[vended]

I hate the idea of these stories getting lost, so here's some repost now that they can't be properly found on a website.

"Yikes, fourteen new friend requests? Really?" Jean muttered internally to herself as she glanced over her profile. "Do I even know half of these people?"

To be honest, Jean wasn't really into the whole "social networking" thing. Truth be told, she wouldn't even have a profile if it weren't for one or two people that she wanted to stay in touch with. Well mostly, just one.

Jason Mitchell. She'd been carrying a torch for him since high school. He'd always been friendly to her, but never seemed interested romantically. And she was too conservative to make a move on him. Now, he was living halfway across the country, while she was still stuck in the same town where they'd gone to school. If it wasn't for the internet, she'd have lost contact with him long ago. This way, she could still talk with him a bit, even if it was just superficial "chat" banter. At least it gave her something to look forward to, a little spark of hope that maybe something could still happen. The fact that his relationship status was still marked as "single" certainly contributed to keeping that fantasy alive, far fetched as it might be.

She had logged on just now mainly to check up on him. Maybe there'd be a new status update? Perhaps an updated profile picture, those always made her heart skip a little. Or, it might be the words she dreaded to read: "Jason Mitchell is now in a relationship with..." She just knew that was coming. Still, she wanted to know if it happened.

Jean didn't see anything about him though, just a series of friend requests from people she barely remembered. She scrolled through the list, trying to figure out why these people wanted to friend her.

"Lindsay Redmond? She tried to tear my hair out! Is she kidding? Geez, these people didn't even like me when I knew them!" At least nine of the fourteen requests were from people Jean could have sworn hated her guts in high school.

She perused the list of names, deciding on each one individually. "Mmmkay, ignore... ignore... ignore... hmmm, guess I can accept her, she was kinda nice... ignore... ignore... oh crap, I work with them, better accept that one... ignore... wait, I thought I friended her already?" On down the list she went, accepting only a select few, while sentencing others to the void of "ignore" for all eternity.

"Ignore... ignore... ign... wait, what the heck is that?" The final name on the list stuck out as unusual, halting her ignore marathon. Just what was so strange about it? Well, for one thing, it wasn't really a name.

"Life Changers Re..." The rest of the name was truncated by the size of the window.

"Hmmm, wonder what that is? One of those social groups, I guess. Looks like some religious organization, maybe..." Out of simple curiosity, Jean decided to click the profile name, just to see what they were about.

Her aim was just a tad bit off. What she intended as a click on the profile name, ended up being just a little bit below it. Right smack-dab on the "Accept Request" button.

"Ah, dang it!' Jean spat, annoyed that she'd made such a simple mistake. She didn't even know who these people were, but now her profile was going to plaster her apparent acceptance of their beliefs all over everyone else's wall. What if these people were some kind of creepy cultists or zealous nutjobs? That was gonna look real good.

"Crap, who the heck are these people anyway?" Repositioning her mouse, she clicked again, this time making sure she was directly on the link she wanted. Now she could see who she'd just accepted.

"Life Changers Reassignment Center: Assigning our clients roles and forms to better suit their true needs and desires."

"Oooookay... what?" She scanned the page, trying to see what exactly this was about. There wasn't really any more info to be found, though. The banner at the top of the page simply displayed a variety of farmyard animals. Cows, horses, pigs, a couple of donkeys, more cows. Below that, a standard activity feed showcasing all the people who had joined. But nothing offering an explanation. The “About” tab simply repeated the same tag line she'd already seen.

"Ugh... I don't get it, where do I 'unfriend?'" She looked the screen over, trying to see how to untangle herself from whatever nonsense this page was promoting.

“Weird, all the people in this group have animals for profile pics... Why are those two wearing clothes? Ugh, whatever...”

The little "blip" from her laptop's speaker startled her from the task, however. She'd just received a PM.

Jean's heart skipped a beat. There weren't a lot of people that she interacted with over the net. Usually, anyone she was in touch with via social networking was also someone she talked to on a regular basis face to face. But there was that slim chance that maybe, just maybe, Jason had decided to say hello.

The strange social group she'd just stumbled into faded from her thoughts as she considered the possibility. It wasn't very likely, she knew. Clicking on her inbox was bound to lead to disappointment. Jason usually didn't message her just out of the blue. The few times they'd talked on here, she'd been the one to initiate the conversation. And she hadn't tried that in a while, for fear of coming across as needy. She wanted him to talk to her because he wanted to, not because she bugged him until he responded.

She inched the mouse toward her inbox, hoping dearly for what she knew was probably not there. Once she finally clicked, she wasn't surprised to see that she was right. It wasn't Jason. She was, however, surprised to see who the message actually was from.

"You have 1 new message from: Life Changers Reassignment Center."

"Aargh..." Jean groaned in aggravation. Clicking "accept" must have triggered some kind of automated response.

"What the heck do these people want? Gettin' my hopes up..."

With nothing better to do, she figured she might as well read the message. Maybe it would at least give more of an explanation regarding what this group was about. More than the profile page, at least.

"Hello Jean Simpson! Thank you for accepting our invitation to the Life Changers Reassignment Program. We have evaluated your profile, and determined that you indeed are a perfect candidate for our services. We are happy to have you as one of our clients, and look forward to bringing you fulfillment and joy in your new form, just as we have previously for these satisfied clients!"

She scrolled down, only to see the same batch of animal themed profiles she'd seen on the activity feed. "What the f...?"

The message continued on. "If these former ladies and gentlemen could still vocalize their experiences, we're certain they would have nothing but glowing testimonials of how our service met their needs. Even needs they didn't think they had! And we're pleased to bring YOU that very same satisfaction TODAY! We have carefully reviewed your profile, and selected a form specifically for you. We understand the transition may be a bit jarring at first, but we just know you are going to love the end result! Congratulations, and welcome to your brand new life!"

She stared blankly at the peculiar message, trying to make sense of what she'd just read. The implication seemed fairly obvious, now that she thought of it. "So... it's an entire social network group about... turning people into animals? Okay, what the heck are they bugging me for? That's not my kind of kink..."

Jean had heard about this stuff, to some degree. "Furries" people called them. People who liked to act and dress like animals. This had to be something to do with that. She didn't know much about this particular fetish, and didn't really care to. If that's what some people liked, fine. But it certainly wasn't for her.

Unfortunately, that's exactly what everyone was going to think now. "Oh crap, I'm gonna look like a perv!" Feeling something of a panic, Jean closed her inbox and clicked back to her main profile page. And sure enough, there it was.

"Jean Simpson is now a member of Life Changers Reassignment Center."

"Oh, god, you've got to be kidding!" Yep, right there on her timeline page, for all to see. "Damn it, where's the button to leave or unfriend, or whatever! Shit, I hate this social crap! Should have never gotten started... wait, what the hell?"

She took a closer look at her profile. There wasn't just a new timeline update, something else had changed. Her profile picture was different.

It was supposed to be that photo her friend Nicole had snapped, the one of Jean sitting modestly on a park bench. But that wasn't it at all. In place of her photo, there was instead a cartoonish drawing of a pig. Beneath it, Jean could clearly read the words "Pig to be."

"What the hell happened to my picture?!" Jean shouted out. Responding purely out of reflex, Jean immediately went to reset her picture. She clicked the profile photos album, planning to restore the image she had chosen. Except it wasn't there. Just the cartoony "Pig to be" image. Well that, and a little bit of new text below it.

"Hi there! We apologize, but the current profile image chosen by this member has been deemed inaccurate by our staff, seeing as how she will soon cease to hold a human form. Once her transition is complete, we'll be sure to update her profile with a much more accurate image!"

Her fear of looking like a pervert suddenly morphed into an even bigger dread. Somehow, it seemed her profile had been hacked.

"Damn it, I don't need this!" She yelled, trying to wrap her head around the situation. It must have happened when she accidentally clicked accept. There was probably a virus attached to that request somehow. She didn't know exactly how these things worked, but that was the only way someone could have gotten into her profile. And if they'd managed to compromise this, they may have compromised her whole computer.

"Shit, why didn't my antivirus catch this?! I know I just updated!" She was just about to run a scan, hoping to nail whatever these creeps had infected her with, when she caught sight of another change.

"Jean Simpson's relationship status had been updated."

"Oh hell, what did they do now?" She almost didn't want to know, but couldn't resist the temptation to see for herself. Bracing herself for more embarrassment, she clicked the "About" tab on her profile for a closer look.

"Jean Simpson."
"Birthday: June 5th"
"Gender: Female"
"Interested In: Male Pigs"
"Relationship Status: Breeding Sow for Male Pigs"

She stared slack-jawed as she read over the changes to her profile, mortified. "Oh my god, these people are freaking perverts! What the hell are they... do... uh... uuhhh!"

Her rant was cut short by a sudden gasp for air, as her eyes settled on an unexpected image. Her mouse had inadvertently hovered over the term "Male Pigs." Which, as it just so happened, was actually a hyperlink to another page. A thumbnail preview popped up. And not surprisingly, it was an image of just what the link said it was. A male pig.

Something sparked in the pit of her stomach as her eyes settled on the form in the picture. A tense, churning warmth that stole her breath and caught her completely off guard with it's sheer power.

"Uuggh... what...?"

She was so caught up in the unexpected sensations, she didn't spot the new notification beneath the image until several long seconds after it appeared: "Jean Simpson likes this."

"Wha...? Wait... no... I didn't... click... uuuhhhh..."

Her eyes glazed over as she found herself completely fixated on the thumbnail image. Her chest began to heave up and down as her heart began to pound. Her cheeks flushed a deep, telling shade of red.

She hardly noticed the cramp building in both of her hands as she sat unnaturally still. The unexpected, unbidden heat building between her legs had taken her by storm with such force, there was nothing she could have done to fend it off. Her hand still gripped the mouse as her mind spaced out. With an almost involuntary twitch, her finger clicked the link, taking her to the full profile page for "male pigs." She was only vaguely aware of the stiffness creeping into her fingers as she clicked.

Her breath hitched as a fresh wave of arousal washed over her. A much higher-resolution image of the profile picture loaded on her screen, revealing detail she couldn't see in the much smaller thumbnail. She found her gaze drifting over the animal's body, her thoughts clouded by basic primal needs the likes of which she'd never known or even thought possible.

"Uuhh... ooooh..." She moaned, shifting uncomfortably in her desk chair. Mostly from uncontrollable lust, but also from the slight discomfort just above her shapely rear-end.

"Uuuh... huuhh..." She leaned closer to the monitor, oblivious to the bit of saliva dribbling from the corner of her mouth. She was somewhat more aware of the moisture pooling between her legs, though the sensation only served to heighten her arousal and send her mind further into the stratosphere.

"Uuh..." Her body tensed, a warm tingle settling over her skin. Her nipples stiffened from the sensation, pressing gently against her bra.

"Oooh... oorrr..." She hardly noticed the slight fluctuation in her voice, her attention still fixed firmly on the screen. Her legs began to tremble, the carnal lust starting to boil over...

"Ooohh... uurrr... urrreeeEEEEAAA!"

Without warning, a deep, grunting squeal burst from her mouth, just as her hips gave a compulsive, firm thrust against her chair.

Her eyes widened in sudden confusion. The sound of her own voice shook her addled mind from the fog she'd fallen into. She stared at the screen for a moment, dazed as she struggled to focus... and then, realization.

Jean had just fallen into a total sexual frenzy... while viewing the photo of a dirty, filthy pig.

“Uugh.... oh, god... what... huurrrreeeeeah?!” She couldn't even finish the sentence. Even as awareness returned, Jean found her gaze inexplicably drawn to the beast on her monitor.

“Oh god... what the hell... happened... uureeea!” She tried to choke back the sound... “Why do I keep doing that?!”

She kept staring, her hand gripping the mouse, trying to will herself to look away. “Stop it! Stop it! What the fuck are you doing Jean?! It a PIG! A damn... oohh, god... why does it look so...”

“Urrree... uuuueeeeeea!” She couldn't contain the squeal... nor could she help but notice an odd, uncharacteristic pitch in her voice. And yet still, she continued to stare at the image... something drawing her... her legs began to shake from a lust she'd never known before. Even Jason had never triggered such wanton thoughts.

“Close it! Close the damn browser Jean! Just... fucking... close it...”

Summoning all her will, Jean steadily moved the pointer to the upper left corner. Her eyes drifted back and forth between the filthy animal and that little red x.

“Click it... just click it!”

With a strange grunt, she finally made her finger do the job. The image vanished from her screen, replaced with her far less enticing kitten desktop background.

For a moment, she just sat there, trying to collect herself... trying to understand what she was doing.

“I'm... my god... that's... that's just... gross! God, I'm a pervert! It's an animal, a damn animal! How... how could I possibly want...”

An yet an involuntary shudder passed through her again as she imagined what she wanted...

“Oh my god... I can't... I can't believe that happened... I've never been into anything like that... Why... damn it, what the hell am I sitting on?!

Her internal dialogue was interrupted by an aggrivating feeling on her rear end. It felt like the chair was poking her butt-bone. Or something on her pants maybe. She reached back to adjust whatever it was, brushing off the tension in her fingers... yeah, it was something in her clothes... something thin, but curled up...

“What the hell... it's stuck to me... how did...?”

The color drained from Jean's face. She tugged on it... but couldn't accept it.

“ No way... no... fucking... way...”

It couldn't be what she thought. Her heart began to pound... from fear, but lingering arousal as well. She remembered what the hacker had implied... that she was somehow being “reassigned” as an animal. A pig.

She continued fiddling with the strange growth. She needed to convince herself it wasn't what it felt like... that what she suddenly feared wasn't happening. But she couldn't help it... this new growth... the unexplained attraction she'd never felt before, and was still fighting off... when she put those together...

“No... no, that's crazy... there's no waerrrreeeeaaa...! Oh god!”

Her body went cold at the sound. She jerked her hand to her throat reflexively, as if touching it would fix her voice. “Stop doing that! Please, just stoo....rreeeeaaa!”

Her voice cracked and pitched unevenly. She clamped her hands over her mouth, whimpering, afraid to try and speak again.

“Oh god! Why? How...? This can't be possible! Why would someone do this?! HOW can they do this?! This kind of shit's not real! It can't be!”

Her fingers clenched and cramped suddenly, sending strange tingles up her arm. She pulled her hands from her mouth, the sensation causing her to ball them up for a moment. And when she looked at them, she realized there was no denying what she'd feared.

The nails on her fingers had discolored, darkening. But worse, the fingers themselves had changed... no, they WERE changing, right in front of her eyes. The individual digits were thickening, stiffening in the process. And the nails seemed to be spreading.

“Oh... oh my god no... NO! NOOOUUUURRRREEEEEAAA!”

Jean jumped to her feet, sending the desk chair rolling backwards. She stared in dumbfounded shock at her slowly shifting hands. The sound of her own voice didn't help matters any.

“No, please stop! Whoever... Whatever's doing this, please stop... pleeaaaaaaaa... please just stoouuueep!”

If anyone or anything was listening, they gave her pleas no heed. Instead, her fingers continued to alter themselves... not just thickening, but now diminishing in length. It was slow... but it was happening. She wiggled them in desperation, and found that her middle and index fingers would now only move together as one. Likewise for her ring and pinky fingers.

“Nooo... uuurr... hhhccccctht!”

Without intending to, she took a sudden sharp breath through her nose... and made the most obnoxious snort she'd ever heard.

Her eyes bugged out... the sound was all too close to the animal she'd just seen on her computer a few moments ago. The animal she was becoming...

Her unintentional snort had drawn her attention to her nose, where she was suddenly, keenly aware of a building sense of pressure. It felt like someone was squishing her nose back. Not painfully... in fact, so far, she'd felt little more than tingling or slight cramping from her changes.

Cautiously, she reached up to her face with a shifting hand... touched her nose gently... a cold chill ran down her spine at the sensation of her nose, upturning beneath her touch.

She jerked her hand away with another squeal and snort, her heart pounding like a jackhammer.

“Oh god! How do I stop this! I can't become a pig! There's still so much... HUMAN stuff I want to do! I can't be a pig! How do I...?

An idea flashed through her mind. It was a longshot, but it was all she could think to try.

“That profile page! This all started when I accidentally clicked that shit! I have to 'unlike' or 'unfriend' or whatever the fuck I have to do! It was an accidental click, for god's sake!”

She leaned over her computer desk, not bothering to pull the desk chair back in place. No time for that, she had no idea how long she had before she lost the use of her hands. It was already getting harder to grip the mouse. Her fingers were still usable, but losing functionality.

She reopened her browser, navigating awkwardly back to her profile page. She could feel her toes, tingling and cramping in her socks as she stood. “Can't worry about that... gotta undo this...”

The cartoonish pig in her new profile picture stared back mockingly as the page loaded up. And apparently, her online pals had already taken quite an interest in her most recent updates. In the brief time she'd been offline, she'd already received a number of comments on the photo. And strangely, seven likes.

“Lori Parker: LOL!! Breeding sow? WTF?”

“Greg Sanders: Damn girl. You drunk?”

“Rachel Bronson: Oh damn, you got hacked.”

“Sarah Richards: ROFL! You lost a bet right?”

Even Jean's mom had already taken notice.

“Sandra Simpson: Ummm... do you need to talk?”

“Damn it... can't worry about them right now... now how do I...”

Another comment popped up on her feed. This time... it was him.

“Jason Mitchell: LOL! So this is like that game where people change their pictures to giraffes or what?”

“Oh god... of all the times for him to notice me...”

She'd have to clean this mess up later... after she got full use of her fingers back. She scrolled down... passed the “male pig” thumbnail...

“Uuurreoooaaa...”

Pushing the hot, warm ache aside, she continued scrolling down. The next item down on her activity feed... “Jean Simpson joined Life Changers Reassignment Center.”

She hastily clicked the link, trying to ignore banner at the top. At least one of the pigs in the picture was a male.

“Okay, there's gotta be a button here somewhere. 'Leave group' or something...”

She visually scanned the page, but found nothing useful right away. She scrolled down passed the photos, giving the page a more thorough examination this time around. All she could find was the groups activity feed... and her own name mixed within it.

“Jean Simpson joined: 6:43 P.M.”

“Jean Simpson was added to the group Porcine: 6:44 P.M.”

The innocent little pig jpeg accompanied both disgusting comments, fueling Jean's hatred for this... whatever the hell this place was. She despised these freaks for what they were doing... and judging by their activity, she probably wasn't the only one.

There were a series of names below her own... she didn't bother to count how many. Various male and female names, with a variety of different farm animals for pictures. Unlike her, their profile pics were actual animals, not silly caricatures. Many looked like perfectly normal animals; some here and there were draped in bits and pieces of random clothing. Most of them were donkeys, cows, horses, and of course, more pigs... she had to advert her eyes from certain ones that were clearly males, cramming down an urge to focus solely on those profiles. There were also a couple of goats, and at least one chicken thrown in for good measure.

“Congratulations to Carrie Donovan, the first member of our 'Hen' community!”

“I'm sure she's thrilled, assholes...”

Above Jean's name, at least three more had been added, sporting silly images like hers: two were goofy looking horses, while the other was a cow with an exaggerated udder.“Wonder if they clicked by accident too... god I can't believe I did that...”

Something was wrong in her mouth. Her teeth suddenly felt like they were bulging, pressure building as they pushed against the inside of her lips. Her ears were starting to tingle as well. A warm, tugging sensation settled over them...

“Oh ssssthit...” Her tongue felt thicker than it should have been. She had to hurry...

“God damn it, where's the button?!”

There was nothing... at least nothing she could see. It didn't make sense... any normal group would have a button to remove it! But then, this obviously wasn't a normal group...

“Maybe... maybe I can message them! I'll tell them to remove me, and stop this shit!”

The mouse was getting more awkward... “Oh shit, my fingers... they're stuck together!!”

While she was busy surfing, her fingers had begun the process of fusing... degenerating further into the cloven trotters of a common sow. It was getting harder to bend them.

“Okay, okay, calm down... just focus...” She moved the pointer to the message box... selected “Life Changers Reassignment Center” as her recipient... and prepared to type “I want out!” in the subject line.

“Subject: (*IO2eqw0ok”

“Oh... ffffthuck...”

Her fingers... they way they'd melded together, they were too thick for the keyboard now. She couldn't hit a letter key without mashing all the keys around it!

“Nhoooeeaaa...!”

“Oh god, I can't type! What the hell am I supposed to do...?”

Leaning unsteadily over her desk, Jean closed the message box and returned to the group's main page. In a frenzy now, she haphazardly waved the pointer all over the screen... scrolling down then back up.... one side of the screen to the other. She was desperate... there had to be something she could click to make this stop!

“Plheeeaaase... I jhutht want oueeeat...”

She scrolled back to the top, her shaky, malformed hands losing their grip on the mouse. She now essentially had two fat, stiff fingers and a thumb on each had. Her nails had darkened to a dirty brown color, and were slowly spreading, encasing the tips of her new extremities in a solid mass.

She tried to take some deep breaths to steady herself... resulting in several distinct, unintentional snorts.

A new name popped up on the activity feed, but Jean was more concerned with... wait a second, it couldn't be...

“Jason Mitchell has joined Life Changers Reassignment Center”

“... … … WHAT?!?!”

She couldn't believe it, they got him too! He must have clicked into it from her activity feed...

“Oh my god, Jason... this is all my fault...”

She mashed the mouse with her devolving hand, not even sure what she was trying to click anymore. Nothing seemed to help anyway. Her fumbling wound up landing her back at her own message inbox... where she found another surprise waiting.

“One new message from: Jason Mitchell.”

“Subject: Weird Group!”

“Hey Jean, it's been a while. I was bored, and just thought I'd check out that new group you joined. Couldn't help notice your relationship status... I was like, whoa! Lot of stuff on their about breeding and whatever. So is it like a kinky role-play group or something? It's cool if that's what you like, you always just seemed so reserved. But hey, if that's what you're into, I think it's great that you're open with it! Anyway, I'll be in town visiting my parents next week, maybe we can hang out or something? TTYL!”

“Ugh... what the hell...”

Jean blinked her eyes, trying to understand what she had read. It wasn't really Jason's message that confused her, though. It was the actual words themselves.

She shook her head, trying to clear her vision. The words were all running together. She tried reading again... somehow, it just wasn't getting through...

“HyJena, itb'seenwahile. Iaws brode...”

“Uurrrgh... uurreeo...” She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut to make herself focus. Why the hell couldn't she make it out? It had started off making sense, but now... it was getting all jumbled.

She tried again... but now, it was worse than jumbled. The letters were virtually unrecognizable... just meaningless shapes.

“What the hell... are they still fucking with my computer... damn, they must be trying to keep me from finding a way...”

Her cell phone sprang to life on the desk beside her monitor. She glanced down to see her mom's picture on the screen.

“Dang it mom, I don't have time to explain it now... wait what?”

It was definitely her mom, she could tell from the picture... but that's all she could recognize. The name below the picture should have clearly said “Sandra Simpson,” yet it was just a blurry smudge of nonsense. As was the number... the same number her mom had since Jean was a kid... she knew it by heart even without it being in her contact list...

“Three Eight Four... Seven Four Two... Eight Three Two Nine...”

She blinked again, feeling strangely befuddled. Something wasn't right. The number... she could remember the words... but couldn't picture the actual numbers themselves. What the hell did a 'three' or 'seven' look like? Why couldn't she...?

“Oh god... please no...”

With sudden realization, she looked frantically around her room... at anything and everything. Posters... books... CD's... DVD's... clothes with writing... nothing. She couldn't wrap her mind around the strange symbols on any of them... things she'd understood so clearly just minutes ago.

Her mind was degenerating, just like the rest of her.

“NOOOOUURRRREEEEEEAAAA!!!

“NO! NO NO NO! I can't let this... can't become some... thing...

She began to feel light headed. She was losing herself... now her thoughts were getting muddled.

“Oh god... please... I can't... don't let this... pig...”

She braced against the desk, clenching her eyes shut. trying to pull herself together. A haze was falling over her... but worse, something else was forcing it's way into her thoughts.

Males. Thoughts of male pigs lingered in her mind. And as her thought processes became increasingly confused, the will to push the images aside began to crumble.

“Uurrreeaaa... orrrrhhh... goorrreeed... hhhhccckth!”

Her legs trembled, her knees ready to give out from both desire and... something else. Her whole body buzzed, warm numbness settling in... something intense was coming...

The ache between her legs became a tingling throb... her eyes snapped open, her jaw dropped. She took a deep, stuttering gasp, her back bowing up... and she could only groan, as the sensation of imminent change gripped the most delicate parts of her body.

“Urrreeaa... OrrggggrreeeeeaaAAAA!”

The hot, writhing pulse of transformation seemed to work it's way up within her body, mingling with her already overcharged sexuality and pushing her to heights she'd never dreamed about.

She tried desperately to hold back the tide, to remember why she couldn't want this, even as the most intense thrills shot through her body. The feeling traveled further... deeper into her. It moved into her belly, ripples of pleasure churning up and down her abdomen, like a million butterflies swirling in her stomach.

She gripped her belly with one hand... or what was left of it, at least... bracing against the computer desk with the other. She could feel the skin of her torso writhing against her touch beneath the pink and red striped shirt she wore.

“Uurrrr... hurrr... urreagh... hurrrh...”

She could feel them, budding from her sensitive body, pressing against the material of her shirt. The shock of understanding cleared her foggy mind a bit... her struggling human side was mortified, even as something else cried out in glee.

“Oh... god... I'm growing... teats...?”

Something new entered her thoughts, almost as overpowering as the lust assaulting her. A base, maternal instinct flared from deep within. Thoughts of her own young... nourishing... suckling from her. A spring of primal yearning gushed within her... the drive to realize such a life had gripped her very soul.

With grim but faltering determination, Jean forced the urges back, her human mind unwilling to accept this as her fate. A part of her still begged for this to stop, yet she was powerless as the sensation pressed on and up, spawning a total of six sensitive teats along her torso.

It moved further still... her firm, voluptuous breasts now bubbling with sensation. She felt them squirming, moving against the cups of her lacy bra. She raised her hand up her abdomen, brushing each of her new mammaries in morbid curiosity... and unexpected delight... then pressed her hand/hoof against one sensitive, shifting mound. She could feel it squeezing... almost melting, as some overpowering force sought to mold them into a form more befitting of a sow.

Her humanity revolted, or tried as best as it was able. As she cupped her gradually dwindling breast, her thoughts turned back to Jason. So many lonely nights... she'd imagined him caressing them, kissing them... playfully squeezing as he teased her nipples. She'd always held out hope, but now... how could that ever be...?

“.... No... Jason...”

She glanced back at the monitor... was he going through this too now? Her heart sank at the thought... he didn't deserve this... not him...

Her mind could make out very little on the screen in front of her. The words and symbols were all but useless to the beast she was becoming. She could still make out pictures, to a diminishing degree. She looked back at Jason's now incomprehensible message... his profile pic had changed.

It was like hers now, another stupid little cartoon pig. It was true... he was being changed just like her... soon he'd be... a pig... a mate...

Her body lurched with need, the nearly-formed hoof upon her breast dropping to the desk for support. The reminder of potential mates seemed to feed the change. A fresh wave of beastial craving surged throughout her being. The sensation of change stirred, burrowing deeper into the intimate places it had touched moments before. Her will had impeded it as well as it was able. Yet the force behind this power was inexhaustible and unrelenting... and Jean's resolve was not.

Sensing her resistance, the force of change pushed on, looking for it's opening to score the winning hit. It found a perfect opportunity in Jean's own struggling consciousness, forcing the thought into her mind at just the perfect moment.

Her eyes bulged, a low, garbled groan erupting from her throat. From the deepest depths of her core, an instinctive craving filled her. Something she'd been holding back... but now it forced it's way beyond her fragile barriers.

She imagined her potential mates... in her mind, she'd been pushing away, forcing them out, trying to ignore the cravings they called forth. But now, she shook... her human revulsion wavering...

In her mind, she turned away... pointing her back end to the male... not even thinking, just knowing it was right...

Her dripping sex throbbed and spasmed, responding to the image with thundering approval. She tried to force it back, but the genie had been uncorked. This wasn't a matter of thought or principal... it was simply time to breed... she was female, he was male... there was no denying what must happen...

Her back arched as her pulsing sex heaved and flexed. Tension gripped her slick canal... and she knew... there was no turning back.

“Urrrghth... Nhrrooo... I... iieeaa... jhussth... I jhusssth...” Her addled, hazey mind made a last ditch effort to fight her humbling fate. In desperation, Jean pushed off from the desk and turned away, shambling awkwardly towards her bedroom door. Where she was going, or what she was trying to accomplish, she couldn't say. It was simply fight or flight... and fight wasn't working...

“Iurreeaa... Iiiee... jhust.... warrrnted... turrr... keeeeaap, in touurrrrch...”

She took only a few steps... her feet felt completely wrong within her socks... she could hardly balance.

Her reflection in the bedroom mirror caught her eye. Her face was barely recognizable, her nose upturned and thick. She hadn't realized, but she was gaining weight, her features puffier than they'd been before. Her teeth were poking from beneath her lips, far too big for the still somewhat human mouth they filled. A light, pink fuzz was creeping up her neck from beneath the collar of her shirt... amidst the tingling warmth and primal cravings, she hadn't even noticed it sprouting from her skin.

She dropped her gaze to her hands... the fuzz was peeking out from beneath the sleeve of her shirt just above her wrist now. Her fingers had almost hardened completely, her thumbs shrinking away to near uselessness. Her delicate hands were gone, replaced with grimy, cloven hooves.

Her chest writhed and squirmed, and she watched in horrid fascination as the outline of her breasts continued to diminish. She glanced back at the mirror, and could see her newer teats pressing against her shirt. Her original breasts were slightly larger... but were now little more than oversized versions of the others. Soon, there would be little remnant of this distinctive feature.

Her body heaved again, her knees almost buckling then and there. She sensed the change coming to her nethers, and gripped her thighs together, in a futile attempt to stave off what she knew she couldn't fight.

“Uuuregh... I jhuuusth... warrrnted... torrr keeeaaap... in tooourrch wirrrrth... Jaeee... Jaaaeeeee... JasoorrrreeeeeEEEAAAAA!!!”

With a massive jolt, her wet, dripping center tensed and flexed... then, with a sensation she could have never before fathomed... it began to shift and writhe... shrinking within her... pushing further back to a position less suitable for men, and more suitable for beasts.

“URREEEEAAAAA!!!” She toppled to the floor, her legs finally giving out under the onslaught. On hands and knees, she grunted and groaned as her most sensitive regions finally succumbed.

Amid the storm of sensation and beastial desire, the last vestiges of Jean's resistance finally lost their grip. She cried out in a primal squeal, trying to recall whatever it was... something she wanted... or didn't...

I'm a humwan... howam... … woham...”

Human woman. That's what her mind was fumbling for. Yet even as she struggled, the images, thoughts, and words drifted from her awareness as the burning need between her legs claimed her full attention. She couldn't hold to whatever it was... her body cried out for a mate... she needed one... now...

“URRREEEEAAA!!! Urrrruggheeeeeaa! Hcchtttth!”

As her mind caved in, her body continued to squirm with the last stages of her change. Her jaw and nose pushed forth from her face, while her hair began receding into her scalp. As it did, it faded from her normal reddish brown to the same simple pink as the new fuzz she had grown. Her arms and legs shrank and stretched to new proportions, causing her to momentarily lose her balance. She recovered, and scrambled to all fours, her feet tearing through her socks in the process.

Her clothing tightened around her, causing her jeans to slide down her thickening rump. Her tail... the first sign of her eventual fate... finally poked out into the light of day just above her stretched out and exposed panties. Her bra and shirt were pulled taught over her body. Jean's new girth was not enough to tear the clothes, but they could no longer properly fit her altered frame.

She squealed and groaned, trying to free herself from the now uncomfortable garments, even as she still cried out for a mate. She succeeded finally in flopping free of her jeans, though her once flattering panties wound up tangled and stretched between her legs.

Fortunately for Jean, her current predicament had not gone unnoticed by those who'd brought this change upon her. The moment she'd clicked “accept,” she had also inadvertently given over access to her webcam. Her entire progress had been monitored. Now, as the last of her human hair receded and her proportions filled out, a representative of Life Changers Reassignment Center would be dispatched to discreetly free of her former trappings and transport her to her new existence.

The webcam snapped a photo of her finished change. Within seconds, the cartoon profile picture was replaced with the image of a proper pig, with a a striped red/pink shirt and a pair of lacey purple panties tangled around it's legs.

As the sow lay on the floor of her former self's apartment, looking around in confusion, a mangled, desparate message popped into her inbox. A message typed by hands hardly fit for a keyboard anymore. A message Jean would never even know about, even though the sender would soon be joining her, fulfilling the needs that she so craved.

“One new message from: Jason Mitchell”

“Subject: None”

“Jsean whjat kionds of groiup is thios HWELP”