Arctos: Filters – Episode 4 (Part 5)

But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it! He was too weak like this, he was too scared, and too gentle, and too…too much in love to take what he wanted. He wanted Bruce to be his pig, to be happy as his pig, but he could see now that Bruce was too terrified to pursue it. He needed to be someone else. Someone forceful. Someone who cared less, and wanted more. Someone with bigger balls than he had. So Jay had dug into the app, and started filtering out everything about himself that was weak, layering everything else on, making someone who could do it, someone who could take what they wanted, someone who could do what Jay was too kind to do. Someone who could show Bruce what he needed, someone who could give them both what they wanted–what Jay knew they wanted.

And that is who was staring down at Bruce now. He recognized him as Jay, but knew it wasn’t the same Jay who had left the barn before. He was…huge, at least seven and a half feet tall, thick with muscle and fat, covered in bristle from face to trotter. He had, apparently, taken Bruce’s words to heart–Jay was as much a boar as Bruce was a pig, thick tusks pushing out from his short snout, bristle running from his coarse, wiry beard over his head and down his back, a treasure trail running down the front of his thick gut, broad shoulders, thick hips, massive thighs, huge trotters a foot from Bruce’s face, and all he could do was smell him. Perhaps he wasn’t even as imposing as Bruce thought, staring up at him, but so much of what he was seeing depending on what he was smelling–what he smelled was more important. This was an alpha, this was his owner, his master, his ruler, his top, his partner.

“:Fuck, you’re pathetic,” Jay grunted out, and followed with a snort, “We both were pathetic, really. Well, no more of that shit, I don’t think, do you?”

Bruce couldn’t do much other than snort, and just blankly stared at the thick bulge in the front of Jay’s overalls, while the boar pulled out his phone, and in the app, started tweaking a few of Bruce’s filters, and after a moment, he took a picture of the hungry, sex-desperate pig below him, and watched him start to shrink–slightly. The massive bulk which had enveloped him a moment ago, pinning him to the muddy floor of the barn, receded enough that he could stand up and move again, but he didn’t shrink to the same size he’d woken up at. A few other changes swept over him, a softening of some of his features, but twisting in other ways, especially in his face, which looked less like a pig than before, and more human, though he still had his floppy, ring pierced ears and a prominent pig nose pierced with a doorknocker ring. Bruce felt other changes more profoundly on the inside–a dull pain in his guts and groin especially, and he realized, after a moment, through the fog of the pheromones pouring off the boar in front of him, that he’s lost his nuts. The hefty sack he’d had a moment before simply disappeared, his cock shrinking to a much smaller nub, and he found that all of that sexual energy directed at his own pleasure refocused on the stinking boar in front of him, and without even thinking about it, he forced himself up, gut still dragging along the floor of the barn, licking and chewing at the front of the boar’s overalls, hungry for his cock, hungry to serve, hungry for…for so much. He felt like a pit had grown inside him, a hole, and he needed to fill it more than anything else. Food, sex, pleasure, sevice, all of it would fall into it, but Bruce could already tell it would never be full. Had it always been there, in his guts? He didn’t know for sure, but he could already feel it swallowing his fear, his weakness–there wasn’t room to be afraid inside him anymore. The emptiness would either eat him, or his fear, and as he felt it disappear, everything felt so much easier.

It was easy to be a pig. It was easy to suck his master’s cock, easy to snort in his musk, easy to love him. He loved him! Bruce loved him so much, loved him in ways he could have never allowed himself to love anyone before. He’d taken away the fear, he’d taken away the weakness. Jay had freed him, had made everything easy, so easy, so smooth, so empty. He wanted to make him happy too, wanted to be a good pig, wanted to give him everything he could, be everything that Jay wanted him to be, wanted to tell him all of this, but even with his human face, his voice hadn’t returned. It didn’t matter–if Jay didn’t want him to have a voice, than he didn’t need one. He could show him in other ways, he could show him what Jay’s love meant to him.

“Yeah, that’s the kind of attention I wanted this morning from you, you stupid hog,” Jay said, while Bruce sucked his cock, “I have a feeling these changes are going to open up new horizons for you, pretty soon–and if you don’t like them? Well you know what? I can just fucking make you like them. I can make you forget anything was ever different. I know what you need, you fucking hog, I always knew what you needed most, but you were too chickenshit to figure it out for yourself. Well, now you don’t have to think about anything, other than filling up that need sitting in your fucking soul–that, and keeping my boarcock good and happy.”

Arctos: Filters – Episode 4 (Part 4)

“You made me like this, don’t forget,” Jay said, as Bruce squealed in panic, desperately trying to move himself with his too short, too weak legs, “You made me! I know I’m right, because I’m just a reflection of you–you wouldn’t have made me want this, if you didn’t want it too, but you’re just too stubborn to understand your own head! I know what’s best! I know what you really want! And I’m gonna fucking show you…I’ll…fuck!” Jay said, and stormed out of the barn, slamming the door behind him, leaving Bruce there, squealing still, trapped within his massive, nearly nine hundred pound body, realizing that he had just made things so, so much worse without even trying.

All of this. He’d made all of this. This was all him, every decision, every false step, every idiotic word, every cowardly choice. All of it had led him here, trapped in a relationship with the same man he’d been with before, when he’d been human. Neither of them had changed, just the dressing, just the obsessions. He had to get out of here, he had to get help–but how? He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak–as far as most people were concerned, he probably just looked like a pig–an ugly, strangely shaped pig in some ways, but just a pig at the end of the day. Maybe he’d always been this pig. He gave up for a moment, and just laid there, listening to the farm, listening for Jay, really, wondering what, exactly, he was going to do next.

He…had never seen Jay this angry, he didn’t think. He had been upset when Bruce had left that day, and said he wanted to break up with him. Upset, but not…mad. He’d seemed more upset at himself, than he’d felt angry at Bruce, like he had failed somehow, or angry that he was letting something slip away. Mostly, he’d…done everything he could to avoid alienating Bruce further, he’d left the door wide open to keep going, and that was all Bruce had needed to come back–because all of his protests aside, all the good reasons he had for leaving, he’d always wanted to come back–he just…had never thought it would end with him here.

Time passed again, just as slow as the morning, but now, instead of mildly eager anticipation, all he felt was a dull, muted terror, and the certainty in his gut that all of this, in the end, really was his fault, but even then, he couldn’t quite put everything together, how all of his little weaknesses had compounded together into this nightmare, like the fat pinning him to the earth that he occasionally tested himself against. Denial struggled along anyway. This couldn’t be his fault. Sure, he had made every choice, and every action, that had landed him here. Sure, he was weak, and terrified, and both Jay and Jean had just wanted what was best for him, both of them just wanted him to be happy in the exact way Jay and Jean thought he should be happy, a happiness that terrified Bruce more than just about anything else, because he wasn’t happy. Because happiness would require change, and work, and acknowledging that something inside himself didn’t want to be happy, didn’t think he deserved someone else, didn’t think he should even exist. But this wasn’t his fault, this couldn’t be his fault. It was the app, it was Jean, it was Jay, it was anything else, everything else conspiring against him. But still, he was left pinned there by his own mass, grunting and squealing, wondering if he should cry, wondering if he should scream, he should think of something to tell Jay when he got back, he should be ready to beg, anything other than this mute acceptance, which was all he could seem to muster.

He didn’t have to wait as long this time, at least, before Jay did return, the sound of the barn door creaking open behind him, and he tried to twist his fat neck and see him, Bruce unsure of what either of them was going to do now. He couldn’t see him, though–but he could smell something…something unlike anything he’d smelled before in his life. It smelled like sex, it smelled like beautiful, fragrant desire and rutting and cum and sweat, and unable to stop himself, he was drooling, his cock hardening deep within his flab, and he started rocking back and forth, trying to pleasure himself, even as the smell grew stronger. He could barely focus on anything at all, beyond the smell, when Jay finally rounded Bruce’s massive frame and stood in front of him, only wearing his overall now, but he was no longer the same man who had stormed off from the barn an hour earlier.

Jay had been furious. Furious not so much at Bruce, but at himself. Furious at how weak he was, at how desperate he was, at how this stupid pig could get him so riled up, that even when Jay had all the power in the world, he still felt helpless before Bruce’s terror at himself. He’d gone back to the farmhouse and stared at himself, trying to sort out what he was feeling, wondering about who he had been before this, wondering what he had done to Bruce to make him turn him into this thing. Bruce…had to want this, didn’t he? Bruce had made him! He was just a reflection of Bruce’s desires in the end, right? But if he was just a reflection, then who was he really?

He had to be someone, he had to be someone himself, someone beyond Bruce! He thought about the lonely nights here, after Bruce had abandoned him, how empty he’d felt, how he’d been willing to do anything not to feel that anymore. How everything without Bruce had felt…pointless. He couldn’t go back to that. He couldn’t be without him again, he couldn’t go back to feeling that empty despair, he would kill himself, or he would let Bruce do it for him, undo him, try to bring back whoever had been here before him. But he didn’t want to die. Didn’t he deserve happiness? Didn’t he deserve a chance to get what he wanted out of life?

Arctos: Filters – Episode 4 (Part 3)

“Well, even if ya don’t want to stay like this tomorrow, I gotta say, that was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my whole damn life, pig,” he said, and stood back up, “How about you? It seemed like you were having a good time.”

Bruce didn’t quite know what to say about it. He had…enjoyed it, he supposed, but then again, he hadn’t really had a choice in the matter. His body had just done what it wanted to do, and he’d just been along for the ride. “I–*grunt*–I did, but…but hell,” he said, paused to shake his face, flinging bits of slop everywhere, “I…it was intense…” was all he could really think to say. He looked back and up at Jay, and saw it wasn’t exactly the effusive praise that Jay was looking for from him, and while he felt bad…what was he supposed to do? Lie? “Look, I…it was hot, yeah, and I…fuck, that was a damn good orgasm, but none of that…was me, you know? I didn’t have any control of myself! I was just so damn hungry, and so horny, and…and is that what you really want from me? Is that it? Is this all I’m really good for, to you?” The question hung in the air, and too late, Bruce realized that he had spoken something that should have never been spoken aloud. It had broken something between them, a contract, one Bruce had only been aware of as subtext–and the look of confusion, and then reproachment on Jay’s face…did not seem to bode well for him, particularly.

“I’m just trying to show you how good things could be if you just let go for a little while!” Jay said, sidestepping the question, “Maybe it’s good that you felt like things were out of your control. Maybe you don’t need to always be wondering if something is right–maybe you can just relax for a while, and do what feels good! What’s so wrong with that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it! I liked it, I just…you know what? You weren’t even having sex with me, just now. You were just fucking a pig–a pig you made…me inhabit, a pig though, just an animal. You always told me…you always told me you liked me more because I wasn’t just a pig, but is that…what am I to you, really?” he asked, turning around to face Jay, feeling more hurt the more he thought about it, the more he felt…used, the more he felt like something in this had violated him, somehow. “I think you should change me back now, and…and I’d like…I don’t know, just…not like this.”

“Look, why don’t we just calm down for a little bit. You just told me you liked it!”

“Jay, this…this is a fucked up, and I know you know it. Just change me back, alright, and we can talk about it, but this is fucked!” he shouted, “I know you get off on me acting like an animal, but I didn’t think you literally just wanted to have sex with a fucking pig, you know? Fuck, I…I fucked you up so fucking much, I’m so fucking sorry, I…I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I–”

“I didn’t ask to be like this!” Jay shouted over him then, “I don’t know who the fuck I was before this, and you can’t just fucking lord that shit over me, like you fucking know me! At least I fucking know who I am, you know? At least I fucking know what I want! You’re the one who comes crawling back to me. You’re the one who wants this, but is too fucking cowardly to do anything about it!”

“Fuck you! You’re a bigger fucking pig than I ever could be, you know that? Some fucking loser farmer out here, fantasizing about fucking his pigs all day long, so fucking excited that he could make it happen finally. You’re the fucking coward–just go fuck that big hog of yours, and leave me the fuck out of this!” Bruce shouted back. He wanted to get out more, but Jay pulled out the phone from his pocket, moved something around on the app, and he heard the click of the shutter. A moment later, his words dissolved away into nothing more than oinks and squeals–he could still think all the words he wanted to say, but nothing would come out other than pig noises. He quit lunged for Jay’s hand that had the phone, hoping he could grab it with his mouth, but he was much too unwieldy–and after another shutter snap, Bruce could feel his body growing again, piling on even more fat, his gut growing down until it brushed against the ground, and then laid on it, his legs straining, trying to move his sudden mass, but having no luck at all. He was…immobile, and all he could do was squeal and grunt at Jay in anger and frustration, while the farmer looked on at him, scowling and furious–mostly because he knew that Bruce was right, mostly.

Jay…did like pigs. He liked pigs more than people, and always had, but not…for sex. Not until he’d met Bruce, had that bridge been crossed in his mind, and ever since they’d met…he’d been so frustrated. Frustrated by the fact that Bruce was so close to giving into his inner pig at any moment, so close to giving Jay what he needed, and yet…that irritating, fallible, doubting human would somehow always get in the damn way, every time! He just wanted him to let go, he just wanted to show him how happy Bruce could make him, if he just…if he just stopped being so damn human all the damn time. It wasn’t right, what he’d done, he knew that–but it was what he wanted…and to hell with what Bruce wanted, he told himself. Bruce didn’t know what mattered. Bruce wasn’t doing shit with him life. He…owed this to Jay, for what he’d done to him.

Arctos: Filters – Episode 4 (Part 2)

He didn’t have to wait long, at least–Jay headed straight for Bruce’s stall, unlocked it, and swung the gate open. He was dressed in his usual gear for his morning routines–overalls, waders, a flannel shirt. “Sorry for the wait, pig,” he said, “Chores took a bit longer this morning than I expected. Now, how about breakfast?”

Bruce just grunted in affirmation, not really needing words for this, as Jay led him down the row of stalls to a large trough, with several buckets of slop beside it. Bruce bellied right up to the metal, and Jay tipped the buckets into it, and Bruce could barely control himself–the hunger was so damn powerful, he didn’t even think twice about shoving his face right into the muck and chowing down as fast as he could. It was…instinctual. Inside himself, Bruce tried to pull back, tried to contain himself, tried to measure the gluttony that had been growing inside him for the last few hours in the stall, but this body refused to be limited–it wanted food, and it wanted…it wanted to get fucked, and anything else going on inside Bruce’s mind didn’t even matter, beyond those physical demands. He felt Jay run one hand along his back, and Bruce…shuddered, wiggling his tail and his ass, hoping Jay would know what the pig needed–but of course Jay knew what he needed. After all, Jay had made him like this.

Looking down at Bruce, Jay was…ecstatic. It wasn’t everything that he wanted, but he had a whole day to get there. This was the start of it, this is what he wanted Bruce to feel first–he wanted him to give up that control, that constant, aggravating need to constantly hold himself back from the pig he could be, if he just let himself go. So now, he didn’t have a choice. His body would want what his body wanted, and there was nothing that Bruce would be able to do about it, besides enjoy the ride–because Jay knew he was going to enjoy it–he’d make sure of it, one way or another.

“I knew you would make a handsome piebald,” Jay said, running his hand further back, and down Bruce’s quivering rump, “a handsome pig over all, I should say. I’ve been waiting all morning for this pig, you know, been so damn horny, doing my chores, and I bet you are too. Aching for some hot, farmer dick at this point I bet–well how about I make us both feel a bit better, eh?”

Bruce gave a squeal through a snoutful of food, doing his best to signal his desperation, and the moments while Jay undid the fly of his overalls and hauled out his cock seemed to stretch out longer still than the hours spent waiting in his stall. At last, he felt Jay’s cock press against the entrance to his hole, teasing him, forcing Bruce to slide back to fuck himself, pulling himself free of the slop, his hunger pulling him back forward, caught between two instincts he couldn’t reconcile, his mind just a brick of frustration, until at last, Jay thrust into him, forcing him forward, shoving his entire face into the slop, and everything felt…right.

Where time had stretched out for so long before, now each moment felt weightless. He ate. Jay fucked him. His own hard pig cock throbbed beneath him, beating against his gut, and he could feel his balls throbbing and churning, his own load building slowly but surely as well. He lost track of how much he ate, how long Jay fucked him, all that mattered was that he was getting what he needed. Getting what he wanted, more than anything, feeling something he had never experienced before, a complete and utter moment of satisfaction. This was all he’d needed. This was all that he’d ever needed. Food, and a fuck. Is this what Jay wanted him to feel, or is this just the natural result? In any case…it was seductive. He’d felt so many worries for so long, so many concerns that he wasn’t…enough. That his life should hold more than it did, that being happy wasn’t enough, that he wasn’t enough, that his relationships weren’t enough, that his life wasn’t enough. But in that moment, it was. He felt it, that peak, that sensation that everything he needed was met, and he could…rest, perhaps. His mind could rest at least, for the moment, and he could just enjoy the wave of emotion and sensation rushing though him–and then, his cock exploded, and everything else grew even fainter, as the orgasm ripped through him.

His orgasms had always been powerful before, usually holding strong for a few minutes at a time, before ebbing away over another ten minutes or so. This, however, was something else entirely. The pleasure struck him, and just…held there, the intensity not falling away at all, his mind so overwhelmed with sensation that it simply shut off. Bruce didn’t remember what happened for the next half hour or so, because Bruce didn’t really exist for that time. He wasn’t…needed. His body did what it wanted for the next half hour or so–it ate, and kept slamming his ass back against Jay’s cock–and when Bruce became aware of the world again, when there was space inside him to think, he saw that the trough had emptied itself, and he was left licking the metal for scraps he had missed, and Jay was finished fucking him–and from the cum running down the inside of his thighs, had obviously finished inside him at some point while he was gone. Jay was beside him now, at the trough, one arm draped over his broad shoulders, stroking him while he finished eating, and the needs were finally sated enough that he could tear himself away, panting, somehow exhausted, and look at him. Before he could say anything though, Jay leaned in and kissed him, licking some of the slop from the end of his snout, sliding his tongue into Bruce’s mouth, and it was so…gentle, so calming after the whirlwind he’d just been through, that Bruce just kissed him back, enjoying the tenderness they could share for the moment, until Jay pulled away again, grinning that cocky grin of his–obviously thinking he’d already won.

Arctos: Filters – Episode 4 (Part 1)

Bruce didn’t wake up in the bed he’d fallen asleep in–instead, the sun beamed down on him through the thin cracks between the old barn walls, as he began to stir on his bed of straw, stretching out his legs as he opened his eyes. He’d…slept really soundly, harder than he had in a long time, and it took him awhile to realize that he wasn’t imagining things, that he really was out in the barn, alone in a stall, lying on his side here, just thinking about…nothing in particular. After all, he didn’t need to think about anything. All he had to do was wait for breakfast–which would probably be here soon…though he might be able to sleep for a little while longer, if he just shut his eyes and relaxed…

But Bruce didn’t do that, because Bruce could feel that this was off–he could still remember, distantly, that he had fallen asleep in a bed the night before, that everything telling him this was normal was…wrong, somehow. He focused, and things came back to him, slowly–the deal he’d made with Jay coming back into focus, and with a loud grunt, he realized that it had happened! Jay had changed him in the night–he hadn’t even waited for him to wake up to do it. Part of him couldn’t help but feel a bit violated, that he hadn’t even had a chance to prepare for this, but the other part of him was so…well, content, that it was difficult for Bruce to muster the emotional energy to really care. Still, he wanted to see what had changed, exactly–he tried to roll up, but his hands and feet didn’t seem to be working the way they remembered–he focused on his hands, and saw that, well…he didn’t have hands.

Instead of his usual, thick arms, he had legs–two front pig legs, ending with thick black trotters where his hands should be. He bent around, and saw that his legs were also no longer mostly human as they had been–they were just his back legs. It looked like, unless Jay changed his mind later, that Bruce was going to be spending the day on all fours for the time being. Wondering how he’d be able to manage, he went back to trying to roll upright, and it proved easier than he was expecting. His body…knew how to manage well enough with the four legs, and so it was only a few minutes before he was standing on them all, shaking a bit, getting used to the new sensation of his trotters against the ground, and once he was stable, he tried walking.

The stall wasn’t very large, but it was large enough that he could get a few paces back and forth. He only fell down once, when he was trying to hard to make his legs work how he thought they should work, but once he stopped focusing on it so much, it became more natural–this was…just how he walked, after all–or that’s what the new chunk of his mind told him, even though the old Bruce knew it wasn’t true, not really. He took the time to examine the rest of his body, though it was difficult without a mirror, but not too much else seemed to have changed overall–his body seemed a bit chunkier perhaps, but it was hard to tell if that was because of something changing, or just because of how his new body looked, it was hard to tell. One thing that was definitely different was his skin tone. Where before he had been pink all over, his skin was now mottled in a piebald pattern, with large brown spots all over him. He remembered that Jay had told him once how handsome a piebald pig looked, and apparently, handsome had also meant sexy.

He turned circles a couple of times, trying to quell the panic in his chest, but eventually he realized there was nothing he could do, especially without actual hands, and he plopped back down on the straw, figuring he would just have to wait for Jay to come see him, hopefully with breakfast in tow, because one thing Bruce knew for sure was that he was hungry–hungrier than he could ever really recall being, in fact. Left with nothing but his thoughts in the stall, all Bruce could do was think about this, about what Jay wanted out of this exactly. He knew that Bruce had always liked it when Bruce pretended to be a real pig on all fours, but was that what he really wanted from him? To…be a pig? It seemed…simple, somehow, but then, what exactly had he expected Jay to do to him? More importantly, he supposed, did he like it himself? That was the bar, after all–Jay was doing this to show Bruce not only what Jay wanted, but to prove to Bruce that he wanted it too. But so far, the only thing Bruce was feeling was, well, boredom. Well, boredom and hunger, and increasingly, horniness. Perhaps worst of all, there was nothing he could do about any of them.

The minutes ticked by. Or, he imagined them ticking by. He didn’t really have a measure of time in the stall, aside from the impossibly slow shift in the bars of light from the sun on the side of the barn. He got up and paced occasionally, had some water from the basin in the stall, and mostly just…laid around, feeling the needs inside of him building and welling, taking up more and more of his attention, until he wasn’t sure if he was more desperate for food or a fuck, or just both of them together. Mostly, he was just eager for something to happen–why was Jay making him wait? Why just change him and leave him here? Was there some…point to it? Bruce realized, then, the sheer scope of the power he’d handed to Jay when he’d given him the phone and the app. He only had Jay’s word, after all, that he would change him back after today, and while Jay was trustworthy…given the revelations of the day before, who knew what Jay was thinking? He called out, after a while, relieved that he could, at least, still speak words, though his voice had shifted down into something more guttural, and his words were always accompanied by a series of grunts and oinks that he couldn’t control. His cries were never met with an answer though, and so he waited, feeling his stomach churn around an empty pit, his cock and ass aching…and finally, he heard it, the familiar sound of the barn door opening, and he scrambled up onto all fours, squealing, desperate for attention.

What Would I Do To You? #5 (Roidpig)

Today is the last day of this week of flash stories! Flash commissions will be open through the rest of the month, and likely into September. If you are interested, send me a message!

You’re in good shape, but not great shape. You like working out, go three times a week (though you skip, on occasion), but do you love it. I think you could do better, be more dedicated. You could be so much better with just a little assistance. Good thing I know just how to help–this stuff is potent though, and it’s best if we introduce it to your system gradually. I don’t tell you of course–you’ve told me what you think of those guys at the gym, the ones you’ve seen injecting each other. You just don’t understand how someone could be so obsessed with themselves, that they’d use drugs to change their bodies like that. Well, I’m obsessed with yours, so I guess you’ll find out what it’s like, one way or another. So to start with, just a couple of drops in your food at each meal–aren’t I nice, making sure you have breakfast before work? Packing you a lunch? Dinner for you when you get home? So considerate.

I see the effects before you even notice them. How restless you are, around the house. I suggest you go workout some of your energy, and you think that’s a great suggestion. You’re up to five days a week at the gym, and you’re feeling–and looking–great. I up the dosage, and then you start to notice some things feel…off. You have a hard time focusing at work–sitting behind a desk for hours on end, without doing anything? It just seems…impossible now, for some reason. You take longer breaks, and workout in the midday–it helps for now, but we’ll break you of that pesky job soon enough. You feel the same restlessness at home too–I suggest you invest in equipment for a home gym–think how much you can save overtime, by skipping the membership! You see my logic, and buy a treadmill, and a set of free weight equipment–you don’t…quite recall ordering the power rack, but you must have, right? It gets used a lot, in any case–you work out so much more, now that you live where your gym is–on occasion, when you can’t sleep, I can hear you on the bench, grunting in the middle of the night.

At some point, you begin to suspect something. Is it the hair growth? The ache in your teeth? The inability to focus? Your insatiable appetite? You accuse me–and to your surprise, I admit it. You’re furious, you want to strike me, but you resist, and just tell me to get out–I leave without argument–I know you’ll come around soon.

In less than a day, you call me. You demand to know what I put in your food–now that the withdrawal symptoms have set in. It hurts, doesn’t it? The ache in your muscles, from all that exercise? You can barely move, you’re starving, you want to die. I come home, and fix you up–but I think you’ve grown past the oral dose–I prep the needle, and make sure you see it. I make you beg me for it–and I inject it into your ass. The relief is immediate–and euphoric. There’s a reason you start off easy with this stuff–if you’d injected it without any tolerance built up…well, the results would have been interesting, but not the results we want, right? Or at least, the results you want now–after our chat. You just felt so good, after getting your injection, after all, it felt so good to agree with me, and do what I say, and believe what I want you to believe. How important it is to you to workout all the time, as much as you can. How sexy you look now. How you should be thanking me, for knowing just what to do with you. You do thank me–you suck my cock like a good little roidpig, and then you go workout, like I never even left.

It’s easier, now that you’re fully onboard. You get your injections twice a day, morning and night, and after each one, we have a good chat. You’re finding it harder to think after each one–you don’t know it it’s the drug, or if it’s me telling you how stupid you’re becoming. How helpless–how you have to depend on me for everything. You realize before too long that you holding down a job at an office is hopeless–you’re too stupid to do anything like that, after all. Best for you to focus on the important thing–working out, and pleasing me.

In a month, the results have accelerated. You’re much shorter now–five foot two, the last time we measured. It’s like, as your muscles grow, they are tugging on your bones, making them shorter, and thicker. All of you is thicker, not just with muscle (though there is plenty of muscle) but also with a thick roid gut–you love it when I rub it during our chats, feeling all that bristly hair growing in. You lost a tooth the other day–and that freaked you out, until I showed you the new one growing in under it. A week later, you have one tusk poking out the side of your mouth–but it’s brother comes in soon after.

It’s your cock and balls that worried you most, though. They’re so…small. The shorter you grow, the more they seem to shrink, like they’re withering away to nothing. You ask me what’s happening to them–well, you try to ask. You keep forgetting words, more and more these days. Grunting is just so much easier, and it gets the point across, usually. During our next chat, after one of your injections, I ask you why you even need them. You don’t fuck anything–who would want an ugly best like you to fuck them at all? No–you don’t need to worry about silly things like that–you just need to worry about working out, and being a good roidpig for me. That eases your concerns, and a few weeks later, when the husk of your cock falls off your body, you bring it to me like a trophy, full of pride, and ask me–I think–if you’ll grow another one, like your new teeth. Instead, I make you forget you ever had a cock–as far as you know, you’ve never had a cock, or balls–just a hairy crotch. Not like me. I have a cock, that’s what makes me so much better than a Roidpig like you. I’m smarter than you. I’m better looking than you. You’re a freak, but that’s alright–you like being a freak, don’t you?

I take you outside sometimes, on a leash, wearing a bright red wrestling singlet. The way people stare at you, four feet tall, wider than you are tall, lumbering about, snorting with your piggy snout and tusks, licking them while you stare at all the men’s bulges at your eye level, you hungry pig. We keep you well sated–you had to do some kind of work, right? Men pay handsomely to fuck a Roidpig like you, you make more as a whore than you ever did as a office grunt, and you’re so much happier now! We both are.

Tommy couldn’t remember much about the party he’d attended the night before–everything had gotten really fuzzy after his second drink, the one the older guy had brought him. “How are you feeling, piggy?” the man said, unzipping Tommy’s pants and feeling up his cock, while other men looked on, grinning, “You’re gonna be a good little piggy for me, aren’t you?”

Tommy couldn’t fight the men off as they stripped him down and started dressing him up, shoving a curly pig tail dildo in his ass, putting a leather harness on him, gagging him so the only sounds he could make were grunts and snorts as the men abused his chubby body, fucking both of his holes as they all told him what a good pig he was being. The next morning, he could only remember snippets of all of it, but as he stared at himself in the bathroom in his hotel room, he knew something must have happened to him, because he was different. Really different.

His mouth and nose had started to flatten and push out into a snout. His hair was falling out all over his body, aside from a coating of bristly fur along his back. Two tusks were starting to push their way out of his bottom jaw and curl up around his lips as he let out a few grunts and snorts, jacking off his now sheathed, corkscrew shaped cock with his three fingered, trottered hands.

“Soooey!’ the voice outside his hotel room said again, and the man knocked again, louder this time, “You almost ready for me piggy? I bet you’re looking handsome this morning. I can’t wait to get you down on the farm, watching up roll in the mud and the muck. Open the door piggy, open the door for your farmer…”

It was getting harder to think now, and his eyes were looking smaller and duller in the mirror, as another orgasm wracked it’s way through Tommy’s pig cock. They seemed to last forever, and the counter was coated in his pig cum, a curly tail pushing its’ way out above his ass, and he tromped his heavy body to the door. His farmer was out there–his master. He needed to let him in. He needed a good piggy fuck this morning, and he unbolted the door.