Sausages for the Slave Ch. 11

The Enforcer pulled Dan's pig encased head right back off the edge of the table and down so Dan had an upside-down view, looking straight up into the crotch of Bette's baggy blue overalls. She advised Dan, with a smile, that she would be fitting a ring to his nose. Dan went into a blind panic at the thought of having a hole punched in his nose. He struggled against the straps holding him down on the table and twisted his head from side to side away from Bette's grasp. 'Relax,' she said, steadying his head by gripping it between her thighs. 'I'm going to numb your nose. You won't feel a thing.' And she sprayed some anaesthetic from a small aerosol into his nose. Dan gave up struggling as he felt the cold spray on his nose. This was happening. The simple fact that Dan was firmly tied to the table and couldn't do a thing to stop it happening was another reason to stop struggling. He was glad he had already emptied his bladder. He took a deep breath through his nose and held it.

Having Dan's head upside down between her thighs gave Bette unfettered access to her target: Dan's nose. The upside down plastic piggy snout was pulled below and out of her way. She briskly punched a hole in the septum between Dan's nostrils. She enlarged it with some sort of instrument that was probably intended for doing the same to the ears of Bette's cattle and sheep. She quickly fed an open thick brass ring in through one of Dan's nostrils, through the hole in his septum and out the other nostril. She bent and sealed the ring closed with some sort of clamping implement. All done in twenty seconds. Was it painful? Is the Pope a Catholic and so on and so forth? No need to wonder about it. The anaesthetic only lasted about ten seconds. The gag muffled the loudest of Dan's shrieks.

Bette gave him some time to get over the shock and suddenness of it all, then released him. Probably out of consideration for the tenderness in his nose area, Bette led Dan by his balls back to the slave quarters. He trotted along carefully on his hind trotters, skittering nervously on the shiny tiled floor, anxious to keep up yet equally anxious about slipping and falling. There is something particularly demeaning about having a relative stranger, an uncaring woman, grab your balls in her hand and tug you along by them. It's not the slight ache or occasional twinge, but the very helplessness of your situation. That, and the total presumption on the part of the ball tugger that they can do this. You are a two year old recalcitrant toddler once more, being dragged along the street by your very cross mother for -- something.

Despite the pain in his nose, Dan had a raging hard on by the time Bette had tugged him as far as the entrance to the slave quarters. Once in the doorway, Dan realised that, while he was 'rooting about in the shrubbery,' Bette had been busy installing the promised pig pen. Basically, it was a four foot high picket fence. Eight foot by four foot with a little gate in the middle of one side. The floor was like a large dog mattress, two inch thick foam covered in a strong canvas-like material. Hard wearing and rough to the touch, it had a blue background over printed with a dense pattern of little yellow dog bones. Home sweet home for Piggy Dan. Bette led Dan into the pen and closed the gate behind him. It locked with some sort of locking mechanism. Bette left without a word.

Dan was alone in the pig pen. Time to explore. He tried sitting, but the big dildo was still in place and sitting only rammed it deeper into him. He tried going on all fours and trundling around. There was just enough room to turn around without hitting the sides of the pen. The gate lock was simple. Push a recessed button in the gate post and it would pop open. Only Dan couldn't push the button. His trotter was too big to fit into the recess. In an emergency he supposed he could stretch up and over the side of the pen and tumble out. He wasn't trapped. He felt better about that.

Quickly tiring of the novelty of his new home, Dan decided it best to lie on his side on the mattress. He could feel the side of the ring in his nose resting heavily against his upper lip. He felt sorry for himself, lowered to animal status, a ring in his nose. The ring seemed very big. The base was just below his upper lip. He could put the tip of his tongue into it. He wondered if it would make eating difficult.

He was uncomfortable all over. His nose was still tender, his eyes watering, his vision blurred, his erection faded to nothingness, his ass stuffed beyond full with the dildo, the latex mask and trotters hot and sweaty. He thought about pushing the dildo out as he lay there on his side. But it is hard to control what comes out. Especially after being force fed all that kibble. But it would be truly an animal like thing. When she next came in, there he would be; a pig lying in his own shit. There would be an appalling smell. That would show her. If that's what Mary wanted him to be, let's see how she likes the reality, he thought. But, remembering Mary's fondness for instantly disciplining her pet, Dan decided against the dirty protest option. He didn't fancy a harsh toilet training session with Mary and her cane just then. He'd hold it all in.

About half an hour later the door to the slave quarters slid open again. Mary bounced in with a young man trailing in her wake. She peered over the picket fence of the pig pen and told Dan to stand up and not lie there like a pig in shit. Dan oink, oinked and heaved himself up with difficulty, thinking Mary didn't realise how close she came to actually having a pig in shit to deal with. He felt ridiculous, wobbling on the soft foam underfloor of the pig pen, like he was a child in a playpen or cot. He stood, or half squatted, in the small enclosure, resting his two front trotters against the fence, while the two adults looked in at him from the outside.

Mary commented sarcastically that the ring in Dan's nose gave him the look of a very distinguished pig. She then introduced the new Slave Dan; Dan II. Dan giving the obligatory 'oink, oink', in response, trying to clear his vision to focus on the young man standing behind Mary's shoulder. So this was his replacement. As far as Dan could make out through the small eye slits in his piggy mask, the replacement was as described by Mary the previous evening. He appeared to be all the things Dan was not; handsome, muscular, flat stomached, in his twenties. He was naked and wearing a cock cage.

Dan listened with dismay as Mary told the new Dan that one of his jobs would be to mind her pet pig. 'Piggy' she called him. He was to wash Piggy and toilet him in the mornings, including giving him an enema, she said, then feed him and let him out in the yard for a while. Otherwise he was to keep Piggy in his pen. Dan's dismay deepened as he heard Mary tell the slave to give the pig a few sharp slaps of a cane if it won't behave. That's another person who is going to be bossing me around. And on the basis that there is no worse overseer that one who is downtrodden themselves, Dan just knew that after the new slave got a beating or was put in the T-Bar he would promptly take it out on Dan the pig.

While Mary was advising the slave that if Alexa wanted to fuck Piggy, the slave was to lead Piggy to Alexa, Dan was thinking that this guy has a lot to take in on his orientation tour. First he gets introduces to giant human pet pigs. Not something you'd come across every day. Next there is this talking electronic box on the wall that will give him orders. And finally it turns out that the talking box gets to fuck the giant pig. Who'd a guessed?

But the new Dan was all up for the job. Nothing would shock this slave. He was taking it all on board, determined to show willing. 'Yes, Madam,' he replied with alacrity when Mary asked him if could he do all that.

'They used to be my lines,' thought Dan sadly, flopping back down on all four trotters, tired of holding himself upright against the fence.

'You heard all that Piggy?' Mary said, reaching down to scratch the back of Dan's neck affectionately, like you would a dog. She'd probably have scratched him behind his ears only that his pigs-head mask covered the area. 'You wanted a change and now you've got it. No more slaving for Piggy. Piggy's only job is to be Alexa's fucktoy, plain and simple. That, and amusing me with your piggy antics occasionally. What could be simpler?

Dan, his snout down at the base of the fence, decided he wouldn't dignify her tease with an acknowledgement. He yelped as the sharp sting of the cane flashed across his naked buttocks.

'Answer me, Piggy. Isn't life going to be simple for Piggy?'

'Oink, oink,' responded Dan quickly. He was glad now he had prudently decided to hang on to his dildo. Lesson learned. Mary's conscience wasn't in the least troubled when it came to disciplining animals. Dan decided Mary was applying the tried and true pet training procedure; immediate punishment of incorrect behaviour. Even the dumbest animal quickly learns to associate the punishment with whatever it was doing just then, and ceases to do it. Same with rewards. Pavlov's experiments and all that, Dan had lectured the sixth formers on it. He wondered what rewards he might earn for being a good piggy. Like the mice in the maze experiment, maybe he would get an extra bit of cheese if he did the right thing.

Peering through the slats of the pig pen, Dan saw that Mary was already out the door. No goodbye for the pet pig then, such was her hurry to continue the tour with her new slave and have him ready to assume Dan's duties the next day.

As he settled back in his pig pen, the fading sting of the stripe across his ass reinforced, for Dan, the truth that he was now a pet animal in his wife's eyes. He would have likes to rub his ass to relieve the stinging sensation, but he couldn't. The stiff front trotters couldn't bend around enough. The possibility of rubbing his ass against the side of the pen crossed his mind, but he wasn't prepared to stoop that low. Not yet, anyway. Too animal-like, he thought. Mary would probably install a scratching post if she saw him doing it. Which reminded Dan that he had actually enjoyed her little neck scratching move. There was still an echo of it on his neck, a lingering warm glow. It had been the first bit of affection he had received from his wife since turning into a pig. Ever optimistic, Dan decided it meant that he was still loved, and that -- at some level -- Mary still felt positively about him. That there was hope.

As the days went by, Dan hoped that Mary would appreciate that he was giving the piggy pet thing a good shot. Once he got used to the big brass ring slotted through a hole in his nose, Dan decided he might as well accept that his life has moved significantly in a piggy direction, but hopefully not forever. Dan persuaded himself that, if things went well, and if he kept Mary feeling good about Dan the pig, maybe he could win his way back to being Dan the human again. So he didn't sulk in his pig pen, even if he was stuck in it for long hours each day. He resolved only to 'oink,' and not speak. He performed for his wife on demand, and pleasured Alexa as best he could.

As she had promised, Mary reprogrammed Alexa, her virtual assistant, to reflect Dan's reduced standing in the Hemmings household. Alexa largely ignored Dan the pig. Instructions to do with the housekeeping rota were addressed to the slave. But they always were, Dan reflected. No big reprogramming job then. Alexa just talks to whoever the slave is. Alexa doesn't know from day to day if the slave is a new slave or the same person. Let's not get all carried away. It's not artificial intelligence just yet. A bit to go before Mary can claim a Loebner Prize for intelligent digital assistants, Dan decided sniffily.

The new slave, Dan II, now undertook all the housekeeping jobs Alexa assigned. His morning list of tasks now included 'take the pig out to the back yard.' Dan assumed that Alexa could read different signals or call signs or something from the metal shock collars that he and the slave wore at all times. That way Alexa knew if the slave was in the appropriate location, say the kitchen or in the garden, as called for by the assigned job schedule. From Alexa's perspective, Dan the pig's location was irrelevant, save when she wanted Dan's ass pressed up against her penis plate.

Ding-dongggg... 'Your attention please. The captain has switched on the cabin warning light. We may experience some turbulence. Please take your seat and fasten your seat belt. Make sure your seat back and folding trays are in their full upright position.'

Sophie asked Dan to hold her laptop while she returned her tray to the upright position. Dan glanced at the screen and couldn't help noticing that Sophia was working on a class schedule of some sort.

'You a teacher then?' he asked as he handed back her laptop.

'Yes, indeed,' Sophia replied full of enthusiasm. 'Well spotted. I taught English and Maths way back in New York. Then in Paris, during the Covid lockdown, some of the ex-pat parents I knew asked me to give zoom classes in English for their kids. It really took off. And it kept going even after the lockdown was over.'

As she closed her laptop, Sophia happily chatted on. 'I looked into it, and there is a market for this sort of teaching service in France. The international schools around Paris that teach through English are all over subscribed.'

Sophia was interrupted as the plane lurched a little a few times. Instinctively, her hand gripped Dan's forearm tightly where he was resting it on the armrest.

'Oh, my God, Sorry. I thought I was grabbing the armrest.'

'No need to apologise,' said Dan, chivalrously. In fact, he was loving it, hoping she'd go on gripping his arm, as he launched into his mansplaining, serious science educator at work mode. 'No need to worry about the bit of turbulence. We are probably just passing through the jet stream, moving from American air to European air you could say. We'll be through it very quickly,' said Dan in confident authoritative gruff macho guff mode. Was a fighter pilot myself in the Gulf war, actually, or, I'm a Nobel Prize winning scientist myself actually, I know lots of important things like this.

He restrained himself from launching into the interaction of the polar and equatorial air masses because he wanted to get Sophia back on topic. He was very, very interested. 'But you were saying about teaching through English?'

'Oh, yes. Lots of parents of English speaking kids send them to local French schools. They are the ones that want their kids to get extra tuition in the core subjects in English. All the English native language groups; Australian, English American, Canadians and so on are potential clients. Not only that, the Chinese and Korean communities like their kids to get subjects taught through English too. There really is a big market for this service, I think,' Sophia added, looking directly at Dan and no longer gripping his arm so tightly, but letting her hand just rest there. Dan was glad of the airline magazine was still on his lap.

'Oh my God, I'm really rabbiting on,' burbled Sophia. 'Stop me if I'm boring you.'

'No. Keep going. I'm fascinated. As it happens I'm a teacher too,' pops in Dan, always quick to spot an opportunity when it is staring him in the face.

'No way. What subjects?'

'Science, at junior high and high school level; chemistry, physics, biology.'

'Science through English is in great demand. Offering science subjects along with English and Maths would really fill out the programme. You did say you were going to look for work in Paris'?

'I did. I was thinking or something casual to cover food and board for a while.'

'I could offer you that. Would you be interested in getting involved in the project?

'Sure. Why not.' Dan, feigning indifference, couldn't believe his luck. Compared to scrounging for scraps at McDonalds, this was the dream opportunity. But he didn't want to sound too desperate. 'I'd have to think about it. What would it involve?'

'Well the usual class stuff. Develop lesson plans for the different age groups according to the curriculum of the school system they are in: International or French.'

'I could certainly do that for the science subjects.'

'Since I'm just starting to expand, I could only offer you a room and food in the grand-aunt's house. I've got some course material together and I'm bringing more stuff from the States with me now. There is a still a good bit of setting up to do.'

'But once the actual teaching is up and running and a reasonable cash flow coming in, I should be able to pay you something as well. How's that sound?'

'That sounds okay. I was hoping to get some work straight off, so why not? I'll be in Paris and I'll get to know Paris. That was the plan anyway'

'Well, I'm a bit outside Paris, but people commute in from there. You don't have to actually be living under the Eiffel Tower to get a taste of French life. Are you still in?'

'Please, Dan' pleaded Sophia turning towards Dan, squeezing his arm gently.

Her brown eyes looking earnestly into his blue eyes.

Dan needed no further encouragement. 'Count me in, Sophia. Or should I call you "Boss"?'

'Great! Fantastic! No need to get all formal on me just yet, Dan. But I really must get back to filling out this schedule. I promised to send it out to some potential customers this afternoon. I'll have to do it as soon as we land. Do you mind?'

'Not at all. Go to it, Boss,' Dan smiled, enjoying himself now. 'I can start thinking about the science curriculum.'

Sophia got back to typing busily. Dan, the perennial procrastinator, happy that he was no longer looking at a future of eating leftover McDonald's burgers in the back streets of Paris, put aside thinking about lesson plans. I can do that in my sleep anyway, he mused and let his thoughts drift back to his piggy days, now that they were behind him.

He was a bit shocked and put out when he first heard Alexa the digital assistant refer to him as 'the pig.' But he got used to it. The particular instruction to the slave that brought about an involuntary clenching of Dan's buttocks each morning was: 'Slave, bring me the pig.' Old Dan's only useful role as far as the reprogrammed Alexa was concerned was as her fucktoy. The new slave was never asked to bend over and give Alexa her pleasure moments. Lucky him, thought Dan.

The fateful command issue forth daily; 'Slave, bring me the pig.' On hearing Alexa's demand, Dan II would quickly drop what he was doing, fetch Dan from the pig pen and briskly tug him by the short cord that now permanently hung from the ring in his nose. Dan had to shamble along behind the slave, his back trotters clip-clopping on the hard wooden floor, and his front trotters swinging uselessly in front. If he wasn't quick enough Dan II would give Dan a sharp slap of a leather belt across his exposed piggy ass.

Once in the kitchen, Dan would go down on all four trotters, his ass in the air, and the new slave would back Dan up so as to position his ass hard against Alexa's especially fitted metal wall plate. Alexa would then extrude her metal telescopic penis into Dan's asshole and fuck Dan in the ass until she was satisfied and came.

Outside of dragging Dan to the place of his daily fucking, the new slave ignored him. No chatting at night from his slave bed to Dan in his pig pen. No recounting of the events of the day. Probably not allowed to talk to the pig. Dan decided the new slave was a bit surly. He may be a bit unhappy with his role, Dan speculated, hopefully.

With all the hours spent in his pig pen, and rooting around in the back yard, Dan had plenty of time to reflect on his metamorphosis from totally owned slave to giant pet pig. He had to accept that it was a process that he started himself, and, ultimately, brought on himself. The first stage of recovery, according to all these self-help gurus, is to own the issue. Dan accepted that he didn't have to let himself become his wife's slave in the first instance, nor, at a later stage, become totally dependent on her, living off her, hiding from the real world in effect. He choose to, and she chose to facilitate him. But let's be clear, he reminded himself, the whole prisoner thing was not his doing. And this further step down to the level of a human pet, to not being able to make his own food, dress himself, or even wipe his own arse for pity's sake, this was imposed. He was tricked into it.