I was chosen to be one of those who serve as the collective bitches.

I had been sold ten years ago; after being sentenced in court for debts, I lost all rights as a free man and became a slave, an animal without dignity or hope. When they stripped me naked, cut my hair, and put me in front of the cameras at the virtual auction, I had no idea who would buy me.

I hope the proceeds saved my family from debt; my wife didn't want our eldest son to be sold. I don't think I'll ever know what happened to them or see them again.

I was sent to my buyer blindfolded and handcuffed; I felt utterly lost without knowing where I was going or my fate.

As soon as I arrived, I was incorporated into the herd, into a large group of enslaved people who worked the fields. It was a large organic farm which heavily used slave labor. Groups of foremen armed with machine guns, whips, and electric batons motivated us to maintain the pace of work all day without rest.

In the early years, I couldn't keep up with the others, was very out of shape, wasn't used to heavy manual work, and received several whips and blows throughout the day.

At the end of the afternoon on my first day, when we returned to the farmhouse, some foremen removed me from the group and hung me by my arms from the high branches of a leafy tree until I could no longer reach the ground with my feet.

The pain of being there with all my weight on the ropes crushing my wrists was already suffering, but soon, two approached with a long leather whip.

I was whipped hundreds of times, calmly and cruelly, until my entire body was covered in purple, red, and black welts. When the whip stopped cutting the air and my body when my screams and the cracks of the whip stopped, I was stunned, but I noticed that most enslaved people had hard cocks. The foremen lowered the ropes so I could stand, and the slaves were organized in a line so that each of them fucked me before being taken to their cages. I can't say that they all fucked me, but I can guarantee that many of them, dozens, raped me and filled me with their cum.

Then, when I thought nothing more could be done to destroy me, the workers came and made me suck all the dicks that wore pants on the farm. When I choked or tried to remove any penis from my mouth, I was beaten so violently that all I could do was suck as competently as possible, most affectionately and gently I could, each of the executioners' cocks.

I must have done an excellent job because, in these ten years that I have been here trying to survive the daily hard work and all the violence and humiliation, at least once a month, once every four weeks, I have been hung from trees, whipped, raped and abused. Like a bitch used by all the males on the farm. Not all slaves go through this monthly rite, some never went through it, but around 30 of us were selected as collective bitches.

When I'm not the slut, nor am I in the ward recovering, every day I watch horny, with my hard dick, another fag slave go through the same sequence of whippings and violence. Then I get in line and rape the fag of the day with strength, desire, and lust.

This daily exercise of violence and humiliation awakens in each of us sadism and the complete lack of solidarity and compassion among slaves. It shows daily that each of us is just a despicable, disgusting bitch to be used by everyone else without mercy.

I can say that I love and get horny seeing slaves moaning and squirming while the whip rips them apart and that I love raping them after the spankings. However, I can say that with experience, what I like most is when I'm the bitch hung, whipped, and raped, I'm the one who sucks with the most affection and lust to thank each foreman who taught me what I really am.