Look How I Have Turned Out Sir

I stood before him, my arse aching from its initiation into the world of becoming my Master’s bitch. I felt the degradation burn on my cheeks and inside my violated arse.

He moved away from me and pulled up his jeans, tying his boots on again and returning to a state of being dressed as a real man should be, his genitals and arse now hidden in his tight jeans again, his bare chest still glistening with sweat after fucking his slave. Accentuating the difference one more time, as he stared at my face. He seemed to enjoy seeing the desolation on my face.

He stood up, fully dressed before me, his animal. I felt my nakedness fully as he looked into my eyes. “Fuck yeah. Nice to have my own fuckmeat to use whenever I want. Especially when it doesn’t want to be my fuckmeat.”

He stood before me and momentarily I looked at him in admiration. Inside my head, somehow my impression of him as a monster and captor was changing. I didn’t understand it but somehow I was now viewing him as my owner, my God. His body looked magnificent and it was somehow right for me to be his animal.

“I’m going out for last orders with my mate now. Go and get a few pints down the pub, shoot some pool. What about you ? Do you fancy a pint ? Do you want to come and have a chat down the pub with us ? Check out the local talent.”

I stood there, perplexed. Was he speaking to me ? Was he really suggesting that my torment was over and I could join him for a drink ? Maybe now that he had taken my arse and fucked me hard, reduced me to his plaything, his sadism had been satisfied and he was going to let me go ?

He turned and looked at me, and seemed to be waiting for an answer.

“I would do anything to be able to go for a drink with you Sir,” I replied, keeping my eyes downcast in case it should anger him.

He stood before me, bare-chested, and his face moved in front of me, inches from my bald head. He grinned and started to laugh. He then roared with laughter.

“Oh sorry. I forgot. I keep forgetting you are not a man anymore. Guess your days of beer are over now. My poor animal needs to stay here in its stall. From now on, when I go to the pub, I can sit with my pint and think of my animal all locked up naked in its stall. It’s time for my naked slave animal to get some sleep, so he can be productive for his Master tomorrow.” He rubbed my bald head and smirked.

I couldn’t believe he could be so cruel. As if everything he had done to me wasn’t enough, to then torture and taunt me with thoughts of what he was doing in his time as a free man, knowing that my time would be spent as an animal, naked and alone in my miserable cell.

“Please Sir, I beg You Sir, I would do anything to be free. Please set me free. I’m so sorry for whatever I did to you Sir,” I appealed, dropping to my knees in front of him. “Please Sean, I…”

I didn’t have time to finish the sentence. With a swift kick, his boot connected with my imprisoned genitals and I screamed in pain, doubled up on the floor in pain.

“Don’t you ever call me by my name pig. I am Master to you. I am your superior in every way and don’t you forget it. Remember your place pig slave.”

I grovelled on the floor before him and sobbed in defeat.

“Stand up,” he sneered, kicking my arse sharply and making me rise quickly to my aching feet. My groin screamed in pain as I stood there before him, exposed and hurting.

“I haven’t got time for a shower now slave after fucking your sorry arse. You’ve made me all sweaty and my sweat doesn’t pour off my hairy body like it runs off your smooth slaveflesh. I need to clean my armpits.”

He stood inches from me so that I could smell his body, the scent of a man. I looked at his hairy chest as he raised his armpits, placing his hands behind his head and flexing his pecs. I moved my head into his muscular armpit and licked feverishly, taking his man sweat into my mouth, before repeating the procedure with his other sweaty armpit.

“You are one sorry fucking loser boy. Licking a man’s armpits.” He let down his arms and pulled on a tight fitting shirt that no doubt was his clothing for his evening out in the pub. He grabbed me by one of my titty rings, pulling me towards my animal stall. I trotted pathetically behind, desperate to avoid him ripping my nipple from my body as we entered my stall.

He told me to stand in the centre of the cell and I saw that a heavy ring was embedded in the concrete floor, from which a chain was attached. He bent down and attached the chain to my right ankle manacle with a padlock. I was chained up for the night.

He exited my cell and returned with a black bucket, a bucket caked in old food and slop. He turned to the back of the cell and poured the contents into a shallow trough, which had been attached to the back wall.

“You must be hungry boy. This is your pigswill. Animal food. It’s exactly the same as the pigs get. You just get what’s left when they have finished.”

I looked at the disgusting mix of slop at floor level. It turned my stomach. Surely he could not be serious ? I looked up at him and my face must have betrayed my thoughts.

“Too good for animal food are you bitch ?” he growled, raising his arm and moving towards me.

“No Master, please Master don’t hurt me Master” I begged, cowering pathetically.

“I should fucking think so. You are an animal and you eat animal food. And if that trough isn’t completely empty by tomorrow morning, you will regret it slave. You had better get used to it, this is your daily routine from now on and I am not in the habit of varying the diet of my pigs. Pigswill at the end of the day. Your daily diet from now on slave.”

He moved out of the cell and looked back at me in triumph. In one day he had managed to capture me, strip me naked, remove my hair permanently, ring my body and lock my cock away as well as training me to be his urinal and his fuck bitch. I stood before him shivering and chained to the concrete floor, my pigswill meal the only comfort to get me through the night.

“Fuck me this has been worth the wait !” he sneered, looking me up and down with a smile.

“Sleep well pig. Welcome to your new life!” he shouted before slamming shut the door to my cell and locking it.

I stood for a moment, not quite believing my predicament. I heard his boots cross the barn floor before the light switch plunged me into darkness and he closed the barn door behind him.

And so began my first night as an animal, locked naked in my animal stall.

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As Master left the barn, I stood for a moment in my animal stall, naked and alone. I considered what to do for the remainder of the evening: it was still mid evening and even though I was shattered it would have been nice to crash in front of TV or play with my cock for a while. Of course, it was a ridiculous notion and the reality of my situation struck me. Simply speaking, there was absolutely nothing to do. I was locked in this tiny cell, with no stimulation and no way of getting comfortable. There was of course no form of entertainment, and there were no luxuries such as a blanket or even straw on the floor. My animal stall was bare concrete throughout. This was what my life consisted of now. I realised that I now had no belongings, not even basic items of clothing. My naked body was all that I had left, and this bare stall was my new home. Was this really how I was destined to spend my nights for the remainder of my life, locked naked and cold in this cell night after night with no prospect of freedom ? Truly an animal that was used to work, and then to pleasure my owner. Spending my evenings locked away when my use was over.

Relatively speaking, I was fairly free to move around the cell, with only an ankle chain restricting my movement as it chained me to the concrete. I paced around the edge of my cell like a caged animal at the zoo. A few steps in each direction was the extent of my freedom. I reached down and felt the chain attached to my ankle as my eyes adjusted to the dark of the cell. I pulled on it, testing its strength. The chain was thick and heavy and it was very clear that there was no way I would escape from it. I tested the iron ankle manacle itself and realised similarly that without a screwdriver there was no way I would be able to unscrew the tight hinge around my ankle. I was manacled in place and would be remaining there until he released me in the morning.

I stood there and considered what to do. It all seemed so bleak, so bare, so cold and miserable. Should I sit on the cold concrete or remain standing ? It was the first conscious choice I had faced that day. My every movement had been controlled so far, as slavery had taken its course. I sat down in the centre of my cell, feeling my bare shaved buttocks on the cold floor. I looked up at the bare walls around me and sighed. This was where I would spend my “free time” now, locked in a cell with no stimulation at all. I bowed my head and looked down at my naked, shaved, ringed body.

For the first time, I was free to explore my new body. I ran my fingers over my smooth head and felt a pang of fear: it had really happened. I was completely bald. I realised I must look so different just from this transformation. My friends and family would not recognise me with my head of hair gone I was sure, even less so with my nose ring. Horrified, I ran my fingers down my smooth body and felt my total emasculation, ending by running my hands down my smooth legs and onto my tortured feet. I could never be a man again now. Permanently naked and bald all over. With my smooth body, ringed nipples and tiny cock, coupled with the cum inside my arse, I felt like a gay sissyboy, an owned product of a real straight man who was now showing me that I was forever his bitch.

Tentatively, I cupped my imprisoned genitals into my hands and looked down at them desperately. For the first time since my slavery, my thoughts turned to a sexual nature and I understood how meticulous my Master’s planning had been. He had foreseen that this would be my only opportunity to escape my slavery and play with myself. He had somehow realised that this would have been my opportunity to have a few minutes when I was alone and could close my eyes and forget that I was an animal. I wanted to play with my tiny cock and gain some release. I wanted that most basic freedom. I felt my cock stir in anticipation of some release, and I ran my fingers down my bald cock, trying to prise some freedom that may suggest I could use it. My cock was after all used to its daily masturbation: I couldn’t remember the last time I had had a girlfriend. I had tried it a long time ago, but was always so conscious of the size of my cock. Girls never said anything, but I felt their derision and the relationship usually ended after we tried to make love. My cock had in some ways destined me to be a loner. Now in some ways I was of course the girlfriend, the fuck piece, of my Master and His Manly Cock.

I quickly realised that my cock was locked securely in place and no amount of pulling would gain any form of pleasure. I would be gaining no sexual release unless Master allowed it by releasing my cock ring. My shaved genitals were not mine to play with any more and I would have to accept that my days of masturbation were well and truly over.

The wind whistled above me in the eaves of the barn, and I pulled my knees up to my chin, sitting bare arsed naked in the middle of my animal stall. I continued to wonder how this whole situation could be true. I was sat stark naked in my cold cell as my Master sat in a warm pub, drinking beer and making small talk. All the time knowing that he had enslaved me, and that I was here imprisoned as a naked animal. I wondered how long it would take before the outside world missed me, worried about me and then surely would begin to forget me as my situation was completely hopeless. No-one would look for me here on this farm, no-one would open my cell door and release me. I sat there and mourned my former life, feeling Master’s cum oozing out of my arse onto the cold concrete below me.

This was my destiny, now and forever.

I sat there for a while, depressed as the realisation sank further in that my former life was over. Only yesterday I was free and yet now it was a whole world away from me. Memories of being free were all I had left. As I sat there, head in hands, I felt my stomach grumble. I had not eaten since yesterday lunchtime. I was desperate for food and I remembered what Master had said about eating my pigswill. I needed to eat, and I knew it was the only food I would ever get. I didn’t want to start my first full day of slavery with a sound whipping.

I rose to my feet and stood facing my food trough. It stank of rotting vegetables and smells that I had formerly, unconsciously, associated with animals in zoos and farms. And yet I knew I had no choice. I had to accept that this was now my food and I no longer would be fed human food.

I thought of scooping some of it into my hands. Then I realised that I had no means of wiping the mess from them afterwards. I knew that Master would expect me to eat with my mouth like an animal. With my stomach churning, I bent over the trough. I opened my mouth and slurped some pigswill into my mouth. The thought made me want to retch. However, I knew that would not ease my plight and so I tried to blank the stench and the putrid taste of the food from my mind as I slowly chewed.

I ate as much as I could, slowly and steadily. A further slide towards animalhood. And then I could eat no more, and sank slowly down to sit again on the cold floor of my cell, positioning my leg to accommodate the heavy iron chain around my ankle. How miserable and low could I get ? This empty, isolated, barren existence was something I would need to learn to accept. I had no choice.

After lying there for some time, I began to realise that there was no point in feeling sorry for myself as I could not remove my naked slavery. I needed to make the best of my situation and try to see some positives in my life as an animal. Service to my owner may have some rewards if I tried hard. He may offer me some reward, some freedoms and maybe eventually allow me to live as a man again. I could only grasp onto this faint hope of a better future, no matter how unrealistic and far away it now seemed.

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As the night became colder and my body began to ache from the reality of my isolated nakedness, I realised that I needed to relieve myself. I needed to both shit and piss. At first, I dismissed the idea from my mind and yet my body increasingly ached for both. I contemplated how and where this would happen in future. I felt sure that as a slave animal, I would not be using a urinal or toilet. There was clearly no toilet in my stall or in the barn itself, and I was sure that my Master would not be letting me use his house toilet. I felt that he would want me to piss and shit like an animal, outside as I worked or in my stall. I desperately did not want him to achieve this goal of animalising me in this way, but as the time went on, I realised that I needed to relieve myself.

The only solution appeared to be to go in the corner of my stall. Like the animal that I was clearly becoming, I walked into the back corner of my stall, next to my food trough and squatted on my bare haunches. I moved my chain to the side and released my bladder. The stench of strong urine filled my stall. I quickly realised that this was the first piss of my slavery, as the urine poured straight down into a solid stream onto the floor between my feet, splashing my legs and feet with piss. There was no way I could point my cock and direct it away from myself, locked as it was in its humiliating position. I simply squatted and watched the urine flow across my cell floor. In addition, I felt a steady flow running down under my balls and dripping from underneath my body.

Long after the piss had ceased, I squatted there in the corner in shame. My bowels were locked, preventing me from shitting and yet I knew I had to. And so, eventually, necessity overcame shame and I left a pile of foul smelling shit in the corner of my stall as well, cringing inwardly at the utter devastation of my humanity as I shitted in the corner of an animal stall. With no way to clean up my mess, and no toilet paper to wipe my shaved arse, I moved back to my sitting position and imagined the mess I had made in my stall. The thought of Master opening my stall and laughing at how far I had fallen once again filled me with dread and shame.

Finally, exhausted, I laid my tired and naked body on the cold concrete and stretched as much as I could over the bare concrete, now streaked with my own piss. My bald head found no comfort on the cold floor but I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep. I really could not believe that this was now my bed, and I cursed my Master who I knew would now be in his warm bed sleeping off the effects of his beer. I shivered with the cold and tried to get some comfort. But comfort would not come. I was destined to sleep in short, fitful bursts that night, alone and naked in my animal stall for the first time in my new life. Lying there worrying about what tomorrow would bring, and what further abuse I would suffer as a life of hard slave labour began.

It was a long, cold night and I awoke with the sunshine illuminating my bare cell early the next morning. Shafts of sunlight lit up the walls in the barn outside of my cell: a beautiful autumn day. And yet to me, it accentuated my imprisonment, as I lay chained naked to the floor. Friday was the start of the weekend and yet I knew such normal existence was now way beyond me, as days of the week seemed suddenly immaterial. It wasn’t as if I would be relaxing and getting a lie in any more: every day was to be a day of slavery and my whole life was now centred around the needs of another man who owned me.

I could not sleep properly, unaccustomed as I yet was to being an animal, and I rose and stretched, rubbing my arms over my shaved torso with the chill. I looked over at the pile of shit I had made in the corner and once again considered how far I had fallen. I then looked at the pigswill next to it, and closed my eyes in frustration. I was hungry, I was thirsty. I wanted a cup of coffee and some warm toast. But my mind told me to forget about the thought of such luxuries: they were for real men now. In my restless thoughts as I lay and shivered in the darkness, I had decided that as much as I hated my animal existence, it would be healthier for me to accept that I was now an animal whenever possible. It would make my life more bearable to accept my new position and try to deal with it, rather than making comparisons with my former life as a man.

I moved towards my pigswill trough and – though it made me feel ill – thought how wise it would be to eat the remainder of my animal food before my Master arrived. Tentatively I bent my head into the trough and picked up the freezing cold mush, chewing it down and trying to remember it was my place now. Although it was revolting and dehumanising, it was my food now and I had to accept it. Get used to it.

I was accustomed to getting up early, usually going for a morning jog and shower before school. I wanted to be free of this cell, to be able to go about my normal business. And yet I was imprisoned in my tiny cell, waiting for my Master to come and unlock me from here. He decided when I would be “freed”, and clearly he was enjoying a lie in, in his warm bed.

It was some time later when I heard the barn door open and the sound of Master’s boots in the barn. I could hear him wheeling in his wheelbarrow, and then the sound of him entering the animal stall next to my own. I lay there naked and still, listening to the sounds from the next cell. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly I heard a grunt that seemed to come from someone other than Master. I heard a heavy thud as something was tipped out of the wheelbarrow and I could hear the clink of chain. I then heard the familiar sound of the crank mechanism, and the sound of metal chains pulling something upwards.

Then my breathing stopped in horror as I heard Master’s voice in the stall next to mine, “There we are boy. All strung up and ready for your transformation.”

Clearly, there was a new person in the cell next to my own. And it sounded like whoever it was would be a fellow slave. My mind raced as I contemplated what this meant, and why he needed two slaves. Would the slave be someone else who he held a grudge against, maybe even someone I knew? Had he really kidnapped someone else?