Fire Emblem 3 Houses: From Lions to Pigs (Patreon)

Tags: Animal TF, Extreme weight gain, Personality change, Corruption, light slob

A little different stuff on offer here, hope you enjoy! 

--- Apples in the Market ---

“Oooh. . .Annie. . .I can. . .smell the. . .bakery from here!” Mercedes von Martritz gushed as she plodded ahead towards the town outside of Gerreg Mach. She waddled with purpose and desire, her steps quickening as the smell of food entered her nostrils. Her thick arms pumped, curtains of bicep fat sliding along a belly fat which fanned out under her. The blonde woman’s hair fell gracefully down a back filled with undulating rolls. Her academy uniform was pressed tight into her body, with newly added folds devouring the fabric. The Mercedes which bulled towards the town was a vastly different woman than had entered the officer’s academy. Rather than a peaceful walk, she had a boorish waddle. Hands that had once been held constantly in prayer were now most often around whatever morsels of food she could find. Her boots and long socks were fit to burst with pinkish calf fat. Yet, Mercedes’ freakishly rapid weight gain was the most mild of her symptoms. Her “condition”, as she politely referred to it, had done more than add inches to her waistline. The full extent of her change became visible as she turned to face her friend. “Where shall. . .we go. . .first?” Mercedes asked, her pig snout twitching. 

“Ah. . .uhhm. . .how about the bakery!” Annette Dominic was taken aback when Mercedes turned fully around. At times Annette was so drawn into the hypnotic jiggles and undulations of Mercedes’ fat she forgot about the pig features. Whether by curse, strange disease, or some other reason, the refined young woman had developed into a porcine figure. Her nose had lengthened and merged with her upper lip, forming a snout. Ears that had once been hidden behind flaxen hair had become floppy and always visible. And, Anette was reminded once more when Mercedes turned around, the blonde had a curly tail poking out of her skirt. Though it had been weeks, Annette still struggled with Mercedes' new features. She blinked, screwing her brain to come up with any way of continuing the conversation. “I think today they are going to have fresh pies.” 

“Oh. . .Annie. . .you think. . .so?” Mercedes tossed the words over her shoulder. Her head turned to speak. Annette once again saw the snuffling snout and rotund jowls underneath. Though Mercedes had been to town on numerous occasions, it was almost as if her nose needed to lead the way. She sucked air in and snorted it back out again, fueling her body on the smells of the town. Her body followed ever so slightly behind. Though, Annette supposed, that could be because of her weight. With pig like features came an appetite to match. Mercedes was only short of 500 lbs by a few pounds. Likely, Annette realized as she watched her friend’s stubby fingers flex in preparation for grabbing food, this trip would push her over the edge. “Pie would. . .be. . .delightful!” Mercedes’ pace picked up as the thought of food rampaged over her good sense. She all but charged down the street, making use of the limited mobility left to her. 

“Mercie!” Annette called, running after her friend. The finer and more graceful parts of movement were beyond the porcine woman. Further still, Anette wondered if she could even remember what they felt like. Mercedes barreled forward, stomach and breasts jumping up and down as she stomped through the town. Her butt sloshed back and forth, lifting her skirt. Twin balloons wobbled and kissed, their affair intensifying as Mercedes waddled. Annette winced as the little curly tail popped out to greet the town. “Maybe slow down a bit. I’m struggling to keep up!” Annette called, lying in order to maintain the shreds of her friend’s dignity. 

“Annie. . .I can’t. . .pie might. . .be gone!” Mercedes sped her charge up, straining whatever muscles might remain to gain precious seconds. The promise of food, any food, overpowered her rational mind. Mercedes’ thoughts were divorced from her body entirely. She did not feel her floppy ears bouncing up and down, nor her stomach knocking against her thighs, not even her breasts forcing her shawl apart. She thought only of the food that was coming to her. Pie was such a wonderful treat. She would shove her face into it, using her adorable snout to find the most sugary morsels. Whatever it looked like, the pink and twitching facial adaptation was a brilliant tool for a hungry woman. Mercedes sniffed again, making sure she was on the correct path. The smells of butter and flaky crust came to her. She sucked more air in, bringing as much smell as she could. Buttons popped from her jacket and shirt. Her golden shawl fluttered away in the breeze. 

Annette ran, trying to catch the wayward piece of clothing before it hit the ground. Her short legs tripped and stumbled over the uneasy street. Annette was a studious woman, hardly suited for athletic endeavors. It was hardly surprising when she tripped and fell. Annette skidded through a puddle of mud, staining her uniform. She sighed as the shawl fell over her head, safe from the dirt of the walkway. Annette sat up as quickly as she could, checking the street for her piggish friend. Rather worryingly, Mercedes had disappeared. Annette stood up, dusting the mud off of her clothes as best she could. “Hello! Where did you run off too!” She called, walking along the street. People walked by her as if a gigantic pig woman had not just come stomping by with food on her mind. It was a credit to the politeness of the towns surrounding the old monastery. However, it did not make Anette’s job of finding her friend any easier. 

Annette started on the course she had been following, but quickly gave up. The path to the bakery was suspiciously empty. Mercedes was moving at her top speed, but that was hardly any faster than a normal human. It was only impressive that a fat woman could will herself to that sort of cannonball speed. What was truly remarkable was how quickly Mercedes had gotten out of view of Annette. The redhead spun around and around, trying to locate her partner. In the end, Annette found Mercedes not by sight, but rather by sound. Even then, it was more by luck than skill. Anette was searching through empty or lightly populated streets, with not a trace of Mercedes when she heard the sounds. Gruntings and snorts, the sorts of things that come right before a hog takes to a trough. Annette ran towards the sound, waving the shawl in her hand like a flag. She turned the corner, finding Mercedes hovering over a fruit stand. 

Mercedes had not heard any of Annette’s calls. She had not heard the owner of the fruit stand explaining his prices or asking for her order. Instead, all Mercedes had been able to fixate on was the apples. Plump, juicy, and huge. To the food addled mind of Mercedes, magic must have been used in the creation of such perfect apples. Her tongue licked out of her mouth, running along her snout and plump bottom lip. Not spared from the weight gain that had taken place across her body, Mercedes’ bottom had grown large enough to gain a small droop. Maybe a bit obscene for polite society, it was now perfect for holding onto apples without letting them drop. Mercedes, still ignorant of anything around her, lurched towards the pyramid of ripe, red treats. Ideas of fair trade and payment shoved far from her mind by a rampant hunger instinct. Her stubby hands twitched, rising from her sides. Annette yelled and begged for Mercedes to wait. The storekeeper realized too slowly what was going to happen. Mercedes launched into the pile. 

  The pyramid of apples and the table underneath collapsed as 500 pounds of porcine pudge was forced upon it. Mercedes only reacted with a dazed “Oh!” as she felt her legs going underneath her. A lucky few apples scattered, many were trapped in her arms, and the unluckiest were crushed into pulp by her blubbery mass. Mercedes wasted no time, nosing through the succulent offerings. Prone upon the sidewalk, she kicked her legs and opened her mouth wide. Her snout worked like a shark fin, cutting through the sea of food to find the best bits. Her butt moved with gelatinous fury as she kicked her heavy legs. The excitement of finally getting to eat again was even more overpowering than the search for food. Mercedes devoured entire apples in two or three bites. Flabby arms pulled more of the red asteroids into her orbit, funneling them down into the black hole between her snout and lips. She grew so excited that she had to share her thoughts with the world.  “Oooohmmmmgghp. . .oooiiinnkk. . .snooorrk. . .sccchooo. . .mmmgghp. . .deliciosucscch!” The partial pig snorted and oinked through the meal. 

“Noooo! Mercie!” Annette bent down to pull on her friend's skirt. Pink fat rolled back and forth, too interested in apples to care. “You have to get up!” Annette yelled more. She shook the big woman, getting only snorts in return. Mercedes was practically foaming at the mouth with delight. The shadow of the stand owner fell over Anette. She stood, face crimson with embarrassment. “Uuuhm. . .I guess I will be paying. . .” She fished for her wallet, knowing there was no money. “Wo-would you be ok with making the bill out to Garreg Mach, specifically Professor Byleth. She’s overseeing Mercie’s. . . treatment.” Annette sheepily took the wallet out, flipping it upside down to show there was nothing inside. As she did, she happened to catch sight of Mercede’s legs. Her shoes had been kicked off in the flurry of eating. A pair of sharp hooves stabbed through her stockings. 

--- Hand Feeding ---

“Are you sure the professor asked you to wear this?” Annette asked as she tugged on the leash. It was a green chord, matched to Byleth’s gleaming emerald hair. It led down to a collar that was outlined with the symbols of her office. Though, much of the collar was hidden under bouncing pink fat. “I’m not sure I see the usefulness of this.” Annette turned the green chord over in her hand, feeling it lightly tug down towards Mercedes. With each tug, a looming mass of flesh moved closer. Annette stifled a grunt as a big, broad, doughy body pushed against her small legs. While the leash seemed to come from the office of the Archbishop, the request seemed too ludicrous to be believed. However, much around Gerreg Mach was too ludicrous to be believed. Every report Mercedes gave after coming out of the Archbishop’s office enhanced that feeling.

“It’s. . .snoooohoooark. . .very simple. . .oooorrrnk. . .Annie!” Mercedes was almost too cheery about being placed in a collar and leash. She looked up at her friend, piggish eyes gleaming as she spoke. “Isscch a little gravity pendant. . .snooork. . .just to help me balance.” Mercedes wobbled her fat back and forth. It shoved heavily against Annette’s legs. “Well. . .until I get used to my clompers!” Mercedes raised what had once been a functional arm to show off a fat leg with a hoof at the end. The porcine curse infesting Mercedes had advanced several stages. Once again, the mass that Mercedes had packed on was dwarfed in strangeness by other symptoms. Her physiology had been re-written, bringing her low to the ground. Mercedes was almost more pig than human at this point. She waddled about uneasily on four hooves, snorted as much as she spoke, and had entirely given up on clothes. Her golden hair, intelligent eyes, and fair voice continued to mark her as human. Oddly as well, the uneasiness of her four legged gait lended itself to her humanity. Though trodding upon hooves, Mercedes walked like a person badly pretending to be a pig. Were it were so, Annette thought. 

“But. . .a leash?” Anette asked again, holding the chord up. 

“Oooh. . .SNOOORRK. . .hush.” The snorts from Mercedes’ snout brushed aside any further conversation. She started to waddle, testing out her legs. She bumbled past her friend, her protruding gut bumping Annette. The redhead followed along, if only because they held the leash. “There’s. . .hoooarrk. . .FOOD to be. . .snooork. . .enjoyed.” The emphasis Mercedes put on “food” belied how truly hungry she was. Her other words might have been spoken softly, but the mind and appetite of a beast underlied them. Annette walked along, unable to keep from studying Mercedes. Though her gait was clumsy still, she was already acclimating to it. And, even if her walk was troubled, she had thoroughly adjusted to her other porky features. The large, pink piggie found her way down the corridor by smell alone. Mercedes snuffled and snorted, picking up smells that Annette could only dream of. The redhead had imagined that they were going to the great hall to eat, but Mercedes had other ideas. 

“Uh, Mercie, are you sure that there’s food down this way?” Annette asked. She looked about, her red hair twisting around her ears. They were in a part of the citadel that she had never been in. It was tucked away, a place of study for professors and the archbishop herself. She looked at the unmarked doors, wondering what was behind each of them. She then looked back at Mercedes, who was still confidently waddling her way down the hall. A shiver ran down Annette’s back. For the entirety of their friendship, Mercedes had always been the taller of the two. Annette had looked up to her kind and peaceful friend on levels both metaphorical and literal. Now, as Mercedes devolved into a four legged belly-beast, she wasn’t sure how to hold her head. For the moment, she looked straight ahead. The constant swing and clap of the blonde’s naked buttcheeks was distracting. 

“Snooorrk. . .SNOOOORRK. . .yep!” Mercedes confirmed her direction. Her hooves picked up speed, even though they were sinking into her fat. There was always strength in Mercedes’ body when it came to finding food. Food was the fuel for her change, thus the curse demanded increasing amounts of it.  “Ooooo, it’s going to be good. . .HOOOOARRRK. . .Annie.” streams of drool flowed out of Mercedes’ open mouth. She found that she could no longer close her mouth. The anticipation of the food was too much for her. Her stomach rumbled and made loud gurgling noises. The heavy stamp of her hooves only seemed to shake more gurgles from her gut. Mercedes would waddle a couple steps, then stop for a half-second to let her belly shake. Annette made sure to hold the leash taut, letting the gravity crystals within keep her friend mobile. Finally, they reached the promised door. 

“Here!” Mercedes thumped her head against the soft wood. Her floppy ears bounced and her hair, thrown over one shoulder, shook. Annette started to walk forward to turn the knob. With Mercedes on all fours and her hands changed to hooves, there was little chance of her working the knob. However, her condition did not prevent her from opening the door. Before Annette could reach the brass circle, Mercedes thudded her head against the door. The hinges shuddered, partially coming off of the wall. 650 lbs of pale porcine blubber hit the wood. Mercedes snorted, a little miffed that the hinges had held. She would not be denied from her prize longer than she had to be. “Oooh. . .ooorrrnnk. . .poo!” She snorted again before ramming the door. Annette watched with wide eyes. She could not help be study and critique Mercedes’ technique. “HOOOOARRRRK! Come. . .down!” Mercedes gave a deep and guttural bellow. With the final thrust of her thick head and meaty shoulders, the door caved in. 

“Mercie! I…that was- a. . .aaah!” Annette’s belated condemnation was cut off as she was tugged into the room. Within the study, they found a desk with a load of pies and other sweets. They were the sort of thing that Mercedes might make herself, were she able to use her hands anymore. The pig-woman had switched roles rather intensely, moving from pastry chef to pastry taster. The pair tumbled into the room. Mercedes managed to waddle up to the table containing all of the sweets and promptly collapsed. Annette almost lost her balance as a shock wave emanated out from Mercedes’ landing. A thick, slow ripple spread over the pig’s body. Mercedes huffed and wheezed, allowing fatigue to take over now that she had reached her goal. She splayed her thick legs out, sinking down into her own fat. 

“Annie. . .SNOORRP. . .could you. . .hooorrruuup. . .feed me?” Mercedes asked, matching sweetness for fatigue. The quadrupedal woman tried to look over one shoulder, but gave up quickly. She struggle up at the table, making the attempt as pathetic as possible. “Isscch. . .snooorrk. . .so far away.” 

“Mercie. . .” Annie sighed, walking over to her friend. Thoughts she could not hope to understand tugged at her heartstrings. Mercedes was a perfect mix of pathetic and adorable. She shifted on her stomach, letting growing folds start to devour her legs. Her snout and thickened bottom lip were slick and shiny with saliva. Her lavender eyes shone with an intense yearning. Annette could not tell if that yearning was for the food or the means by which it would be fed to her. “It’s just. . .do we even know who’s food this is?” She asked, stalling for time. 

“Doesn’t matter!” Mercedes turned to Annie with huge and hungry eyes. She licked her lips and bucked against the ground. “Annie. . .HOAARK-HOOOAARRRK. . .please!” The pig-woman’s snout twitched madly. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, passing by little baby tusks. 

“. . .ooooh fine!” Annette gave in, unable to say no to her most dear companion. She sat down at the little table and began to cut scoops of pie. The tender care and love was evident in both the cooking and cutting of the pie. Annette would not allow for her friend to suffer even the slightest discomfort if there was something she could do about it. In short order, Annette had cut the pie and placed a small piece into her hand. She lowered it, expecting to place it on the floor. She was surprised when Mercedes’ hot tongue and thick lip were nosing through her palm. “Oh! Ah! Mercie!” Annette jumped out of her chair. She danced around the room, her entire body feeling the sensation of ticklishness. She held her hand, as if something had happened to it. However, when she looked at it, there was only a clean palm. Framed behind it was a waiting Mercedes. 

“More please?” The pig asked through purple eyes and lustrous blonde hair. She moved as if to roll over, but her girth would not allow it. Instead, Mercedes rocked back and forth. Her stomach spread over the floor. When Annette took her seat again, Mercedes rolled over her small feet. Annette’s feet were obscured by a thick blanket of fat. One that she was helping to feed and cultivate. The small redhead put her hand into the pie dish and pulled out another thick morsel of sweet pie. Globs of candied fruit and well sugared crust spread in her palms. She lowered it to Mercedes who greedily lapped it up. Mercedes oinked and squealed, intelligible speech forgotten in a rush of emotion. Her snout, lip, and tongue tickled Annette’s hand. The redhead found herself smiling. At first from the strange ticklish feeling spreading through her body and then from the enjoyment of the act. Soon the pie was finished and Anette was going for a cake. 

The feeding continued on, with Mercedes licking her friend’s hand over and over. The two girls laughed and giggled as they had many times before. It mattered little that Mercedes was bound to four legs with hooves or that Annette’s hands were covered with her slobber. It was a sort of game and they were more than content to enjoy each other’s presence. Annette continued the feeding until all the food was gone. Mercedes stomach was filled to the brim and grew so taut that she had to be rolled onto her side. Annette sat next to her, rubbing her friend’s stomach. In the daze of emotions after the feeding, the small woman forgot to wash her hands. Mercedes’ hoggish drool was left to dry on her skin. 

--- Mud Bath ---

“Oooooh. . .snoooorrp. . .look whooscch. . .ooorraaak. . .come to join!” Mercedes said from the center of the converted bath. She was an island of pink in an ocean of mud. Warm and therapeutic clay bubbled around her lightly fuzzed skin. Bubbles would rise out of the muck, becoming huge and fat, then pop to spray mud in all directions. Mercedes lolled in the middle of the pool, enjoying the experience immensely. Her bulk was tickled by the constant bubbles, allowed to feel a little lighter than normal. Mercedes had undergone another growth spurt, shooting up several hundred pounds. Rather than a chubby pig, she was turning into a full fledged hog. However, she was no longer the biggest woman within Gerreg Mach. Nor was she the only pig. “Annie. . .come. . .hooarrk. . .cuddle with me!” Mercedes called as a familiar looking pig was led into the bathing room. 

“SNOOORRRK. . .HOOARK. . .BBBLOOORRUUP. . .Must I. . .Mercie?” Annette said, guttural belches and snorts taking up equal presence in her speech. The doorway to the bath was willed with squat but immensely wide piles of fat shaped into a quadrupedal form. “What h-iiif. . .HOOOIINNNK. . .we jussccht. . .ate. . .HOOORRRUUP. . .more?” Annette heaved her words out as she struggled to force her blubber through the door. She had grown fast, progressing through the stages of the curse at a pace faster than Mercedes. It was as if her body was doing anything it could to catch up to her best friend. In a matter of weeks Annette had said goodbye to walking on two legs, and joined her friend in smearing food across a broad snout. The two pigs were of a similar size, though Annette might have been bigger given her proportions. Her face was almost buried in sagging cheeks and a thick neck. Her gut drooped down low enough to brush the floor. Her oinks were bassy, promising future growth. She was led into the bath by Petra, who kept a wary distance. “I’m. . .snoooarrrk. . .schoo hungry!” Annette moaned, her mouth low to the ground and open. 

Mercedes smiled, looking at what the “curse” had wrought upon her friend. Though couched in a complaint, Mercedes was sure that Annette was enjoying herself. Annette had taken to certain parts of the pig life even quicker than she had. Though, she still had things to learn. “Now. . .hooooaaarpp-snooork. . .Annie. . .there’s more to. . .sooorrrnnnk. . .pig life than eating.” Mercedes spoke as slowly as she moved. Her hooves scraped the bottom of the tiled mud pit. Even through the thick and viscous slurry of the bath, she could feel her butt and belly jiggling. Her curly tail was fixed tightly between her enormous buttcheeks, dividing one mass from the other. Mercedes had to force her legs to move, making them remember that they had tasks to fulfill. Now approaching 800 pounds, their days of usefulness were numbered. For the moment, however, they could assist her in reaching the other adorable pig of Gerreg Mach. “Cooome on. . .cutie. . .SNOOORRRNK. . .roll a bit. . .with me!” Mercedes put her chin on the lip of the pool. She watched as Annette lumbered towards her. From her low perspective in the pool, Annette looked like a porcine goddess. 

“Buuut. . .BBBBLOOOORRRUUUP. . .Mercie. . .” Annette was too lazy to even finish her complaint. She waddled over to the edge of the pool and flopped down. The room shuddered at the sudden force thrown upon her. Annette snorted as Petra removed her collar. The foreign student quickly left the room, afraid of the communicable nature of the curse. Both pigs were happy for the solitude. It was nice to fill a room with their snorts, oinks, and wheezes without the interruption of humans. Mercedes began to lick and kiss Annette’s snout and fat bottom lip. Partially a greeting, partially a taste test, and partially a lustful gesture, much was communicated by the action. Mercedes felt the heft of Annette’s lip and the soft bulge of her cheeks. Under her jowls were forming tusks, brilliantly white and sharp. Mercedes’ own tusks had started to come in, poking out on either side of her lips. They were dainty and small, just a little visual spice to mark the blonde hog. “Mmmmhhhmmm. . .tasccte. . .OOOOARRK. . .anything good?” Annette smiled as she murmured. She wanted to hear the other woman list all that she had eaten. 

“Mmmgghp. . .jusccht. . .a. . .hoooinnk. . .moment.” Mercedes continued licking and kissing her friend. There was an exquisite play of flavors. Apples, fried meats, sugary cakes, raw sugar. Annette exemplified a pig’s ability to eat anything presented to her. Mercedes grew ever more excited as she tasted the past meals. She put her hooves to the lip of the pool and started to force her bulk out. She wanted to be closer to any source of food, or memory of it. Food was beyond just a means of life. To the two pigs, it was an indulgence, narcotic, and aphrodisiac all rolled into one. To eat was the purpose of life, with everything else adding flavor. “Annie. . . snooorrk. . .you’ve been busy.” Mercedes snorted with surprise and delight. She tasted something amongst the food. 

“Busy eating. . .HOOOA-LLOORRUP. . .and growing.” Annette rolled over, exposing her soft underbelly. It seeped out across the tile, full and taut but with obvious folds encircling the core of her gut. Annette breathed laboriously, as if the sheer amount of food in her was exhausting. Mercedes finished her investigation with a single kiss on her friend’s cheek. It was nice to see her adapting so well to the hooved lifestyle. Annette excelled at being a gluttonous hog with the same natural talent that came with her studies. However, there were still lessons to learn. Mercedes flopped back into the pool of mud, making sure to splash plenty onto the deck. Annette’s exposed tummy was soon dashed with warm clay. The clay rolled it’s way down, running off of the white hill of Anette’s stomach. “Hoooorrruup. . .Mercie!” The gigantic pig moaned. “Now. . .SNOOOORRRRP. . .Petra hasscch. . .to. . .oooiinnk. . .bathe me. . .again.” Annette was quick to assign responsibility to others. 

“But you like those!” Mercedes responded, lowering herself into the pool. Her many chins rested on the mud. She smiled as much as her porcine face would allow. “Plus. . .getting dirty would. . .HOOOAIINNNK. . .make more work. . .for her.” Mercedes watched as Annette slowly considered the idea. She could see the gears turning as the enormous redheaded pig thought of what other people would have to do on her behalf. No doubt, thoughts of getting hosed down while eating fresh fruit was what was playing in her mind. Annette’s stubby, thick legs kicked with gleeful visions. She started to roll over, slowly bringing her mass to bear upon her legs. Mercedes backed up as Annette’s shadow began to loom over her. The redheaded, freckled pig tested her legs, seeing if they might carry her into the mud pit. Quicker than Mercedes might have imagined, Annette threw herself into the pool.

The explosion of mud was like the fall away of a glacier making contact with the ocean. A plume of mud big enough to hit the ceiling shot up from Annette’s depth charge. A rolling tidal wave of thick, sludgy clay rolled outward. The deck of the bath was covered in steam mud. Mercedes was washed to the lip of the pool, 600 pounds moved easily by the force of her best friend’s depth charge. She blinked mud away from her eyes and shook her hair trying to clean it off. She watched as Annette rose from her dive. Though Mercedes was technically the bigger pig, Anette looked so much larger covered in mud. Her head breached the viscous goop, eyes fluttering open. She smiled, proud of the mess that she had made. She gave a loud bellowing snort, shooting some mud out of her snout. Mercedes smiled and started to approach her friend. “Annie. . .snoooorrk. . .hooooiiink. . .we might just make you a pig after all.” Mercedes said, rubbing her barrel belly against Annette’s. The other woman beamed, proud of her work. 

--- Petting Zoo ---

“Let us hurry, Hilda!” Flayn said, running through the streets of Gerreg Mach. “I so want to catch them as they eat!” Her black dress whirled about her skinny legs. Flayn’s vivid green eyes and hair shown in the sunlight, lustrous enough to give off their own light. She found her way through the streets of the citadel, working her way towards what had once been stables for horses and flying mounts. Now, however, they had been renovated to accommodate new inhabitants. Annette and Mercedes spent some of their time on display, proudly showing their bulk and transformation off to both inhabitants and pilgrims to the monastery. Oddly, the idea had come from the two pigs, who were almost desperate to show off the size they had attained. Gerreg Mach had no county fairs, so they had to invent a way of showing themselves off. Byleth had been quick to agree, eager for the porcine students to indulge to their heart’s content. With no cure in sight, it was easier to let the pair of friends enjoy their current situation. Further, it brought joy to certain members of the community. 

“Flaaaaayn, stop running.” Hilda trotted along behind the green haired woman. She had been woken out of a wonderful nap and was moving slowly. “They are going to be there for a while. There’s no reason to rush.” The lazy, pink haired beauty implored her charge. Flayn paid no attention, instead picking up the pace. Hilda sighed, brushing her hair back and trying to keep up. Before long, Flayn had disappeared from view and Hilda was left to jog through the cobblestone streets by herself. Thankfully, it was not hard to find the stables. Even if she had not visited the stables before, Hilda could have found her way easily. All she had to do was follow the smell of freshly baked goods and the sound of carts being unloaded. The monastery kitchens worked around the clock to make food. Byleth had increased the budget and the staff of the kitchens to keep up with the demands of her changed students. All of that food funneled into the troughs at the stables, and then into the mouths of Mercedes and Annette. 

Hilda arrived at the pen, half expecting to see the two pigs bathing in prepared food. Instead she saw an empty pen and an excited Flayn. She stood at the fence, hopping up and down. “Hilda! I’ve gotten us a spot right next to the trough!” The polite, modest woman shouted in utter glee. “Come join me, they are about to come out.” She waved a hand, inviting her lazy companion over. 

“Okay, okay.” Hilda brushed her skirt off and walked over. There was little need to hurry now that she had arrived at the pen. Instead, she could just enjoy watching her former classmates make utter disasters out of themselves. Hilda had seen the pair many times, and found them more intriguing on each visit. There was a strange, unexplainable sensation to seeing women she knew personally turned into ravenous but intelligent beasts. Hilda had been quick to come back time and time again, mentally measuring their progress. It had been nothing short of astounding. 

“Oh! I can feel them coming.” Flayn leaned over the railing and stared at the back of the enclosure. A curtain had been drawn up, lending some mystery to the proceedings. The assembled groups of townspeople never totally knew what would be coming out from behind the curtain. Flayn put her hand to the ground, feeling tremors. “Mercedes has to be first.” She guessed, able to tell the two apart just by how their hooves hit the ground. Hilda was amazed. Even she had not become so obsessed with the two hogs. Flayn stood on the lowest post of the fence, hanging over a trough that had been filled to the brim. Cakes, pies, cookies, and chocolates swam in thick and sugared cream. It was all the sorts of things that noble women liked to snack on, though delivered in a manner suitable for their new demeanors. Mercedes and Annette liked their meals big and messy. “There she is!” Flayn hopped down and put her arm around Hilda. She drug the lazy woman up to the fence, stronger than what her short frame would suggest. Hilda gasped as Mercedes pushed through the curtain. 

Big, huge, massive. All those words failed to cover the pig which waddled towards the trough. Mercedes’ stomach had to be greased and oiled so that it would slide along well. Her legs, or what was seen of them through sagging rolls, were splayed out to the side to accommodate her vastness. Her head hung low, thickened like the rest of her. She swung her large head to either side as she waddled along. Her lip was now fat enough to turn downwards, pulled by gravity as much as her floppy ears. Her hair had been trimmed in order to show off her roundness even more. Mercedes had just crested over half a ton and she could not be prouder of it. The ground shook even more as she approached the trough. Every step was met with a new oink or snort. Mercedes licked her lip and snout, toying with the little golden ring that punctured her septum. Hilda and Flayn noticed other golden trinkets adorning their friend and former classmate. From studious worshiper to obese idol, Mercedes seemed to be an icon of indulgence.

“Hey Mercedes!” Hilda yelled, waving excitedly. “How are you today?”

The gilded hog snapped out of delicious daydreams to answer the question. “SNOOOORRRP! Hello. . .HOOORRRUUUP. . .Hilda.” Mercedes shook her head, jiggling her drooping fat and jangling the many necklaces draped over it. She smiled, licking her fat bottom lip indulgently. “I’m. . .HOOOOIINNNK-HOOINK. . .HUNGRY!” The large woman-sow bellowed before shoving her snout into the mass of food. A turgid ripple went through the pool of melting confections. It was running and turning into sweet sludge, with trails of taste leading to the morsels that were mostly intact. Mercedes fed with her fat hanging over the lip, unable to keep her massiveness away from the edge. The trough shook and disgorged thick streams of cream on either side. Mercedes’ sweet demeanor fell apart as she ate. Flayn and Hilda were treated to the true face of gluttony and hunger. Mercedes stopped only to belch or snort in pleasure. 

“Mercedes!” Flayn took a daring move and leaned over the railing and gave her piggish classmate a light smack on the back she giggled as fat bounced against her fingers. “Where’s Annie at?” Flayn asked, making up for the smack with some tender rubs. 

“Mmmmgghp. . .SNOOOORRRP. . .coming.” Mercedes looked up from her food. Cream and bits of cake ran down from her many chins to drip onto the mud of the enclosure. A cookie was shoved through one of Mercedes’ tusks. The pearl white stabbers had grown in over the last month, finally making their presence known. It was the last true sign of hogdom, her transformation now completed. “She. . .OOOIRRNNK. . .needed help.” Mercedes beamed, just as proud of Annette’s growth as she was her own. It had, after all, been Mercedes to get the ball rolling. Without her, Gerreg Mach would be without its largest and hungriest hog. 

“I’m. . .SNOOORRRKKK. . .here!” Came a deep and sloppy voice. Hilda and Flayn looked back at the curtain. Mercedes returned to the trough, she needed to get all the food she could before Annette reached the trough. She slapped and slurped at the food, vacuuming it down. Her voracious eating caused a steady stream of ripples through the trough. In the midst of the constant stream there came another cadence of tremors. Mercedes’ troubled waddle had caused petite, adorable shaking within the earth. The passing of Annette, however, was something else entirely. One hoof would land, thumping through the trough. There would be a pause whilst the other woman collected her strength. There came soft cooing and whispers of encouragement behind the curtain. Annette had to be coaxed to food with more food. Flayn and Hilda watched the barrier sheet. First the slim back and per buttocks of Petra came through. She had become the unofficial pig keeper, with some students even giving her the moniker of Pig Girl Petra. She walked backwards, dangling a fat piece of cake in her gloved hands. Annette followed after, albeit at a tremendously slower pace.

The sheet flapped closed as Petra came out. Immediately it was blown open. Annette’s snorts were small tempests, blowing hot steam through the sheet. As soon as it fluttered closed, another hearty “SNOOOORRRPP!” would blow it open. The sheet was further pulled open by gleaming white tusks. These were not the dainty tusks that Mercedes had grown. Rather, these were true meathooks. The gleaming, curved teeth curved upwards into the bright sunlight. Thickened as much as Annette herself, the tusks had been punctured to adorn with rings and studs. Chains and golden mesh jangled beneath the tusks. Though as wealthy as Mercedes’, Annette’s adornments were barbaric and uncivilized looking. An almost full sized skull swung just beneath her large snout. Rather than a church fattened pig, Annette had become a boar idol. She was the kind of breast that stomped through the minds of early man, bending their worship to her with size and strength alone. 

“Mmmmth. . .sscchttill. . .HOOOOARRRNKK. . .lotscch for. . .UUUOOORRNNNK. . .me?” Annette asked as she waddled into full view. Hilda and Flayn gasped, realizing the true disparity between the two pigs. Annette’s hair was a wild mane, her orange hair having become a bonfire of color. Gold strands were weaved in along with totem fetishes. Her gut dragged fully upon the ground, allowed to be mobile only because of a small cart. She held her fat face low, her lip so plump that it hung down and wobbled in time with her chest fat. Petra would bend down, letting Annette feast and slobber over her hand to get the cake. It had taken hours of preparation to bake the cakes necessary to provoke the almost immobile boar into action. Annette devoured them in seconds. Her hooves dug into the ground, gouging up deep tracks from her weight alone. Dust and dirt were kicked up with her passing. Her tongue worked constantly, keeping her flabby bottom lip and snout moist. She hungered like nothing else on earth. A single trough of food, even without Mercedes, would never been enough to fill such a boar. 

“My Annie!” Flayn waved, nearly falling into the enclosure. “Your growth has been so substantial. How impressive!” The small woman stretched her hands, eager to squish bulging cheeks and tease floppy ears. Most people had a sense of fear around Annette now, sensing the bestial energy she radiated. Flayn, however, was invigorated by it. “Has Petra been sneaking you extra?” She teased the foreign student. 

“Pffffft . . .not. . .enough.” Annette rumbled with a shake of her head. Her voice had grown to match her size, echoing out from the pits of her gut. “I’ve. . .HOOOOOIINNNK. . .scchpoke to. . .Byleth. . .HOOOORRRP. . .huh-bout . .it.” Speaking was taxing the gigantic boar. Her sentences were prolonged with wheezes and snorts in between. She spoke of the ludicrous demands for food as if she was asking for more blankets. The already noble treatment received at the officer’s academy combined with piggish selfishness to create a monolithic ego. It was the worlds duty to wait on Annette. . .with some playful scraps thrown to Mercedes after. A boar must have a commensurately fattened sow for fun. “Mersshiiie. . .SNOOOORRP. . .schteallscch too.” Annette said, finally flopping down next to her friend, fellow hog, and part time lover. Though the boar was not standing, her belly fat was enough to push her up to the trough. Annette dipped her face in, her sips creating new currents and whirlpools. 

“That isscch. . .HOOOINNK. . .not true. . .Annie!” Mercedes rolled her flab into the 3-quarter-tonnage of her bestie. It was a footstool attempting to bully a sofa. Mercedes snuggled in deep, enjoying the feeling of her bulk being subsumed by Annette’s. For as selfish and brutish as she was becoming, there was peace in having a bigger hog around. Mud from Annette’s latest bath rubbed onto Mercedes. She nuzzled the sagging jowls and cheek folds, sampling sweat and food stains. Annette would feed before showing any attention to Mercedes, but after they could trade physical pleasantries. Mercedes demurely bowed away from her food, showing all deference to the boar that had outgrown her. It was Annette’s trough and she would just get the residuals, which would be plenty to grow still. Sloppy eating sounds came from the trough. Annette worked to find every possible combination of mouth slaps and sucks to show that she was eating. 

“These two are out of control.” Hilda spoke for the first time, seeing the rapacious and bestial nature of her classmates. “I could ride them into battle.” She reached over and stroked Mercedes’ back. “Maybe not though. . .they probably would just turn back to the food wagon.” Her hands brushed lightly fuzzy back fat. Rolls bunched up and pressed back against Hilda’s touch. A soothing sense came over her as she petted her classmate. Mercedes pushed her head up, indicating for her cheeks to be rubbed. Hilda rolled her eyes and began to smoosh the bowls of facial pudding together. 

“Of course not!” Flayn sounded offended at the suggestion. “These wonderful girls are meant to be petted and spoiled!” She practically dove forward to plunge her hands into the trough. They came up holding Annette’s cheeks. Flayn was nearly too weak to hold the flabby kettles. Annette snorted indignantly, wanting to return to her feasting. Flayn laughed gently. “Preeeecious piggy babies that need to be protected! That’s what we have here, Hilda!” She smiled. 

Both women continued to stroke and pet their respective pig. The world faded a bit, leaving only the trough and the warm blubber in either of their hands. It did not matter that they were covered in flaky mud or the run off of cream from the trough. It was about the tenderness. Even Annette, with her boorish attitude, had an inviting cuddliness to her. Hilda and Flayn worked their hands ever deeper into the flab. Unconscious thoughts and desires floated through their minds. They had seen how the pair lived, what had happened to them as the curse worked on, and heard whisperings of Byleth’s attempted solutions. Yet, the thoughts came anyway. They became stronger with each second of contact. The warmth of squishy skin and coolness of semi-melted cake icing sent shivers down Flayn’s spine. Hilda wondered if Mercedes wanted for anything. She was never told what to do or where to be. Rather, her life was lived in perpetual lazy bliss. A stillness wound through the air, finally broken by small utterances from the human women. 

“Ah!” Hilda said as a curly tail sprouted from her rear. 

“Oh!” Flayn cried, her tongue running over sharp tusks poking from her lips.