You get back onto your back hooves and book it as far as you could. Running on hooves was similar to running on the tips of your toes, it was a lot easier to keep running than to stop. You keep going in a straight line till you come to a fence, unable to stop you crashed right into the fence flipping over it and burying your muzzle in mud on the other side.
You groan lifting your head and find your self looking straight at a pig. The pig licks some of the mud off your face and you push it away.
Looking down you realize you were now as filthy as the pigs surrounding you you stand up trying to brush the mud off your overalls as the pigs surrounded you curiously. You kept shoving them away, this only got your hand hooves mudy as you try in vane to get your self clean. As the pigs kept coming back and rubbing them selves against you you soon felt a by now familiar tingling of a change.
You look down at your hand hooves and watch as they shrink turning from dark black to shining white. Your arms got thicker, you feel more fat being piled onto your body. Your fur begins to recede revealing smooth bright pink skin under.
Your body gets chubbier and chubbier putting an even bigger strain on the overalls that were all that separated you from your fellow classmates. Your face becomes even pudgier, your nose comming closer to your face and becoming more broad and flat fronted. Your horns fade away and the cow ears on top of your head get much bigger and turn bright pink.
The final change happens to your behind as your tail shrinks closer to your enlarged rump curling out the hole your previous tail made.
You look down at your extended belly, watching the now skin tight overalls struggling at containing all that premium pork.
You were still covered in mud, but there must’ve been a mental change mixed in because it didn’t bother you as much.
You trail your hooves down your hips, and give your bacon a nice deep squeeze feeling as your hooves were swallowed by the fat, a moan leaving your lips. Then your pig nose picks up something. You stop tenderizing your self and take in a deep whiff.
It was supper time.
You trail your hand hooves over the skin tight muddy jean material. Your loins moisten and you lick your lips.
They were serving slop, your favorite...