There in the doorway of the barn, staring you and Lyra down as you lay in the straw post-sixty-nine, is what looks like a regular farmer. A long, thick, black mustache rests under his large nose, the tips drooping down to his narrow chin. He has hard looking eyes trained on you, peering from beneath a grey cowboy hat. His expression is unreadable as he clomps towards you in his heavy steel toe boots.
You muster up a little strength to heave your heavy porcine body onto your feet and move to block Lyra from this man’s view. The farmer quickly pulls a syringe out of the pocket of his overalls, and jabs it into the side of your neck. Numbness courses through your body and you topple over in a fat, porky heap on the cold earthy ground. The last thing you see as consciousness leaves your head is the farmer attacking your classmate… no, your girlfriend? Thoughts… so… fuzzy… so…
… so…
—///—
When you come to some unknown time later, you find yourself in another unfamiliar place. Your hair is still grown over your eyes, and in fact it feels much shaggier and disheveled than before. The ground you’re laying on feels much softer, and wetter, more like loose mud than anything else. You bring yourself to stand up and try to take stock of yourself again.
Running your tongue around the inside of your mouth, you feel like it’s gotten a lot bigger, and longer, a bit more like a hog’s mouth. Your lower canines have grown into moderately bigger tusks than earlier. Your breathing feels heavy and hard, and you find yourself snort occasionally when you inhale. Your whole body feels heavier, wider, and thicker, and it’s difficult to stay standing upright, the best you can manage being a forward leaning slouch. Your hands feel like they’ve gotten a lot thicker, but at least you still have opposable thumbs. Your limbs feel like they packed on a lot more muscle, but you’re sure from the outside observer all that strength must be hidden underneath massive layers of fatty meat. Of course, speaking of massive meat, you can feel just how gigantic your dick has grown too, a thick, thigh length monster with balls like swollen grapefruits.
A deep, rumbling gurgling in your empty stomach meets your ears. Your nose instinctively sniffs at the air. Between the stench of wet hay and muddy earth, you can smell something that smells like food. Involuntary your powerful fat legs push your body forward like a lumbering lardy glacier in the direction of that smell. The aroma is a medley of things you recognize, from baked fruit to fried potatoes to hot greasy hamburgers. Your long, piggy tongue starts licking your chops subconsciously. Even though you’re a bit blinded by your overgrown hair, your nose brings you right where you need to go.
You take a moment to pause when you reach your destination, and pull your hair out of your eyes. The source of the smell, you realize, is coming from a long, deep steel trough, the kind that farms use to feed slop to the hogs. This trough is not much of an exception, except the slop it’s filled with looks a whole heck of a lot more appetizing than the stuff they give to pigs. It’s still a disorganized mishmash of food, but all of it looks like it’s made of food made and sold for humans! It’s like a buffet of every menu item at a typical fast food restaurant, burgers, fries, chicken strips, those little apple pie things, all just got dumped into the trough fresh from the fryers. To anyone else this might still be a disgusting sight, but for you, in this moment, in your condition, this is Mana of the Gods!
You let your body take over for your brain and plunge headfirst into the junk food trough. Like a mad beast, your hoggy mouth tears through the despicable meal, an insane combination of flavors on your tongue as swallow down as much as you can chew. Broiled beef patties and meaty tomato slices pair surprisingly well in the same mouthful as cinnamon sugar bites and gooey apple filling, but that might be your new piggy palate having no problem with clashing tastes. You’re snorting up a storm as you struggle to breathe through all the food you’re inhaling, but you’re so hungry right now that it’s hard to think of anything else at the moment. You’re so preoccupied with your wretched feasting that it’s not until you’re halfway through the trough when your sense of perception starts functioning properly again, just in time for your snout to suddenly meet with someone else’s snout.
You lift your head out of the now empty trough, even though you’re only half full and still hungry. You can sense the other creature doing the same even while blinded by your shaggy carpet of hair. The two of you start sniffling and snuffling each other, and you can’t help but feel like this other creature’s smell is familiar.
“L-Lyra?” you grunt out in a much deeper voice, “Is that you?”
“Yeah! Yeah it is me!” the other pig creature snorts gleefully, her own voice also much deeper, “So does that mean?”
“Uh huh,” you try to nod, “It’s me! It’s still me. I think we changed a bit more, but it seems like we can still talk and still have thumbs. Can you stand up straight at all?”
“No, not anymore,” Lyra wheezes, “It feels like my spine won’t let me stand up more than this forward slump, but at least we’re still kinda bipedal. I definitely feel way fatter than before, and now I actually have six whole boobs. Six! And they’re so huge, dude! It’s like carrying around three pairs of watermelons around. Not to mention my hair feels awful right now, all scraggly and coarse all of the sudden, and still so long. I think it’s still ginger red though, kinda hard to tell when it’s blinding me funny enough. Actually, do I still have people eyes? Could you take a look at them for me?”
You reach up to pull the hair away from your eyes so that you can get a better look at Lyra’s. Your heart jumps in your chest at the sight of her. She’s absolutely massive now, and combined with her slumped posture she looks even more monstrous than ever! Her skin has turned from its pale peach color to a much darker, reddish complexion, still completely speckled in tiny dark freckles. Indeed her breasts have gotten quite a lot bigger, and just like she said she had six of them now. Her ass is probably the widest it’s ever been, looking fully capable of devouring an entire love seat in one sitting underneath its juicy, wobbling mass. Her hair has lost most of its glossy sheen, now a frazzled mane of dirty ginger auburn that sweeps the floor around her. Her eyes, graciously, have been left completely unchanged, still their gorgeous green color and human proportion, and still front facing like a human’s eyes.
“Yeah, you’ve still got people eyes,” you assure your mate… is Lyra your mate? You feel like she’s your mate, and even as monstrous as the two of you are now she’s still very gorgeous to you. You want her as your mate at least.
“Thank goodness,” Lyra heaves a squeal of relief, “You still have people eyes too. Uhh… hey, could I level with you for a minute? For some reason I don’t feel scared about what’s happening to us anymore.”
“You don’t?” You realize you don’t feel scared about your situation anymore either.
“No,” Lyra confirms, “Actually I feel a lot more just… horny? And starving? And like I want you to stick your hot pork sausage deep inside my butt and make me your mate. I don’t… part of me knows I shouldn’t, but an even bigger part of me wants to just give myself up to you and be your fat piggy wife. You don’t think whatever that farmer injected us with is altering our sense of modesty or sexual self control, do you?”
“Speaking of that farmer,” you suddenly realize, “where did he go?”
Suddenly you hear a voice that sounds right out of a Ford F-150 commercial coming from behind you. “Alright, settle down there hogs,” the voice says, “Time to get you all cleaned up, and then y’all can have as much fun as you want.”
“You!” Lyra grunts angrily at the farmer behind you, “You’re the guy who attacked us and turned us into pig things!”
“Hmm,” the farmer thinks aloud, “Seems like the girl one getting agitated. She’ll be getting her bath first.” The farmer moves to grab Lyra, but you shove yourself between them to help keep him away. “Hey now! Calm down! I ain’t taking your lady friend away from ya forever you brute! I just wanna get her mane all nice and shiny! Now git offa me!” He shoves you aside and into the mud, finally pulling Lyra away from you. “Y’all just wait your turn now. I gotta give her a thorough examination and get her ear tagged before I can get to you.”
“Tag me?” Lyra squeals, “What do you mean tag me, you fucker?! I’m not some kind of livestock! Hey! Are you even listening to me?!”
“Feisty little lady, aren’t you?” the farmer says, not seeming to understand what she’s snorting at him, “Don’t you worry, this will all be over before you know it, and you’ll be back with your boyfriend before you know it.” Soon, he and Lyra are out of sight.
A terrifying thought dawns on you. You can’t be understood by other humans anymore. Only you and Lyra can understand what each other is saying, and the farmer couldn’t. You’re probably nothing more than bipedal livestock from his perspective. You’re probably trapped like this and there’s nothing you can do! Unless… can you still… ? It’s worth a try at least.