After Lily finally left, her heels clicking triumphantly down the porch steps, I collapsed onto the foyer rug in a trembling heap—fluffy cat ears askew atop my tousled raven waves, whisker-embroidered dress hiked scandalously high on my plush thighs, pink panties still damp with shameful slick.
Why am I releasing slick even though I am not an omega? OG Emily's surgery this successful?
Crumbs dusted my full lips and cleavage, hibiscus oil clinging sticky to my olive skin, the pain in my pinkie nail throbbing like a brand of humiliation. Why? I thought, tears carving fresh paths over my flushed cheeks. I just sent a thank-you gift...
The doorbell chimed sharp, jolting me upright. I staggered to my feet, tail swaying limp, and flung the door wide—still trapped in this degrading costume, my bun fully unravelled into glossy wild cascades down my back.
