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Spirit of Vengeance (Odd Transformation female mostly)
Gonsalves Guler hated his job. The pay was low, the work was dull, and he was extremely unpopular among his co-workers. He came from a poor immigrant family, and worked his butt off to put himself through high school and then through college.
He had graduated with a degree in computer network administration; unfortunately he discovered that there were very few jobs available for him. He took the first one that he could afford, working in the administration office at a local technical college.
It wasn't really Gonsalves' fault that he couldn't get a better job; he had a lot of things going against him. Gonsalves had a thick accent, which made it difficult for him to make himself understood. This in itself may not have been such a big problem, but he also suffered from a number of minor physical defects. He was extremely farsighted, so he was forced to wear very thick glasses. They made his eyes look much bigger than they really were - which had led to his nickname, "Goggles". All of Gonsalves' coworkers called him "Goggles", not realizing that it drove him up the wall. It might not have been so bad if they had been using the name affectionately, but Gonsalves knew that they weren't. When they thought he wasn't listening, or when they e-mailed each other, the people in Gonsalves' office usually called him "Gonzo".
Gonsalves also suffered from an unusually large, hooked nose, which led to his "secret" nickname. Gonsalves' coworkers didn't realize that, as the network administrator, and the only person in the office who was truly computer literate, he could gain access to any files on any computer in the office, and he read their e-mails frequently. He was the butt of many jokes that were told behind his back. He had heard the data entry clerks groaning about how their computers weren't working, and they'd have to ask Gonzo to fix it. He'd seen the e-mail sent around by Pauline, the receptionist, which contained a photograph of a pair of horn-rimmed glasses balanced on a male penis, with the caption "Gonzo". He heard the jokes being told behind his back about how stupid he was, how unattractive he was, and numerous slanders about his sexual preferences and anatomy. He couldn't talk to his boss, Robert, about it, because Robert was one of the worst perpetrators.
Worse yet, Gonsalves couldn't afford to quit his job. His parents were old, and had fallen quite ill - they didn't have health insurance, and every penny he could spare went toward their mounting medical bills. It had taken him months to find this job, and the only reason that they had been able to look past his appearance and his accent was the fact that they were desperate for a network administrator - the toxic work environment at the office had driven every other admin to a better job.
Gonsalves was working late at night, trying to repair the network issues caused by his idiot coworkers that day. He was thankful to have an excuse to miss the staff Christmas party, which was being held in a banquet hall on the floor below. He had no desire to socialize with the sociopaths he had to deal with every day at work.
As he was defragmenting a hard disk, Gonsalves noticed a brown paper package in his mailbox. He hadn't seen the package earlier in the day, and wondered how long it had been there. He walked over and picked it up. The package was wrapped in plain brown paper, and didn't have an address on it.
It merely said "To Gonsalves, From the Spirit of Vengeance - Merry Christmas!"
Gonsalves decided that the package was probably a prank from one of his socially retarded coworkers, so he opened it very carefully, away from his desk. Inside the package was a CD, labeled "New Reality Photo Editor".
Goonsalves was puzzled - none of his coworkers could have created a virus to harass him. He thought it was extremely unlikely that they even knew anyone capable of creating a virus. He recalled one time when Betty in Data Entry called him to fix her computer; he fixed it by turning on the power bar. Gonsalves' curiosity got the better of him, and he slipped the disk into an older computer he had in his cubicle. He disconnected it from the network, to ensure that he wouldn't have to repair more than one computer if the disk turned out to be harmful.
In a few seconds, an interface window popped up on the screen.
It said "Welcome to New Reality Photo Editor. Prepare to harness the most powerful photo and video editing software on the planet."
It had two buttons on the interface - one read "Quit", and the other read "Find photos, videos, and input devices".
Gonsalves clicked the second button, and the computer whirred and hummed for several seconds. A new window popped up, and Gonsalves was amazed at what was contained. In the top part of the window was a list of every image or video file contained on every computer in the building. It was sortable by a number of criteria, including file type, user, department, and subject matter! Gonsalves gulped, and looked at the network cable sitting unplugged on the floor. There was no possible way that this computer could talk to the network - yet somehow, it was able to see what was on every single computer in the building.
The second part of the new window puzzled Gonsalves even more. It was a list of input sources, with thumbnails showing what was available from them. The input sources included every web-cam on the network, several digital cameras that weren't connected to anything at all, and every security camera in and around the building. A chill went down Gonsalves' spine when he saw himself sitting in his cubicle. He looked at the webcam on his main computer, which he theoretically used for video-conferencing with Robert, his boss. Too bad Robert didn't know how to work a web-cam. Gonsalves realized that his web-cam was turned off, yet somehow it was projecting an image onto a computer that wasn't even connected to it.
Gonsalves clicked on the thumbnail beside his web-cam. A large window popped up, with a high-quality, fast frame rate video image of himself on the screen. There were a large number of menu options across the top. Gonsalves played around with the program for a few minutes, astonished at what it was doing. Clearly this was all impossible, so he decided that he must be dreaming. He pinched himself, and realized that he was wide awake. He clicked on himself, and another window popped up, saying "Object selected".
The new window showed a rotating, 3-dimensional, video image of himself in a seated position. Astonishingly, the image showed angles that the camera was incapable of seeing. Gonsalves played with the image, and found that he was able to drag the image into various poses. He chuckled as he pulled the shoes off of his image and put them onto his hands. This software was amazing! He clicked a button that said "Execute Changes", thinking that he would be able to save an image of this onto his computer. A tingling sensation passed over him, and his hands felt funny.
Gonsalves looked down, and cried out in surprise as he saw his shoes on his hands! He leaped to his feet, and quickly pulled the shoes off and threw them on the floor. He looked down, and saw that he was standing in his socks. Somehow this program had the ability to alter reality! He looked at the screen, and saw an image of himself, standing in his socks, staring at a pair of shoes lying in front of himself. Stunned, Gonsalves flopped down in his chair again. The full potential of this software was astounding. Gonsalves was wondering how far the changes could go, when he happened to glance at the "Input Devices" window again.
His sociopath coworkers were celebrating their annual holiday gift exchange in the banquet hall. They were laughing, and telling jokes, and pretending to like the coworkers whom they all secretly hated.
And Gonsalves was watching it all through a set of security cameras. He decided that it was time to test out the limits of this software.
Gonsalves opened up a few windows showing various views of the banquet hall. Amazingly, multiple windows didn't seem to slow down his computer at all. He decided to start small.
Pauline, the beautiful, long-legged and busty blonde receptionist, was fixing her makeup in the ladies' room. Gonsalves had noticed a number of options for editing objects, and decided to try them out. He clicked on Pauline and brought up a spinning image of her on a new window. She was wearing high heels and a slinky red dress, which was quite flattering on her. Gonsalves decided that it wasn't appropriate for the holiday season, however, and that it had to be changed. He dragged the dress off of the image. Before he started editing the dress, he goggled at the sight of Pauline wearing nothing but her panties and her high heels. Her large, perky breasts hung jiggling on her chest as she leaned toward the mirror, fixing her makeup. He looked at the security camera image, and saw that she was still fully clothed.
Gonsalves shook his head, and focused on the task at hand. He was able to use the software to make amazing modifications to the dress, and in a couple of minutes he had turned it into a wraparound dress with a white fur collar and border. It had a wide, black leather belt with a golden buckle. He dragged it back onto Pauline's image, but not before he slid her panties off. The panties were red, as well, which inspired Gonsalves. He played with the program some more, and quickly turned the panties into a red Santa cap, with a fur pom-pom and a border that matched Pauline's new coat. He quickly added fur pom-poms onto the front of Pauline's high heels, and saw that she was starting to leave the ladies' room.
Gonsalves clicked the "Execute changes" button, and watched, to his delight, as Pauline's slinky red dress turned into the red Santa outfit he had created. She didn't notice anything until she returned to the banquet hall - several co-workers started applauding, and Pauline looked confused for a moment. When she looked down at her outfit, there was a brief look of genuine surprise on her face. She clearly had no idea how this outfit got on her. Since it was clearly so popular with the staff, however, Pauline quickly regained her composure and pretended that she had worn the outfit on purpose. When she sat down, a couple of her co-workers were treated to a brief glimpse of her neatly trimmed, black-haired pussy - the coat was quite short, and she didn't yet realize that she wasn't wearing panties anymore.
Gonsalves rubbed his hands together in excitement. Time to try some of the other editing options he had seen.
Gonsalves selected Betty, the data entry clerk. Most of the data entry clerks were middle-aged and fairly unattractive, but Betty was a 22-year old brunette and a fox. She and Pauline hated each other - Betty loathed the way that the 30-ish Pauline shamelessly used her sexuality to get what she wanted; Pauline despised the fact that Betty had a natural young, girlish look that drove most men crazy. Gonsalves didn't really care, because they were both cold, heartless bitches who spoke viciously about anyone and everyone whenever the opportunity expressed itself. He was especially angry at the emails which Betty sent around, lampooning the mild-mannered network administrator.
Gonsalves had discovered that the software could create video sequences, and was interested in whether he could make an actual short scene play out in reality. He worked and fiddled for several minutes, and decided that he was ready to test the sequence out. He clicked "Execute Sequence", and flipped to the security cameras again to enjoy the show.
Betty sat in her green party dress with a glass of wine in her hand. She was telling a rather dull story about a data-entry issue she had faced a few days before, and the people around her were starting to look bored. Betty didn't particularly care, as long as they were listening to her instead of talking. Suddenly, an odd tingling sensation ran down Betty's spine. She stopped talking, set the wine glass down, and stood up. Everyone looked at her curiously. Then Betty felt her hands rise to her shoulders, of their own accord. She tried to force them back down, but found that she couldn't control her own body. It was like she was a puppet on strings, watching helplessly from behind her own eyes. She would have screamed if she could.
As everyone watched, Betty slowly slid the straps of her dress down over her shoulders. She lowered her arms, and the silky fabric slid down her body and pooled on the floor at her feet. She stood in front of the office staff wearing only her black bra and panties. Inside her mind, Betty was panicking and shrieking, but to everyone else she was maintaining the cool, disdainful look she usually affected. The entire office staff was silent. Slowly, Betty's arms rose behind her back, and she unclasped her bra and tossed it casually across the room. Her milky white, a-cup breasts with their small pink nipples were in full view of everyone. Still wearing a cool expression on her face, she reached down and slid her black panties down her legs. She stood up again, and had her neatly trimmed bush on show for her coworkers.
This was too much for the men in the office, and several of them started whooping and whisting the moment she took her bra off. The office ladies gasped with indignation and disdain. Betty stood, as still and as calmly as a statue, for about thirty seconds. Then, suddenly, she felt another tingle go down her spine as she regained control of her body. Betty suddenly shrieked, and covered her chest and her pussy with her hands. She ducked down and tried to pull her dress back up, to protect her modesty, but it disintegrated into threads as soon as she touched it. She screamed again, covered her breasts and crotch once more, and ran shrieking from the banquet hall. She left a chaotic noise of mutters, cheers, growls, and whistles behind her as she fled.
Gonsalves wasn't done with her yet, though. Betty had often claimed that she had "nothing to be ashamed of", and he was amused to see that she was still somehow ashamed of what she had. He pulled up her image again, and decided to see just how far the photo editing could go.
Betty ran screaming into the Ladies' room down the hall, and desperately started searching around for something to cover herself with. She decided that she was going to have to wrap hers elf in toilet paper - as humiliating as that would be, it was better than showing off her breasts and pussy to the entire office again. She figured that she would just dash into the coat room after, grab her jacket, and drive home. She got a roll of toilet paper, and prepared to wrap herself up in it. Then she happened to glance in the mirror.
She gasped, and dropped the roll of paper to the floor. She stared at herself in the mirror, disbelieving. Her breasts had been small before, but looking in the mirror she could not see any sign of them at all. She was as flat-chested as a little girl! More so, in fact, because even her nipples seemed to have disappeared. She touched her chest, and felt the gentle swell of her pectoral muscle beneath her skin, but there was no breast tissue above it at all. Her chest looked like a department store mannequin - from the children's department! As she glanced at herself in the mirror, she received an even bigger shock.
Where she had had a neatly trimmed bush of black curly hair before, now her crotch was completely bald. She reached down, and felt something was wrong. She couldn't feel anything. Normally she could feel her clitoris and her vaginal lips underneath her fingers, but now she couldn't feel the soft folds at all. It was completely blank, and her fingers slid down what felt like an extension of her lower abdomen. She ran her fingers all the way back, until her fingertips touched her anus. She had no pussy at all! She looked at herself in the mirror and started to sob. She didn't know what was happening to her. The only feature on her torso between her chin and her asshole was her belly button. She heard a noise at the bathroom door, and ran into the closest stall.
Betty tried to be as still and as quiet as possible as the unknown person entered the bathroom. She perched on top of the toilet seat, praying that nobody knew she was in the toilet stall. She glanced down at her featureless chest and pussy and shuddered.
Robert, the office manager, opened the door of the ladies' room and looked around. He held Betty's black panties and bra in his hand - he tried to make a show of being gallant, and rescuing a damsel in distress, but actually he just wanted to see the cute data entry clerk naked again. Besides, he wasn't interested in Pauline's attempts to ridicule Betty even more, now that she had humiliated herself and fled the room. Robert didn't see anyone, and was about to continue his search elsewhere, when he noticed the partly-unrolled roll of toilet paper sitting underneath the bathroom sink. He decided that the ladies' room could use a more thorough inspection, and he slipped inside.
Betty hear Robert's voice calling. She shrank back on the toilet seat. What would she do if he figured out that she was there? Suddenly the door of her toilet stall shook, as Robert tried to open it! Betty thanked God that she had the presence of mind to lock the stall. Too bad that she wasn't clever enough to realize that her stall was the only one with a closed door.
"Betty, are you in there?" Robert called.
Betty braced her hands against the sides of the stall, and put her feet up against the stall door to hold it shut in case the latch slipped. She held her breath, and hoped that Robert would give up and go away. Robert, on the other hand, wasn't quite as stupid as Betty. He walked into the next stall, quietly stepped up onto the toilet seat, and slowly peered over the dividing wall. He was treated to the sight of Betty sitting almost spread-eagled on the toilet, pressing her feet on the door and her hands on the wall. He might have gotten away with a longer peek, except that he noticed the strange blank areas at her crotch and on her chest. Having seen her pussy and tits just a minute ago, he knew that something strange was happening. He gasped quietly, but loudly enough that Betty heard him, shrieked, and covered herself up again.
Meanwhile, up in the office, Gonsalves decided that it would not do to have people coming and going as they wished. There was far too much to do. He used the photo editing software to erase the doors out of the banquet hall and the ladies' room, so that his victims were trapped inside until he was done with them. Then he brought the ladies' room camera up again. He couldn't see what was going on very well - the one camera in the washroom didn't let him see inside the toilet stalls. He could see that Robert was standing with his head above one of the stalls, looking down into the stall with the closed door, but he couldn't tell what was going on inside. Then he had an idea. Gonsalves used the photo editing software to put a camera behind the bathroom mirror, which he then turned into a one-way mirror. Now he could see the toilet stalls head-on. Then he erased the door of the closed stall. Robert and Betty looked at where the door had been, shocked, but at least Gonsalves could see what was going on.
Betty was wearing her black panties again, and was trying to put on her bra. She was having a bit of trouble getting it to fit right, probably because she was even flatter in the chest than usual. Gonsalves decided to help her out, by deleting the bra with the photo editor. Then he deleted Betty's panties. Betty tried to cover herself up again, and Gonsalves decided that it wasn't fair for Betty to have to be humiliated all by herself. He clicked on Robert, and started to delete the office manager's clothing. In a few seconds, Robert was standing completely naked on the toilet, leering over the wall at the naked Betty. His small penis stood bravely at attention. It took a few seconds more for Robert to realize that he was naked too. His face turned bright red, and he hopped off of the toilet seat, covering his smallish member with both hands, looking around for his clothes.
Gonsalves decided that it wasn't fair for Betty to miss seeing Robert in the buff, so he started deleting the fixtures in the bathroom. Soon, the toilets, stalls, and sinks were completely gone, and Betty and Robert were left standing in a featureless green-tiled room with only a large mirror on one wall for decoration. They were both still covering themselves, but Gonsalves could see that they were talking to each other. To his delight, after a couple of minutes, Betty uncovered herself, letting Robert see her blank chest and groin. Robert uncovered himself too, to poke gently at the place where Betty's small breasts had been. Gonsalves started to erase Robert's thick, dark body hair, and Betty noticed this happening. She started to chuckle when she noticed Robert's small erection. It was perhaps 4" long, fully erect, which was smaller than Betty was used to. When Robert's pubic hair faded away, it looked more like a child's penis than a grown man's. Robert turned red again, and tried to cover himself up.
Then Gonsalves decided that it wasn't fair for Robert to have something to be ashamed of, if Betty had nothing. He copied Betty's blank crotch, and pasted it over Robert's with his photo editor. He used a number of tools to make the skin color match better, and erased Robert's small nipples at the same time - out of a sense of fairness. The he clicked "Execute Changes".
Robert gasped as he felt his small penis shrink away from his hands. He pulled them away to see what was happening, and screamed in horror as he looked down at his blank crotch. Betty's eyes opened wide, although to be honest she was slightly relieved now that she was not the only sexless person in the room. Robert and Betty sat down on the floor, and started talking again. Soon they were both in tears, hugging each other. Appparently they had realized that the door to the room had vanished, and they had no idea how to get out of their current predicament. Gonsalves thought it was sad that they had nothing to do, so he started to edit their images again. He decided that he would try to run another video sequence, and started editing.
Robert and Betty were holding each other, still crying, when they both felt a strange tingling sensation. They pulled away from each other, and looked down at their bodies, hoping that they would return to normal. At first they were clearly very excited, as small nipples started to reappear on their chests. Betty reached up to fondle her breasts, expecting them to grow back into her hands. She was disappointed. Instead of soft, feminine globes growing into her hands, she felt her pectoral muscles growing wider and harder. She moved her hands away from her chest, and saw that her chest looked wider than normal. She stood up, and looked at herself in the mirror. Funny, her shoulders looked broader than usual, and her chest and abdomen looked more muscular than she had seen them before. Her hips and legs were still slim and feminine, and her arms and face retained all of their girlish charm. Even her skin still was pale and feminine, but her chest and stomach looked somewhat masculine. They were still completely smooth and devoid of hair, but she had chest muscles like a male athlete. She looked over at Robert, dismayed that her breasts hadn't returned, and gasped at what she saw.
Robert was still sitting on the floor, with his mouth agape. In his hands he cupped two large, undeniably feminine breasts. They were already much larger than Betty's had been - a C-cup, at least. And what's more, they looked like they were still growing. Betty pulled Robert to his feet, and made him look in the mirror. They both gasped at what they saw. Normally Robert was several inches taller than Betty, but now they looked to be almost exactly the same height. Robert's new breasts continued to grow, until they were a large DD-cup size. His arms were still masculine and muscled, and his face and legs were as manly as they had ever been (apart from the total lack of body hair). His shoulders looked a little narrow, though, and the large, firm breasts sitting high on his chest were most certainly not masculine at all. They were topped with small, hard nipples. Betty reached over and gave one a squeeze. Robert gasped as an unexpected shock of pleasure ran through his body. He was horrified by the large, heavy, and sexually sensitive globes hanging off of his chest.
Then they both felt a strane tingling sensation in their groins. Both shuddered, expecting to end up with the wrong set of sexual organs. Robert looked down at his crotch, waiting to see what would happen. His heart started to lift as he saw a small bump appear on his groin. As he watched, a small but unmistakably male organ started to grow out of his crotch. Soon a tiny scrotum appeared, with two little testicles rolling around inside. Robert grinned - even if he had lost a few inches of height, and had grown a giant pair of tits, at least he had his manhood back! He looked over at Betty, and saw that a moist slit was reappearing between her legs. She didn't have any tits, and her chest looked distinctly muscular and masculine, but at least she was still a woman. Robert looked down at his own penis - it was painfully erect, although it was barely two inches long. Without any hair on it, it hardly looked like a man's penis at all. The only sign that it belonged to a mature man were the thick blue veins visible just under the surface.
They waited several minutes. Betty thought that her pussy looked a little looser and the slit looked a little longer than she remembered. She decided that it was probably just the fact that it was still completely bald. Robert was a little distraught, because his penis had apparently stopped growing at two inches. Both of them were feeling very aroused. Robert's nipples were poking out like diamonds, and his penis was leaking slightly at the tip. Vaginal fluid was dribbling slowly down the inside of Betty's leg. They glanced at each other, and then looked away. They glanced again, and soon their intense arousal was almost too much to bear. After one more quick glance, the two office workers jumped on each other, drooling with lust. They kissed and fondled each other for a few seconds, but the burning need for penetration pulsed within them like nothing they had felt before.
Robert rammed his tiny cock into Betty's pussy. Oddly, he didn't find the tight hole he was hoping for. Betty was disappointed at the fact that Robert's tiny member barely reached past her labia. She ground against him, and managed to rub her clit against his tiny cock. That felt good, but it wasn't enough. She needed her clit stimulated, and a nice deep penetration, before she would be satisfied. She pulled away from Robert, and pushed him back when he tried to penetrate her again. Her eyes opened wide with surprise when she looked at her crotch. Her clitoris was hard, and stuck out a good three inches from her pussy. It was half again as big as Robert's cock, and almost as big as his erect penis had been before his transformation. It seemed to be a little higher up her abdomen than it was supposed to be, too.
"Your cock isn't big enough" Betty panted, "You'll have to use your fingers."
Robert was disappointed, but realized that this young woman wasn't going to let him get off unless he did what she wanted. He poked his index finger up Betty's well-lubricated vagina, and started to thrust.
"Deeper!" Betty commanded, barely able to feel Robert's finger in her cunt. What was he using, his pinky? Robert added another finger, poking his index and middle finger inside the woman's eager pussy.
"Suck my clit!" exclaimed Betty. Robert put his mouth over the giant, engorged clit, and started to suck it. Betty shuddered with pleasure. The clitoris was like a thumb in Robert's mouth. "Deeper!" Betty moaned. Robert started thrusting four fingers in Betty's pussy, but it still didn't feel full to Betty. She kept shouting "Deeper! Deeper!" at Robert.
Soon, Robert had his entire fist in Betty's pussy, and was ramming it in up to his elbow. Finally Betty felt more or less full, although she wished he had a bigger arm. After a couple of minutes of Robert frantically pumping his arm in her pussy, and sucking her clit, she orgasmed in an intense explosion. Fluid squirted out of her pussy, soaking Robert's upper body. She moaned and went limp, and her swollen clit started to deflate. She felt fulfilled, and started to move away from Robert.
"My turn!" exclaimed Robert, and Betty sighed and turned to his tiny cock. She licked it, and slipped her mouth over it. She licked and sucked his tiny member like a baby's pacifier. Robert moaned and rubbed his nipples. After a couple of minutes, Robert started to moan and shudder. He had never felt multiple orgasms before, but now he was in the throes of them. Betty prepared to pull herself away when he ejaculated, but for some reason he never did. Robert moaned and shuddered for two or three minutes before Betty finally stopped pleasuring him. He continued to shudder and moan for almost a minute after she stopped.
Gonsalves decided that he would have to come back to the odd couple soon, but first he had plans for the guests in the banquet hall…
Gonsalves turned back to the banquet hall. Nobody had noticed that the door had vanished. Most of the staff were standing in a circle around the food table, laughing and joking. What a farce, thought Gonsalves. They all hate each other, and they all know that they all hate each other, but they pretend to like each other anyhow. He started planning on how he could humiliate them all.
Then Gonsalves thought back to Betty and Robert in the Ladies' room. Once they realized that they were both undergoing strange changes, they had stopped being ashamed and started being afraid. Gonsalves was feeling mean-spirited, but he did not want to frighten his co-workers… well, not much. He was much more interested in seeing them humiliated and embarrassed in front of each other. He decided that he would make most of the changes more subtle, so that his co-workers might not even notice them until they got home. Then he would get to see them trying to hide the changes at work the next day. Gonsalves almost cackled with glee at his idea. He then restored the door to the banquet hall - people would need to leave for his plan to work. He left the ladies' room alone, however - he wasn't finished with Robert and Betty yet.
Then he decided that there were a couple of people who deserved to be humiliated at the party, before they went home. The first was Jeffrey, the assistant office manager. Gonsalves decided to see just how far the photo editor could go in terms of changing someone's body. He knew that he could change their clothing and their appearance with virtually no limits. He wasn't sure how he had made Betty and Robert have sex, but he suspected it had to do with the fact that he go the images for their new genitals from photos and videos of people who were obviously highly aroused. Could he cause the physically impossible to happen?
Gonsalves selected Jeffrey and brought up a nude image of him in the editing window. It was fascinating how he could strip someone completely naked in the editing window, but they remained completely unchanged until he clicked "execute changes". Jeffrey was a short man - about 5"4" tall - and was very fit and muscular. He was also an arrogant prig who was always trying to throw his weight around, to intimidate the other employees. Gonsalves looked at the nude image and saw that, like Robert, Jeffrey had an unusually small penis. That explains a lot, he thought. Gonsalves started going through his photo archives, until he found what he was looking for. It was a short video clip of a cherub statue and fountain from somewhere in Italy. The cherub was dancing over a lily pad, and a stream of water was gushing from the little angel's penis. Gonsalves started editing the images, wondering what would happen.
Barbara from Accounting was regaling the group with another derogatory tale about Betty, when Jeffrey felt a strange tingling in his groin. Jeffrey looked around, and surreptitiously glanced down at his crotch. Nothing unusual, as far as he could tell. Then, suddenly, a small wet sot appeared in the middle of his crotch. Jeffrey's eyes widened, and he tried to casually cover the area. A cold, damp feeling started to spread down his inner thighs. He crossed his legs, trying to hide the fact that he seemed to be wetting himself. Jeffrey tried to clamp down his bladder muscles as hard as he could, but for some reason he couldn't get them to respond at all. For a brief moment, Jeffrey wondered why the feeling was a cold, damp feeling, instead of a warm, damp feeling - but the thought was chased from his mind when someone noticed his condition. Linda, a fat and middle-aged data entry clerk, looked at Jeffrey's pants and started to chuckle. "I think you've had enough punch, my boy" she condescended.
Jeffrey started to give a scathing response, but this just attracted the attention of everyone else in the room. He stood up and tried to turn away from the group, in shame, but the dark stain kept spreading down his pants. Soon he felt his socks getting wet, and the flow didn't seem to be slowing down. Jeffrey felt tears of humiliation running down his cheeks. The assembled group, being the vindictive bunch that they were, started laughing out loud at their power-hungry assistant office manager, as he stood wetting himself uncontrollably in the middle of the banquet hall.
Jeffrey finally decided that enough was enough, and bolted from the room. His socks squished and sloshed in his shoes, and he left a trail of damp footprints behind him. The entire office was in an uproar, with people laughing so hard that they could barely control themselves. Gonsalves noted who was laughing the hardest - he actually felt sorry for some of his co-workers; they ridiculed him, but he now realized that they were victims of some of the more vicious people in the office. Gonsalves was an easy target, and making fun of him was the only way some of them could defend themselves. But there were still several people at the party who weren't getting off the hook that easily. Gonsalves started to work on his more subtle changes, while the group slowly got control of themselves.
Jeffrey, meanwhile, ran out the door and across the hall to the men's room. He locked the door behind him, thinking that he might be able to empty his bladder and get himself cleaned up. He wasn't sure how he would live down this humiliation, but he already was starting to think of degrading tasks he could force on his subordinates tomorrow. Jeffrey noticed that his bladder was still gushing forth, so he rushed over to a urinal and undid his soggy pants. When he saw what was in between his legs, he almost fell backwards in shock. His pubic hair was completely gone; his penis had turned into bronze. It looked completely flaccid, although it was only slightly smaller than normal. When he touched it, however, it felt as hard as a rock. It was also cold to the touch. Cold, clear water was pouring from the tip in an apparently endless stream. He couldn't feel anything with his penis.
The strangest part was the way that the metal somehow slowly faded into the flesh of his groin. As he drew his finger along the top of his crotch, he could feel more and more as his finger ran towards the flesh-colored side. He tried again to stop the flow by clenching his bladder; it seemed as though his bladder muscles were completely useless (in fact, they were completely gone, but Jeffrey didn't know that). He shuddered, and then pressed his fingertip against the tip of his bronze penis. He found that, with enough pressure, the flow stopped completely. He sighed in relief, and managed to pull his shoes, socks, and pants off with his free hand. He started to dry them off under the electric had dryer. He was relieved that he seemed to be peeing water, instead of urine, assuming that it wouldn't stink later on.
Drying the sodden pants, underwear, and socks was a time-consuming process, even with both hand dryers going at once. Jeffrey didn't finish until everyone else at the party had gone home. As he was waiting for his garments to dry out, however, Jeffrey noticed a pressure building up in his bladder. After a few minutes, the pressure started to feel painful. Jeffrey started to worry about how he was going to make it home, if he couldn't stop his metal penis from leaking. After a few minutes more, the pressure was almost unbearable, and Jeffrey had to rush over to the urinals again and release his finger from the tip of his penis. The water gushed forth, and it took almost five minutes before the pressure in his bladder went away. As his bladder emptied, the flow of water diminished slightly, from a gushing stream to a moderate trickle. It didn't stop. Jeffrey discovered that he had to take about five minutes to empty his bladder every half hour or so. It was going to be a long night…
Meanwhile, back in the banquet hall, Pauline was getting tired of wearing her red Santa cap. She reached up, and pulled it off of her head. A gasp went up from several of the ladies, as they saw what happened. As Pauline lifted the cap from her head, her long blonde hair came off with it. It took a moment for Pauline to realize what the ladies were staring at. She looked down at her cap, and saw that a long, blonde wig was stuck inside it. A split second later, the cogs and wheels clicked in place in Pauline's mind, and her hand shot up to her head. She felt a smooth, shining, and totally hairless scalp underneath her hand. Her hair was gone! She rubbed her entire head in disbelief… she had always been very proud of her gorgeous, thick locks of rich blonde hair. Somehow, it was all missing from her head! She looked at the wig in her hand, and saw that it was every bit as soft and gorgeous as her hair had been. Pauline screamed.
The rest of the conversation died down, and was replaced by more laughter, as everyone else noticed Pauline's shiny, bald head glinting in the fluorescent light. How had she worked there so long, without anyone figuring out that she wore a wig? Barbara, the bitch from Accounting, was quicker on her feet than most of the office. She quickly snatched the cap and wig out of Pauline's hand, and threw it across the room. It snagged on a light fixture, and dangled from the ceiling, the lowest locks of hair at least 10' off the floor. Pauline shrieked, and ran over to it, trying to retrieve her precious locks. As she jumped up and down underneath the dangling wig, trying desperately to get a grip on it, the men in the room started to feel their pants tighten in the crotch. Pauline's red, fur-lined dress barely reached below her ass when she was standing normally. Now that she was jumping up and down in the air, it was lifting up clean past her hips, giving everyone in the room an unobstructed view of her neatly trimmed pussy and her round, firm ass. Pauline was embarrassed enough thinking that everyone could see her panties. It wasn't until she got home that night that she realized that she hadn't been wearing any!
After Pauline finally climbed onto a chair and yanked her wig off the light fixture, and left the party in tears, the other attendees decided that they had enjoyed enough of other people's pain and humiliation for one night, and started to filter out of the banquet hall. One or two women looked for the ladies' room, but couldn't seem to find it anywhere. Gonsalves hurriedly finished up the changes he was preparing to enjoy on the following day.
Gonsalves worked late into the night, modifying his co-workers. He was exhausted, and was about to go home for the weekend, when he remembered that he still had Robert and Betty trapped in the ladies' room. Gonsalves brought up the window again, and finished their changes before he logged out and went home for the night.
Betty and Robert were so tired from their frightening experiences, and their passionate lovemaking, that they had fallen asleep on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom. Betty woke up first. She looked around at the bathroom, hoping that her experiences that evening had all been just a bad dream. The sinks, stalls, and door had all reappeared. Betty started to sigh with relief when she looked down at her body. She gasped when she saw herself.
Not only was Betty still completely naked, her body was hardly recognizable. She was covered in dark, curly body hair, especially on her chest, stomach, and crotch. Her arms and legs had thinner hair, but it was still dark and stood out starkly against her lily-white skin. Betty stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face and head looked exactly the same as always, but her breasts were still gone. In their place was a broad, well-muscled, and very masculine-looking chest. Her thin neck sat on a pair of broad, muscular shoulders. Her arms and legs were thick and wiry, and her waist was narrow. Her body looked like a man's, except for the pussy hidden beneath her thick, dark mat of pubic hair, which extended up to her navel and well down her thighs.
Betty felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, then realized that Robert's suit and her dress had magically reappeared on the counter, along with their underwear. Betty slipped her panties on, and started to pull on her dress. She looked at herself in the mirror, and realized that she looked ridiculous. Her long, muscular, hairly legs stuck out from the bottom of the dress, which was stretched almost to the breaking point across her flat, muscular chest and stomach. The dress was much too small, and much too short - Betty realized that she must be over six feet tall now. Betty glanced over at the sleeping body of Robert. She assumed it was Robert, although it looked like a very voluptuous woman from this angle. Betty squirmed out of the dress, and pulled on Robert's suit over her panties. It looked like Robert's suit, but it fit her perfectly. She pulled on the shoes and socks she found, but left the necktie on the counter. She saw her car keys on the edge of the sink, and grabbed them. She slipped out the door, and cautiously ran to her car to head home.
The sound of the door creaking open startled Robert awake. He looked around, and found himself alone in the Ladies' room. Like Betty, Robert also noticed that the fixtures and stalls had reappeared, and hoped that he had just been dreaming. He sat up, and felt an unfamiliar shifting of weight on his chest. He looked down at himself, only to see two massive breasts jiggling on his naked, hairless chest. Robert stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. He saw his head atop an extraordinarily curvaceous, sexy female body. It was completely hairless, and Robert felt his groin tingle at the sight. He suddenly realized that he couldn't see his crotch in the mirror - the counter was as high as his waist. He realized that he must be less than five feet tall now! Robert stepped back, and pulled his large, soft boobs to either side in order to look at his crotch. Hanging halfway down his thighs was the biggest, thickest cock he had seen in his life. It was starting to stiffen. Robert decided he needed to get dressed quickly, so he could go and see a doctor. He noticed a pair of men's underpants on the counter, and a dress that looked just like the one Betty had stripped off the night before. Robert quickly pulled them on. The underpants rode up the crack of his ass a bit, but they managed to contain the massive bulge of his penis and proportionately-large testicles. He then pulled the dress on. It was extremely tight, and showed off every curve of his body. His nipples poked through the chest, and his crotch bulged out at the waist. Robert couldn't see a bra, and decided to leave the black ladies' pumps on the floor where they were. He spotted his own car keys, grabbed them, and jiggled out to his car.
The next Monday saw a record number of employees calling in sick, including (not surprisingly) Robert, Betty, and Pauline. Gonsalves was disappointed by the poor turnout, but saw that there were still plenty of people to give him a show, and let him savour his revenge. He was sorry that he had made so many of the changes take effect before the weekend - it hadn't occurred to him that so many people would smply stay home. He was glad that he had made some of the changes time-delayed, and was prepared to enjoy them as they came into effect that day. But first, he decided to check how some of his already-changed victims were trying to hide their new developments.
Barbara, the bitch from accounting, had received several compliments on her new, darker hair. Some people even asked if she had lost weight. Oddly enough, Barbara hadn't seemed pleased at the comments. Instead, she muttered apologetically at each comment, and turned her eyes down. Barbara had awoken on Saturday morning feeling great. She had run her hands down her body in the morning, still bleary-eyed, and had felt a slimmer, firmer body than she had ever possessed underneath. She ran to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and gasped. Her body was, indeed, much slimmer than it had been - not skinny, but toned, with perky breasts pushing out the front of her nightgown. Her face looked slimmer, and a few years younger, as well. Instead of the body and face of a middle-aged, divorced housewife, she now had the body of an athletic, but healthily curved, thirty year old woman.
She wasn't pleased, however. This was probably due to the fact that her long brown hair had truned bright pink overnight, and her face sported several piercings. Barbara quickly removed the piercings, and determined that she would be able to cover the holes with makeup. She grabbed her dark brown hair dye, and started to cover up the shocking, gaudy pink color of her hair. When it was time to rinse out the dye, Barbara pulled off her nightgown and headed to the showed. As she passed the bathroom mirror again, she nearly fainted. Her body was covered in tattoos - a large dragon coiled up her right arm, while a thorny chain of roses wrapped around her left. Her legs were covered in butterflies down to the knees. There were tiny angel wings tattooed on her back. Her large, and newly-perky breasts had writing across them - in bold Gothic letters, the tattoos read "CAN I BE YOUR SLUT?". Her nipples were pierced, and joined together by a loose silver chain. Her flat, toned stomach sported the hilt of a sword, which pointed down into her tight, but completely hairless, pussy. Her lower back sported an arrow pointing to her anus, captioned with the words "Insert fat, hairy cock here".
Mortified, Barbara tried to scrub the tattoos off in the shower. It quickly became apparent that these tattoos were permanent. She also couldn't figure out how to remove the nipple rings - they seemed to be completely unbroken hoops of metal. She quickly learned that the chain made it impossible to wear a bra with any degree of comfort. To her even greater surprise, a few days later she noticed that her dark hair was growing bright pink roots.
Gonsalves laughed when he saw Barbara trying to cover herself up with pants and a high-necked shirt. He decided that he would have to help her show off her new body art the next time she was meeting with the executives.
He noticed that Janice, the fat Admissions clerk, had figured out a way to stuff her bra to make it appear as though she still possessed her massive, jiggling mammaries, instead of the saggy a-cups he had given her.
Across from her sat Frank, the credit officer, who seemed surprisingly comfortable and relaxed considering he had lost his male appendages and gained a heavily menstrating vagina.
Sarah in Accounts Payable had worn a turban-like hat, which did an excellent job of covering up the large rabbit-ears which had replaced the delicate ears she was born with.
Gonsalves was disappointed at the ease with which his victims were hiding their changes. He understood, of course, that those who couldn't hide their changes so easily had chosen to stay home. He decided that it was time to start enjoying his delayed changes.
He flipped open a window which showed Rebecca, a slutty HR officer, giving a performance review to Sandy, a low-level manager. Rebecca had been instrumental in making sure that Gonsalves never got promoted to a better department; Sandy didn't interact with Gonsalves directly, but seemed to have a sour look about her at all times, making herself unapproachable. Both women were quite attractive; Rebecca was a slim Asian woman with impeccable taste in clothes, while Sandy was a more voluptuous redhead.
Rebecca had just finished telling Sandy that she needed to show a sense of humour around the office, when her voice suddenly faded away. She tried to speak, but no sound came out. She took a sip of water, and tried to speak again - still nothing. Sandy looked at her expectantly. Rebecca tried to speak again, when she felt somethign hard in her mouth. It felt like a small, smooth pebble. She delicately reached up to her mouth and pulled out the object. She looked at it, and saw Sandy's eyes go wide as they realized what it was. Rebecca was holding a tooth in her fingers! Rebecca reached into her mouth again, to find the hole where the tooth had come from. As she touched her teeth, they loosened and fell out. Rebecca spat out a mouthful of teeth, and started to scream. At least, she TRIED to scream - no sound came out of her mouth at all. She felt her teeth with her tongue, to see how many had fallen out. The slightest pressure from her tongue, however, was enough to loosen the rest of her remaining teeth. She spat them out into her hand, and felt her toothless, but bloodless, gums with a fingertip.
"You call that a sense of humor?" said Sandy, with a scowl. "That's just disgusting, is all."
Then Sandy felt a strange tightness in her chest. She glanced down, and noticed that her breasts seemed to be pushing out farther than they should. As she watched, she could see them expanding slightly under her jacket. She also felt the chair getting slightly tighter around her buttocks. Wat was going on? She looked back up at Rebecca, who wass staring at her wide-eyed.
"What?" demanded Sandy.
Rebecca slowly raised a finger and pointed at Sandy's nose.
Sandy reached up and felt her nose. It had less sensation than she was used to. She pulled out her compact mirror and looked at her face. Her nose had turned bright red, and was growing round and bulbous. Sandy screamed. She tried to stand up to leave the room, but her ass had grown very quickly in the previous seconds, and was now stuck in her chair. The unexpected weight of the chair caused Sandy to lose her balance, and she fell flat on her face. When she pulled herself up, she was shocked to see that her breasts had grown quite large, and stuck out of her chest like a pair of balloons. The buttons on her blouse were straining. She reached up and grabbed one of her breasts, and gave it a light squeeze. To her shock and horror, a honking sound, not unlike a bicycle horn, escaped from her large ass as she squeezed her tit. She fainted.
Clownitization by Nosey T. Clown (Clown, BE, MC)And another Clown TF story I had laying around!
Clownitization by Nosey T. Clown
I think I'm going crazy. Or I'm in a coma - maybe I'll wake up soon. This must be a dream - it certainly is the weirdest dream I ever had. How can I wake myself up?
I heard once if I concentrate really had on reality, maybe I'll wake up. How to concentrate? Maybe I can try to write some of this down! Maybe that will cause this dream - I hope it’s a dream - to end!
Okay - where's the paper! Boy - it's become hard to write! Maybe if I sit sidesaddle or something…….. How should I begin…..?
My name's Candace Reems. I know - most girls with a name like "Candace" get called "Candi", but not me. Oh, sure, I was Candi in high school, but in college it was more professional to be called "Candace." And when I went to work and Water Pricehouse, it seemed an accountant should be called "Candace" instead of "Candi." Or "Miss Reems" - that was way better!
I am 26 years old, and I had - HAVE - blond hair. I have blue eyes. I'm five foot-six inches tall. I'm single, and broke up with my last boyfriend a few years ago - he was such a dork! I tried to be serious - 'cause I am a blond and you know what reputation I could have - but he was so SILLY!
Okay - this is so weird!
So - concentrate - it's Tuesday. I just flew in to our corporate offices in San Francisco for meetings with our most important client. I didn't really want to go, 'cause it's a few days before Hallowe'en and I wanted to go to a party and maybe meet someone but I had to go and that's that. So I worked like a dog all day Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday and went to my hotel and had room service and crashed every night and - slow down. S-l-o-w d-o-w-n. (Giggle)
Okay. I'm getting agitated - it's only a dream. A D-R-E-A-M. I hope…
So I get up Friday and go to the office - this should be the last day of this nonsense. Maybe I can still get home for Hallowe'en tonight. So I'm working on the depreciation schedules. But my boss, Mr. Ackerly comes in at noon and said that the finance guys at the client will finish them up, and I'm free to go. In fact, the office has scheduled a costume party and he thinks I should go - it'll be a 'good break,' or so he says.
So I'm thinking - why not. I can fly home Saturday (giggle) and relax at the party and over the weekend. So Mr. Ackerly tells me to take the rest of the day off and try to find a costume. He bids me goodnight and leaves me with a slip of paper with the address scribbled on it.
As it turns out, I shoulda gone to bed.
So - Friday afternoon, All Hallow's Eve, where to find a costume. First question: What to go as? Belly dancer? No - I'm too slender. Witch? Too common. I call a few costume places from the Yellow Pages, but they are out of cats, and leopards and pirates. What to go as? Maybe this is too difficult.
I know - I'll be a clown! I always wanted to be a clown, and no one will know its me under the makeup! I'll be a clown! I can let my hair (all 2" of it) down! This might actually be fun! Now - where to get a clown costume??
Here's a listing I didn't see before - "Clara's Clown Closet". "Only Clown Costumes - when only the BEST will do." I wonder why I didn't see that earlier. So I call them up and - SURPRISE - they have lots of costumes left! (giggle) They said come right over.
A $20 cab ride later, I'm standing in front of "Clara's" in one of the nicer parts of town. The mannequins in the window are all dressed as clowns, and look so colorful! This might actually work out! The little sign on the door says "By Appointment Only" and "ring for Entry" - they invited me over, so I guess this is as good as an appointment. I ring and the door buzzed.
I pushed the door open, and walked into the biggest clown emporium I have ever seen. Wigs, noses, costumes, makeup - everything. As I walked over to the counter, a woman came from behind the curtain and introduced herself as "Clara."
"Hi - I'm Candace." I responded.
"Oh - weren't you the person I just spoke to on the telephone? About a last minute costume?" she inquired.
"Yes - I got invited to a Hallowe'en party at the last minute and don't have a costume. I always wanted to be a clown, but I don't know the first thing about makeup or costumes or anything. Can you help me?"
"My dear - of course. Is your party tonight?" She asked, ever so helpful.
"Yes it is."
"Well, Candace, we could select your costume and complete your hair and makeup all right here, right now, and you could leave directly for the party if you wanted?" She told me - her voice was sweetly intoxicating.
"That sounds wonderful!" I said, "Where do we start?" I was becoming more eager to 'be a clown.' Only now do I realize that it was unusual for me to be so eager. (Giggle)
"Well, Candace, have you thought of what kind of clown you want to be? Clara asked. "No - I didn't know there were kinds of clowns.” I replied. "What are they?"
Clara told me that there were Auguste clowns, Whiteface clowns, Tramp clowns and Character clowns. I became more puzzled - I don't know why I wasn't thinking clearly. "Make me the clown you think would be best for me,” I stated. It was unusual for me to give up control so easily.
"I think you'd be a good Auguste clown,” Clara recommended, "and we can fix you right up. Now follow me,” she said as she swept behind the dividing curtain into the back room. I followed along.
Now the part that must be a dream - Clara just led me right along and look where I am now! (Giggle)
"You know, dear, clowns get their humor from exaggeration, you know that, don't you?" Her voice was like honey - I was drawn to it like a hungry bee.
"Oh yes - I know that" I said, but I didn't really know that - or did I?
"And the funniest clowns are the most exaggerated - you know that, right?" She said.
"Right" I said, somewhat drunkenly. What's happened to me?
"And wouldn't you like to be a most funny clown?” Clara asked. "Oh yes" I said - and look where it got me. (Giggle)
"So - we'll need to exaggerate you, won't we?"
"I guess so." I said, as Clara took my measurements and wrote them on a clipboard.
"Hmmmm," she said quizzically. "You need a little more substance to be exaggerated, wouldn't you agree?" "I guess so."
"Let me go to the rack and select a few things, now that I have your measurements" she said, appearing lost in thought. In a few minutes she returned, carrying what seemed like several large pillows. As she dropped them on the floor, they appeared to be cotton-lined Jello.
"I'm so sorry, dear, but we will need to exaggerate your, er, 'slender' figure. I want you to put this on - here, use this dressing room." She handed me what she was carrying and pointed to a curtained room a few feet away. "Now hurry up!" she commanded.
I scurried into the room and drew the curtain.
I began to inspect what she had given me - although not particularly heavy, it appeared to be a ridiculously proportioned women's body suit! If you looked up exaggerated in the dictionary, this suit might actually be there! And - I was replete with bra (attached to the cotton) and panties (also attached), in a clownish polka-dot pattern. I was momentarily stunned at the thought of the figure that would result if I wore this.
"Now, Candace, you must take off all your clothes before putting on your new undergarment - otherwise it won't, er, fit properly."
"Yes, ma'am.” I responded. I began to take off my clothes in the privacy of the dressing room.
Now disrobed, I found a zipper in the back of the bodysuit and unzipped it. It fell open at my feet and I stepped in and pulled it up over my shoulders. It was like putting on a cool, comfortable glove! It fit perfectly! It felt wonderful and caressing! I couldn't wait to zip it up! I hope I could find the strength to take it off at the end of the night (this wasn't a problem, as it turned out). I turned toward the mirror to admire myself.
Boy! Talk about an exaggerated figure! I couldn't believe the comical character that reflected back at me in the mirror. First, my neck, arms and legs were uncovered by the suit and unchanged. But that's all that stayed the same. My boobs were bigger than I have ever seen on a woman - even that dancer Chelsea Charms! Turning this way and that, I could see my boobs from behind me!
I couldn't believe it. In fact, the suit was so realistic that I had nipples, too! And what nipples! They were as round as saltshakers and protruded almost an inch! I marveled at the detail in this suit!
But as big as my boobs were, my butt was awesome. It protruded as much to the rear as my boobs did in front! I was enormously wide, and wondered to myself how I'd sit in a chair! I had the biggest hourglass figure in the world. I would be a great clown!
A tape measure hung on the wall, and I struggled to measure myself. After some effort, I found I had a 95" bust and 85" butt. I measured my waist at 20", but somehow I never noticed that my waist had shrunk from its normal 29" size. I was so fuzzy.
'Are you ready? Come out here.” Clara commanded. I reached over my boobs and drew back the curtain and walked out, brushing the doorframe on each side. "What do you think?” I asked Clara.
"Well, you are a little small, but I think it's a great start!" she beamed. "Now - let's pick a costume!" She headed off to the rack and I waddled behind her. (Giggle) I was having a harder and harder time walking and keeping my balance, but tried to keep up.
In a few short minutes she had me outfitted in a set of ruffled bloomers with more then twenty petticoats, and a set of red and white striped socks that rose up and actually covered my enormous butt! A blue polka dot baby-doll dress went over the top of it all, making my enormous boobs seem even larger. As Clara directed me to a chair (without arms!), I sat and contemplated how much my butt projected over the edges as she placed a pair of 26" long Mary-Janes on my feet, in yellow. She asked me to stand.
"What do you think?” Clara asked, as she turned a wall-sized mirror to face me. I looked at the vision in the mirror and was speechless.
Except for the face on the person in the mirror that was clearly mine, I had become a ridiculous, exaggerated, corpulent clown. I turned this way and that, admiring myself and thinking how good I looked (which was odd - I usually liked how I looked as a girl, not a clown?!) (Giggle) Even as I turned, by boobies brushed the mirror and I felt a tingle in my chest. Although I realize now this was unusual, I didn't seem to notice it at the time.
"Oh Clara, I am a beautiful clown!” I exclaimed, my voice almost squealing. Had I been paying attention, I would have noticed it had risen in pitch a bit. "It's better than I could have hoped!" I would be the perfect clown for the party!
"But, Clara, what about my face?” I pouted. After all, a clown has to have a ridiculous face and hair.
"I've got just the thing,” Clara pointed out. "Come over here and recline in this chair," she invited. I did as I was directed.
As I settled myself into this larger-than-normal chair, I watched myself in the mirror. Strangely, as I walked the thirty feet from the dressing room to the makeup chair, I had found it easier to walk with my clown shoes, although I had begun to waddle even more exaggeratedly. Still, as I settled in this oh-so-plush chair, I giggled at watching how my body stuck out from the sides of the chair, and how my little boobies took up almost all my chest. I wanted to scratch an itch on one elbow, but was having a hard time reaching it with my other hand. Too bad my boobies are so small, I thought.
Clara positioned what looked to be a 1950-s style hair dryer over my head, and activated it to a low thrumming. "This will fix your hair right up,” she advised, " while I work on your face." With that, she opened a chest full of various makeup items, and began selecting among the clown noses for me.
"Let's see - I think this is about right,” she said, and turned toward me with the biggest, reddest, roundest clown nose I think I had ever seen! I have seen a lot of clowns, but I had never seen a nose this big. "Wow! What a nose" I giggled. I settled back even further in the chair, in total comfort in this new body. It felt too GOOD! I reveled in feeling my huge butt and boobies, and wondered how to be a funny clown.
"Now, hold still and let me get some adhesive,” Clara intoned. "This will feel quite natural, just like your new clown body, and should make you a very funny clown indeed. Now close your eyes…" she said. I closed my eyes, and seeming drifted off to sleep for what seemed like only a few seconds. The last thing I remember it Clara's fingers placing this enormous nose on my own……..
Gradually I awoke, and was briefly disoriented by a red ball in my field of vision. As I reached to scratch it (and hit it far earlier than I planned) I remembered Clara's placing it on my face. She was right! It felt quite natural! In fact, as I felt for a seam, I couldn't tell where it joined my own face. I was beginning to wonder what I looked like, as Clara was still working on my face and blocking my view of the mirror.
"Now - I think that does it! You are indeed a funny clown! You should be the hit of the party!" Clara was positively beaming! "I think this is my best work! Ready for a look?" she asked.
I nodded my head, unaccustomed to the shaking and quivering of this new nose on my face, and the resultant jiggles in my boobies and butt. "Yes - I want to be a clown! Please show me!" I pleaded. (Was my voice still higher?) With that, Clara backed away from my field of vision and I saw myself in the mirror.
To say I was a clown is an understatement. To say I looked ridiculous doesn't cover it. To say I would be the funniest clown that night was close, but still can't capture it. I had been completely transformed.
My face was still my face, but it was as if I was born to be a clown. Once I got over the shock of seeing that enormous nose on my face (and the huge nostrils on either side of it), I started to examine the detail of my new 'look.'
I don't know how Clara did it, but my eyebrows (which I kept so carefully trimmed) had been arched into a high sweeping arch over my eyes. As I turned my head from one side to the other, I kept imagining my eyebrows had become red McDonalds Golden Arches on my face. But that wasn't all. White clown makeup highlighted my eyes, which had grown the longest lashes I had ever seen - they must have measured more than an inch! They were full and lush, and fluttered when I blinked my eyes. When I reached to touch them, I felt no trace of adhesive. Clara was certainly good!
Below my nose (which dominated my face (goody) my lips seemed to have become plumper, yet were outlined as a traditional clown's mouth. Still feminine and shaped like an exaggerated version of my own lips, there was a definite clown smile as part of my new face. (Giggle) My skin positively glowed, although with a radiant peach color.
But that wasn't all! As Clara pulled the dryer off my head, my new red curly locks spilled out of the dryer - a perfect clown 'do! Covered in wide and gentle curls, by head was a mass of red - wild and silly. I was amazed.
"Clara - how did you do this?” I asked, wondering why my voice was reaching for higher octaves.
"It's magic, my dear. I love bringing people their dearest wish to be a clown. It's my gift to you." Clara smiled gently and patted me on the shoulder - but as she brushed my boobies, a jolt went through me. That's odd, I thought.
"But - I have one more surprise for you" Clara said. "The piece de resistance - and something to make you a truly unique clown." She pulled back my hair from my ears for me to see.
I couldn't believe it - my ears had grown! Now twice the size that my ears had been, they stuck straight out from my head! I had huge clown ears!
"Oh Clara, you've made me so happy! I will be such a funny clown tonight!" I was giddy with delight! (Giggle) I squirmed around in the chair and felt the smooth fabric of the chair against my butt, and the taught fabric of my baby doll dress against my little boobies. I was in heaven. I never stopped to notice that this was a bit odd until later. I was in giggly delight as I gazed at the clown in the mirror, butt sticking out from the chair, boobs sticking out from my chest, and the biggest nose I could imagine.
Clara helped me out of the chair.
"Now, dear, why don't I send your clothes back to your hotel and you can have fun and go straight to your party tonight? She asked.
"Sure" I giggled. I didn't want to wait being a clown for a minute. "What do I owe you for all this trouble?"
She quoted a modest sum, and I struggled to get my purse up over my boobies where I could see it, and then to get my wallet out of my purse and hand over a credit card. It took several tries, because I couldn't see around my new nose and got the wrong card several times. As Clara handed me my receipt and card, I bent forward and my boobies and I fell on the counter as I reached forward to sign the bill.
"Now you are getting into the spirit,” Clara said. "Clowns as exaggerated as you have to be clumsy, too!" she directed.
No problem there, I thought. There's a lot of me here to be clumsy with! Clara helped me right myself and placed my purse on my clothes. "Would you like anything before you go?" she inquired.
"Yes - I would like en teensy glass of water' I said
The Magician's Assistant
By Digital Circe
(woman to pig transformation)
Story warnings: nudity, adultery
#WeightGain #Transformation #PigGirls #PigGirl #FemalePigTransformation #FemaleTransformationStory
Katharina Eberhardt looked over the program for Marcel's newest magic show, a grand display in San Diego that the beautiful assistant would be participating in. This time, she would be more than just his assistant; she was to be part of the spectacle. The performance was going to be televised, and the scale was to be the biggest magic show in a decade. Marcel had been very busy planning and preparing each illusion, including the ones that featured Katharina. The show was to be the greatest of the illusionist's life, and the evening would be crowned with a showstopper – he would transform his beautiful assistant into a pig, let her (in actuality a trained pig) run around and wow the audience with her new form, then change her back in a final display. It would be perfect.
Any illusionist could make a puff of smoke and a substitution, but this trick was to be far more grandiose. The sophistication far outstripped other transubstatiatory illusions, like 'the lady to a tiger' or 'woman from the smoke'. Her transformation was to be a slow one, one that people could see happening. It was a complex and ingenious illusion. Her slinky dress hid several self-inflating pouches on the inside, which would make her look like she was growing fatter and more barrel shaped. With the aid of occasional well-timed smoke bursts, she would slip several sequential hoof-like extensions over her hands and feet, which could also each inflate slightly. A small, curly tail was hidden in her dress, which would push out at the appropriate time. Small pouches hidden in her nostrils and behind her ears would give the illusion of her face beginning to change. A prosthetic snout would work like the hooves for the latter stages, and she would wear special UV light-sensitive contact lenses, which would appear to make her eyes black and beady midway through her transformation. She would wear fake teeth, sculpted to look like small tusks when she opened her mouth. All this would be accentuated by her grunting and squealing, as though her human voice was being lost. Near the end, a smoke flash would disguise her changing places with the real pig, which would be wearing a variation of her dress (less sexy looking on a pig) and a blonde wig (which would fall apart, like she was losing her hair), and which was trained to perform simple tricks, and respond readily to the name 'Katharina'. Meanwhile, she would slip down the trapdoor where the pig had been while Marcel 'proved' to the crowd that the pig was really his assistant, showing that she recognized her own name and instructing her to do a few things. Below the stage, she would remove all the piggish accoutrements, deflate her dress, and wait for the instantaneous, smoke-concealed change back, when she would again switch places with her porcine stand-in. Her restoration would appear to be from Marcel's kiss (he was well known for kissing his assistants and volunteers), and the lights would go up to find the magician beside his now-human-again assistant, and then both would take a bow. All in all, it would be a fine feat of illusion.
Katharina was amused by the proposition. The model-turned-magician's assistant didn't care too much for pigs, but thought that it would make an excellent spectacle, and there was something slightly intriguing about the fiction of someone as beautiful and refined as her reduced to a fat, squealing animal, and acting like a graceless hog. She rather expected that was why Marcel had chosen a pig to be the form she would supposedly assume, in addition to their similarity in size and color (after all, a pig transformation didn't have to account for fur). She wondered if he found the concept to be a turn-on; a beautiful woman as a simple beast. She decided against that, however; Marcel was simply an excellent showman, and knew what extremes provoked the best reactions from an audience. Indeed, after the final spectacle had been announced, some excitement had risen up over the idea. It was interesting to hear of so many people invested in her forthcoming transformation, and of so many people suspending disbelief to fantasize about a person actually becoming and living as a something else entirely.
Most of it was silly to her, but she was a little bothered by the extremes some people seemed to go to in their anticipation. She had been shown a disturbing photo-manipulation of herself with a snout, floppy ears, and more that had been widely disseminated on the internet. It disturbed her that some people might want her to truly be turned into a fat pig, that they would prefer her remain as an animal than as a woman. Still, it was just an illusion, and just harmless fun for almost everyone. She could ignore the bizarre desires of a few perverts for her partner's crowning exhibition. Besides, it was hard in any event to imagine such a gorgeous specimen of femininity grunting on all fours, forever an animal.
She smiled to herself, thinking of Marcel Astor, and the feel of his arms around her. She had been his lover for almost two years, and she still felt butterflies in her stomach occasionally. He was married, of course; so their love was by necessity secret. Besides, Marcel had a certain family-friendly reputation as an entertainer that needed to be maintained. But how much more than his wife she understood him, appreciated him! Katharina and Marcel were meant to be, she was certain. She loved him more than anything.
It wasn't that Katharina hated Jean Astor; she rarely gave the woman much thought. Certainly, she wasn't impressed with her intelligence; yes, she and Marcel were discrete, but what woman could be so thoroughly deluded? Jean was a mere given to her, an occasional roadblock, much like an inconvenient regular meeting that had to be scheduled around. Katharina seldom thought of her by name.
The beauty examined her dress, a black, slinky affair that showed off her exquisite form perfectly. It was made out of an incredibly stretchy material, although it would look like satin to the audience. She smoothed a wrinkle out of the dress, then turned up to see Marcel admiring her. He'd seen it on her before, of course – they had only practiced this trick dozens of times. In a way, it was kind of fun, feeling the dress inflate around her body while she waddled around the floor, squealing like a pig, adding more and more of her bestial disguise before she switched places with the fat, good natured sow that was supposed to be her. It was a bit disconcerting being around a pig that shared her name, but Katharina the pig was a sweet animal, and more fun to work with than Katharina the woman had expected. Her experiences with the pig over the last few weeks had rather improved her opinion of the species, although it still bothered her that some people might prefer her to be this animal rather than herself. Marcel had laughed off her concerns, saying she had it backwards – people wanted Katharina to be 'in' the pig, as a hidden treasure – rather like a prince hidden in a toad. He insisted that no one would prefer the pig to her. They wanted to be the one in on the secret, knowing where the beautiful treasure was hidden. She had her doubts, but she had just smiled and agreed, going on with the practices quietly. Marcel had enough on his mind without her small concerns about other people's opinions, and she was unwilling to burden him with them any further.
"You look fantastic," Marcel said warmly, looking at the curve of her body.
"Thanks," Katharina replied, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. "But I won't look like this for long!" It had become something of a game for them, pretending that she would truly become undesirable, and whether he would still love her. Marcel activated her dress, and Katharina swelled out slowly to her fat pig proportions, the 'seams' pulling apart and revealing supposed pigflesh, her tail falling out, and her contacts darkening to black. He swept the big, barrel-shaped girl into his arms, and kissed her passionately.
"You know I'll always love you, my sweet," he drawled suavely, "However you look, and whatever you are!" He kissed her again, and she giggled and grunted lightly, pretending to make loving her harder on him. Her broad, demure smile betrayed the game though, and they kissed again as he shrunk her dress back down to hug her appealing figure – the treasure hidden within the disguise. And she did feel like a princess.
Privately, Katharina began to fantasize about what it would be like to truly change, and to live as an animal. After some time to contemplate the idea, she didn't think it would be all bad. The idea of hidden knowledge, of being the one in on the secret, appealed to her powerfully – a princess biding her time, waiting for the right moment to reveal herself. Possessing knowledge like that, that she was more than what others could see, almost seemed empowering – a book not to be judged by her cover. But she kept these thoughts to herself – how weird would people think it was for a gorgeous, successful woman to want to be a fat, grunting sow? Still, she finally understood what people found so enchanting about her being 'inside' an obese hog. She was certain that she would enjoy pretending to become one.
At last, the night came. For most of the illusions, Katharina either played no part or only helped display it, selecting audience members to examine machinery or introducing the occasional video clips required while others set up the next illusion. A few tricks required her to personally perform the slight-of-hand with Marcel instead being the showman, like the 'zig-zag girl' stunt. But for most, her skills as a model served her better. The illusionist was in his prime, and the crowd gasped and clapped as he made huge objects appear and disappear, levitated a rose, entered the audience and made their personal trifles disappear or multiply. He made himself appear to teleport, and her to levitate. Each illusion garnered more applause than the last.
The show was incredible, and Katharina barely noticed the hours flow by. Her transformation was coming up, and she was in her black dress. At the booming sound of her partner's showman's voice, she sashayed out onstage, smiling radiantly and waving lightly to the assembled applause. "For your viewing pleasure," Marcel boomed, "I will, for my last magnificent feat, change my own lovely assistant into a fat, squealing pig!" The crowd cheered, and Katharina wandered to the center of the stage, where her prosthetics were hidden in shallow compartments unseen to the audience. She waved one last time, then demurely folded her hands, looking expectantly at her partner. He was in fine form tonight, and she knew she was looking her best. This would be his crowning achievement.
Marcel stepped back, pointing his wand at Katharina, twirling the tip and reciting a string of made-up words, and lightly touching her on the nose. She smiled broadly, waiting for the first sensations of her dress and nose expanding, cuing her to begin her performance.
A moment passed, and Katharina noticed no smoke was yet dimming the air. That was a crucial factor of this trick – she needed brief periods of invisibility to make the substitutions. She opted not to worry – this was her partner's forte, and he would see that everything went well. Then, the beautiful woman began to feel a slight fluttering in her belly, like an itch on her insides. She ignored it – she didn't have to remain on stage for long, and would not ruin the ultimate spectacle by feeling a little sick. As Marcel chanted, though, she began to feel a little lightheaded, and took a deep breath. As she did, she snorted.
Katharina was a bit embarrassed to have made such a sound, but at least it fit the character of her metamorphosis. She looked down at her folded hands, and started slightly. Her usually perfectly manicured hands were looking rather dingy, and her nails had thickened! She swallowed hard, hoping that it was the lighting, or her contacts firing prematurely. She raised them to her face in wonder, then felt a twitching in her stomach as she began to expand. It took a moment for that to register on her mind – she was expanding, not her dress! She opened her mouth to call out to Marcel, but only a simple squeal came out, in which even she could barely make out his name. Her small tusks poked out of her mouth as she did so, and numbly she ran her tongue over her lower teeth. They were not prosthetics, but her own teeth. What was going on?
Marcel seemed unaware of her distress, as he continued his chant, occasionally addressing the audience. Unfortunately, her squeals did not arouse his attention; it was what she was supposed to be doing. Another squeal rose from her throat as she felt her nose turn up, quite independent of any inflatable bladders – if those were even still in her nose.
The radiant model snuffled in panic, as she felt a strange sensation along her developing potbelly, rubbing against the soft material of her dress. They were her new nipples, she realized in terror – small points of porcine femininity. She felt her ears twitch, as they began to point and push through her flaxen hair. She raised her hands to her face, now crusty with larger, harder nails, and squealed loudly. Marcel looked at her, slight questioning in his eyes at her behavior – she was supposed to act like she was enjoying the change, like it was pleasurable to her. Her ad-libbing to make it seem like a slightly scary thing seemed to be playing well with the crowd, though, and Marcel didn't dare look like anything was a surprise to him. Instead, he smiled triumphantly at his changing assistant, wondering what led Katharina to reconsider her reaction.
Katharina was not really in pain – there was some slight discomfort and queasiness associated with her change, but much of that came from her fear. Really, it felt fairly good – like her features were gently settling into new places rather than cracking and reforming. As it went on, the pleasurable feelings increased, but Katharina was focused on her now inarticulate fear. She watched her hooves solidify, and practically fell out of her high-heeled shoes. She stumbled on her ungainly new feet, then fell to her knees, looking up at her partner with incomprehension. The Teutonic beauty was growing ever fatter, and the seams on her dress began to give way at last. Katharina squealed in surprise – her dress wasn't giving way like it was supposed to! She raised her arms and looked down at her now-visible side, watching it grow into the flank of a fat pig. The middle back of the dress pulled apart as well to accommodate her bulky form, and there was a sudden murmur of appreciation as her curly pink tail twitched to life, pushing out of her exposed flesh. The split in her dress showed off rather more of her bottom than the pretty model felt appropriate, but that was the least of her concerns right now.
The beautiful pig-girl snuffled in shocked awe, feeling the gentle twitches in her body. The pleasurability of the change seemed to increase as it went on, muting her scared snuffling and dulling her reaction time. Katharina's mouth and nose joined into one long snout, and the sudden pleasing shock caused her to toss her head back and squeal in a sudden fit of satisfaction. Her eyes snapped open in alarm at the action, and she wondered what had come over her. She suddenly tipped over on her hands and knees, her glorious blonde tresses flying in her face, at the shock.
Marcel smiled down at his piggish assistant, noticing her sudden change in demeanor. Looking over her changing body, it suddenly struck him – there was no smoke in the air – he could see her with perfect clarity, and so could everyone else! He stepped frantically on the concealed button to release some mist, to give Katharina the screen she needed to make her change, and then realized in horror, as he looked at her oversized but perfectly formed hooves and flopping ears, that she was past the point where she would need to put on her prosthetics. She was actually developing hooves, right before his eyes! He swallowed dryly, taking in his beloved assistant's fattening form. Katharina's dress was torn in ways it wasn't designed to emulate, and he could clearly see her heaving sides and twitching tail. They weren't the material of the costume – they were actual flesh. The same was true for her hooves, ears, and snout. Katharina was really turning into a pig! Marcel didn't know how this was possible, but knew he couldn't disrupt the flow of the program – what was the problem? His trick was actually working? Besides, Katharina didn't seem to be in pain, her bestial snorts almost sounded contented. His mind just couldn't get fully around the situation to develop a plan of action.
Kneeling before him, Katharina was very much still scared, all the more since her body seemed to be welcoming the change. The gorgeous girl felt her stunning, full breasts tighten, and begin to pull back into her round torso. She expected to feel utter panic at their loss, and was startled to feel pleasure, as though she had no need of breasts and was only changing for the better. As a model, her job was very much dependant on the inviting orbs, and she found more fear in her apathy than in their loss. She squealed again in physical pleasure, almost orgasmic now in intensity, as her other teats filled out, and her breasts shrunk towards the same size. In a sudden burst of bliss, her legs snapped into their new joints, realigning her shorter legs with the great mass of her belly. Her neck filled out and twitched, aligning her head properly with her body for a quadruped, and her beautiful face filled out to match it.
Katharina was more pig than woman now, and cringed in blissful fear of her fate. Her constant happy squeals seemed to entertain the crowd, although they stabbed at her own heart. Her bottom had pulled almost completely out of her dress now, although it resembled a human rear no longer. The graceful curves of her firm, rounded butt had become one large piece of sloping flesh, crowned with an energetic curled tail. Her arms and legs shriveled fully into their squat new forms, and a pleasant snapping in her shoulders told her that she no longer had arms at all. Her forehead sloped backwards, bringing her clouding eyes to the sides of her snout, which now dominated her thick face. She squealed again, trying to convey her fear along with her audible pleasure. Her soft breasts finally pulled fully back into fat pig dugs, and filled her with a blissful charge that was almost sexual in intensity. A calm feeling fell over Katharina, filling her with the sensation of rightness, that she was supposed to be a pig. Her mind rebelled at this insult, and the once-beautiful model squealed loudly, trying to make her predicament known.
Marcel continued to stare down at his lover dumbfounded, as the point where she would switch places with the pig came and went. Of course, with how things were going, there was no need for such a switch; Katharina was making a fine figure of a sow. He could see the fear in her, through the mask of contentment, and knew that the change was a surprise to her, and not a pleasant one. The illusionist swallowed numbly, wondering what was happening, and what could be done. He was no sorcerer – this was none of his doing, despite pretensions, and he didn't know how long it would last or whether she might change back immediately.
Katharina's rotund body was trembling in bliss, as waves of pleasure shot through the frightened pig-girl. Her belly continued to fill out, finally pushing the rags of her dress past their limit, and they tore off completely, revealing her fat pink frame to the whole assemblage. Her soft skin began to roughen, giving the sow a thick pig's hide, dotted with sparse bristles of white hair. Her shining eyes finally grew beady, completing the metamorphosis of her face. Her soft blonde hair loosened from her head, and as she thrashed it in the orgasmic sensations, it fell to the floor, finally leaving her wedge shaped skull entirely bald. Her obese belly finally stopped growing outward, and she felt her insides twist and churn as her privates finished their metamorphosis, leaving the gorgeous model as a fully functional sow, ready to live a pig's life. Katharina's body was wracked by a final, intense shudder, the most powerful feeling of her life, as it finished reshaping into her new form.
Katharina squealed in absolute terror as she felt her lover's power flow out of her ample body, leaving her as nothing but a common domestic sow. The fat pig squealed loudly, then began to feel the weight of her inner hog, consuming her senses. She squealed wildly, trying to draw attention to her new problem, as her human intelligence was consumed in instinct, readying her for her new life. The events of the beautiful woman's life flashed before her mind's eye, as each was lessened by a competing porcine notion. As the process advanced, her squealing subsided – piggish contentment was filling her mind. In the end, the small feeling of identity, of Katharina Eberhardt, was smothered in layers of satisfied pig. It was like the life of the woman had happened to someone else, and the fat hog had merely observed it. She was, and always had been, a pig. The fat beast grunted in contentment.
"Katharina?" Marcel gasped, as the audience applauded the beautiful blonde woman's metamorphosis into a bloated, fat sow, unaware that it had not been intended. The sow looked up at her name, grunting unconcernedly. She was a pig – what would weigh on her mind? She looked around at the standing ovation, and had some small inkling that it was for her. She squealed loudly in salute to her audience, then defecated on the stage, turning to smell her own pungent droppings. The audience burst into laughter at the sight, enjoying what they assumed to be the fiction of the gorgeous model behaving like a common pig. Still, many felt it a happy fiction, and like with all magic shows, pretended like it was true.
Flabbergasted, Marcel called her name, winning the sow's attention, and had her trot around, roll over, and finally, with much help, stand awkwardly on her small back hooves to receive his kiss. She willingly did as he instructed, her human intelligence and memories translating to a particularly clever and well-trained pig. Katharina was happy for the attention, if only in a simple way, and did her best to make him proud of her. Unfortunately, the kiss had no effect on the young sow, and she fell back to all fours after his panicked caress. "Die ich rief, die Geister!" Marcel muttered to himself in shock.
Numbly, Marcel ended the best performance of his career with a showman's flourish, the astounded audience thundering their appreciation, and roaring for an encore. With a blanched complexion, Marcel led the fat sow to the edge of the stage, waving to the crowd as she snorted happily. He led Katharina to the stairs, frequently summoning her attention by name, and guided the rotund hog down and into the crowd. Many began to clap him on the back and shake his hand, and many also patted the fat sow, feeling the porcine flesh of the once-beautiful woman. The grunting model loved the affection, and pressed back excitedly against the friendly hands, turning eagerly to face anyone who called out her name. The audience was astounded at how realistic the change had been, and how much this fat sow seemed to act like she was truly Katharina. To a man, the audience allowed themselves to be taken with the presumption that the pig really was the transformed woman. The fact that Marcel Astor had chosen to leave his assistant as a sow, and then to let her socialize with them as one, impressed the crowd greatly, as a dramatic improvement over immediately changing her back. It improved the magic act so much more to leave the transformation stand, as if it could last.
As the fat sow giddily wandered amongst the crowd, she happily squealed to a couple of small children who were calling her name, and rubbed her snout against them. One, a little boy, clambered up onto her fat back, excitedly waving to his parents. The girl wanted a ride too, and he helped pull her up onto the enormous sow's back. Katharina squealed merrily, happy to serve as a mount for the children. The sow was enormously fat, and could easily support the extra weight – and she did enjoy the attention. Eventually, they got off of her, going back to their smiling parents and letting more people see and touch her. The sow loved children – she felt a sudden, welcome longing to bear a big litter of piglets – and was glad to play with any that wanted to touch her. Most parents did let their children touch her – she was obviously a tame hog, after all. Everyone was excited to feel the model as a plump sow – she remembered vaguely that this sort of attitude had once bothered her, but she dismissed the feelings without much consideration. She was enjoying herself.
Marcel and the sow continued to press up against innumerable people, all happy to see her as a pig. Soon, though, they pressed up against a few other people who seemed smug, rather than openly excited. The bloated hog didn't make anything of it, she just rubbed gleefully up against each, who all took the time to say "Hello, Katharina," in a satisfied tone of voice, drawing her personal attention. The fat sow was just glad to be among so many people who knew her name, and grunted and squealed eagerly, to their deep amusement. They each fondled the hog's rotund body, taking in the sensations of the grunting model. They seemed to accept her as a pig without any sense of awe at it, only amusement. Then she was past them, turning to hear others call her name. The sow never noticed that they didn't speak to her partner.
Eventually, the procession ended, and Marcel took the rotund sow back up onto the empty stage. He swallowed numbly, wanting to try once more at turning her human. With a nervous flourish, he kissed her snout again, wishing and praying for her to be restored. Suddenly, the content pig twitched, shuddering, and began to change.
Quickly her golden hair flowed out, her body thinned, her limbs stretched out, and her face reformed, leaving the rotund Landrace sow again as a beautiful model, crouched on all fours. Katharina blinked, feeling a strange sense of loss, of disappointment. Suddenly, the beauty realized that she was entirely naked. Quickly putting her hands over her breasts and her privates, she turned to face the audience, smiling nervously. Her firm, round behind had been visible to all, displayed entirely on the giant screens to the sides of the stage. Katharina was embarrassed, but even that feeling was submerged in the shock of having actually turned into a fat sow. How was that even possible? And Katharina had enjoyed it. She remembered her simpler pig's mind, and the wonder she had at the clapping audience. She quickly thought of the most complicated things she knew, wondering at her changing mind. She couldn't think as clearly as before – had something of her pig-self followed her back? She didn't know, and didn't know if she'd be opposed to it if it had.
Marcel stepped behind the naked beauty, disguising her bottom from the rear cameras. Waving to the crowd with one hand, he wrapped the other arm around her full bosom, freeing one of hers. She patted down her greatly disheveled hair, then waved too, smiling radiantly. She clearly didn't know what had happened either, but she was such a trooper, going along with things and casually taking what had to be the most embarrassing moments of her life. Suddenly, Katharina spied her small pile of pig dung, which she had deposited on the stage. "Goodness, was that me?" she asked coyly, hiding her shame. The audience burst into good-natured laughter. The sow-turned-model looked down at her pile of steaming pig dung, and wondered at her total sense of freedom, that she had idly produced it. In a way, it interested her primally, to be that free. On an even baser level, she wanted to get down on her hands and knees and smell it. It took a surprising effort to resist the urge and make light of it. "I am quite the dirty little piggy, aren't I?" she asked demurely. She knew that her perfect bottom was stained with her own pig dung, that it had been visible to everyone. Why couldn't she stop thinking about it? Why couldn't she stop drawing attention to it? Was she really that proud about defecating in public? It dawned on the pretty sow that she was.
"Marcel, I do believe someone needs to muck out my sty!" she announced proudly. The audience cheered her good-natured humor. The former pig grinned warmly, but really had no desire for her filth to be taken away from her. Her stool laid there as an ongoing reminder to her and everyone else that she had been a pig, and she didn't want that link broken. She loved her droppings, and again had to resist the temptation to stick her elegant nose in it; a struggle that she was losing. She could see no logical reason why she should deny herself.
"My assistant, the sow!" Marcel said loudly, and the applause increased. Katharina's face broke into a wide smile, and she squealed proudly for her fans. Oh, how she wished that she could drop to all fours and waddle around the stage! She certainly didn't want to say anything other than simple grunts or squeals. She found she loved hearing Marcel call her a sow – she hoped he would keep it up.
But the euphoria of the stage was short-lived. The televised performance was over, but Marcel was under contract to perform a shortened version of the show in San Diego every evening for five months. They both wondered nervously: what had happened? Would it happen again? There were no answers for the magician and his secret lover. Marcel was a wreck, and even Katharina was nervous, the rapture and immediacy of the transformation growing dimmer the more hours passed. She was disgusted with herself for how much she'd liked being a bloated sow and how much she was still curious about exploring it. She even locked herself into the bathroom and was sick before the first show.
At last it came again, and they nervously returned to the stage to a sold-out house. They started with the usual illusions, appearances and disappearances, prediction tricks, making her dresses transform, walking through solid objects, decapitations. At last, the time came for the pig transformation. Of course, Marcel had tried to remove it, but it was the most popular illusion of the new show, and his sponsors wouldn't hear of it. They were emphatic: Katharina Eberhardt was to become a sow in every performance for the entire five months. Nervously, she smoothed the black fabric of her replacement dress (like all magician's props, they had several spares) as Marcel introduced the trick, and then she demurely approached to be enchanted. Again, all her props were in place, but again, they were all unneeded.
She felt it again, the tugging feeling of her body beginning to change. She squealed, her eyes wide, as she felt her nose and mouth pull outward into a snout, her fingers and toes beginning to stiffen into hooves. She knew what to expect now, and the feelings, still as pleasurable as before, returned like old friends. She got down on all fours, feeling like it was the right thing to do. Soon she was fattening, her body becoming that of a sow, her arms and legs shrinking and resettling into her massing bulk. Her clothing tore, her curly tail reemerging and wiggling about in anticipation. Again, her big breasts deflated, joining her other teats, and her hair fell out, revealing the piggish shape of her head. Her body settled into its last few changes, again leaving only a fat hog. Her sense of self diminished, replaced with the content sow. She grunted happily, feeling at peace.
Again Marcel had her perform, and took her through the crowd as part of his usual handshaking. Again people, and especially children, marveled at the hog, touching and petting her. She was very happy. She didn't notice that some of the people were the same as before, including the small group of smug men – although this time they addressed her as 'pig' instead of 'Katharina'. She wasn't as good at telling people apart any more.
The man and the hog retuned to the stage, and again his caress triggered her reversion, and quickly Katharina the woman found herself naked and on all fours, grunting. She felt a sense of loss at losing her pig self, slightly more acute than before. Her fevered mind raced as she covered herself quickly. Had she descended deeper into the pig's mindset this time? They waved as the curtain came down, both pale as ghosts.
They retired to her dressing room, almost more scared than the first time. What was causing this? It couldn't be coincidence! There was someone behind it. Could Jean Astor somehow be to blame? Obviously they couldn't confront her. What if they were wrong? They had to keep the affair secret. But who else would hate them enough to do something like this, and how had they obtained such power? Real magic wasn't supposed to exist. They talked over what they should do fruitlessly, neither coming to any useful conclusions. Katharina went to bed alone, lying awake for hours first. Distressingly, she couldn't shake the sense of rightness of being a sow.
They continued to perform, unable to avoid their obligation. The next night was the same, and again they approached it with dread, only to watch helplessly as Katharina again became a fat sow. Night after night, Katharina fattened and changed, becoming a bloated, grunting hog. Each time, it felt like the rightest thing in the world. Her snout, her hooves, her tail – these felt better to her than hair or fingers or breasts. In her nervous, skittish life, it became the only moment of real peace that she experienced. Each time, the pig part of her seemed more real, more true, than the human part. She began to grow used to the disappointment of becoming human again at the end, and privately looked forward to her time as a fat and happy sow.
The first month passed and then the second. After each performance, the lovers would try to think of some explanation, and Marcel spent every waking hour researching magic, trying to find something not founded in illusion. They tried to reason out a culprit, to no avail. Jean certainly didn't seem to act differently towards them. Astor had enemies, rival magicians he had professionally offended, but they were mere illusionists as well. There seemed to be no explanation for true sorcery.
Katharina and Marcel's sex life suffered, but didn't end entirely. He was self-conscious with her now, as though nervous that she'd transform during lovemaking. But he had said that he would always love her, regardless of what she looked like. Oh, such sentiment was easier when they were mere words! Now, his lover was a fat sow a little bit every day. It bothered him in a hard-to-describe way, that he was making love with something that, mere hours before, had been a disgusting, grunting sow.
As time passed, some of her piggish behavior followed Katharina back. She found herself grunting sometimes, and once started walking on all fours before she realized it was wrong. Clothing began to feel – not uncomfortable, exactly, but wrong in some ill-defined way. She was fortunate that most of her slips were in private, or alone with Marcel. She redoubled her efforts of carrying herself gracefully in public, although it was possible such slips would only be seen as advertisement. She had seen a video clip of her performance from the original show on the internet, transforming beautifully into a hog. In two months, it had garnered a half million views. She found herself watching it repeatedly, too. It was fun to see her gorgeous body metamorphose into a fat hog – normally, she just got to feel it.
As the third month came and went, the show's success only grew. The house was sold out every night. Professional illusionists were at a loss on how to explain how the trick was done – most wouldn't even venture a guess. Of course, Katharina knew that the only illusion was that it was an illusion. The strain was beginning to take its toll on the magician and his lover. Katharina had only one respite – her time as a hog. Unfortunately, that was a mere fifteen minute window at the end of each show. She suggested to Marcel that they mix up some elements of the program to keep things fresh, and he reluctantly agreed. One of the changes she suggested was tuning into a pig earlier in the program, and using her in the place of most of the other animals in other illusions. Marcel got a strange look on his face when she suggested it. But finally he acquiesced, and Katharina found herself happily a fat sow for nearly an hour every evening; the majority of her other 'human' tricks compressed into the first third of the program.
She grew to luxuriate in the change. The gradual shifting, her body fattening as the proper body parts took the place of the foreign elements (wait – she meant the foreign parts replacing the regular ones), was a release for the beautiful woman. The good feelings coursing through her as her snout grew longer, her tail curled out, the generous swell of her breasts diminished, her fingers stiffened to hooves; these became, in a strange sort of way, her favorite parts of each day. Being a fat hog was better even than the accolades of a crowd; better than sex with Marcel.
Night after night, she experienced it. Her squat, barrel-shaped body felt so right as it swelled, her legs and forelegs (wait – she meant arms) shortening and setting into their new sockets filling her with purpose. She could smell the other sow – the unused pig secreted under the stage that had never been needed – and wanted to socialize with her. She did, occasionally, as a human; but didn't tell Marcel about it. How would he react to her gradual decision that she would rather be a sow than a woman?
Marcel had noticed the same group of smug men in the audience several times, and confided in Katharina that he thought they might have something to do with the transformation. At first, she didn't care – she no longer viewed it as a curse, so why worry about the how of it? But then she considered the remaining month and a half of the show. What would happen to her after it was over? Would she be trapped as a woman forever, always denied her nightly periods as a hog? She grew nervous, and eager to find the cause of her piggification – if only to beg for its permanence. Turning back into a human was becoming a distressing experience for the hog.
But as the fourth month passed and the fifth began, Marcel too began to find a growing comfort with the arrangement. There was something appealing about the idea of one thing masquerading as another; the beautiful hidden thing only he knew the secret to – in this case, that there was no illusion. Others looked at pig-Katharina and only saw a model pretending to be a pig; he knew that there was more to the story. She was his buried treasure, his beautiful woman hidden in a fat sow – or was that his plump hog hidden in a gorgeous woman? Both bodies had begun to seem like treasures, albeit in different ways. He quietly began to enjoy the times when his lover was a fat pig; relish the companionship of the animal. He liked that she was both woman and pig, but became less concerned about the idea of Katharina always remaining a pig. The loss of a secret lover would allow for the gain of a public pet. He could find other lovers, if need be – he was a handsome, popular, and rich man.
Marcel did his best to investigate the strange men, but could find nothing special about them, either. There seemed to be no good leads as to who the author of Katharina's metamorphosis was. With his newfound acceptance of her piggishness, Katharina allowed herself to fall into more overtly porcine behavior when they were alone together, trotting about naked on all fours and grunting. She was still beautiful, but he found himself strangely not growing aroused by her buxom form. He was just proud of her, of how much like a pig she had become.
As the last month passed, both lovers contented themselves with living in the moment; the sow enjoying her time as a pig. Perhaps they could incorporate the trick into other routines, and prolong the mysterious force that made her a sow. But they wouldn't give up the time worrying about the future. Still, the last evening came too quickly, and as determined as they were to enjoy themselves, it was still like opening the last Christmas present. There was some regret that crept in.
As always, Marcel started the trick, and as always, no trick occurred. Katharina got down onto all fours in anticipation, feeling her nose twitch as the nostrils lifted, turning up to face forward. She squealed happily, feeling her tiny tusks grow, and her jaw slide forwards to join the modest but growing snout. She twitched her long ears, feeling them rise on her head, and tossed her hair back. She was getting fatter, the comforting heaviness of her squat body reassuring her, and her arms and legs thickened and shortened into her bulging torso. Her black dress ripped as she exceeded its limits, her gorgeous body quickly reshaping to that of a fat pig.
She oinked again at Marcel, feeling her eyes dim, her neck twisting up to allow her enlarging head to align properly for her quadruped form. Her blonde hair kept falling in her eyes, but she knew that soon it would be gone. Her hands and feet solidified into hooves, feeling solid on the ground beneath her ballooning weight. She squealed proudly as Katharina faded, as the pig emerged.
Her heavy breasts deflated, shrinking back into sagging dugs, even as the rows of other coarse teats grew in. The pig loved this part, the feeling of having enough nipples to nurse a litter. Beautiful breasts were much less desirable to her than being able to nurture pigs. The sow's hair faded away, her body proportions settling, and as always, Katharina had been replaced by a very fat sow.
She squealed in anticipation as the mental sensations flowed in, diminishing her human half in favor of a hog's mentality. She'd long since stopped fighting it, and within seconds, it had faded to background noise. She was truly a pig again, in body and spirit, just as she was meant to be. She grunted happily, turning to Marcel, and being led around to prove that the pig and the woman were the same.
Again, he took her through the crowd, letting people touch her. And again they returned to the stage and finished out the show. But this time, his caress did nothing. Marcel blinked in surprise. She wasn't changing back! He expected to feel fear, but didn't. At that moment, he felt only relief. She was a pig. There were no more questions or maybes. Just one indisputable sow. This time, the curtain dropped on a man and a pig. The hog, for her part, couldn't have been happier.
He took some time to acclimate himself to the new situation, the new reality. His former lover was permanently a sow. Katharina seemed eager to meet the other pig, and Marcel acceded, taking her to where the other hog was penned. The two sows ran over to each other, eagerly smelling the porcine odors of the other. Marcel noticed that Katharina was a little larger than the sow he had chosen for her double, but a fairly good match – he had chosen well. He was a little disturbed to watch his once-gorgeous assistant bury her snout in the other pig's rear. He had to remember, she was truly a pig – it was not just her appearance that had changed. "Come here, Katharina," he said, and both hogs trotted over to him. He had forgotten that the other one had the same name as his lover.
Marcel remembered his game with Katharina, when he had professed his love to her, regardless of form. He had never imagined that she would truly become a pig. But he found he did still love her, even if it wasn't the same way. Even as a fat sow, Katharina was his rock.
The next day, Katharina was still a pig. The reporters came to the Astor home, interviewing the great illusionist and watching the fat sow his assistant now was perform simple tricks. "Why the change in the program?" asked one reporter. "When will you 'change' Katharina back?"
Marcel smiled, steeling himself not to reveal the secret to the world. "It made for a much better show, I think," he said in false calmness. "As for when I'll change her back, I don't know – I must say, I rather like Katharina as a sow. Moreover, she deeply likes her new body – I really have no plans to change her back right now. I guess it'll be when the spirit moves me."
"She prefers being a pig?"
"Why not? Look at her. She has everything made. She doesn't have any concerns or worries, she just eats and plays. Far from it, she considers her human life the waste, and her pig life the fitting form. Why, she's been turned into a pig over a hundred and fifty times, and she finally just wanted to stay a pig for awhile," he blustered.
Still, Marcel felt a duty to try and change her back. Gathering his magic accoutrements and his sparse research, he tried everything he knew. But finally, he was forced to come to the realization that the gorgeous girl would always be a fat sow. There was no point in maintaining the fiction that he would ever change her back.
The only trick would be explaining it to others. After all, deep down, almost no one really believed in magic. They all thought the Teutonic beauty was vacationing, perhaps outside the country, to promote the illusion. After six months, people didn't know what to think. A handful did even believe that the hog was truly Katharina. After a year and then two, that impression had begun to catch on. A criminal investigation revealed no hint of wrongdoing, and there was no suspect other than Marcel, who insisted that she was the sow, and not kidnapped or worse. The recording of the sow's transformation was examined by the FBI and numerous other illusionists, who were all unable to detect any foul play. It seemed remotely possible, as bizarre as it sounded, that Katharina had actually physically metamorphosed into a fat pig. Why the busty blonde beauty would choose to become and remain a bloated sow was quite another question, though, and could not be answered satisfactorily.
Ironically, the only illusion was that the blubbery sow had retained her full human mind. No one suspected that she was entirely a pig, and Marcel kept that illusion alive – her willingness was his primary justification for keeping her a sow. And, to be sure, the pig did retain her human memories – just buried deep enough that they were a mere curiosity, like information she knew about an old friend she hadn't seen for a long time.
Marcel's already significant reputation exploded, and demand for his magic skyrocketed. He used the fat sow in his shows, making the pig fly and other simple tricks, and occasionally used mirrors and the like to make it look like he had briefly changed her back into a human before she returned to her rightful pig form. The good-natured sow took to this well, although she hardly understood it.
If he was honest with himself, Marcel had to admit that there was something appealing about having Katharina as a pig. Of course, there was a lot that he missed about her beautiful human form, but it was not as much of a loss as he expected. The notion of a gorgeous, high-maintenance woman living as a fat grunting sow was mildly intriguing on its own, but the idea of that sow preferring it was strangely electrifying. Moreover, every day he was around the hog, he became more used to her, more accepting of her role as a four hundred pound pig. It just seemed right that she was a sow, and the things he missed seemed less and less important – and less and less real.
Indeed, Katharina Eberhardt would remain a fat sow for the rest of her life, to her eternal pleasure. Were she intelligent enough to see the alternative, she would be glad of it. She did make an excellent pig.
The March of the Overmountain Men
(man and woman to pig transformation)
Story warning: nudity
#WeightGain #Transformation #PigGirls #PigGirl #FemalePigTransformation #FemaleTransformationStory
The air was unseasonably chill that morning, as Isaiah Sumter made his way to Major Patrick Ferguson’s headquarters. Of course, it was mid-September – the summer couldn’t last forever. Unlike this war. Like most of those nominally loyal to the Crown, Isaiah had been surprised when the Patriots actually made an armed conflict out of their grievances. And he had been even more surprised when Washington’s ragtag army had made it through its first winter against the greatest military power the world had ever known. Now, four years later, things still looked bad for the American rebels, with Charleston captured and their forces routed at Camden. But they kept fighting, and Isaiah wondered when everything would finally get back to normal.
It looked like the Crown was trying to put an end to it, at least here in the south. The great commander Lord Charles Cornwallis had come down to North Carolina personally, and Patriot defeats were beginning to mount up. And Loyalist garrisons were springing up everywhere, as well. Isaiah had been called to Major Ferguson’s headquarters in Gilbert Town. He didn’t know why – he wasn’t particularly active in the war. For the most part, he had just kept his head down and waited for it to pass.
But clearly, he had done something to draw the attention of the regional administrator. And his secretary sent Isaiah right in when he announced himself.
“Major Ferguson? You sent for me?” Isaiah asked as he came in.
“Ah, yes, Mister Sumter. Please, be seated. Can I offer you a glass of Madeira?”
“Yes, thank you,” Isaiah answered, seating himself in the proffered chair.
“Not as good as European wine, I’m afraid,” the Major apologized. “But it’s about the best we can get here.” Isaiah, being unfamiliar with European wines, merely remained silent, and drank his cup.
“You’re a beekeeper, yes? I imagine I have you to thank for the honey in my tea, then,” Ferguson continued.
“Perhaps so, sir.”
“Damn few luxury goods down here. Even compared to New York or Boston.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Hopefully you can get the rebellion put down quickly, so you can return to the comforts of home.”
“Indeed. I’m surprised it has gone on this long.”
“So, what service can I offer the Crown?” Isaiah asked at last, when both men had drained their glasses.
Ferguson smiled tightly. “You have an unimpeachably American name, Mister Sumter,” he said.
“I assure you, it doesn’t mean I identify with the Patriot cause, sir,” he said quickly. “I’m not even related to General Sumter.”
The Major just laughed, and held up his hands. “I mean no offence, Mister Sumter. In fact, I view it as a benefit. You should be able to blend in with the rebels easily – you look like them, and although I’m convinced that you love the King, you’ve never been overtly political. No one a few towns over would know you well enough to suspect anything, when your very name conjures up such deeply ingrained Patriot fantasies of the Carolina Gamecock.”
“You… you want me to be a spy?” Isaiah asked, the weight of Ferguson’s words dawning on him.
“I do,” the Major answered. “One of my missions here is to find and recruit men loyal to the Crown for the militia. But I’m also to use the militia to ferret out and destroy Patriot enclaves. I’ve ordered any rebels to surrender, and threatened to lay waste to their country with both fire and sword if they don’t. But the whole Watauga region is a particularly rebellious area, and many of them – these so-called Overmountain Men – have openly refused. Rumor is, they plan to fight back. I need to know where, how, and who all is gathering against me. And I don’t have any good assets there.”
“Watauga… isn’t that Indian land?” asked Isaiah.
“They lease their land directly from the Cherokees, in violation of the Treaty of Lochaber. Why the savages tolerate it, I don’t know.”
“But the Cherokee support you, don’t they? I thought the Crown had hired them on to raid Patriot holdings.”
“Some do, some don’t. This man Dragon Canoe and those loyal to him are on our side, but inexplicably, some still favor the rebels.”
“I’ll never understand Indian politics.”
“Nor will I. But I need a man who can blend in to go to Watauga and look around. Find any Loyalists, and let us know who they are for recruitment. And find out the strength, number, and plans of any Patriot rebels in the area.”
“Of course, the Crown will compensate you well for your service. And I will hold you and your assets immune to recruitment or confiscation for the war effort. Just do this task for me, Mister Sumter, and I promise that you can simply wait out the war as you’ve been doing.”
Isaiah swallowed, recognizing the implicit threat. But the terms were reasonably generous, and he did want to avoid the fighting if at all possible. He nodded. “I’ll do it, sir,” he said.
“Excellent,” said the Major, clapping him on the shoulder, and directing him towards the door.
There were few things Isaiah wanted less than to be caught as a spy by Overmountain Men, but there seemed little choice for him. So he put together provision, and set out north for Watauga on horse, a journey of several days. He wasn’t particularly familiar with the area, and had always considered the people from over the Appalachians to be crude and uncivilized. Rough folk, who would deal brutally with a spy.
The best place to start, if his limited information was correct, seemed to be the town of Sycamore Shoals. So he deliberately journeyed to the west of it, paying to stable his horse in an outlying town and then approaching on foot, as though he were travelling to the east and not directly from Cornwallis’s stronghold. By the time he reached the Shoals, his feet ached, unused to so much walking in the rocky, mountainous terrain.
The area was agrarian, as so much of the south was. But even so, Sycamore Shoals seemed to have a lot of hog farmers. Pens with dozens of live hogs even seemed to go into the town, and the smell of them wafted on the breeze. It wasn’t particularly a smell he was unused to – although from a larger and more urban town, there were plenty of farmers around raising every staple crop and animal. A man just got used to it.
He looked around, trying to get a feel for his surroundings even as he practiced his story in his head. He would need to establish himself quickly here. But Isaiah found good luck almost immediately. As he was approaching the town, he saw a pretty young woman out hanging her laundry to dry. He approached her calmly and struck up a conversation.
“Good afternoon, Miss,” he said, taking off his hat. “My name’s Isaiah Sumter. I’m travelling out to Cross Creek, and was hoping you could spare a cup of water.”
“On foot?” the woman asked. Her nostrils flared a couple of times ever so slightly, as she looked him over. But she seemed to take an interest in him.
“The Cherokee shot my horse a few days back, and I’ve been without most of my provisions ever since,” he said. “I have a cousin in Cross Creek, so I thought I’d return there.”
“Well, Mister Sumter, I’m Abigail Chiles. Help me finish hanging my linens, and I’ll get you a draught of water and a bite to eat, too.” Isaiah complied, taking the opportunity to get a good look at his hostess. The pretty girl was brunette, with deep dark eyes, a comely face, and a very full bust peeking over her low tucker. He was quite taken with the attractive woman, and she seemed to smile at his stares and attention.
She was true to her word, taking him into her kitchen and feeding him as soon as her laundry was on the line. But Abigail did far more than provide a mere bite to eat. She laid out a full meal. She offered him plenty of water, fresh carrots and potatoes, and a thick, rich salted pork chop that made his mouth water just smelling it. And there was bread with a healthy amount of butter, besides.
“I didn’t see that you had any cows,” Isaiah noted, helping himself to some of the creamy butter.
“We don’t have many,” admitted Abigail. We trade for it with the Cherokee. The civilized ones have dairy farms nearby, and we trade our hogs for beef, mutton, and milk, and our vegetables for theirs.”
“Did you cook this all yourself, Miss Chiles?” he asked around bites of the rich, juicy pork.
“Aye,” she answered proudly. “Do you like it?”
“The best food I’ve tasted in years.”
Abigail smiled broadly, a warm, unguarded smile. “I’m glad,” she said. “I love food. It’s nice to have a strapping man who appreciates one’s cooking.”
“Are you… unmarried?” Isaiah asked, painfully aware that he was wasting time with questions of interest to him, and of no relevance to Ferguson. And she was quite willing to talk with him at length. He found out that her mother had died in childbirth years back, and she had volunteered to keep her father’s house rather than get married and leave him alone, as her ten siblings had done. They had then moved to Sycamore Shoals soon after its founding. He shared with her his cover story as well, and although she raised an eyebrow, her nostrils flaring again, she seemed to buy it.
“If you’re weary, perhaps you might tarry a day or two, or however long it takes you to secure a horse. Cross Creek is a ways to go on foot, with war and unrest around.”
“If it isn’t imposing too much on you or your father, I might take you up on that offer,” Isaiah said. It was a perfect excuse to scout out the town – claiming to be looking for a good horse to buy, or a merchant’s wagon to ride along with. He could get the lay of the land, the relative strength of the Patriot sympathizers, and, if he was very lucky, a few leads to Loyalists that Ferguson could enlist.
Abigail offered to show him around the town, and he readily accepted. Like most Appalachian communities, it seemed fairly self-sufficient in its rustic atmosphere. The area was well defended, with the wooden palisades of Fort Caswell standing like silent guardians over the townsfolk. Several dozen men of the militia drilled in the courtyard, and Abigail pointed out their commander, Isaac Shelby. He was a man of thirty summers with a ruddy complexion, back in the area after a successful skirmish near Musgrove Mill. His men weren’t as disciplined as British regulars, and some of their drilling tactics seemed to Isaiah’s eyes almost Indian. He carefully took note of everything he could.
There were numerous farms, and the center of town offered a blacksmith, candle makers, cloth, and dyes. A new Presbyterian church was shepherded by a heavyset, somewhat severe looking man Abigail introduced as Reverend Samuel Doak, although she said he served a circuit and not just the one church. The cleric watched them go by, his nose twitching like he was smelling something foul on the air.
The outskirts included the sawmill and gristmills near the Watauga River, as well as a tannery. Aside from the Cherokee and other Overmountain settlements, there wasn’t as much trading with outsiders as Isaiah was accustomed to. The market was less organized than he expected, although travelling merchants seemed to come and go with some regularity to a reasonably prosperous trading post owned by a big, broad-shouldered man Abigail introduced as John Carter. Clearly, their trading routes were not yet obstructed by the Crown. He saw corn, tobacco, rice, indigo, and even cotton and wheat being taken to the mills or looms. As they walked about, Abigail cheerfully recounted the story of the town’s founding, with old James Robertson’s humble corn crib.
But, of course, swine seemed to be their main product. There were pigsties everywhere, from very small to quite large, and far deeper into town than in any settlement he had ever seen before. There seemed to be lots of breeds represented, and many seemed unusually large to his eyes. He could hear hogs grunting and squealing in almost conversational tones wherever they went, even when he couldn’t see a pen. A few unpenned hogs even meandered about on the roads, unperturbed by the activity of the village.
As they passed a pigpen with the gate cracked open, Isaiah saw two huge hogs inside going at it hot and heavy. “You have very large hogs here,” he noted, making idle conversation.
Abigail looked over at the enormous swine, and burst into a smile. She laughed. “Hey, Mister Ellery, Carlton is in your pigpen again!” she called, and then slapped the amorous boar on the rump. “Get out, you old rascal! You can romance her somewhere else!” The boar squealed, but followed her command, and both gigantic pigs slunk away out of the sty as if they could understand the insults, and had been caught doing something wrong. Isaiah raised an eyebrow. But as he watched them waddle past, he noticed that the hogs were unusual in more than just their size. The fat boar was quite hairy, and almost appeared to have a reddish beard around his snout.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Abigail smiled, as if at a private joke. “Oh, this old troublemaker likes sneaking into other pigpens. He… ah, he’s a well-known boar that likes stealing pigswill and, uh, romancing the sows.”
“Where is he, Miss Chiles?” a man, presumably Mister Ellery, puffed as he ran out back.
“It was just Carlton again. We chased him off,” answered Abigail.
“And who’s this?” Ellery asked. His own nostrils flared, as though he was sniffing at the air. His eyes flicked back and forth between Isaiah and Abigail.
“Mister Isaiah Sumter,” she said airily. “He’s travelling east to kin in Cross Creek, and needs to look around town to find a horse or passage.”
“I see,” said Mister Ellery, raising an eyebrow. “Then I’ll leave you to your task.”
Isaiah watched him go. “That was a curious man,” he said.
“Just worried about strangers. With the war and all,” she said.
“A Patriot, then?”
“Most people around here are, if they’re anything,” said Abigail.
“Well, I’m not close kin to General Sumter, but I am proud of his achievements,” Isaiah said.
He enjoyed his informal tour with Abigail, as they strolled about and she introduced him to everyone he might want to meet. She was open and charming and articulate, and everyone who seemed wary about him was put at ease by her. It struck Isaiah as odd. Abigail seemed like quite a catch, and was well thought of by her community. He wondered why she hadn’t found a husband yet. Between her beauty and her cooking and her infectiously confident demeanor, it seemed strange that she was un-courted. In fact, she was just the type of girl he’d like to find back home.
When she turned to go back, Isaiah insisted on coming with her, to help with any chores he may have taken her away from. Ferguson wouldn’t have been happy, but he felt the digression added to his cover story. Besides, he had learned a lot today with Abigail’s help, and he was not tired of her company.
She accepted his help graciously, and he assisted with gathering firewood as she readied for dinner. She chose a chicken to prepare, and cleaned it as he brought in her laundry. It wasn’t until she was almost done that her father arrived, and by then Isaiah was quite curious to meet him.
Mister Chiles was a man of fifty, starting to go grey and with dirt under his nails. He had been down in Shelving Rock, selling hogs. He seemed initially distrustful of Isaiah, but Abigail put him at ease reasonably easily. Of course, Isaiah wouldn’t blame the older man for being nervous, if all his other children had left. A potential suitor would look like quite a threat to a man like that. Isaiah noticed that he, too, flared his nostrils, sniffing at the air as he met the stranger. Was that some peculiar local custom? A nervous tic of the Overmountain Men, which they were themselves unconscious of? It seemed bizarre – almost like everyone was smelling him, when they first met him.
Dinner, however, was quite pleasant, and Abigail’s cooking was in top form. Cornbread, sweet potatoes, peas, and rice accompanied her delicious chicken, although he missed the honey that usually graced his own table. It was a lot more food than he was accustomed to eating for his evening meal, and he wondered if this was common for the people of the Appalachians – he had always imagined them having a worse diet than he. But Mister Chiles didn’t act like anything was out of the ordinary, and ate as much as two men. Abigail, too, ate much more than it seemed like her comparatively thin frame would routinely allow.
But the dinner conversation was as delightful as the food, and Isaiah felt far more comfortable in the company of these Overmountain people than he had ever expected to. Part of that was Abigail, of course – but part of it was more than a mere physical attraction to her. These weren’t the backwater rubes he had thought they might be. They were charming and sharp witted, albeit lacking his education and polish. Even their peculiarities seemed charming. When Abigail laughed at a joke Isaiah made, her mirth sounding almost like a pig squealing. It was strange, but kind of endearing – perhaps she had been around hogs too long. After dinner, Mister Chiles played Isaiah for a few rounds of Nine Men’s Morris, but the old man dominated him, and so didn’t insist on playing it very long.
Being quite full, Isaiah was glad to retire for the night, collapsing into the bed Abigail had prepared in their extra room. He drifted for a while between wake and sleep, entertaining impure thoughts about his pretty hostess. He realized that he could hear father and daughter talking in hushed tones, their voices sounding somewhat deeper than he expected. But even though he tried, he couldn’t make out the words. The big meal had made him lethargic, and he soon drifted off to sleep.
Breakfast the next morning was also well out of scale from the small repast he was used to. Both bacon and sausage dominated Abigail’s table, the best Isaiah had ever tasted. Porridge, molasses, leftover cornbread, and scrapple accompanied it, and cider to drink. It was clear that both Abigail and her father had been up for hours starting their morning chores, but they hadn’t disturbed his sleep. Mister Chiles again had dealings in another town, and soon departed, leaving Isaiah to his business.
He stayed for several days. Now that he knew the layout of Sycamore Shoals, he could start feeling out the townsfolk under the guise of his cover story. He was quickly disappointed by the prospects of Loyalist recruitment, though. Abigail had spoken the truth; everyone around seemed either pro-Patriot or un-political. Even the handful of Cherokee traders seemed indisposed to the Crown. There were clearly Cherokee hostile to the settlers – ones loyal to a war chief called Tsiyu Gansini, or ‘Dragging Canoe’ (not ‘Dragon Canoe’, as Major Ferguson had thought) – but Isaiah never met any of them. The only red men he encountered were not only at peace with the town, but openly friendly.
He continued to ask around about horses or wagons, gently feeling the place out. Without Abigail with him, he got the distinct impression that the townspeople were humoring him – performing for him, rather than truly interacting. Like they were only letting him see what they wanted him to see. Apparently, Abigail’s acceptance of him had not completely convinced the townsfolk to drop their natural distrust of outsiders.
But what was indisputably clear was that the number of men drilling with Isaac Shelby was increasing every day. Isaiah counted them carefully, doing his best to determine from their drills what their battle strategy might be. It seemed as much defensive as offensive, and he thought it likely they were bracing themselves against Ferguson’s threatened attack, rather than planning one of their own. But he couldn’t be sure yet.
Probably, Isaiah should have moved on, but he was enjoying his time with Abigail Chiles, and eating her delicious cooking. She frequently served pork, which was unsurprising given the large number of hogs around. They owned quite a few of their own, not all of which were penned. She seemed remarkably adept at getting the swine to obey her, moving them around like she spoke their language.
And, of course, she was easy on the eyes. All of her was beautiful, but he found it particularly hard to draw his eyes away from her lovely bosom, And Abigail didn’t seem to avoid his gaze. In fact, she often seemed to him to bend over, or move her shoulders forward, or any other little thing to invite attention to her soft flesh. He was quite enchanted with the buxom country girl. It was a pity that her political leanings were probably towards the Patriots. She seemed like the perfect kind of girl to make a home with.
Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask her about her plans for finding a husband, and starting a family. Surely she didn’t plan to live in her father’s house her whole life? Abigail just laughed, her unusual, infectious laugh. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind having a litter of my own babies,” she admitted. “But I could never leave my father alone. Any husband would have to take him in, as well.”
But despite their close bond, there did seem to be something wrong between father and daughter. They often talked with each other late into the night after Isaiah had retired, and one night he was certain he heard her arguing with her father. They were trying to keep their voices down, so it was hard to make out the context – he didn’t seem to approve of something she was doing or wanted to do, and their deeper-sounding voices were harsh. He was groggy with another huge meal, and was having trouble focusing, but he tried, interested to hear what she wanted, if only to take her side the next morning. It was a strain, and he couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard Abigail say the word ‘love’. He closed his eyes, feeling a quick surge of confidence. Isaiah slept like a baby that night.
The morning of September 25th was much the same as his previous days, and he relaxed with his hosts, not looking forward to spending his time casing the town and surrounding area again. The breakfast conversation was lively and enjoyable, and apparently Mister Chiles was not leaving town to sell today, instead going to see Isaac Shelby at the garrison. Isaiah asked a few casual questions about the buildup, although he didn’t get any concrete answers. But he didn’t mind, enjoying talking to Abigail just for the conversation itself. He was growing quite fond of her. In a way, he was surprised – he had certainly never expected to be attracted to an Overmountain woman.
Eventually, he went into town, wondering if he could find another excuse to delay leaving the area. But soon, he noticed that something was going on. The town was full of people, and more seemed to be arriving constantly. John Carter’s trading house was packed. And by early afternoon, it was clear that it wasn’t just people moving through – they were congregating here. It was some sort of gathering. Isaiah found that he couldn’t even get close to Fort Caswell, which was now teeming with hundreds of men.
One thing was very obvious, though. This wasn’t a defensive gathering. It was a war party. And all of the newcomers glared at him with suspicion and hostility, as if they could tell his loyalty just by looking at him. Isaiah swallowed. It wasn’t safe for him here, anymore. And he needed to get this information back to Major Ferguson as soon as possible.
He quickly returned to Abigail’s house, to gather his few possessions and set back out west to recover his horse. A mob like that would need six or seven days, maybe eight if he was lucky, to march the seventy miles to Gilbert Town over this rough terrain. On horse, he’d be back in plenty of time to sound the alarm. Disturbingly, the crowd was large enough that it filled the town and surrounding fields. He could see armed men milling about even on Abigail’s land, and more continued to congregate there.
As he entered the cool dark of the house, he went straight to his room, throwing his things together. But as he moved back out into the foyer, a shadow fell across the door, and he looked up to see Abigail smiling at him. “What’s going on?” she asked mildly.
“I need to be heading out, Miss Chiles,” he said. “I thank you for your great hospitality, and hope you’ll convey my gratitude to your father, as well.”
“So soon? A pity. I had hoped we could convince you to stay on a few more days.”
“As did I, but things have changed.”
“What about your horse?” she asked. “Surely you don’t mean to walk to Cross Creek.”
“I need to leave now,” he said.
“I think not. Too dangerous to leave, today,” Abigail answered, folding her arms under her bust.
Isaiah glanced down at her now-prominent cleavage, but recovered quickly. “Please step aside, Miss Chiles. You don’t understand how urgent my business is.”
“Oh, I do,” she said. “I had just hoped the nature of that business might have changed.” Abigail smiled at him strangely. “You know, I can smell the British on you.”
Isaiah was unnerved by that. She knew? But… but why had she helped him, then? Was this some kind of trap? “Please get out of the way, Miss Chiles, and you won’t be harmed,” he blustered, trying to gauge how to handle her.
“You couldn’t hurt me if you wanted to, my sweet. Now please, why don’t you sit down and let me fix you something to eat.”
“Are you addled? You can’t possibly restrain me. What do you even intend to do?”
“I’m just meant to keep you here for the night. We could all tell right off who you are, fancy red coat or no.”
“Don’t be a fool. There’s nothing a wisp of a girl can do to stop a hale and armed man. I outweigh you by four stone!”
“Heh. No you don’t, you Crown-kissing rascal,” she laughed. Her attitude distressed Isaiah – what could she possibly be thinking? Almost instinctively, he reached for his flintlock as he turned his shoulder to her, meaning to push past.
But as Abigail braced herself between him and the door, she began to change. First she pulled the drawstrings of her dress loose, shucking it off in a clearly practiced, fluid motion. Isaiah was surprised to see that she wore no shift or corset, and thought at first that she meant to seduce him. And that wouldn’t have been a bad plan, because she looked exceptionally beautiful bare. Abigail’s hair was free, a brunette cascade around her soft shoulders. Her big tits heaved, now completely unsupported, and his eyes followed their seductive motion down her body. Her smooth belly, her excellent childrearing hips, and her long legs were a picture of feminine beauty – everything he could have hoped for. He hesitated for a crucial instant, feeling himself aroused by her.
But almost immediately, she began to swell. It took him a second to realize what was happening. Abigail was moving towards him, and he could see that she was fattening – her belly and hips swelling larger. It felt like the moment lasted forever, like he had all the time in the world to watch this gorgeous girl become something unspeakably alien. To observe in detail each astonishing change in her lovely body.
Her ears grew large, flopping out of her unruly hair even as they rose to the top of her head and pointed. But their growth was as nothing compared to her nose. Abigail’s cute nostrils flared, like they had when he had first met her, then swelled out, tilting upward to face him. Her whole nose blossomed into a large, rooting snout, dominating her face and pushing her darker, beady eyes further to the sides. It grew so large it swallowed her mouth, her teeth and tongue inside also changing, her new tusks emerging from the gaping maw. In fact, her whole head and neck swelled with the snout, tilting up even as her body leaned forward, looking like nothing less than the head of a huge hog on the once-beautiful woman’s bloating body. Even her lovely hair thinned away without a trace.
A full-bodied squeal rose from her transformed throat, powered by much larger lungs. Her gorgeous body continued to fatten, as she added easily a hundred pounds, and then two, and then three, her feminine curves expanding into the bulk of a very large sow that was hurtling towards him. She had raised her hands as if to take hold of him, but now Isaiah could see that they too were changing, becoming blocky hooves even as her arms shrank into forelegs, settling to either side of her prodigious bulk. In the end, only two of her vestigial fingers were left as dew claws behind each solid, bi-formed hoof.
Her legs were changing, too, becoming fatter and shorter, but her overall height seemed to stay the same as her back lengthened, her torso bearing more of the strain of her huge weight. Her whole body was looking less and less like a fat woman and more like the barrel-shaped mass of a pig. All traces of her hips were swallowed by her bulk, and small teats began to grow out behind her big jiggling breasts, each crowned by a thick, dark nipple.
As she fell across him, he felt her lovely breasts squish against his body, but they too quickly transformed into teats, shrinking away and leaving only the bestial, thickened nipples behind. Soon there was nothing different about them compared to her other twelve. Whatever else was left of Abigail’s humanity quickly bled away as she collapsed on top of him, replaced with warm and bristly pig flesh.
It was hard to believe, but it was over in seconds. Abigail had become an immense sow, and even in his uncomfortably close proximity, Isaiah could tell no difference between her and ordinary swine. He noticed that the fat hog had retained her lovely pale skin, but it was decorated now with scattered grey spots dotted across her enormous rump. He struggled, but he couldn’t even reach his flintlock or knife. And nothing he could do could shift the hog’s enormous weight off of him. She had efficiently pinned him to the ground, preventing him from moving his arms or legs.
Outside, he could hear voices. He realized that the preacher, Doak, was speaking, blessing the war party. “My countrymen, you are about to set out on an expedition which is full of hardships and dangers, but one in which the Almighty will attend you,” he intoned. “The Mother Country has her hand upon you, these American colonies, and takes that for which our fathers planted their homes in the wilderness – our liberty!” he shouted. A cheer went up. It was as much an inflammatory speech as it was a prayer. The muster was happening now, and he couldn’t get away to do anything about it!
“What are you?” Isaiah cried, frantic. He still tried to struggle and squirm, but the sow was far too fat for him to even hope to move. In her new form, the animal had to weigh seven hundred pounds. Even breathing was a struggle under her enormous bulk. The hog wasn’t lying directly on his chest, fortunately, but her mass did cover his diaphragm, making his breaths painful and short.
“I’m your guard. At least, until the muster is complete,” the sow said, her voice deeper but enunciating almost as clearly as when she had been a woman. “After all, we can’t have a Crown spy getting back to warn Ferguson about what’s coming.”
“S… spy? You… you can talk?” he blubbered, his mind trying to make sense of the impossible thing he’d just witnessed.
“Like I said, we could all smell the British about you. And I did mean that literally.”
“Ah…all of you? You’re all… all hogs?”
The animal nodded her huge head. “We can communicate like hogs, with our eyes and posture as much as our voices. Everyone I took you to meet, smelled the red on you immediately. And I was able to convey to all of them that you were probably a spy, but one I had under control. By the first night, they’d decided what to do with you. Everything you’ve seen, you’ve seen because we chose to let you. So, it seems only fair to let you see this, too.”
She moved a little, allowing him to sit up enough to see out a window. But his hands and legs were still hopelessly trapped under the sow’s immense bulk. “Look out that window, love. See us as we are,” she offered.
Isaiah couldn’t see the preacher, but he could still hear his ‘blessing’. “Brave men, you are not unacquainted with battle. Your hands have already been taught to war and your fingers to fight!” he shouted, working himself up to a fever pitch. “Go forth then in the strength of your manhood to the aid of your brethren, the defense of your liberty and the protection of your homes. And may the God of Justice be with you and give you victory!”
Isaiah swallowed dryly. Several large hogs already stood in the field, grunting fiercely. But as he watched, the hundreds of men shifted, growing like their leaders. Each one took on mass, becoming huge, heavyset warriors with the features of boars. It was a fearful sight, and even at a distance, he could hear their grunting war chant. Few became complete hogs, as Abigail had done, or transformed as quickly, but every man that Isaiah could see was partly beast. This was a muster not of men, but of monsters.
Isaiah was nearly in a panic, but the sow on top of him continued to talk in a genial, conversational tone. If he wasn’t looking at her, he could almost imagine that it was the pretty Abigail speaking, instead of an immense sow.
“See that boar with the long snout?” she asked. “That’s John Sevier there, with two hundred and forty boars behind him. And you’ll recognize that one as Isaac Shelby, with as much again. And that big boar there, with the bushy brown hair? That’s William Campbell from Virginia, with four hundred more. And that’s only half our strength.”
“My God,” he whispered. The British would be wholly unprepared to fight such creatures. He noticed that the ones who had become full swine dwarfed even Abigail. “None of you are human – you’re devils!”
“We are no such thing,” said the sow, annoyed.
“But you have so many hog farms here! You… you eat your own kind! What else could you be?”
“Don’t be daft. We’re skin shifters. We’re no more common hogs than we are fish. But we understand swine better than anyone, so we raise them best. No better pork than here in Watauga.”
“The British will put you down like the beasts you are! Militia can’t stand up to real soldiers. He’ll kill all your menfolk, and the British will dine on pork all winter!”
“Abigail snorted. “We’re marching on Ferguson, not Cornwallis. And Ferguson doesn’t have anything more than militia, either.”
Outside, Doak was still speaking. “Oh, God of Battle, arise in Thy might. Avenge the slaughter of Thy people. Confound those who plot for our destruction. Crown this mighty effort with victory, and smite those who exalt themselves against liberty and justice and truth. Help us as good soldiers to wield the Sword of the Lord and Gideon. Amen!”
“Amen!” the soldiers replied, although more than a few of them only lifted grunting sounds and squeals as their war cries.
“Ferguson is still a career officer, with a thousand men! Do you really want your friends, your father, to end their lives on a Loyalist’s plate?”
“You think too highly of your blood-backed friends. Ferguson won’t even be alive after we’re done with you. Look, we know these lands. We’re fighting for our own homes. We can live off the land, or disappear into a forest, without a human trace. And all of our kind outweigh yours. It’s true, we don’t get involved much, since we can’t use our full strength so publicly very often. But when we do, we have nothing to fear from people like little Major Patrick Ferguson.”
“Is this why the Indians won’t drive you off their land? Do they think you’re some kind of animal gods?”
The hog peered down at him with a bemused look on her snout. “Don’t be an idiot. Their religion is animist, but that doesn’t mean they worship animals. And you’ve got to understand, there’s the Cherokee, and then there’s the Cherokee. The ones sympathetic to you? Tsiyu Gansini, and those with him? Who write those fancy treaties, and help you kill Patriots? They’re like you. But the ones who rent or sell land to us? Who harvest with us, trade with us? Nanyehi, and those with her? They’re like us. They’re only human when they want to be.”
“Some of the Indians are hogs, like you, too?”
“We don’t consider ourselves common pigs, love. Like I said, we’re skin shifters, not mindless swine. And don’t be ridiculous. No, Nanyehi’s a doe. And others of her people are wolves, or beaver, or all manner of other beasts. There’s more variety among them. But they’re skin shifters, like us. And whatever feuds whites and reds have, or wars Patriots and Redcoats have, our kind stick together.”
Isaiah looked out the window again, watching men and swine and creatures halfway between begin to march south. Some of the gigantic hogs were acting as draft animals, hauling supplies. But not many – these were after all soldiers that needed no tents, and who could forage off the land. A few mostly human beasts were on horseback. But most marched, on two legs even if their features were anything but human.
“I’ve got to say, it’s kind of nice not hiding what we are,” the obese sow mused airily. “Usually, we can only show what we are among our own kind, or when we’re with the Cherokee skin shifters. But I feel like I’ve had the opportunity to be honest with you, Isaiah, in a way I’m not often allowed to be.”
“You’re a fat hog,” Isaiah spat. “I would have preferred the lie of the beautiful woman I thought I knew to this obscene truth.”
“You don’t mean that, sweetheart. And you do know the real me. It’s just, the real me spends a large part of her life as a sow. But I’m still the same person, woman or hog.”
“What are you beasts going to do to Ferguson’s militia? Most of them are continentals, too.”
“Then they should have taken the continental cause. Oh, we’ll undoubtedly rip your people apart. After what your devil Tarleton did to our surrendered boys up at Waxhaws? Oh, no, Isaiah. We’ll give them Tarleton's Quarter. We’ll give them Buford's play. No one who sees a hog, will live to tell the British about it.”
Isaiah felt inexplicably betrayed. A sour taste rose in the back of his throat. “So, are you to be the one who does it? I must say, I don’t fancy the idea of being executed by a fat sow.”
“You wound me to the quick, Mister Sumter. And here I thought you were growing fond of me. I certainly smelled the arousal on you.”
“That was when I thought you were a comely woman. Not a fat, grunting hog.”
“I’m both, dear. And I consider myself quite fetching as a hog.”
“So, do you smother me? Break all my bones?”
“You’re mine to kill if I want to, Mister Sumter. Or, I can hand you off to one of the menfolk for any executions. Your fate is in my hooves.”
“Then why don’t you do it, sow?”
“Because I can also turn you, if I please.”
“Turn me?” he sputtered, surprised. “You mean, make me into a hog, too?”
Abigail laughed hard at that, the hog’s full-bodied voice eventually petering out into wheezing squeals. “No, sweetheart. Are you daft? Turn you Patriot.”
She could see him visibly relax. “So, you are a committed Patriot,” he said.
The pig girl nodded. “I am. You’ve seen wonders here now, Mister Sumter. I imagine your idea of the world has been much widened. We want to be free, and will be no matter the cost. But you seem to be Loyalist of convenience, rather than conviction. Convince me that you’ve seen the rightness of our cause, and you can have your life. Maybe even… maybe even me. The comely me you saw before.”
“What? You… you’d consider me?”
Abigail shrugged what passed for her shoulders. “Why not? Like I say, I can smell you. There’s so much less you can hide from your smell, my dear. I’ll warn you, I can smell when you’re lying – the extra acridness to your sweat, the tightness to your bowels, a dozen other telltale signs. Say you’ll be our man, and I’ll know if it’s true or not. But frankly, I could smell you the whole time we’ve been together. And you smelled so lovely. Despite your recent insults, I can tell that your attraction to me was genuine. Both physical, and even the beginnings of emotion, too. Love, Mister Sumter. I admit, I find you quite charming, as well. You seem like a good enough man, and you are certainly handsome to my eyes. Did you know, I’ve not been promised to a boar? And my father is open-minded – he would accept me marrying a human. So, if you were able to get past my being a ‘fat grunting hog’, as you say, well then, there might be some hope for us after all. Think it over for a while. Our people are not well suited to kneeling. And unless I miss my guess, nor are you, Isaiah.”
Isaiah laid back, no longer struggling under the sow’s tremendous bulk. After a few moments of thought, he spoke quietly. “I’d be giving up everything,” he said.
“What did you do, back home?”
“I… I’m a beekeeper.”
“We could use one of those. Hogs like sweet things, you know.”
“But… but all my hives and equipment are back home.”
“You can build new hives, and we can catch more bees. No one would expect you to be producing honey right away – everyone needs time to get their start.”
“I don’t know if I can begin again from nothing,” he protested.
“Oh, sweetheart. The redcoats will seize all of your property, if they haven’t already. Just like they did up north. Ally or enemy, they consume everything they touch. The only difference is they might compensate you for it if you’re on their side. But you don’t have anything to go back to, whatever they’ve promised you.”
He was quiet for a while after that, mulling things over. What did he want? And which side of this conflict did he want to end up on? After today, a British victory no longer seemed so certain. And he had thought, many times over the last few days, how much he was attracted to Abigail Chiles. Of course, that was when he thought she was a normal woman. Could he love a sow? And could he live among hogs, as the only human? He didn’t want to give an answer too quickly, if she could in fact smell out the subtle tells of a lie. He needed to be sure.
The sounds of marching hogs had long faded by the time he had reached a decision. He licked his lips, considering the import of what he would say. “Miss Chiles…” he began.
“You may call me by my Christian name, if you’ve tired of calling me ‘hog’.”
“Yes, Isaiah?” the sow asked, looking at him with something resembling a smile.
“I… I choose… I choose you.”
Her squealing laugh accompanied a sudden shift in pressure, as the immense sow stood up, lifting her gargantuan bulk off of him. Isaiah moaned, as pin pricks ran across his legs, both of which had gone to sleep. “Then I choose you, too,” the fat hog said, and as he watched, she transformed again. Hair poured out around her face as her head shrank, her snout shifting back to a dainty nose. Hundreds of pounds of pigflesh melted away, revealing the fetching curves of her womanly body. Her plump breasts swelled large, the nipples returning to the lovely, subtle appearance of a woman rather than their primitive porcine shape. Arms and legs took on their old forms, her hooves softening into dainty hands and feet. Soon, she had returned entirely to the human race, and she helped him hobble to a chair.
He appreciated the help, unsure if he could even stand on his own with his numb body. And he liked being so close to her, her soft limbs lovingly around him, her big tits squished against his shoulder. It was comforting touching her human body, after so much contact with her hog form. As soon as he was seated, she brought him a cup of water, making sure he drank some. He found himself watching her big, bouncing breasts as she moved about, doing his best to reconcile her beauty with the massive sow he now knew her to be.
Only then did she seem to remember her clothing, returning to her dress and pulling it back on. He supposed that such a reaction was to be expected – after all, she was part pig. Nudity was almost undoubtedly more natural for her. But as much as he liked seeing her naked, her clothing brought him a welcome sense of normalcy. She bustled about, preparing supper for them both. It was delicious, as usual. Only now, he didn’t question why she could eat so much.
Their conversation was quiet, and casual. “I’m looking forward to having honey with our bread,” Abigail mused, and he agreed.
“Honey is more than just a sweetener,” he explained to her. I use it to take the pain away from a burn, or to ease a sore throat. And there is no alcohol so sweet as honey beer.”
She smiled at him broadly, thinking of their future together. “I’ll be proud to have you as a husband, Isaiah Sumter,” she said.
“You’ll be human for the ceremony, right? And, ah, the wedding night?” he asked, his cheeks burning.
Abigail laughed again. “Are you blushing? Come, come, Isaiah! You’ve already seen me naked, now. But aye, I’ll stay human as long as it takes you to be comfortable with the real me. Nonetheless, I think, eventually you’re come to like me in any form. I will never push you in regards to that, though. Especially when you are bedding me.”
“And when you said you wanted a ‘litter’ of children…”
She sobered slightly. “I meant it. I told you I was one of eleven siblings. I neglected to mention that we were all in only two litters.”
“Well. I’ve always looked forward to fatherhood,” said Isaiah. “I think having a lot of children will suit me well.” Abigail put her hand on his, feeling a surge of completeness. She could smell it on him – he would be a good man for her.
Abigail and Isaiah were married the following spring, and soon settled in to their new life together. The Overmountain men had returned victorious from their battle at Kings Mountain, having so badly obliterated the Loyalist militia that Lord Cornwallis quickly abandoned his campaign for North Carolina, retreating even further south. As Abigail had predicted, Major Ferguson had not survived his encounter with the hogs. And within two years of their union, the British surrendered, inaugurating a new era and a new nation.
The skin shifter townsfolk of Sycamore Shoals took a while to warm to the former spy and human, but he eventually established his standing in the world of the hogs, acclimating well to his new neighbors and their peculiarities. Their dual nature as swine became less and less a concern for him, and he associated with his neighbors as people and as hogs, finding that many of them favored their porcine bodies. Eventually, even Abigail’s sow form became attractive to him. He grew to enjoy watching her transform from girl to hog, although he tended to prefer watching the sow turn back into a beautiful woman.
It took a few years to build up his beekeeping business, and to establish his reputation trading honey in the white and Cherokee markets. But Abigail’s presence helped, and she was right – the hogs did have a sweet tooth. After Abigail birthed their first litter of piglets, two strong sons and three healthy daughters, most resistance to him finally dissipated. He was related to the skin shifters by blood, now, and blood could be trusted.
Isaiah was a man among swine, and married to a sow – but he was in the right place for it. And as unusual an arrangement as it was, such was the blessing of liberty – it always afforded a man the opportunity to choose his own path.
witch dreams female & male pig transformation
#WeightGain #Transformation #PigGirls #PigGirl #FemalePigTransformation #FemaleTransformationStory
A Cultural Prejudice
**note in comments that I don't hate witches
Walking from the campus' theater, having just watched a live production of "The Wizard of Oz" that was skewed in a more comedic fashion, three new college friends began joking about the performance. It was then that Anna turned the conversation to the Wicked Witch, each of them chuckling and joking about how grotesque the witch was.
"I loved the huge nose they gave her, was hilariously fitting, and how she would keep slapping people with it!" Anna jested.
"I know! And it was funny how fat she was, waddling around the stage, trying to look menacing!" Chloe added, fondly remembering the comedy they had just witnessed.
The deceptively youthful witch wore a flabbergasted look upon her face, unbelieving what she had just heard, how dare they insult witches in such a manner! She quickly turned and faced the trio, her stony white hair whipping with her fast movement. The three strangers curled faces adorned with laughter, until each was startled by the woman's quick movement in their direction. An expression of ferocity boiled up in the witch's sharp features, the joking nature society had now placed on her kind had finally pushed her over the edge. Scowling at each of the three, she quickly analyzed each of them, searching for the most fitting punishments. First pointing a finger upon the young man and woman she angrily declared;
"You two, you're nothing but pigs, fat, squealing beasts." Turning her gaze to the last of the three, a petite young red-headed woman she concluded; "And you, you'll find yourself becoming as plump and bulbous as the both of them… combined!"
With that the witch turned and left them with; "Enjoy your new forms, you disgusting humans." The witch storming off from them in a hastened pace, borne from a blinding anger. The trio stood in shock, somewhat confused about what just happened. Though, in additions to this confusion each of them felt an odd tingling dissipating through their fit, youthful forms, leaving them with somewhat nervous feelings about the witch's promise, though they would not admit believing in such a thing out loud. The three new acquaintances looked at each other, unsure of what to say. The trim redhead tried to brush it off;
"Okay guys, well that was weird." Chloe chuckled, somewhat nervously, "If you want help with that project later just text me, I'll be in tonight studying anyway."
"Thanks Chloe, was nice meeting you." replied Anna.
With that, Chloe gave a nervous smile and turned and hurried off, being careful to be sure the "witch" she apparently was going to be walking in the same direction as was not going to be too close. The dark-haired girl, Anna, nervously smoothed out her modest v-neck blouse over her stomach, in turn pulling the neck of her shirt done a bit, revealing just the slightest of her ample cleavage to Tyler for a brief moment. Anna was an attractive young woman who had become a bit curvier in her college years, though hardly what one could consider chubby.
"Well I guess I should get started on that project, think I had enough fun for one night." She said to Tyler as she started to head to the library on the Friday evening.
Seizing at an opportunity, Tyler retorted "Maybe I should come with you, ya probably don't want to be "poofing" into a pig on your lonesome do ya?" Tyler joked. Managing to earn a smile from Anna, she turned and agreed in jest; "Yeah, gonna need a strong boar to protect me from those hordes of witches. Come on, I guess a second set of hands could speed up this research a bit." With that the two of them started off over an artsy-looking bridge, heading towards the library.
Coming back to Anna's secluded desk in an already empty library, after retrieving a few books he found her eating a sweet roll, the rest of the bag sitting next to her. Anna looked up from her bun, sensing a look of judgment from Tyler.
"Shaddup, I'm hungry, and it's all I could find in a hurry." Tyler smirked, dropping the pile of books on the desk with a thump, followed by a couple large bags of skittles and m&ms. When Anna noticed this, she chuckled. "Just look at us pigs." she said jokingly, the idea still dancing in the back of her mind, causing her to shoot a sneaky glance down at her belly, questioning if it looked a little more plump than usual. She dismissed this thought as paranoia, instead choosing to distract herself with the research project.
For about an hour the two college students sat in relative quiet, pouring over their respective research tools, every now and again passing their notes or findings to one another, joking about their professor and picking at their snacks. After being buried in his book for a while Tyler looked up at Anna as she intently scrolled through an article search, a puzzling look etching upon his face as he swore Anna looked a little more "puffy" than she had just a short time earlier, not to mention a bit of her cleavage was now plainly visible through her v-neck. His mind starting to swirl with speculation, he shortly began to lose focus and found himself becoming quite aroused at the sight of Anna. Before he could become too lost, Anna turned in her chair and questioned Tyler about an area of the project, breaking him from his trance. Seeing that Tyler was unfocussed and not even studying the material, she playfully scorned him.
"You're reading about witchcraft? C'mon Tyler, she was just some hippy girl who dropped a bit too much acid today, forget about her. I've gotta go to the whizz palace anyway, you better be looking in the right book when I get back."
With that, Anna stood up, slightly unsteadily, smoothed her shirt over her stomach, and quickly headed off towards the bathroom. Waiting a moment, Tyler turned and stole a glance at Anna as she walked off, just missing a good look at her as she disappeared around the corner. Tyler sat, considering what he thought might be happening, popping a few skittles into his mouth. Not considering it until now, Tyler took a glance down at himself. Almost as soon as he saw it with his own eyes he just noticed how his clothes felt tighter. He wasn't imagining things, Anna getting bigger was not an illusion! Considering that he too certainly had gotten a fair bit chubbier than he had been earlier. Confusion and fear beginning to addle his mind, he quickly looked around to be sure no one could see him, then stood up from his sitting place of the last hour. In doing so his shirt rode up a bit, exposing some of his rounding belly. Tyler quickly turned and looked at his reflection in the darkened sixth story window, now realizing that he too looked a bit "puffy" all over, not just his belly looked fattened up, but his chest pushed at his shirt chubbily, his butt tight in the seat of his jeans, soft love handles easing out his sides and his face more full and rounded.
Managing to recover a bit from what he had just seen of himself, he thought of how this could be fixed. Surely this white-haired "hippy" was indeed a witch, and curses or spells could be reversed, right? Sitting his now larger butt down in his chair Tyler began frantically paging through his book on witchcraft, looking for a way to reverse what was happening to them. Lost in his determination for some time, Tyler then reached a moment of clarity, where was Anna? She had been in the bathroom for nearly a half hour. Just as he was considering going and checking on her heard a sniffle come from behind him. Turning in his chair, Anna stood before him.
"Okay, I think I've gotten fatter." was all Anna managed to say, obviously coming down from being a bit shocked herself, as she looked at Tyler with shaky eyes.
Before he replied Tyler instinctively took a good look over Anna's body, she had grown even more than he remembered. Her belly now clearly distended and large, the bottom of her round belly hung from her shirt, her enlarged belly button clearly visible through her dark blue top. Anna's breasts now swollen and heavy, clearly overflowing from her bra, her cleavage now very much on display. His eyes shifted downwards, her thighs and fattening hips bulging within the material of her heather grey leggings, looking closer with an increasingly instinctual drive, he thought he could just make out the definition of her swollen vulva when his focus was broken.
"Tyler, what's happening to us? That girl couldn't have actually been a witch, there's no way we're turning into pigs, this is just some weird food reaction, isn't it?" Anna proclaimed, seemingly not even convinced by her own words.
Tyler looked up at Anna's face, it too looking a fair bit fatter, a double chin just staring to develop under her rounding face. "I don't think so Anna. I fear this is all too real, some strange force is changing our bodies, and we have to stop it."
Anna sat down, disliking the creaking sound the chair now made when taking on her increased weight, she must have gained over thirty pounds just this evening, she thought. She and Tyler talked for a bit, meanwhile each of them becoming paranoid of their bodies, each occasionally swearing their clothes had gotten just a bit tighter, or a new jiggle was noticed here or there. Once delving into the books on witchcraft more they realized they themselves could not reverse the spell, they must get the one who cast it upon them to reverse it, additionally, Anna noticed a clause to this;
"Only before a transmogrifying spell has been consummated can the spell be hoped to be reversed. Once consummated the spell will take permanence, and those affected will become lost forever to their new forms."
"Consummated?" Anna thought out loud, her usually sharp mind for some reason taking longer to process this bit of simple information.
Then it hit her; "Oh…" Anna quickly looked at Tyler, her face flushing red as carnal thoughts of him crept inwards after the realization. Though Anna could see Tyler was thinking of something similar as it took him a moment to realize Anna was looking at him, he broke his gaze away from her increasingly curvy body and cleared his throat.
"Erm, what's that now?" Tyler clearly having lost focus on the issue at hand, the animalistic desires starting to strengthen their hold over him.
"It's nothing." Anna said, nervously as she forced herself to look away from the bulge pressing against the front of Tyler's jeans. "We just need to find this witch." Clearly still a little fuzzy from his recent daydream it took Tyler a moment to respond; "… and how do we do that?".
In that moment in dawned on Anna, "Chloe! She had to walk in the same direction as that witch when she went home, maybe Chloe saw where the witch went, or lives." Tyler lit up a bit when this good news registered with him, "Nice! Text her, let's get over to her place and figure this out, don't think this shirt's gonna stay on me much longer." Tyler tried to joke, though it was somewhat clear that he was nervous about his changing body.
A little while after the the text was sent to Chloe, under the guise of wanting help with the project, they heard no response. It was then that Anna decided to follow that text with a bit more honesty, it read; "Chloe, something is happening to us. Help." In a minute's time she received a response, simply of Chloe's address. "Shit." Anna declared, having to clear her throat a bit. "I wonder what's happening to Chloe?"
Anna and Tyler packed their things, when Anna noticed Tyler's attention was momentarily elsewhere she seized the opportunity to eat those m&ms and skittles that had been mocking her for the past two hours, she was so hungry. Almost in a frenzy, Anna scooped up two big handfuls of the candy, being indiscriminate, not caring to mix the two as she shoved them in her mouth. She had already swallowed quite a bit before Tyler turned and noticed her, at which point she froze, quite embarrassed by her piggish behavior. Acting as though he didn't see anything, as to avoid further embarrassing the poor, chubby Anna. Tyler stood from his chair; "C'mon, let's get out of here." he said beckoning to Anna as she finished chewing. Anna shakily got to her feet, feeling awkward as her weight and center of gravity were far different than they had been even an hour ago. Looking down at herself, feeling her new double chin fold and squish as she did so, her body had got even fatter, her larger breasts blocking much of her view, but not enough to see that her shirt didn't even cover her belly button anymore.
"Ohhh, Tyler, I'm so fat!" she mewled as she adjusted her ill-fitting bra over her misshaping breasts. Tyler placed an arm around her now thicker, slightly hunching back, which managed to keep her from breaking into tears, and they walked from the library, though somewhat more laboriously as they did when they arrived two hours ago.
"This is it." Anna grunted as she looked up from her sizable burrito she was currently enjoying a bit too much, despite being her second in the past fifteen minutes. "This is Chloe's house." Looking down at her phone, Anna was just about to let Chloe know they had arrived when a text from Chloe popped onto her screen. "Come inside" it read. Reading the text to Tyler as she shot him an uncertain look, noticing how much fatter Tyler had gotten, his fat belly quite visible as his shirt had ridden up quite a bit, small tears beginning to form here and there. While inspecting her new friend Anna noticed a course fuzz had spouted from Tyler's body, which seemed to glow like an aura under the dim, yellow street lamps lining the road that sat on the edge of campus.
"Well, c'mon let's get to it." said Tyler as her reached to take Anna's free hand, each of their hands swollen with fat, and oddly stiff as they clasped with each other.
Tyler knocked on Chloe's door with his chubby fist, feeling bits of his growing body jiggle from the action, which only served to unsettle him that much more. Within a few moments the deadbolt clicked, and the door cracked open, the redhead's eyes peeked from the gap from within the darkened house, Tyler and Anna having a hard time picking out any changes in the cute redhead. "Hey guys" Chloe said meekly, her voice sounding slightly deeper than before as her eyes slid over her two fattening acquaintances. "Come on in, I think we should talk."
Tyler and Anna pushed the door open as they made there way into Chloe's dark home as they each struggled to see what had been happening to Chloe, though, in the darkness it proved difficult. One they had reached a back room for a moment the three stopped and stood in silence, Chloe having some difficulty deciding how to proceed.Once gathering up some courage Chloe broke the unsettling silence. "Guys, something weird has been happening to me too, I think that girl really was a witch." With that, Chloe mustered the courage to flick on the room's lamp.
Before them no longer stood the cute, trim redheaded girl, that girl had long since passed, possibly swallowed by the behemoth that stood before them. Chloe's body had apparently outgrown the ripped clothing that lay scattered throughout the room, she was now stuffed into a pair of Kansas State sweats. Despite the sweat's elasticity Chloe's body bulged at every bit of material, fat thighs squeezing outwards from her widening hips, Chloe's belly hanging heavy from the once-baggy sweatshirt, riding up hard, Chloe's breasts now massive, straining at the material, having grown into a pleasing roundness that could clearly be seen through the undersized top. Chloe's arms sitting extremely tight in her sleeves, the wildly obese girl began to sob at having revealed herself to her equally fat friends, her body clearly jiggling from the crying.
"Oh, my girl, it's okay. We'll figure this thing out." Anna said soothingly as she moved in to hug the fattening girl, some awkwardness being found as their fat bodies and breasts squished against one another's, each finding difficulty to reach their own chubby arms around the other's growing body.
Tyler watched as the two unusually chubby girls embraced, somewhat ashamed that he was feeling rather turned on by their chubbiness, an embarrassing bulge beginning to form in his jeans. Briefly, he considered turning away but he was almost memorized by their interlocking fatness, how their bodies squished into each other, Chloe's enormous breasts dominating over Anna's sagging mammaries. With some effort Anna turned her thick neck to see the mesmerized Tyler, the bulge in his pants clearly visible, inciting the ideas of "consummation" within Anna once again, her face flushing as she began to realize how much she wanted it now. Breaking herself from this dampening spell, Anna looked to get back on track and end these changes before they went too far.
"So Chloe, we think we can fix this." noted Anna, noticing her voice sounded a bit deeper as well, as she let go of her plumping friend.
"H…how?" asked Chloe, as she dried her eyes with one of her tightening sleeves.
"We have to find that witch, only she can turn us back. We have to apologize to her, let her know this is all some misunderstanding." grunted Anna, her tongue feeling thicker, less dextrous.
"Right, well let's get going, I don't want to get much bigger if I don't have to." Replied Chloe, filling with determination as she heavily made her way to the door. Stopping at the doorway, Chloe noticed her two pals were not following. Turning, she looked to Tyler and Anna, who stood in their places. Noticing a strange look upon their faces Chloe inquired as to what was the matter. Not receiving a response from here friends she started towards them. Just then, with a loud groan Tyler grabbed his stomach in pain, Chloe's eyes darted to Anna as she began groaning as well.
"Guys, what's wrong?!" Chloe asked, becoming frightened.
Chloe's question was shortly answered, though not with words, first Tyler began rapidly growing larger, his already strained clothes beginning to tear away here and there, accompanied by loud ripping and pops as the material and stitches gave way to the swelling folds of fat. Then it hit Anna, she too blowing up considerably, she pulled at her overly strained blouse with her thickening hands, tearing it free from expanding body, revealing to the world the rows of teats that she had been hiding since they left the library. Pudge was piling on the two college students at an alarming rate, Anna gasped as she felt her brassiere digging deep into her soft, hot flesh, beginning to cause some constriction to her ragged, labored breathing. Anna reached back with her thickening arms, fumbling to undo the bra's clasp with her dumbing hands, but before she could her barreling torso did the work for her, the clasp snapping with a tremendous force, the bra doing nothing to support Anna's now exposed breasts. Anna looked down, snorting in embarrassment once she saw her body, her once full, round tits that men had fawned over now resembled little more than swollen pig's teats, now just chubby versions of the ones that were growing in size down her belly.
Anna's self pity was cut short when she heard Tyler let loose a shrill squeal, looking up she could see his pants tearing from his thickening thighs, the jeans loosening, dropping into a pile around his feet. Anna tore her eyes away from Tyler's bulging genitalia from within his now skin-tight boxers as she noticed the sensation of her own legs bulking up. Grateful she had chose to wear leggings today Anna watched as her own legs swelled with fat, the stretchy material easily accommodating the growing girl's fat thighs. Feeling the sensations beginning to die down, Anna's heart fluttered in relief, thankful that she wasn't about to fully devolve, not now, not before finding this witch and making things right with her.
Chloe stared, flabbergasted at what she just saw, sure. when Tyler and Anna arrived a short time ago they were quite chubby versions of themselves, but now, now they had gone through some rather serious changes, changes that only served to ignite a deepening fear in Chloe's chubby heart. Tyler and Anna's recent growth spurt had not only increased their girth, but left them much less human, the both of them now adorned with a number of pig-like features; their limbs seeming, shorter, stockier, their faces swollen and saggy, tusks beginning to poke from their mouths, noses beginning to upturn, nostrils flaring with each labored breath, their ears poked from their hair, the ends lengthened and becoming pointy. Chloe then looked to Tyler, his body had sprouted course, translucent hairs all over, his boxers doing little to conceal his changing genitals, his balls larger, straining against the green material, and a pig's sheath creeping out of his waistband, stopping just short of his navel, completely concealing his changing penis within, like some kind of morbid chrysalis.
Turning her attention to Anna, Chloe noticed Anna's body had now taken a sharp turn for the porcine, her mammaries clearly no longer human, all eight of them, the fat Anna had been putting on no longer held the heavy feminine curves Anna had arrived with but now Anna's body had barreled out, even her rolls had been absorbed into Anna's rounding torso. Behind her, Anna's butt had lost its feminine plumpness, now oddly small and flat considering the rest of Anna's swollen body. Trying to maintain some modesty, despite what just happened, Anna clutched what was left of her breasts in her hoof-like hands. "Oh my God, we really are turning into pigs. The witch didn't just mean we'd get fat." Anna grunted in disbelief, turning her gaze to Chloe, her look clearly asking why Chloe wasn't turning too.
Almost being beckoned by the look Anna gave, Chloe began feeling odd, a strange tingling spread through her body, Chloe's heart sinking as she feared what was coming, she did not want to become a pig too, her friends looked so gross. Then, quickly a weird squishing feeling began blossoming throughout her body, firstly beginning in her rear. Chloe likened the feeling to something like chunky jello squeezing through too small an opening as her butt began to inflate with cellulite behind her, tightening her sweats even more. Momentarily loosing her balance from the rapid weight displacement, Chloe wobbled in place, finding purchase once her thighs followed in the same manner, pressing ever more tightly to her grey sweats, Chloe's hips widening with a pop to accommodate her massive thighs. Then, to Chloe's disgust, her pubic area began following suit, getting so bulbous and round, sitting in a fat paunch above the girl's groin, straining the lap of her pants. Feeling as though the changes had stopped Chloe looked up to her fat friends, embarrassed by the pear shape she was taking. Though the changes did not abate for long, Chloe shook hard as a chill ran through her plumping form, feeling her body jiggle all over, her belly and torso began to expand quickly with mass amounts of fat, her arms being pushed outwards as heavy folds of fat formed beneath her fattening upper arms, Chloe's grey sweat top being pushed upwards as her belly could no longer fit beneath the already stretched material. Her top coming to a rest just beneath her inflating breasts, acting as a makeshift bra for her heavy, bowling ball-sized breasts. The crescendo of this horrible act came when the look of fear on Chloe's face became accentuated by a thick double chin and inflating, but sagging cheeks, her entire face thickening into the visage of an obese young woman.
The three, now unrecognizable college students stood in silence for a moment, their terrifying predicament washing over each of them, feelings of hopeless came as they felt like strangers in their own bodies. Anna, getting her wits about her, took charge of the situation. "Okay, we need to get moving. *Squeal* But first, *snort* we're gonna need some clothes." Snorted Anna, talking was becoming an issue, seeming as though she was grunting as often as producing human speech. Chloe, still reeling, gathered herself enough to reply with a nod, snorting back her own tears, at least in a more human manner than her pals.
Making their way out into the night, each of the sweats-clad college fatties wobbled through the front door, Chloe having to squeeze through the door's opening, her widened and fat hips not doing her any favors. "This way." Chloe announced, taking lead, still wearing the same ill-fitting sweats she had on before. Much of her swollen body exposed to the night's air, Chloe somewhat envied her piggy friends, for at least only bits of their fat bodies shone through their tightened sweats, whereas Chloe felt like she was on fully display, body and breasts bouncing with each laborious step. As the group almost comically wobbled down the quiet streets Chloe could feel her sweats tearing, notably between her thick thighs as cool air would periodically rush in around her nethers. Anna, having lost much of her butt, found herself continually having to pull up her heather-grey leggings, a task that wasn't becoming any easier as her hands lost their dexterity. Each time pulling them up presented Tyler with a nice, chubby camel toe, illuminated under the street lamps. Only passing a few others while waddling towards their hoped salvation, they were each time almost certainly met with either gaping stares, snide passing remarks, or a quiet snickering. Each of the plumped students glowing red in embarrassment, though they were somewhat thankful that they would not be recognized by anyone, considering how much they've changed over the past few hours.
Chloe stopped in her tracks in front of an unassuming, victorian house, that seemed surprisingly well-lit for this perceived "dark witch". Gulping down her fear, after hearing Tyler and Anna shuffle to a stop behind her Chloe started towards the beautiful red front door. "C'mon guys." She said encouragingly to her friends, not bothering to look in their direction. Almost like the scene from a cheesy horror flick, as Chloe knocked on the front door in creaked open, opening enough for her to hear a vaguely familiar voice beckon to enter. "Come in my dears, I have been waiting for your arrival". Heart pounding in her chest, Chloe pushed open the door and stepped into the room, her friends in tow. Before her was the oddly attractive white-haired young woman, sitting in some grand throne-like chair, peculiarly facing the front door. "My my my, looks like you three have had quite the evening." The woman said with a wry smile, seemingly pleased with what she saw standing before her. "Look, we've come here to apologize. I'm very sorry if we offended you earlier, but please, don't let us be forced to live like this." Chloe begged, unsure why her friends weren't chiming in their pleas, especially the chatty Anna.
Chloe turned to face Tyler and Anna, seeing what had become of them had caused her to gasp, they both stood behind her, wildly hunched, as though they were nearly ready to plop down onto all fours, the two took turns sniffing each other, now looking far more pig than human. Some realization of what was happening managed to shine through in Anna, shaking away the instinctual tendrils that were creeping into her devolving mind, she took the opportunity to speak her peace. "Pleathhhh, *snort* hahalpmeeee *squeal*". Anna managed to grunt, before she let go of a loud fart, she and Tyler breaking into a strange mixture of stupefied laughter, squealing and grunting. Quickly, the both of them apparently forgetting what they were doing there, as they then took to groping at each other and trying to kiss with distorted, growing snouts. Anna reached down and began rubbing at Tyler's exposed sheath, wanting what was inside so badly. Chloe's fat face wore hopeless disbelief, heart sinking, their best speaker apparently just gave in to her animalistic desires. "Why certainly." The woman smiled. "I'd be happy to help you with that little issue." With that, the woman snapped her fingers.
Anna fell to the ground with a loud snort, her body bloating with piggish fat as her sweats began ripping off her barreling out torso. Trying to stand again Anna found herself locking into a quadruped position as her joints popped with their adjusting realignments. Anna's rear now propped up and facing Tyler she looked back at him, fear quickly turning to animalistic lust as her eyes shifted downward to his penis as it poked from its sheath, revealing its new, piggish shape. Anna bit what was left of her human lip as her face flushed hard, before she shuddered in a mixture of ecstasy and bodily growth as her rear end entered into a growth spurt that sought to see her misshaping butt finish its devolution into a sow's hindquarters. Tyler watched in lustful anticipation as Anna's heather grey leggings slipped down her pig legs, leaving just her overly tight, pink panties clinging to her most delicate parts. Chloe cried out in protest as she saw Tyler begin his approach to mounting his desired mate, desperate not to lose her friends to this curse. Yet Tyler cared not for the fat human's garbled noises, all that mattered now was taking this sow, making her his mate, getting his hot member into her swollen and wet pussy and filling her with his seed, and nothing could stop him now, not even the small voice in the back of his head, telling him it would be over if he did this. That small voice was not long for this world as he too thumped to all fours, eyes fixed on the swollen folds beneath the wet panties, taking his growing tusks to the material he ripped the undergarments from his mate, Anna squealing in a submissive lust. Chloe's eyes widened as she stood frozen in shock, now watching Tyler penetrate her new friend, Anna. Animalistic, vigorous rutting began between the two of them as the changes accelerated ten-fold. Color washed from Chloe's face as her two friends were rapidly replaced by two vigorously-mating, wildly fat pigs. Almost declaring their complete transition from human into animal, clothing loudly tore from the grappling pigs' bodies, a necklace broke free from the Anna pig's thick neck and their thinned hair fell to checkered floor as the two pigs were lost in their mating.
Now understanding how this situation with the mad witch was likely to unfold for her, Chloe's fight or flight response kicked into full gear, she turned her wide, green eyes to the deviously smiling witch before breaking for the front door. Yet poor Chloe was so large and cumbersome, her attempted escape appeared comically slow and ponderous as her heavy steps carried her wobbling and jiggling body towards the door. Despite the humor of it, the witch was not about to let her prey escape, as she darted from behind, shoving the excessively plump redhead from behind, easily causing Chloe to lose what little balance she maintained. Chloe heavily timbered forwards, toppling a small shelf she reached out for in hopes of finding balance, both she, the shelf and its many trinkets scattered to the ground. Laying face down, her large cleavage now exposed as her top ripped down the front from the violent fall, Chloe could hear the witch teasing her and promising a nasty end for dear Chloe as she calmly stepped around the bulbous and curvaceous redhead. Almost literally grabbing at straws Chloe sneakily snatched up a fallen trinket, one that had something of a familiar appearance to it. Of what little knowledge Chloe had of the world of the occult she had the vague sense that this particular design was that of a warding from evils, hopeless and trapped, Chloe cluing to desperation that this small, etched bronze piece could save her from a terrible fate she was hearing promised for her.
With some effort, Chloe rolled to face her adversary, the witch stood at her feet, an evil smile fixed upon her. "I see how you've been looking to your friends… in almost a motherly kind of fashion. Here, let me help you realize that, you look like you'd make an excellent mother to a couple of suckling piglets." The witch playfully threatened Chloe as she again snapped her fingers, actuating the spell. Chloe felt a tingling began spreading through her that somehow itched with a darkness, that was at least until she felt the bronze piece in her hand glowing with warmth, the dark feeling abating and the warmth taking over. The witch's face still adorned with a creepy smile, as she eagerly waited for the redhead to begin her devolution into a pig mother, though her face turned to confusion as she felt a tingling blossoming within herself. Taking her gaze from Chloe for a few moments, the witch tried to place why she felt this strange, unsettling feeling washing through her.
While the white-haired witch was distracted Chloe felt a wonderful feeling dancing within her fat form, Chloe looked down with astonishment as she could swear her large, fatty body was beginning to lose weight. Then the changes picked up pace as Chloe could clearly tell her body was rapidly losing weight, the skin tight sweats beginning to ease up their stranglehold they maintained over her fatty, curvaceous body. Yet Chloe was not the only one who felt their clothing become slackened, the witch stared flabbergasted as she noticed her own clothing becoming ill-fitting. The witch stared as she felt her bra cups lose hold on her shrinking breasts, straps slipping from her shoulder. The witch pulled her top over her head to get a better look at what was happening to her, now standing in just a too-large brassiere and loosening pants the witch looked to Chloe, seeing the bronze totem clutched in the redhead's thinning hand. Seeing Chloe now only slightly chubbier than she was at the theater, the witch understood the situation, her spell had been warded and her evils turned back on her! "You fool!" the witch scolded the trimming redhead as she began to move towards Chloe, in an effort to remove the totem from the prey-turned-aggressor. Yet before she reached the girl she noticed Chloe's legs began to tremble, driven by an unknown force Chloe pulled her much-too-loose sweats and panties from her legs, exposing her vagina to the witch. Confused, the witch stopped in her tracks for a moment. A moment was all that was needed as Chloe felt an intense need to push, so she did so, and was met with an explosive surprise. Both Chloe and the witch's eyes popped wide as a tentacle-like umbilical cord shot from Chloe's sex and latched onto the witch's exposed navel.
The shocked witch looked from the equally surprised Chloe and down to her stomach where the strange growth had attached itself firmly. The witch pulled hard in panicked and desperate attempts to remove the cord from her. Though her efforts proved fruitless as she could feel the cord fixing itself in place, attaching to her as would an umbilical cord to a baby. Chloe and the witch's body's now linked, the two of them trembled and groaned in unison as their bodies synched with one another. The wide-eyed Chloe watched as the witch continued to shrink, gently easing herself to the floor as the witch rapidly grew younger. Feeling this, the witch tried to grasp for a way out of her humbling predicament as she felt herself regressing more than just in age, her thoughts becoming more juvenile by the passing seconds. Chloe could feel the cord pulling the regressing witch closer as she grew smaller and smaller, the witch's efforts to resist growing less and less motivated, as she found it harder to care as she began to notice feelings of emotional attachment to Chloe. As the witch grew smaller her features too began changing to match Chloe's her white hair shifting to a vibrant red, freckles adorning her paling skin. For several minutes Chloe watched in a strange amazement as the witch progressively became younger and more similar to her new mother, Chloe. As the regressing witch drew nearer and nearer to Chloe's vagina, Chloe too began to feel emotional attachment to her new daughter, who was becoming rather infantile, at which point Chloe then noticed a pressure in her own breasts as milk began filling them, once again inflating them in size, them pressing gently against her now baggy sweatshirt. The spell nearing completion, in one quick and strangely painless motion Chloe's daughter was pulled inside her, Chloe's belly growing large, then shrinking down somewhat as her new pregnancy regressed into just a few months from her new due date, the spell firmly stopping there.
The witch now sealed inside her new mother, she was now being changed at the most fundamental of levels, her very being was now being rewritten to reflect a true daughter of Chloe. Chloe worked herself to her feet, hand on her pregnant belly, she now was very much back to her old self, except the obvious pregnant belly and a bit of extra plumpness brought on by her pregnant hormone shift. Chloe stood in the witch's home, wearing just a stretched-out KSU sweatshirt, while a pair of pigs continued to loudly rut in the background. Looking from her permanently-pigged friends with some pity, despite how much they seemed to be enjoying themselves, Chloe rubbed her distended belly. "Well, this is going to be hard to explain to my boyfriend."
Tyler begins to devolve much quicker, Anna & him sex, Anna reluctant, Chloe intervenes, stops when she begins inflating into a blueberry/ball of fat.
The 3 of them head out, movement's becoming more and more laborious, drawing odd looks and ridicule, make it to witch's home, pleased to see them, speeds up Anna & Tyler (or just Ty) they sex, lose themselves, Chloe appalled, frightened, tries to flee, witch attempts to finish off Chloe (or turn into pumpkin/fruit) Chloe gets lucky, causes spell to backfire (Deny the Witch), witch gets sucked into/grows into Chloe/ witch grows just as fat, becomes male/is fucked/ witch changes place with Chloe, Chloe becomes a dark witch/, Chloe turns full fatty, brainwashed into fat woman, Chloe shoots umbilical cord into witch's belly, witch shrinks, sucked into Chloe becomes preggard/regresses completely to early pregnancy/moment of fertilization.
Dark Cousin female cow transformation
#WeightGain #Transformation #PigGirls #PigGirl #FemaleTransformationStory
"Come on, Amanda, in here..." Becky said leading her friend into the milking barn. The two had been friends since middle school, and now, after graduation, they were having a summer of relaxation at Becky's Aunt and Uncle's farm, before they began college in fall. "Alright, alright! I'm coming," The bright blue eyed blonde said as she followed her friend, "What so great about this place anyway? I'd rather be at the pool today..." "I know, I know, you want to hang out with Captain Cutie. We can go after," Becky opened the door, but Amanda stopped before stepping inside. "His name is Ethan, and he's a life guard..." "I'm just yanking your chain Amanda! Just go inside, okay?" Amanda rolled her eyes and stepped the dark building, the only light creeping in around the gaps near eves, "Okay, so we're in the dark? Whoop di do." "I'll get the lights in a sec..." Amanda folded her arms and waited. She couldn't imagine what her friend found in this place that was so interesting. Brunette and dark-eyed, Becky was just as beautiful as Amanda and got plenty of attention from the boys at the pool. That was a million times better than... "OW!!! What the hell was that!!!" Amanda shrieked when she felt the heavy gauge needle pierce her arm at the bicep, "What the fuck?!?" She heard Becky giggle in the dark, "What the fuck did you do to me?!" "I gave you you're treatment, he he, here I'll get the lights now. We're going to want to see this!" "What do you mean treatment?!?!" Amanda screamed, her arm throbbed and the rest of her body began feeling hot, particularly her breasts and groin, "Did you just put some kind of fucked up cow medicine in me?" Becky had odd sense of humor that Amanda often had to tolerate, but this was ridiculous. She turned around when with a loud click, Becky turned the lights on. She saw her friend standing by the circuit breakers, an enormous grin on her face. "You might call it that," Becky said as she came to her friend, "There more too it, but... hmm, were getting results, awesome!” “What are you talking about? Hey! Stop that!” Amanda protested when her friend began tugging at her cut off shorts. It was getting hard to think straight, she was hot, and her breasts were beginning to ache. “I wanna see your tail, silly,” Becky said with a giggle. “A tail! What... what did you do to me?!?!” Amanda twisted around, seeing and feeling that her friend was not lying, in Becky's hand was a tail. Her tail!!! It had pushed over the top of her cut off shorts and the bikini bottom she wore today, fulling expecting to go to the pool today. But was becoming clear that flirting with Ethan would not be on the day's agenda. “Oh, this is going to be fun!” Becky said as she slinked in front of Amanda, “You'll get to live out here on the farm for the rest of your life...” Becky stopped and squeezed Amanda's plump breast that was now straining against her bikini top, making Amanda grown, it was painful and pleasurable at the same time, “Pumping out milk and babies...” “What are you talking about Becky? Uhhh, please stop!” “Uncle Miles and Aunt Bettie will take great care of you, and I'll visit every chance I get,” Becky leaned in close, nearly nose to nose, pushing her small, perky, bikini clad breasts against Amanda's swollen, bulging breasts. “Please....” Amanda said, both terrified and increasingly horny, “Please just stop Becky, this... this isn't like you!” “Isn't it? We've played around together, what's a little more?” Becky kissed Amanda on the lips, pushing her tongue into her mouth. Amanda barely noticed her friend untying her bikini stings. Amanda was finally able to speak when Becky pulled away, “That's not what I meant! What's happening to me?!?!” Becky tossed the flimsy bikini to the side, Amanda's now enormous tits now sagged, heavily laden with with the farm's precious commodity. Her nipples were a good two inches long now, and thick, a drop of off-white, creamy milk at the tips. “Mmmaaake it stop, Becky please!” Amanda cried out, tears running down her bulging face. Her lips were becoming thick and dark., “Mmmmmuhhhh!!! There's sooooooo heavy! And fuuuuullll!” Amanda lifted the hefty orbs in her stiffening hands, “Pleeeeeeease! I-I thought weeee weeeere friends!!!” Amanda's body cracked and creaked as she gained mass, her ass swelling tight against the bikini bottoms. “But we are!” Becky said, bring over a large stainless steel bottle with gauges, as well as hoses. Amanda was no farmer, but she knew what it was! A milking machine! “That's why your here! You'll love it! All the other girls did... and the boys...” She set the machine up, and Amanda could her the sucking noise. “Others?” Amanda said as Becky brought the nozzles to her. She couldn't! But they were so full, and heavy... Her breasts were massively swollen, sagging lower and lower. They were changing color too, a light pink with the blue veins. “Of, course,” Becky cradled one of Amanda's enormous boobs, “The family's been doing this for generations. Most of the animals here are like you... once humans!” “NO!!” This was a huge farm! At least a hundred cows, a dozen horses, goats, sheep, pigs! Even the fucking llama?!? “Muhhhhh!” Amanda groaned when Becky put the nozzle on her left tit, the milk immediately shooting into the machine. It felt so good! The relief! More pleasure washed over her when Becky started the suction on the other massively swollen nipple. “MUUUHHHH MMMOOOOOO!!!” It was getting hard to stand up now, or even think for that matter. With a clump! Amanda fell to all fours, her fingers finally ready for the task. “We'd better get these off!” Becky said and began tugging at the shorts. “Mmmmoooooo!” Amanda didn't care, the milk flowing from her teats was too pleasurable. “Good girl, that's it, grow those new teats, cows have four you know...” “Mooooo...” Becky pulled off Amanda's bikini bottoms to find her friend's huge vulva wet and inflamed, “Ohhh, looks like you're ready for Big John the bull, but until then...” Becky pushed her hand into her friend, teasing her massive clit, “Maahhoooooo!!!” Amanda mooed and kicked the ground, hardly able to contain herself. “Good girl, good girl...” Becky cooed as her friend continued to change. Light chestnut colored fur began cover her, Guernsey cow body. Her once perfect human breasts had now merged into one giant bag, positioning themselves between her legs. Two new, four inch long nipples rapidly grew in and filled with milk. Becky pulled her hand out and lowered herself before suckling from one of the free nipples. . “Moooo...” Amanda didn't understand what was happening but she liked it.
Backpacking to the Barnyard by SketchySeraph female Horse, Cow, and Pig
#WeightGain #Transformation #PigGirls #PigGirl #FemalePigTransformation #FemaleTransformationStory
Kathleen, Nadia, and Daniela were three backpackers who hadn’t known each other existed before last week, but were already the fastest of friends. The three brunettes were all backpacking across Europe, and had happened to share the same room in a hostel.
Kathleen was the oldest of the group, one year out of law school. Back in high school, she’d been the ‘hot one’, captain of the cheer squad. Unfortunately, a little too much stress and a little too little sleep in high school had left her with a little more weight than she’d have liked.
Even so, she was still overtly attractive, with shapely hips and a rather large ass-though she wasn’t fond of people commenting on such. The paralegal tended to be rather sarcastic and, according to many men she’d met since college, ‘bitchy’ on account of losing her figure. She wasn’t sure what to do with her life at the moment, much like Nadia.
Nadia had just graduated with a shining degree in sociology, and unlike Kathleen, had maintained her figure thanks to a regimen of dieting, positivity, and ‘nightly encounters’. Consequently, she was undeniably the hotter one of the group, keeping her eye shadow and ruby lipstick on almost 24/7.
She knew that the makeup accentuated her exotic features, and that whoever didn’t take a liking to her face would immediately be ensnared by her most prominent features: her huge breasts. Outgoing and energetic, she was the one who got the group together, convincing even Daniela.
Unlike her other new friends, Daniela was still in college, having planned to make the trip with her sorority sisters after their study abroad session ended. Unfortunately for her, they decided to spend an extra week in the city first, planning to humor her and show up at their last destination.
So far they were no-shows, which is why the shy girl was so glad to find some new friends. Even if they tended to tease her for hiding her curves beneath an unflattering hoodie.
Tonight the three girls found themselves in a small bar in rural Spain, wondering what they should do with the rest of their night.
“I mean, I’m not, like, saying that we shouldn’t go back to the hostel…” Nadia began, twirling a finger through her hair.
“But we definitely shouldn’t go back there. “ Kathleen chuckled, nodding sagely. “Glad to hear that I’m not the only one who was a little creeped out by those guys. Not that I mind flattery, but nobody likes to hear that they have ‘nice skin’.”
“Yeah, serial killers much? Didn’t make things better when they said that you had a nice ass, I have nice tits, and Daniela needed to show off her curves.” Nadia pointed to each of them in turn as she spoke before rolling her eye, taking a generous sip of her drink. “Sucks that they had to be staying at the same hostel as us.”
Daniela smiled softly as she looked to the women, cradling her cup of tea with both hands. “I mean… I agree with both of you.” She said, a small blush trailing across her cheeks as they looked to her. She still hadn’t gotten used to older women valuing her opinion.
“Right.” Kathleen said with a nod. “So we’re in agreement that we’ll just be on the streets for tonight. Until we come up with a better plan.”
“Or a better invitation.” A male voice spoke up from behind them, and the girls looked to find a young man smiling in their direction.
“And you are?” Kathleen asked, eyes narrowing.
“Cisco. My name is Cisco.” He patted his chest with a smile. “I happen to be a farmer around these parts, and I can assure you that I am far too busy to be a serial killer. Plus my mother would probably protest.”
“You live with your mother?”
“It’s a family farm.” Cisco shrugged. “I realize that you Americans might not always think that living at home is a good decision, but out here it is the only decision. Plus, if it helps, you’ll only need to work for us in the morning; no other pay is necessary.”
“And in return, we get…” Nadia arched an eyebrow, grinning nonetheless. She was already sold; she just needed the others to agree.
“Full lodgings, heated rooms, and a home cooked meal from my mother. And say what you will about her personal manners, she is an excellent chef.” Cisco spread his arms wide, beaming innocently. “So, what do you say? I would love to have the extra help tomorrow morning.”
“And that’s what you get out of this.” Kathleen said with a smirk. “A little easy labor, and all you have to do is recruit us? Sounds like a good deal.”
“The best.” Cisco nodded. “So, what do you say?”
Of course, they replied with a resounding ‘yes’. The farm was nice and rustic, with a complete three-course dinner seasoned with local spices that ensured they tasted exotic. After a good night’s rest, the three of them woke to find themselves a good deal more rested… Albeit a little strange.
“Not that I’m complaining about the most comfy bed yet, but… Is anyone else feeling a little off? Maybe I’m not used to luxury anymore…” Nadia chuckled, massaging her breasts. “But for some odd reason, I could swear my breasts are heavier.”
“Yeah, my ass feels big too.” Kathleen grinned back. “Maybe we had too much to eat?” She struggled to fit her slacks up her thighs, making a mental note to shave her legs at their next stop. She could have sworn that she’d had them clean-shaven just yesterday, but today they were covered in thin brown hairs.
It looked like Nadia was a little hairier too, and Daniela… Well, she’d had the most to eat of all of them, so it made sense that she looked the fullest. Kathleen nodded to her with a small smile, chuckling. “Feeling okay?”
“A little bloated… But, you know… I did enjoy that a lot more than you guys. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a home-cooked meal.” The shy girl smiled, slipping a hoodie over her body and zipping it tightly.
Before they could carry on their conversation, Cisco called to them from downstairs. “Hello! Are you ladies ready to start a day off right, doing my work for me?”
Daniela snorted with laughter at that, looking to her two friends. “Well, at least he’s honest.”
They headed downstairs to find Cisco holding a paper in both hands, looking from it to them. “So, for today my mother would like Kathleen to clean the horse stables, Nadia to milk the cows, and Daniela to feed the pigs. It shouldn’t be too hard, I’d imagine. Call me if you need help, I’ll be here.”
Daniela looked a little unsure as to splitting up, but Kathleen allayed those concerns with a casual smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll do our jobs, then meet up here. It’ll be fun.”
The paralegal repeated those words to herself sarcastically as she walked towards the stables, a hand in each of her coat pockets. Even though she’d said them well, she still wasn’t the biggest fan of physical labor. But at least it would just be using a broom, not having to get near anything too filthy. She hoped.
The brunette headed into the stables with this hope in mind, and was pleasantly surprised to see that the farm only had a single stallion. He looked to be of good size… She assumed. She didn’t really know horses, but he had to be healthy if he was this farm’s only one.
With a hum, she set to work, doing her best not to focus on how the horse seemed to be following her with its eyes. The girl grabbed a broom from by the door, using it to push out the straw that had cluttered around the floor, as well as some scraps of rags that looked like they could have once been clothing.
The thought of clothing led the girl to reflect on how uncomfortable she felt in her pants, and clothes in general. It wasn’t just like they were tight; they just felt… Wrong. It was like all of them were backwards, or inside-out. They didn’t hurt to wear, or even feel that uncomfortable. But something in her, something instinctive, protested the fact that she was wearing them nonetheless.
“Well, I suppose it could be worse. At least the food was good.” Kathleen chuckled, bringing her elbow back to push another load of straw into a pile.
A solid impact at her elbow made her freeze in place, and the sound of clattering iron elicited an oath that would make a sailor blush. “Great, just what I needed.” The brunette scowled as she looked behind herself, seeing a pile of fallen horseshoes. “But at least nothing’s broken.”
The girl squatted down to pick them up, only for the sound of tearing cloth to fill the air-and for her pants to suddenly loosen on her legs. She blushed madly and looked behind herself, patting at her pants to confirm if the impossible had really happened. Sure enough, there was a large hole right between the plump cheeks of her ass.
“So much for notheiiing being broken. Then again, it goes give mhneee a vuheeeighw.” A half-whinnied voice spoke up from behind Kathleen, and she turned in shock to find the stallion staring at her with something that she’d almost call mirth.
“Nope.” The paralegal said, shaking her head. “I’m not buying it. No way, no how. Come on out, whoever’s doing the Mr. Ed impression; because I refuse to believe that there’s a magical talking horse.”
“Phhbbt. Really, now?” The horse chuffed as it spoke, and this time Kathleen could see his lips move, tongue work to create that approximation of English. She wanted to believe it was a trick, but the anxiety that had begun with the tearing of her pants was now threating to overwhelm her.
“Nuhuhuh… MNuhEEIGH way!” Kathleen’s head jerked forward as a loud whinny erupted from her lips mid-sentence, and she found her panic increasing only tenfold.
“Wuhheigh. I’m Derek, by the wgnay. One of the guhuhhuys from your hostel. Wuheee went to this farm on an offer for a fuhreeigh meal, but it ended up with… Well, you suheiigh.” The horse flicked an ear, rolling its eyes in a manner that was far too human for Kathleen’s liking.
The he nodded his head appreciatively towards her ass. “Bugghnyy the way, your ass looked great before as a human. But hgnny can’t wait to see what it looks lgnyyyke as a horse butt.”
Kathleen whimpered at his words, unable to believe what he was saying. But the gurgling in her belly was only getting stronger; the funny feeling in her body getting that much worse. She groaned as she felt her frame begin to expand, torso thickening and ass swelling further, widening the hole in her pants further.
It was like all of her worst fears of her body made real, her nightmares of growing out of her clothing coming to life. “NUHEEEGIH! Don’t LUHEEEIGH-look!” She whinnied frantically, trying to cover herself as her clothes got even tighter on her, threatening to split at the seams.
“Why not? You’re suhuhsexy.” Derek nickered after he spoke, watching with even more interest as Kathleen’s hands twisted into hooves; her feet exploding from her shoes seconds later.
Kathleen hyperventilated in response, animalistic grunts and nickers slipping into her every word. She pawed at her clothes feebly with her hooves, whimpering loudly as just how numb they were. “Not a horse! NuhuhuhEIGHot a horse!”
Despite her fears, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement at the prospect of shedding her uncomfortable clothes. They were tight and restrictive, after all…
She shook her head, whimpering a little louder as she realized that the motion caused her ears to actually sway, a motion that she felt much more than she’d have preferred. Desperately, the girl tried to keep her mind off of the changes, even though her neck was itching madly with what could only be a mane.
There was another itching that had spread its way along her body, one that she was sure was the growth of fur and a thick hide, but Kathleen didn’t want to reflect for too long on that. Even if they meant that she wouldn’t be naked if she lost all of her clothes, which had to be worth something…
The girl grunted as her face began to extend from the rest of her head, nose and mouth stretching out into a broad muzzle. Her nostrils flared as her head got larger and larger, and her teeth felt thick and ungainly in her mouth.
It was a terrifying transformation that was soon eclipsed by the lengthening of her neck, her growing spine curving and forcing her head to angle back. This discomfort, coupled with the growing bulk on her body, was enough to force her to fall onto her hooves, a descent that made her neck’s new angle make much more sense. Even though her back was parallel with the ground, it was still somehow natural for her to look ahead.
She chuffed instinctively at the thought, wiggling her hind quarters as they grew larger and larger still, thick with both muscle and fat. Slowly but surely, she began to think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get rid of her clothes; to look just like a horse. After all, didn’t she seem more out of place in these half-torn rags?
Before the girl fully understood what she was doing, she flexed her shoulders hard, using the motion to tear her coat, shirt, and bra along her back. As though it had been waiting for this, the transformation practically tripled in pace, bulking her up further and further so that the tear she’d caused propagated fully through her clothing, almost exploding it from her body with the loud sound of ripping cloth.
It was liberating, especially since horses weren’t supposed to wear clothes. She’d never thought before just how uncomfortable clothes were to wear, but upon reflection, they were just so tight and restrictive. It was far better to be rid of them, and it looked like she wasn’t the only one in the room to feel that way.
“Sughnneee? Sexuheeeigh.” Derek snorted, pushing against the unlocked door to his stall and walking towards Kathleen. “Damn, that ass phbrbrbt is thick!” He tossed his head with another nicker, staring at her ass shamelessly.
Kathleen shook it at the compliment, grunting as a tail slipped from her spine, long hairs decorating its length. Loathe though she was to admit it, he had a point. Her ass was huge, and he did seem to appreciate it… And now that she didn’t have any clothes, it was that much easier for him to see.
Come to think of it, since he didn’t have clothes either, it was pretty easy for her to see him too… And what a sight it was! His cock was already erect, thick and throbbing with the rounded head of an equine. “Mggneigh? Looks like huhuhgnyou like it…” She egged him on, glad that he still seemed to appreciate her ass even as a horse.
“HNEEIGHll yes!” He whinnied loudly with excitement, licking his thick horse lips. “God, I just want to show you hgnow much hyy want it! Hgnyy’ll fuck you until ygneeuhuhuh-you can’t walk tomorrow, even with four luhuhegs!”
Kathleen was a poet inside, so she knew that his words weren’t entirely something to be appreciated. Then again, they were certainly getting her wetter than she’d been in her life, and she was curious what it would feel like to have the thickest cock of her life inside of her.
And if she was a complete horse too… The mare turned towards the stallion, presenting her dark, dripping horse cunt. “Wuhuhut’re you wgneeighting for, then?”
It actually took Derek a second to process that, his jaw hanging slack for a matter of moments. Then he practically galloped towards her, leaping atop her back and driving his cock deep within her. It was utterly animalistic, without any sense of human foreplay, and Kathleen loved it.
“UGNHEEEEEIGH!” The mare screamed with insensate bliss, physically quivering from how good it felt to have a cock this thick within herself. She hadn’t realized just how good it was to have a larger body to accommodate his thick length, one that was able to take his every thrust with passionate, unbridled pleasure.
Instinctively, she began to rock back and forth against Derek, feeling his hefty equine balls swatting her ass, his thick cock sliding in and out of her. There was so much for her to enjoy; so much for her to savor! She whinnied again, spittle flying from her muzzle as she began to enjoy insensate pleasure, a new world of sensation becoming hers to enjoy. Idly, she wondered if the others were enjoying this as much as she was…
Nadia wiped at her brow, doing her best to ignore the whinnying of the horses in the stable. It sounded like they were acting up, which meant Kathleen would be cleaning for a while longer.
“Maybe this isn’t the worst job…” She fanned at herself as she spoke, feeling a little hot. The girl undid two of the buttons on her shirt as she moved onto the next cow, one whose moos were beginning to sound distinctly like moans of pleasure, almost human in nature.
“Like, I didn’t even know that cows could sound like that.” She chuckled, undoing another button on her shirt as the damnable heat only grew.
“And I doodn’t know they made chick with such fat udders.” Came a low bellow dead ahead of her.
It was almost an exact mirror of what one of the guys at the hostel, Rob, had said to her; save for the fact that it now referred to udders rather than Nadia’s large bosom.
Nadia, always one to jump to conclusions, realized then and there that the only logical explanation for a talking cow was that it was once a person, perhaps even one of the men from the hostel, no less. It was a thought that was startling enough to panic her, and she knocked over the milk bucket as she backpedaled from the cow she’d been milking.
“UGNOO? MOOO! WUHOOOODDUHELL!” A torrent of moos spilled from her mouth as she stared at the bull with wide, terrified eyes.
“Oooh, yeah. We oooosed to be people.” The cow she’d been milking said in a gentle British accent, tilting her thick head. “Looocky you get to be one of us.”
If she was hoping to calm Nadia, the cow would be sorely disappointed. The girl panted hard, mooing loudly as she tried to increase her pace, backpedaling as quickly from the cows as possible.
Unfortunately, her body chose this time to make several changes known to her, the first of which being a distinct increase in body mass. It started in her belly and breasts first, eliciting a low groan and a huff from the girl, the air pushing from her lungs as her chest expanded.
“NOOOO!” She bellowed, eyes widening even as they began to darken to a deep bovine brown. “I’MOOO nOOOt a cow!”
“Well, nOOOt yet.” Rob looked to her with the bovine equivalent of a smirk as she panicked. “But sOOOn enough…”
Nadia whimpered loudly, stumbling away from the nightmare. One of the other cows got behind her, keeping her from getting too far from them. “Hey, I reckon becoMOOOng a cow is the best thing that cOOOld ever happen. YOOO’ll love the treatment, espOOOcially the milking!” Drawled the cow with a southern accent, twitching her ears.
Nadia didn’t know how to respond to that; wasn’t sure how to even comprehend it. How could being a cow be any better than being a human? Surely there had to be something wrong with these bovine’s brains! She whimpered and grunted as her breasts swelled a little more, beginning to slosh as they filled with what could only be milk.
Apparently a cow’s hearing was sensitive enough to hear that, because the southern cow spoke again, mirth filling her moo-laden words. “YOOO’ll see sOOOn enough.”
“UHMOOO!” Nadia bellowed, shaking her head desperately, even as her ears lengthened, flopping over with their increased size and weight. She didn’t want to even think it was possible to enjoy a milking, but her breasts were so full…
Soon she actually had to fight the urge to bring her hands to her breasts and milk herself, something the girl had never thought possible. It was an urge only made worse as her breasts expanded further, swelling to the point that her poor top could no longer contain them.
With the loud snapping of buttons, the shirt gave way, exposing her fat, jiggling breasts to the cool morning air. Or rather, her breast. Both of her mammaries had merged together to create a single, large tit; one whose nipples were growing, soon joined by two more.
Nadia screamed as she looked to her fat udder, falling back onto her rump and grabbing at it with both hands. To her horror and shameful delight alike, a surge of pleasure rushed through her, and the girl clutched at her developing udder harder.
It was so full, so achingly large… Subconsciously, her hands cupped at her long nipples, pinching just a thin trail of milk from each of them. Before she could succumb any further; her fingers began to ache, stiffening as flesh solidified into hard enamel.
Unfortunately, she’d already given too much of herself to her inner cow. The quick teasing of her nipples alone had left her wanting more; needing more. She grunted loudly and let out a deep low, rocking back as she pawed at her udder with need.
Her arms and legs changed as she moved, eyelids fluttering as her joints creaked and popped, limbs getting longer and longer. Her spine extended into a short tail with a tufted tip, causing her to lean a little forward. And, most notable of all, her face began to grow, bones grinding against one another as her very skull changed from something human to something utterly animal.
Her nostrils expanded on her face as she breathed in deeply through them, drinking deep of the nearby bull’s musk. It was a far cry from the tacky cologne he’d worn last night, instead acting as a potent aphrodisiac to the already addled brunette.
Without fully realizing it, she rolled onto her hooves, a small moo slipping past her lips as they thickened. Her long ears twitched and her tail swayed, listing to one side as if to expose her sex to her nearby suitor.
“YOOO know… I can’t help with the mOOOlking… But I can help yOOO with another of yOOOr urges.” Rob grunted, striding towards Nadia purposefully.
He was so large, so forceful! She breathed in heavily, feeling her body change faster and faster from his very presence alone. Her hips loudly snapped as they outright tripled in size, splitting her jeans at the waist and baring her to the bull.
By now, Nadia wasn’t sure what she wanted, knowing that she used to hate the prospect of being milked; but still desiring the feel of warm hands on her udders. She realized that just a few minutes ago, she didn’t want to join the herd; even though now she wanted nothing more than to live a life on the grass.
Yet though she didn’t fully know what she wanted, Nadia knew what she needed. She turned her fattening ass towards Rob, looking back to him with wide eyes as her forming snout grew a little larger. “Fuck mmMOOO!”
He eagerly obeyed, the desire he’d felt for her as a human now all the greater that she was a cow. The bull lifted his weight onto his hind hooves, falling heavily onto Nadia’s back and making her moan as his weight pressed onto her back.
Hot fur shot out from her pores as her eyes widened, and she bellowed with bliss as the bull drove his cock deep into her, spearing her delicate flower with his thick meat. She’d never had her pussy this full in her life, and she reveled in the new carnal sensations of having an animal cock stuffed within her, stretching her wanting canal.
Nadia moaned and mooed in turn, giving into the beast that she was becoming and spreading her changes all the faster for it. Her body bulked up, face stretched, bones broadened. Funnily enough, her makeup remained on her larger cow’s head, albeit spread thin by the growth of her head.
She parted her lipstick-highlit lips with a loud bellow, savoring how its echo resounded around the plains. This was by far the most incredible fucking she’d had in her life! She could only hope that Kathleen and Daniela were sharing the same passion!
Daniela crinkled her nose as she looked to the pile of rutting pigs, the group of them seeming to do nothing save wallow, fuck, and eat. This wasn’t close to her ideal job, but from the sounds of it, her friends were having to put up with much the same with the horses and the cows.
“Well, the sooner I get this over with…” She muttered, hefting the large barrel of slop. She took what was meant to be a ginger step into the pigpen, but her added weight threw her off balance. She used too little force when setting down her foot, and so she slipped; falling into the mud with a loud splash and a squeal of distress.
“Ew, it’s all over me!” She whimpered loudly, though she was at least grateful that more of the slop had ended in the trough than in the mud. Not that the pigs seemed to mind, some of them were already slurping up the food from the ground like the dirty animals they were.
One in particular seemed to take an interest in her, turning his head towards her. Judging from his tusks, he was a boar. And judging from the way he looked at her, he was almost intelligent.
“H-hey there, big grrnt-uy…” A snort slipped into Daniela’s words, though she didn’t notice. Instead, she was concerned for what was interesting the pig so much, hoping that it wouldn’t be anything too dirty.
“Hey. I-orrnt hope that you won’t be such a stick in thrrrnt mud anymore.” He said, tossing his ears in a fashion that uncannily reminded her of one of the creeps from the hostel.
“Matt?” She asked, eyes widening in shock. She felt a little silly for asking, but with his words and actions; how could she not? Her heart began to race in her chest as she realized that something was very amiss, and her tension was only heightened as the pig impossibly spoke once again.
“Rrrnnright in one.” He nodded.
It was too much for Daniela to bear, and she screamed in fear. “UHREEEEEE!” Both of her filthy hands shot to her mouth as she realized that the sound was more of a pig’s squeal, and she squealed again as her body started to grow.
It was like some invisible hose was pumping her full of fat, a gain in weight plain across her body that she could feel more and more of with every passing second. Desperately, the girl pawed at her tightening clothes, but in just a matter of seconds even her hoodie was too tight on her to comfortably move.
“REEEE! NoREEE! Rrrnt-rrrnt-RRRNT!” As her squeals devolved into snorts, her nose upturned on her face, developing into a pig snout one snort at a time. She could feel her perfect teeth changing as well, growing tusks forcing the others aside into a less uniform condition.
“I don’t wrrrntnna be fat and rrrntpiggEEE!” Daniela sobbed, getting even bulkier, having to fall onto her side as her limbs shortened. The nails on her fingers and toes thickened, flowing over her digits and binding them together into a set of dark trotters.
Small rips and tears began to fill the air as she floundered helplessly, sobbing with distress at how ugly she was getting. It actually seemed to unnerve the other pigs, namely Matt.
“Rrrnt-hey! Hey!” He stammered, looking at her with wide eyes. “Yurrrnt-you look really good!” If pigs could smile reassuringly, he was surely doing so; his best effort to calm the girl plain to see.
It was almost enough to calm her down… Almost. She twitched her nose and snuffled loudly, hoping that he wasn’t just saying that for flattery’ sake. “Rrrnt-EEElly?”
“Oh, yeah!” One of the other sows said encouragingly. “Orrnt! You look better and better thREEE closer you get to being a rrrnt-pig!”
“Yuuurnt!” A third chimed in, nodding eagerly.
Daniela snorted with laughter at the sight of a pig nodding like a person, farting loudly as she did so. For a moment, she froze; worrying that they’d judge her for such a blatant breach of etiquette.
Much to her relief, the lot of them seemed to find her flatulence amusing, most of them snorting and a few of them echoing the sound with gas of their own. The brief moment of calm she felt soon vanished; however, as her lengthening ears were greeted by the sound of tearing clothing.
Daniela had completely missed the rips that had signified the beginning of the end for her clothing, not noticing them until it was too late. Now, her clothing was little more than rags on her body, the cloth little match for her body’s expansion. She fully realized that this was even more alarming, given that her clothing was loose-fitting to begin with.
“Nooo! I’m sooornnt faaat!” She whined loudly, pawing at the scraps of cloth in desperation, trying to keep them on somehow. She realized that all of the pigs were staring at her, and in desperation, the girl dropped into the mud, the front of her body submerged in the filth.
“Drroink-don’t look at meeee!” She squealed, tears dewing at her eyes as her hips and shoulders popped, forcing her into a four-legged stance. At least the mud felt nice on her skin, she thought, completely missing that her smooth flesh was becoming more and more akin to a pig’s hide with every passing second.
“Whurrnt-rrnt-why not?” Matt replied, tilting his head. “You look good trrnt me.” He snorted again, as though he had no idea why Daniela would ever feel distressed about being naked in front of a sty full of pigs.
And, much to her surprise, she didn’t have an answer for the question. The girl wallowed a little more in the mud, using it to ease her nerves while she searched for an answer. She knew that it should have bothered her, something about modesty or other… But it felt so good to be covered in mud like this!
She listed slightly to the left; then to the right. Then something within her simply clicked, and she began to roll around within the mud, covering herself in it with loud squeals of pleasure. How could she not have seen that mud was so much fun? All of her life trying to remain clean now felt wasted!
The other pigs snorted at her actions with amusement, but Daniela didn’t care. Instead, she continued to roll around in the muck, only slowing her motions as some delectable scent met her piggy nostrils. Her snout twitched as she shook her head, flinging mud to the left and right in the process.
It was… The slop? Slowly, Daniela padded towards it, inhibitions melting away as she took a tentative bite. It was good! Her tail waggled as she ate another bite, then another. All the while, the girl completely failed to notice that there was some mud within the slop, let alone the fact that it consisted of gunk she’d once be hard pressed to call edible.
“Srreee? It’s norrnt all bad.” Matt snorted, padding towards Daniela, snout twitching. He took a bite of the slop himself, motioning with his head towards the other pigs, who’d begun to rut with one another rather than watch the two of them eat.
Daniela had never been one for promiscuity, but she certainly envied the way the other sows squealed as they were mounted, then penetrated by boars. Her pussy ached, and she began to feel a damp warmth by her backside.
“Fuck mrrreee.” She said lowly, under her breath at first. Her piggish ears twitched as the word left her mouth; then she turned to the boar to her right. “Now.”
It was oddly thrilling to be so direct, putting her hopes on the chance that he’d say yes. Luckily, he seemed to have just as much restraint as she did. The last word was barely out of her muzzle before he clambered atop her back, snorting loudly as he thrust deeply into her, piggish prick finding its mark with ease.
Daniela’s mouth opened in an attempt to give voice to how incredible she felt, but only a loud, echoing squeal passed her lips. “RRREEEE!” She farted as she squealed, too far gone to feel even an iota of shame.
In fact, if she felt anything regarding her new porcine form, it would have to be a delighted surprise. She’d never realized before just how good it could be to let loose all of her inhibitions, and how free it was to be fat, dirty, and smelly. Now that she was living it, it was an experience more pleasurable than any she’d had in her life.
The sow rhythmically grunted beneath her boar as he plowed her hard, her fat body jiggling with every motion. She absently buried her face in the muddy slop again, taking another mouthful and chowing down with delight. There was nothing to stop her from trying to feel as much pleasure as possible; nothing to keep her from succumbing to temptation.
Matt’s cock hit a particularly sensitive spot within her, and the girl let out a loud squeal of joyous surprise. Hearing this, he thrust there again, and again, and again. Slowly, Daniela began to even lose focus of herself, her every nerve afire with pleasure.
She rocked harder and harder against her mate, eking every iota of sinful bliss she could from this. She clenched her folds around his cock; drove back against him so his balls thumped against her fat ass; squealed her passion to the heavens.
It only took a matter of minutes to reach her limit, and she squealed loud and hard, eyes widening as she felt the onrush of orgasm. The sow’s mouth hung open as she panted raggedly, her pussy coursing arcs of pleasure through her world, driving all thought from her mind.
And, much to her delight, it didn’t seem to have an end in sight, not even when Matt grunted from behind her, shooting his load deep into her piggy womb. It was the first pig orgasm of her life, and the girl soon learned just how long porcine pleasure could last.
It was nearly half an hour before she regained her senses, finding herself a drooling, cross-eyed mess of a pig. Spent, Daniela collapsed in the mud, knowing nothing else she could do; nothing else to do. She snorted loudly, wallowing in the warm mud and loving the warm feeling of her boar on her back. There she remained, until Cisco rounded her up along with the other animals.
“Hello, ladies.” The farmer greeted the three animals with a smile, waving to them. “Now that you’ve had a few hours and a few ruttings, I formally welcome you to the farm. I trust that you’ll enjoy your stay, especially seeing as how the three who’ve recommended you for this life are enjoying theirs.”
Derek, Rob, and Matt had the decency to look slightly ashamed, though it was clear that they enjoyed the carnal fucking too much to truly complain.
“ActOOally, it’s not bad.” Nadia twitched a bovine ear, her udder swaying beneath her. She coughed some cud into her mouth to chew absently, swishing her tail with content.
Kathleen bobbed her head in agreement, cunt still warm from the torrent of horse cum she’d been filled with. She didn’t say another word, choosing instead to rub her snout against Derek’s.
“Wree do make pretty grrrood livestock.” Grunted Daniela happily, eager for the impromptu meeting to be over so she could have another spin in the mud.
Sensing her impatience, Cisco smiled. “Of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t extend the same invitation to you that I did to your new suitors. So… Tell me, do you have any suggestions for our next ‘volunteers’?
Nadia and Kathleen remained silent at that, not knowing anyone other than the locals. Daniela; however, twitched a porcine ear in amusement.
“Rrrnt-actually…” The pig began, thinking of her friends. “I know a grrrrnnt-group of girls who’d love to help…”