I wanted to be hanging there on perch-parrot.

I sent messages, insinuated, and offered to Denilson for months until he agreed to a date with me. He was a handsome and charming black man who lived in my neighborhood on the outskirts and worked at the police station as a city police officer.

I was very horny when I saw him in uniform, and I wanted to be his bitch.

When I started dating Denilson, I asked him to spank me during the sex, and he liked that rougher and more violent sex. I loved when he pissed in my face and spanked me with the police baton.

We didn't act like a couple; we hung out together and went to bars, but he treated me brutally and humiliatingly in front of everyone, and we both enjoyed that scene in public.

We weren't the sweet little gay couple; he just called me a pussy and a whore, slapped me, and spit in my face when he told me to get and pay for his beer. He dressed in sneakers, jeans, and a T-shirt, but I went out barefoot and shirtless, without underwear or documents, taking only my money to pay for what he would drink and eat.

When he talked to the other men at the bar, I was silent, by his side, head down, waiting anxiously for him to give me orders, slap me or pinch my nipples in front of his friends.

He earned more than I did, but I paid all his bills, rent, light, water, and cigarettes. I dreamed and wanted that, but the best part is that he loved being my Owner! We both used to get hard as he whipped me with his leather belt, brutal and cruel. His dick was so hard he couldn't even pee when he gathered his friends on the corner, and they pissed all over me on all fours on the street.

In a short time, the whole neighborhood, his family, and the gang at the police station were already used to the idea that he was my Owner, and I was super happy with that. 

Still, he needed to make it clear to everyone that I was his fagot, and he was the macho man who fucked and used me.

On a sweltering summer Sunday, he ordered me to go to the police station, and in front of everyone, he ripped off my pants and hung me on a macaw tree to show the other officers how to torture someone hanging like that.

He applied electric shocks to my nipples and ears, stuck the club up my ass, and beat me brutally. I screamed as hard as I could, the pain was unbearable, but I wanted everyone at the police station and in the neighborhood to go there and watch my dream martyrdom.

Denilson was also enjoying having an audience watching him use me however he wanted, torturing his fag, showing with force and violence that this sluty horny body was his. He kept me hanging there for hours without rest. As he took off his belt to whip me, his pants nearly fell off, and his hard cock soaked his underwear in front of everyone.

He knew how to make me ache and horny; he knew my body and mind so well that he made me get hard and come dozens of times. He and all the cops spent the entire Sunday afternoon drinking beer, torturing me, and stuffing my ass.

They only realized that I had been unconscious and almost dead for hours at the end of the afternoon. They just threw me naked in a cell where they all fucked me.

For weeks I was very sore and bleeding from the anus. For weeks Denilson didn't fuck me; when he got home, he earned a blowjob, his dinner, and went to sleep. In the evenings and on the weekends, I would follow him to the bars, meeting his colleagues and friends from the police station, paying for his drink, and getting slapped, pissed, and insulted by everyone in the gang.

At one point, the commissary asked Denilson: when will your fag be hung up at the police station again to amuse us all?

Denilson opened his beautiful smile, looked at me affectionately and maliciously, and replied: Bitch, I think you're ready to be hung again next week, aren't you?

I smiled back and looking at that beautiful face I replied: whenever you want, my Owner!

This drawing is a tribute to my friend Sherwin.