Your Master continues to gaze into your eyes as he slowly extends that long, slick black tongue of his from between those glinting fangs. The surface is slick with that magically luminescent saliva, beads of it dangling from the curves of his tongue. With a teasing slowness, he wraps its length around your cock in a warm spiral. You can feel the magic seeping in under the touch as he slides that impossibly long tongue up and down your shaft. You come almost immediately, eyes rolling back in your head, but nothing comes out. You feel the familiar tense contractions of climax, but the releases between them are missing. The twitches come one after another, pulling your cock tighter and thinner. The magic of your Master's tongue is turning your orgasm in on itself, using it to fuel the changes.
As your shaft shrinks and recedes he leans closer in between your legs, his tongue coiling tighter and tighter around your cock, until every inch of itis tightly coiled up inside his sliding, seeking tongue, the tip lapping at the base, the white fur around it slick with his saliva. And as your shaft gets smaller, the nerves inside it pack tighter. The inch that remains is afire with his touch, and with so little left, he lets the rest of his tongue range out from the base of your dwindling shaft. It curls under the shaft to caress one of your balls through your scrotum, fondling it playfully for a second, making your eyelids flutter, before gently guiding it upward, pressing it into a hollow space that's been quietly forming above. If your eyes weren't rolled back in your head with sexual bliss, you would see one of hands tracing strange pattens on the ground below, drawing arcs of lightning up through his arm, traveling up to his mouth and racing up the length of his tongue. You still feel the magic hit its mark as the crackling blue sparks latch onto the ball in his tongue's grip, pulling it up into place inside your body, where it twists and blossoms into something new and far more powerful. You're so overcome by the strange joy it brings that you barely even notice as your Master does the same to your other testicle, evening you out.
With its contents gone, your scrotum hangs empty below what is rapidly becoming your new clit. Your Master reaches up to grasp the empty sack, scratching it lightly with his claws, lifting it upward to meet his lips and your button within. By this point there's barely anything left of it, his mouth flush with your crotch and his lips softly sucking at the live wire your dick ha become. He brings other hand up to where his mouth meets your body, letting a trickle of saliva fall down onto the claw of his middle finger, soaking it with the magic arcing all over, the sparks brighter now than ever. His face and mouth are pushing against you now, pressing your bud into the flesh around it. With one hand your Master holds your empty scrotum up against your button, the loose skin bunching up at the sides of it in a familiar shape. He stops his tongue's attentions now, making sure you're looking down to meet his gaze for this part. Still holding your button and the folds of your empty scrotum in place, he takes that magic-soaked claw and drives it into the skin beneath. The flesh splits open beneath.
It should be agonizing. It should hurt. But it doesn't.
Arcs of blue forest magic jump wildly all through your privates, severing old connections and sewing new ones in their place. The empty skin that once held your testicles splits in two, branches out, becoming the outer and inner folds of your new vagina. Your clit slides into place as the claw slice below warps and reshapes into an inner passage below, the walls instantly slick with new feminine juices, anchored by powerful muscles that grow around it, making your new cunt tight and strong. Your womb blossoms into existence, ready and waiting to bring new life into this world, to breed, to bear children for your Master. The outer lips of your slit puff up as a feline heat takes hold, an anxious fiery need that wafts outward through the air, your Master's nose flaring and heart quickening as the scent hits your noses. He stares up into your eyes, his gaze a silent question that he gives voice as he draws his mouth back from your folds.
"Now, my beloved, beautiful Kitten, are you ready to bear the children of a god?"
You don't have to even consider.
"Please, Master. I need this. I need you."
That's all he needs to hear. Faster than you thought possible, he stands up to his full height, still at least a head taller than you despite your new form, and leans down into a hungry kiss that drives any remaining doubt from your mind. Your mouths needily tangle with one another, an exploration of tongues and fangs and lips that's deep and primal and human and divine, love and sheer animal need mixed to perfection. Your hands roam across each other's bodies, stroking fur and muscle and soft flesh in turn, each one of you eager to explore your new lover's form. His lean, rippling muscles tense in excitement under your feline paws, your claws tracing soft scratches down the sides of his hips and running through the thick fur of his legs, while his talons retract into his powerful hands as he strokes the soft fur of your body, petting you in every spot you could name, kneading the soft fur of your back, sliding down the sides of your body, gripping and squeezing the plush cheeks of your ass. You lift one feline leg up over his as he does this, desperate to go further, to truly become his, your purring needy and ragged with desire. The two of you lock eyes once again, and you find the nerve to speak up again.
"Give your Kitten a lift, love?"