Now you look around and see only sow's butts and mud flying in all directions. Your mind has not yet grasp the fact it does not reside in a human skull. The scents of pig shit and old urine would in the past have turned you around. Now the smells of you stymates are pleasent, it gives sense of home. Wiggling down into the mud and mire bath seems now so right.
A sight of earthworms crawling from the manure pile in the corner of your sty make you hungry. Jumping to the desire of a tasty treat you root with that snout into old manure.
Nibble and chomp as worm after worm crawls out and is lapped up by your piggy mouth. Munching your treat the memory of kids with jummy worms comes to mind and a smile of swine humor wonders if kids might enjoy what you now have.
The banging of buckets sends every hog to the steel trough. A glopping sound of slurried corn, table scraps, and slaughter renderings flops down for a meal.
The scramble is on as the sows push and shove in an atempt to get some or all of the tasty treat. Still somewhat human the new boar stands to one side. Your nostrils sniffs the foul odor which as yet does not make you hungry.
The farmhand see's you thinking a human thought and grants you a stiff shot from his electric prod. Squealing of pain your noise disturbs the ladies dinner. An oink or two of piggy disgust and they return to chomping down the slop.
The sting of your poke aches in the side of the thigh. Yet as the pain eased a sow dripping of desire presses her willing butt into your face.