Time slowed for Morgan. She could feel her body growing and her skin tightening, and the sexual crescendo of Emma's attentions and her changes. For a brief moment, she felt clear headed, her consciousness rising above the sexual haze and ocean of pleasure. She realized these were her last moments as an intellectual; her body and mind were being remade for sex and there was no turning back.
She could imagine it happening - her nucleus accumbens, the almond sized lump of brain that controlled pleasure and happiness, swelling up to the size of a lemon. It also was the home of addiction, and its growth would make her hopelessly addicted to sex. Its growth would cannibalize parts of her brain previously used for abstract reasoning and complex thought. Her mind would be the ultimate orgasm machine, wired up to a body that was one giant erogenous zone. A rubber beast made to fuck. Oh she needed to fuck.
Morgan's consciousness drifted back down into the mental pink fog, sinking down into a sea of lust, never to surface again.
She opened her eyes. In the lower part of her vision, she could see her nose and mouth warped out of shape, stretched over her growing muzzle. Twisting her head and glancing down, her view was largely blocked by her distorted lower face. She could see her right leg, skin taught and stretched to twice its former diameter. A thick cord spiraled around her leg under her skin, pulsing longer and thicker. It was her tail, confined inside her human shell and unable to burst free.
Her skin was so tight she couldn't move. She needed to be free, out of this human prison. The changing woman held her breath and flexed, straining her fleshy cage. With a dramatic bang, the skin that had been the human girl Stephanie Morgan exploded. A shining blur of charcoal gray and black heaved Emma and flipped her onto her back. The crimson feline found herself nose to nose with a latex pantheress.
'Smoke wants her Fire' she purred.
With that, the crimson feline realized her lover was right. Emma had been sooo complicated and boring. All plans and responsibilities, so much junk in her life that she couldn't even understand now. She was pure power and sex, she was Fire. They rolled off the bar, giving Fire a good look at Smoke.
The pantheress stood at about seven and a half feet tall, a over a foot shorter than Fire. Where Fire was long and (relatively) lean, Smoke was bulky and stacked. She was charcoal gray down her front, from the underside of her muzzle to the swell of her mound. The rest of her was glossy black. Her lips, nips, and pawpads were extremely dark red - perfectly matching Fire's. Her eyes were the only splash of bold color, a brilliant red that seemed demonic when paired with her feline pupils. The top of her head was as smooth and glossy as the rest of her, she lacked the latex hair that Fire sported.
Broad shoulders and powerful arms were packed with hard defined muscle. Like the other Cat Scratch transformees, her arms ended in huge handpaws with retractable claws. Her tits were massive, bordering on absurd. Smoke's arms could wrap around them and clasp her handpaws, but no further. They consumed all real estate from her collar bones to the bottom of her rib cage, with the sides of her tits going right to the edge of her armpits. Her waist narrowed, giving her a nice slender middle to her hourglass. She not only had six pack abs like Fire and the others, but she had well defined obliques and other smaller muscles.
Her hips were wide and appropriate for a fertility goddess, her ass two plump firm spheres. Smoke's tail was thick, eight inches across and five feet long. It would drag on the ground if she didn't instinctively raise the tip, which danced with a life of its own. Her thighs were every bit as thick and powerful as the rest of her, and her digitigrade legs ended in big heavy paws.
Smoke felt whole, happy. She was here with her crimson and copper colored lover. Her mate.
They embraced again, eager to satisfy the lust that smoldered inside of them.