Bo Peeping (Patreon)

She grew tired of the country life, feeling as if she were always working. Up before dawn, cleaning, chore-ing, and then tending the flock all day. She had to remain vigilant and alert all day, and then return home to complete more chores at night, cooking and cleaning, before finally dropping exhausted into her thin bed at night for fitful rest before waking to repeat the day again. Rinse, repeat, rinse, repeat. She thought, if she were going to repeat the same day over and over, she might as well be a member of the flock, herded out in the morning, grazing and napping all day, only to return in the evening and sleep in relative safety. Such a simple life they led, she thought.

The her flippant wish carried on the mountain air, and she felt the beginning of a tingle in her feet. A pinch, as her toes began to draw together, tightening inside her stockings as she looked down. The tingle turned to pain and surprise, and she sat roughly on the grass, her head spinning with the implications.

The changes continued up her leg, her body swelling and responding to her wish. She felt her thighs thicken, and her dress draw tight against her broadening hips. The rough fabric pulled against her skin as her hips continued their growth, her stomach tightening beneath it and the changes pulling a moan from her as she threw her head back and leaned on her hands.

As her hips tore through her thin dress, she felt a tingling in her breasts, and could feel them swell outward, matched the proportion of her hips as they grew. The rough fabric was almost painful against her sensitive nipples, the tightness restricting her breathing and compressing the swelling flesh of her blossoming breasts. They continued their assault, her breath quickening as the heat in her body grew, her arousal reaching a fever pitch as she felt her loins respond in kind. The fabric across her chest strained with the effort of containing her once-modest breasts, now swelling into huge tits which popped the stitches in her dress one by one, each pop releasing pressure on her body and furthering the stress of the next stitch in line. In short order the stitches could take the unrelenting pressure no longer and her dress split along the seams, her breasts falling heavily in her chest in a heaving mass, the cool air caressing their peaks and valleys and tightening her nipples. A flood of fluids gushed from her pussy as her arousal surged and flooded her body with renewed heat.

It was becoming too much for her, the sensation of her swollen, dripping, pussy and her huge, heavy breasts weighing on her chest. She barely noticed when the changes moved further upward and large horns began to press out from her temples, curving gracefully around her lengthening ears to meet the fall of her golden hair and frame her face. She felt her face changes as well, stretching forward and changing shape to become a muzzle, a furtive bleat escaping her lips as her transformation continued.

She would live a very different life this way, much simpler, herded to and fro, and free from the cares and chores of her previous life…”