I have never felt so naked and exposed as I did at that moment.

When we picketed to close the street near the factory entrance, we neither imagined nor expected such a brutal reaction from the police riot squad. Huge armored cars, with tear gas and stun bombs, rubber bullets, and batons, were fired by police officers heavily equipped with helmets and protective shields; we only had some posters and small stones; we were unarmed!

Groups of police officers ran after us as we fled, scared and desperate.

When they reached me, I surrendered my hands without offering any resistance. They brutally handcuffed me and took me to a space between the huge trucks and the factory walls.

Without asking any questions or justification, they took off all my clothes.

Completely naked and handcuffed in the middle of the street, in brutal contrast to the natural protective armor worn by the police officers, I realized the extent of the fragility to which I was exposed! He was brutally naked and surrendered to the violence and sexualizing gaze of the troops. I immediately noticed their lust, desire, and envy for my young, muscular, black body.

At that moment, in panic, I understood that the rubber batons weren't the most challenging thing they would use to punish me.

A drawing from 2015 that I had never posted.

 

It is tense and scared.

Standing still and observing, he waits for his Owner to finish the negotiation. He can't imagine what will happen; that's why he's so tense. He had been working in the fields for months, pulling carts and plows all day. He did the work diligently and obediently, and the supervisors constantly whipped him to keep up the pace. But, they complained that he is getting old and can no longer work at the same pace.

He always strives to please, he sucks dicks smoothly and skillfully, and he knows how to squeeze his anus to give more pleasure to the men who fuck him, but over time and constant rape, his ass has been torn apart and doesn't have the same appeal for young people.

He fears his life as a pack animal is coming to an end.

If he's lucky, he might end up on another farm working for a few more years; if it goes bad, he might be slaughtered and fed to dogs that very day.

He is tense and scared.

Three years of slavery: a masochistic sow. Part five.

 I accepted and faced the entire process of physical transformation without questioning or complaining. For many months I took the injections; I felt my body changing, my breasts growing, and my dick and balls becoming huge, heavy and sensitive.

The injections in my sac and dick hurt a lot, but I felt a massive urge; I felt permanently excited and highly horny, almost having non-stop orgasms, but I no longer had erections.

My nipples became huge, like cows' udders; they became soft and sensitive. When my owner pinched or burned them, I felt very horny and in pain at the same time.

When they broke my nose and sewed the nostril higher up, it hurt immensely, but my breathing changed. My nostrils were wide open, like a pig's. I was sad; I loved my nose; I thought it was beautiful, but if my owner wanted something different, I accepted it.

They forced my jaw back so much that it was dislocated several times; at times, I could barely chew the food. They stuck big, thick dildos down my throat to widen it, hurting it and changing the shape of my windpipe and my appearance. My cheeks became more oversized and saggy, my neck was soft, and the skin was looser.

I didn't have a mirror to look at what was happening to my body and face; I spent many months without having a single opportunity to see myself reflected anywhere. When cleaning my owner's room, I saw myself for the first time in a mirror; I no longer recognized myself. They turned me into something else;

I don't think anyone in my family would be able to recognize me again. I became a bit grotesque and animalistic; I gained muscle mass, and I became much bigger, fatter, and more robust, and at the same time, with big breasts and a big ass.

During the process, my Owner met a handsome, much younger boy and began a daddy-and-boy relationship. The boy soon began to live in my Master's house, and I was introduced to the boy as his slave and, in a way, shared and given to him for his enjoyment.

I gave the boy countless blowjobs, washed his clothes, and cooked and served meals to the loving couple. I obeyed him the same way I followed my Owner and was treated with the same contempt and sadism.

One day, the boy decided to learn to handle a whip with more skill. He tied my wrists to a rope that hung from the house's ceiling and spent a whole day whipping me with violence and cruelty just to train how to make the whip snap and hurt my skin the way he wanted.

For him, it was just training and fun; for me, pain and excitement. Even with the whip hurting my body, I felt horny; when my huge nipples were whipped, I almost came; when he whipped my thick cock, I ejaculated a liter of cum! Several times, I howled with pain and excitement, not knowing whether to beg for mercy or more violent lashes!

My body was covered in wounds and scars, blood, sweat, tears, and sperm. There were thousands and thousands of painful and delicious lashes, almost all dag. The young boy seemed tireless, and I felt insatiable; I loved every good lash.

My Owner ordered me never to say anything to him. I never spoke or addressed him, but he took pleasure in cursing me, shouting with contempt - you like that, don't you, pig? You want me whipping these ridiculous big tits, don't you, slut sow? Those huge asses look pretty red like cherries, don't they?

He stopped to have lunch, to go to the bathroom, to talk on the phone, but he started whipping again, testing how and where to whip, how hard, how to hold the handle of the whip, and how to position his arm.

Early in the evening, my Owner arrived home, and they released my arms so I could tidy up the kitchen, repair and serve dinner for the couple.

During dinner, they talked sweetly, and my Owner asked his boy: what did you do all day today? And he replied: nothing significant. I was a little bored, playing with the sow and talking to my friends on the cell phone.

My Owner didn't seem to notice or care that I was covered in bleeding wounds and marks from the lashes.

Listening to this conversation removing the dirty dishes from the table, sperm ran hot and abundant down my legs.

A follower asked me to draw his wildest fantasy.

A follower asked me to draw his wildest fantasy.

He says that when he was young, his brother and his cousins soon realized that he was a faggot and began to fuck him and demand blowjobs using him as the family bitch.

He soon realized that he liked humiliation and being treated like a dog. He said that he was the one who took the family dog's collar and put it around his neck for the first time.

The cousins loved the suggestion and got used to putting a leash on him and taking him to parties and bars like the group's dog. His cousins were from the most problematic areas, the city's most dangerous neighborhoods and outskirts. They would pass by his house with the truck; he would go up there happy and excited about the danger and the mess that would ensue. The cousins would take off his clothes, put on the collar and leash, and make him go down like that, with them in the roughest, ill-famed, and dirtiest bars where they would drink beer and cheap drinks until they felt sick.

The kid loved being beaten, pissed on, spat on and fucked brutally. His cock was throbbing, spilling cum, hard all the time, and he didn't get tired of sucking the thickest, stinkiest, and dirtiest cocks in front of everyone present in the bar. He loved that he was the slut bitch naked and shared among the males in the bar.

He said that the experience became more radical when, one night, they took him to an alley in the neighborhood where they lived, just beside his house, where other guys were waiting for them with their dogs. When he realized what was going to happen, he tried to escape, begging them not to let the dogs fuck him. But his older brother held him by the collar with one hand, and with the other, he grabbed his stiff cock and showed him ─ Bitch, your cock is hard with lust! That's precisely what you want! There's no point in denying it!

He had to endure being fucked by several big dogs of different breeds from his neighborhood, like the dirtiest bitch in heat.

The dog's claws and teeth painfully scratched his thighs and ass, but he felt so horny that he came all the time!

The audience watched, laughing and amazed at how much he was enjoying all that degradation and violence.

He went into a trance due to the pain of the dogs' claws, to feeling the dogs' dicks deep inside him, to the dicks he felt in his mouth that he didn't even notice that part of the group burned his back with lit cigarettes, kicked and hit him with cruelty and contempt for his whole body.

The cruelest cousin went to call his uncles at his house so that all the men in the family, even his father and grandfather, could watch the complete degradation of the bitch boy.

At the night's end, his brother spoke in his ear when they put him in the back of the truck.

─ Bitch, our father told you never to come over to the house again. Uncle John called a friend of his who has a farm near Springfield, who said he needed a slutty bitch like you, as he was with a group of manual workers cutting down a forest. That these construction workers will enjoy having a slut fag to fuck and spank at the end of their hard work days. I don't think we'll see each other again, right?

They just tied his wrists and ankles and put the fag in the back of the truck for the trip.

My follower said that he made most of the trip this way, naked, tied up, and on a leash, but with his best hard-on.

Three years of slavery: physical transformations. Part four.

Since I surrendered myself as a slave to my Owner, we agreed that I would no longer have any decision about myself and that I accepted being his without limits or expectations.

He doesn't know me, nor is he interested in getting to know me; I'm not his friend; I'm not even a person; I'm just his slut fag. So when I arrived at the house and undressed for the last time, he examined me with some disappointment.

I was never pretty, firm, or sporty; I was just a dull body over thirty years old.

When he fucked me a few times, I remember him complaining about the opening of my ass. He started inserting plugs and dildos bigger and broader. He stuck big dildos in my anus and ordered me to keep them inside me all day. He doesn't care if it hurts or bothers me a lot; I have to bear it in silence. He knows my ass better than I do. Sometimes, he starts to insert an extra large dildo, and I despair, afraid that I will be split in half or that the monster will destroy me from the inside. The pain is terrible, and I sweat a lot as he tries to push it deeper until it no longer comes out. Sometimes I can't breathe, sometimes my ass bleeds, but he always manages to get what he wants into me.

I remain still, silent, and bear it without complaining. I am his sex toy.

What scares me sometimes is him talking to someone about me as if I weren't there, listening to the conversation. He asks his friends, who are veterinarians or doctors, what he should inject into me, the doses, and the places for the injections, and he injects without me knowing what he intends or the effect it will have. One day, he told someone that he wanted to break my nose so that it would look like a pig's; the guy took my nose and showed him where they could break the cartilage and how to force the nose up. The guy offered to do a surgical stitch so that my broken nose would be in the position he wanted.

Once, when he was shoving a dildo down my throat, I couldn't breathe as the toy went down my throat. I despaired, thinking I was going to die right there; I passed out while he calmly looked at me in agony as if he didn't care. When I woke up, I felt blood in my throat, which was very sore and raw. In the following days, he inserted even thicker dildos, deeper, widening my throat mercilessly. I fainted several times, but he didn't give up on making me a professional cock swallower.

As he loved to torture nipples, he placed suckers on my tits, sucking them hard so that they became increasingly pointier and bigger. As he wanted to torture my dick and balls, he started putting suckers that made my genitals huge.

He would go to work and leave me there, on the laundry room floor, with the suckers, with the hooks pulling my nose and cheeks in complete suffering, all day.

When he arrived at night, he would let me go so I could serve him dinner, and then, even before I ate anything, he would inject several syringes into my dick and my nipples. He would give some injections in my butt and arms. He never bothered to tell me what he did or what would happen, and I just accepted it because I'm his slut, right?

In a short time, my body was already very different from what it was before, and my libido was also other.

Three years of slavery: getting used to the pain. Part three.

My Owner is sadistic; he takes pleasure in causing pain and suffering. My entire body is completely his; my skin is his space for fun and cruelty.

Part of my suffering he inflicts not as punishment but for simple pleasure. When he is settled in his armchair and calls me, I should stop whatever I am doing and kneel next to him so that he can easily reach me and have fun with me.

He usually hugs me with his left arm, almost affectionately, and starts crushing my nipples. He does it as a habit, without looking at me, without paying attention to what he's doing, like someone knitting or playing with a keychain, except he plays with my nipples. He spends hours pinching, twisting, and crushing calmly and with great force. The pain is almost unbearable. I writhe, moan, and cry from so much pain, but I believe he has no idea how much my breasts hurt as he continues crushing them without mercy or haste, just because he likes to feel them between his strong fingers.

I try to avoid moaning; I try not to move; I try not to disturb his pleasure, even though he hurts me so immensely.

When he watches TV or talks to a friend, he spends hours playing with my tits.

Sometimes, he smokes cigars; he likes big, thick Cuban cigars, which he smokes with significant, long drags. At first, I liked the smell; with time, I just smelled it and started to sweat with fear, as it has a habit of putting cigars on me. From the first time he placed the lit cigar against my back, he lovingly covered my mouth with his hand, stopping me from screaming in pain. He got into the habit of hugging me affectionately, covering my mouth as he slowly touched the lit cigar to my body until he put it out.

In this tender gesture, he sees me and carefully chooses where to place the cigar flame. Sometimes, he decides to burn over burns from other cigars, reinforcing the wounds and their scars. Sometimes, he decides on nipples that are already injured and sore from so much squeezing that even after being burned, he continues to pinch and crush mercilessly.

My Owner sometimes receives friends who, like him, are sadists and like to cause pain. They want to talk animatedly about ways to cause pain and torture, and sometimes, they talk using my body to play with.

One of them uses me as if I were his, violently and mercilessly. My Owner doesn't seem to care; he talks to him distractedly, as if he were talking about a football match. They spoke as if I wasn't there, on all fours, naked and receiving racket blows so hard that my butt was covered in wounds and blood.

The guest raised his arm high and delivered violent blows that painfully destroyed my butt. Then he grabbed my balls as if they were tennis balls and hit them with his racket as if I wasn't going to faint from so much pain without any mercy.

With time and daily pain, I ended up getting used to the suffering and learning to endure it in silence, firm, resigned, even crying and moaning softly so as not to disturb my Owner's fun.

To see the previous part click: https://bdsmmaledrawings.blogspot.com/2023/11/three-years-of-slavery-part-two.html

Three years of slavery: humiliation. Part two.

Being a submissive slave has a series of challenges. I know that I am nothing more than a shitty faggot to my Owner, that he despises me. He takes pleasure in humiliating and treating me poorly, and I realize that the humiliation helps me understand what a shit I am.

I feel so despicable and miserable how he treats me; I feel like I deserve to be treated this way, that a stupid submissive faggot is a piece of shit like he says and makes me think.

When I entered the house, he showed me that I should sleep under a table, in a corner of the laundry area, directly on the cold ceramic floor. He didn't even give me an old cloth to cover or lay on.

At first, I thought sleeping there like this, on the hard, cold floor, would be a big challenge, but I got used to it. When my owner enters the kitchen in the middle of the night, he checks if I'm there, just as he told me.

One cold winter night, he noticed that I was shaking from the cold and asked if I was freezing. I answered yes, imagining he would give me a cloth to cover me and keep me warm. He just pissed profusely all over me, from head to toe. I've never felt your piss ever so warm and comforting.

Beside me are the water and food bowls. He forbade me to drink or eat anything that wasn't in the bowls. I had to learn to drink and eat without using my hands, on all fours, directly from the pots, like a dog. He controls the amount of food and water I consume and frequently pisses in the bowls. I only have to eat as much as he puts in the bowl, everything he puts in. Sometimes, he makes me suffer from hunger, giving me just one measly meal a day. I feel my stomach growling with hunger all day. Sometimes he makes me suffer from thirst and only lets me drink his piss directly from the source.

Another way to humiliate me is to lend me to your friends. I don't know if he rents it to me or lends it for free. I know that sometimes, one of his friends blindfolds me and, ties my wrists behind my back, puts me in the trunk of the car, and takes me somewhere. There, blindfolded and gagged, I can't tell how many guys raped me; I lose track of time; I believe I stayed there for many hours without rest, and I can't count how many times I'm fucked. They don't see my face; to them, I'm just an open ass to be fucked.

I feel like an object, a hole without value or name.

I love being reduced to shit in every way.

To see the previous part click: https://bdsmmaledrawings.blogspot.com/2023/11/three-years-of-slavery.html

Three years of slavery: the tasks. Part One.

It's been three years since I've been outside the house. Three years ago, I agreed to be my Master's slave.

From the beginning, he made it clear that it would not be an emotional relationship, that he would have neither affection, nor respect, nor even consideration for me, that I would just be his slave.

I agreed and accepted.

He said that I would never wear any clothes again, that from that moment on I would live naked all the time, winter or summer. In the beginning, I still suffered a little, whether due to the shame or the cold. Today, I am used to nudity, feel comfortable, and no longer suffer from the cold.

I only wear the collars and handcuffs he put on me so he could tie me up either at home or put leashes on my collar. I thought it was fair and necessary.

He said that only he should feel orgasms in the house, that I should feel pleasure just serving him. He put a cage on my dick and didn't take it off for months.

I accepted, my dick is his, not mine.

He said I should do all the chores around the house.

I agreed and obeyed.

Today, from when I wake up until he puts me in the cell, I work incessantly washing his clothes, preparing all his meals, tidying the kitchen and the entire house, taking care of the garden, and cleaning his car.

When he gets home, I welcome him on my knees; he arrives tired and usually takes his first piss in my mouth. I manage to swallow everything so competently that not a drop is spilled on the carpet in the house.

Today, I realize that I have never been so full and happy in my life.

As a fagot, masochist, and submissive, this is my role and place.

One day, he realized that in his deep soul, he envied these miserable and handsome servants tied on the totems.

Court princesses could use servants as they saw fit. It was considered suitable for their training, education, and future to know everything about sexuality and sex. That's why the noblewomen organized a section of the palace's garden so they could stroll around pleasantly, talking about issues of sexuality. This themed garden was surrounded by tall hedges, which delimited flowerbeds with sculptures, pavilions, and totems with themes relating to sexuality. Court women could take young men to serve them sexually, selected and trained to give them pleasure.

Some nobles chose some of the most gifted and handsome young men and gave them as gifts to the Garden of Delights.

Phallic totems of varying sizes, made of solid stone, were used to tie these naked boys so that they could be handled, tortured, or dissected for the pleasure or education of the court girls.

Some of the young men tied up had their dicks hard, excited by fear and nudity. Some were masturbated by the girls many times until they used up the last drop of sperm. Others were chosen to serve as sex toys in their rooms.

Some of the young men were so shocked to see others like him being whipped to death just for the amusement of the maidens that they were petrified, catatonic, and unable to plead for mercy or attempt to escape the brutal and fatal fate.

The beautiful princess in the drawing is interested in and enjoys the sexual use of whips and how men get horny when they are tortured. She placed bells on the nipples of one of her servants and blinded him to serve as her toy pony in the garden. So, riding on her blind pony, she spent entire days destroying some boys tied to totems.

So many times, she whipped her slut pony almost to death cause she was intrigued that he got a hard-on when he was whipped or when he saw or heard other men being brutally whipped. That's why she decided to make him her pet blind pony.

The boy tied to the totem on the left in the drawing is not a servant. He is from a wealthy merchant family who was sent to court to see if any princesses would marry him. He frequented the garden and got very horny seeing young men like him being whipped. He discovered that deep down in his being, he was jealous of their fate. He asked his father to give it as a gift for the garden. The father soon realized the advantages this could bring him. He requested an audience with the Duchess, and before her and the court, he undressed his son, collared the pervert, and gave him as his gift to the Garden of Delights.

The princesses placed him on the last of the totems so that he could watch with a hard-on the others being whipped to death.

Now he's happy his turn has come!

Mr. Kristofer fulfilled his oldest dream.

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

The day of the auction.

The masochistic and submissive fagot HB wants, with all his strength, to be destroyed by a genuinely sadistic Owner. For years, he has been looking for someone to accept a pervert fag like him. He knows he's not worth much; his flabby body won't arouse desire or affection from normal gay dominators; he knows he's not worth anything anyway.

That's why he was looking online for people who traded slut slaves like him, for sadists who would pay for it. A group of young dominators in the Czech Republic, viral and well-known among BDSM gays, said they could sell him, as long as he was displayed in an online auction they run, for their followers and regular customers.

They would keep the sale price and hand it to the best bidder. They announced on Twitter that they would sell an old fag into actual slavery, with no return, and could be tortured without limits or slaughtered by the buyer.

HB arrived in Prague two days before the sale, and for two days, he was used by the boys who whipped, tortured, and fucked him to "learn about the qualities" of the animal they had sold; it was what they called a fag test drive.

The boys used their cell phones for the auction, and at the agreed time, they had more than 500 online followers watching the bid live. Before the auction started, they made the pervert swallow several pills and injected something into his ass.

H was initially presented dressed in a shirt and slacks and undressed on camera to show that he was a real guy who was willingly selling himself. They showed the buyer his documents and gave all his details online.

They put HB on his knees and started the auction by making him suck one of the guys who covered his face in cum. To show that the old man was an experienced and competent cocksucker.

Then, they stuck an iron in his dick to show the size of his dick erect. While one of the boys tightened a collar around his neck, the other began to crush and twist one of the fag's nipples with force and sadism. The pain was immense; the boy was powerful and squeezed the pliers mercilessly. HB felt his body tremble and his dick pulse excitedly; suddenly, a squirt of cum came out with great force, escaping between the iron and his rock-hard penis! The camera filmed the ejaculation, and followers enjoyed seeing the pain exciting the perverted slave.

Afterward, for hours, his nipples were cruelly injured. At the same time, HB repeated to the audience on the boys' cell phone everything they had announced, all the forms of torture and mutilation he accepted to suffer.

He accepted that all his bones would be broken, that his teeth, his nipples, his lips, his nose, his fingers, his tongue, and his eyes could be brutally ripped out.

That his hands and feet could be cut off, he accepted red-hot tongs and rods, acid, and skinning. 

He continued speaking his text while signing the documents with authorizations for each form of destruction. He only saw the light on his face and felt short of breath as the collar was getting tighter and tighter, suffocating him. At the same time, the big boy with the pliers continued pinching, crushing, and twisting several pieces of his chest with great force, cruelty, and violence.

Sometimes, HB stopped reading the text, as he almost passed out from pain and shortness of breath. Then, in the middle of the auction, he just passed out.

He woke up feeling a lot of pain from the wounds on his chest. He lost track of time, he didn't know how long he had been unconscious, and when he understood where and how he was, he realized that he was face down on the floor with his wrists tied behind his back and being fucked hard by the big boy.

HB asked the boys, with his face and injured chest rubbing the floor:

-Did you manage to sell me?

The boy who was fucking him, holding him by the hair, replied:

- Yes, we did it, you piece of shit, the cost wasn't much, but in three weeks, we'll send you to Australia. The owner of a workshop in Brisbane bought you and said he would have a barbecue with your old carcass!

- Besides your money and the money the guy will pay, we agreed that we would stay with you for this time here just to have fun torturing and fucking you. Besides, some of our clients here in the city paid to use and torture you during these days.

HB breathed a sigh of relief and happiness, simply closed his eyes, and felt his body receiving the thrusts of the boy who was fucking him; he came happily, imagining everything that would happen to him, his dream finally coming true.

The second part of this post is at this link below:

https://bdsmmaledrawings.blogspot.com/2023/10/a-drawing-for-perverted-and-masochistic.html

In this drawing, my sister and I are riding beasts through the fields of one of our farms.

 With the improvement of neoliberal capitalism and the elimination of all institutional and legal barriers to the free market, the world found a long phase of development and wealth like never before. 

Slavery was legalized in all countries; people could now be officially registered as human beasts. The laws were clear: "HU" beasts could not be humanized again, and the reduction was irreversible and definitive.

HU beasts are not protected by any law or right; not even laws that protect animals apply to these brute and despicable beings; they are just things to be used and discarded without limits.

This new law solved many illegal migrants, homeless, and needy people who disturbed order and generated police and environmental problems. Finally, they were incorporated into production chains to generate wealth as enslaved workers, herds for producing blood and organs for transplants, or even livestock for slaughter and production of milk and meat. 

Farms for breeding HU beasts have prospered in all nations. Advanced veterinary care for these beasts allowed the development of breeds more adapted to heavy work, more muscular, larger, and more docile. Other smaller breeds were developed for work in tunnels, underground pipes, wells, and maintenance of large machines. More lustful and permanently horny breeds were created for all types of prostitution and sexual diversions.

Any human can be enslaved either for having committed crimes or for debts, so there are no more problems of crime or poverty in our cities! Families could sell children to generate income or because they are unwanted. With the legalization of all forms of slavery, the number of voluntary slaves was also surprising; most were perverted fagots who volunteered for slavery out of simple sexual perversion or to pay off their families' debts.

My family gets rich by raising and selling different types of HU beasts for different types of work. I grew up having several of these animals in our home. In this drawing, my sister and I are riding beasts through the fields of one of our farms. 

I, like some of my uncles and cousins, prefer to ride beasts that were once people born human, especially those reduced by poverty or debt as adults.

This type of beast, as soon as it is enslaved, usually has its vocal cords cut, and even if they receive high doses of hormones and steroids, they do not lose that sad, melancholy, and resigned look to slavery. They maintain a particular shame throughout their lives due to nudity and humiliation, which I find charming and makes me horny. 

These two riding beasts still moan and cry when whipped and fucked.

I love seeing them crying sad!

A drawing for a perverted and masochistic friend!

When I made the last few posts, an old fagot called HB, very masochistic and submissive, showed me his posts in which he sought to find someone who would use his old, flaccid body in the most brutal and fatal ways. He dreams of someone violently wrecking him with sadism and cruelty.

This is the post he regularly shares on his Twitter profile.

So, I kindly offered him these drawings, showing his dream coming true. A rich guy who owns a medium-sized industry decided to take this old fagot and have fun at his expense, making his dreams come true.

He is part of a group of sadistic dominators who were looking for the opportunity to honestly and without limits torture some truly masochistic fagot.

HB was overjoyed, surprised, and stunned to find someone who wanted to use him; within a week, he arrived at the airport of his savior tormentor. 

They took him directly to the factory far from the city's edge. They ripped off the older man's clothes and handed him to a group of cruel guys to be beaten, tortured, and gang-raped. There were days of relentless beatings, torture, and sexual abuse.

His throat was destroyed by hard, thick cocks thrust repeatedly until he choked. His jaw was dislocated from so many fucks and punches and slaps in the face. His anus was enlarged by countless rapes, penetrated by cocks, fists, rods, and tubes of varying diameters.

His nipples were crushed by bites and pliers and burned by blowtorches, soldering irons, and cigarettes.

His body was whipped, burned, and tortured in the most painful and violent ways; however, during all these days, the perv fagot only moaned with lust and pleasure. At no point did he ask for mercy or protest against the abuse. Sometimes, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the excitement when his nipples were crushed and burned. He howled excitedly and horny when the whips ripped his back!

He sucked the cocks placed in his mouth eagerly, enthusiastically, drinking all the cum and licking the cocks insatiably.

All the boys who beat him saw the pleasure and excitement the old fagot felt from the pain, abuse, and humiliation.

When the old whore managed to say something, when his mouth wasn't sucking the cock of one of the executioners, he screamed, begging: Hit harder, you can hit without mercy, that's what I want, that's what this perverted old whore deserves and likes!

The factory owner showed the class the post H shared on the internet. They tried to fulfill each of the perverted fagot's requests. They pulled out some of his teeth with pliers and all of his nails, broke his nose, tore off his ears with pliers, ground, and burned his nipples with a hot iron.

However, they left his eyes so he could see everything he suffered, and they did not castrate him because they enjoyed watching him have erections and ejaculate many times during the torture. One of the boys milked him many times to see how much cum that older fag could ejaculate. After over twenty times, he gave up on masturbating the insatiable pervert.

It was a week of violent pleasure for the insane and insatiable queer. He didn't eat anything; he was fed by sperm and drank the piss of the cruel executioners; he lost about ten kilos in a few days.

Over the weekend, they placed an iron bar on his back and tied his neck, arms and legs, and his scrotum to the bar. Then, they used a small crane to take him to the bar for the barbecue.

When H saw that he was being taken to be placed over the burning fire, he came once more. Speaking with difficulty due to his dislocated jaw, missing teeth, and destroyed throat, he still moaned: thank you guys! Thanks guys! Thank you very much, guys!

And then he blacked out.

It wasn't a moan of despair or pain; it seemed to be a moan of ecstasy and pleasure.

This post continues the previous one.

https://bdsmmaledrawings.blogspot.com/2023/08/i-let-him-spend-night-there-tied-up.html

This image shows minutes before the fagot boy passed out and before he blacked out for good. When I, his father, and his brothers and cousins took him to the barbecue, we ensured he was awake and conscious to watch the scene. 

The Germans who hired the boy to be turned into a long pig wanted him to be roasted alive and conscious for as long as possible in front of them.

I believe that all of us, even the boy, wanted it to be like this. We were all aware that this was the cathartic, ecstatic moment, seeing it on the grill over a lit fire, roasting it as slowly as possible.

One of his brothers stood next to him, taking care of his head, pouring glasses of water over his head so that he would remain conscious for as long as possible. The brother stroked his head affectionately as if he wanted to calm down and comfort the pig while roasting. A cousin used two thick and long steel skewers to play with the faggot's dick. Before placing the slut on the grill, we tied the base of his dick so that it would be hard. I believed that roasted this way, though, would look better on the decorated platter. When his cousin rubbed the steel skewers against its dick, the perv seemed to ejaculate and cum one last time.

So that the pig wouldn't vomit the fillings I stuffed into him the day before, we kept the gag closing his mouth. He couldn't say anything, but over the fire, he moaned loudly. It wasn't a moan of despair or pain, but strangely, it seemed to be a moan of ecstasy and pleasure. The creepy moved sensually as if rubbing himself against the grill and iron skewers, trying to stimulate himself sexually.

While he was dying, the Germans masturbated and watched; they came many times. I can say that I and his relatives felt enormous pleasure in making that bitch dance lascivious on the fire.

The pig sweat, tears and sperm mixed with the spices, butter, and sauces I poured over him would soon be bursting into golden bubbles, transforming his leather into tasty and aromatic crunchy cracklings.

He died on the grill in less than fifteen minutes, but the scene was fantastically sexy and exciting for everyone.

I am convinced that not only our German customers but his entire family were very satisfied with the tenderness and flavor of the meat served.

I was paid well, but I felt so much pleasure and satisfaction that I could have baked it for free.

Our shared sex toy.

We met years ago through gay BDSM apps. He sought some sadistic dominator and dreamed of being kept in permanent and irreversible captivity. A friend of mine, a sadist, is a partner in a transport company with garages and warehouses in various parts of the city's outskirts. He said he had a small, unused mechanic shop that no one had been to for many years.

I organized with this friend and three other sadistic colleagues to keep the shit fagot chained in this place for shared use. We have the keys to the site; we can go there and do whatever we want with the opportunities we get. We are all married, heterosexual men with families, good incomes, and friends. The fag appears to be a guy of Arab origin with a big nose, very hairy and ugly. He must be around 30 years old, not tall, fat, and bald, with a beautiful, thick, and big dick and beautiful, soft balls hanging from a big scrotum.

This arrangement has been working very well for over seven years!

I picked him up when he arrived at the bus station in our city; I took him straight to the garage. I undressed him, chained him, and burned his clothes and documents. I didn't want to know his name, story, or voice. We agree that he must always remain silent and learn not to say anything anymore. His mouth is just for sucking our dicks and swallowing whatever we tell him to swallow, be it dog food, piss, or shit. He sucks very well; with affection, passion, and competence, he swallows all the cum without spilling a single drop. Our cum seems to be his favorite food.

I learned that he can bare different types of torture very well; he moans, cries, sweats and writhes, and even faints, but he has horny, has many erections, and cums while I crush his nipples or balls. He has excellent healing; the wounds we open on his back with the whips bleed extensively but heal quickly.

The slut is our perfect sex toy; he obeys meekly and accepts everything to please us. My toy partners and I have taken many other colleagues, friends, and curious people to abuse and play with it. For me, it's easier to use it in the middle of the afternoon on workdays; I can stay there for two or three hours fucking, being sucked, and crushing its nipples in between visiting a client or supplier. One of my partners gets his friends together to "play cards," they all tell their wives that they are at the other's house and spend the night testing whips and practicing whipping the fagot until the walls of the workshop are covered in stains from the blood that splashes.

A friend of mine went with me on a "visit" while I cruelly crushed the pervert's nipples; my friend had fun burning the faggot's penis with cigarettes and cigars. Some of the burns were so severe that they left a permanent mark, but while he held his penis to burn it, the fagot came and ejaculated a lot! I don't know if he was moaning with desperation or with lust.

One day, this friend, who enjoys CBT, found a big industrial battery in the corner of the garage that automotive workshops have for charging truck or bus batteries. And it still worked! We spent hours attaching the electrical clips to the faggot's tits, dick, balls, and tongue, testing different voltages and ways of making him suffer. He had convulsions, shook a lot, and then stiffened, becoming stiff and tense with his eyes wide open. The bitch pissed and shit without control; we had a lot of fun with the new torture instrument.

Sometimes, a perv toy goes days or weeks without any visit or use. That's why we leave pots of food and water within his reach. We agreed that when we left the warehouse, we would always leave it chained with its hands behind him so he couldn't touch himself. He is chained so that he can only crawl; he has learned to eat like a pig without using his hands.

His ass was still narrow when we started using it. One of the partners began to insert increasingly wider dildos, stretching his anus. The garage owner pays one of his employees to clean the place, wash his clothes, and shave his hair once a month. It seems that the guy who does the service also uses our toy, but okay, we don't see a problem with that.

I don't know how this situation will end. I know it will end one day, but I will miss having a toy to use freely, without worries or fears. Even though I can only use it once or twice a week, even when I'm at home on the couch with the family watching TV at night, I get a hard-on remembering that that piece of shit is there, naked and chained to the dirty, hard, cold, dirty garage floor waiting for me.

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.

I think he was the happiest of all of us. Second part.

My father used to say that when he and his brothers went out with the herds of goats to take them to the pastures to eat, it was enough for them to go far enough away from the house so that the adults wouldn't see them anymore because that queer brother would already take off all his clothes. He put the collar around his neck as if he were one of the goats in the herd.

When he started to do that, the other kids joked around, treating him with mockery and meanness as if he were a goat, and he accepted the jokes without complaining, walking around on all fours and naked the whole time.

But the goats of the herd were also used by the older boys for juvenile sex. The bigger boys fucked the goats and gave them their penises to lick. It was they who discovered the most effective uses for the goat brother. Soon he knew how every boy in the village liked to be blown, and they all knew every crease in his asshole. For years, the village's favorite goat was a secret only for adults, as all the boys and young men knew very well how to use this particular goat.

I let him spend the night there, tied up, sweating the better to absorb all the spices and sauces.

He found me on the internet years ago, asking me to do this to him. 

He said that he was a submissive and masochistic faggot. He dreamed of being roasted like a piglet and served to rich and sadistic men who would enjoy his suffering and submission, eating his flesh with satisfaction and contempt. At first, I thought it would be just another wanker faggot fantasizing to masturbate. Due to his insistence, I realized that this was precisely what he ardently and really wanted.

Since I am a famous and experienced barbecuer and specialist in preparing pigs and large hunted animals on the grill or in the oven, I gave him the conditions and the price I would charge for baking him when he found someone who would make his fantasy come true. He contacted me months ago, delighted to have found a group of wealthy Germans who would rent a farm in the interior of Portugal for a month, and wanted him to be served at the group's last lunch.

When I received my advance payment, I traveled by train to Lisbon and by UBER to the address given to the south of Coimbra.

I stayed ten days at the beautiful and sophisticated farm before we started preparing the tender fag. In those days of vacation and rest, I saw the naked pig restless, working all the time to please all the ten men staying there. I soon understood that four of them were the Germans paying all the expenses, including mine. It was an uneducated, noisy, fat, and drunk group who treated everyone with truculence and did not speak or understand a word of Portuguese. The other men were all relatives of the fagot, two brothers older than him, an uncle, and three cousins who owned the farm.

The cunt slut worked around the clock, always naked and on a leash, to serve and please them all, serving meals and cocktails, tidying up rooms, giving blowjobs, and getting fucked by everyone, especially the Germans. All men treated the slaved fag with brutality and contempt, but the Germans were incredibly violent and cruel, giving brutal slaps, kicks, punches, and beatings with sticks and whips.

Two days before dinner, the fag was handed over to me to start the preparations. I made him vomit many times and did a violent and complete stomach and intestinal lavage, removing everything solid in his digestive system. I began stuffing it through the throat and the anus with spices and cooked vegetables. I kept him in a very hot corner of the kitchen, next to the oven, very hot indeed, almost a sauna, to open up all his pores, and I rubbed peppers, oil, and salt all over his skin.

In this preparation process, his eyes were irritated by the salt, pepper, and oils; his throat burned with the peppers and spices; I had to put the gag sealing the top outlet so he wouldn't vomit. It took nearly ten hours of prep before your belly was stuffed with all the vegetables I shoved up your ass.

The process was cruel; he felt nausea, burning, thirst, hunger and pain from having his anus broken into by more than five kilos of fruits and vegetables. The worst part for him was that after stuffing it, I had to sew his anus so no filling would spill out. The pain of the stitching must have been immense; he was sweating, moaning, and shaking with pain. He could barely breathe and couldn't vomit because he had the gag on.

The Germans and the faggot's relatives accompanied part of the process, laughing and taking photos of his extreme suffering. His relatives, especially his uncle, seemed buoyed by the money earned and relieved to be rid of this family problem.

Still, only I noticed that the faggot had several erections during the painful process, and I saw that he was crying with grief and lust when he came the third time without no one touching his dick.

I let him spend the night there, tied up, sweating the better to absorb all the spices and sauces. I went to the corner of the kitchen a few times to see if something was leaking, and what was dripping the most was the sperm from his dick.

I can only say that everyone praised the meat served at lunch the next day.

I think he was the happiest of all of us.

Our village was poor; the region was just sand and stone, and it wasn't easy to plant anything. Life was uncompromising and straightforward. The little water in the area was scarce and very controlled. Summers were hot and dry, winters very cold. Most of the days were consumed carrying water for the houses and livestock. Our mules had to do this painful and heavy work as the slopes were very steep. In addition to mules, we raised a few cows, goats, and chickens. The shepherding of the goats was the lightest task and involved the youngest children.

My father used to say that at this stage of childhood, when he was so young, he and his brothers stayed with the others taking care of the goats; one of his brothers, our uncle, had already asked to be among the goats; he liked to be naked and be treated like one of the animals. The boys who worked with the goats started their sex lives by fucking these animals; my father used to say that our uncle was treated, beaten, and fucked as if he were one of the goats. One day, our grandfather saw the other boys abusing him, and he was naked, on all fours, with a collar on and bleating like one of the goats in the herd.

My father says their father squatted next to the youngest, pulling him by the collar and asking: Are you a fag goat? The boy, without blinking, replied to his father: Yes, I am a fag goat.

My grandfather pulled the leash until he lifted the naked kid off the ground, spat in his face, and threw him on the hard ground, saying: From now on, this fag shit is not a boy anymore; he is one of the village animals, you always keep him on a leash, ok? You can hit, kick, fuck, do whatever you want with this slut goat.

So, since childhood, this uncle of mine was treated by the whole family and everyone in our village like one of our animals. My grandfather never again let him wear clothes or walk without a collar and harness like other mules. The tin bells that we tied to the animals to locate them were tied to his balls, and wherever he walked, he made that noise that mules, cows, and some goats made when walking along the steep and uneven trails in our region.

My sisters, brothers, neighbors, and friends used to lead the animals in transporting water and supplies up the hill. Any one of us drove any of the animals, we knew each of them, and we learned how to make them march in rhythm, even in the most challenging passages, using sticks and whips to motivate them. 

Our life was rough; we worked hard, didn't treat any animals with kindness, and were stiff and scratchy in dealing with them. But I tell you that my uncle was the one who was treated with the most violence and cruelty by everyone. When my father led his brother up the hill, he whipped so violently that the animal arrived at our house with its back dripping with blood. Our grandmother, one of the village's gentlest women, beat her son with such sadism that I was amazed at how her old arm cut such deep wounds into the animal's thighs.

I believe it was hard daily work that made him the strongest of all we had. The robust and hairy body, dirty with earth and sand, covered with wounds and scars, with fleas and ticks, stank like the other animals, circulated without rest or embarrassment all day up and down the hill. All day, we listened to the shouts of command from those driving him, mingled with its moans, the cracking of sticks and whips, and the ringing of bells between its legs.

At night, like all the other men in the village, I would go to the stables to rape or be sucked by the filthy animal.

None of us in the village felt any pity for the slut animal, as we all knew it was like that because it wanted to be like that. I could see that it took absolute pleasure when it was whipped, fucked, or worked hard, naked all day. I saw him sucking the guys' dicks with such care and enthusiasm that none of our women felt when putting those dirty, pissed, and sweat-smelling dicks in their mouths. When we fucked him, we could do it brutally and forcefully, one after the other, as it never complained. Sometimes, during rapes, his cock got so hard it felt like he would come at any moment. Sometimes, revolted by our animal's lust and pleasure, I would kick his colossal cock, and he would moan and ejaculate with desire.

We all took out our frustrations, revolt, and dissatisfaction with life on him. Seeing him covered in sores and bruises, blood and sperm from all of us, we felt superior - we were fucked up, shitty, but he was the most miserable and despised of all! And yet, I think he was the happiest of all of us.

My boss knows how to help me to overcome my limits.

The experiment manager realized that the new employee was gay during selection, which was one reason for his selection. In interviews during the selection process, the boss discovered that the young man had a very precarious financial situation and needed the job; he asked about sexual orientation and practices, researched his pages on the Internet, and discovered his most intimate and secret practices.

After weeks of working there, he told his new employee that he and the director used to stay on Thursday nights to talk and smoke Havanas and wanted him to stay next Thursday to join in the conversation. The employee said that he didn't smoke or even like the smell of smoke but was honored by the invitation and accepted it with pleasure.

On Thursday, after all the other employees left, he went to the principal's office with his manager.

The manager sat him in one of the chairs, and while he was talking to the director, he grabbed a handcuff.

"Robert, as told you, this new guy is a fag, submissive, and masochistic; I think he'll enjoy serving us by joining our cigar nights!"

The manager came up behind the chair and handcuffed the guy's wrists behind the back of the seat. The guy was surprised by the situation, but he enjoyed BDSM sessions; he was, in fact, a masochistic and submissive faggot, so he decided to let it roll, accepting, surprised, and excited about what would come.

The manager unbuttoned his shirt, opened his pants, and lowered them, leaving the naked boy on the chair.

Meanwhile, the director opened boxes of Havana cigars and lit them with long puffs. The manager got his already lit cigar, and the two sat down, one on each side of the young man, and started talking about varied subjects, from sports to politics.

As they spoke, they ran their hands over the employee's body, stroking and groping, especially his cock, balls, and nipples. The boy sat there, silent and motionless, enjoying being handled, getting excited, with his cock hard and throbbing with lust. 

Then, the manager took a long drag and brought the cigar to the boy's nipple. The employee soon realized the intention, closed his eyes, bit his lips, and puffed out his chest, offering his nipple to his boss's Havana.

When the ember of the lit Havana touched his nipple, the pain was unbearable, he shuddered and tried to retreat, but the director held him saying calmly.

"My boy, hang in there; I know it hurts, but you'll learn to bear it, won't you?"

Tears streamed from his eyes, and a groan of pain escaped his lips, but he managed to maintain his position.

As the director said, he learned to endure such pain.

The two men talked animatedly while smoking and burning their employee's body all night. They used the boy's mouth as an ashtray, slamming all the ash down his throat. At the night's end, the men lifted the employee, still handcuffed and with his pants down around his ankles, and placed him prone on the director's desk. The two men raped him violently.

The week passed quickly, and what happened that night was not discussed with anyone else; it was only in the boy's memory and the wounds and burns on his body.

The following Thursday, the employee went alone to the director's office, which was still empty, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled down his pants, and sat in the chair, putting his arms behind him. When the men entered, they laughed at the employee's attitude and handcuffed his wrists.

Each week the burns became more serious; the director liked to firmly hold the employee's balls and burn the balls and penis with his Havanas. The boy had a big dick and a nice scrotum with big balls. When the manager or director put the cigars on the dick's head, the boy would cry with pain and lust. Sometimes, during the torture sessions, his hard cock ejaculated precum with so much lust, but his bosses didn't let him come sadistically edging the hard cock and exploring its limits.

As the weeks passed, after the torture with the cigars, he began to suck his superiors' cocks, on his knees, with his wrists handcuffed before being fucked.

After a year, the personnel department interviewed the employee and asked if he was happy with his job or would like to be transferred to another department.

"I am delighted with my work, salary, and tasks. My manager knows how to identify my talents and vocations, showing that we are capable and helping us to overcome our limits."