Kate’s phone buzzed with a message from Annie. She glanced at the screen and read:
“I forgot to tell you—I just moved into a new apartment. Here’s the new address. Don’t worry about dessert, we already have everything. Patrick and David are already here. We’re waiting for you.”
With everything that had happened over the past few days, Kate and Stella had completely forgotten about Annie’s dinner invitation. For a moment, Kate stared at the message, unsure if she had the energy to be social. But Stella gently touched her shoulder and smiled.
“Maybe a dinner with friends is exactly what we need.”
They both went to the bedroom to get ready. Kate chose a crimson wrap dress that hugged her curves, leaving her shoulders bare and her neckline daringly low. Her makeup was bold and polished, her lips painted a deep purple to match her blue hair. She wore no bra, as always, letting the natural shape of her full breasts speak for itself.
Stella opted for a soft off-the-shoulder lilac top and a cream-colored pencil skirt that framed her hips elegantly. She wore sheer stockings and delicate pearl earrings, and styled her long brown hair into soft waves cascading down her back. Her makeup was subtle, but expertly applied, highlighting the feminine features she had once hidden.
They climbed into Kate’s car and followed the GPS to Annie’s new address. To their surprise, it led them to a quiet, tree-lined street in one of the city’s wealthiest neighborhoods, an area far beyond what Annie had ever been able to afford. They exchanged a glance, puzzled.
“This can’t be right,” Stella murmured.
“It’s the address she sent,” Kate said, parking the car. “Let’s see.”
They stepped out and walked up the stone steps of an elegant apartment building. The entrance was marked by a brass intercom and framed in ivy-covered marble. As soon as Kate reached for the bell, the door opened from within.
Standing there was Louise, dressed head to toe in a classic French maid outfit—black dress, white apron, lace choker, and matching headband. Her makeup was immaculate, her lips painted a deep wine red, and she curtsied when she saw them.
“Welcome, mesdames,” Louise said with a soft smile. “Our mistress is expecting you.”
Kate and Stella blinked in surprise. “Mistress?” Stella whispered.
Louise stepped aside and gestured for them to enter. The apartment was breathtaking. It wasn’t just large: it was lavish. High ceilings with ornate crown molding, velvet drapes, polished hardwood floors, and crystal chandeliers. The air smelled faintly of roses and sandalwood. A low instrumental version of Debussy's Clair de Lune played softly from hidden speakers.
They looked at each other, stunned.
“This place is... incredible,” Kate murmured. “How can Annie afford this?”
“She couldn’t even afford takeout a month ago,” Stella added. “Something’s different.”
As they stepped further inside, they noticed the decor:
The décor was unapologetically sensual. Paintings of nude women floated across the walls in dreamy, surreal scenes that hovered between the erotic and the divine. Marble statues of voluptuous goddesses stood in alcoves, faces upturned in ecstasy, their hands reaching toward the sky or caressing another's form. Every object, every detail felt like part of a carefully curated altar. This wasn’t just decoration. It was devotion. A religious celebration of female power and lesbian love. But the décor wasn’t the most shocking thing in this apartment.
From a side hallway, two naked women came bounding toward them on all fours—moving fast, fluidly, like trained animals. Kate and Stella instinctively stepped back. The two creatures that appeared weren’t quite human.
One had fiery red hair and pointed feline ears that twitched with excitement. Green eyes with slit pupils gleamed in the dim light, and whiskers twitched along her cheeks. Red fur trailed down her back and spine, and a long cat tail swayed gracefully behind her. Most striking were her three pairs of breasts, arranged in descending size along her torso: the topmost, a full and perky C-cup, followed by smaller B-cup and A-cup sets beneath. Around her neck was a sleek black collar, and hanging from it was a medallion—a photograph of the man this catgirl use to be: their friend Patrick.
The other figure crawled beside her, silver-haired, with floppy canine ears and a soft, wagging dog tail. Her face was still mostly human, though her nose had reshaped into a subtle muzzle. Her chest mirrored the cat-girl’s: four pairs of breasts, the topmost large and heavy, a full D-cup, with three smaller pairs tapering below. She wore a similar collar, and her medallion too held a photo: a photo of their friend David.
The moment the two pets reached Kate and Stella, they nuzzled against their legs, purring, panting, eyes full of adoration. Not with embarrassment, but with pride. The were eager to greet the guests of their Mistress.
Louise snapped her fingers twice. The women immediately stopped, sitting on their heels like obedient animals. With calm, practiced hands, Louise clipped two leashes onto their collars. The moment the clasps clicked, the cat-girl and dog-girl lowered their gazes and folded their hands on their thighs, completely docile.
Kate and Stella were still frozen in place when the Mistress arrived.