Jessie had seen and enjoyed so many of Taystie Farm's humanely-sourced products, that when she found out enrollment for it's F.A.R.M. Friends program was now open, it came as a bit of whiplash given how her first reaction was curiosity, piqued interest, and then growing excitement? Though it seemed weird to admit it out loud, she was loyal customer of sorts, buying her meat, egg, and dairy products whenever the supermarket had fresh stocks of this most exclusive brand.

The reason for it's limited supply was no secret though: The packaging always made sure it was front and center knowledge that each "animal" the products came from had once been just like you or me. As besides having it's nutritional info listed, there was a name, age, and photograph featured and focused nearby.

And the fact that those faces always seemed so happy and eager helped to put your own conscious at ease. It was a volunteer-only program after all, one in which the entrants were doing their communities a great service by becoming livestock. The environmental benefits were innumerous of course, eliminating their carbon footprints while reducing both the current and future populations at the same time.

But there was a more immediate and practical effect too, one that came with the inevitable reality that one day your number would be called and you would be sent to the slaughter house, where your whole body would be harvested down to the bone morrow. Skin would became leather, meat becomes meals, fat turns into larder and everything leftover would be ground up into sloppy, edible paste to feed the next class chosen to suffer the same fate. At least nothing would go to waste, right?

Yet despite that, every spot ends up filled, limited though they are. Signing up was also comparatively easy: there were public mail-in boxes opened where ever Taystie Farms' logo could be found on shelves. You fill out a sheet with all your personal information, including your height, weight, and sex, and then you wait. The only catch was that if your application was accepted, your citizenship (and humanity) was immediately revoked. You'd no longer have any rights or protections as your status became as property. Still, the chances of all that happening must have been astronomically low...

Maybe just out as pure curiosity, a joke or whim, or some deep nestled desire to find out what life as farm animal would be like, Jessie put pen to paper and (potentially) signed her life away...but only after profusely checking over her shoulder as she did it. If somebody she knew spotted her, she might have died of embarrassment right then and there...

Folded up and pushing the form through the mail slot, it was all out of her hands at that point. The instructions sign said she can expect an answer in about a week: Either a note informing of her of her new legal status as well as directions to the nearest Taystie Farms Intake Facility, or an denial notice with a few coupons as a form of apology.

Jessie would have liked to say she went about her life like nothing changed afterwards, but truth be told, she couldn't stop daydreaming about the possibilities. And in her free time, she spent almost all of it reading testimonials and watching "Transformation" videos of people making the journey down onto all fours or growing feathers, as well as live-streams that broadcasts the lurid and animal acts that take place around the clock, all shamelessly shown as a form of sexual advertising. And it was working.

But as the week drew to a close, Jessie could feel a sense of disappointment growing, even though she kept telling herself it was actually relief. No way was she actually going to get to join and experience that short-lived lifestyle no matter how fun and inviting it all sounded and seemed. No, she'd go back to her same old boring human routine, living alone and working for pennies at the local Mall-Mart. It's just how fate was...

That is until Monday morning. She should of been out the door to her first shift, but instead a letter at her doorstep left her dead in her tracks. The golden wax seal was all to familiar, and when she ripped it open, she found herself reading the contents over and over again, just to be sure. Her skin felt like it was on fire, and her brow had turned damp in seconds. There was no mistaking it: Her application had been accepted and approved. She was to report, effective immediately, to 776 Rodeo Drive. Everything else would be handled by Taystie Corp's Personal Liquidation Department. All of her belongings would be pawned off for profit or charity and her family would be notified. That was it. That was all.

And though she felt a gaping pit open up inside her stomach, there was an equally sizable weight off her shoulders. She was anxious in the best way as she drove as calmly as she could muster down the interstate, watching as the mile signs trickle by, trying not to take anything for granted now that it was her last time being human. Not the cold coffee or the uncomfortable shoes or all this damn traffic! After what felt like forever, she finally pulled into the designated parking lot and stopped at the marked lines, curbside.

A friendly attendant was waiting there to take her car keys and tell her where to go afterwards. It was all simple and refreshingly straightforward, and everyone she met was quick to tell her she wouldn't have to wait long before she started her new life. Did she really seem so impatient? She was able to laugh off the jitters in time for her photograph, knowing she'd soon look unrecognizable. She didn't smile as wide as she hoped, nor did her eyes meet the camera, but after a single flash, the camera's operator seemed satisfied. She thought she'd be sent to a waiting room before getting a medical exam, but instead, the same man brandished a needle-injector and stepped forward.

"Hold still..."

Jessie was taken by surprise when the camera operator walked forward and jabbed her in the arm with a medical injector, squeezing the trigger before she could so much as yelp, "Wait!" But it was over in a flash, and the man was already gathering his stuff and heading for the exit.

"But what am I even turning into?!" she yelled, arms clutched around her sides, already feeling the mutagenic chemicals running hot through her veins. The man didn't so much as turn his head when he answered her, "You'll see soon enough..." there was a chuckle and then he was gone, leaving her alone in that sparse room, the floors, walls, and ceiling all monotone and washed in cold fluorescent lighting.

The man was right and Jessie wasn't left waiting long. Burning, explosive growth expands through her insides, a side effect of her genome being rewritten on the fly. She can feel the frenzy of rapid change building and building until her body literally swells out, her breasts fattening at an incredible pace, to the point of straining the fabric of her sweater top. Threads of cotton are breaking and nothing seems to stop or slow it down. Her sudden mutation pushed her the very bounds of panic and frenzy, yet she couldn't do much except let it all wash over her.

Her pants start to dip below her waist, as her ass was spilling out from added pounds, layers of rounded meat enmassing at a steady rate. All the while, she tried to hold in her now massive mammaries, but they were too much for her hands to handle, especially once her fingers had all but fused together leaving just two cloven hooves attached to arms that wouldn't bend the way they used to.

And to make matters even more untenable, even while her breasts were still getting bigger, new sets of chubby, milk-rich, titty meat start to bud and grow right below. Two, four, six and then eight! Each hit the size of her original pair in seconds and from there they seemed determined to catch up with the tits on top.

All of this added weight to her chest (and belly) were making it increasingly difficult to stand, and at first, it seemed like that completing padding on her ass and the curling tail that popped up from between her swollen butt-cheeks might provide the balance she needed to maintain her hunched-over, but still standing on two legs, stance.

Unfortunately, her feet had just begun to shift into hooves similar to her hands, giving her the sensation of having them stuffed into ballerina slippers while her heels stretch out and lift up high. Now her weight was being forced almost solely into her conjoined toes, and even though they end with hardened blocks of glossy black keratin, she couldn't bare to withstand the pressures of gravity working against them.

With an oinkish squeal that sounded a bit too authentic for Jessie's tastes, she toppled over and lands on a jiggling pile of her own swollen teats. And with that, it all but sealed what was staring her straight in the (altered) facial features: The fact that she was becoming a pig. She thought the realization should revolt her, that she would curse the day she was made into a slab of bacon, waiting to be baked, but as the mess between her plumped up thighs could attest, she was horribly and sickeningly aroused despite it all.

Her cunny was only getting wetter too as it started to fatten up like the rest of her, her labia-lips turning thicker before they darken and her clit presses out, firm and aroused like a lolling tongue. No amount of disgust or fear could make the passion writhing within her warping sex cool down, not even for a second, as thick, drooling strings of her fragrant piggy juice makes for a sticky, bubble-pocked puddle beneath her.

She could quite plainly (and constantly) see the snout as it frames the bottom half of her vision now, flat and broad, with little tusks pushing out of her over-enlarged lips, making her wonder when they were given botox injections. She could say the same about her asshole too, because even though she couldn't see it directly, she could definitely feel it push and inflate itself to obscene proportions, all puckered and proud, sticking out and refusing to be hidden behind her pork-stuffed assflaps.

Finally, with her clothes utterly destroyed by her uneven growth spurts, left as mere scraps hanging to her ruined body, she can feel the waves of change abate and slowly fade away, giving her an opportunity to try and take stock of what she now was...and was destined to remain. Such evasive and expensive procedures like this weren't made with the idea that they'd ever be reversed.

Nobody was going to shell out the time, money, or the effort to make her human again, not that she ever held that delusion in the first place. Instead, she worked herself up to her four awkward hooves, causing what little remained of her clothes to be shaken off in the process. Now fully naked like an animal should be, it was just in time for a pair of ranch-hands to find her standing there, all ready for transfer.

Weirdly, she smelled them before she saw then, and their arrival made her still human-like skin take on a deeply flustered shade of red. She was understandably still in a state of frazzled confusion, but luckily the ranch-hands were trained for this sort of thing. They gently helped and guided her across the room, letting her learn how to walk waddle at her own pace, never laughing or teasing as her whole body trembled like an earthquake was rattling around inside. Her breasts, or teats rather, never stop bouncing about, knocking off one another even when she "attempts" to stand perfectly still.

She also tried, but couldn't hide, her rampant arousal, but thankfully the two helpers took it all in stride, letting her know that it was all perfectly normal and that she would "Get used to it" soon enough. Jessie seriously doubted that though, especially with how she could feel the very air of the room brushing off her holes, her sensitivity not just high in and around her private bits, but everything, and it's potency for sexual stimulation was off the charts. Suddenly the 24/7 marathon streams of curvy, four-legged bimbos and their huge-dicked counterparts going at it with ceaseless abandon felt a lot more real...and rapidly closer too. But by all accounts, she was going to be an Animal Stream Star whether she wanted to or not.

Eventually, she gathered enough willpower to make it up the ramp and into the back of a large barn trailer, one she was told would transport her and the rest of her latest batch to their new home out in the countryside. The smell within was oppressive, stinking of sex, and once the big-rig got chugging along, the rattling sounds of wheels and steel charging down the highway, the racket drowned out almost everything else. Everyone was settled into their own stalls, unable to see or converse with each other, trapped in what must of been pretty hellish for the claustrophobic, but amid the thundering drone, all she could hear were the fevered calls of beasts driven to the edge of pent up need, screaming, bleating, mooing, oinking and even clucking for something to fuck.

Jessie soon, out of desperation, found herself joining them, and since she never got to see anyone else for more than a passing moment, it wasn't hard to imagine they were all just regular animals, and she had been mistakingly mixed up with the wrong herd. No doubt all the others probably had the same sobering thought, but as far as the REST of the world was concerned, they were all just nameless livestock, one in the same...

The trip was only a few hours, truth be told, but it felt way longer. The smells and sounds, combined with her body's thumping and torrid sex-drive, nearly drove her past the point of sanity. She wondered if this was all intentional, or at least allowed, to better prep, prepare, and even condition those within for the life that lays ahead. Who can say for sure, but Jessie was no doubt pretty damn indebted and grateful when she was finally led out of her holding stall and onto the grey graveled ground out in the open air.

The back of the trailer had gotten quite hot by then, and Jessie was sweating like...well...a pig, so the fresh breeze that greets her porcine flesh (and her bothered bits) was as sweet a kiss as she'll ever get, even if it also served to further highlight her total nudity. There were many more eyes now, as the farm was well-staffed, and many of the managers and even some Taystie Co. Executives were gathered outside to take stock of the new deliveries.

She trots on by, doing her best to keep her head down and eyes forward, but yet she swears she could still feel them watching her trudge along, appraising meat packed on more meat, a walking feast who's weight and worth would one day be rendered in porkchops, ham hocks, and sausage logs. A few peeking glances off to the side all but confirm her fears...and serves to make her throbbing sex drip even more profusely...

But even still, not a soul was ever uncouth or unkind to her or the other "animals", yet there was something unquestioningly different all the same. The way they talked and looked at them it was obvious: because whether from truly believed it or merely used it to cope with their duties, they weren't human anymore in the workers' and their supervisors' eyes. They were just a product. Meat. And it was in everyone's best interests to keep that meat fed, happy and fulfilled, to be pampered even and afforded all the luxuries and care a farm animal could ask for. Jessie knew she and her transformed ilk would have little to complain about.

Or at least she wouldn't until it came time for her flank to be marked by a hot scalding brand! Apparently it was a right of passage, and a way to help her "embrace" her new role and purpose, but the only thing that really mattered is that it was mandatory. Not only did she have to deal with the burning pain coupled with the humiliation of being branded like livestock, but a set of mirrors were arranged to ensure she got a full look at herself.

In the end, it wasn't nearly as bad as she feared it would be, but the distinct scent of crisped bacon that hangs in the air was a little disturbing especially given how good it smelled! "100% Grade A Pork" was certainly no exaggeration, and given this new view of her body, front and back, she felt a stirring of pride she wasn't ready to fully accept. She couldn't deny that she made for a good sow: Large, healthy, a little cute, but definitely well-endowed! She had to have been the envy of every farmer (and the desire of every boar...)

After that, she was led into her own personal pen, which was a lot bigger than she could have hoped for or expected, with plenty of space to roll around in the cool damp mud. It was inside a massive barn, but the roof was semi-open, allowing plenty of fresh air and even some sunlight to trickle in. All things considered, this was like a Five-Star Suite...at least to a pig!

But Jessie wasn't a pig, at least not fully. She was something a little more and somehow also a little lesser too. And with her sex still aching, and there was little she wanted to do more than to find a patch of dirt, a bit of wall, or a protruding part of her barred gate to rub her fat pussy against until she cums...and so she did exactly that. She soon also finds her ass is just as hungry and receptive to pleasure, but even when she was giving both holes ample attention, nothing seemed enough to drive her over the edge.

Before coming here, Jessie had been told the transition wouldn't affect her mental faculties in any drastic way, but in practice, there was no denying she felt a fuzzing fog encapsulate her mind and thoughts. It was there since her animal heat first bared it's ugly head, and the mental haze only got thicker and heavier with time. She didn't lose anything. Jessie was still herself, it's just that her cognitive bandwidth was overloaded with new urges and instincts that pushed their way to the forefront, making her think more urgently of sex and food then anything else.

Her pent up and overbearing sexual frustrations were leaving her exhausted and it felt like there was no end in sight, but right when she was down at her lowest, grunting as she feebly tried to reach a front hoof through a tightly packed ravine of breast-flesh, all so she might manage to even brush it against her cunt, a sharp and beckoning whistle caught her attention...

Freezing up, she turned her snout to spot the source and caught a farmhand opening the gate to her pen in order to let another pig in...but not just any pig...he was a male pig, a boar, and rivaling her both in size and endowment. His curly mop of golden hair pasted between his two floppy ears let her know he wasn't made from ordinary stock either...oh, and the massive slab of salami with a two coconuts on the side he had banging around between his legs. It looked hard and was just what the doctor ordered...

No introduction was asked for or needed. Jessie turned to present her sopping wet rear end and his took the bait without a moment's hesitation, mounting and pushing inside of her squelching cunt while snorting and bellowing his fevered lusts with every labored thrust. And for the rest of the day, they mated like animals, squealing and oinking with pleasured distress until their bodies gave out and they shared in several series of swirling, mutual orgasms, finally bringing the pair the sort of release and relief they so desperately craved...for a few hours at least.

In the early morning, her boar was taken from the pen and she never saw him again without having exchanged names or even a word. Her body thirsted for his return even though she was still pasted in his seed, but alas, she was left to wallow alone in the mud for most of the day before a different boar was introduced for them to play and get their sexual fix.

And though their looks and temperaments always differed from the last, their behavior was as predictably as it comes...not that Jessie had anything bad to say about it. They got right down to business, and she appreciated their single-minded pursuit to claim her pussy and stuff her womb with their hot, greasy pig cream. They never spoke a word that wasn't heavily steeped rutty lust, always just one word or phrase spitting in her ear: "Fuck! Mate! Sexy sow! Breed! Breed!" It was exactly what she wanted, but she could still tell they were lacking in the sapience department, at least on the surface.

And since she could still speak as well as any human good (save for a few involuntary snorts and oinks now and again), eventually she asked one of the stable-boys what the deal was. Apparently the men had a rougher time in their new bodies, having to contend with the sexual appetites of their female counterparts while their own selves ran hot and horny, constantly drenched in the sticky-sweet aroma fertile pork cunts.

This crazed mating frenzy was probably also worsened by the sad fact that the males were always first on the chopping block; each boar was allowed one turn, maybe two, with every sow in the barn. And once they had shot their liquid genes and emptied the tank, hopefully some of it has taken root because almost right after they were systematically gutted, cleaned, and ground up to make ready-to-grill hotdogs. (Remember that each pack of Taystie Farms 100% Former-Human Pork Franks are individualized so no two franks come from the same pig! Talk about variety!)

None of this should have been surprising, but it did lend Jessie a certain added appreciation and understanding for her boarish mates, knowing the short lives that lay ahead, she did everything in her power to make their time together something worthy to die for...literally!~

---

And so the routine stayed more or less the same. She had her own food and water troughs that were filled each morning. She ate and did her toilet as she pleased, which was as uncomfortable as it sounds at first, but soon became second nature, even oddly liberating in a way. She rolled about in the mud and filth, basked nude, and (tried) to masturbate while she waited for a male to be led inside so they could trade fluids in a flood of horny gratification.

So all in all. Jessie adapted to her new life faster than she could have ever expected or dreamed. Her days were simple, even carefree for the most part. She didn't seem the mind the lack of variety in her daily routine given the rapturous highs that peak each day without fail

Really the only thing that marked the progress of days besides her ever-rotating supply of sex-crazed mates were the pregnancies that came with them. As a meat-sow, her oven was made to be stuffed full of baking buns pretty much year round. Always having some amount of gravidness was the norm for her now, and the genetically-enhanced qualities of mother and father meant she gave birth to hefty litters at least once every month.



It was an experience like no other; Procreating at a dizzying rate, giving birth to so many young. It was so pleasurable and satisfying, that after her every delivery, she was already lusting to get started on the next batch. The only downside was how limited her time was with her newborn piglets. As befitting her progeny, they came out hyper-developed and sexually mature, and so she only got to spend a day or two grooming and feeding her babies before someone came to collect them.

But if her own life here on the farm was any indication, they'd be well taken care of, and so she had little to fear. In fact, all the initial trepidation about her (and her childrens') eventual fate had faded away completely. All her worries from before seemed so distant and silly. So what if on some random day she'd be bled, butchered, skinned, and sliced up? She was a pig, and that is what pigs are for. Frankly, to NOT have her body harvested for all it's meat and worth seemed outright offensive, an insult to all swine-kind!

And what was death anyway when she had milked so much joy from her new life here on the farm while helping to bring so much NEW life into this world as well? It seemed a small price to pay for a ticket to pastoral animal bliss, one she was happy to give once her time was up...





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Incredible art by the one and only https://www.furaffinity.net/user/tobyart Nobody does it better! ????????

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