What does your master want?

Your fingers hover over the phone screen, composing another message to Master David. "Master David, Sir, nya~ Is there anything else your pet should do to prepare for tonight? Neko wants to be absolutely perfect for you!" You hit send, then set the phone down on the pristine white coffee table, trying not to squirm as arousal continues to pool between your thighs.

The apartment around you is stunning in its clinical efficiency—white walls, chrome fixtures, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Pacific. A welcome packet sits on the kitchen counter, still sealed. Your phone buzzes almost immediately.

"Good kitten. Three things: First, practice getting on all fours and crawling—you'll be doing a lot of that tonight. Second, find something to use as a tail plug so you get used to the sensation. Third, edge yourself three times before I arrive, but don't you dare cum. I want you absolutely **** when I walk through that door."

Your pussy clenches hard as you read it, fresh wetness soaking your already-damp miniskirt. "Yes Master David! Neko will do exactly as you command, nya~" you type back, your hands trembling.

The doorbell chimes at 5:32pm—your lingerie delivery. You pad to the door on your pink heels, opening it to find a young delivery woman in a navy uniform. Her eyes widen as she takes in your appearance: the cat ears, the tail, the massive breasts barely contained in the sports bra.

"Uh... delivery for Neko Slutkitty?" she manages, her cheeks flushing.

"That's me, nya~!" you chirp, signing for the package with a flourish. She practically runs back to the elevator.

Inside the box, the white lace is even more revealing than the photos suggested. You hold up the garter belt, admiring how the delicate straps will frame your body without covering anything. The matching collar makes your heart race.

You carry everything to the bathroom and stop short at your reflection. The mirror shows you as you are now—tiny, curved, feline. But as you open the cabinet beneath the sink, you find a professional makeup kit, complete and untouched. Your hands reach for it automatically, muscle memory that isn't yours guiding your movements.

Foundation, contour, highlight. Your fingers work with practiced precision, blending and shaping. Smoky eyeshadow that makes your warm brown eyes look enormous and innocent. Mascara that lengthens your lashes. A touch of blush. Finally, glossy pink lipstick that makes your lips look even more kissable.

You stare at yourself, stunned. The face looking back is a masterpiece of sultry innocence—exactly what a trophy pet should look like. "How did I... nya?" But the answer is obvious. The nanites. They've given you skills you never had, rewriting your brain to make you the perfect plaything.

Your phone buzzes. Another message from Master David: "Can't wait to see you, kitten. My cock is already hard thinking about breaking in that virgin pussy."

You strip off the damp miniskirt and sports bra, letting them fall to the bathroom tile. Your reflection stares back—cat ears perked, tail swishing with nervous excitement, breasts heavy and full. The white lace garter belt settles around your hips like a promise, the delicate straps framing your pussy without covering it. You roll the stockings up your legs, the silky fabric whispering against your skin. The matching collar buckles around your throat with a soft click that makes your breath catch.

"Nya... Master David is going to love this," you whisper, turning to admire how the straps cup under your ass, lifting and displaying. Your tail flicks through the gap designed for it. You look exactly like what you are—a pet ready to be used.

The velvet box from the welcome packet sits on the counter. Inside, a jeweled plug winks in the light, smaller than you feared but still intimidating. You coat it with lube, your fingers trembling slightly, then reach behind yourself. The plug presses against your ass, and you bite your lip as you push. The stretch burns for a moment before your body accepts it, the base settling snugly between your cheeks. Your tail trembles with the new sensation.

"Oh fuck, nya~" The fullness makes you clench, arousal flooding through you. Every movement reminds you it's there.

You drop to your hands and knees on the cool tile, the heels making your back arch naturally. Your breasts sway beneath you as you crawl forward, the plug shifting with each movement. By the time you reach the bedroom, your pussy is dripping, leaving a glistening trail on the hardwood.

Master David's orders echo in your mind. Edge three times. You lie back on the bed, spreading your legs, and slide two fingers through your wet folds. It takes less than a minute before you're gasping, your whole body tensing as the orgasm approaches. You stop just before the edge, whimpering with frustration.

"One, nya..." you count breathlessly.

The second time is harder—your body fights you, begging for release. You have to physically pull your hand away, squeezing your thighs together as the pleasure crests and falls without satisfaction.

"Two... Master, please..."

The third edge breaks you into **** whimpers. Your cat ears flatten against your head as you **** yourself to stop again, every nerve screaming for the orgasm you're denying yourself. The plug in your ass and the wetness coating your thighs make it almost unbearable.

You check your phone with shaking hands. 5:47pm. Just over an hour until the Tesla arrives. Just over an hour until you meet the man who owns you, who will take your virginity and fill you with his cum.

Your pussy clenches at the thought, fresh arousal dripping onto the sheets.