I have the life I deserve and desire!

 

With some difficulty, I can still remember when I was about 12 years old, I was a happy kid when my teachers at school realized I was a faggot. On an exam in a computer class, I chose to click on screens that had men and not the ones that showed women. The Holly Ministry of Education and Morals had established procedures for identifying degenerates like me in early childhood. When the test denounced my orientation, school officials removed me from the room, took me with some other classmates to the courtyard, ripped off our uniforms, and we were chained and handed over to the police. I learned that the government compensated families and confiscated perverts to sell to companies as pack animals.

The laws of God and the traditional Christian family called for society to be free of perverts like me. Before the law, I was neither a god creation nor a human being; I was a slut beast from hell.

I never heard from my family again, wore clothes, or spoke a single word as they cut my vocal cords. In these years of slavery, I ate only animal feed; I was injected with so many drugs that I always felt dazed, confused, alert, and excited. I feel willing and able to work hard all day, without rest, without tiring. I don't feel hungry or in pain. I feel so horny that throughout the day, my cock is stiff and throbbing, even having to lift heavy chains that pierce my foreskin. The currents that penetrate my nipples pull them down, causing pain and arousal, arousing and pleasuring me simultaneously and all the time. I ejaculate many times a day, and the semen drips and dries between the hairs on my legs. An endless orgasm gives me the disposition and strength for work.

I feel joy, strangely happy and satisfied to be this strong and brute animal. I believe my degenerate queer nature is fully realized that way, being what I am.

Handlers who supervise the work of animals like me used to beat, torture, and rape us with cruel sadism and regularity. I and all the other fag animals are docile and obedient, and we fall in love with our handlers. We feel pleasure and gratitude for the beatings and fucks; we lovingly and carefully suck their dicks before being locked in our cells. They often pee on us after blowjobs, and we are even happier to have the smell of our owners' piss. They never wash us; we stink usually, and our aroma exudes acid and is strong from sweat, tears, semen, and urine. My filth and stink also turn me on; I can't understand my feelings or thoughts. I don't know if it's my queer nature or the drugs injected into my veins daily, but I know I'm delighted being what transformed me! I have the life I deserve and desire!

My little brother, my pet! Seventh part.

After getting married, Daisy and I started to work together as a veterinarian on farms in the region. We cared for breed animals for meat production, practically cattle and pigs. Our work routine made us spend most of the day away from home. When we returned home tired, in the late afternoon, our slave had put the house in order, washed and ironed the clothes, cooked, set the table, served us dinner, and washed the dishes after we ate.

My wife, Daisy, treated the slave the same as I did. Short, to-the-point orders and violent slaps in the face when he got distracted or wasn't paying enough attention. During the day, when he was alone at home, he wore a tight and padlocked muzzle so that he couldn't eat anything.

He could only eat when we were home, the kibble we put in the kibble pot, on all fours on the floor, and without using his hands, like the dog, he dreamed of being.

After we were married, I fucked him very rarely, but he did blow me off quite often. Daisy didn't mind; he usually sucked on me while watching TV.

We lived so far away from the whole family that my relatives rarely visited us. When Daisy got pregnant, my family visited us; my parents and older brother Jack came with his wife and my ten-year-old nephew.

The house was huge; we were able to host everyone at home. Daisy was already in her fifth month of pregnancy, she shouldn't have been working very hard, and Charlie the fag worked for ten, doing all the chores, keeping the house in order, making the beds, making and serving all the meals, taking care of everything and all with promptness and competence.

I could see that the slut queer was happy to have everyone together. He often got turned on by his hard, precum-slick cock. My mother and my wife were already used to that disgusting and perverted being, but even my sister-in-law and my nephew also acted with absolute naturalness.

When women and the boy left the house, my older brother and our father would get together to fuck and spank the faggot of the family, together willingly and enjoying his suffering and submission. We beat, whipped, and burned him mercilessly, with violence, sadism, and lust! He didn't try to disguise his pleasure; he felt as much fun as we did! He often came even when he was whipped! He sucked our dicks many times greedily without resting or spilling a single drop of cum.

My sister-in-law took the photo above; it shows my nephew riding our mare, supported by his father, my brother Jack.

On our backyard floor, you can see sperm spilled by the happy animal and blood we whipped out of him just before women and child arrived.

Right after the photo, the slave would go to the kitchen to finish the dinner serving us.

Charlie had the family, life, and owners he always dreamed of!

He was the happiest fagot he could be.

Those afternoons in the park were delicious!

I could treat my younger brother as he liked in the nearby park. He had already left the house like a little whore wearing only tight little shorts, barefoot and shirtless. In the middle of the park, a vast lawn surrounded by woods was used by many who played sports or for training large dogs.

I had the leash and the dog collar in my pocket, so when we walked through the woods, I put the leash on the bitch and his shorts in my bag. He was already walking on all fours and naked, like a bitch, pulled by my leash.

Nobody there seemed to be bothered or surprised by my fag pet. On the contrary, some came to ask to walk with him through the woods; they knew he gave the best blowjob in the neighborhood. Others, who knew us better, gave kicks, violent and cruel, to my animal's thighs and ribs.

Many days, when I got home from college early, he asked me to take him for a walk if we still had a few hours of sun; he practically begged. My brother loved spending hours in the park being humiliated and mistreated. His cock was hard, dripping cum without him touching it every time he was spanked or kicked by me or any other man.

The gang that went there to smoke pot used their cigarettes to burn the faggot's nipples and tongue, and he ejaculated with lust when they did that. Beer drinkers liked to piss in his mouth; he managed to drink all the piss without spilling anything! Sometimes I believe he let some of the piss spill over, only to be punished and beaten by the drunks.

Those afternoons in the park were delicious! I was assuring him that no one would do anything to hurt him too much, nothing to break a bone or cut his hide.

I knew what he needed, what he sought and wanted. We were very close at that time.