The Farmer's Favor
Story by Muskwalker on SoFurry
Imported from SF2 with no description provided.
I used to be something else.
I don't know what, exactly. It felt like an important thought to hold on to, even though I wasn't really sure what it meant; all I knew was a) I'm a pig, b) I think I know a lot of things pigs aren't supposed to, and c) one of those things I'm not supposed to know is that I used to be something else.
Sometimes as I sat with my face in the slop, growing fatter for my farmer, I wondered if that meant I was supposed to be something else.
Still I ate and still I grew fat, all so I could win my farmer's favor. Every week, all the pigs would get weighed, and the fattest pig had the honor of breeding all the others, and the privilege of being bred by the farmer himself; one of the things I wasn't supposed to know was that breeding does not work like this, farms do not work like this, yet somehow there were new piglets every week for him to sell, whether I'd fathered them or birthed them.
These days I was mostly top hog, and I worked hard to keep that post—I ate everything set before me, and horned in on the smaller pigs' troughs as well when I'd run out; I'd eat till my belly dragged and I had trouble breathing, and collapse in a corner till I heard the sound of the farmer coming to feed us again.
Then the day came that I lost all that.
The day the farmer brought in half a dozen new hogs.
All of them were big. Some of them were enormous.
And all the smaller pigs were taken out to make room. It was just me and the new hogs—and it looked like they were working together for the biggest of them, a dark gray monster I knew I'd never be able to grow bigger than in a week.
I tried my best, I really did. I was fat, for sure, but I wasn't soft, and even though they might've outweighed me on the scale I'd managed to cow a couple of the smaller new hogs when I came for their slop.
But it was to no avail. Even though they surrendered all they could spare to the monster who never stopped eating, even though I stole from them myself, I knew I was still the least of the herd when weigh-in day came around.
The farmer entered the sty, shirtless despite the cold. All eyes turned to him, because honestly, how could they not? He was irresistible—the silver of his graying hair and beard, that massive hanging belly that would make any pig proud, the dark fur that covered it somehow seeming to draw the eye into the endless, compelling depth of his navel…
Even those among the pigs that were still afraid in their new home were entranced in a worshipful stare.
It was time to be weighed.
He led us all off to the big scale that took up a good corner of the barn. The monster went first; his supremacy was a foregone conclusion anyway, but it was still a sight to see the numbers I shouldn't have been able to read coming in at well over five hundred pounds for him.
The rest of the pigs filed up in a slow procession, the numbers steadily going downward as each passed—a couple at four fifty, a few at three fifty, the weakest around three hundred…
I hesitated as my turn came. I had never reached three hundred, though I knew I was coming close. The smallest of the other pigs had weighed in at two hundred ninety-eight pounds. Had I really been moved, so quickly, to the bottom of the heap?
LEDs flickered on the digital readout as I stood on the scale's surface, before they settled on 295.
I felt like the worst pig on the farm. I knew I was.
The other pigs were led back out to the sty for their reward, leaving me alone.
I didn't know what was going to happen to me, but I felt very small—a smallness that I felt all over, like a physical force. I curled up there, on the scale, watching the numbers steadily go down.
After a little while, the farmer came back out, the stink of the other pigs all over him. “Oh, little piglet," he said, picking me up and holding me against his furry chest. “We'll need to find you a new role you're more suited for, won't we?"
He carried me back out into the yard and looked over the various enclosures that held his animals, a thoughtful hum in his chest as he stroked behind my ears.
“I was thinking I might put you in the chicken coop… Then I thought, I'm quite overdue for a donkey… But then I realized—I haven't done anything fun in a while…"
And he turned and led me, not into any of the animal enclosures, but to the farmhouse itself.
I was astonished. None of the animals were allowed in the house. And the master was taking me inside?
He carried me to the fireplace, lay down on a blanket, and placed me on his belly. My snout explored the glory of his fur as he stroked over my back firmly.
I felt my weight and size starting to return; it wasn't long before I covered his gut entirely, embracing it with all four limbs till a tingle ran across my trotters. They twitched involuntarily and I watched as the little hooves split apart, looking softer and more like…hands?
The farmer took my hands in his and squeezed them gently, looking into my eyes. The tingle travelled across my face and I felt my snout shortening—and yet it only shortened a little, deflating the expectation that had been swelling up in me.
“Oink?"
“Hush, little piggy."
His hands moved down my back, and my hide grew softer and more thickly furred—more like my farmer's. Hair sprouted from my head with a soft prickling sensation, and it in seconds it was already long enough to get in my eyes.
The farmer's hands reached my rump, where they started kneading my plumpness. I felt my legs growing out, becoming more and more humanlike, and with a moan of pleasure I felt my slender corkscrew cock tensing as it thickened up, feeling more stubby, more eager.
I was humping his gut without any conscious thought, but he held me hard against him and mumbled in my still-piglike ear: “Slow down, piggy—boy. Let's get more comfortable."
It was an honor beyond belief to follow my farmer up the stairs and into the dim, grand space that was his bedroom.
As he started to get his pants off, I saw an opportunity I couldn't resist—I rushed him and buried my snout in his rump, slurping out the accumulated sweat of his day with a tongue that was as thick and hungry as ever.
The farmer stopped with his pants half down and let me eat him out, my deep-buried snout exploring the musky scent and taste of his hole. I smelled the onset of his arousal, knew he'd be eager to breed me, but I wanted to enjoy him in this as much as I could.
“Good boy," he said. “I wouldn't normally let you do this, but you'll be family now, so…"
He let his pants drop and bent over the edge of the bed, one hand reaching deep under his gut to stroke himself. “Go ahead. Show Uncle Boyce what you've got."
I resisted the urge to pounce; that would've been pure animal selfishness, and I wanted to be better to my farmer—my uncle.
I kept my muzzle buried deep in his ass, continuing to pleasure him with my tongue till he was murmuring his need into the sheets and precum was dripping down between his legs.
“Come on, boy…"
I gave his rump one last long slow lick from the bottom up before getting up on my hind—before getting up on my legs and leaning my weight on his back, stiff cock rooting around for his hole.
Despite the size of the big man, my stubby human cock was still able to slide easily into his slobber-filled ass. His body quivered under me and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him in place as I started to thrust in.
I tried to show restraint—it's too easy just to jackhammer away with the single-minded goal of depositing one's breeding seed, and I wanted to show my uncle how good I could be—but my cock was still new and ultra-sensitive and it wasn't long before I had ground myself deep in the big farmer and shot a load that felt immensely wonderful even though it only lasted a few seconds.
There are still some ways that pigs have it better, after all.
Sometimes I'll remember I used to be something else—when I look at my face in the mirror and see human features there instead of the snout I can feel and see with my own eyes, I'll think I used to be a pig.
I don't know why it felt like such an important thought to hold on to. It was just a fact of life, after all.
I'd always felt I was supposed to be something else, hadn't I?
Now I was.