Explore the building

The warehouse is dilapidated. There are empty cardboard boxes and barrels strewn across random corners, old newspaper clippings, and evidence of somebody living here - probably the homeless. However, upon directing your cat ears towards a curious sound source from downstairs, you believe that this evidence may be more recent that speculated.

Sophie: "(Aw crap, there's somebody else in here isn't there?)"

Izzy is still wizened and tuckered out from having to run for hours on end and move heavy machinery around.

Izzy: *Phew*... "Aww shit no, I don't got enough juice in me to fight nobody."

Sophie: "My big brave man. Don't worry, ain't no hobos in here that I couldn't take on one-handed."

You sneak downstairs with Izzy in tow, keeping your eyes peeled for any more unwanted horndogs. Despite the minimal sunlight seeping in through the boarded-up and blocked windows, your cat-eyes are keen enough to navigate by. On the ground floor you find an old, rusted staircase leading into god-knows-where. The sounds from earlier can be heard with great clarity.

Sophie: "That's our mark. You wanna go down?"

The catboy sneaks a momentary gaze towards your skirt.

Izzy: "Yeah I'd be down for that."

The two of you descend silently into the unknown. It's still dark, but not pitch black. As you inch down, the previously-heard sound begin to die down, and there's a sort of scuttling and unintelligible whispering. Now you're certain that there are people in here.

A dark and scary hallway is so much scarier when you're expecting that somebody could jump and latch onto you at any time and start to grind on you like a non-neutered dog. There's a run-down wooden door straight ahead at the end of the hallway, behind which the soft murmurs clearly emanane from.

Hearts pounding, the door is now almost within reach. An arm already outstretched, you suddenly hear loud steps from behind. Loud, approaching steps.

You lurch backwards, intercepting a shadowy figure wielding a rusted metal pipe. They are taken aback by your uncharacteristic strength, and fall on their side after you twist the weapon in their hands. Ready to kick their sorry ass to Wet Blanket Town, you see that the attacker is a catboy as well. A bearded, gravely-voiced man in his late twenties who's exactly as hunky as Izzy, just slightly more buff.

Sophie: "What the fuck? Are you one of us? Like, are you sane?"

Robert: "Uh, yea. Sorry about the the rude reception. I'm sure you're both aware that there's something fucky going on about your bodies."

Izzy: "Oh yea."

Sophie: "Definitely. The horniness thing, right?"

Robert: "Precisely. Follow me, if you will. Uh, my name's Robert by the way."

Sophie: "Sophie."

Izzy: "Izzy. Pleased to meet ya."

Robert open the door for you, revealing a candlelit room occupied by masses of catpeople all huddled around a shoddy table. They appear frightened at first as the creaky door opens, but are relieved to see their companion.

Robert: "Fellow felines, we have two new members: Sophie and Izzy."

You exchange greetings and are directed to sit down. Robert explains that he, like all the men and women here, have gone through the exact same transformation as you two did this morning. Woke up as a cat, become superhumanly beautiful, started drawing attention amongst the general population, ended up seeking shelter and found this warehouse. Supposedly, this has been going on for months now.

Izzy: "Well that don't make no sense. How come I never heard of crowds of people chasing down sexxed up catboys and -girls before?"

Robert: "People will forget about us soon after we're out of their sight. That's really for the better - otherwise we'd never find a moment's solace."

Sophie: "So I guess we'll be staying here until... we figure something out?"

Robert: "There's hardly much to figure out. Something must be causing this, but we couldn't hazard to guess just what. For the forseeable future, we'll be stranded in this stupid cellar."

Sophie: "Shucks. Like, whaddya even do all day?"

Robert: "Eh, have loads and loads of sex, mostly. About six hours after the transformation you'll cease the need for any bodily functions - you don't need to eat, sleep, rest or even take a crap. That leaves lots of downtime, and since we're all hyper-sexualised anyways, there's little incentive not to."

Sophie: "Cool. While that sounds like a lark, I can't help but want something more from my life. And I say: you're all a bunch of dejected, half-dead strays!"

The several dozens of supermodel-grade catpeople look around at each others, and then inquisitively and awaitingly towards you.

Robert: "What do you suppose we could do, then, hm?"