Kate and Stella talked for a while. They were torn between their desire to watch the video and belong to the cult, and their fear of changing too much. What would happen if they agreed to Mistress Tyranny's terms? Kate trusted her best friend Annie, but her old friend had changed so much to become Mistress Tyranny, Kate wasn't sure she could still trust her. In fact, Kate wasn't sure she could even trust her own desire.
Kate and Stella looked into each other’s eyes and nodded. It was a leap of faith.
“We’ll do it,” Kate said softly. “We’ll watch the fifth video. Even if it means becoming your slave.”
“But,” Stella added, “only if we stay together. No matter what happens.”
Mistress Tyranny gave a slow, approving smile. “Of course. The Cult doesn’t destroy lesbian love. It refines it.”
The two women hesitated, still clinging to their last slivers of autonomy, of resistance. But they could feel them melting.
Mistress Tyranny stood tall and commanding, arms folded beneath her corseted bust. Her gaze, cold and erotic, bore into them. She commanded: “You must beg me, slaves.”
Kate’s lips trembled. Stella took a deep breath. In unison, they dropped to their knees, looked up, and whispered: “Please, Mistress, enlighten us with the fifth video.”
Mistress Tyranny turned toward the television, her black heels clicking on the floor. Louise, silently obedient, pressed play.
The screen lit up with pure temptation. This video was different. There were no monologues, no subtle metaphors. Just raw, unfiltered, hypnotic lesbian porn: slow and sensual at first, then wild, carnal, overwhelming. Dozens of women, naked and moaning in worship of one another’s bodies, writhed in ecstatic unity on a golden beach. Eyes half-lidded, tongues exploring, hands gripping flesh, legs intertwined.
Kate and Stella stared at the screen, their bodies heating, their minds slipping. Their breathing slowed, deepened. Their hands reached for each other, but their eyes never left the screen. Then it began.
Kate was the first to change. Her skin flushed, lips parted, pupils dilated. Her already large breasts swelled again, now a full F-cup. Her body grew warmer, needier, as if a fire had awakened deep inside her that could only be satisfied by exposure. Her clothes suddenly felt unbearable, suffocating. With trembling hands, she tore them off, her crimson dress, her panties, all discarded in seconds. Her skin tingled, electric, as the air kissed every inch of her exposed body.
Only two items remained: a leather slave collar around her neck, placed there by Mistress Tyranny, and a pair of strappy sandals that clicked with every step she took. The thought of ever wearing clothes again repulsed her. She didn’t just enjoy being seen naked—she needed it. Her identity was now fused with eroticism, with exhibitionism. She was a display, a living work of pleasure meant to be desired by every woman, an example of what every man could become if he joined the Cult of Lesbos. Kate moaned as the final lock on her mind clicked open: she was ready to belong to the Cult of Lesbos, both body and mind.
Stella was next. Her form softened again, curves rounding perfectly into hyper-feminine beauty. Her breasts swelled to a full F-cup, matching Kate’s. Her waist tapered into an hourglass, and her skin became flawless and smooth. Between her legs, her last physical tie to manhood slipped away—not with pain, but with pure pleasure. She gasped as her new anatomy finalized. A wet, sensitive pussy was there, ready to be explored.
At last, she was biologically a woman. Fully, completely, 100% a woman. And not just any woman: a fantasy. Stella saw herself in scrubs, her cleavage perfectly framed, her makeup soft but alluring. A nurse in white, with thigh-high stockings and a clipboard she barely pretended to read. She was also wearing a slave collar. She was now Stella the sexy nurse, a role she’d play with pride whether healing wounds or delivering pleasure. Like Kate, Stella moaned as her mind adjusted to her new submissive nature: she was ready too.
When the video ended, both women lay on the carpet in front of Mistress Tyranny, breathing heavily, their eyes glazed with pleasure and purpose. They looked up. Their Mistress stood above them, flanked by the ever-loyal Louise.
“You belong to me now,” Mistress Tyranny said.