Three Years of Slavery: Living Under the Whip. Part six.

When I agreed to spend three years as a slave to my Owner, we signed a long and detailed document that established that he could do whatever he wanted with me, with my body, as long as he didn't take any part of me or my life. I feel horny and pleasure with pain and being humiliated; I have always been very masochistic. I like being fucked and sucking dicks and assholes. When I met my Owner, I saw in him an experienced and balanced sadistic dominator; after years of weekly and regular sessions, I asked to stay with him 24/7 for at least three years, and we signed the contract.

The contract was clear: it was not a relationship; I was simply his submissive and devoted slave. I loved the firm way he whipped me, and I loved feeling his cigars and cigarettes burning my nipples, my dick, and my balls.

I got used to the permanent nudity, the dog food, the housework, and the tedious afternoons alone, tied up on the laundry room floor waiting for him. I learn to enjoy this routine of pain and submission immensely.

I had to endure the breakage and deformation of my nose, the deformation and grotesque growth of my nipples, my dick, and my scrotum. The whole process was painful and scary. I would have preferred not to have been so deformed, but I endured it without question out of respect for the agreement and to please him. I wouldn't say I like the way I look; I'm much uglier and more grotesque than I was; I look like a fat, pathetic pig. I suffered and cried a lot due to sadness and fear throughout the process, but I endured it.

However, since my Owner started dating this young man, my life has changed significantly. When the boy started coming to the house, I was already a grotesque pig, and my Owner encouraged him to use me, fuck me, torture me, and especially whip me.

The boy really got a taste for the whip. 

I believe he wanted to make it clear to me and my Owner, my place in the house and their relationship: I was just their thing, their sex toy.

Their relationship was that of Boy and Daddy; he was a beautiful, lazy, vain, and spoiled boy. My Owner made all his wishes, covered him with gifts, and supported all his dreams.

My Owner would leave the house to work and leave the boy all day playing video games, surfing the internet, and making fun of me. I learned to drink his piss without disturbing him so he wouldn't have to stop the video game when he wanted to piss. I learned to endure violent punishments when he lost a game and needed to vent his anger.

He was especially interested in testing each type of whip, how each one sounds when it cracks in the air, and how each one hurts the body, my body. I had to learn to do all the household chores while being violently and painfully whipped.

On the weekends, he would sometimes invite his friends from the gym and the network to parties at the house and loved to show them his skill with the longest and heaviest whips, tearing and injuring my body, already covered with wounds and scars accumulated in countless beatings. He spent hours thinking he was the best, tirelessly displaying his skills. Few of his friends were interested in the bloody and repetitive scene, and not even my Owner found it interesting or exciting. Just the young man and me!

My thick, deformed cock was vibrating all the time and dripping with excitement and pre-cum. My vast and sensitive nipples hurt so much when they were whipped, but they were hard and pointy with lust! Hanging naked from the branches of the tree, I felt like a despicable and deformed animal in front of that beautiful and rich youth who showed disinterest and contempt for me and my suffering. But I felt incredibly horny the entire time; the humiliation and pain were everything I wanted, and I wanted those beatings never to end!