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As always, any critiques or comments are appreciated, even if it's other situations you'd like to see written!", "writing": " Charlie huffed smugly to herself as her hooves clashed across the keyboard, shuffling scratches and clicks filling the air of the half-dark room, her computer’s screen illuminating her face in a flickering dull glow. There was little reason to turn the lights on, after all, her eyes worked fine. And that’d require moving. \n\n Something she had little intention to do, past shoving another cheese doodle into her waiting maw, teeth grinding it against her palate in a rotated motion that she did her level best to simply ignore the implications of, even while scratching a stubborn, stretching itch somewhere on the expanse of an udder that she similarly ignored. She was a man, after all, even if nobody in this stupid city believed her. Including her therapist. That she didn’t need.\n\n She could at least take out some idle frustrations by laughing at and with some friends, if nothing else. Teasing with varying levels of aggressiveness. Sure some may call it bullying, but it was all in good fun. \n\n “What’cha doin’?” A lilting voice broke the silence, venturing across the space behind the idle bovine, almost mocking, a titter hidden within its’ tone. High, feminine. “Telling yap that she yaps, obviously.” Charlie replied idly, not even batting an eye. Her headphones were on after all, and it was her own home. There was nothing to question. \n\n Except the fact it had come from behind her. \n\n And in an instant the bovine had spun in her chair, falling face first to the floor with the grace of a pile of dislodged bricks, a wheel having caught at the same time that her six and a half foot frame’s momentum overwhelmed the bases’ ability to hold things in place. The result? A cow whose neck was pinned against the ground by the back of her chair, her ass still lodged firmly within its’ comfortable embrace, her tail flicking in the air above through the small hole designed specifically for it. \n\n Glaring was the best she could do for a moment, dazed and transfixed on the form of the mirthful furball sitting on her couch. It was a red fox, she could tell that much. Much smaller framed than herself, not more than five-foot four, but there was a strange comfort in her stance. She was totally relaxed. In a stranger’s home. A stranger who was far larger, and thus, heavier, than herself.\n But absolutely not scared. No such thing was possible, not from bovines!\n\n Oh no, instead the twinkle in her eyes was so clearly rage, not alarm. “Who the heck are you?” She half-yelped, cursing her voice’s inability to hold level. It was too dark to make out much else than the short shorts and hoodie the fox wore, colors even went largely lost on her in the dull blue-grey blue of her screen, wholly unaware of the intruder. \n\n A mirthful smirk met the question, a raised eyebrow of challenging curiosity, dual parts questioning and uncaring. A smirk that didn’t meet the eyes, a strange twinkle in them that Charlie didn’t want to understand, she was sure of that much. “Awww, you’ve forgotten me so readily, Charlie? And here I was thinking you’d at least make the effort to remember my order.” Her uninvited guest pressed happily, mock hurt torn readily by the smile that warbled her words. \n\n It was then that the cow’s face fell, her ears falling low as her eyes knit and raised in alarm, pain, confusion, this fox knew her name… and then anger, steeled by burning recognition, and forceful conviction. “YOU! You’re the psycho that did this to me!” she nearly roared, its’ power greatly diminished by the compromising pose she hadn’t yet bothered to collect herself from – though the bovid rapidly fixed this failure, knocking the chair back in a way that harshly stung her tail, careening off into another corner as it creaked and rolled on its’ side. She could deal with that later. \n\n Hopefully nothing broke, though. \n\n “Fix me!” She demanded, pressing a demanding finger into the air, gaining confidence as her form drew to her full height and the fox put her hands into the air, shoulders spread. If only the smirk had faded, and the vulpine had bothered to look the least bit interested. \n\n “Why? You look so good, and clearly you’re adjusting well.” The vixen pressed in reply, her mock act falling as her countenance shifted entirely, throwing the bovine for a loop. Her ears fell, eyes widening quizzically – innocently, as her head cocked off to the side, a small half-frown tugging at her diminutive muzzle. \n\n She seemed genuinely confused as to how this was at all a problem. \n And so Charlie’s cloven finger shook for a moment, her arm loosening, allowing it to fall a few inches from rapt attention, her ears falling similarly from their accusatory alert to a loose confusion as her face fell. Only for a moment, though, before she wisened up. She’d dealt with this paragon of mental health before, the magical vixen had been the reason she was a cow at all, after all. A simple mistake on a bad day at work, and she was cursed a bovine for the rest of her life, thrust into a totally different plane of existence that didn’t even seem to comprehend what a human even was – let alone that this cow, clearly confused, had at one point been a man. Not a bull, a man. No matter how much she insisted and begged. No, instead she’d gotten a therapist she didn’t need! \n\n All because of this furball!\n\n “I do NOT look GOOD?!” Charlie yelped in reply after the second pregnant with shocked silence, at once indignant, her statement came out nearly as a question with the force of her displeasure. She grabbed harshly at her udder with three-fingered hands, allowing her withering point to fall away entirely as she hefted the perpetually milk-bloated organ upwards, allowing her hips to roll forwards as she raised unneeded emphasis to the pink ball of flabby flesh. “I don’t need this… this thing! It leaks all the time, it’s heavy, and I can’t even wear anything normal! It just hangs out! How is that good?!” She spat, yelps interspersed in such a way that it almost sounded like the adult cow’s voice was cracking. \n\n That at least got the vulpine to crack an entertained smile, genuine this time while it pulled at the corners of her eyes, the barest whisper of her minuscule pink tongue peaking from between her lips as it snaked between them, dragging a small arc before it vanished once again behind black lips. “But you’re so productive!~” she sung, clearly not seeing any problem at all with the situation – it was rather intentional, being so large and unwieldy, after all. How else was she supposed to make the milk for Luan’s coffee? Any to spare was simply a bonus gift to every other customer that so requested it. \n\n And it made the denial filled bovine squirm and deal with myriad frustrations since. She got her fun out of it. Her grin didn’t fade even as she stepped down from the couch, bouncing closer to the cow that seemed oh so discomforted by her presence uninvited – of no matter to her, she was uninvited most places that she went, after all. “Are you really so ungrateful for your new perspective?” She pressed, lilting with all the hidden venom of a snake poised to strike. There were many possible answers that the bovid could offer, sure, but she’d have to decide upon exactly which very carefully. \n Something that she wasted no time in not doing whatsoever, once again confused by the statement at hand for only a moment, her face a perfectly cow-like gape for a moment that brought a cheshire grin to the vixen’s countenance, entirely speechless. Unfortunately for Charlie, however, that moment was only so long, before her face twisted in surprise and exasperation, and she blurted out “Y-Yeah?!” Eyes wide with pointed disbelief. “Why would be I thanking you for taking away my humanity?? My manhood! I wanted that! I was using it!”. It was a true feeling, but unfortunately, not the answer that she should put forward in the situation that she’d found herself in.\n\n The ancient vulpine’s muzzle fell into a mild frown, brows furrowed in mocked hurt that, like many other disconcerting emotions, didn’t seem to meet her eyes. Instead, a simple comment leapt from her dark lips, nearly a bark. “Don’t be such a pig, Charlie.”, a flash of unexpected emotion that flew in the face of her strangely conflicting expressions. Was she… annoyed? It was nearly impossible to read with how rapidly small portions twisted from one apparent emotion to another like rippling water. \n\n Of course, foxes are known for their quick wits, and one quite so old as this vixen even more so. She’d done her time, and a fair share more than anyone could stand with their sanity in tact – and something far more entertaining had presented itself in an entertaining light, mischievous glint twinkling in her eyes as a single, comedic, party popper-esque flash had her vanishing from the couch in a lightning fast spark of pale blue light. \n\n Charlie’s ears folded immediately in unease, her muzzle faltering for what had to have been the dozenth time this interaction as her lip quivered – this fox, while largely harmless, at least so far as she thought – had already managed to rip her across entire planes once before – who was to say what she was capable of, and the bovid had little to no interest in finding out as her eyes darted across the remaining space in desperate search. \n\n Her reply instead was whiskers tickling her face, the fox having somehow managed to close the distance silently, and mysteriously taller than she swore she’d been a moment ago. Charlie’s blood ran cold even before the fox tittered into her ear, barely more than a smirking whisper – “’Sow about a change of pace, then, hmm?”, a laugh hidden beneath every word. The pale blue glow that illuminated the area around her once more, twisting in small baubles of smoke like flame, simply furthered her alarm. She knew what this was. This was how it all started. \n The aforementioned foxfire leapt towards the bovid an instant later, diving through her as though she wasn’t even there, a dull warmth waning in every spot that a ball of the stuff had touched. This was magic. The woman was insane. \n\n “Wait wait wait wait wait! You can’t do anything like this to me!” the cow yelped indignantly, leaping forwards and spinning on one hoof to fix the vulpine’s smug visage in her line. What she came upon was the smaller women supported upon a bed of nine massive tails, poised as though they were load-bearing limbs, defying gravity with her paws over a foot off of the floor below them, her body hanging belly-up, lounging from where she’d whispered faux nothings into Charlie’s ear. \n\n She didn’t move at all from that position, a lopsided, upside down sneer of demented excitement, at least from the bovine’s perspective, gracing her countenance. The vixen’s head cocked to the side in a way that seemed almost unnatural to the cow, at once predatory and sudden, while childish and curious. The raised eyebrow only punctuated the fox’s words, as she innocently lilted out a surprised, owlish “But I already did?”, as though it was entirely obvious, unquestionable. \n\n As though she didn’t understand why this might be so upsetting to someone… normal. At least as normal as Charlie figured that she could be. \n\n It was then that a wave of feverish heat washed over her entire body, focusing in evenly spaced rows of especially warm pits along the cow’s stomach, something deep within lurching strangely as vertigo overwhelmed her, a disoriented groan leaving her wavering muzzle. Something was wrong, and she knew exactly what. \n\n “What did you do?” She spat, a strange tone that she didn’t understand to the edge of her voice, a small pitch change, but one that her ears perked at – and refused to drop, even as their tips drooped. \n\n If only she had realized before jittering eyes finally returned to focus that in her moment of weakness, she’d found herself in an empty room once again, entirely alone. The insane trickster had left almost as suddenly as she had come, and there was no pop this time to announce her coming or going. \n\n “Frick!” Was the exclamation of choice after the realization dawned. The thought had been there to spit some more choice words, but she never knew the psycho may be listening, and whatever may be twisted into situations far worse than… whatever was starting now. Gods forbid she’d said ‘bitch’ or something of the like.\n None of that was among Charlie’s biggest concerns, however, as her body lurched one more, an aching shudder that brought her vision to swim as she dropped into vertigo once again. It was then that what was happening slammed into her psyche, where she once stood towering above most furniture in the room, it was now noticeably closer to her line of sight – and another lurch brought it all ever closer. Her udder twitched and shrank, splitting mildly from where it sat, small bulbs of breast tissue instead migrating across her stomach in two distinct rows as it gravitated away from her center-line, her breasts doing the same as they appreciably diminished, their tissue repurposed in flowing down a growing paunch. All of her material had to go somewhere after all – and if it was not contributing to height, it would have to contribute to her girth. \n\n Fat and muscle gathered around her middle, her hips creaking outwards with every new lurch and step her body took, swelling as though it was merely dough proofing in an oven. Newly adorned, of course, two distinct rows of perky, pink teats. Eight per row bobbed on her flesh, gaining heft by the second just as she herself did, the gained volume distributing increasingly the lower they snaked down her stomach. \n\n The Cow’s muzzle was experiencing a similar shift, darkening between her eyes as it rearranged, narrowing on the whole before her snout broadened once more, flaring into a flat spade with two massive nostrils gracing it. She twisted it unconsciously, confused at how it shifted, nothing like the muzzle she’d grown used to, a thankful distraction from the ache in the bone below that signaled her top row of teeth growing back into place, if in a different form than she may have initially wished for it to. Her alarm caused her to grind her teeth as she reached for her muzzle, noticing that even her cloven hands had darkened, her fur almost entirely having faded to a smokey brown, entire shades deeper than what it had once been. \n\n Her tail was simply the bow on the structural changes, twitching, convulsing, jolting her, and then falling into a languid curl, hanging lazily behind her considerably enhanced rear. \n\n Charlie didn’t need a mirror to see she’d gained weight, the pillow of flesh that greeted her the instant she looked down was plenty to go off of. What she hadn’t been expecting, was for the couch to now be level with her hips – having lost an entire foot easily, if not more so, as though it had never even been there. \n\n The only silver lining to her previous experience with such changes being how rapidly she could adjust the fact things had changed, only stumbling awkwardly under own shifting heft and sudden increase in jiggle physics a few times. \n\n She had widened considerably, laughably so – and something she didn’t care to admit cringed at the thought of what the scale would think, or if any of her clothes would change. \n\n Even hefting quietly at herself, she struggled to even count, let alone grasp the state of her mammaries, her front practically coated in them. If the familiar burning tingle was to be believed, she was even still lactating. \n\n A displeased snort left her at that, along with a stomp that she then promptly cursed her brain for, suddenly aware of just how much flesh there was to shudder from the sudden movement. \n\n A single dull pop left something fluttering down to the floor, twisting and turning, distinctly rectangular. Another snort of alarm and cowering had met it, but was rapidly forgotten while reaching for the misplaced article, bracing a hand against a pillowy thigh while she spread her stance and bent at the hip, considerable adjustment required against gravity if she wasn’t going to fall on her face.\n\n It was a small piece of paper, scrawled across it in nearly unrecognizable chicken scratch came a small note, and a familiar mask crudely doodled in pen. \n\n “If you can go two months without telling anyone about what happened, you’ll change back – I know for sure after this you’ll be feeling just swine. ;3” \n\n It was enough to tear a collection of piglike screams from the ex-cow’s muzzle, echoing down the halls beyond even her apartment. \n\n Everyone else merely wondered what had gotten into their new neighbor, and did their best to ignore the tantrum. ", "writing_bbcode_parsed": " Charlie huffed smugly to herself as her hooves clashed across the keyboard, shuffling scratches and clicks filling the air of the half-dark room, her computer’s screen illuminating her face in a flickering dull glow. There was little reason to turn the lights on, after all, her eyes worked fine. And that’d require moving.

 Something she had little intention to do, past shoving another cheese doodle into her waiting maw, teeth grinding it against her palate in a rotated motion that she did her level best to simply ignore the implications of, even while scratching a stubborn, stretching itch somewhere on the expanse of an udder that she similarly ignored. She was a man, after all, even if nobody in this stupid city believed her. Including her therapist. That she didn’t need.

 She could at least take out some idle frustrations by laughing at and with some friends, if nothing else. Teasing with varying levels of aggressiveness. Sure some may call it bullying, but it was all in good fun.

 “What’cha doin’?” A lilting voice broke the silence, venturing across the space behind the idle bovine, almost mocking, a titter hidden within its’ tone. High, feminine. “Telling yap that she yaps, obviously.” Charlie replied idly, not even batting an eye. Her headphones were on after all, and it was her own home. There was nothing to question.

 Except the fact it had come from behind her.

 And in an instant the bovine had spun in her chair, falling face first to the floor with the grace of a pile of dislodged bricks, a wheel having caught at the same time that her six and a half foot frame’s momentum overwhelmed the bases’ ability to hold things in place. The result? A cow whose neck was pinned against the ground by the back of her chair, her ass still lodged firmly within its’ comfortable embrace, her tail flicking in the air above through the small hole designed specifically for it.

 Glaring was the best she could do for a moment, dazed and transfixed on the form of the mirthful furball sitting on her couch. It was a red fox, she could tell that much. Much smaller framed than herself, not more than five-foot four, but there was a strange comfort in her stance. She was totally relaxed. In a stranger’s home. A stranger who was far larger, and thus, heavier, than herself.
 But absolutely not scared. No such thing was possible, not from bovines!

 Oh no, instead the twinkle in her eyes was so clearly rage, not alarm. “Who the heck are you?” She half-yelped, cursing her voice’s inability to hold level. It was too dark to make out much else than the short shorts and hoodie the fox wore, colors even went largely lost on her in the dull blue-grey blue of her screen, wholly unaware of the intruder.

 A mirthful smirk met the question, a raised eyebrow of challenging curiosity, dual parts questioning and uncaring. A smirk that didn’t meet the eyes, a strange twinkle in them that Charlie didn’t want to understand, she was sure of that much. “Awww, you’ve forgotten me so readily, Charlie? And here I was thinking you’d at least make the effort to remember my order.” Her uninvited guest pressed happily, mock hurt torn readily by the smile that warbled her words.

 It was then that the cow’s face fell, her ears falling low as her eyes knit and raised in alarm, pain, confusion, this fox knew her name… and then anger, steeled by burning recognition, and forceful conviction. “YOU! You’re the psycho that did this to me!” she nearly roared, its’ power greatly diminished by the compromising pose she hadn’t yet bothered to collect herself from – though the bovid rapidly fixed this failure, knocking the chair back in a way that harshly stung her tail, careening off into another corner as it creaked and rolled on its’ side. She could deal with that later.

 Hopefully nothing broke, though.

 “Fix me!” She demanded, pressing a demanding finger into the air, gaining confidence as her form drew to her full height and the fox put her hands into the air, shoulders spread. If only the smirk had faded, and the vulpine had bothered to look the least bit interested.

 “Why? You look so good, and clearly you’re adjusting well.” The vixen pressed in reply, her mock act falling as her countenance shifted entirely, throwing the bovine for a loop. Her ears fell, eyes widening quizzically – innocently, as her head cocked off to the side, a small half-frown tugging at her diminutive muzzle.

 She seemed genuinely confused as to how this was at all a problem.
 And so Charlie’s cloven finger shook for a moment, her arm loosening, allowing it to fall a few inches from rapt attention, her ears falling similarly from their accusatory alert to a loose confusion as her face fell. Only for a moment, though, before she wisened up. She’d dealt with this paragon of mental health before, the magical vixen had been the reason she was a cow at all, after all. A simple mistake on a bad day at work, and she was cursed a bovine for the rest of her life, thrust into a totally different plane of existence that didn’t even seem to comprehend what a human even was – let alone that this cow, clearly confused, had at one point been a man. Not a bull, a man. No matter how much she insisted and begged. No, instead she’d gotten a therapist she didn’t need!

 All because of this furball!

 “I do NOT look GOOD?!” Charlie yelped in reply after the second pregnant with shocked silence, at once indignant, her statement came out nearly as a question with the force of her displeasure. She grabbed harshly at her udder with three-fingered hands, allowing her withering point to fall away entirely as she hefted the perpetually milk-bloated organ upwards, allowing her hips to roll forwards as she raised unneeded emphasis to the pink ball of flabby flesh. “I don’t need this… this thing! It leaks all the time, it’s heavy, and I can’t even wear anything normal! It just hangs out! How is that good?!” She spat, yelps interspersed in such a way that it almost sounded like the adult cow’s voice was cracking.

 That at least got the vulpine to crack an entertained smile, genuine this time while it pulled at the corners of her eyes, the barest whisper of her minuscule pink tongue peaking from between her lips as it snaked between them, dragging a small arc before it vanished once again behind black lips. “But you’re so productive!~” she sung, clearly not seeing any problem at all with the situation – it was rather intentional, being so large and unwieldy, after all. How else was she supposed to make the milk for Luan’s coffee? Any to spare was simply a bonus gift to every other customer that so requested it.

 And it made the denial filled bovine squirm and deal with myriad frustrations since. She got her fun out of it. Her grin didn’t fade even as she stepped down from the couch, bouncing closer to the cow that seemed oh so discomforted by her presence uninvited – of no matter to her, she was uninvited most places that she went, after all. “Are you really so ungrateful for your new perspective?” She pressed, lilting with all the hidden venom of a snake poised to strike. There were many possible answers that the bovid could offer, sure, but she’d have to decide upon exactly which very carefully.
 Something that she wasted no time in not doing whatsoever, once again confused by the statement at hand for only a moment, her face a perfectly cow-like gape for a moment that brought a cheshire grin to the vixen’s countenance, entirely speechless. Unfortunately for Charlie, however, that moment was only so long, before her face twisted in surprise and exasperation, and she blurted out “Y-Yeah?!” Eyes wide with pointed disbelief. “Why would be I thanking you for taking away my humanity?? My manhood! I wanted that! I was using it!”. It was a true feeling, but unfortunately, not the answer that she should put forward in the situation that she’d found herself in.

 The ancient vulpine’s muzzle fell into a mild frown, brows furrowed in mocked hurt that, like many other disconcerting emotions, didn’t seem to meet her eyes. Instead, a simple comment leapt from her dark lips, nearly a bark. “Don’t be such a pig, Charlie.”, a flash of unexpected emotion that flew in the face of her strangely conflicting expressions. Was she… annoyed? It was nearly impossible to read with how rapidly small portions twisted from one apparent emotion to another like rippling water.

 Of course, foxes are known for their quick wits, and one quite so old as this vixen even more so. She’d done her time, and a fair share more than anyone could stand with their sanity in tact – and something far more entertaining had presented itself in an entertaining light, mischievous glint twinkling in her eyes as a single, comedic, party popper-esque flash had her vanishing from the couch in a lightning fast spark of pale blue light.

 Charlie’s ears folded immediately in unease, her muzzle faltering for what had to have been the dozenth time this interaction as her lip quivered – this fox, while largely harmless, at least so far as she thought – had already managed to rip her across entire planes once before – who was to say what she was capable of, and the bovid had little to no interest in finding out as her eyes darted across the remaining space in desperate search.

  Her reply instead was whiskers tickling her face, the fox having somehow managed to close the distance silently, and mysteriously taller than she swore she’d been a moment ago. Charlie’s blood ran cold even before the fox tittered into her ear, barely more than a smirking whisper – “’Sow about a change of pace, then, hmm?”, a laugh hidden beneath every word. The pale blue glow that illuminated the area around her once more, twisting in small baubles of smoke like flame, simply furthered her alarm. She knew what this was. This was how it all started.
 The aforementioned foxfire leapt towards the bovid an instant later, diving through her as though she wasn’t even there, a dull warmth waning in every spot that a ball of the stuff had touched. This was magic. The woman was insane.

 “Wait wait wait wait wait! You can’t do anything like this to me!” the cow yelped indignantly, leaping forwards and spinning on one hoof to fix the vulpine’s smug visage in her line. What she came upon was the smaller women supported upon a bed of nine massive tails, poised as though they were load-bearing limbs, defying gravity with her paws over a foot off of the floor below them, her body hanging belly-up, lounging from where she’d whispered faux nothings into Charlie’s ear.

 She didn’t move at all from that position, a lopsided, upside down sneer of demented excitement, at least from the bovine’s perspective, gracing her countenance. The vixen’s head cocked to the side in a way that seemed almost unnatural to the cow, at once predatory and sudden, while childish and curious. The raised eyebrow only punctuated the fox’s words, as she innocently lilted out a surprised, owlish “But I already did?”, as though it was entirely obvious, unquestionable.

 As though she didn’t understand why this might be so upsetting to someone… normal. At least as normal as Charlie figured that she could be.

 It was then that a wave of feverish heat washed over her entire body, focusing in evenly spaced rows of especially warm pits along the cow’s stomach, something deep within lurching strangely as vertigo overwhelmed her, a disoriented groan leaving her wavering muzzle. Something was wrong, and she knew exactly what.

 “What did you do?” She spat, a strange tone that she didn’t understand to the edge of her voice, a small pitch change, but one that her ears perked at – and refused to drop, even as their tips drooped.

 If only she had realized before jittering eyes finally returned to focus that in her moment of weakness, she’d found herself in an empty room once again, entirely alone. The insane trickster had left almost as suddenly as she had come, and there was no pop this time to announce her coming or going.

 “Frick!” Was the exclamation of choice after the realization dawned. The thought had been there to spit some more choice words, but she never knew the psycho may be listening, and whatever may be twisted into situations far worse than… whatever was starting now. Gods forbid she’d said ‘bitch’ or something of the like.
 None of that was among Charlie’s biggest concerns, however, as her body lurched one more, an aching shudder that brought her vision to swim as she dropped into vertigo once again. It was then that what was happening slammed into her psyche, where she once stood towering above most furniture in the room, it was now noticeably closer to her line of sight – and another lurch brought it all ever closer. Her udder twitched and shrank, splitting mildly from where it sat, small bulbs of breast tissue instead migrating across her stomach in two distinct rows as it gravitated away from her center-line, her breasts doing the same as they appreciably diminished, their tissue repurposed in flowing down a growing paunch. All of her material had to go somewhere after all – and if it was not contributing to height, it would have to contribute to her girth.

 Fat and muscle gathered around her middle, her hips creaking outwards with every new lurch and step her body took, swelling as though it was merely dough proofing in an oven. Newly adorned, of course, two distinct rows of perky, pink teats. Eight per row bobbed on her flesh, gaining heft by the second just as she herself did, the gained volume distributing increasingly the lower they snaked down her stomach.

 The Cow’s muzzle was experiencing a similar shift, darkening between her eyes as it rearranged, narrowing on the whole before her snout broadened once more, flaring into a flat spade with two massive nostrils gracing it. She twisted it unconsciously, confused at how it shifted, nothing like the muzzle she’d grown used to, a thankful distraction from the ache in the bone below that signaled her top row of teeth growing back into place, if in a different form than she may have initially wished for it to. Her alarm caused her to grind her teeth as she reached for her muzzle, noticing that even her cloven hands had darkened, her fur almost entirely having faded to a smokey brown, entire shades deeper than what it had once been.

 Her tail was simply the bow on the structural changes, twitching, convulsing, jolting her, and then falling into a languid curl, hanging lazily behind her considerably enhanced rear.

 Charlie didn’t need a mirror to see she’d gained weight, the pillow of flesh that greeted her the instant she looked down was plenty to go off of. What she hadn’t been expecting, was for the couch to now be level with her hips – having lost an entire foot easily, if not more so, as though it had never even been there.

 The only silver lining to her previous experience with such changes being how rapidly she could adjust the fact things had changed, only stumbling awkwardly under own shifting heft and sudden increase in jiggle physics a few times.

 She had widened considerably, laughably so – and something she didn’t care to admit cringed at the thought of what the scale would think, or if any of her clothes would change.

 Even hefting quietly at herself, she struggled to even count, let alone grasp the state of her mammaries, her front practically coated in them. If the familiar burning tingle was to be believed, she was even still lactating.

 A displeased snort left her at that, along with a stomp that she then promptly cursed her brain for, suddenly aware of just how much flesh there was to shudder from the sudden movement.

 A single dull pop left something fluttering down to the floor, twisting and turning, distinctly rectangular. Another snort of alarm and cowering had met it, but was rapidly forgotten while reaching for the misplaced article, bracing a hand against a pillowy thigh while she spread her stance and bent at the hip, considerable adjustment required against gravity if she wasn’t going to fall on her face.

 It was a small piece of paper, scrawled across it in nearly unrecognizable chicken scratch came a small note, and a familiar mask crudely doodled in pen.

 “If you can go two months without telling anyone about what happened, you’ll change back – I know for sure after this you’ll be feeling just swine. ;3”

 It was enough to tear a collection of piglike screams from the ex-cow’s muzzle, echoing down the halls beyond even her apartment.

 Everyone else merely wondered what had gotten into their new neighbor, and did their best to ignore the tantrum.   ", "pools_count": 0, "title": "Don't be such a pig, Charlie!", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/plain", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "2", "name": "Nudity", "description": "Nonsexual nudity exposing breasts or genitals (must not show arousal)", "rating_id": "1" }, { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "6" }