Make me into your perfect piggy

How many days had it been since she washed ashore on this island? She'd lost count...the strange pig man who'd taken her in didn't seem to keep track either. He was the only other inhabitant of the place...at first she'd been afraid of him, but he never seemed to have any ill-intent toward her. He never spoke, but seemed to understand English, and would sometimes grunt his assent to her questions. He shared his foraged food with her, showed her where to find clean water, taught her how to survive.

In fact the pig man had already made quite a life for himself, just using whatever flotsam washed ashore. His "hut" seemed to be made from the remnants of a wrecked cruise ship, with peeling wood panel walls and a dirty bed. The bed he always left empty...she could tell he'd been using it before she arrived, but he always curled up in the corner, leaving it for her. Each night her heart melted a bit more from his surprisingly gentlemanly behavior, and on a particularly cold night she invited him to sleep next to her, to share warmth if nothing else. And he WAS warm...and soft, like a big teddy bear. She gripped him tightly, wishing she could thank him properly for everything he'd done for her.

And one day, she knew. One day she watched him striding back from collecting logs for their fire, strong and toned in his own way, and he wasn't just some gross pig man...he was HER pig man. She wrapped an arm around him and squeezed, triggering a surprised grunt as he stared down at her. She took his hand and led him back to their hut, and told him she was ready. After some coaxing and reassurance, he was ready too...and as they coupled, she felt her nose push out into a snout, and new growths blossoming on her chest...and found it filled her with a rush of pleasure, to become exactly what he'd wanted, to finally give back to her pig savior.