I got him a job and a place to live, but he has to submit to my conditions and perversions.

When I met him, he was already just a young homeless guy who begged in the neighborhood of my shop. He was still handsome but dirty, poorly dressed, and stinky; no one noticed the beauty of his body, only me.

Drugs and drinking had destroyed his reasoning and his self-esteem. The process was as brutal as quick; however, he had not lost the beauty and musculature of youth.

I gradually gained his confidence and started conversations.

The young man already claimed to have given up drugs, but he still drank a lot, had no family or documents, and lived and slept on the street before I offered him the opportunity to work.

I offered him a place to sleep, to live, the old deposit of materials in the back of my store, and an honest job to be the cleaner.

To my family, employees, and customers, my decision to rescue that piece of shit from the street was incredible generosity and humanity. No one has ever questioned or suspected my real and perv intentions.

Gradually, I realized that he accepted all my scoldings and offenses without any complaints. When my other employees were not around, I started slapping and disturbing him in the face. Little by little, I awakened his more submissive side and his perversions.

Being cruel to him, humiliating him, excites me too much.

It was not difficult to get away with some merchandise and leave the accusation in the air that "someone was stealing the store."

The miserable alcoholic living in the back was always the prime suspect.

I explained to him that I would have to lock him in the warehouse on the weekends, due to the thefts, when the store remained closed.

With this plan carefully executed and successful, I could spend most weekends with him without anyone knowing where I was.

I like to see the guy naked, crying, and moaning while I spend hours whipping, beating, hurting, and raping him.

In these long sessions of humiliation, abuse, and torture, he was often excited and happy to be my slut, dirty bitch. His dick got hard many times; he accepted and obeyed all violence without question or complaint. He cried a lot but never asked for mercy or me to relax when I whipped him. When I pinched and twisted his nipples with extreme cruelty, his cock instantly became hard, spilling pre cum..

He felt like shit; he felt guilty and ashamed of what he had become; maybe that's why he thought he deserved to be so violently punished.

He was indeed a despicable, submissive, masochistic faggot.

I feel great pleasure in making him go hungry and cold, and I often force him to drink my urine and eat his shit off the floor. The more crud and brutal I am, the more obedient and submissive he becomes.

Sometimes, I order him to masturbate, and after he comes, I whip his genitals brutally.

I taught him to suck me, lick my feet, and perfectly clean his anus before being raped.

Even when I can not go there, using him on weekends, I take great pleasure in watching television with my family on our comfortable soft sofas and remembering that he is locked, lonely, naked, sleeping on the cold ceramic floor, naked, hungry, and in chains. My couch at home got so much more comfortable! 

On holidays, I would leave him there in that condition for two or three days, with two miserable pots of feed and water within reach. I still forced him to swallow all the shit and urine he did on the floor. He was severely beaten before releasing his chains if the ground was soiled.

When we have barbecues at home or birthday parties, I collect the leftover bones and sweets from the family dishes. I take the remains to the warehouse, throw everything on the floor, floor and piss on the remains before ordering him to eat everything and lick the bottom until it is spotless and shining.

I started to feel a lot more pleasure in eating.

Over the years, I intend to transform him into the most perfect and wretched animal.

He is mine. He accepts, does not complain, does not run away, and has no alternatives.

What else could I do with this kind of rabble?