You pull yourself from the piles of clothing and start to brush yourself off, wiping the dust from your skirt. Wait a second... skirt? Shouldn't that be "pants"? But sure enough, you aren't wearing any pants anymore, with a long, frilly black latex skirt, thick petticoat keeping it shapely and perky. Your torso is similarly attired, a laced bodice that leaves little to the imagination (or rather, that would if you were a woman) tightly bound around your chest and the sleeves ending at your shoulders. Your feet have also gained matching attire, a pair of classy black high-heels on both of them making it much more painful for you to stand and a pair of thigh-high fishnet stockings that make your hairy legs look ridiculous. The ensemble is made complete with a pair of soft, delicate white gloves that cover both arms almost up to the elbow. What you're wearing is a classic slutty maid outfit... but without the slut, and with you on the inside!
You aren't exactly shocked when you find the whole thing quite impossible to remove - the skirt refusing to budge and the bodice laces remaining tight - nor when you can't find your regular clothing anywhere - digging through the pile proves totally fruitless. Given your luck so far tonight, this is all entirely expected. What isn't expected is the sudden, furious itch in both hands Maybe you're allergic to whatever fabric the gloves are made of, you think to yourself as you frantically try to scratch them with both hands completely covered, the itch becoming a mild burning sensation. After a while, the scratching starts to work and you breathe a sigh of relief, only to spot the cause of its sudden effectiveness: the digits of both hands have sprouted small, sharp claws at their tips. Even worse, the gloves are starting to look less like gloves and more like short fur, fur that grows right from your arm. At your elbow, the white fur travels towards your shoulder (and presumably the rest of your body), and in its wake your arm is reshaped, all those parts covered by it gaining far more feminine curves and even your clawed fingers becoming smaller and more dainty.
Your legs aren't faring much better than your arms, white hairs and shapely calves forming beneath the fishnet stockings, but you can't focus on them for long. Your chest soon balloons into view, a pair of small but perky breasts quickly expanding from it and filling the bodice quite tightly. It starts to squeeze like a vice on your midsection, crushing your hips and gut into a more feminine shape that'll match your chest. But once again, you're distracted by changes elsewhere - this time, it's at your back, where you can feel the skirt and petticoat lifting. Glancing back, you spot a white, cat-like tail slithering its way from beneath the clothes and extending out behind you, then becoming fairly rigid and tensely curved (no doubt to convey the panic you're currently feeling).
A twitchy sort of feeling starts emanating from your ears, so you raise your hands to feel them... but they aren't in the right place anymore. Moving higher, you find them both atop your head, just as fuzzy as your hands and considerably pointier. Before your very eyes you can see your nose and mouth pushing forward to match the rest of you, forming a small muzzle that extends just slightly from your face. As though to complete the look, your hair falls down suddenly, perfectly pampered long, straight hair falling to your shoulders.
You scream, of course, the changes having left you a much different person... err, thing, than you were when they started. Your voice is much higher-pitched and more feminine, but at least you still have a voice. Yeah, there's always that. Plus, the outfit isn't that bad. The latex probably gets hot, but it fits you like a glove and it's pretty stretchy so you should still be able to move around pretty well. And hey, you do look pretty cute, all adorable cat-girl and all. Yeah, you could get used to this. Ooh, you probably get paid pretty well too! But then again, who needs pay? Yeah, something like this would be satisfying enough on its own! Just the idea of serving your masters, keeping their affairs in order and keeping their house clean, and of the pride you might glean from doing such a glorious job, is reward enough for you. After all, they deserve it for giving you such a nice new role in life.