Look How I Have Turned Out Sir

It was several hours of backbreaking labour, chained naked to the generator and running around at a steady pace before Master returned. Several hours of mind-numbing tedium, coupled with extreme frustration and anger at our humbling predicament. It was dusk before he returned to stand at the side and watch our sweating bodies toil mercilessly before him. As I passed him, pushing my heavy bar, I glanced at his face and despaired at the triumphant sneer that signalled his total domination over us.

Finally, he shouted that we were to stop, and we brought the machine to a slow halt. The sound of the buzzer roused me briefly from the feeling of relief as I worried about another painful jolt up my arse. Master simply laughed and shouted that we were to expel our metal butt plugs. As our hands were chained to the bar, we had no choice other than to shit the metal plugs out of our arse, where they had painfully chafed our insides for the whole of the day. I gasped in relief as I felt my arse chute free from its painful invader. Such simple freedoms were wonderful.

It was dusk and it was cold. I could see my ragged breath condensing in the air before me, and yet my body was warm. The effort of a full day of naked hard manual labour had taken its toll. I was learning what it was like to be a beast of burden, naked and compelled to work non-stop in gruelling conditions. As Master released my chain from the beam, I collapsed to my knees in exhaustion and knelt in the dirt at his feet.

After Brad was released and brought over to kneel next to me, Master grabbed our hoods and pulled them roughly off our heads. My head buzzed as the blood started to flow again after two days of skin tight rubber and my jaws ached as Master removed his socks from inside our mouths. My mouth felt disgusting. I had of course not been given any toothpaste since my captivity and now a disgusting taste of feet pervaded my dry mouth as I tried to circulate some feeling back into my mouth.

I looked at Brad and saw the same look of despair on his face. He too was struggling to comprehend what had become of us as we knelt there naked on the filthy floor. Would our misery never end ?

Master grabbed his whip and told us to follow him out of the small building on all fours. Our limbs ached, and our tired minds were desperate for some stimulation and the ability to speak to each other. The opportunity did not come however. We simply followed our owner out of the building, conscious that he was dressed in his warm clothing and his heavy boots as we grovelled naked at his feet.

The cold air hit the sweat on my body and cooled me instantly to a shivering crawling pig. For the first time that I could remember, I was not in heavy chains. However I did not even dare to attempt escape. Master held all the aces as we crawled at his feet. Exhausted and weakened as we were, there is no way that we could have escaped Master’s grip.

Master started to move across the muddy field and we crawled behind him, our imprisoned cocks hanging down in our bare, shaved groins as we scrabbled in the mud. Have you ever crawled naked across a muddy field ? Of course you haven’t. You are a normal human being. I shook my head in disbelief as I realised what I was doing, submitting to this treatment meekly so as to avoid being punished. A total animal. I crawled behind Brad, watching his mighty arse cheeks and thighs from behind: watching his low hanging balls and his caged cock dangling down towards the dirt. Around us, we could see the pigs together in small groups in their field and I began to understand with a sickening realisation that there was absolutely no difference now between the naked, filthy pigs and us naked, filthy manpigs. We were of no higher status than these animals, we ate the same food as them, our naked bodies were always exposed like theirs. In fact, we were treated as lower than them in status by our Master.

As we reached the half way point across the field, a large rectangular mud pool loomed before us in the centre of the field, where the land dipped down to a central small plateau in the field. Master stopped at the edge of the pool. He looked down at us, our hands and lower legs invisible under the layer of thick mud and pigshit at his feet.

“Poor little piggyboys. Feeling sorry for yourselves boys ? If you want to eat tonight pigs, you can show me how low you have fallen. Get in there.”

We crawled into the mud pool and, under the instructions of our sadistic Master, we rolled around in the cold, stinking mud. It covered our bodies in the foul smelling mud until we really were unrecognisable as human beings. Everything from our torsos and limbs, down to our bare heads and our imprisoned cocks were caked in icy mud. And then, following precise instructions from our owner as he stood at the side of the pool and laughed aloud at our ridiculous position, he watched as we were made to stand in the middle of the pool and rub our bodies tightly against each other, then kiss. We stood before each other, and looked into each others’ eyes. It was the only recognisable feature as we kissed passionately, our mud engrained lips embracing to amuse our watching owner. The stimulation of the mud as we rubbed each other’s bodies, coupled with the fact that this was the only contact and compassion we had seen for days, started to stimulate us both. In horror, I realised that my tiny cock was trying to get hard as I rubbed up against Brad, and I could see also that his cock was expanding in its cage. I wanted to scream in pain as my cock was prevented from following its natural course by the cruel rings. And yet still we kissed, standing there caked in mud from head to toe as our Master stood there and watched.

As the darkening gloom enveloped us, we followed Master out of the mud pool when his entertainment was over, and we crawled behind him towards a dimly lit stall. We reached the last few yards between us and the building, and I became aware that our animal companions the pigs were all around us. Master stopped before the door of the pig pen and paused to padlock a thick chain to our metal collars.

He moved inside the pen and we could see him spreading pigswill into the troughs inside. The pigs around us seemed oblivious to the fact that we were there with them, and started to jostle in the mud for positions around us. Clearly, even to the pigs, we could not be seen as human. We were simply animals like them, waiting for our food. A human would not be on all fours naked in the mud.

Master finished spreading the food and opened the door to the pen. The pigs pushed forward into the pen and started to scoff from the trough. Master slapped Brad hard on his bare arse and shouted “Go get your food piggy boy.”

We hadn’t eaten for days. We hadn’t had any drink for days. Although I didn’t want to feel this latest humiliation of eating slop with the pigs, I knew that it would be our only opportunity to eat. Side by side, we crawled into the pen and found ourselves a section of trough. As we knelt before the trough, I looked sideways at Brad. His face was streamed with tears as he lowered his head and started to eat the disgusting mixture. As our Master leant on the door to the pen, he watched his pigs from behind. The only difference between us and the other pigs was his knowledge that we did not want to live the life of a naked pig, a farm animal.

We would have given anything to be a man again. To wear clothes. To be allowed freedom. To watch TV. He had not only enslaved us but de-humanized us. And we meekly knelt there to feed, powerless to prevent his total degradation of us.

Finally we finished and Master released our chain from the post at the door. Pulling us along, he ushered us into a bare brick stall and chained us to a central post. We knelt before him, sub-human in our appearance now as he removed his warm coat and sat on a stool. He pulled out a small book and started to do some reading, sat there on the stool.

I looked at Brad and Brad looked back again. We were grovelling at his feet as he read his book, and there was nothing for us to do. We were of course forbidden to speak. He was clearly emphasising the difference between us as he read his book and we shivered naked at his feet.

Finally, he stood up and stretched. Without a word, he walked over to Brad. He positioned his body on all fours, legs and arms spread. Taking something out of his pocket, he went behind Brad and with a grunt started to push something inside him.

Brad cried in pain as Master pushed the dildo in and out of his exposed arse. His shivering body begged his Master for mercy as he pleaded in whimpers for Sean to stop. Sean ignored Brad’s pleas, his only response to pull downwards on Brad’s exposed balls when he dared to speak human words.

I knelt and watched, too afraid to draw attention to myself, as my friend was raped with the dildo. It was clear that Sean could do as he liked with us now, and there was nothing we could do to prevent his sadistic treatment of our exposed bodies.

Finally, Brad slumped to the floor in defeat when Master stopped invading his arse. With a kick, he responded to his Master’s order to kneel before Sean on his stool.

From across the room I looked at the scene before me. My two former pupils, one of them sitting comfortably on the stool in his full clothing as he looked down at the other kneeling naked on the floor before him, his mighty naked body covered in mud.

I held my breath to listen as Sean spoke softly to Brad. He held Brad’s face upwards so that Brad was forced to look into the eyes of his tormentor as he spoke.

“You know, it’s a real shame what has happened to you Bradley. Only nineteen years of age, your whole life ahead of you. You should be out driving your car, meeting up with your mates for drinks, shagging your girlfriend. Such a handsome hunk.”

He paused and let his words sink in.

“And yet look at you. Instead of that, you will be spending the rest of your life naked, wasting your life as a farm animal. Being used as an object of humiliation to satisfy my sexual drive, when your own cock is locked away. It’s not fair, is it?”

Brad’s head slumped and he appealed to Sean. “Please Sir. Please. I would do anything to be released. Please, you have the power to give me my life back again. Please don’t do this to me Sir. I beg you. What can I do ? What can I give you ?”

Sean chuckled and rubbed his hand across his pet’s bald head and Mohican. “That’s just it though Brad. The only thing you have anymore is your body, and I already can do whatever I want with that anyway. I already own you. Out there they have started a search for you and your boyfriend. Quite a big story in the press. Your parents have even offered a reward for your safe return. Even your rugby club have offered some reward. But of course they don’t know you are animals on a farm now. They wont find you here. So my advice is to forget about your past life and accept your new status.”

He stood up, towering before Brad who had dissolved in tears at the mention of the reward. Somehow, the fact that people were missing us made the whole situation seem even more desperate in that release was impossible.

“There is one thing you could do though Brad,” Sean stated.

Brad looked up as Master moved towards me. Reaching to the wall, Master pulled down a set of ankle manacles and chained them in place on me. Pulling me to the back of the stall, he rolled me onto my back. Without a word, he grabbed my ankle manacles and pulled them upwards. With a final push, he attached the chain to a hook on the wall.

I lay there, my head and upper body on the ground, my spread legs chained above me and my arse open wide in the air.

Master moved over to Brad and told him to stand. Without a word, Master unlocked Brad’s cock from its prison and released it. He stood before Brad and rubbed his cock into life. Of course, it did not take long before Brad’s cock stirred into life and reacted to its freedom.

“You have a proper cock Brad. A man’s cock. What a shame it will only be released once every few weeks. Still, better than not at all like that bitch. But just remember Brad that if it wasn’t for that bitch you would not be here. Your life has been wasted because of your closeness to that manbitch over there. It was his faults, his arrogance, his pride in you that got you enslaved. I only did it to upset him. I only took your life away as a demonstration of my power over him.”

“But its not fair Sir. Please Sir, don’t do this to me,” Brad whimpered, his body gyrating and his face betraying his intense satisfaction as Sean rubbed his free cock.

“I can’t set you free Brad. I need to keep you as my animal. But I can give you some revenge.” He motioned towards me, and pushed Brad in my direction.

“It’s the only pussy you will ever get now. And you won’t be allowed to cum often. So you had better take advantage whenever I let you free.”

Brad looked from Sean to me and he realised that Sean’s words were true. He knew he would never be released, and he knew that he needed relief. He stood before me and I looked up at him from between my outstretched legs. My arse quivered as I felt Brad’s body touch mine. I saw the doubt flicker in Brad’s eyes: he was a straight boy. But then I saw the recognition dawn that I was his pussy now, and he needed to cum. I closed my eyes as he positioned himself at my hole. And with one animalistic grunt, he pushed against my hole and his cock plunged inside me.

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Our life had settled into a routine. It must have been three or four months since our capture, and any hope of release from our naked slavery had long since faded. We had no concept of dates any more, of times of the day or of the normal passing of the human world. As naked animals, time was irrelevant to us.

Our waking moments were spent in constant toil as beasts of burden. We spent days toiling on the electricity generator. We knew that the potential use of this as a source of income for Master was virtually nil. It was simply a means of teaching us our place in life, toiling endlessly with no reward other than jolts of electricity up our abused arses if we ceased to toil. Master did not need to employ farm hands any more.

We spent days on our hands and knees, from dawn until dusk, our bodies hobbled by severe chains, pulling up crops from the ground with our bare hands. Master came and watched our progress at intervals, eager to lash a whip across our backs if he felt we were too slow, but we were often left alone like this, naked in the freezing winter cold. Our days would end with the chain between ankles and wrists removed and tied to the back of Master’s tractor. Our return to the farm was no longer a jog though, we now sprinted behind the tractor with Master not even giving a backwards glance as he returned at a steady pace back to the farm buildings. Regardless of incline, of weather or of ground conditions. Our naked bodies abused as we ran at full pelt, chains and metal adornments flying in the wind.

Thankfully, our scarecrow duty appeared to only be on a cycle of once per week. Ironically, this was the most agonising of all of our duties even though it simply involved our crucifixion on the cross for a 24 hour period. Again, we knew that our actual role of scarecrows was meaningless, not least because the field contained no crops other than mud. However, Master was demonstrating his total control over us and we were powerless to resist. He added a new torture now when we were chained to our cross. A fence picket was shoved unceremoniously up our arse and tied in place for the duration. This was to remind us that even when Master was not using our arse, it nevertheless belonged to him at all times. There were times when, in the middle of a freezing night, I pleaded with God to take me away from my slavery. As I shivered uncontrollably and felt the wooden invader shoved inside me, I soon came to realise that my only God was now my Master.

And so we moved between demeaning tasks, all designed to remind us we were now animals. He would also employ us in a small paddock, moving large rocks from one end of the paddock to the other. The work was back breaking, but we would not be allowed to return to our animal stalls until every rock had been moved. And if Master had to come out in the dark, we would be severely whipped. We learnt that lesson quickly. The following day would invariably involve carrying the heavy rocks back to their initial place in the paddock. Such a waste of our once promising lives.

In the entire length of our enslavement, we have been allowed four days respite from our constant toil. Four days in which we were taken out to the muddy pig enclosure. Our neck collars were chained to a central post by a ten foot chain and Master taught us that whenever he approached the pig area, we were to be wallowing in the mud. This was perhaps the greatest demonstration of the total degradation and animalisation forming our new lives as slaves. Two guys who were formerly very successful in our lives as free men, our bodies now the peak of manly perfection. Now spending our only “leisure time” chained naked by our necks in the middle of a pig field. We sat there huddled together naked in the deep mud, our lower bodies caked in the sloppy dirt. And whenever our owner appeared, we were forced to unquestioningly embrace each others’ bodies and roll around in the mud, covering our whole bodies in the foul smelling substance. By the end of the day, we were unearthly creatures and indistinguishable from the pigs, a fact enforced by the way that we were fed alongside of our more fortunate animal colleagues.

Our shaved and naked bodies were constantly engrained with dirt and filth, since we had not washed throughout our time as animals. Our feet and skin were becoming hardened to outdoor use, and our bodies were adapting to the harsh reality of constant nudity in our cold climate. My body had already been toned, but now it took on a hardened steel brought about by constant manual labour without the effects of idle free time, or fatty foods. Brad became a colossus of a man, his young and buff body sculpted to absolute perfection. Ironically, he would have been a god to women and to his rugby club if he had lived in freedom: as it was, only I got to his appreciate the naked wonder of his body. We accepted our water and pigswill as the only food we would ever taste, and we learnt to live in naked servitude, bound in iron chains.

The most frightening aspect of our new life was, however, the adaptation of the mind. Although I was conscious of how my thoughts were changing, I could do nothing to prevent a slide into becoming a beast within me as well as externally. Thoughts of my past, as a free man, became detached. It seemed now to be the world of another person in my memories, as I could not imagine the simple pleasures of clothing, of freedom and of mental stimulation.

Our minds became dulled as we worked, the mindless tedium of such repetitive tasks punctuated only occasionally by a whip or a similar form of punishment from our owner. I began to see myself as an animal as I cowered before my Owner, Him dressed in His human clothing and me naked in chains. I was truly afraid and in awe of my Master now. He controlled my every movement. He dictated my entire day. He had absolute power over me.

It was my Master who had locked my tiny cock away, and this power more than any other seemed to me to emphasise how much he owned me. I was desperate for release, desperate to be allowed to cum. Just thinking about it made my cock stir, before the pain of heavy bondage made it deflate again. It seemed so, so unfair that I was not even allowed the basic pleasure of masturbation. I was constantly in a state of sexual frustration that I knew would never be fulfilled. My only form of sexual release came in being fucked by both my Master and by Brad when he was released from his chastity.

And so my feelings for my Master and for Brad awakened. Despite myself, I almost craved attention from my Master and I felt the stirrings of a love for Brad beyond anything ever possible, as he was my fellow slave and animal. I would never see a woman again and I began to see my role in terms of my service to both Master and Brad. After a couple of weeks of enforced chastity, Brad took pity on me and tried to help me gain some release. Chained in our animal stall, I lay on my back as Brad tried to stimulate my cock in a way that may make some release. I closed my eyes and contemplated how low we had fallen, as we now openly played with our naked bodies. We had no privacy left, and no taboos now that we were animals. It was useless. Brad could gain no release for me, and I wept openly in the knowledge that I would never have an orgasm again.

Brad held me to his bare chest as I wept, and I could smell the aroma of his manly sweat, tied in with the smells of our animalhood. We lay together arm in arm and realised that this was our only chance of tenderness and affection. Tenderly, I kissed his chest and moved up to meet his eyes. Despite the fact that we were totally straight guys, our lives as men were over. We recognised that as we kissed, and our kisses turned to the passionate kisses of lovers. We recognised that as we embraced each other and worshipped each others’ bodies with our hands and our mouths.

So now we really are lovers. Neither of us feels gay. But we know that we need each other and we do love each other passionately. All of the total degradation that I feel every day is bearable, because I know that I can sleep in the arms of Brad at the end of the day. We can never be total lovers in our extreme bondage, with our genitals locked away. But we try as best as we can. We are totally animalised, our animal stall soiled by our excrement and piss as we lie on the cold stone floor, after eating our pigswill. But it is also our bedroom, as ridiculous as that may seem.

It did not take Master long to realise the change in our relationship, and he revelled in informing us that he enjoyed what he had made us become. He had transformed us from successful heterosexual attractive guys with a bright future, into naked gay animal slaves. He reminded us that he had total power to take away our relationship by housing us separately, or working us separately, or gagging us at any stage. He informed us that he had new depths of degradation in store for us and that failure to perform to his expectations would mean we would live in isolation from each other.

He had taken everything from us. Everything. Our lives, our freedom, our bodies, our sexuality. Everything. And now he not only possessed total control over us, but he also had the power to take away the one positive in our life.

And so started a systematic further reduction in our status. As well as animal slaves, we also would learn to become his personal attendants. Body service, toilet service, and houseboy work in front of some of his vile friends. Myself and Brad reduced to naked gayboys.

But that’s a whole new chapter ….

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Despite everything that he had done to us, he still had further power in that he could take away the only positive in our lives, our dependency on each other. He knew this, and he reminded us daily that any pleasure we gained was only possible because he allowed it. What he gave us, he could easily take away. He was our malevolent God.

He told us how easy it would be to keep us housed in separate animal stalls, working in ways that meant we would never have any physical contact with each other. We would be working beasts without the ability to take comfort in each other. Everything was his choice and out of our power as his animals.

And so we started to serve him in new ways. We would kneel before him as he stripped off his clothing, and respond enthusiastically to his orders to lick his body. We would give him a tongue bath, both of us, as he reclined in the barn on an old settee. We would lick his whole body, from his armpits to his balls to the dirt between his toes, washing our Masters firm body as slaveboys.

He would spend an hour or two reclining in the barn, listening to his music. Whilst one of us lay belly down before him and kept his cock warm in our mouth, the other would be positioned under his arse. We learnt to spend an hour or two positioned in his arse crack, our face flattened under him and our nose and mouth lodged in his arse. A naked seat as he reclined in comfort. He would take great delight in leaving his crack unwashed, our duty being to lick and clean Masters crack for him as he reclined in comfort.

Always after such humiliating use, we returned ashamed to our cell. It was hard to accept his brutal use of us. But there was nothing that we could do to prevent it. He owned us – every fibre of our being – and we were as ever powerless to resist.

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