She managed a single gasp of horror, before her faceelongated as well, her eyes blurring as they changed to those of a horse.The final changes took ov...r her face, leaving nothing physical of the oldMrs. Weaver, only a bald horse, but that changed, too as light brown fursprouted from her body. She could only stare in horror and watch her ownson's tranformation.Greg was now on his back, his hands and feet finished as well, fur wasalready covering his body, but that was the least of his worries.. “Shall I get the express train to shoot out of the tunnel and see it derail all over the landscape?” She teasingly suggested. It was a metaphor we’d used before. She loved masturbating me and watching my cock jerk as the semen shot out. I called her the controller of the line. It was always her call to get the train going.“It’s up to you, darling. You’re in charge” I said.The linesman got to work. She softly clutched my taut balls with one hand and then dragged the nails of her other hand. More

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