women’s clothes, even a bikini during last summer.