I was so thankful to her for everything she had taught me. It felt good to be precise and to do something right. And I loved the attention I got when ... did a tumbling pass taking advantage of the skills I had learned when I was younger and had taken gymnastics. I loved that my family came out to support me to watch me from the stands and to see my sister sitting there wishing she was me. I loved seeing my boyfriend in the stands looking at me, hopefully admiring my body in my uniform. I somehow. Prologue:A heavy set man slams his fist down on the head of a small crying boy who is knuckling his eyes with his small hands.“Wa, wa, wa! You want your mommy! What are you, a girl?”The boy glares at the man, his cheeks covered in tear tracks as he yells, “I’m not a girl!”****************************************************A couple of years later the same man is dragging the same boy, this time wrapped in fish sausages toward a trapdoor, from which the sound of a hundred cats wailing for food. "I see. Those are good feelings then." Yes," I responded truthfully, "but I can't satisfy them without you here." You always were my angel," he said. "No one could make me feel as good as you did."My heart ached when he said that, as I fondly remembered the times I shared with him. Ever since I was a girl, we were close. Closer than a father and daughter should have been, perhaps. He had talked to me about that quite a bit. I didn't always understand why it was so forbidden, but I obeyed his. Whiskers sprouted from around and under their new noses, while tails started to sprout from their asses. Their fingers folded into fists, then hardened into hooves. Their voices, so high-pitched when they laughed at others' misfortune, turned harsh and guttural as their cries turned into grunts and squeals. They were not men, nor were they pigs... they were pig-men, knowing nothing now of dungeons and dominants, only knowing the needs of pigs: to eat, to wallow, to shit... and to rut.Even in.