Outback

I don't know how long I have been here.  Maybe a month, maybe longer.  My wits have been dulled and I feel abused, hurt, demasculated.  I am learning to obey.  The simple reality is that obeying him is painless and gives me time to plan some form of escape.  I can't envisage what that may look like yet.  Although he doesn't seem particularly smart, he is strong and meticulous and he enjoys his total power over me.  I am sure he wouldn't go to so much trouble just to let me go.

My wits are dulled I think by my lonely existence of silent bondage. He doesn't give me any relief from my situation ever, he doesn't interact with me as a person and he revels in my subjugation. I am always naked, always in this harsh collar and with my cock imprisoned. My filthy feet cling relentlessly to the perch as I squat naked in silent misery for no reason. My body is strong but the changes make me timid, and I am shocked that his changes even so far mean - even if I do ever escape - I can't ever be a normal man again, let alone a footballer. He tells me with glee that there are many further changes to come.

It was early on when he took me outside to piss and shit, squatting over a hole with my hands chained behind me. I had taken advantage and ran. Ran as fast as I could. Barefoot, my cock cage crashing against my thighs as I ran away. I didn't look around, but I realised he wasn't following me after some distance and crashed to the ground in exhaustion. As the scorching unrelenting sun beat down on my naked body I looked around. Not a shelter, not a place of refuge as far as the eye could see. I sobbed in anger and frustration at the total futility of trying to escape. I couldn't last long out here.

He pulled up on his motorbike and laughed. Reminding me calmly that escape was futile, he attached a chain to the back of his bike, and the other end to my neck collar. With a whistle, he mounted his bike without a backwards glance. Taking a gulp from his water bottle and wiping his brow he started the engine. We lurched forward back towards his house. My abused body staggering through the outback naked behind his back. I was learning my place as I stumbled back to slavery. My feet in agony on the scorching ground.

Wordlessly he locked me back on my perch, and warned me I needed to drink. With horror, I opened my mouth wide and submitted again. I gulped down his acrid warm salty piss as he stood before me. Gagging involuntarily I finished his load silently and sobbed inwardly at my position as he walked away. I drank his piss regularly now. I had no choice.

I hated the piss more than anything. It was a vile act of total submission but I had already learnt that my role was to obey. If I couldn't obey then I would suffer through a range of discomforts. Starvation, lack of drink, the lashes of his whip or other inhumane acts. I was so vulnerable and exposed and weakened. But drinking the warm piss of your tormentor cannot ever disguise the lowliness of your humility.

As I consider my life now, my brain tells me to accept that this is my future. To focus on simple service and to try to find the positives in my health and my youth. But the mere fact I am a young, fit healthy guy with a whole life ahead of me makes me scream with despair. My freedom and humanity have been removed for his amusement and gain. I have a lot of time to contemplate my plight. Much of my day is spent alone squatting, feet clenched around the perch in my cage. A pointless waste of my life, an obscene pathetic human parrot in a cage. I have nothing at all to occupy my mind. He ignores me most of the time as I fight hard to resist shouting, screaming, swearing at him.

My cock may as well not exist. It hangs ignored,imprisoned and useless. No attempt to even touch it has any effect and I have not even been able to become hard since my capture. I groan in the night as I lie on the floor, feeling it twitch and strain against its prison as I dream of a free life. A life where I can have a cock. A life where I am a man, let alone a famous footballer.

I tried to reason with him, and then lost my temper one evening when the pointlessness of my perching alone spilled over. I threatened him. I shouted and swore. I banged the bars of my cage in fury and demanded my life back.

He ignored me completely until I had stopped, the tears of anger rolling down my face. Wordlessly he had dragged me outside and chained my collar to a hook hanging from his verandah. Wordlessly and methodically he caned me. Repeatedly. Silently. Viciously. I squirmed and jumped as he punished my whole body. Back, front, legs, armpits, balls, arse cheeks. I screamed in pain and still bear some of the welts. But his end act of making me crouch in a ball and take a hard caning down my arse crack was unbearable and I begged him to stop.

He hung up his cane and quietly opened the door to my cage. Waddling like a duck I limped back in wracked sobs onto my perch and hung my head in disbelief. Lesson learned.

The next day, he pulled up a chair before me as my stinging toes curled around the perch.

"You will never find freedom again. Accept it. Your freedom is to serve me humbly and silently. I never ever want to hear you speak. Speaking is for humans and you are an animal now."

He paused to allow his words to sink in.

"You are my pet now. You will learn to spend your life perched like this. On display. Ignored. That's just how it has to be and how it will be. When I know that you understand that new place in life, we will make some further changes. I own every atom in your body slave. You can't change that ever now. In time, you will earn some new ways to serve me so that you aren't always alone on display like this as my parrot. There's plenty of ways a strong boy like you could work hard on this farm. I do want you to be of use as well as being a pretty piece of meat for me to look at."

He leant forward and unlocked the door to the cage. "You will always spend lots of time like this. I like seeing you on display like this," he murmured and his eyes looked down my naked body, down to the useless cramped genitals hanging beneath me. "It suits you."

Silently he reached out and I winced as he cupped my exposed balls. Gently he stroked them and looked into my eyes. I could smell the beer on his breath as he leaned forward further. Keeping a strong look into my eyes, I cast my glaze downwards in submission. The horror of being abused like this flashing before my eyes. With a smirk, his hand moved beyond my balls.

"I need to get you dressed up soon too. My mate is coming round to meet you. And he loves pretty girls like you," he whispered. I held my breath and shuddered as I felt his fingers run gently down the crack of my arse and over my abused hole. The discomfort of my caning meant it was swollen and painful to the touch.

"I have some nice pink knickers for you to wear when he comes around. You'll wear them and pose those muscles for us. And then we will teach you how to use a cock boy," he whispered gently. I stared up in horror at the outline of his now hard cock in his briefs as he locked me back into the misery of my silent squatting on the perch. "Maybe I will allow you to keep that little dick of yours if you are a good boy," he murmured. "As long as you understand it ain't ever coming out of its little cage."

Surely his friend wouldn't go along with this savage degradation of me? Maybe this would prove to be my opportunity to escape.

 I had no idea that his friend - the vet - would bring me only further degradation, humiliation and a passage further into abject slavery. If I had any last thoughts that I could return to becoming a man, he would teach me once and for all my new position as a non-male at the bottom of the hierarchy of men.