The face -- _her_ face was framed by dark brown hairthat curled as it grew down to her shoulders."I... this isn't right." She unbuttoned her uniform ...hirt. Somehow,it had become a one-piece with her pants. They fell to the ground.Beneath it, a dark pink tube top struggled to contain a pair of 36-Cbreasts. Her waist had narrowed, the flesh pooling around her hips andbuttocks - she was _packing_ now. She wore a pair of dark blue jeans,the legs shredded to form a sort of skirt that flowed. I made sure my mare was happy, crept through the woods and came up behind the young woman who was obviously engrossed in her novel. I clamped one hand over her mouth and the other at her waist, yanked her up and carried her off, legs kicking wildly and arms flailing.“Beast,” she cried when I sat her down and had a good look at her. She yelled, “Help!” once and I tore a sleeve from her cotton dress and gagged her with it, ruffles protruding from her soft mouth.“Now, Miss,” I said, “you’re the. More

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