Cookie Cutter Strip Morph


Written  by Septia.


“And now, for your decrepit amusement, we have a feral beast lurking in the shadows, aching to show off, please welcome at center stage… Brutania.” 
	The patrons populating the sleazy strip-club roared in cheers as Brutania entered. Her bosom bobbing to the beat with accentuated sways, hips gyrating at each step to whip her fur mantle – one of three clothing articles she sported – away just enough to catch a glimpse of the bountiful buttocks hidden below, her stride exuding charisma that devoured the stage, and reaching the end of the walkway, she didn't hesitate to cast off her cape to the rabid audience. “Show’s been too tame, lemme hear ya howl, howl to your queen.” Brutania’s voice carried further than the announcer, glasses were raises and cheers echoed down the locale as she swung onto the pole, scissoring her thighs around it and spinning with one hand clutched to the pole; hoisting herself as the sail of depravity on the mast, with her bobbing assets flapping as the proud flags of smut. She spun straight and planted her lips to the pole, kicking up her leg around it – so her wide patten panties squeaked to the metal – in a mimicry of losing her virginity to the inanimate rod, her moans and thrusts selling the Broadway of stripteases.


The excitement hung dense n the air, only a minute into the act and Brutania was sweating,
	“Oh yeah, go wild, show me the beasts that you are,” she shouted to the audience. Though, as she pried her lips from the pole, a distinct flavour budded past her lips. She put fingers to her lips, and watched them daubed in in a film of yellow. The pole bore the same hue of lipstick mark.
	“Banana…” she mumbled, tongue exploring her cheeks to feel the syrup of aspartame and the phallic fruit fill her mind. Snapping back to reality she heaved herself up the pole, clutching it tight and slowly spinning down. In each rotation, she felt a hail of droplets left her palm's knuckle joints which creaked as a dusty hinge in a grinder -KkrThggkkrt- melding together as the skin of her fingers ballooned, injected with fluids drawn from the arm, her hand warping in size around the bulges under the malforming sausage sized digits, while her thumb -Ckrkth- snapped back and forth, crumbling as the hand absorbed its mass. 
	“Mpsh ahfsn, get s-someone h-hel-.” She huffed, then whined asher jaw went slack, hair wilting and drooping down her face, her forehead throbbing and drumming with boils of flesh -Chrlbbrsl- -Chgrlslh- working away under her skin, protruding her eyebrows and distending her face… What frightened her the most, wasn't their bones crumbling, because it wasn't shatter… it was shedding. 
	“Ghrnnaahwhaguh, ahshanf,” She howled as a -Chrkktch- ripped through her face, her mouth and sagging jaw jettisoned forwards a good thumb, the protruding maw leaving her nose back in the dust, her face gaining the characteristics of a ninety degree angle. Through her whimpers and cries, she shook her head back and forth, -Chhrlt- -Chrhskpth- the audience hearing how new bone-structures grew beneath the old, shedding the husk of calcium and slotting into place with reverberant crunches of cracked knuckles -Chrlslptsh-. In each sway her face morphed, skin swelling in new cheeks, nose shuffled forwards – as if someone reeled the nostril towards her maw, but the bridge remained attached between her eyes. Each flail sculpted detail from the canvas of muscle and skin, contorting bones only to plump it up smooth and rotund, -Chhrsstph- -Sllffsh- The meaty displacement echoed in Brutania's head, until -Chlrlth- it clicked in place. A faint ache remained, yet her face was warm as tempered iron, she put her hand to it, measuring out her bulbous, protruding jaw with her nose squared atop, how her face slumped back above to her eyes, and the square brow adorning them. Her human appearance torn as a mask, reconstructed into… a muzzle. Her thought vexed into a jumble of worry riddling her brain with what could have happened. Was it the empty gift she retrieved from a shady fan? The radiant gum she'd scraped off the floor in the lab, that frothing scorpion that jabbed her foot, maybe a vivid dream about an alien procreating with her mid slumber? But she found nothing out of the ordinary. 


Racking her brains, her trip down the pole came to an abrupt end; the stripper slumping onto the ground, panties first… -Bttlphhtsf-. The mulch of gruel under her hind sent a shock wave through her nerves; taut, then relaxed. It didn't feel like waste, less humid, more… pliable, soft, stodgy. A dune of pale beige cookie dough blossomed out of the rim of her panties from the pressure, drooping down in a thick mound of chocolate chip batter melting by her radiant warmth. 
	“Phha… hha…” She huffed, and embraced the pole as a bout of -Frrwwrrxth- fog stormed through her hinds, a cloud of dampness billowing through and saturating the club’s air in the pungency and sickly odour of her home baking, the chocolate shards in the dough melting under the torrent of heat, -Kkrtshth- and her spine pronouncing outwards in the mire of oozing cookie steam. Her new limb wiggling, curving and bending as an eager finger. 
	“Mppfhs, ahaha, ha, hah,” Brutania chuckled at the absurdity, hearing her voice distorting from the sweet commanding tones, spun into a warm depth as if someone dipped her voice in caramel. 
	“Keep… it… up.” 


~ 1 ~


She watched the crowd, at which her glistening body lobbed sweat – in the consistency of lemon curds –  haphazardly over. They remained oblivious. A tingle sprouted over her skin as each drop exuded from her dermis, mind. 
	'Oh screw me in the sewers,' Brutania thought, 'This is some whack infection or something. Gotta bust before the whole pad gets sick off me.' -Cghrrls- She felt a grumble down her abdomen, and before she could let go of the pole… 
	-PphhrbbfrrwwwtthCkkflpwgshwp- A humid bubbling of flatulence sought out between her padded buns, the pluming cloud of nougat scented steam culminating in a noise carrying much more… weight. -Kllpddwpwth-. Brutania's teeth clenched, her cheeks rattling as the jungle pattern on her underwear budged out, engorging with lumps swirling through in a crackling -Chhrlspth- -Ghhrrlslcrth- through her hind, packing her panties pudgy in putrid putty. The cheering subsided. The grind of Brutania against the pole -Shhnnrrrrn- wound through the club. 
	'Aaw taffy, everyone saw mmf, mfm.' “Mmgnrs, pmgsh,” She huffed, hawking up a blob in her throat, spat out as a glistening chunk of crimson gelatin, reflecting in the mood lighting as a gleaming ruby. Her lips tickled from the residue of jelly, a sensation spreading through from her lips, encompassing her face. 
	'Get me off of here,' she whimpered in her head, clutching herself taut to the pole, just in time for the quivers to hook through her skin, into her flesh. 
	-Chhrthc- her jaw dislocated, clinging to the skull by a handful of nerves, -Chhrsthc- The bones splintering within, chin drooping down her face by the length of a finger, horror pulsating through every thought. Bone wasn't breaking from nothing… there, wait, she felt it course up through her cranium, nose drooling of lemon tinged grease as the marrow ruptured through her skull.
	She reached for her face, retracting in an instant as the pain spread to her arm, opening her eyes to behold her palms anomalistic contours, a paw with the bulging segments swollen to softer pads, her skin tone darkener into a leathery surface, contrasting the glimmering amber the rest of her body shifted into. Brutania brushed along her arms, prime golden ochre, but her skin was covered in a glaze of yellow floof, which wedged out of her form in the pace of melting gelaton.
	“Haha, phah, everytwhere I look;” Brutania didn't recognise her own voice, she was a slender sprout, but this voice a booming willow, “every part of me is soft, comfy and cuddly, haa, marvellous,” she moaned, slumping forwards on all four, a familiar cracking -Chhrstkh- sprouting through her spine, shoulders raising as the gilded fur flourished on her form, the arches of her ears smoothed round and petite. 
	“Mmf aahsm, aah, mfms, oh I feel it, yes,” she grunted, shuffling towards the edge of the catwalk. She tuned out the commotion, around her others were scrambling, fleeing or frozen by fascination at the feral hybrid basking in its own glory. -Chrhth- Her panties seams wrinkled. 
	“Mfms,” she fell to her side, plump paw planting at her crotch, nails glossy and curving to claws to rip the fabric free. Underneath, the audience was granted a view of her womanhood, though the lips warped around a bulge of flesh, contorting as the meat ferried through the pit. The fluttering rim of her pussy plastering onto the pole as it unearthed through her depths, spooling up the sensitive organs on the throbbing club of vascular masculinity. 
	“Aaah yhhees,” she shouted, and her shout became a roar, the fur at her neck flourished into a mane – as the petals of a rose. 
	Seeing a snatch vomit out a cock was breathtaking – in various interpretations of the word – even more was when the tip splayed open to unleash a flood at the audience. -Frwnnsns- Foam fizzed and billowed down the shaft as the arching stream of pastel amber rained over the audience, splattering them in sweet tropical juices of pineapple, grapes and kiwi, steamy as a soup yet tepid to the touch. The gush was met with a melange of responses, some scrambling to escape, others screaming, yet… the more who were caught in the shower of fruity foam, the more joy could be heard; an epidemic of moans sprawled across the audience. As Brutania's pussylips melted together with the pumping shaft; gifting it girth and cocooning it to a shawl of skin crawling along the pristinely polished flesh -Crrwlschths-. Brutania howling in pleasure at sharing the gift of her nut juice with all her fans. 


The carpet of cur coating the dancer buffed in length, skin secluded under its presence and her mane spooling forth in luscious red locks, 
	“Mmgs, aoh yes, I feel it,” she mumbled, supporting herself against the pole, raising up as her chest bobbed, the indent of her fur displaced her bra, folding bushels of ochre fur under them, rustling as a live animal at the constant growls of growth reverberating from her body -Chhrbbrg- -BHHRgllgshths- torso arched back, bust jutting forwards, the threads in her garment -Chhnnr- tensed to their limits. “Mmamwaw,” She shouted, buffing out her chest as the reverberations carried from her lungs to a lion's roar. 
	-Ckrkthc- The seam in the bra snapping, ripping off her chest that bobbed back and forth like a rippling river, redistributing fat from her jugs evenly in the wobbles, until they sat laid smooth in a toned, buff chest. 
	“MGMnaahaoo oh, yes, I will make you fall, feel this joy,” the male lion shouted, the triumphant roars echoing down his bowels. -Chhrlslg- -Bbhrst- -Chhrrlltk- till it came to a crinkle in their rear. 
	Their pucker winking back and forth, swollen as large as Brutania's former face, the rugose plush meat rippling to and fro, withdrawing to a taut pinch… -Ppbfbfwrrrppth- and flung outwards to swell open in a detonation of vapours. -Chhgrrllrsghht- The brim crinkled as the vacuum from the gas release congested with raw bowel dough. Its surface a smooth mix of khaki and beige, denting as it passed through the pucker, pinching to grasp around the utter gargantuan girth it housed, the mound of dough furled through a deci, then another, hanging out as long as her hand, and nearing twice as wide, the cookie clay clogging her congested colon to coral through at comfy clenches from the cobbled colon. 
	Fractures in the dough littered the mound, broadening or spreading at the undulating grasp of the surrounding flesh nozzle, unearthing reservoirs of chocolate chip and hidden goodies, all to the joy of the lion, legs trembling and hips gyrating to the continuing beat through the club, as they unleashed a cascade of cookie dough, wide as her thighs, straight onto the pole. The steaming batter engulf her stripper-pole, smooth from the heart to warp around the gleaming metal, forced to curve and coil by the mountainous pressure. the manure sprawling and tangling behind him in a heap of dotted bales. Each bale impacted with a shaking -Chhddwmptth- smack. The tension of the succulently sweet dung making its presence know as it assembled in into a rugged mountain -Chhrlsptsh- -Prtwrrrwpth- surging up past Brutania's hips and elongating tail. 
	“Mmga, aha, everyone, share, we have nothing tommg beeefmm shy about,” He howled, and now was met with howls in agreement, the lion shifting to the edge of the catwalk, hips bobbing as they swayed them out over the crowd, unleashing a trumpeting -Ppbrrwbburllrlt- of sewer baked cookie steam, their bottom disgorging whips of thick cookie putty, warping and twirling in the air, slumping down over the audience. -Chrhrlpsth- as soon as they impacted. Its lissom density moulded under the contours beneath it, sculpturing and moulding along the people and furniture the syrup drenched dough enveloped. -Dlltpshs- -Chhrusllth- it warped and drooped along shoulders as heaping dunes of molten wax, caked eager members in coiling carpets of cookie tar, and pinned unwilling participants under piles of fudge. 
	“Fmsm ahah, share now, share everything, mfms, my dears, give it everything you've got.” The lion gushed at the all more triumphant, lewd choir encompassing the club. The lion humping into the linoleum stage, shaft dispensing litres of tropical smoothie, while the foreskin ballooned in globules of mulched cock-cheese cake, sweet dairy and savoury pineapple joining the melange of oozing vapours constituting the club's atmosphere. The bulbous tip leaking molten cheese sludge along with tits oozing fluids, lugged around like a battering ram across the stage.


~ 2 ~


Brutania panted, huffing at the growing chaos around him. He slumped onto his back, pucker oscillating and peeling free from trunks of chubby dough. -Chhrthc- Cracks of bone through her legs, joints redistributing, hind swelling. His tail curled up to sprout a bustle of a rowdy top, then smooth into a brush through the sheer droves of lemon curd grease exuding from his pores. An absence of pain left only excitement. They marvelled at their feet, swelling from heel to toes, engorging with plush new bulk padding him out like a plush toy. The ridges between his digits distinguished as the plump bulk swelled around them. Each of his toes having its bottom engorged to a proper feline pad, and the whole length stretched under the -Chbrbrhs- bubbling entrance of new meat. They were sculpted as paws, though its proportions was that of a foot. The leathery softness of its exterior complimenting the gelatine interior. 
	“Mfs, oooh,” He huffed, wiggling his legs up in the air, then slowly letting the arch of the sole come down on a bale of the smog drenched, bowel batter. -Chllth- A sleek clench of grease and coils gummed the footpaw to the loaf, Brutania feeling the radiant heat from his paw melting chocolate into little puddles that trickle in the crevices between his pads, siphoned through the interspace of his toes. -Chrlsltsh- c-htshc- the mush of molten batter added a damp crackle of glue to his sole's movements. “Mmfs, awam,” he cooed, and let the weight come down on the heaping of confectionery dung. The sole sunk into the batter -Chhrllrlgwth- moulding mounds of cookie clay around it, welling up as swelling mushrooms between his toes and warping the around the sides of his soles. -Pphfhrrwhth- vents of baked in steam compressed and flushed out through orifices in the batter, several spurting spouts of chocolate and specks of batter -Spsplth- as the footpaw drove its weight to pancake the loaf into a disk. 
	“Mmfs, awmmas ooohughs, it… everything, feels soomfms, mmm…  to think, we all have the capacityfmms, to bake such amffr-…. Rwounderous batter,” he wheezed out with joy. 
	-Chrslpth- the log bending under the contours of his footpaw, till he manage to scramble up, and look out at over the cliff of the catwalk, at the cavalcade of flatulence -Chbrhrs- -PWrhfhfht-, raw sludge, -Chrspltsh-, and sugary urine spraying and indulging the club in a haze of squealing, screeching pleasure, the same haze that had captured his mind. 
	People crawled out of the dough with their physique twisted into anthropomorphised beings: eels, walruses, boars, hippos, flamingos, crabs… a kingdom of harmony, a utopia of debauchery and the sweetest of filth. 
	“Phaa, aahha, an.” Pride twinkled in his eyes. He stepped up, mane fluttering as he swung back in arc, and roared to the denizens of the club, all trumpeting, chittering, cawing, and screeching back amid the sea of moans.


~ 3 ~


In their wake, Brutania left the patches of their rectal dough, each step flatting a chunk into a pillow thick cookie, signed with the imprint of the monarch's paw, etched under the pressure of delicate plush pads and crescent claws.