“Blake, we shouldn’t be here. We’ll be seen!” Arnold protested.

“Shh,” Blake said as he peered through the bushes at the festival preparations.

“Blake!” Arnold urged.

“We’re not doing anything wrong by just looking,” Blake hissed, “Now ssh, or somebody will see us!”

“But I thought we were gonna—” Arnold began to protest again.

Just then, two native women appeared, each carrying a large basket of food.

Blake’s mouth watered as the aroma of exotic spices hit his nostrils.

“Blake, come on,” Arnold pressed. “Let’s go back before they see us and get pissed!”

“Fine, you go back,” Blake whispered. “I’m gonna go get some of that food!”

“Blake, no!” Arnold protested, but just as the women put their baskets down and turned to go back into their tents, Blake emerged from the bushes and quickly crept down the hill that overlooked the festival grounds.

Damn it, Blake! Arnold growled to himself as he hurriedly followed suit, quickly following his friend down the hill, but he lost his footing on the steep slope, and though he managed to avoid crying out, he began to slide noisily down, leaving a dust trail and parallel tracks in the sandy bank where he’d slid.

He came to a stop, and he and Blake both held their breath anxiously and looked around for anyone who might have heard them for almost a minute before Blake finally breathed a sigh of relief and glared at him. Arnold cringed.

“Come on,” Blake mouthed, nodding his head towards the food.

If nobody had come out to investigate, yet, then they were probably safe. They silently ran over to where many baskets had been set out, each containing a different kind of the native tribe’s cuisine. Without a word, Blake quickly began stuffing his pockets with anything he could get his hands on, looking over his shoulder frequently. Arnold was hesitant to take the food, but he reluctantly began to follow suit.

Strong hands suddenly grabbed them both by the shoulder and spun them around. The men gasped to see a dozen warriors with spears pointed at them.

“Shit,” Blake murmured, putting his hands up and dropping the food in them on the ground.

“We’re fucked,” Arnold whispered.

The nearest warrior yelled at them and thrust his spear at them, silencing them and making them both take a step backward. Without a word, the warriors surrounded them and drove them into one of the tents, knocking them onto their knees in front of what they assumed was the village elder, who scowled at them with wild eyes and a weathered face.

“Look, please…” Arnold began to plead, but the elder put his hand up, silencing him once more.

“You…” the elder began slowly in a soft, cracking voice, “You are outsiders. Why are you here?”

The men looked at each other, but with a signal from Blake, neither said anything. One of the warriors behind them shoved them forward while others reached into their pockets and pulled out handfuls of the food, throwing it on the ground in front of their faces.

“You…steal,” the elder said, scowling even harder.

“Please,” Arnold begged, “It–it just tastes good!”

“Hmph,” the elder replied. “Then…eat,” he said, his voice firm.

“Excuse me?” Blake asked incredulously.

“Eat,” the elder said again, gesturing to the food in the sand in front of them.

Arnold was about to protest that the food was mixed with sand now, but the stern look from the elder didn’t seem too accommodating. Arnold looked at Blake, who refused to move; he just sat there defiantly.

“Eat,” the elder repeated, and the warriors behind them pushed their spears into their backs firmly.

“Oh, fine!” Arnold said, reaching forward to pick up the food.

A spear sharply jabbed into the back of his hand, making him recoil in fear.

“Use…your mouth,” the elder said, “Like the animals.”

“Fuck this,” Blake said, rising.

A whack to the backs of his knees dropped him again right where he stood.

“Eat,” the elder said with indefatigable patience, “Or be killed.”

Arnold’s heart raced. Torn between humiliation and fear, he wasn’t sure what to do. But the spear poking into his back was beginning to really hurt, and no matter how much he leaned forward, the spear always followed him.

“Fine, fine!” he said at last, unable to bear it anymore.

He leaned forward, took a bite off the top of the food—the furthest from the sand—chewed, and swallowed. He was so humiliated that he couldn’t even appreciate the taste.

“All of it,” the elder said, a faint smile crossing his wizened face.

The elder made a gesture, and suddenly Blake cried out in pain as a spear jabbed hard into his back.

“You, too,” the elder said, gesturing with his head to the food in front of Blake.

Blake huffed a few times and then leaned forward and took a bite as Arnold took another one. The grit of sand made them grimace, but they dutifully ate all of the food in front of them, sand and all.

The elder nodded satisfaction and made a gesture with his head. The warriors grabbed the men by the shoulders, dragged them to their feet, and marched them out of the tent.

“Where are you taking us?” Arnold asked fearfully.

A shout and a jab from the warrior behind him quickly silenced him as the stink of a pigsty filled his nostrils. He grimaced as they rounded a tent and came face-to-face with the sty itself. A number of large hogs wallowed in the mud in the moonlight while others lay resting in a drier part of the pen.

One of the warriors opened the gate while the rest herded the men into the sty.

“You stay here,” one of them said.

Most of the warriors left, leaving three to guard them. The walls of the sty were about four feet tall—too tall to jump over—and the warriors watched them like hawks.

“What are they gonna do?” Arnold asked.

“I dunno,” Blake replied. “Let’s just—”

A shout from the braves and a lightning-quick jab with a spear made them both jump backward. They slipped and fell, both landing in the mud beside the pigs while the warriors hooted with laughter and the hogs came to check them out.

That was the least of their worries, though. To their shock, the entire tribe began to surround the sty, point at them, and talk amongst themselves in a language the men didn’t understand.

The elder appeared and put up his hand, silencing the others.

“Come,” he said to the men, gesturing.

Arnold and Blake exchanged glances and remained where they were in the mud, but a sharp jab from a particularly long spear behind them quickly got them to their feet. The elder beckoned them closer, some food in his hand. He gestured to it.

“Eat,” he said.

The men hesitated, and then Arnold reached out to take the food from the elder, who promptly dropped it in the mud at their feet. Arnold looked down and then back up at the elder helplessly.

“Sorry, it fell…can we have some more?” he asked.

The elder gestured to the food at their feet. “Eat,” he said.

“No, it’s dirty,” Arnold said. “Do you understand? It’s been in the pig mud.”

But cries of “eat” began ringing around them as the warriors and other tribe members took up the elder’s order. Spears soon began jabbing at them from all directions, driving them to their hands and knees and poking them mercilessly until Arnold finally grimaced and leaned forward to take a bite of the muddy food.

The place was suddenly silent as everybody watched him intently. Arnold looked around, unnerved by how everybody was watching him expectantly.

After several minutes, the elder finally leaned forward and said, “eat” once more.

The entire tribe took up the cry, and Arnold was again poked and jabbed with spears until he took another bite of the muddy food.

There was a collective gasp, followed by silence. Arnold looked around, swallowing nervously.

“Oh, shit…” Blake said.

Arnold whipped his head around to look at his partner in crime. “What?” he asked.

“Your face,” he whispered.

“What about my face?” Arnold asked, feeling of himself with muddy hands.

He stopped abruptly, feeling how his nose had flattened a little bit.

“What—?” he began helplessly.

“Eat,” someone said, and the tribe took up the cry as spears again poked and prodded him.

He reluctantly leaned forward and took another bite, but about half the food he put into his mouth fell back out. Yet this time the cries for him to eat didn’t stop, and as he was about to lean back up, he felt the spears jab at him again to keep him down. He took another bite and another, and then the crowd fell silent as he cautiously sat back up.

Blake screamed on seeing him and recoiled, scrambling away from him.

“Blake, wh-what’s the matter?” Arnold cried, reaching up to feel his face again. His nose had gotten longer, and now that he thought about it, he could see much more of it than he could before. It was wrinkled and upturned at the end, and it made speaking difficult. He felt his lower jaw thrusting out and his lower canine teeth getting bigger.

“What’s happening?!” he cried, leaping to his feet.

Then he felt it: a lump in the small of his back, pressing against his pants. For a moment, it distracted him so much that he forgot where he was, forgot what was happening, and reached back to feel of it with his hand.

His eyes widened: he felt a spiraled appendage protruding from him. He tried pulling on it to get it to let go, but his mind flooded with pain as he realized that it wasn’t only attached to him; it was him! He yanked his hand from his pants in terror and ran to the elder.

“Please!” he begged, “What’s going on? Make it stop!”

But all the elder said was, “eat.”

Arnold shook his head. “N-no!” he cried. “No, it’s the food, isn’t it? It’s doing this to me!”

But then the spears started again, jabbing, poking, hurting him. He fell to his knees, protecting his head with his arms, but the jabbing continued, stabbing him in the shoulders, the sides, the back, driving him to hunch over in front what was left of what the elder had dropped—now more mud than food—and lean forward to take another bite of it. As he leaned back up, he screamed in terror as he saw his arms shrink before his eyes, growing shorter and shorter until they were no more than about six inches long. He tried to get to his feet, but they, too, were shrinking, and he scrambled desperately through he mud to Blake.

“Help, Blake! Don’t let them do this!” Arnold cried, but his words were mumbled, hard to understand, and mixed with grunts and terrified squeals. Blake retreated from him, pressing himself into a corner as warriors laughed on either side of him, jeering at the men.

Again the elder gave his edict, and again the warriors began jabbing at them. Arnold tried to cover his head, but now his arms wouldn’t move that far. He rushed on all fours back to the food and bit off another piece, desperate to stop the sharp spears that tormented him. In his haste, his clothes all fell off and got trampled in the mud, exposing his white skin and genitals. His belly had grown rounder, and his penis was quickly merging with it to form a sheath. He tried to grab his male hood, but now only cloven hooves terminated his arms where fingers once had been. He squealed in terror and raced around the pen as the tribe laughed at his plight. Suddenly he fell face-first as his testicles grew, moved from the front of his legs between and behind them.

He scrambled to his feet and raced in terrified circles around the pen until one of the larger boars got in front of him and he crashed into him and fell in a heap. To his dismay, the boar turned, opened his mouth, and began charging at him. Arnold squealed in fear and turned to run away as the audience cheered and the boar charged after him. He backed himself into a corner, trembling with fear as the boar bit his side, eliciting a squeal. Satisfied that he’d established his dominance, the boar left him alone and went back to where he had been before the interruption.

“It worse…for you…” the elder said to Blake. “You…coward…eat.”

Al’s mouth started watering the moment he walked into the restaurant. Working all day and not taking time for breakfast or lunch had left him feeling ravenous, and this was his favorite buffet. He liked literally everything on the line, and with an appetite like today’s, he joked to himself that he could probably eat the place completely bare.

The hostess came and took him to his seat. He didn’t even bother to sit down. As the waitress stopped by, he ordered a Coke and went straight to the line.

What should he start with? His stomach growled, making him wince uncomfortably. Eh, he didn’t even want to waste time thinking about it! He went to the nearest line and piled his plate high with roast beef, fried chicken, and a chicken-fried steak with gravy. He took it back to his seat and dug in ravenously, cutting piece after piece of the delicious meats and putting them into his mouth. Sometimes, he didn’t even bother to swallow between bites; he was that hungry.

With his plate now empty, he got up and went back to the lines. Feeling a little more clear-headed, he went to the salad bar and made himself a nice salad with a little lettuce and lots of tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, and a bit of broccoli—just to make his mother proud, rest her soul. With a little ranch dressing—okay, a lot (who was he kidding?), he took the salad back and dug in. He didn’t notice the restaurant workers watching him and speaking in hushed voices as he went by.

The ranch here was among the best he’d ever had. He did like the vegetables he put in the salad, but the dressing was what really made it good. Forkful after forkful of the salad disappeared into his mouth.

The waitress came back with a refill for his drink just as he stood for round three. He nodded appreciatively to her and strode again towards the buffet line, where he heaped mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, broccoli casserole, and some pasta and sauce onto his plate. As he was turning to go, he spied a few slices of his favorite pizza and quickly piled them on top of everything.

He sat down and lifted the first slice of pizza to his mouth. The Canadian bacon and pineapple hit his tongue at the same time as the cheese, sauce, and crust. It was nearly an orgasmic experience. But his hunger was not yet sated, and so he gobbled down the three slices lickety-split and began shoveling the casseroles, pasta, and potatoes down after them. All the food made him thirsty, and he took regular gulps of his soda.

Another trip to the buffet took him to Little China, where he got egg rolls, fried rice, sweet and sour pork, and sesame chicken. When he got back, his drink had been refilled, and his plates had been cleared. He thought to himself how much he appreciated the service here—the staff were always really prompt—and dug in with gusto.

He brought the first forkful to his mouth…and promptly dropped it onto the plate.

Geez, eat much? he chided himself, shaking his head and furtively glancing around to see if anyone had noticed.

Sighing in relief, he scooped up the fried rice and again brought it to his mouth. Once more, it splatted back onto the plate.

What the hell? He shook his head. I must be getting tired or something. Let’s try the spoon.

He scooped up the fried rice a third time, this time using the spoon, and carefully moved it towards his mouth. He winced as the spoon struck the bottom of his nose.

What in the world? He frowned, put the spoon down, and felt of his face.

He gasped. His nose felt way bigger than it ever had before! He leapt up in shock, covering his face as best he could, and ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror.

He yelped in terror as soon as he saw his reflection. Sure enough, his nose had grown much larger, flatter, and rounder. His nostrils had grown, too, into two ellipses roughly centered on his nose. He rubbed his eyes with his fists and blinked.

There’s no way… I look like a…a—

He happened to look down at his hands and saw that his ring and pinky fingers were fusing together, and so were his index and middle fingers.

“Holy shit!” he screamed. “What the fuck is happening to me?!”

“Is everything all right in here? I heard a scream,” a woman said, popping her head in the door.

For just a split-second, it struck Al as really weird that a woman would come into the men’s bathroom, regardless of what she’d heard. But seeing his fingers fusing the way they were quickly made him throw caution to the wind.

“Help!” he cried, falling to his knees. “What’s happening to me?!”

“Oh, dear!” the woman said, stepping inside quickly and locking the door behind her. “You poor thing! Here, drink some water.”

She produced a flask—where on earth did that come from?—and knelt down to bring  it to Al’s lips. Despite his panic—or maybe because of it—he relied on the woman’s kindness and seemingly relaxed attitude to help get him through this…whatever this was. He did his best to drink from the flask, but as much water ended up on the floor as went down his throat.

“It’s okay,” the woman said, seeing Al’s face flush with embarrassment at being unable to do something he’d just been able to do only minutes before. “Just take it slow.”

Something else caught Al’s attention. His pants felt suddenly tight. Really tight. So tight, in fact, that they began to cut off the circulation in his legs. The discomfort was too distracting to ignore, and he shook his head to get the woman to take the water away.

“My…pants…” he panted. “So tight!”

“Just drink!” the woman urged. “It will all be okay. Just drink lots of water.”

Forcing down the uncomfortable feelings, Al willed himself to again take the neck of the flask into his mouth and try to drink down the contents.

The was a sudden, loud rip, and Al immediately felt relieved: his legs didn’t hurt anymore. But when he looked down, he screamed.

Or he thought he did, but what came out was the shriek of a pig!

He tried to scramble to his feet, but unbeknownst to him, his feet had bifurcated into split hooves just like his hands, and they couldn’t get any traction on the tile floor, especially shredded pants under them! His skin had sprouted thin, coarse hair all over, and his legs had grown much shorter, though his arms still remained full-length.

In the commotion, he fell over on his side and couldn’t get himself to stay upright.

“Help me!” he cried, but what came out was a grunt, a squeal, and something that sounded like, “Meeee!”

But despite his panic, the woman remained as calm as ever. She stood and undid her skirt, dropping it on the floor and stepping out of it.

Why…? Al momentarily forgot about his predicament. The woman wore no panties, and something about his new nostrils picked up something very enticing-smelling coming from her. What was it?

His mind fixated on that smell, and he dragged himself over using his arms and scooting his butt on his pants over the floor to her. With her standing, his nose was at crotch-level, and the second he got within a foot of her, his eyes constricted as a blast of pheromones hit him in the face. His arms shot forward to grab her, but they were met with sharp slaps on his knuckles.

“Bad Piggy!” the woman scolded. “Use your snout!”

Snout?! I’m a human! Al briefly thought, but another blast of pheromones made his mind hazy again, and his mouth plunged forward to lap at the woman’s sweet nectar.

“Oh!” the woman cried, taking a step back as Al’s much longer-than-usual tongue slurped into her. His nose—okay, snout—buried itself and began rooting between her folds with such force that it drove her backwards against the wall. Her toes curled in her shoes, knocking them off and leaving her in her stockings. She kicked her shoes aside and panted hard as Al continued to eat her out.

“Oh, good Piggy!” the woman gasped, unbuttoning her top, opening her bra, and throwing both on the ground.

She reached forward and grasped him by the ears to pull him forward, burying his nose even deeper inside of her.

Wait, the ears? A moment of clarity came over Al as he reached up to feel of his head. His hair was gone, replaced by that bristly stuff that had sprouted everywhere else. But most shocking was his ears. They’d moved up his head and grown pointed and leathery.

Al recoiled in terror and again tried to get to his feet. By putting his hands down on the ground, he could get up on all fours, but it was terribly awkward with his arms twice as long as his legs and bent in all the wrong places, and he kept tripping on his shirt as he tried his best to get to the door.

“There, there, Piggy,” the woman said, blocking his path. “Smell.”

She pressed her pussy to his nose, and his eyes constricted again, his mind completely forgetting his plight and focusing single-mindedly on getting to the source of that smell. He lurched forward, but she stepped out of the way just in time, sending him sprawling.

“Come, Piggy,” she said as she lay on her back, stroking her nipples. “Come taste these.”

Al waddled over to her and tried to get to her pussy, but she closed her legs and smacked his head.

“No, Piggy! Not yet!” she scolded, then held up one of her breasts invitingly.

Torn between curiosity and lust, Al hesitated but finally went to her chest and sniffed her upheld breast. She squeezed the nipple, and Al suddenly smelled something new and enticing. His curious snout quickly found her nipple, and he almost bit it before he got whacked on the head again.

“Gentle, Piggy!” the woman ordered. “Use your tongue and suck.”

Although he couldn’t speak, Al somehow understood her. Wanting very much to avoid getting whacked on the head again, he did as told and used his tongue to guide his lips over her nipple. He began to nurse her, and his eyes constricted once more. That taste was good! He redoubled his efforts, sucking stream after stream from the woman’s teat. She, meanwhile, gasped on the floor, rubbing her clit ecstatically.

“Oh, yes, Piggy!” she said, her voice growing higher-pitched. “Yes!”

This went on only a moment longer before she cried out, “Ohh!”

Al stopped.

That. Smell!

Nothing the woman could do now could stop Al. He smelled her orgasmic fluids, and he would have them! He dragged himself around her, and as he did, his arms began to grow shorter and shorter. By the time he’d made it around to her backside, he was walking on four pig hooves and had much better balance, though his traction was still poor, especially with his shirt-sleeves making him slip up.

But he didn’t care about that.

He shoved his nose between the woman’s legs, using his snout to root between them to get to the source of that delicious fluid. The woman cried out, feeling his nose rooting around her sensitive flesh, and squeezed her legs together even tighter, but that didn’t stop Al. As he continued to root, his cock—still human—began to grow erect. She smelled so good—she tasted so good!

Tusks sprouted from his mouth. The woman yelped as one of them dug into her leg.

That was all the opportunity Al needed. He lunged forward, planting his front hooves on either side of the woman’s waist and using his body to keep her legs apart. Then he quickly shuffled forward, walking his penis closer and closer to her. He could feel himself throbbing with anticipation and could feel the slick heat of her sex getting closer and closer.

The second his prick touched her flesh, he gasped as he felt something happen behind him. A tail sprouted from his backside, and at the same time, a sheath grew around his penis, which itself became long and slender, with a corkscrew tip.

Al grunted and panted as he felt his testes slide between his legs and begin to grow. And grow! He felt slightly nauseous as they swelled, pressing against his scrotum and stretching it wider and wider. But as they grew larger, his lust burned hotter, and his corkscrew tip was incredibly sensitive. He could feel every ridge and flap of her pussy, could feel its slickness and heat beckoning him in.

He wasn’t one to argue.

He thrust forward, and the woman squealed as his cock shot out of him and slithered its way into her.

Fuck, this is amazing! Al thought, his mind clouded by the caress of slick, hot flesh pressing all round his fluttering rod as it drove deeper and deeper into her.

“Ohh, yes, Piggy! Yes!” she cried, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

He squealed as he felt the most exquisite flow of her cunt-juices slide down his shaft. He saw stars and felt his mighty balls contract.

Ohhh, he moaned to himself, grunting in pleasure as his own orgasm started. Spurt after spurt flowed out of him, each spurt sending a wave of pleasure rippling from his prick to his balls to his whole body. He felt like his body was wrapped in a warm blanket of pleasure. He could do this all day…

The woman gasped and screamed again as another orgasm ripped through her. Her walls contracted deliciously around Al’s cock, stroking and squeezing him and urging him to keep pumping into her.

I’m…still going? he thought in amazement. This is…wow…

Still he continued to fill her with his porcine spunk, his cock fluttering inside her with each spurt and tempting orgasm after orgasm out of her.

Al grunted. If he’d been capable of facial expressions, he would have scrunched up his face in confusion as he felt something different coming out of his cock. His spunk had been thin and runny, almost like water, but now he felt something thick and viscous coming out. It felt amazing. His eyes half-closed in bliss as he pumped a plug into her.

But all good things must come to an end, including this most wonderful orgasm. Al came to with a start and realized he wasn’t cumming anymore: he was done. He unceremoniously dismounted and went about checking out the bathroom. The woman, meanwhile, slowly got to her feet, completely disheveled but still soaring in the afterglow.

She made it to the door on wobbly legs and unlocked it. The door opened, and a man looked down at Al.

“After all that, you must be hungry, Piggy,” the man said, coaxing Al out and leading him back to the buffet line. “Here, eat!”

Al’s eyes went wide as he rushed over and began eating straight off the buffet tables. He had polished off half the meat line when he suddenly realized that he was standing on the buffet table, naked and on all fours, and very human!

He froze. The place was deserted, save for the woman and the man, who stood at a distance, watching him. He swallowed slowly and climbed down off the table, covering himself.

“Very good performance, Piggy,” the man said, stepping up to him and handing him a set of clothes. “My wife was very pleased. I hope you will come again soon.”

Al’s mouth opened. The man closed it for him and winked. “See you soon, Piggy.”