A cold and dark room

Janet awoke from an extremely deep sleep still stunned by that strange chill running down her spine and into her legs.

The numbness was still strong as she woke up, her mind seemed disoriented, her head heavy as if she carried a mountain on her back.

Littlee did she know what was to come.

Itt was dawn and even without light, Janet quickly realized that that place did not seem to be her car or her room at all.

Janet got up to find that her head was the least heavy thing on her body.

Her hands, even in the dim light, did not at all resemble Madame's slender and delicate fingers. Her feet weren't going where she wanted them to go, the power with which they **** the floor was resounding and something weird, like a piece of soft meat rope bouncing through her leggings.

A powerful, masculine, musky scent exploded in through her nostrils and her head seemed to be almost to the ceiling as if an idiot had designed a room too small for a human being.

That smell, that sweaty and virile perfume, awakened bizarre and paradoxically pleasurable feelings in Janet.

Walking across the dimly lit wooden floor, the ex-milf, transformed into a muscular bull, went in her torpor touching everything her body could reach in search of a switch when he heard a girl's moan echo off the walls.

Curious and afflicted with what happened, in a disconcerting mix of fury and determination she doubles her efforts and finally finds the light.

Janet contemplates her new body shape as if it were a "pleasant nightmare": if there was anything feminine there, every vestige of it has disappeared.

Where before were two fluffy white feet, so adored by her affectionate little husband, a pair of imposing man's paws took their place. Where the C-cup of her mature, relatively firm titties once sat, a manly, exaggerated hairy bodybuilder daddy's chest commanded respect. And there, in the middle between the new brute legs, a bulge, massive, colossal, a big-headed brown snake.

Janet, who was a fragile housewife, doing all the wishes of her husband and children, decided that if this was a dream, she would dream.

The dream that was now cooking in his mind were other, unexpected ones: tits, big tits, the oppressive and round melons of his Brazilian neighbor, the fluffy and pink grapefruits of his cousin Angela, the fertile repressed whores who now deserved his greatest attention.

Janet, eleven and a half inch cock in hand, knew she could be anything but a Janet now.

Before even that ecstasy can continue, the wind opens a door and the "former Janet" finds...