Forced to All Fours

(woman to pig transformation)

Sandra grumbled to herself as she finished straightening the barn.  Not because of the work – she actually enjoyed working among the animals – but because of her co-workers.  Particularly Barry, a persistent young swain who didn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.  She had initially been attracted to him, even enjoyed a brief fling, but when his more odious personality traits became apparent, she had dumped his ass.  Unfortunately, they were still coworkers.  And also unfortunately, he had more friends on the farm than she, including the owner.  

So everyone seemed to turn a blind eye to his attempts to get back together with the red-headed swineherd.  Tonight he’d come up behind her and pinched her butt, whispering in her ear in his infuriatingly cocky manner, and she’d slapped his hand and stomped off to the barn.  But that had been an hour ago, and Sandra was cooling off.  The quiet grunting of her charges was calming, and she had things pretty well organized.  She almost envied the pigs, and the minimal drama in their lives.  She sat down next to one of the enclosures, putting her fingers through and petting one of the ponderous, affable sows.  

But then the pig looked at her through the bars, as though it was taking notice of her for the first time.  The beast snorted, and began sniffing Sandra’s offered fingers with her wet snout.  Sandra giggled a little at the feeling, surprised that she was getting such a reaction, but the sow was clearly fascinated with her.  The pig licked her fingers, grunting, and finally stuck her nose through the slats, inhaling deeply.  And then several others pigs noticed, and started doing the same.

“What’s wrong, girls?” Sandra asked mildly.  “It’s just me.”  But they seemed to look at her like a celebrity.  It was kind of flattering, in a way, and Sandra smiled, reaching over and letting the swine smell her hand.  Some of the squealing sows roused the boars, and then they were taking a strangely close interest in Sandra, as well.  She raised an eyebrow, noticing that all of the boars… were erect.  Their long, curled penises were bright red and rock hard, bobbing under their excited owners.  What was going on?

But then Sandra realized that it wasn’t just the pigs taking interest in her.  She was taking more notice of them, too.  She realized that she could… smell them?  Individually?  She was surprised at the information.  Each pig had a distinct scent, as different from each other as human faces.  She could sense them all, as individuals, rather than as a herd.  She snorted, her own nostrils flaring like theirs as she breathed in, taking in their scent.  And it was unexpectedly pleasing to her.  Especially the scent of the boars.

She pushed closer, bending way over the fence to reach out to as many of her pigs as possible, patting and rubbing their heads and bodies.  And they took advantage of her posture to crowd around her, sniffing at her body hungrily.  A sow licked her face, and another nuzzled her shoulder.  Her full breasts rolled forward in her leaning position, threatening to pop out of her dress, and another feisty pig pushed his wet snout in her cleavage, licking her feminine endowments.  But Sandra wasn’t disgusted – she laughed at the tickling feeling, enjoying it.  Something in her mind told her that this was great, and not in the least bit disturbing.  And Sandra went with the feeling.

She clambered over the fence, joining the hogs in the pigsty.  They pressed in eagerly against her, snorting and licking, and one pig even stuck his snout up her dress, sniffing at her center.  Sandra laughed, and knelt among them, enjoying the press of pigflesh around her, and her amazing new ability to smell them all so clearly.  Her hands kept roaming around, caressing the swine, and with a start she realized that she had one of the tumescent pig penises in her hand, and was stroking it.

She gasped a little at that, surprised at herself.  But her gasp didn’t sound like it normally would.  It was… higher pitched?  She tried again, and swallowed.  The noise had sounded more like a squeal.  Sandra looked around at all the pigs, and they backed up, looking at her expectantly.  Her hands shaking, she raised her fingers to her nose, and felt her own flaring wet nostrils, now much enlarged.  And as she touched them, she felt her nose grow, flattening and turning upwards like a pig’s snout.  She squealed uncomprehendingly.

But it wasn’t just Sandra’s nose that was changing.  Her hands roamed about her body, taking stock.  Under her dress, in two long rows under her boobs, many new nipples were forming.  Her ears pointed, growing and flopping out of her mess of auburn curls.  And behind her, squiggling about over her swelling bottom, was a thin corkscrew tail.  The tail of a pig.  She… she was turning into a sow!

Sandra squealed in shock, although not as much horror as she would have thought.  The voice in her head was getting louder, more authoritative, and it said not to worry.  She looked around at the pigs, finally understanding why she interested them so much.  She felt her belly swell under her dress, putting on the first of many pounds to come.  Her thumbs began to shrink, as her middle fingers stiffened.  Realizing what was happening, she quickly unzipped and pulled off her boots, freeing toes that were undergoing a similar metamorphosis.  Then Sandra felt a pressure on her back, as the weight of something not quite physical pushed her forward, down onto all fours.  She tried to stand up, but found herself helpless to resist the force.  As her not-quite-hands touched the ground, the voice comforted her, telling her how right this was.  How much she would enjoy it.  That this was her place, and her destiny.  

The pig-to-be shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, but there was no effect.  Her transformation had a solid hold on her.  Her throat swelled, deepening her grunts and squeals, as her nose and mouth extended outward, becoming a small snout.  Even her teeth and tongue changed, tusks tickling the sides of her wider mouth.

And those changes flowed right down her throat.  She felt her esophagus widen, her squirming stomach bloating and changing shape, her innards rearranging themselves behind the expanding curtain of flesh that was her body.  She was fattening to make room for all her organs, and though she couldn’t see them, she knew they were becoming pig-like.  Her fatter intestinal tract shortened, optimizing for a pig’s diet, and then the transformation shot out her back end, reshaping her demure butthole into a wider, leathery pig’s anus underneath her fully formed pig’s tail.  Her broad butthole flared, becoming more prominent, and then the transformation reversed direction, flowing up her helpless, unguarded pussy.  Her vulva swelled, darkening in color, as her clitoris pushed out and grew thicker.  As the changes traveled up her vagina, it twisted to match the penises of the boars that watched her shaking body eagerly.  Her womb swelled, shifting to grow litters along both sides of her uterus, and her fallopian tubes and ovaries shifted to match, human ova dying to be replaced by an almost limitless cornucopia of pig eggs.  And when it had finished with her reproductive system, the metamorphosis pushed forward again to change her heart and lungs, flowing out her snout again as her throat swelled more and her enlarged head tipped back, locking in place for a quadruped.

Once Sandra’s womb was changed, it was like the pigs realized she was truly one of them.  They came forward again, their comforting fat bodies rubbing against hers, and the eager boars took the fabric of her dress in their snouts, tearing it to rags and throwing it on the floor.  Her bra and panties were similarly dealt with, and then she was finally naked.  The pigs smelled her eagerly, enjoying her shifting body.  One audacious boar even shoved his snout under her tail, licking her new pussy and butthole.  But unlike Barry’s unwanted caresses, Sandra found she liked this boar’s forwardness, and leaned back into his exploration of her nethers.  

She tried to stand again, the small resistance of her human self questioning the changes, but her forehooves resolutely refused to come off the ground.  And soon, that force pinning her in a pig’s posture was cemented with unpliable biology.  Her arms and legs shrunk, hips and shoulders settling into sockets with much narrower range.  Her hands and feet were swallowed up entirely, thumbs lost forever and her outer fingers and toes reduced to dew claws beside the keratin of her sturdy, dependable hooves.  Her already bloated belly swelled even larger, puffing out into a broad barrel shape, and her once-beautiful ass swelling into her thighs, her butt cheeks losing definition and pulling apart to showcase her pig pussy and anus.  The added exposure only attracted the attention of more boars, and she found that she welcomed the stimulation of all their snouts and tongues.  

Her head swelled to its proper size, her forehead flattening around a more primitive brain, and her brown eyes darkened into those of a normal pig.  She squealed, grasping for something of her humanity, some measure of control, but the irresistible imperatives of her new body could not be denied.  She would be a pig, and she would like it.  She felt the first boar pull himself up on her broad back, loving the feel of his weight, his forelegs braced on her sides, his hot breath on her neck.  And then, the feeling of his long penis filling every inch of her receptive pussy, thrusting hard until his coiled cock was firmly rooted inside her, and pushing her into bliss she had never dreamed of.

The soon-to-be-sow squealed as she was ravished, enjoying every new sensation, and forgetting completely why she would want to resist such a thing.  All of the other pigs grunted with her, excited, and eager to see her last few human features disappear.  Her big breasts were next, reducing in size as her nipples became more primitive, until at last her boobs were just two more pig teats.  She grunted happily, glad to be rid of them.  Her new teats would be so much better suited for nursing her litters, and her maternal mind was eager to have lots and lots of piglets.  The boar on her back seemed to agree, and he orgasmed, pouring his thick, jelly-like seed into her receptive womb for minutes on end while her own climax crested.  She barely needed to hear the voice of instinct in her head anymore, reassuring her – her orgasm was more than enough.  Her lover pulled out and a second boar mounted her while she was still in the throes of her orgasmic haze – a powerful cloud of bliss that would surround her for half an hour.  As the second boar got situated and started thrusting, her beautiful red hair began to retract, fading away to leave her flat head entirely bald.  Then bristles began to grow in on her body, and splotchy discolorations on her back and flanks to match those on her sty mates.  

Sandra was no more.  She had become an ordinary, grunting sow, indistinguishable from the dozens of others in the barn.  And she loved her new body.  The breeding sow squealed in pride and ardor as she took the second boar’s seed, and prepared to welcome a third.  But, despite the power of her ongoing climax, she noticed that she was not alone.  Barry and several of his friends had entered the sty at some point during her transformation, and he was now looking down smugly on the fat pig that was once the cute girl who had rejected him.  He was saying something, insulting her, but she could barely hear it over the blood rushing in her ears.

He thought he was punishing her, she realized.  Diminishing her.  But the joke was on him.  The fat sow had never been happier.  And as the third dismounted, she spread her legs wide for the fourth boar, eager to experience them all.  Barry laughed at the sight, at her eagerness, and she would have laughed with him if she was still able.  But all things considered, she preferred squealing to laughing, anyway, and released a full throated one in her passion.  Then she was mounted again.

Months later, the fat sow had acclimated fully to her life on all fours.  She loved being a pig, and doted on the seven tiny piglets she had recently given birth to.  Of course, she was pregnant again.  The fertile hog never missed an opportunity for sex, and would find herself blissfully pregnant for the rest of her life.  She still remembered her old life as a farmhand; even the name ‘Sandra’ if she thought about it hard enough.  But the mother sow didn’t really miss it.  She loved the sensory experience of being a pig, of feeling her fellow swine waddling around and rubbing against her, of gorging herself, of simply enjoying life as it came and greedily indulging her every desire.  She knew that instinct colored her perceptions, making her love her new body and life more than was natural.  But she thought she would be happy even without it.  Being a pig felt amazing to the young sow.

She would never know how she had been changed, or even if any of the other fat pigs had once been women like her, who had rejected someone’s advances.  But she didn’t care about any of that.  She was happy as the bloated breeding sow she deserved to be.  And the losers who tottered about on two legs didn’t know what they were missing.  The brood sow grunted and rolled over, presenting her milky teats to her energetic brood.  She grunted happily as she felt them latch on, and settled back into the simple pleasure of her true life.  

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