A kick from his boot and I scurry into the pen. My sight is not too good but the view is of hog tails wiggling over plump round butts. I think it was odd that they would all line up side by side for my personal attentions to begin!
Then I realised that odd was more like I'm stupid, the sows were at the trough. The sounds of gulping their feed and quick hard swallows fill the air.
The air was filled with their cheap perfume, El Swine Pen Decor!
I stood still to one side in disbelief of my change. One could never rationalize the body, feelings, and strange sensations of beoming a hog. What one feels is the air cold and crisp over your naked body. The tickling of each bristle by the breeze and your uncovered privates now open to total view. Oh, sensations a mixture of odors offering predetermined actions, patterns of lifestyle programed into my brain as what humans call instincts.
Watching those happy swishing tails instills a inner desire. The desire wells and now becomes an undeniable lust, which no male could deny. Saliva drips from my lips as my mind longs for the right moment to mount any of those happy rumps.
Shaking my head to clear way the animal lust that's driving me on, I think back to another time when I was a man. A time so long ago it's difficult to remember. The suggested thought of sexually mounting any and all that walk by is immoral to a man, but a simple desire to the boar I am!
As the feeding comes to a end and one by one the row of sows steps away from their dinner I must make a choice. Choice what choice, I have no choice for I am a boar and a hog! Less I continue to think as a man and end up as a centerpiece at some future feast, or announce my intentions with a oink and get to work, this is the choice.