[4.000 words] [Pig-tf] [Unwilling] [Undeserved] [Bad Ending]
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Vix’s muscles ached as she navigated the tables, squinting her eyes and keeping her lips tightly shut, while balancing dishes and drinks with a tray in each hand. Whenever a client looked at her, she would force her cheeks up, but the second they looked away, the smile collapsed.

Vix also hated her uniform, a sign of submission and repressed individuality. She was more than that basic shirt and apron that was so identical to those worn by the other waitresses. It felt like wearing a collar. Her ponytail was the only thing that set her apart, and even that would be falling apart by the end of a long shift.

It was such an insult to be there, when she was destined to be so much more. Destined to change the world and help others. She was truly part of a screwed up generation. Some days she wished that she was the one being served, rather than a waitress covering for the work of two.

"This is just a temporary situation," she muttered to herself, a mantra to quell the frustration. During the first months of work, Vix tried to be nice. She tried to put on a mask and treat others like friends. The facade, however, had drained and degraded to the point where she was sure that the customers could tell that she would be happier if they weren’t there.

Another customer entered the cafeteria, adorned with a cape and a witch's hat. Vix cast an incredulous look at the figure. She couldn’t believe that people were wearing costumes in December. Vix rolled her eyes.

– Excuse me? – The cosplayer sat at one of the tables. – Could you please bring me the menu?

– I thought you would use your magic to make it levitate all the way to you? – Vix chuckled, attempting to break the ice. – It's over there! – She gestured with her head to a table five steps away from them.

– I prefer not to use magic in public, – the fake witch played along with a shy smile. – People often get uneasy when witnessing the supernatural.

– Oh, right… – Vix said. – I’ll get it for you. Just lemme deliver this first.

Just as Vix served the food at the other side of the cafeteria, another client raised their hand, then another one, and another. Before she knew it, it felt like the entire restaurant needed her immediate attention. She was already feeling a headache coming.

She took orders from a young couple, delivered ice cream to a handsome gentleman, served fries to a group of teenagers, took a brief detour to the bathroom, checked her phone for notifications, stretched her arms and legs…

…And upon her return to the saloon, the hat-wearing individual raised her hand once more.

– Excuse me? – the fake witch maintained that gentle giggle. – Sorry for bothering… I think you forgot my menu?

– Oh! Sorry! – Vix covered her mouth – I got distracted. It was as if a faerie had cast a dizzying spell on me! – she tried to ease the situation.

– Faeries are indeed annoying. – The cosplayer smirked. – But thankfully they are much more into pranks than into evil mischief.

– Uh, yeah…Damn Faeries. – She cleared her throat. – I’ll get the menu.

Just as the waitress turned away, another client raised their hand. “Gimme a break!” In hurry to get everything done quickly, Vix grabbed a menu from a recently vacated table, still littered with dirty plates.

– Here it is! – Vix tossed it to the fake witch.

– Thank you! And… – The fake witch winced as her fingers traced over the plastic lamination, all stained from the last users. – This is greasy… What the…?

– Would you like another one? – Vix said, while cleaning another table. She wasn’t even looking at the fake witch anymore. She was at the point where all of the noise began to blend together.

– Forget it. – The cosplayer sighed. – What dish do you recommend?

– I… well… – Vix took a deep breath. – How about french fries with bacon and cheese?

– Bacon? Th-that’s much too greasy. – She replied, cleaning her fingers on a napkin. – Do you have something lighter?

– We have a falafel sandwich.

– I’d like one of those, please! – The cosplayer said. – And an ice cream too, please.

– What’s the number of the dishes? – Vix had been working there for only a few weeks and still hadn’t memorized the numbers.

– Oh… sorry. Er… – The witch girl took a full minute to scan the menu for what she wanted. Meanwhile, more and more hands raised in the cafeteria. – Seventy four… and… thirty six.

– Got it. – Vix noted the numbers. – It will be ready soon. – She rushed to the next table.

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Gracchi found herself in the midst of a particularly bad week. Her latest potion had exploded, leaving her curtains in charred disarray; a particularly bad group of pixies had invaded her once-pristine garden and swapped her herbs around; her beloved cape bore the stains of the stinkiest type of frog mucus; and a blunder in her online ingredient purchase had left her alchemy stash nearly depleted.

To make matters worse, Gracchi had also committed the ultimate oversight — she had forgotten to CHANGE HER CLOTHES before stepping out of her home! Now, she paraded in public, clad in unmistakable witch attire, complete with cape and pointed hat. She felt this urge to curl up and hide her face from sight, both out of embarrassment about how ridiculous she looked and out of fear that her secret life would be exposed.

Her only recourse was to 'play along' with any jokes aimed at her appearance. Better to feign ignorance than bring even more attention to herself. If she seemed mad, that brought confrontation, and confrontation brought more risk that magic would have to come out. She didn’t feel like casting a mind erasing spell again, for it drained her too much.

Gracchi often steered clear of other people - she had a cat familiar, and the company of her coven, why would she need to embarrass herself conversing with strangers? Whenever she tried, a little voice in her head would remind her to shy away before she said or did something dumb that could attract the attention of a bully.

Now it seemed that those fears were validated. Within a few minutes of entering that restaurant, she found herself subjected to the mockery of a particularly unpleasant waitress. Why did everyone have to be so judgemental towards her? If hunger hadn't gripped her so fiercely after hours of intense study, she might have abandoned the cafeteria altogether.

When the disdainful waitress returned with Gracchi's order, she placed a vibrant ice cream next to a plate of unsolicited fries with extra bacon. Before Gracchi could point out the mistake, the waitress departed to another table, leaving Gracchi with the greasy food that she knew she didn’t want.

The shy witch, not one to raise her voice or cause a scene, raised her hand, mentally begging for the waitress to return. She wished to correct that order before her falafel sandwich had a chance to go to the wrong client. However, the waitress never glanced back in her direction. She simply zapped from one table to another nonstop. “Is she avoiding me on purpose? Does she hate me that much? What did I ever do to her?”

Eventually, her hunger won over her anxiousness, and Gracchi rose from her seat. She approached the waitress, head lowered, and touched her hand.

– H-hey. – She bit her lips. – I think my order is wrong. I asked for a falafel sandwich, not fries with bacon.

– Falafel? – The waitress harbored a confused expression, though Gracchi couldn’t completely tell, because she didn’t even look at her. – I thought you ordered fries. You told me you wanted something greasy. Didn’t you?

Gracchi stood there with her mouth agape, blinking rapidly. The waitress was feigning innocence! “She’s doing it just to mess with me! How is that fair?”

Before she could gather her thoughts, the waitress pushed her aside and strolled toward another table. In doing so, she stepped on Gracchi's feet. Gracchi took that as the sign that the waitress would refuse to talk to her any longer, so she returned to her table.

Once she sat down, she lowered her hat, and hid her eyes in its soft material. In that moment, all she desired was to escape the role of being the universe’s punching bag.

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Vix teetered on the edge of screaming. More and more customers demanded service at the same time, and it felt like she’d worked 30 hours that day. The minutes passed at a sluggish pace and she pleaded for that work-nightmare to end. That place should clearly have three waitresses, as she had already told her boss, but instead of listening to her request, he insisted on keeping only two, and assigning Vix to work an entire evening by her lonesome whenever the other got sick (as they often did, thanks to overwork).

She was tired, stressed and distracted. Three deadly sins for a waitress. Vix was barely paying attention to her surroundings, scared that she would see another hand raise. Her face was hot, her vision was blurry, and her ears were ringing.

On her way to the kitchen, holding a tray of leftovers and half-full bottles of water, she passed by the hat-wearing individual’s table. She didn’t notice the wet stain on the floor until her shoe had already slipped. In a desperate attempt to keep her balance, she ended up dropping one of the trays… toward the girl at the table.

When she looked again, the girl’s witch attire had been splattered with water, and the remains of a hamburger had fell on her shoes.

— Eeeep! – Gracchi squirmed in place.

– Sorry! – Vix’s eyes went wide open and she began to shake. – I’ll… I’ll… I’ll get you some towels?

– You damn pig! – Gracchi spoke through gritted teeth. – Look at what you’ve done! Why are you doing all these things to me!? What did I ever do to you! Swine Archomorphos Est!

The cosplayer raised her hand, pointing a finger towards her, and Vix could swear she saw tiny sparks emanating from it. A shock permeated through the waitress’s body, as if she had jammed her finger into an electrical outlet. Her muscles spasmed, causing her to drop the other tray, into a massive splatter all over her uniform. She snorted in pure exasperation.

Other customers, who had been raising their hands for her, now started to laugh and others to whisper among themselves. The girl wished to run to the back room, but at the same time she knew that she had to clean that mess before someone else slipped. Even when all dirty, and tired, and wet, and yelled at, she had to keep working…

As Vix shuffled towards where the mops and -wet floor- signs were, her muscles began to feel… slower. “Tiredness,” she thought it must be the reason why her arms and legs began to feel so heavy and full as if tiny weights were attached to them. And that tightness in her clothes, as if they were constructing her and clinging in places they never had before… that must have just been some irritation of the skin caused by the heat.

Regardless, she did not feel right. Old nightmares of being naked in front of her class stormed to the front of her mind. Work was a thousand times worse than school.

Vix shifted uneasily. The tension in her clothes increased, the seams groaning under the strain. Her belly peaked out from underneath the shirt, and her flesh was softer than it had been… for some reason. She reached for the mop, but the once effortless act of navigating the cafeteria now carried a burden.

Once she looked down to face the mess of liquids and broken glass, Vi noticed the slight rounding of her form, her clothes now stretched taut across her belly. “What the heck?”

– What’s the matter, silly waitress? – The witch smirked. – Mopping the floor is harder than getting my orders right?

– I… – Her voice felt slower, and it was not only due to the tiredness. She rubbed her face to find that it was pushing outward. Her nose elongated and widened, with its skin becoming extra soft and flabby. – I’m sorry for getting your order wrong, just give me a… a… – And then, she snorted.

The laughs at the cafeteria got louder.

Along with that came a heightened sense of smell, overwhelming her perception alongside the raising hands and shouts. All of a sudden, she could discern the aroma of each dish, the faintest whiff of cleaning products, the scent of individual people from afar, and the leftovers that spilled across the floor. It all melded together into a nasty, awful attack to her flaring nostrils.

– You seem tired, darling. – The witch resumed her mockery. – I hope you are tired of pissing me off.

– What did I – Oink! – do to – piss you off!? – She could hardly believe anything that was happening around her. Her tiredness made it seem like a dream, a type of nightmare that surpassed all others. A customer had turned out to be a real, actual witch, and every time she tried to respond, her words were replaced by another high-pitched snort. “What is this reality?”

– Maybe with these new ears of yours you’ll be able to get the orders right! – The witch pointed to Vix’s head.

– Ears…? – She oinked.

She put her hands to the top of her head, where she grasped both of her ears. To her surprise, they were now twice the size they used to be. They flopped down the sides of her head. She shook her head and they each dangled. She tried to pull on them, as if to take off a costume, but they were firmly attached to her.

– What are you doing, little piggy? You look very silly playing with your ears like that. – The witch put a spoon of ice cream into her mouth. – If you’re that excited about your ears, I can’t wait to see you react to your tail!

As if to add salt to the wound, a shiver ran across the base of her spine. Her eye twitched and she snorted, not even wanting to process the word she just heard.

The pressure built up with haste, and before Vix knew it, something was trying to come out from within. It pushed and pushed against the seat of her panties. She couldn’t help but squirm throughout the entire thing – as those newly formed vertebrae twisted and turned into a coil.

– Oink!?

– Oink indeed, darling! And there is more.

Vix tried to approach the witch, but she was caught off guard as an enormous weight settled into her thighs. They bulged out as if multiple sandbags were now tied against them, causing her clothes to strain even more. Seams started to burst, revealing lots of skin across her bloated hips and legs.

“This can’t be happening… this can’t be… why today… what did I do to earn this?”

In a vain attempt to conceal the tail and the added weight on her lower half, Vix awkwardly tugged down at her skirt. However, the garment proved too short.

Everything was working against her that day. She wanted to be away from there. She didn’t want to be a waitress. She didn’t want to be a pig. Those changes to her body were like an even-more-maddening version of the raised hands, a bunch of little irritations that summed up to her wanting to curl up and hide.

Many clients, armed with their phones, started taking pictures and recording videos. She didn’t want to go viral like that.

Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore – the dirty tables, the snapping cameras, the laughing and all the eyes on her. She decided to abandon her job and run towards the exit. However, in her frenzied attempt to flee, she lost balance and tripped.

The girl slid across the floor, with a resounding thud that just teased her for the newfound weight she found herself strapped with. She was sprawled on all fours in the middle of the cafeteria.

She tried to stand back up, but her body continued to sabotage her at every turn. Her limbs had shortened as they gained chubbiness, and her fingers which once cleaned tables and held plates so carefully were replaced with hardened hooves. Each time she tried to stand she would slip again, her snout falling back into the puddle, and she’d release a loud snort.

She wished to dig a hole and disappear. “Why are they laughing?” She was the only waitress here, the only person entrusted to take care of everyone’s orders and needs, and nobody seemed to care that there were tears in her eyes. “Do they even see a human anymore?”

– Oink… oink oink… – All of her words were scrunched up in her throat. She tried to ask what she could have possibly done better to not earn such a fate, but her body rejected her request to ask.

– Look at yourself, dumb pig. See what you’ve made to yourself! Maybe if you were more kind, you wouldn’t have earned yourself a lifetime subscription to snorting and digging up truffles! – The witch took one of the wall mirrors down, and laid it down on the floor in front of the pig.

The creature that stared back at her was suffering. Its eyes were wet, and its once-nice clothes sagged from her body, stained as if she’d been rolling in the mud. Her skin morphed into a thick, pink hide that further accentuated the grotesque fat folds that replaced her once-slim silhouette.

She looked like a mess… or, well, like a pig.

…And then… The next victim was her blonde hair – her long, radiant ponytail – once her only source of pride throughout this hell of a job, now cascaded down around her like falling leaves.

Just when she thought it was over, she watched her butt and belly bloat up again. More laughs ensued. Vix had her eyes wide open and couldn’t stop her swine shrieks, unable to comprehend how this had been her day.

And then, the hat-wearing individual stood up, and swung her arm. A veil of pink magic draped the cafeteria, causing the patrons to stop laughing and look away from Vix. As if commanded by an unseen force, they returned to their tables, stowed away their cellphones, and collectively disregarded the transformed woman as if she were invisible.

– Alright, my piggy friend. Time to eat. – Gracchi twirled her fingers and summoned a pink collar around Vix’s neck, complete with a leash. – Do you like greasy fries with ice cream? Do you like filth? You sure do!

“Why… why have you chosen to do this to me?”

– Oink…?

The plate of fries hovered in front of Vix, and the witch poured the ice cream all over it. The girl was too tired, broken, and scared to fight it. Driven by an insatiable appetite, she drew nearer until her face was immersed in the peculiar feast.

– Good piggy. – The witch scratched her behind the ears. – If you play nice and act like a nice pet, I promise I won’t turn you into sausage. Did I make myself clear?

– … – Vix had tears in her eyes. She had just been a tired, overworked waitress, and now she was getting threatened to be slaughtered as a pig? She’d been forced to eat without a spoon and fork, been stripped of her clothing, been robbed of her voice, had everything ripped from her… and she was supposed to just “play nice”? Had she not played nice all day? All life?

She’d tried so hard. She’d put up smiles for each customer, she’d always bring out the food as quickly as possible, she tried to get to every table at the same time… and that was her reward for that? She’d been willing to wait, she never asked for more tips, she lived each day with the tiniest bit of hope that she’d be able to get past this terrible job someday… and this was the end for her? She’d come this far to be taken as the pig of a random customer who she mixed up the order of?

The girl snorted, face dirty with grease and her legs aching from the worst possible day…

And she nodded. Because there was nothing else for her to do.

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Vix stared at the wooden fence of the corral… at the little splinters, the little rocks that gathered around the posts, the tiny tufts of grass that surrounded it. She never thought such a simple construction could ever imprison her — yet, there she was.

She sniffed the air only to be reminded of where she was. The smell of fresh dirt that she lay in, the mud that soaked her pink chest, and the grease that even after all those days still ran from her snout. The stench of the other pigs around her was insufferable, especially when they’d occasionally bump into her with their fat bodies, spreading their tainted animal smell that she wished she didn’t share.

She thought about the big city. She had no way to know just where she was, but she’d been driven out for at least an hour before being dumped in that wooden prison of dirt. Far into that farmland, the town was nowhere in sight. That was a place she never would have thought of visiting as a human, let alone spending the rest of her days there. Thankfully there were no honking cars around, only the singing of birds — a peace that would have made her happy once, if it didn’t mean staying in a pen all day.

She went crosseyed and sighed. That damned, fat snout at the bottom of her vision, always snorting and oinking. Her weight, which would have overpowered her former size threefold, that bounced and dragged her down with each step. Her hooves, which stomped across the dirt in hobbles, never allowing her to stand as she was used to.

‘At least’ Vix would be fed every day, having food and water delivered straight to a wide trough, which she shared with the other noisy pigs. Ration and leftovers weren't exactly the type of meal she asked for… which was ironic, she supposed.

Since that damn witch had dropped her in that farm, Gracchi had been visiting her every day (now wearing regular clothes), just to mock her through the fence and say mean things such as: “feeling greasy today?” “How’s my favorite bacon?” “Are you behaving well?” “Do you like your fellow porcine friends?” “I guess being a pig is your true calling!”

All the while she couldn’t say a word in response. There were so many things that she wanted to tell that witch. She wanted to beg and plead to be changed back. She wanted to apologize for everything that had happened at the cafeteria and say that it was all a series of accidents. She would promise anything. She would do anything. Anything for another chance to be human!

Anything! There was not a single thing she wouldn’t do for that witch, if it meant she got another chance at life. She didn’t want to spend so many years dreaming of being somewhere better only to spend the rest of her life rotting as another insignificant animal in a pen!

She had no purpose now. She had felt like she had no purpose at the restaurant, spending her days delivering food to people who wouldn’t care if she ever disappeared, but at the least, she had been modestly helping their days by providing service. Here, though - she was doing nothing. Just waiting, in a fat, pink blob of a body, in the sun all day, trying not to cry.

She wanted to say all of that to the witch. However, as she opened her mouth, only snorts and squeals came out.

– Silly pig. – The witch, after an hour of teasing, would always turn around and leave. – See ya tomorrow.

Vix sighed and looked at her own reflection in the water trough.

She had always wanted to get out of that hellish waitress job, but not like this…

Not like this…

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Thanks very much to my dear friend and proofreader  Tanice

Commission journal:
https://www.deviantart.com/phyrexia.....TION-889915891