The kitchen was a chaotic storm of flour, sugar, and scattered utensils. They’d have to clean it up later—Mistress didn’t like a mess—but for now, their focus was only on each other.
“Jessie,” the tattooed blonde, Lana, said with a breathless chuckle, “you’re supposed to be mixing the batter, not...mmph.”
Jessie’s lips found the curve of Lana’s shoulder, her teeth gently grazing the inked flesh. “Not what?” she asked innocently.
Lana leaned into her embrace. Her soft skin was as warm as freshly baked bread. “Not getting distracted,” she said, trying to regain some semblance of control, but it was half-hearted at best.
“Remember before, when we’d grunt over beers and joke about chicks in the kitchen?”
Lana turned in her arms, her own breasts pressing against hers. “Never thought I’d be the chick in a kitchen... Or want you this badly.”
Their eyes locked. Once, they’d been not only different people but different genders.
“Convincing you to sneak across the border for a YouTube documentary was a shit idea, huh?” 
“The worst.” Jessie laughed softly. “You were such an asshole before.”
“I was.” Lana nodded solemnly. “And now?”
“Now you’re kind of a bitch.” Jessie smirked. “But you’re my bitch.”
Their bodies melded together like they were meant to fit this way, as if their past selves were just rough drafts for the masterpieces they’d become. The oven timer dinged, forgotten as they kissed, touched, and lost themselves in each other.
Lana broke the kiss first, resting her forehead against Jessie’s. “What about the cookies?”
“Fuck the cookies.” Her hand tangled into Lana’s hair, pulling her into another deep kiss.
“God,” Lana gasped as her fingers found new territory. “We really suck at baking.”
“I don’t think ‘Mistress’ even eats them.” Jessie nodded at the CCTV camera, the little red light winking. “She just likes watching us fumble around. Her own little Great British Baking Show.”
“Except I don’t think either of us will be going home after we ruin the recipe.”
“She gets off on this... on us. Changing us. Watching us.”
“And what do we get?” Lana’s voice was low and husky.
“Each other,” Jesse replied and wrapped her lips around Lana’s nipple.