Chad didn't know what hell Dirk had consigned him to, but he had never been removed from the pig man since he had first been put on him. The master or his slaves/servants/employees who tended the Pig would simply stretch the portion of the singlet away from whatever body part of the pig they wanted to access. So after Pig crapped himself, and filled Chad's seat up, they would eventually stretch the leg hole opening and blast the excrement out with a hose. The excrement would join the mud and filth which made up the wallow hole of the Pig's pen. They would sometimes allow several days of waste to swell in pig's nether regions- Chad assumed they didn't empty him on weekends. Occasionally. Pig would develop a rash on his butt, crotch or other part of his body. Then an ointment, salve or cream would be applied. In the case of a fungal infection, a spray. The handler/master or whoever would reach inside the singlet to apply the balm agent. Chad would try to connect with them, but either they couldn't hear him, or were trained to block their response. It was just Chad and the Pig. The Pig's mind was a nightmare. Whatever he had been before he was Pig, Chad only managed glimpses. A guy with glasses in a suit adjusting his tie in a bathroom mirror. He was holding a classified ad. Then the rest was heavy flashing lights, painful injections, insidious music and voices. They hammered at his fragile mind. He wasn't human. He was a pig. He was a born slave. His true nature was pig slave. It worshipped real men. It was not even worthy of being a slave boy. The derogatory words echoed forever in the pig's brain long before it was dressed in Chad. It's job was to eat. and be fucked by real men. There was nothing too degrading for the Pig. Chad cried at first. Then he accepted that was pig. It began to seep in that he was less than pig. He was pig's soiled singlet. Pig really didn't think about Chad except when he tried to scratch an itch or adjust his caged cock. Then he thought of Chad as a thing. For five years, pig grew bigger, and Chad grew to accept his fate. He was pig's singlet, and that's all he'd ever be. He was unworthy.
The master kept pig and Chad mostly in the dark. He would often wear night-vision goggles and cameras to monitor Pig and Chad in the dark. It was on one of those occasions when one of the unseen handlers reached under Chad to twist one of pig's tits that the master learned of Chad's defeat. He happily relayed the news of Chad's abject collapse to Dirk. Now was the time for phase three of Operation Singlet. Dirk had almost given up hope after 5 years, but the master knew all jocks could be broken, given time and training.
So Dirk came out to fulfill the final portion of Chad's training. The Master smiled as he apprised Dirk on the ride from the airport. Dirk was too excited about what he was going to do to - er with- Chad to notice that Master was studying Dirk like a newly acquired piece of livestock. Dirk would have to lose some weight, and build more muscle. In the past 10 years since his wrestling hay days, he had let himself go. When Dirk got into the black limo with tinted windows, he was impressed. He was pissed at the airline for losing his bag, though in the airline's defense, one of the Master's servants had intercepted the bag at baggage claim, and delivered it to a nearby dumpster. Dirk wouldn't be needing clothing - at least no more clothing than the Master chooses to provide him. But he didn't know that. He was here to train Chad, and to learn how to properly train Chad to be his bitch boy, his Beta pup. Of course, he missed the fact that to be an alpha pup, he would have to be trained too. The master hadn't quite decided whether Dirk would be a beta too or not. Training would tell.
"I cannot believe the airline lost all my clothing," whined Dirk.
"No worries, I have plenty of gear you can wear. You won't be needing any street clothes while at the ranch, and well, your Chad will need constant attention for the first few weeks after his humanity is restored, if you're serious about him being a total puppy bitch?"
"Oh, I'm serious. Sorry, I appreciate everything you're doing, Mr. Masters."
"I prefer if you just call me Master. It helps reinforce my role with my slaves, you understand, don't you?"
"Sure, master," Dirk said with a smirk and a nod at the four harem boys waiting at attention around the room.
"Now let's get you geared up, Dirk. Take off your clothes, Dirk. Simon, Theodore, Alvin, get over here, and measure our guest. I think leather straps are the order of the day. Then once, you are properly attired, Dirk, we can reintroduce you to Chad."
Alvin had a big red and yellow A tattooed on his naked torso, and wore only a red baseball cap and matching red cock cage. Simon wore blue glasses, and blue cock cage. Theodore was a tad overweight - hell, he was more than a tad- he was fat - not piggy fat, but a few years away from that. His green cock cage was barely visible under his beer belly. They were all in their late teens or early twenties, Dirk thought. The tape measures were all over him, in places where a tailor never measured. Dirk looked a bit unnerved.
Master reassured, "It's custom fit. You don't want it binding while you're wielding a whip. Leather is less forgiving than Spandex, so it needs to be tailored just right."
The master strolled over to the doorway, and spoke the slave standing there. When Alvin was sure that the master was out of earshot. He turned his head away from the master and hissed in Dirk's ear, "Get out, while you still can!"
When the three slaves had dashed off to prepare Dirk's new duds, the master offered Dirk a drink. Dirk reached for his clothing, but discovered it was gone. He commented as such.
"Oh, one of the slaves will clean it and put it in your room, but you won't be needing them until you leave anyway. Sit back on the sofa. Slaves, more grapes, and goodies for our guest!" He clapped his hands. Hot men naked except for cock cages, and scarves entered with trays of food, and jugs of wine. Dirk took the offered glass. He looked at it for a moment suspiciously thinking about Alvin's warning. He sniffed it, and took a drink. It contained no hallucinogens or narcotics, but it was laced with certain hormonal agents to make Dirk hornier. The master smiled. Dirk would be hornier and eagerer to begin training Chad, and not realize that he was being trained with Chad at the same time.
So under the cover of darkness, wearing night vision goggles, a slightly tipsy, super horny Dirk, and a sober Master silently entered the pig pen. The sequence was activated, the singlet began to get puffy, like it was quilted or something. Chad didn't notice at first. He felt himself shifting under the mass of the pig. He suddenly realized he was no longer wrapped around the pig. He was completely under him. He gasped, and sobbed. He was human again. He grabbed onto the railing of the pen to try to pull himself free from beneath the pig. There was an awful plopping noise, as Pig's dick came dislodged from Chad's rosebud. He sniffled a bit, and pulled himself up. Then he felt leather and metal around his neck, it tightened. There were unseen hands. He had been collared. He started to speak.
ZAP!
"Pigs don't speak. Neither do dogs, Singlet," snapped Master Dirk's voice out of the darkness.
The shock collar had sent Chad writhing in the mud. Then he felt cold steel on his cock, and heard the clicking of a lock. He was locked in a chastity device like the pig. The echoes from pig's mind resounded in Chad's now human brain: "Slaves don't speak unless ordered to speak. A good slave is a silent slave. Animals don't talk. It is an animal."
After all these years, Dirk remembered Chad, and had come for him. Chad had a horrible image of him as pig wallowing next to Pig. No, Dirk wouldn't do that? His hand slid in the darkness up to his collar.
Master pointed silently, as Dirk and the Master could see with their night vision goggles. Chad was feeling the dog tag hanging from his collar. It was deeply engraved. Chad could feel the name.