Wait

You stand perfectly still, your hands at your sides, your eyes fixed on Morgan. The silence stretches between you, but it doesn't feel awkward or uncomfortable. It feels right. Natural. You're waiting for her to tell you what to do, and that's exactly where you belong.

Morgan studies you for a long moment, those enormous pale blue eyes moving over your body with a proprietorial gaze that makes your skin flush hot. Her wings shift slightly, the white feathers catching the light. You can see her mind working, processing this new dynamic, testing the boundaries of what she can do.

"You're really just going to stand there until I tell you otherwise, aren't you?" she asks, but it's not really a question. Her sultry voice wraps around the words like silk.

"Yes," you answer simply.

She takes a step closer, then another, until she's standing directly in front of you. The top of your head barely reaches her collarbone. She reaches out and cups your chin, tilting your face up to look at her. "You know what's funny? Part of me thought this would feel strange. Wrong, maybe. But it doesn't." Her thumb strokes your jaw. "Looking at you, seeing you wait for my command... it feels completely natural. Like this is how it was always supposed to be."

"Because I am yours," you say, and the words send pleasure cascading through your brain just from saying them to her.

"Yes," she agrees, her smile widening. "You are." She releases your chin and steps back. "Dr. Tanaka said something about wardrobes. I want to see what they've given us. Come with me to the bedroom."

She doesn't wait to see if you'll follow—she simply walks toward the bedroom, those long legs carrying her with hypnotic grace. Her ass is perfectly sculpted, muscles flexing with each step. The wings sway gently with her movement.

You follow immediately, your smaller frame having to take quicker steps to keep pace. The apartment feels different now, seen through your enhanced vision. Every detail is sharper, clearer.

Dr. Tanaka calls after you both, "I'll be leaving in a few minutes. Everything appears stable with your transformations. The studio contact information is on the kitchen counter if you need anything."

Morgan doesn't acknowledge her, already focused on the bedroom ahead. You pass through the doorway and see two enormous walk-in closets, their doors standing open. One is filled with clothing clearly designed for Morgan's new body—revealing, expensive, every piece designed to showcase rather than conceal. The other contains clothes sized for your smaller frame.