He never had anything, not even a name; every owner he had chose a new way to call him. He had been called "bull", "horse", "pig", "animal", "nitwit" or "shit". He knew that each year his name was more offensive and humiliating, he was getting older and losing his usefulness or value.
He no longer knew how often he was sold or rented in the animal market.
Each year, with each sale, his price falls a little more.
Once again, the animal was for sale.
He was born a slave, he was never human been, he worked all his life as a beast of burden, he would die one day as an animal dies. Never wore any clothes, animals live naked, animals work naked. His skin suffered under the sun light, the cold, the lash, his skin was thick, rough and hard. His muscles grew by pulling wagons, carrying heavy loads, and working hard. So that he would not speak or moan; his tongue was ripped off when he was a kid. He was raped thousands of times by other animals like him, colleagues in the miserable and brute life, or by masters and headsmen, as a form of domination, humiliation, or simply for fun. Many times his owners talked about castrating him, but they preferred to have his cock and balls for fun or torture.
He was born well-endowed, and this fact sometimes valued him at the time of sale. Sometimes, he was rented for heavy or sexual work. He knew that his life depended on how much he could be used and how hard he could work. Animals like him did not get old; when they got old, they died because they could not bear the beastly work anymore, were killed by the whip, or were sacrificed for not being worth more than the food they consumed.
Estupenda narración, los animales son para eso, para servirle a sus Amos.
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