My first attempt at art/using gimp. I hope it isn't too awful.

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Lacey Taylor stood scowling at you even before you opened the door. Something had felt off the moment you woke up today and it was not just the hangover from last nights new years eve party. No, this was different. Something urgent. Something frightening. Even the doorbell had sounded sharper and more aggressive than usual. It did not help that Lacey was impatiently pressing it over and over whle you hurriedly slipped into last nights clothes. You put aside your apprehension and opened the door finding Lacey stood there looking immaculate in a little black dress. She was a little shorter than you but just being near her, made you feel smaller.

"You look a mess," Lacey glanced over you from head to toe and back again, looking thoroughly unimpressed, "fitting."

You already felt nervous about being seen while not properly showered and dressed but now that she was actively judging you, you could not help but turn beet red in shame.

"Hi, umm, can I help you?"

You wracked your already frazzled brain, trying to think of why, not to mention how she came to be at your door so early on New Years Day. You remembered meeting her the night before for the first time, though you never found out who invited her. Still, you tried to hit it off to make her feel welcome and it was refeshing to have some one new and interesting to talk to. She seemed so passionate about ancient history, myths and legends and listened as you told her about your own geeky obsessions. You couldn't remember giving her your address or arranging to meet again so soon though.

As if noticing your discomfort Lacey spoke again, "You remember what you said last night? 'New Year, new me?'"

"Y-yes," you say, tentatively, unsure of where this was going. The last year had not been your best one and you had resolved to improve things this year. There was a brief glimmer of hope as you wonder if Lacey plans to help you out in someway.

"I despise that phrase," Lacey practically spat the words from her mouth. Her cool demeanour briefly bubbling with rage before returning to icy coldness, "but it certainly is going to be the case now."

Lacey took a deep breath from her cigarette holder then exhaled into her open palm. Transluscent green smoke filled her palm and she worked it with her fingers and thumb until a shape started to form within the cloud. As you peer down into her palm you briefly see what you think is the spectral form of a plump four legged beast but just before your eyes could focus further, she closed her hand and pointed sharply at you. Without even a moment to blink, green vapor shot from her finger and into your gasping mouth and nostrils. More tendrils of emerald mist enveloped you, entering your ears and slipping into your clothes, tugging them over your head and down to the floor, leaving you cold and naked in the doorway.

As you cover yourself, with your hands, you witness your nose turning a pinkish hue, it almost felt as if someone has grabbed it and is pulling it forward, inexplicably stretching your nose like taffy with one hand and using another finger to push it up so your nostriils are on show. More light and airy fingers tug at your ears, pulling each in three directions at once, the spectral hands pulling them into enormous, floppy and trianguar mockeries that droop down at the edge of your vision. But there are no hands there only Lacey's luscious smirking lips and her dark, penetrating eyes that seem to eat up every ounce of your fear and confusion.


"Wh-what's happening?" you ask Lacey, briefly wondering if she was always taller than you but the thought it quickly forgotten as there is a feeling like squirming, slithering slugs in your belly. You know that your insides are somehow reposition and the feeling moves deeper, down between your ballooning buttcheeks. You sense your butthole poked and prodded by invisible hands as it too is deformed and devolved. You give a quick look over your shoulder, your fattening neck making it ever more difficult, and you see a squiggly, wiggling tail squirming out of the skin at the base of your spine. Thoughtlessly, you try to shake it off, wiggling your hips and it flops aross your big bubble behind, bouncing back bigger and curlier. You look ridiculous, standing there shaking your fat booty with its piggly little tail and you feel mismatched jiggling all the way up your belly and chest.

"Wh-what the TITS?!" you squeal as you lift you top to find two rows of swollen and squishy sweater puppies, wibbling and wobbling like jelly, all the way down to you hips. You caress your hands from your once human nipples all the way down these new doughy dumplings counting your distended pig dugs.

"Two, four, six,... eight... Ahh!" the stimulation of such susceptible swellings sends your synapses into sexual frenzy. Between your fattened thighs you sense your sex twitch and contort, muscles tensing and flexing, hardening then softening, and with each squeeze it dribbles out sticky wet fluid, becoming more sensitive and beastial by the second. You now have the needy, wet hole of a dull beast, a sow, and already it yearns to be filled.

You look at Lacey, pleadingly, for any explanation or sign of mercy or remorse but find none.

"W-why?" you ask, your voice sounding like a shrill squeal and Lacey frowns as if she expects you to already know the answer, as if you have offended her just by asking.

Lacey huffs and rolls her eyes, "You endlessly whine about what went wrong last year and how you are going to improve, making lists full of things that you need to change. You'll do more excercise, eat less meat, go out more, make new friends, blah blah blah... But you don't change do you? You never change and that vexes me."

Lacey's demeanour had changed from blasé to frighteningly accusatory and you felt a sharp, instictive fear a fear rooted in childhood, deep between your legs.

"My new years resolution is something similar to yours. I don't plan on changing myself, of course. You can't improve perfection. No. I'm going to help change you. Make you something new... not something better, but something you are better suited to being. A fat lazy pig."

The skin between your middle three fingers grows, seemingly becoming webbed before two of them start to fuse until one disappears entirely. The nails of the remaining digits harden and grow, becoming stiff and hoof like. You can no longer grasp your nipple, your thumb and pinky wither smaller and twist away, becoming pitiful dew claws. Your hands have become crude pig trotters, you couldn't open a door or even change the channel, turning a page would be nigh impossible and you could not hold a phone let alone use it. You'll never draw or type again. You are helpless...

With this realization the sharp fear reaches its height and terror trickles down your wobbling legs before they give out and you fall onto your new trotters. You could not crane your neck up to look at Lacey, you were forced to sit back on your bulbous backside with your forehooves betweeen your splayed backlegs, sitting like a dog, just to look up at your tormentor.

Lacey stood over you, her size now matching her intimidating presence. This is how you had felt before, like a pitiful animal, naked and small in front of a superior, commanding woman. You a weak, disgusting pig and she, an alluring, powerful Goddess. The way she spoke, the way she carried herself, it was all so elegant and refined, like a London socialite. You on the other hand were a crass and unrefined pig. When you walked, your rows of teats jiggled, your curly tail bobbed and your butthole and sex were on show. You would speak in oinks and grunts and make other messy, smelly noises.

"Still in there. piggy?" she asked. You nod your bald pigs head and your fat fleshy face jiggles, alien ears bobbing and wiggling along with it. This seemed to please her and she gave you coquettish smile that only served to heighten your shame.

As you sat there like an obedient dog for its master, the thought occurred to you that there were dogs bigger than you now and you had the morbid thought of one day ending up as kibble in a dogbowl.

"Good, I think it's best you remember your previously life and new years resolution. Of course, there won't be any chance of you failing to keep it now. You'll have to exercise if you don't want to end up with a blubberous porkbelly, you'll eat what you're given or what you can forage. You'll happily spend days outside in the mud and I'm sure you'll make plenty of new friends at the sty. I'm sure you'll find a lover in no time. Nature and the farmhands will make sure of it. You'll be big and bloated with piglets in no time at all. Yes, this is the year you finally find your place but don't worry about when it's over. It may be the Year of the Pig for now but you'll be a pig for decades."

Lacey turned to leave, and you could only look up to her and watch as her perfect, round bum swished from side to side. She looked over her shoulder giving you a mischievious wink.

"Happy New Year, pig."