Though his head ached fiercely, the man managed to lift it to see the b**st was somehow changing; not fluidly or with ease, but with an angry, spastic...awkwardness. The terrible howl testimony to the pain of this transformation. At last this stopped to be replaced by a slow thankful panting and for a moment or two it too laid still. The man tried to rise but his limbs were heavy and still his head ached, reaching acceptance he stayed still awaiting his terrible fate. Still on his back,. In all his frolicking around during his academic career, he had never seen anything as beautiful or as perfect. His Patty was perfect, well almost. Her body was like Aphrodite, her mind like Pythagoras, and her mouth, oh that mouth of hers. He wanted it back, but he didn’t mind this quiet respite. If he told her that, she would rip him apart, layer by layer, and feed him pieces of his heart, while he was still alive. She did have a mean streak in her, and it wasn’t to be tested. (Brad had. More

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