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Dear Mom & Dad,

It has been a real drag here at SW.M.U. The people are all in clicks and the professors are even worse. I had great plans of doing as Dad wanted and become a teacher, but the English Lit Prof. He's the world's biggest ego trip jerk dashed my hopes! He wants those not in frat houses to brown nose him at every turn.

Although my grades are still acceptable, I thought of looking around at some part time jobs. The pay scale was lousy and hour even worse until by chance I saw a note at the student union.

A Professor Haun was hiring paid volunteers for his Gene experiments. The whole thing sounded like something from an old "B" movie but I called and applied.

Upon my first interview, the Professor and his assistant asked me dozens of questions about family background. I soon could tell where the conversations were going. The two of them were worried of complications and wanted understudies' who had either no next of kin or foreign students.

I told them a long story about me growing up as an orphan. It was a great sounding story, almost made me begin to cry. After the interview, they offered me a contract and my first check of one thousand dollars, really!

It was a Thursday afternoon when I went to their Lab for my physical. I do not have classes on Fridays, Saturdays, or Sundays, so their testing could be more intense and allow me time to rest after each episode.

It was odd how things worked out as one of the questions asked made me think back when we still had Grandpa's farm. Remember the animals, horses, ponies, cows, and the bull!

Professor Haun gave me an offer I, at the time could not refuse. A long-term test where I could continue with my studies, the other professors at the college would send to me at the Lab. No class workings and better yet I increased by wage to three thousand per month.

The special test to which I was assigned they call it the Homo-Equinus-Dartmoor. I talked with the professor and he said that the Dartmoor Society sent the Gene therapy from England. The basic idea was to splice young human male cells and those of some equine. The resulting from that splicing culture produces a chemical mixture similar to a virus; this then becomes a blend into the Professor's Reformation D.N.A. serum and injected into pregnant mares for the final distillation. A final serum would be generated which when injected would give an animal embryo the genes for more mental ability.

I was proud to be a part in this experiment and all was going very well until last week. James Hullen, the assistant was doing two injections of my Antibiotic drug. It was as he did my injections, the professor noted the assistant had used the wrong ampoules. I received instead two loaded syringes with the H.E.D. Reformation serum.

A suddenly drug induced shock occurred, putting me into a coma like state. I came out of the coma like sleep after five weeks. The Professor had me moved to a swing room where Nurses, pretty ones, kept watch over me until all signs became stable.

The Professor came in several times each day to check my vitals and for then an odd, way he measured my toes, feet, and shins. I lie around for several days after that and felt fine.

It was on the Tuesday of the second week since I revived that my skin looked very tan. Each day after that my skin color darkened one shade or more until by the end of that week even the texture was changing.

I asked the Professor some questions, but he ignored me, and he would change the subject. I knew then that the injection was making some changes and the Prof. either did not know what to expect or was looking forward to whatever might happen.

The Lab assistants moved me from the swing room to a room without windows, and no visitors, except Prof. Haun and another man named Justin. My first day in that room noted no mirror on any wall. They removed the bathroom mirror as well this made me suspicious. My skin color continued to change darker until after another week it was a deep black and felt thicker. I had no shaver but my whiskers, which Dad says is peach fuzz, are coming in at a very fast rate. Some of the hairs grew out three inches. The long ones felt like almost feeler hairs like Grandpa's horse Buster had, remember?

It was a bad morning when I woke up, my eyes covered in gauze and also my hands and arms. I was strapped to the bed, a cathode jammed up my pecker, and another sort of suck pipe up my butt.

Justin told me it was due to a drug interaction and that for a day or two, I needed to lay quiet. I was stuck, could not move, cannot walk around or even feel my face.

It was that Sunday when the staff was off for the day; Professor Haun and Justin decided to release my bonds. The result of their visit is why I am writing you this note of explanation.

During those past days stuck in bed, I experienced such leg cramps that I know I screamed. My back ached and even my groin felt different. Hands and arms seemed strange and worse of all my sense of smell and hearing became so acute it hurt when the Prof and Justin would speak.

They told me to lie very still as the gauzed wrappings were removed, releasing the security straps, allowing me to get up, but slowly. Doing as told, I waited for a chance to sit up and or stand up.

"OK, sit up and remain calm!" said Professor Haun.

I opened my eyes to what had to be the most terror-filled moment of my entire life. Like when you about to die, my whole life's memories poured out in a flood of emotion.

My legs were what I saw first. My skin was still very dark, actually black! My toes are gone as they merged into a single solid toe. Hair, black in color grows out of my feet and they are very much longer than my size 13's. My shin and upper leg now look more like Grandpa's horse than when I walked in here some weeks back.

Please Mom, do not cry they told me this does not have to be permanent, in time I could come back. I was even more afraid when I saw a four-foot long hair tail hanging over the bedside. My changed rump is rather neat, offering me a strange sense of pleasure. The new tail able to swing, it brushes over what is tender and soft to the touch. I move the tail when walking or flicking it and find this brings me a tickling sensation.

My male part changed too, a leathery, thick, skinned sheath grew to cover and attach itself to my lower abdomen. Then held up inside me is my penis, it protrudes out the sheath when I have a need to urinate. The real sensual sensation comes as I might become erect, oddly this now happens often, and needs very little stimulation to make it happen. I am sorry to report that with this radical shift in my physical form, the circumcision that Doctor Michael's did on me is now gone. The end of my penis is flat now, having a flange like gland wrung about the end. It does swell when I become erect, looking somewhat tulip shaped, but certainly not circumcised!

My testicles have also increased size, growing larger, become quite heavy, but snug tightly and held high up in my deepened groin.

Skin on my body is thicker and more toughened like the hide of a horse or pony. You cannot see much of it as covering me all over is a coat of dark saddle brown hair. In contrast, my mane and tail are a shiny black, glistening in the light of day, making me look dashing, or so I think.

My shoulders narrowed some, drawing my upper arms closer together, this and my new forelegs seems to make walking on all fours quite simple. My neck too increased and grew much more muscular. I find it allows me greater flexibility to turn my head and look about, or offering new ways to extend my head and scratch.

I am sorry to report as of this letter, my head is now making the transition. I find this somewhat disturbing, as I am really losing my facial identity, becoming plain and the same as all other ponies. My nose is the strangest of the entire change. It grew and merged with my mouth and upper lip. The nostrils are quite soft and flex with breathing in or out. The lips feel and work strangely, but conform to what I will need for eating food, pony style.

My vision distracts me from thinking, I am very nearsighted since this all began, the ability to see things in color are also, sadly different. Oddly, I can see things more in two side views, limiting what I can see directly in front of my face or mouth.

Now I want to tell you some about Marge. She contracted for being a testing volunteer for five or more years, this granting her enough earnings to build her own new house. Since my arms rotated and became as my forelegs, my hands began to stiffen and since grew together forming hoofs.

I thought back and remembered some of dad's age, old limericks. Then I changed the words to mimic what is happening to me:

"Daniel I regret to state, had his D.N.A. changed by fate, we miss him when its time to dine, but he now grazes and eats just fine, his body strong, his maleness stout, he stands upright showing those mare's what a ponies' life is all about."

Sorry but we become often sidetracked! His Mom, I am Marge and since Daniel's hands became his fore hoofs, he is not able to write. We were good friends at the college, dating twice and then bumped into the other here at the Lab. I have become better acquainted with Daniel, and since both of us are assigned to the same testing group. His present transition is far more along then what I contracted, and willingly agreed to accept; yet we still can remain friends and be together.

About three weeks back I brought him a book from the library, one on ventriloquism. The book's author Edger Bergan was a famous actor who used two dummies; and was in the movies during the 1940', and 50's. Daniel read it during his long dull days of transitioning. He actually learned how to work his larynx, making very intelligible sounds. I write down the very words from his mouth on paper. The Professor is amazed at this stunning progress, being he had great concerns about Daniel's brain size mutating to that of a common equine.

His continued rational thing, the ability to speak, helps him fight the natural onslaught of bestial instincts, and the chemical coded instinctive lifestyle of a real stallion pony.

Enclosed, the original contract signed by Daniel. The Professor gave me a check to include. It is Daniel's salary wage. Obviously, he does not need or have the use for things like money, not since he has become a pony He says you can keep this money! He assures that more royalties shall follow, after Daniel is resides in England, and registered in the Dartmoor Stud Book.

"Please Mom and Dad, as if because of this whole situation you would prefer I should not return to being your son; I ask that you allow my movement to England. I feel good, and would not mind living inside this pony stallion form. The Dartmoor Society at Devon England, has rights in the contract and can require me for use at, and as a stud, this seems authorized. I know it might be difficult but please allow me go to England, please!

Yours still in heart,

Daniel and Marge

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"Aggravation"

My Dearest Son,

Today I received the worst shock of my entire life reading your letter.

My one and only son taken now from me by the very college your father and I thought would give you true knowledge. Instead, you have placed yourself in harms way and would seemingly find this degradation to be something wonderful. Your primary thought was quite admirable, seeking a way of repaying us for the costs of college.

Your father in on a business trip to Japan, and scheduled to give me a call. I plan to tell him of your situation, maybe not all the sordid details, but generally that his son is never again coming home. That is quite correct, as I called your Professor Haun and talked at length about him returning you to being my son again. His response was more than damning, he was very clinical, harsh and to the point. According from his own mouth, he said the accident was just that, a slip up in the testing and quality control.

His original suggestion of the possibility your chemical induced transformation might be reversed was a flat out lie. The Professor has a limited understanding concerning these new serums. You my son are the first test case, and told to be lucky you lived after the injection!

I would caution you on having high hope of returning to what you were for some time to come. The Professor suggests that the technology for that is still in the distant future.

So then I have a son of mine, soon you shall stand before men and God as if born an animal. According to your bold and so much delighted letter, you are now accepting, and willingly wishing our blessing, wanting to live your life as would a common beast.

Truly dearest, I think little of your friend Marge and her selling you down the river to these egotistical men of science.

Once your father returns I am sure he will feel as I that our son is dead to us. You becoming a proud Dartmoor pony stallion, in my eyes deemed as damnable. I am angered and heart broken from the loss. Your ultimate move to England separates me even further, sinking yourself deeper into the mindset as being a stallion used willingly for working as a stud. This is some idea so far from what your parents hope for you becoming, I cannot begin to say.

Disgruntled and saddened

Mother ********************************************

Dearest Mom,

Marge writes, I read your letter of response to Daniel, he asking me to do it at least four times. His reaction was what one might expect from a son so longing to love his mother and father. He has always worshiped you both, talking of how his parents were the epedemy in his mind of two special and loving people.

His transformation was not by his choice, but as a terrible and random act. He and I both had similar plans to repay our loving parents with the extra money earned by becoming test volunteers to aid science. It is from knowing Daniel and seeing how once he knew what was to be his present fate, this great person held on to the hope of returning to live with his parents. Your damning letter changed him more than the serum.

Having lost his hope of becoming human again, his mental attitude has swung toward living the life and lifestyle, as would a pony stallion. He speaks and plans diligently with the Professor and a Miss Jane Pennyford. Their counsel and planning would place him as a prime Dartmoor stallion at stud in the pony register. They plan to fake his heritage, suggesting he was the product of two great animals, both though as if now dead.

In the next few weeks to come my good friend and companion is flying off to live in England. He has his own plans of conquest, delighting in his new sensuality. Daniel stands on all fours, his maleness erect and flared ready for the living life on the sensual side. He even went and asked me to come with him, having a lusty hope that I might accept the injections, and then become, as would a Dartmoor mare.

Since that interesting day, my own mother wrote me, replying to a letter telling of Daniel and my friendship. Her response was so perfectly similar to yours, that I felt free to chose for myself. Therefore seeing my family ties burned in effigy, scorned by someone I loved, my only hope of happiness is to join Daniel in England.

Since your letter Daniel having lost his parents love and family, he turned a new leaf. I watch him masturbate as do stallions, four and six time each day, as then building the penal muscles needed to mate like would a stallion. He prances eagerly working his new body, building stout muscle, showing a fantastic conformation worthy of a fine stallion.

Accepting and looking forward in anger spawned by your own lack of trying to be understanding, Daniel longs for his future as a great stallion. He and I talk daily, him speaking of new plans, and the special offerings from Miss Pennyford and the Dartmoor Society.

I watch him working hard to become as close to a real pony and stallion as one having a rational mind could ever want. He eats out of a steel bucket, lip grasping the grain cornels, devouring now hay, and having really mastered the equine art of grazing. It is with his mastery of grazing that pony body made the final transition, this according to the Professor. Daniel's physical metabolism, and body temperature, have all made the adjustment, making him a true to form pony.

All testing is now complete, as Daniel has made the genetic swing to his new species. The Professor had Daniel stand in the white room where he often examines those in the testing for imperfections. He had someone with a camera take a picture of our Daniel. I have enclosed a copy for you and thought it proper since Daniel and I plan to be married.

In a mock sort of marriage ceremony today I married Daniel and he me. We shall become as stallion and mare but alert mentally and knowingly live together both as ponies. I expect our relationship to be more toward the animal way, being then both as of animal form. Our style of mating will be both bestial and often without the privacy enjoyed by humans when they desire intimacy.

I can expect that since we shall be ponies and actually animal in form, our married would be rather symbolic, Daniel being a prime stud, and I but one mare of the thousands it is planned he shall inseminate.

We shall remain true friends, our relationship withstanding his constant intimacy with other mares as a simple fact of life, we being then as ponies. We both understand our place, Daniel my stud and being as a working stallion, Marge his good friend, always thrilled and happy when we can be together.

Yours Still in Love,

Prince Daniel and his Devoted Mare Marge

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Miss Jane Pennyford writes:

Dear Parents of Daniel,

Your last letter struck Daniel very hard. His parents meant a great deal to him! He has adjusted to his new form quite well and with this, his thought patterns have become much more equine.

I too am now at the same stage of change that Dan was some two months ago. My future is here at Pennyford Farms with him at my side. We talk in our learned throaty voice, planning our futures, and adding our heritage to the long bloodlines of the Dartmoor breed.

Miss Jane helps us communicate, offering as our letter writing hand. Daniel is a good name but not one good for marketing his new ability. Miss Jane decided to list him in the stud registry under the name Prince Dandy Daniel. The name made him laugh and prance in circles, the usual manner which he shows his feelings of delight.

In the weeks following his change of name, and since then a photo grouping placed onto the Internet services has the reservations pouring in. His service register for the next two up and coming years is now full. Moreover, those pony owners have remarked about his manner of mounting and mating shows he cares for his mares. He does not kick or bite them like other stallions in the throngs of mating. Instead, he takes his time, mounts, positions himself with great care, and then begins the mating ritual.

Having shown his acceptance and a desire to accommodate both anxious owners and their feisty mares, Miss Jane has moved him to a private stable building. He and I share the building, moving from his stall to mine, and visa-versa. The larger stalls are equipped with running water and automatic feeders.

Prince Dandy Daniel has from grazing and liking his surroundings gained considerable weight. Bulking out he is sleek and exceptionally muscular, standing or at a gallop, he brings many compliments from the prospects.

His human age has helped his equine form reach maturity at an earlier stage. This maturity has made our mating a real thrill, this coming from a mare's point of view. Dan and I often get it on, and why not since we are married. He was always gentle and still is as he maneuvers himself into position. Daniel gives me a hug using his fore legs, taking too great care not to scratch me with one of his hooves.

I take a wide stance offering him my sturdy body to mount. He returns the favor being gentle and softly thrusts that extremely mature maleness of his until finding the right spot. It is then he makes one quick lunge, spearing me and then feeling my grip Daniel begins his real thrusting action.

The sensation of his moves makes that of what I had as a human and lost becoming a mare totally worth the price. He has now such a massive shaft, its thrust and force to which spews out the semen brings on my own orgasm in short order. He is more than a great thrill, and after getting it on once, he returns shortly thereafter from two or three more romps.

I know you will not prefer to hear this, but after feeling sex as a mare while doing it with Daniel I have no regrets!

Miss Jane is planning to have Daniel try mounting three times daily. Once a week the Vet comes and with the aid of Lilly, they collect specimens of his semen. The semen will be for sale to other stables where they will use it to impregnate mares by artificial insemination; it does not even sound like that is a thrill.

He has made us all proud of his accomplishments. Accepting his stallion body and way of life gives me goose pimples. It is a real pleasure watching him, he prancing up to the mares, mounting them with such grace.

Oh, this might be some news worthy your applause. Justin, he was the Professor's assistant who accidentally switched the medication and gave Daniel the H.E.P. serum. I heard Miss Jane talking on the phone while she stood inside of stable. It seems that in a heated discussion with Professor Haun, the good Professor injected Justin with some Welsh Cob serum.

As I understand about Justin, as according to the new schedule he is to arrive here sometime next month. Once he gets here, Justin will over a time mature, then gelded, and used as the inferior male. As what I mean by inferior, the male pony is gate locked into a small pen and introduce to a mare in heat. She will smell a male and show her tendency whether willing to mate or ready to fight. This test is for Daniel's protection, less he sustain an injury from some aggressive mare. Justin having become a hearty Welsh Cob type of male pony will become excited and long to mate. Sorry for him and his lack of ability, once erect and lusting he will have to learn the ways of a gelded male horse.

Until we have time again to write, This the thoughts of Daniel and Marge, Written by, Miss Jane Pennyford. ********************************************

To Marge and Daniel Dartmoors,

As Daniel's true mother, I am writing just because I am his Mother. My husband does not know of this letter and would not approve if he did. Please keep me informed of my Daniel, his health, his friends, but do not mention his sexual behavior.

I do not know if you can understand how I feel betrayed with my only Son now prancing about in a pasture. The plans we had for him and our life together was so perfect until that stupid mistake which caused all this to happen.

Please convey a Mother's love to her Son when next you see Daniel. I hope for his sake, he has not lost his memory of me, as from living there being that pony.

Sincerely,

Daniel's Mother +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Miss Jane Pennyford keeps Daniel's Mother up to date on his progress:

Good Day,

Our mutual friend has been having quite the time of his life over here in England. He informs me of your decision to continue contact by writing letters. I have learned to listen carefully when either Daniel or now Marge use their incredible ability of Equinic mimicking a human voice. We spend a lot of time, him speaking slowly crawling out words, and me writing them to paper. This ventriloquism is something so special, allowing a window into the lives and lifestyle of animals, knowing feelings, wants, and in Daniel and Marge's case, their thoughts.

Since Marge entered our family business, after asking of the Professor to transition her species. The serum used upon her was from the same lot number that made our Daniel such a handsome stallion. She stands and looks as if she was a close relative to Daniel's bloodline. Her Seal brown color of hair enhances the black silky mane and tail, coupled with refined conformation (stance) makes for a truly fine Dartmoor mare. She has such a willing heart, having urgent desire to live and experience the life of a pony mare. Her passion for life and Daniel has now reached a peak, as of last Thursday, when our own in house Vet announced of her pregnancy.

Your last letter asked me not to relate of Daniel's experiences, conquests, and the like. Although, he has reached high, setting new records, while making us a great deal of money. As his part in our profit margin he is to receive a royalty, with this in mind I have enclosed a check for 9,000 American dollars. Please do accept this money as per Daniel's wish, and as he wants you to save and keep his royalties.

Also, and on the same note our accountant would also appreciate your cashing those other royalty checks previously sent.

Daniel is mentally quite alive and enjoys the company of my son Gerald. The two go out together, Gerald riding Daniel, Marge trotting along side. It is interesting how Daniel and Marge together have shown Gerald the proper manners of riding. They speak to him, he knowing of where they came from and how they both were. Together with Daniel, he rides him at the horse and pony shows, Fairs, and shows them before the judges. We both chuckle at the stunned faces of Judges and onlookers when Gerald gives either pony extreme detailed duties. They cock their heads and listen carefully, I suspect our language and dialect tends they do not always comprehend our meanings. Yet they do as then asked, and when finished return to Gerald's side and bow on one knee to their audience. Acting, they seemed born to that vocation, making Gerald as much a star and our farm the benchmark for excellently bred Dartmoor ponies.

Daniel and Marge are quite endearing, as Gerald suffers from a rare form of Epilepsy. This disease causes muscular disability, making horseback riding for Gerald as something almost impossible. I am so grateful to Daniel and Marge, their coming here has become a true blessing on my family and our farm.

I have a desire to write also to Misses Justin Markus, his recently widowed wife. A strange sort of accident in town occurred, while he stood harnessed to our delivery cart, only to turn suddenly, sidestepping into the path of a large truck. He was killed instantly, a very strange occurrence indeed. His misfortunate injection, transitioning his species to that of a Welsh Cob type pony, and then from a mixing up of our records, he was gelded! It was after that he used his as the regular inferior stallion, testing mares for their excitability before hobbled and set before Daniel. It is a rather dishonoring job, his testicles removed, the poor pony stands passion struck, erect, and without any way of relief.

Till next month,

Miss Jane Pennyford +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

My Dear Mrs. Markus,

I wish to express my deepest sorrow in the passing of your late Husband, Justin. We here at Pennyford Stables appreciated his work, considering he had some imposed limits on that vocation. He always stood his ground, as if stout and ready to offer of himself whatever task our stable manager put before him. Justin's sacrifice of self was a benchmark to all his peers. I saw how he worked around with our stables, longing to give of himself, as his every thought was to give pleasure to others. That very pleasing manor he presented with people, and or horses, stands as an example to us all

We here at Pennyford Farms could not begin to offer enough praise, his coming here was a real blessing in disguise. He graced us with that pleasing manner, whether people or horses, he was an example to us all. Many of our special guests and some acquaintances will undoubtedly miss him, as he is a real hard one, to replace!

I have enclosed a check for $10,000. American dollars, this is the standard payment authorized by our Insurance underwriter. I am truly sorry the amount of coverage were not at a higher limit, as this coverage was just a Perk, offered to special ones on our staff.

A package containing some of his more personal items should be arriving any day. The normal items as his wallet, pictures of his wife and children, he kept near him as a constant reminder. I also included his favorite riding croup, he feeling from time to time, a real need for its use. Also enclosed is the personally I.D. inscribed bridle, bit, and reins he held so dear. His was an endowed life of service, to which he never really got in touch with but always kept a stiff upper, you know!

His special friends like Dan, Marge, Lilly, Annie, and many others, they all being witness daily to his personal wanting to please.

Servicing All in Need,

Miss Jane Pennyford +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ A disgruntled widow replies to Miss Jane's letter of subterfuge:

Dear Miss Pennyford,

I received your kindly Bull Shit letter today, and wish to give you my thoughts. Really, you expect a lot if I am to believe the web your letter wove!

Professor Haun was a little more direct when he came to me and suggested I see Justin at work. It was when my kids were in school I arrived at his Lab. He sat me down and explained how Justin messed up, an accident he said, injecting himself with a trail serum.

He let me into the Medical section of his Lab where strapped to a bed lay what was left of my marriage and husband. Justin, his chest bloated, skin changing in patches to deep black coloring. Screaming, terrorized of what was happening to his body; balling and crying when he saw me standing at his side. He tried to reach up a drastically changed hand, looking mostly as if a hoof, wishing to caress the face of his loving wife. Then the Professor with that wonderful bedside manner, informed us of the serum would effectively make my husband into a complete horse.

The Professor sent me money to support our lifestyle and the children's schooling. Justin, whom they allowed me to visit on the day before he and two others, special volunteers as ponies were off for England. As if by the Professor's plan, my dear husband could not communicate other than whinny, snort, or get erect. Worse yet for Justin, was the directive I saw on the Professor's clipboard, ordering of my pony husband to be gelded upon arrival in England. Little wonder according to your letter that all around saw his personal need, no doubt it was hanging rather stiff.

I have placed my children safely in the custody of Justin's parents, this since the Professor was kind enough to poke me with a similar serum. So, then in the next few months your stable will have another disgruntled horse, me!

With all my hate,

Mrs. Markus

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PENNYFORD STABLES NEWS LETTER: December Issue

Our Stables has become a busy enterprise as the new stock arrives weekly from America. The endless work of our favorite Professor Haun has brought us highly refined specimens or the Dartmoor, Exmoor, and Shetland breeds.

Prince Dandy Daniel...................105 stud fees since September Prince Andrew............................72 stud fees since July The Great Sebastian.......................68 stud fees since July

The list could go on and on, but this gives the scope of how much we are getting our share of the breeding market.

Please feel free to contact the management if you have any ideas for making more of our business. Prince D. Daniel is our mascot Dartmoor stallion at stud.

As from his photograph, anyone can see his champion conformation, he taking great personal pride using his excellent heritage for breeding and caring on the Dartmoor line of excellent ponies.

His passionate and gentle demeanor manner has become as an example to other stallions, they too acting all as if gentlemen, while standing at stud.

The energy to which Prince D. Daniel mates has placed him well in the lead, as with mounting and mating, he is always a success generating pregnancies. His reaction after a successful mating session comes with a trumpeting whinny, he pawing his forelegs in the air, while remaining then standing upright behind the mare, displaying that exceedingly long erection for a few minutes.

He shows and seemingly takes great pride in mating a mare well. His stately pose after each mounting and that look of being plainly satisfied, has become his trademark.

Now to a sad thought, as the accident that occurred in town last month did kill our teaser gelding, Justin. Since then we used several older stallions as teasers, these proving to be a problem. Luckily, our American laboratory has found us an excellent teaser animal. He is a large Andalusian Donkey standing twelve hands high and having an exceptionally kind demeanor, even considering he is a gelding.

Now, it has come repeatedly to the management's attention a number of rumors circulating about our Prince Daniel and his stallion friend Prince Andrew. The foolish suggestion that he was anything other than a stallion pony is absurd! This silly assumption arises from the animal's male organ looking quite like it was circumcised.

According to our Veterinary, the male pony organ can from time to time appear as if circumcised when fully erect and ready for mating. As some might know from experience when mating bulls, goats, and dogs, their male members can appear rather pointed. Continued rumors can only damage the excellent reputation of this established stable. If those perpetrating this hoax are ever found I can promise them many years of imprisonment, and personal disgrace.

A happy note:

Our Gerald Pennyford is next month leaving to work with the Professor Haun at his Lab in the state of Wisconsin, U.S.A. He will be working with our famous Professor Haun, while at the Sunrise Research Farm near Appleton, Wisconsin.

Miss Jane is as you might expect, concerned for his continued good health and safety, as we here ask that those interested might write him often.

The Professor and his staff has attained considerable working knowledge of Gerald's blood disorder. During his study at the veterinary schooling, there are plans for his medical testing by our research laboratory. If the Professor's promise to Miss Pennyford culminates properly, he states a vibrant and strong Gerald should return home next Christmas.

Pennyford Stable News.

**********************************************

Sybil, Daniel's real mother writes to Miss Pennyford:

Dear Miss Pennyford

Since our Daniel stopped being himself and live now in England, we as his parents have lost our Son. His self and lifestyle are so foreign to our way of thinking it has caused some changes in our lives as well.

My Husband became very disturbed about Daniel's choice of lifestyle. His attitude toward me became ugly, as we quarrel often, and have come to blows. Our marriage has since fallen apart and he lives away from our home.

Your letters have filled me with longing to see him and talk with him, but due to the breakup of our marriage, I simply do not have the funds to travel.

Daniel was my only boy, and so my want is to be as close to him as possible without living in a barn. A visit to Professor Haun brought his suggestion I too could receive an injection, becoming then as a mare to live near to my son.

I am embarrassed to speak of it, but his offer excites me while also making me very nervous. I love Daniel, my boy or as a pony, he is still part of me. I think about the transition as explained by the Professor. He can be rather brash and suggestive telling me openly of my lifestyle as a pony mare. His erotic humor mixed with sexual connotations worries me greatly.

The Professor is cute in his wording of a life in your pony stable. My asking him about being a factor with me going through such a massive transition. Wondering, since I am mature and past the proper years of bearing children, being well beyond forty. He says will not matter as the serum adjusts uterus to become equine and as being a mare I could bear young for many years to come.

What worries me most is that I longingly desire to be near my Daniel, yet then too; my son might forget and wanting, wish to mate with me. This form of [CENSOR] would wear against my religious up bringing. I know that it means nothing to an animal, but in mind, I would not be a total animal. This is a very real concern to me, and would not wish to mate or become bred by my own son.

However to be quite truthful after rereading Marge's many letters I have a fantasy desire to feel what she described, the sensations of a stallion mounting, thrusting, and mating. As if feeling infected by some erotic passion to become as is my son, standing on all four, naked to the world, and living day to day as do the beasts of the fields. I want it, but worry if I can trust the Professor. While I was talking with the Professor and noticed a large wall chart listing a long list of animal breeds, names of serums, and sparsely shown were names of volunteers, those already involved in the tests.

I have lived a long time as a rational human and giving up all to become something that lives for the sensual moment, fosters discontentment. As if you knowing my thoughts for joining Daniel's world one could maybe understand. My parents are deceased, I have no brothers or sisters, and without Daniel and his Father, I am alone!

I guess all things put in their place the one thing that worries me most is being as a mare used primarily for breeding. The Professor was quite poignant about farms requiring all animals to have some primary use. Me being female, a mare, and of maturity would be most likely placed into the breeding stable. His accounting of my duties and the subsequent sexual use of stallions and my body made everything brutally clear. As according to him and his demeaning ideals of women in general, he would consider me nothing more than a whore, standing calmly available there at the pleasure of a stallion.

My Husband was a kind man, thoughtful, and an excellent provider for his family. He had a gentle way when pleasuring our selves, the memory of him is still vivid!

The obvious intent for me joining Daniel is of a sexual urge to know life as he does. As his mother, I wish to be near my son but this prevailing and constant talk of sex, mating, and living as do animals has infected my imagination. I have dreams now of being a mare. I watch P.B.S. and Animal Planet channels for entertainment. I visit the local library, reading books upon books telling about Dartmoor ponies, their habits, and breeding.

Please write soon and correct me if I am amiss, but ponies kept and used primarily for show have but one constant use. That one real use is to mate and increase the size of their herd, add to a farm's profit margin, and lastly seek some tiding of pleasure for being part of the Equine realm.

I even stooped so low as to check some porn video sights on the internet. As with my eyes glued to the computer screen, I drank in scenes showing of a stallion ramming his black penis into the mare. A saw him mount, thrust, and rut the mare in a harsh and beastly rough manner. The stallion bucked his pelvis several times, thrusting until he stiffened when his semen erupted into the mare.

I found myself drooling, captivated with imagining myself as the mare. Seeing her reaction, as if the suggested willingness for her stallion to dominate. Standing with hind legs spread wide, head hung low, she turned to gaze a look back at her mate. I groaned with the mare as she lurched feeling his every forceful thrust.

Seeing this on the screen makes me long to know the feelings of a stallion mounting first hand. I now think of this as something both mentally and physically exciting. As if now I have a sense of euphoria, understanding my own long lasting passions, I believe with time you would have one instinctively driven brood mare.

This could lead to ruining my relationship with Daniel, as the primary reason for me being a mare was to be near him. If after some time my mental awareness fades and I become as some ignorant mare, at that time I would plead still not to be ever mated with my Daniel.

My Daniel is a Dartmoor breed and the Professor is always talking about Exmoor or New Forest breeds, is there a difference?

I would ask about the new pony breed the Professor suggested but I cannot find any info or pictures. (Devon Shires)

Before I chose, please write me with info and or photos about the stable.

Sincere Thanks,

Sybil **************************************************************

Miss Jane Pennyford writes to Sybil, for Marge the mare, with great news:

Hi mom

Word was that Marge is pregnant, this is quite true but after a couple of months along her recent scan suggests the foal is factually a human baby.

Baby, yes it is a baby not a pony foal! We do not understand this but she has asked to carry the baby along to delivery. After that I must make plans how to explain, and legalize the child.)

"Marge" I was surprised and thrilled to hear of your plans of coming and living here in England. Daniel was so overjoyed he walked around for two days with a massive hard. He asked id his Dad coming, as well.

Miss Jane came to me and informed me of your plan of accepting the injection, and then to join our Dartmoor family, to this idea I would think it dubious. It is from my now longer experience that would suggest this plan to be a foolish idea.

If not for my physical youth and athletic stamina, I truly believe the stress of transition might have caused brain damage or worse. The Professor has nothing to lose offering it to you, since you are just another lanky female for his test tube.

My sensual experience while with Daniel was for the most a great delight. It was with him mating other mares, those born to be ponies, after mating them he began to get a good bit more brutal. He bit me in the neck, drawing blood and when asked about it, his answer suggested I was unfaithful, and had mated with some other stallion.

I would like to make you an offer, as soon I shall give birth to my first baby, he will need a mother to raise him. Miss Jane agrees with me and will send you details of an apartment and payment for being a surrogate mother.

From the voice of Daniel:

Wow, I heard the great news about you coming here to live and be near me. I was so excited after hearing the news, that Miss Jane shut me in my stall for two days. My usual reaction to such a stimulus is an erection, and I got so damn hard, it hurt.

I cannot begin to explain or tell of all the wild and wonderful sensations and feeling I have being and living inside the form of a pony.

When I go to pasture daily with my mares, we graze and play, frolicking and finding new ways for personal pleasure. It is from those pleasures and my extreme sensual stallion self, I find myself thinking of mares as just some expression of sex and domination.

My dearest wife Marge has left me for another and got herself pregnant. I have turned the corner and look to earth born mares for my regular delighting. The farm here is quite large and has many pony mares. I know of my reputation and get to mate almost daily with mares trucked here for my high quality semen.

Those promises of the Professor mean little to me anymore. I have graduated, becoming a virile stallion Dartmoor pony at stud, and like it! He had suggested a long time back of my possible return to being a man, but this idea does not seem worthwhile.

As time passes, I feel more the pressure from Equine instincts, my mind clouds and only stallion thoughts prevail. It takes a good two days cooped up in my stable stall before I can think, and make my thoughts known in human terms.

I asked of Miss Jane to write the Professor and offer you to come and live here, but as one of my brood mares. The thought of us mating instills me with an excellent hard. I would show you a great time, my pony penis extends out twenty inches long. There is enough girth to make even an experienced mare go crossed in the eyes!

I watched you and dad many a time at night and think you would be an easy mare. You moaned for him but with my shaft buried so damn deep the sheath will tickle your lovely sensual lips.

My ability to thrust and turn my cock inside a mare, since then my life has become one of daily rituals. I wake, shake all over, get a drink, munch a breakfast of pasture grass, or if in my stall green hay and a steel bucket filled with mixed grains. I drink on occasion, long gulps of water. Then the tummy filled, I will stand and stretching out my body long and lanky, I take one huge long pee.

The scent of my urine is like a pony universal call to work. I begin to think rank thoughts of sexual conquest. The mares see me and whiny, begging with tails held high for my sensual pleasures. It is then when my day begins and as a true stallion sold for his stud, I delight in the stable steward, his grooming and brushing, and washing my big penis. Once all tidy and clean, I prance out ready for their viewing on this new day, standing erect and willing before the owners of horny young mares.

When all do approve, then standing before them, trim of form and refined in conformation, I am lead to meet the mares.

Miss Jane writes: I stopped writing and let Daniel ramble on about his sexual excellence. He has dipped in moral character, as living the life of a stallion at stud seems to of made some mental changes.

He does talk to me and in the past to Gerald and Marge of his greed for money got him into this bestial form and way of life. When shut into his stall after several rounds of mating, his talking ability returns and he speaks philosophically. He becomes melancholy, longing to patch things up with Marge and wanting to be his human self someday.

In essence, he is becoming in my opinion paranoiac, a likely reaction of a human mind forced into a life of living as an animal used and kept alive simply for its sexual ability. This factor has caused others to crack, turning to life threatening, or personal physical abuse.

Daniel is moving closer to some type of insanity, as if the human and rational mind could not accept itself kept in a cage or stall. Considering it yourself, could you remain sane bridled and reined to a post for hitching a horse?

You might think too of a pony standing for hours in the hot sun, waiting judging at some Fair. Then too, as one need be in harness, standing beside some crude and real animal, waiting for to be of use, and bothered by thirst, heat, flies, and the other ponies' jealous ways.

In a moment of sane and considerate thought for his dear mother, Daniel expressed a verbal concern.

He said while thinking about it and hard, "Please Mom think long and hard, I'd love to see you again, to hear your voice, to introduce you to Marge, Annie, and Lilly my special friends. Yet if you come as a mare then expect the treatment as of being a mare. I am not the friendly son you knew a long time ago. As my body changed so too has the way I view life and my existence. Many times, I get frustrated, often rough in my play, kicking, pawing, and on occasion doing injury to unwilling mare. My rational thoughts vaporize then in the pasture, and when there I become a Frankenstein Dartmoor stallion with his herd, nothing more!

Please take care and I still love my Mom!

Writings from Daniel - Miss Jane Pennyford +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Mom writes to her son,

My Dearest Daniel

Plans have changed, and I informed Professor Haun of my decision not to accept his suggestion I come and live there as a mare. Your last letter proved to me that it would become intolerable. I am your Mother, the idea of becoming both animal and a creature kept for its sexual production made me feel cheap!

My love for you is very strong but becoming degraded into an animal form could only complicate the situation. Since our last letter, I have received a legal notice from your Father asking for divorce.

Father's wrath over your changed life has split our family. It was a bad day when you entered that laboratory. Daddy has entered an asylum due to his deep anger. The head Doctor there contacted me over what he called Daddy's rash fits of anger with delusions of scientific oppression!

Foolishly, perhaps, I referred him to Professor Haun, as they conversed at length about Daddy. I plan to grant him his desire and sign the divorce papers.

As Reverend Matthew's always reminds the congregation, "God closes one door he opens another for your pathway in life!" Your path changed, my path changed and Daddy's path has changed now too!

I received notice by phone informing me of your Uncle Mason death while working on his apple orchard in Wisconsin. You might remember them as my sister and her boys all died of some strange decease. A lawyer called saying, he had me in his will and left me the entire estate. It is a complete working farm and orchard plus there business called Mason's Apple Passion.

Instead of accepting the estate settlement, an attorney approached me and asked to purchase the property. Their offer of over a million dollars, and will allow me to move to Devon, England and be close to my dear Son.

Lovingly yours,

Mom +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Miss Jane Pennyford, writing the words by Daniel Great News Mom!

Daniel listened intently as I read your letter telling of plans to come and stay here at Devon. He has said it many times recently, expressing a loving desire for his mom to be close. I have taken the liberty of renting you a flat at a nearby boarding house. This will be good until you get your bearings and find a place more to your liking. Daniel went wild when I read him your letter. I read it to him after he grazed in the pasture for a good ten days. His reacted by kicking up his hind legs and running about the corral whining, and with tail held high. This is how he has begun to show glee in his pony stallion manner.

We had an unexpected addition to our special group of animal husbandry volunteers, Mrs. Justin Markus. She as you might remember was the wife of Justin the Lab tech who accidentally injected Daniel, and later injected himself. We contacted his wife after the accident and his death, giving her the life insurance money. Oddly, she approached the Professor Haun, and since then has decided to come and reside here as a pony.

My plans for her are to keep her away from Daniel. She is a tough nut case and would be best we send her to another stud farm. Her young age helped in the transition and after confiding in the Professor, he had adjusted the serum species. Unlike Marge and a few other wild young female who have come during the past months, Mrs. Markus transitioned in species and gender too!

I have no place or use for a Percheron stallion on a pony farm. As she should arrive soon a friend who owns a draft horse stud has purchased her for being one of his prized stallions. He, my friend does not know of her real heritage, and I do not plan to tell him either!

I must say that Daniel in his decision to be a Dartmoor stallion has left his mark on the earth. Few people have made such strides in animal husbandry than your Daniel. His new chemically engineered semen has, and is creating wonderful specimens of refined and healthy pony foals. Truly, it was God's wish to send him here, as he has blessed the breed so very much.

My cousin owns a stud farm in the next shire. His farm is where the Professor Haun had plans to send you, as if agreeing to your preference, and remaining his mother and not a Brood mare.

I agreed with him about this idea, but with the news of you coming here to live and as your real self, I have changed the plans for the better. Now then, the course idea of you being as a mare is not in your best interest. Since you will not be joining his farm or ours, I will not even consider shelving the plan; instead, it is as swept under the rug.

At any rate, Daniel will be exceptionally pleased your here and friendly to his decision, that of remaining on permanently as our best and most respected Dartmoor stallion pony. Hope to see you soon,

Miss Jane Pennyford

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Devastated"

Dear Miss Jane,

I almost cancelled my plane tickets upon reading your last communication. Truly, I had some fond hope of my Daniel might soon be returned to me, being then as my son, and as his human self.

The mentioning of his decision to remain and live his life as in and from the perspective of a Dartmoor pony and stallion; was for me devastating!

As from your many letters, I have attained a reasonable understanding how, and why my son would find life as a stallion to be his preferred choice. It stems from the way young people view their place in society, as if he wished to become something special, and better then all of his friends. Daniel had an exceptional mind, and easily grasped and understood those ideals which some of us might consider as quite obscure.

His mistaken injection was the Professor's cute way of forcing him into a sensual situation to which a young and impressionistic young man might consider as his special calling. Daniel wanted to be special and since becoming your prize stud animal, he became twisted, perverted in his attitudes.

Daniel might have made of himself a great doctor, but instead he is little more than a sperm donor. His bestial lifestyle and the common mannerisms he portrays in his many letters only suggests of just how low he has slipped into being as, and acting like a normal equine animal.

I shudder to think of the Professor and his lurid suggestion of myself becoming a pony too! His eyes told me of one who would enjoy watching a woman, nakedly standing before his watchful eyes and then mutating first into something similar to a beastly whore. His poking and prodding of my sex, the way he began talking about me as if I were just something, as if a beast, or were totally under his control. I remember how he reiterated, telling me of how my son Daniel would find me irresistible. The continued stories on how a stallion procures his conquests over mares. It was as if I was being brainwashed, forced to accept a life and body, that of a Dartmoor mare.

His many references to the repositioning of my vagina, how and when it became equine that I would find my mating, humped by a stallion, as most preferred way of enjoying sex.

As if having chemically induced dreams of wild and wet situations, I would dream of feeling myself humped by a stallion. Time after time, I would awaken in a sweat, my entire body feeling as if I were really feeling the stallion bored deep within my body.

Mind bending drugs he used tempting me to run and try to mate with real ponies, running about in fields, lurking in stables, and worse.

Yet after all this temptation I found peace and contentment in being yet the mother of my son Daniel and having that forlorn hope of his returning from this sordid situation.

I am still coming to live there with you and near my dearest son Daniel. The knowledge of my husband residing at you cousin's farm offers some comfort as I might visit him from time to time. His rough demeanor would seem proper as he was transitioned into a mature Exmoor pony stallion, this done by our Professor. I am sure that given his druthers when not feeling the depression of a ruined life; my dearest husband would never have agreed to his new state.

In ending this communication, I wish to confide in you, of Daniel's half sister, Constance, our adopted daughter, to whom I shall leave our home and the attained wealth we have in the bank. Placed with her safekeeping I have the letters and documents telling of the Professor and his associates; this as insurance against my possible infection or poisoning.

See your soon,

##################################################

Pacification

Dear Connie,

I want you to promise me that all my letters will go into the safety deposit box at the bank vault. Your warnings to me about the Professor and his cohorts of science are the prime reason I also now believe we should keep an on-going record of my European adventure.

I shall write you on the first of every month, unless something special occurs that warrants your making notes and filing it in the vault.

My apartment here is the essence of English countryside luxury. I have a second story view of the graveyard and the Catholic Church. The balcony offers me a distant view of the Pennyford home, stables, and a section of its expansive pasture.

I have set up my computer and the building manager hooked up a D.S.L. for me to use as much as I need. He seems to be some officiator on the plight of the Dartmoor pony breed, and the drastic decline to almost extinction. He has a web page on the subject and its posted at:

Check this out, it gives a lot of information on the reason the Professor needed Daniel. I suspect he has some wide reaching plans so be on your toes, dear!

Tomorrow I shall see Daniel and plan as well to visit with, if possible, Marge, Lilly, and Annie. I play to take my Valium before going to the farm, less when seeing Daniel again I fall apart.

More later,

Mom

***************************************************************

Stirring the Brine

Hi Mom,

I thought to send you this E-Mail as your Professor Haun sent me a very friendly letter, offering me a personal tour of his laboratory.

My mother did not raise her children to be stupid, I saw through his scheme, since I am sure, that once he had my sorry self inside the security fence I would be just fodder for his next experiment. He had since then, yesterday in fact, called and offered me a tour, or if I wanted, he would set up a video-cam for me to see inside.

A special delivery of some French wine and cheeses in a basket turned up on my front porch this morning.

Tending toward caution, I opened the wine and poured its contents down the kitchen sink drain. The cheese he sent came from our local market and I put that in the fridge.

A student of the local community college has suddenly taken a very special interest in me, and asked me to go to a movie with him. I was blushing until he announced his name, Lee Haun, the youngest son of the Professor.

When I told him to buzz off, he got angry, and incensed, grabbing at my arm he had such strength. My judo classes came into good use as I sent the young jerk head over heels into some thistle bushes.

He screamed bloody murder and I would have just left him to his situation, but I saw something that made me mad.

As he fought his way out of the thistle bushes, his shirt ripped away showing a young man's chest but quite well coated in some rather bestial sort of hair.

He responded favorably to my sudden concern for his wellbeing. I noted to him of his hairy chest and wondered if he had sampled some of his father's recent work.

The response was a young man breaking down and then showing me his very bestial anatomy. I eyed his body well, he being the dubious representation of his father has twisted humor. As if to keep his son away from women, the professor injected Lee with one of his drugs. Similar to Daniel, Lee is from the chest down a different color of skin, (Black) and stands coated in a heavy shag of multicolored hairs.

He turned and modeled himself to me as we were in the privacy of my office.

This Professor is one mean man to his male children. Lee is in some chemical induced holding pattern, suspended between humanity and becoming as some weird breed of male goat from Switzerland.

Shaggy hair from chest to his knees but between is the sheath, and testicles, of that which belongs properly to a male goat. Lee stood before me ashamed and wishing he could leave his Father's house. He told me that his father said if he left the beastly changes would begin to advance until his son would be bleating for mercy. His passion for freedom turned him from a bashful and quiet young man, and into a sex crazed feign. He then tried sexually attacking me, lunging, showing his Billy Goat's shaft. Red and ugly in its form, I could feel a heat coming from the sexual shaft.

I defended myself and grabbing the stapler from my desk, I sank two sharp items into his shaft. The pain from those staples did the trick and his sexual foreplay subsided.

The momentary insanity gone, Lee returned to his passive self, apologizing for his brutish actions.

He keeps his distance from me now, respecting someone who carries a Bostitch stapler in my purse at all times. We remain friendly, but keeping our distances. Lee is quite upset and often has violent fits. I know he plans at some future date to leave his father's jurisdiction, as so doing his partial goatish form would begin his transitioning process. He talks now of wanting to be free from his dominant father, even if it means he were to become a male goat.

This Professor Haun is truly a dangerous man!

Please be very careful, there is something, or some dire planning working to an outcome that has finality. I believe the Professor would wish all of those who know of his body transitioning drugs to vanish into some bestial oblivion.

It would be easier legally to send his enemies into bestial life and form rather than kill them outright.

Sincere Love, Connie

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dear Connie,

Now I am nicely settled, and living comfortably in my new apartment, or a flat, as the Brits call it. My second day here had Miss Jane coming to drive me to the farm and meet with Daniel.

I keep on my toes, knowing what has happened now to so many and from this knowledge, might make my continued human existence rather tentative.

While visiting Daniel I was privy to overhearing two of Miss Jane's veterinary specialists talking. They seemed upset and both quite concerned over one young man named, Alan.

As of what I overheard, Alan tried to release to the newspapers information on Professor Haun and the Sunrise Research Farm. As if giving details and the names of those transitioned, and shown by the authorities as missing, he informed them, of the Professor's plans.

Unknown to me until recently, there is some number of people in this world that if given the offer, would willingly accept or pay for the Professor's drugs and bestial transitioning. His plan is to release the drugs in assigned sequence, as then offering first the delights of enlarged or animal shapes to genitals, as then selling a continued line of products to enhance the purchaser.

Once the process has begun, it continues unstoppable according to the proposed news release.

The specialists talked together as if to someone inside one of the security pens. They made mention of the Professor's threat, that of if he discovered the leak, those at fault would be imprisoned and personally disgraced.

When the two walked away, I went and peered into the security pen. There hunched down into a crumpled lump of flesh sat, what appeared as a man but being nearly transitioned to the form of a large boar hog.

I spoke the name Alan. This made the thing look up at me, squeal in a piggish way, and try to cover his maleness from my view.

My nosey ways got me into the farm's office and there using the classification under the word "Pig" and then by the name of "Alan" I found his records.

The farm computer had everything, Alan's full name, date of birth, social security number, and his full life long list of schooling and accomplishments while working directly under the Professor.

I made a printed copy of this record and sent it to our mutual attorney, as if then for keeping it safe.

As per the records, Alan is becoming a rather ugly Polish China breed of swine. Although left to being male, he will soon become a boar and like fully gendered male hogs, his duties are as simple as are, is our Daniel.

Again, caution is most defiantly the order of the day! The special Reformation pony drugs seem to have bloomed, being now able to make people into other than just pretty ponies. Some as you mentioned of Lee are to be goats, others as horses, bulls, and like Alan, swine.

I suggest you consider moving to a new and safe location. When there write to me via our attorney, he will send the letters on to us, keeping your address from the peering eyes of the Professor.

With all my love,

Mom

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Unjust Retribution:

Dear Mom,

I took your suggestion to heart and have moved to a new location, an apartment, and registered under an alias known only to the attorney.

It is interesting how Daniel began a domino effect upon our family. Once he began in the Professor's experiment he changed, but then so did we in the way we live.

Daniel's success in his new vocation had you and dad at odds with each other. You met with the Professor and after trying to work out some possible release of Daniel from his situation, the scientist tried to entice you into the program as well.

Your marriage on the rocks, dad had a mental breakdown, and there too the Professor sought to cover his tracks. He propositioned the psychiatric home, and the doctor on staff to release dad into his custody. Once he had dad under his total control he used his formula to make my father into an Exmoor pony and used him as if he was just so much a commodity.

Unbeknown to you and me the Professor has taken the imitative, as if having some sort of diabolical hatred toward our family; and has begun to eliminate the family name from the roles of humanity.

Uncle Dave and his wife Janice, I called there home phone number and discovered it was disconnected. I mailed them a letter, but it came back as "Not Deliverable/Moved." This had me worried as they were privy to what happened to Dan and when Dad too entered the Professor's realm, they protested, as did me, myself, and I.

I took the added initiative, drove to Michigan, and went to visit Petoskey and try to discover, just where Uncle Dave and Janice had moved. When I arrived at their house on the bluff overlooking Lake Michigan, I was surprised to see the name on the mailbox at the street side as Haun. Our Professor was the newest owner of the house, using it as his seasonal hideaway.

I checked with the county records and saw the actual contract of sale. It was a legal transaction done between the Professor and Uncle Dave's attorney.

Next, I looked up that attorney and had some probing questions as to the whereabouts of my favorite Uncle and Aunt.

At first, he claimed attorney/client privilege of information. It was after I asked him to represent my interests in the matter, paying him a retainer, we sat down and I informed him of Daniel and Father too.

Hearing this information the man became nervous. He listened to what I had to say, and was with the documents from all that has happened, I could prove to him what I said was indeed, factual.

That is when he opened up and we talked truthfully about Uncle Dave and Aunt Janice.

According to his notes, the Professor filed a law suit claiming the property Uncle Dave built their home on some thirty years back, was rather a property owned by the Professor. The legal papers flew about until the Professor made Uncle Dave a consolation offer, this done via his laboratory assistant coming to meet with Uncle Dave in private.

Within the week following that meeting, Uncle Dave and Aunt Janice moved away, address unknown. Their attorney received a very favorable sized check for his services, accompanied by a letter. The letterhead on that letter was none other than Sunrise Research Foundation; this is the front for our Professor and his experiments.

I then contacted three moving companies in the area, discovering then which one of them did the move, and had records as to where all of Uncle Dave's furniture and belongings went. Believe it, or not mom, the total lot of their belongings went to an auctioneer, the profits from the sale was sent to non-other than, Sunrise Research Foundation.

This tidbit of information I gave to the attorney in Petoskey, he then seeing there was something illegal occurring, opened his total file on Uncle Dave, and the sale of their home to the Professor. He is a very nice and concerned man, and after I asked him to write to Sunrise Foundation on my behalf, he helped me form a plan.

We sent a letter to the foundation informing them of a claim set forth by an adopted child of Uncle Dave and Aunt Janice. Accordingly, it mentioned of her claiming the assets of the property sold at auction were hers (mine).

I set up a fake apartment under the name of Amy Strand, this being the name we used in the legal action claim. The legal letters flew about for three weeks until one night our surveillance cameras photographed a break in and raid on the apartment. In clear and precise pictures, a step van from the Sunrise Research Farm at Appleton Wisconsin unloaded four hefty looking men. They surrounded the building as one man jimmied open the front door and entered the apartment.

Surprised, they discovered the apartment empty, although furnished with rented furniture, it had nobody living there.

The Attorney and I viewed the tapes, he now believes me a hundred percent. The four men in the pictures all appeared to have an inbreeding of the American bison in their bodies. Each had large shoulders, big ears, and noses than seemed to merge with their upper lips. All but one remained fully dressed, until in an argument before they got in the truck and left the scene, one of them ripped off his shirt in protest.

Seeing those pictures, the Attorney gasped in surprise. There on the screen was a creature of part man and mostly Buffalo. Those monster shoulders had a coat of thick wool brisket. His removing the shirt also allowed us to see on the man's lower abdomen, just above his thick leather belt, what was in fact a sheath, that of a bovine or buffalo. We both gasped when after the argument and the others loaded back into their truck, this one man, stood relieving his bladder directly in the view of the camera.

What that so called man had for a male organ, resembled something very crude and bestial. It hung from the sheath a foot long, mottled pink and brown, quite uncircumcised, then it erupted with a stream in volume and pressure that no normal human could ever produce.

This one picture of the buffalo man next to the truck having the foundation's name printed on its side panel we sent to the superintendent of the research farm.

That one picture was unquestionably our ace in the hole! A week after we sent that descriptive picture, a cashier's check from the foundation arrived in the amount of, $370,988.04, and made out simply to the bearer! Nothing else was in the envelope, no letter, or explanation, or anything to suggest of the whereabouts of Uncle Dave or Aunt Janice.

The attorney and I were dumbfounded, but his legal assistant having seen the check took note of what bank the sum as drawn against. A quick call to the bank's local branch discovered the owner of the account to be none other than Professor Haun.

Still, we knew nothing of where Uncle Dave and Aunt Janice had up and disappeared.

I went out to the old homestead and was about to leave when next door to Uncle Dave's old home was his near neighbor, Stan Gooding. On his gatepost sat a security camera, and the name of the company that installed the system.

The attorney contacted the security company, as he requested they release to him the video tapes of that month when the house sold and our relatives up and vanished.

He and I sat for hours, fast-forwarding the video tapes, until we found on that told everything in a "nut shell."

Just after sundown on one night's film, a step van from Sunrise Research Farms stopped out front of Uncle Dave's lakefront home. The panning camera caught most of what happened, showing the four buffalo men entering the property, then they remained inside for what had to be four hours.

At the recorded time of 1:23am, one of the buffalo men exited the house with what was Aunt Janice. Stumbling along on unsure footing, Auntie looked up and into the camera's sites. Her nose and face, looked distorted, bestial in many ways. Roughly, she was loaded into the rear of the step van, the buffalo man returning to the house. An hour and a half later, the four buffalo men dragged what had to have been Uncle Dave from the house.

Struggling to be free of his constraints, what they dragged out of the front door had the appearance of something more bovine than human. Like Auntie, it too looked up and into the clear view of the security camera.

A squared skull, the large bovine ears, a metal ring poked through the bridge of its nose. A chain attached to the nose ring, it was totally, naked, looking dark as if having a black coating of hair covering it from head to foot.

Once near the truck it began to struggle harshly, knocking two of the buffalo men to the ground. It looked up at the camera again, screaming, bawling I think, this the sound made when a cow screams in terror.

The last bit of video shows the truck pulling away, its box body hugged down so low from the obviously heavy load of four buffalo men and two subjects becoming as experiments, and cows.

With all my love,

Connie

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Justice is Forthcoming:

Dear Daughter,

Your letter was some interesting reading, for I can see my daughter is not anyone's fool!

After reading your letter, I had a luncheon with Miss Jane, and during our talk, I asked if the Professor had thought of branching out, and begin a bloodline of cattle.

She is very open to me about these matters, as I seem to have the Professor by the throat with a complete log of information about Daniel setting with my attorney. We talked at length, spending three hours going over in detail the plans the dear Professor had so informed Miss Jane she might expect to see in the near future.

One such was the breeding of a larger beef animal of the Aberdeen Angus type of cattle. She mentioned of two such volunteers that the Professor told her were openly interested in partaking a direct part in the program.

Miss Jane seemed to think this was something rather disgusting and quite to the idea of suicidal. As our Daniel, Marge and so many others, since their new lives being as such, breeding stock is long and sensually fruitful.

However the living life as per beef cattle is short, a year or two at the outside, as then sold for slaughter. She had a great apprehension about what those two people thought, or were told, they would have living as a cow and bull to begin the new breed.

As if in happenstance, I inquired of their names, and where they came from, the answer was almost enough to make me choke.

Miss Jane thought for a moment, and then it seemed she remembered, telling me the bull got the name David, after the biblical story of David and Goliath. The female kept her human name by choice, Janice, so Miss Jane thought, and both began their new lives on a farm near Richland, Michigan.

In the future, I will pump Miss Jane for the actual name and maybe the address of that farm, but for now, I plan to take it a little cautious. With my concern and love,

Mom +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Too Many Questions:

Dear Connie:

I am in a hurry and thought it best to send you this note.

My many probing questions had sent up red flags everywhere. Professor Haun knows of my questioning Miss Jane about his newest experiment in cattle breeding.

I went to visit our Daniel this morning, only to discover that the Pennyford farm was teaming with security people. As I was at the main gate, I watched in horror as an old army 6x6 truck went out the gate. Inside the truck, I saw Miss Jane, as she was sitting near the rear, handcuffed and looked terrified at me.

The security guard at the gate told me there was a major breech in security, and most of the management people had transferred to departments where they could make a more personal contribution to the company.

The look of Miss Jane and the few others I recognized on that truck told me the jig was up!

No doubt, the Professor is worried his special process and experiments were close to their discovery by the proper authorities. I for one, turned around and left the main gate area, headed to my apartment, only to discover the security people there and packing my belongings.

They did not know me and, or see me, so I slipped away.

This is something I had not planned upon, and with my limited assets available, I shall try to take the Euro-express to Paris, and from there fly home.

I will write you again when I reach New York; please be on your toes!

Oh, the farm in Richland, Mi. is on "DE Ave." two miles west of the center of that town. The name Schmidt, I saw posted on one of the memorandums, it was lying on Miss Jane's desk. I know for a fact that Uncle Dave and Aunt Janice are both residing there, but according to what I read they were expected to degrade mentally, losing any knowledge of family, friends, and anything that could give them a connection to their past lives.

For your personal safety, I suggest you consider them as dead!

Very concerned, with all my love,

Mom

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Mother and Daughter together:

Hi Mom,

My name is unimportant, however I am writing for your daughter Connie.

I expect this letter will be waiting for you at your favorite hotel in New York. Anyway, the Professor caught your dear daughter snooping. She went to visit a farm outside of Richland, Michigan, where her Uncle and Aunt no reside and work.

The Professor rather expected either one or both of you would come looking and asking questions about your missing relatives.

Professor Haun had previously decided to keep Connie as a permanent resident and worker on the Richland farm. Once incarcerated after her short-lived try to escape capture, the security physician administered an injection of sodium pentothal, from there we found her quite talkative too!

It was from her answers we know your general whereabouts and plans.

The Professor has written strict instructions concerning Connie and yourself. As for Connie, we have orders for her placement into the Reformation Experiment, with the expected placement within the farm pig population. As part of the directives noted by the Professor, Connie will have her name tattooed across her bristly back for all to see and for some to remember.

The Professor wanted you to know that his newest experimental formula alters the subject physically to their new species; while retaining the normal life expectancy, as for a person being like the Bible says, three score and ten years.

This life span for her should in the Professor's opinion act as a worthy and justified internment for such as her and maybe you!

As Connie will make a fine sow, the Professor thought with your guts and cunning you would make an excellent boar. He assures you both of clear minds, excellent memory abilities, and a full knowledge of who, what, and where you are when being as he would wish all his enemies to be, as Pigs!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Welcome back to the U.S. of A.

My dear woman and Mother of Prince Daniel,

I have waited a long time and expected that this would happen a good time sooner; however, once you are in your room at the Algonquin Hotel, I would appreciate you giving my room a call (Penthouse #7).

The recent letter from my foolish associate was a little too brash and he is paying for his boldness.

I would like to pay the proper respects to the mother of Prince Daniel, while offering you again a place in his life and a part of the records he shall produce.

This game of cat and mouse can go on if you so chose, but I grow tired of it and offer instead a very comfortable form of amnesty.

If decide to accept my offer of amnesty and divulge the name and address of your attorney in fact, I shall contract with you in a prim and proper way. My offer is similar to the original, granting you the ability to remain near your fine son and on occasion, when the spirit moves you, he or another of your choice can render you servicing.

Unlike Connie, and in accordance to what I have administered top Prince Daniel, his life expectancy has increased fourfold. Using a special gene borrowed from the sea turtle progeny, granting an increase in longevity. Indeed, Prince Daniel should remain young for many decades, aging one year for every fourteen he actually lives. Ultimately, he should live over two hundred years and during his long life span, the Dartmoor breed should rise well past the likelihood of extinction.

I offer you the same, living an exceedingly long lifespan, free of need, a life of ease, and nary any social repercussions from the eyes of your peers. In addition if you would consider divulging any names of those who you have discussed this entire matter; I would offer them the same contract, if not in some other chosen breed or species.

It is all in your hands to do the right thing and make the outcome of this situation easy for all. As I have said before, your attitude toward me for what happened to Daniel is unfounded. His placement into the Reformation experiment was premature.

Although his own fantasy dream of ponies and becoming one caused the formula to work beyond all expectations, becoming that Dartmoor stallion pony has since allowed new funding to enhance the process.

I have contracted with a group in the Netherlands, the loose morality there is an open door to offering people willing to pay for the opportunity of living their fantasies.

Miss Jane Pennyford, I ordered her return to manage the Devonshire pony stud farm, after talking at length, she was readily able to explain. Her farm and that of her brother will be the focus for those wishing to enter the equine life fantasy. My Netherlands associates thought that those willing to pay for our services should reside away from their hometowns and trappings. As this separation from what they considered as home would give a language barrier, granting privacy and security.

In contrast to Miss Jane's farm, I have now contracted with several other farming businesses, some in cattle, swine, sheep, goats, and exotic animals, along with two zoos, one in America and the other in France.

Ah my dear, the need for rut and feeling it is a desire of so many! The payment of a meager $10,000 dollars offers those who want such a lifetime fantasy, while giving my company the choice as where they could best be of service. A premium amount of $50,000 dollars allows them to chose their fantasy gender, while a $100,000 dollar payment puts them in the driver's seat; granting them the choice of species, gender, and where they might choose to live for years to come.

I think our attorneys have outdone themselves, as with signing and paying the required amounts, those who enter the programs grant Sunrise Research the power of attorney over their entire estates.

If you so decide to consign my contract I will forgo the leaching of your holdings, offering them to anyone you so state as next of kin.

Now please, I wish this entire aggravating situation to come to an end we can both live with, and ultimately enjoy. I will not rush you, or try to hurry you into doing something one might feel as improper. The Equine Reformation process has with time become painless and offers an excitement equal to the rush of a rollercoaster.

If given the chance you would find me a very friendly sort, and in time, you would know me as just and forthright in my dealings. I offer you a rich and long life, one filled with new sensations, personal relations, and a real nurturing of motherhood.

Awaiting your contact,

Professor Haun ..............................................................................................................

BORN, yes; But Not Yesterday:

Penthouse # 7 Professor I.E. Haun

I am as you might expect dubious of any offer coming from you since I learned the mistake that infected Daniel, was no mistake!

My concern does not stop there, as my daughter Connie according to your Mr. Schmidt, is residing and working as a sow for his farm; this disturbs me to no end!

Then I was witness to the abduction of Miss Jane, and the likelihood she would become a piece of property.

However, I do hope it is truthful on your part that she represented herself well. I never thought of her as anything but straightforward in any business matter, including my Daniel. She is as asset, and should be in management, not some damn breeding mare, sow, or whatever.

My concern is for my daughter, in fond hope that she is not presently becoming one of your sows. This would indeed disturb me, and on the basis she is safe, human, and to remain human, is my first condition as if I should sign your contract and join Miss Jane's Devonshire stud farm.

Listening, but in another room, under an alias name, please leave your reply at the front desk.

Sybil +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Daughter to Mother Chat:

Mommy,

I am well and they are treating me fine. My spirits are high, as I am of hope to join you in New York; that is when the laboratory assistants remove the remainder of my bristles.

They used that Reformation formula on me, mommy! I bloated up like a birthday balloon, ate as if I was crazy, sprouted bristles as my skin thickened, and began to degrade mentally. The assistant who is helping me adjust back to being human again is a nice man. He messages my shoulders and other places to relieve those pangs a sow feels when coming into heat.

My body transitioned completely, along with head and arms. I have since regained my arms and hands; damn it but I hate having hooves! My head is smaller, but looks the same as the other sows in my pen.

I believe the worst of this is that when I was almost a total sow, this boar mated with me, and I enjoyed it! His male piggy penis stretched me and filled me to overflowing. I think it was wrong, but wrong or not, I have to admit it was the best intercourse I ever, ever had in my life!

Terry, he is the boar, was one of those European men that had a desire to become a pig and boar. He paid money to become a pig, imagine that!

If you like that sort of life, and I guess Terry does, then it is O.K.

Personally, I will be happy to stand upright again, and not have to devour my food, as does a brute beast. The first week I was a sow the other pigs shoved me away from the trough, and I began to starve. Starvation does strange things to your attitudes; I fought to eat that slop, curdled milk, oats, ground corn meal, and assorted table scraps and or just plain garbage we ate daily.

Eating, sleeping, wallowing, and of course sex, makes up every day when you are a pig. I hated everything with the one exception of learning to enjoy sex as a sow and pig.

It is worse than the lifestyle of Daniel by far, as being a pig has its special and brutal ways. A young boar injured his fore leg, cutting himself open on a wire fence. The scent and smell of blood to a pig brings on bestial instincts, we all, and myself included, rushed at him and together we are him alive.

This would have been horrible to me as a human, but being by that time I had transitioned more than half way to a sow, I gladly joined my herd.

Well, as per her letter you can see she is becoming the young woman you remembered was your daughter. I expect her to arrive in a private plane in the next few days; and once here I hope we can arrive at a mutual settlement.

Sincerely,

I.E. Haun, Professor

.................................................................................................................

Reunited:

Sybil waits out the duration, checking daily with the front desk and looking for the notice from the Professor. On the fifth day at the hotel she asked, and received a small envelope marked as to Sybil.

She could not wait to get into her room, but ripped the envelope open while still in the elevator.

The note came from the Professor, telling her that Connie had arrived and was in room 6-C, and waiting.

Moved by her love for a good daughter, Sybil stopped the elevator on the sixth floor and went directly to room 6-C. She knocked at the door, listening for any movement on the other side of the door, anxiously anticipating her reunion with Connie.

Her wait seemed an eternity before the bolt latch on the inside, slid back and the door opened very slowly.

"Connie," called Sybil, hesitant to enter, she had learned that the Professor and his assistants were never to be fully trusted.

Then from inside the dimly lighted room came a soft and quivering voice that said, "Mommy."

As Sybil pushed open the door she came face to face with a tall, lanky woman, she glared at Sybil, but said nothing, just stepping aside and let a worried mother in to see her daughter.

Four steps down a short hallway past the bathroom and Sybil stood holding the corner of the wall, bracing herself, stunned, and horrified, seeing Connie laying sprawled out on one of the two double beds.

Stunned indeed, as Connie had become through the Reformation formula almost totally a sow when the Professor ordered her shipped to New York. Sybil stared and gawked at her daughter; expecting to see what she remembered as that young woman, it was her choice to allow Connie to remain at home when all this first began.

Horrified, Sybil's mouth fell open, as she stood shaking by the corner of the hallway, eyes panning over what was then her daughter. She had lost the strength to say even a word of love and comfort, because of what lay there on that bed, was not that much a human.

"Mommy, I love you," Connie said, seeing her mother's response to what her daughter had become, and was for the most part still quite a large and porky Sow.

On the bed laid this mostly sow shape, lying on her back and displaying the eight, sow-shaped breasts, they looked menacing and would make anyone look beastly. The bristles remained, still there, covering Connie in a hefty layer of coarseness.

Nervously, Connie scratched at her bristled flanks. She ogled her mother with small eyes, tucked deep from the amount of flesh that surround them and covered her entire head.

About ready to burst into tear for joy and at the same time nervous for having to display before her mother that vile half human and part pig and sow body. Sniffing, her nose began to run, the upturned snout and two ugly nostrils dripping a thin stream of snot.

Connie rolled over to grab a tissue from the box of Kleenex setting on the end table, only to roll back and before wiping her nose; a long pink and black spotted tongue slipped out her mouth and did the trick.

Suddenly, Connie realized what she had done and burst into tears and sobbing. She clutched her short and thin arms to her upper chest, straining to sit up and as if wishing to greet her mother in a more human manner.

The two human looking hands she had folded, as if in a prayer to plead for her return to being a human and one lovely, young woman. They twisted in anxiousness, longing to be that for her mother remembered was a daughter.

Even as she wrung her two hands together, they brushed across two of the sow tits, her highest two breasts, parting the hands and in a mindless action, as she began to tweak her nipples.

Sybil looked on, watching, her own emotions at a pinnacle of anxiety and personal horror.

The toying and fondling of Connie's hands only brought the sow teats to all perk up. Row by row perked to attention, changing Connie from her longing to be as humanly human before her loving mother. Sensation urged the animal that made most of her, as her body, to react in a bestial fashion to the stimuli.

Piggish, sow hind legs hung up and spread wide, began kicking to the rush of the sensation. A piggy tail swished in anxious desire, as from a rounded big butt began to ooze and dribble this vaginal liquid onto the bed.

"Connie," exclaimed Sybil, her astonished face and statement sinking home the thought to her daughter of what was playing out before a stunned mother.

"Mommy, I cannot stop it, I, I was a sow, and am still too much as a pig and sow to stop these things from happening. Please forgive me, but in as much I want to be your daughter and again human; my inner beast and sensual longings is to be and remain as a pig!" Connie admitted, snuffling back her runny nose, she continued to fondle her two upper teats, all making for her to appear in a heightened state of sexual sensation.

Sybil turned to the still silent woman that was there for Connie, obviously there to help this handicapped creature, defiantly as something that did not belong in a hotel.

Crying and sobbing began in earnest again.

Sybil asked the woman if Connie would soon regain her human form.

Her answer was not one of joy and delight, as the woman in very few words told Sybil that her daughter was as much human then as she ever would be again.

"The Professor promised me my daughter would be human again and for that I would be the trade. He said I would join my Daniel at the Devonshire pony stud, there taking my place as a mare and companion of my son." Sybil blurting out all she knew and expected would come true.

A sneering smile came across the tall woman's face. She shook her head back and forth slowly, then pointed toward Connie, as she said, "Once any of them taste the life of being an animal their morals go first, then with daily indiscriminate sex with any male, they adjust and accept what they had become. She, Connie is wishing even now to return to her sty and the boars. You are to join Prince Daniel; the Professor has some interesting plans for someone like you that caused him so very much heartburn. Becoming a mare, yes, you will be near your precious Daniel, he having recently degraded more to accept becoming a stallion pony; as told his mother had left him there; she, you were disgruntled and angry at him loving and being a stud."

"Not true, how dare you tell my Daniel such lies!" Sybil screamed in absolute horror at what she just heard.

Then from out of the dim light, the tall woman flashed a long syringe filled with an iridescent, blue liquid that seemed to sparkle and glow on its own.

Sybil saw it coming, the woman was about to administer the first and foremost injection of the Reformation formula into another victim, her!

Meanwhile:

Arthur Murray Comes in Handy:

A blazing quick lunge by the tall woman at Sybil had the syringe on its way toward insertion into a hip.

Sybil sidestepped, spinning on her toes, turning as a matador before the charging bull. Her hands hitting the woman, shoving her off balance and then she tumbled to the floor.

A grab for the syringe only got Sybil a nasty cut across her arm from the sharp needle.

The woman began to laugh in a coarse manner, mumbling something that Sybil could not understand.

Standing a distance from her attacker, Sybil looked toward Connie for some possible help.

Connie laid there a lump of swine like flesh, still nervously fondling her teats, and making low grunting noises.

The woman got to her feet and began to approach Sybil, the syringe pointed at the intended victim.

Sybil reached for a table lamp with the intent of using it for a sword and protection. Her grab for the lamp stopped up short, because the thing had screws holding it in place, and would not budge.

The woman gave an evil sounding laugh, then stepped another stride closer.

Sybil looked at the syringe, as it had a drip of the caustic blue liquid jutting out the end of the needle, ready to make an honest mare out of a loving mother.

"You are soon to be on your way, first to Lancaster, where the Professor will have you stabled until not a living sole could tell you were anything but a mare." The woman divulged some of the Professor's plan, as she moved closer and gripped the syringe with a harsh and evil intent.

Another hard lunge and jab at Sybil by the woman, as she dancing out of the way; only to hear a snap, and then an anguished moan.

Then a groaning sound filled the room, as Sybil saw the woman's face. Terror took away that face filled with intent and dire planning to make of Sybil a common pony mare. Instead, the woman's dire grip had broken the syringe, bursting forth its contents, and worse the sharp edges of the broken ampoule, cut deep into the woman's hand.

"Good luck dreary, you are the infected one now, I suggest you begin to learn the fashionable ways to graze and allure your stallions!" Sybil chided the woman, seeing she was also probably thinking along the same line of thought.

Connie squealed her own delight, straining to roll on her side and watch the show, for her captor will soon begin to feel the pangs of becoming a pony mare.

A Revelation:

Sybil stood to one side as the tall German woman sank to her knees. The Reformation serum entering her bloodstream by way of the deep cut in her hand. Although, this woman had a dark olive color to her skin the serum began its working by lifting to the surface an additional amount of pigment.

An expression of anguish of what would come only seemed to make her face darker. Stammering, as she strained to speak, the ability to talk is usually the first to fade, when the serum enters the host body.

"My bag, on the shelf by the door, right pocket, small bottle, antidote; you must inject me with the antidote, or the transition will commence!" The woman strained at every word, pleading, less she would soon become a Dartmoor mare herself.

Sybil went directly to the shelf and brought down the black handbag. She poked about until finding a small glass ampoule containing a light yellow liquid.

Holding up the small bottle for the woman to agree that this was indeed the right one, Sybil searched the handbag for another syringe to administer the injection.

Good person that she is, Sybil soon had the syringe filled with the, so-called, antidote, and was ready to inject the woman when Connie groaned.

Stopping, and standing still, Sybil said, "I thought the Professor said the antidote for the Reformation serum had not as yet become a thing in fact. Yet, you say this will stop your transitioning into an animal!"

Gruffly speaking, the woman straining to get out each word as her body begins to contort, muscles spasm in pain, and her ears are just beginning, to show some points.

"White vinegar, and Apple juice mixed together is the antidote; no scientist makes a serum without having an antidote standing ready. Inject me now as I feel my female organs beginning to recede!" The woman screamed out her words, in pain, and feeling as she said her internal organs beginning to move to equine like locations.

Connie moaned again, and Sybil looked at the syringe, then at the woman, and finally at her piggish daughter.

"Inject me, she can get her antidote later, now inject me, oh, oh, oh...!" The woman said, as her insides had suddenly shifted, making her uneasy for what was to come next.

Sybil stepped to be nearer to Connie, she pointed the syringe at her daughter, having the forethought of injecting her and letting the German woman find out what Daniel had to offer.

Sitting down on the side of the bed, Sybil moved the syringe close, ready to inject the antidote, and save her daughter from beastly way of life.

Groaning from the rank sensations brought on by the first changes, the woman again pleaded for Sybil to inject her with the syringe. "Please, me first, there is more antidote with the Reformation serum in my suitcase. Your daughter can come later, her changing back to being human takes about nine months. Her body will recover most of her human form, with the exception of a few things. Oh, oh, quick, inject me, me first!" The woman cried her skin was turning a darker shade, the blackening deepest around her eyes.

Sybil began to take a tougher attitude toward the woman and even Connie. This revelation of an antidote now made it possible to return Daniel unto his former self.

Angered by the Professor's deception, she now had some questions for the woman, but time was not in her favor. The transition was making the soft tissue change first, ears, nose, lips, and such; soon this evil-minded woman would lose her ability to speak and then Sybil would learn nothing.

Even with her piggish face, Connie could make some facial expressions. Her face looked quite serious, as if showing either anger or apprehension. The needle was about to enter her tough hide when, she pushed it away with her small human hand.

"No Mommy, no, your daughter is happy being a sow, I decide, I want to go back and live there, in the sty, me now a pig and liking it!" Connie spoke her mind, the Reformation process having maybe degraded her mentally to the point of finding the simple life of a sow preferable to living as a human.

Sybil was not ready to give up her daughter and family to this sad situation. A few tries more to inject Connie had the syringe knocked from her hand, and falling to the floor, where it burst into a thousand glass slivers.

Connie squealed for joy, the German woman midway in her first round of transitioning of species, began to curse and swear.

Less Than Perfection:

Terrified at the aspect of losing her life and body to becoming the Dartmoor mare she was ready to make of Sybil, this woman began to spew what would happen to Connie.

"Inject me, I have no desire to lose my life, I am a scientist and wish to remain one! Your daughter can change most of the way back to her previous self, having only a few body parts that can no longer return to being perfectly human." Her fingers beginning to knarl, cramping as the last digits kink to begin what will be in time a hoof, she rambles on and says more. "She has eight breasts as a sow, these will remain, and the only way to make her look human there is to have a sextet mastectomy. Her skin will transition back but the hairs, those coarse bristles will remain. She cannot have any human hair again, her head, body and extremities will have that coat of pig's bristles until the day she dies! Why then too, her vagina will remain in the same configuration as it is for her sow body. Although she might look generally like unto a human again, her mind has found being a pig enjoyable and from this she will always lust to feel as a pig."

Sybil began to feel choked up, she too started to cry, the realization of the antidote and her daughter's desire to return and live in the sty; was too much for her to handle.

Angered worse by Connie choosing openly to remain as a sow, she stomped her foot down, smashing the broken syringe.

The woman tried then to beg for an injection, but her lips and tongue were fast changing, making speech near impossible.

Jumping to her feet, Sybil turned and ran out the room, down the hall, wishing for some fresh air and time to think. Down the elevator and through the lobby, she walked out onto the busy New York city, street.

Determination and walking, Sybil headed toward Central Park where wondering and thinking she was gone for hours. Reminded only of the time by how dark the sky became as the sun set down behind those towering buildings, Sybil thought of returning to her hotel.

Once in the hotel and going up to the penthouse floor, Sybil realized, she had to key for the door.

Once off and out of the elevator, she went to the penthouse door and listened. The squeals of Connie mixed with bestial groans and whinnies of a woman transition species. Sybil knew that come morning the woman could well be close to looking like a mare; and the daytime Maid might not think this all as something too kosher.

The thick door presented a problem, like the one to her room it was stout and had an exceptional locking mechanism.

Sybil was about at her wits end when the elevator door opened, and out stepped a Bellhop and a Maid.

In a flash Sybil went to them, asking to have the Bellhop use his pass key and help her enter suite 7-C. Pleading of her forgetfulness, leaving her key inside the suite, she tried to sound like some airhead.

Both of the people listened but said nothing, and made no move to offer Sybil any help.

Seeing their unwillingness to help, Sybil remembered where she was, and digging into her small purse, she offered the Bellhop a $20 bucks.

A fake sort of smile and the Bellhop used his passkey to open the suites door.

Sybil gave a short thank you and went inside as quickly as she could.

Once inside she went to the main room, there on the bed remained Connie, still the same partially human pig and sow.

The sound of heavy breathing turned her attention to a figure now setting in a chair. The chair tucked into the darkest corner of the room had the woman sitting in it.

Sybil flicked on a table lamp lighting to room in a moderate amount of light.

A torn pile of clothing suggested of the woman having begun her growth spurts, changing of ribs and bones to be more equine.

A screaming harsh whinny was the greeting offered by what was hours before a human female. Now she had a face in radical change. The muzzle almost fully formed, as her ears and the skin color all said this would soon become an animal.

Sybil stepped closer, seeing the woman's feet having grown exceptionally long, her toes at the first stages of becoming her hoofs. She sat there stiffly, not moving as if in pain. Studying the woman, Sybil never having seen a person in the midst of transition from the serum, she stood with mouth open in awe.

A Message from the Devil:

The sight of someone in transition as from one species to another; is not pretty. The word ugly does not do it justice either. Facially the woman looked like she was a mare, her skull bone softening, allowing massive growth and realignment.

Her muscles too, had grown in heft and contour over the afternoon and evening hours. The skin continued to discolor, becoming black and rough like the hide of an equine. As with the skin changing, the growth of her dark brown and black blanket of hair was helping to hide her in a darkened corner.

Sybil suddenly noted the light flashing on the bedside phone, a message, but from whom.

The push of a button and listening to the receiver, Sybil heard the stern voice of the Professor, he reminding Miss Abigail to be sure to administer the second round of injections.

Sybil turned to look at the woman she could address as Abigail, knowing her name might make things easier. A search of the luggage turned up a small, leather bound box containing six ampoules of serum, two of antidote, four syringes, and one pre-filled syringe, having a printed label, "In case of failure."

She looked over her shoulder at Abigail, the woman was moaning again, and according to the Professor, she would need another injection to make the process take its course.

Turning to look at Abigail, Sybil was having serious concerns over sending even a devious person into the realms of being a beast. She felt sad for this woman, and even more aggravated at her daughter, Connie preferring to remain a Sow. She sighed, thinking then of Daniel, he having spent a couple of years as a stallion pony, as a stud male animal, she wondered if he would wish to be again human.

Another deep breath that became a sigh, she must inject Abigail or the half of a transition would prove fatal.

The resounding flop of something rolling off the shelf nearest the suite's door turned Sybil around. They're lying in a heap on the floor was one large and black duffle bag. A look at it proved quickly to her that Connie had entered the hotel inside the bag. It figured the Algonquin hotel is a posh and prim sort of place, not allowing pets and especially pigs in the rooms.

Sybil could only sigh again, seeing the problem at hand of removing Connie in her partially human form, and of Abigail from the hotel.

Connie came inside the big duffle bag and seemed likely, as this is how she would need to leave.

Abigail was another problem, being she was well along the patterned way of changing species to something large and having some real heft. The only idea that made any sense at all was for her to transition enough to leave by the freight elevator.

Cringing and squeamish, Abigail watched Sybil approaching her, two syringes filled with the crystal blue liquid. Antsy and squirming in her chair, she had no place to escape what was to come.

"Either you will die from being partially transitioned, or I must administer these two injections. I promise to stay here, care for you and Connie, feed you both, and when the time comes, you can walk out of here on all fours." Sybil said, her voice showing almost as much emotion as what Abigail could, considering.

Wincing as the first of two injections were pressed into her bloodstream, Abigail made a throaty plea, "ahek-ah," as if to say no, knowing this would soon end her being a scientist.

Connie began to squeal, seemingly delighted in seeing her captor getting the same medicine and soon, a simular lifestyle learning to accept, and live.

Sybil tried to calm Connie, but she was enthralled with pleasure, salivating about the mouth while watching Abigail go into her forth set of convulsions. As if her being part a sow urged her to enjoy what was for another as brutal. Sybil began to wonder if another injection of the serum to her daughter would return her to being a complete Sow.

Tears welling in her eyes, Sybil thought to try another of the crystal blue ampoules, injecting Connie, and maybe then making her removal easier from the hotel.

Slowly she pulled back the plunger, filling a clean syringe with the contents of one ampoule full of the Reformation serum. This done, Sybil's eyesight was blurred by her tears and in an almost fateful motion, when she went to wipe clear her eyes. The simple act was one with great peril, wiping the back of her hand to her eyes made the syringe scratch across her forehead.

The sensation of the sharp needle on her forehead made Sybil jump, jerking her hand, the thumb pressing on the syringe and plunger.

Rushing to the bathroom, Sybil switched on the light and stood terrified.

The syringe needle had scratched open a three inch long gash in her forehead. Worse, and even more instilling of terror, the jerking of her hand had pressed out a thin bead line of the Reformation serum along the cut.

Sybil stood in horror of that moment, watching as the crystal blue formula glistened in the light, and then disolved into the cut. A quick look at the syringe proved to her that just a meager amount of the serum exited the syringe. Still looking as if full to the highest makings on the syringe, she had high hope this little error would not become for her as life and body threatening.

Returning to be near her daughter, Sybil poised the syringe in the air before Connie, She told her daughter of the syringe, and her thought to give her back what she so desired.

Sybil thought that Abigail in her own peril would not likely lie, and if her daughter would retain much of her outward piggish attributes, then it was better she allow Connie to return to being a happy sow.

Abigail sat across the room, seeing Sybil inject Connie; she began to make the horsiest sounding laugh. Her eyes wide and showing the whites only extenuated her seeming to find the injection to Connie as something quite funnier than her own situation.

Sybil sat up and wondered how Abigail, in her first pangs of transition could see humor, having a good horsey laugh, as she watched Connie being injected with the serum.

Then the thought struck her, Sybil screamed realizing with a terrible resolve, the formula was prepared for making the host victim a Dartmoor pony, she had injected this into her piggish daughter.

If Not in Enough Dismay:

Abigail laughing her horselaugh mixed with a snort or whinny, Connie yucking it up with her insatiable piggish squeals of glee, and Sybil at her wits end, having to listen to their maddening sounds.

The ringing of the phone dimmed the humor, as without half a thought Sybil reached over and picked up the receiver, answering with a friendly sounding, hello.

When Professor Haun heard Sybil answering the phone, he stuttered a couple of words, displaying a shattered male ego. He considered Sybil as quite gullible, and fully expected his plan to lure her into a trap would work without a wrinkle.

Regaining his usual cold manner of composure, he then laughed once, and asked if Miss Abigail was able enough to speak on the phone.

Sybil sat for a moment dazed and nervous, then responded, informing of Abigail and of her general condition.

Again, the Professor displayed his cold demeanor, suggesting the loss of her from his plan was of little consequence. Laughing with his disgusting manner, he asked if per chance she was beginning to look similar to Daniel.

Sybil being always blunt and truthful, then explained how Abigail had accidentally received the Reformation serum into her bloodstream. She then, in a rather boisterous way informed the Professor of giving Abigail her next injection, making it a sure fact she would soon feel the affections of a stallion.

Seemingly, the Professor accepted the fact his agent's ability was both null and void of any further action as a human; he mentioned of ordering a truck and crew to come and pick up his two specimens.

Hearing the Professor talk, his tone of voice speaking with such a nonchalant "who gives a crap," attitude, the lack of concern for others made Sybil's blood boil. The horrid thought of two more lives made to waste away, more to become as objects of the Professor's scientific ego.

Sybil felt a personal resolve, trying her utmost to bring to ruin the Professor and his every attempt at causing people harm. She had no desire to join Marge and Lilly as another conquest for her son Daniel. More likely, the Professor would have made her a mare, and once under his total domination, she felt sure he would sell her to some local farm or stud as a brood mare. Her times watching with disgust as Daniel mounted, humped, and mated with both female volunteers as mares, or born animals, was not be her fate! Devout to her convictions, remembering the loving touches of her husband, Sybil was resolute she never stand willingly as a mare for any stallion to mount, hump, and have as a mate.

After she slammed down the receiver, Sybil gathered up the black leather bound box having the remaining serum and antidote bottles. A short fair well Sybil gave to an Abigail, she having fallen out of her chair and onto the floor.

The woman looked up at Sybil, showed her teeth as if in some bestial way of displaying her anger and hatred.

Sybil turned to face Connie, she was lying there on the bed, silent, eyes closed, a wrinkled brow as if feeling some pain.

Offering a few words of love and concern, Sybil stepped close, her thought to give a good daughter one last loving peck of a kiss on her bristly forehead.

Connie now thought otherwise, the Reformation equine serum pulsating in her veins. Sensing by smell of her one time mother coming quite close, her eyelids jolted open, opening her mouth wide, she made a bestial desperate lunge, as if wishing to inflict some great harm.

Surprised, Sybil stepped backwards, tripping and falling, ending up then sitting straddled over Abigail, and on her elongating neck.

Lashing out with her changing mouth, Abigail felt Sybil was directly to blame for her having to become as one of the Professor's animals.

A scramble of arms and legs, Sybil stood up and doing her best she danced out of harm's way.

Out of breath, standing and seeing both her daughter and this woman Abigail, both of them acting as if they were brute minded animals, made her feel like crying. Her fear of injury worked on her in the opposite direction, making her feel anger.

Shaking her fist at both of the changing women, Sybil opened the black box and suggested she might inject them both with what remained.

The threat of that idea made both of the changing ones turn instantly quiet.

In a soft voice, Sybil said a good bye to her daughter, expecting she would never again see Connie, as her daughter was sure to forget she ever had a loving mother.

The slamming of the door as Sybil went out started a fury of beastly calls and screams, assuredly, both inside realized their coming fate.

Sybil returned to her own room, packed her bags, and decided to return to Devonshire and her son.

Adding insult to injury, Sybil was at the front desk checking herself out of the hotel, when the fire alarm began to scream.

Hollering and swearing, two men came from the upstairs stairway, both chasing a full grown, brown bristle covered Sow. All dashed this way and that around the pillar and planters. The sow in the lead, as the two men tried their best to capture a wily Connie.

As confusion reigned at the Algonquin, Sybil strolled out the main door, flagged a cab, and headed for the airport.

Chilly Sights, from a Hot Cab Ride:

Plopping in the cab, Sybil ordered the driver to take her to the airport.

Then she went quiet, her thoughts again turning to how her family became disrupted beginning with a son, he wishing to do something for his parents.

Tears welled up in her eyes, thinking of her young and healthy son. She could remember when he went for swimming lessons, how he felt scared, but with trying it again, and again, he triumphed. Her memories of him were vivid in the mind of a loving mother. Thought after loving memory passed as did the scenery outside the cab window.

"Hey lady, I thought you were maybe going to the big masquerade party uptown?" The cab driver asked, he trying to start a conversation with a passenger seated in his cab, and her crying.

Sybil responded with a simple, "Huh!"

The driver then began asking in a nice sort of way, mentioning the masquerade party uptown, and if she was originally planning to attend.

This rattled Sybil, she having just lost her daughter to the realm of swine. She repeated her desire to go to the airport, seeing the lurking eyes of the cab driver peering in his rearview mirror.

He tried to console his then angry sounding rider, mentioning her makeup, and figuring that not too many people would be anywhere other than such a party, considering!

If Sybil was not upset before he said too much, she had something to wonder about until he tossed her a small mirror.

"The scratch," exclaimed Sybil aloud.

Looking at her face in the mirror there was a radical difference from what she remembered her face looked like. Peering back at her was a dark complexion, her nose looked upturned, nostrils expanded wide, eyebrows grown together as hair had sprouted covering her forehead, around her eyes, over cheeks, and trailing off toward her chin and neck. Tilting the mirror up for a look under a hairy chin, the reflection offered a view of two hairy and pointed ears protruding above her curly head of hair.

"No..." Sybil moaned, she raising her hands to touch a hairy face that in her mind's eye, reminded her of Daniel and his Dartmoor hair and skin.

Then she saw her hands, they too had turned a darker shade, past the word tan to almost a purplish-black, and having the beginning of pony hairs forming small clusters on her skin.

Terrified at the prospect she might go into her first round of convulsions, and beginning some strides at changing species, worse than of her humiliation, she asked if there was a stable nearby.

A quick turn from the entrance to the freeway headed the cab toward Central Park and the stable used to house the rented mounts for riding in the Park.

Soon bag and rider stood on the curb out front a stable that looked at bad, as it smelled.

Sybil did not know why she was thinking of giving in, letting her convictions falter and submit to the ultimate designs of the Professor. She had seen enough, felt tired of trying, knowing in her heart that like Connie, Daniel would never wish to again, to be a person.

The relentless schemes of the Professor would in time find her, and then what would he do to her. He might be in a foul mood and damn her to be as Connie. She might humor him and end up with a pony stallion humping her until she was pregnant with a foal. Her aggravation might suggest she should join her relatives, they as Black Angus cattle on a farm in Michigan.

Sniffing at a runny nose, she wiped away a tear, and looking at what might become her home, Sybil picked up her suitcase, and headed inside the main door.

The stout smell of urine and manure tweaked her nose, as she sneezed twice bringing from the small office an old man.

He gave her a quick look, saying nothing as he pointed down the barn's dark isle. Then he motioned for her to follow him, which she did without question.

Looking at the stalls when Sybil passed by, some were filthy, while others clean but had that same pungent smell. She took note as each stall had a nameplate, all bearing a simple, one word name of the occupant.

The man stopped at the very last stall, opened the Dutch door, as he then motioned for Sybil to look inside.

The stall was quite large compared to the other small and narrow stalls. She took note of two steel buckets, one filled with water, and the other empty and likely used for feed. It was quite clean, having little hints of any rank odors.

Sybil looked back at the old man, she showing a face in transition and of a mind filled with concern.

"You like, this is satisfactory, I did as you asked, cleaned the stall with hot water, washed it, added fresh straw, all set for your purebred Dartmoor pony mare," stated the old man, his face looking almost as concerned, if but for a very different reason.

His words made Sybil stop and after considering what he had said, she broke down in tears.

Now there were two upset people in a stall!

The old man stepped forward trying to offer the dear woman some comfort. He soon took notice of her hairy hand, of the texture of skin, it feeling like unto the common hide of a horse. He then looked her closely in the face, seeing, and then taking note in his poor vision of a woman looking quite like one of his mounts; at least facially.

Sybil a bundle of nerves broke down, falling to her knees, she knew the Professor had rented the stall expecting to transfer his prime pony Dartmoor mare from the Algonquin to this stable.

The man knelt down on one knee, asking some pointed questions, seeing before him a what was a woman beginning to resemble a Dartmoor pony.

During the next two hours, Sybil spilled her knowledge of the Professor, her son, a daughter and of others who all lost their humanity. She showed the black box, the serum, antidotes, and the one syringe made for use if a failure.

An attentive old man listened, seemingly understood, and then asked the one proper question. He said, "Lady would you like it if I gave you the injections?"

Sybil looked at the man, his face old and wrinkled told of someone who had seen a lot of life come and go. She sat there ready to let him do the injections, holding out her arm and shaking her head as if in agreement.

The clanging of an iron triangle up front meant a customer was in need for some service. The old man turned and stood up, smiled, and then without a word, he walked away from Sybil and out the stall.

Sybil sat there thinking and listening as she heard the man's cowboy boots clomp along the cobblestones of the barn's center aisle.

"Hi Bob, you're looking well, sorry but I have to cancel that reservation for the clean stall. Yea, the ole mare broke loose and got away, no doubt she is lost somewhere in the city or beyond," said a voice Sybil had heard before.

Jumping up she peered past the upper rail along the edge of the stall. She knew that pudgy looking Chinaman, Professor Haun himself, he standing and talking with the old man he had addressed as Bob.

Bob then pointed down the length of the barn toward where he had left Sybil. The Professor laughed uproariously, saying, "She is?"

Quickly Sybil scrambled to gather her few things into the suitcase. She wanted nothing again to do with the Professor and or his delight in her becoming a Dartmoor mare.

Angered at her own lack of resolve, she slipped over the stall's back wall, moving along another isle, and headed for the main door and freedom. Once at the main door she heard heated words between the Professor and the man he called Bob.

Crouched low, Sybil headed for a nearby cabstand, flagging one, opening the rear door and sliding over the seat, trying to stay low.

A flicking of a quick twenty-dollar bill into the front seat, she ordered the cab to drive and head for anywhere else, New Jersey!

Back at the Stud Farm:

Miss Jane was quite happy to be back in the good graces of the Professor and his research foundation. Having passed all the questions and probing she was able assure her business partners that their security and integrity had remained safe and secure.

Her Dartmoor pony stud farm had become a busy enterprise. Prince Daniel was the prime stud, but with the continuing experiments back in the United States, she would receive a bi-monthly shipment of new stallions and or mares.

The propaganda produced by the Professor and his group she believed until just recently, when from a security scare, for which she almost went out to pasture herself. She now looks over the dozen or so signed copies of contracts, those that fill the file drawers in her office. The names and dates of young people top each file, all of those listed there a picked volunteer, and all thinking themselves as a part in a great scientific experiment. In every contract was a specified date when whether stallion or mare the foundation had an earmark for their return to the USA, and for reintroduction into society.

It all seemed so very prim and proper, yet Miss Jane had a concern or fret over those she sent to mate and become mated.

Indeed, she once thought of herself as just a major cog in a great wheel of science. Her part was to manage those young stallions and mares to mate and produce a new, higher quality animal for the show ring. Then once they had completed their contracted time of usage, she planned for each to return to the United States where by some antidote they would again become people, only a good bit richer.

Even her son Gerald went to work for the Professor in America, he having written a few times since. His working alongside the great Professor Haun at the Sunrise Research Farm outside of Appleton, Wisconsin could only aid her youngster to gain in health and knowledge.

Gerald Pennyford suffered from a rare blood disorder, a condition he contracted soon after Daniel, or Prince Daniel arrived at their farm.

The Professor boasted of his research facility having attained a great knowledge in the blood disorder, of what Gerald so often became sick and felt great pains. In fact, the Professor had originally promised Miss Jane of her son returning by the following Christmas, suggesting he would be quite healthy, strong, and feeling vibrantly alive.

Gerald went to work for the Professor and other than a few short letters, those at the home farm have not seen, or heard from in over a year. Miss Jane asked about him often, told by those at the research farm that Gerald was able to reach a phone, but they assured her of his being informed of her call.

The Professor saw Gerald as just something to keep his mother in line and doing what he needed to move his plans forward.

Just after Gerald arrived in the USA, the Professor began his slow indoctrination to the Reformation serums. As he does with so many others, the Professor thinks he owns everybody around him. Gerald would soon realize this first hand, he thinking the Professor was treating his blood disorder, when actually he received a daily injection of some new Capra Hircus blend of the Reformation formula.

An anxious letter from a worried mother to her son became an angered second request letter from a mother to her son's captor. In response to this letter of accusations and threats of reprisal, the Professor sent Miss Jane Pennyford a scathingly horrible letter.