Since I was sold as a beast of burden due to debt, my life is just painful and horny; I am much happier in this role than in the life I had.

 The new super-liberal laws abolished all labor and social legislation limiting the free market, allowing everything to be freely traded and sold. All public services were privatized. In a short time, society entered a cycle of unlimited prosperity and wealth.

Companies that manage prisons sell their prisoners. Indebted families sold their children, and animal breeding companies began raising humans for sale and work.

This is the perfect world in which I grew up and studied. I worked excitedly at an investment consultancy company, and within a few years, I already had shares in very innovative and profitable companies. However, when I was 22, one of these companies went bankrupt, leaving me no way to pay off my debts.

Privatized justice is much more agile and efficient; within a week, all my assets were taken, and I was sold to pay my debts.

Delivery apps use human animals to work as beasts of burden until exhaustion and slaughter. So that they work without problems, drugs were developed to make these beasts more stupid, docile, and obedient. For the working beasts to have more strength, they inject large doses of hormones into their muscles, testicles, and hair all over the body. Ever since they made me the beast of burden, I feel doped, stoned, horny, and my dick is dripping with cum all the time.

A guy who knew me from the bank bought me to ride around town on me. He put rings on my nose, nipples, and the head of my dick; he likes a riding saddle strapped to my hips connected to a huge dildo shoved up my ass. When he jumps over the tackle, I feel as if the dildo enters my throat, causing more pain and excitement.

He enjoys going to the bars I used to go to, on the streets where I walked, showing off naked and hairy, spilling cum on the asphalt. He uses a long carbon stick to spank me and seems to poke my dick and balls when we walk. The more he pounds me, the hornier I feel, and the more cum I spill.

The most surprising thing is that I feel so horny that I feel like I also like being seen by my friends and colleagues as this disgusting, perverted animal.

I believe that I am much happier in this job than in the life I once had.

Three years of slavery: being freed. Part eight.

One day, when I was alone in the house, I saw a guy whom I hadn't seen in years, the guy who had made the contract for me to be in slavery for three years. The time had run out, and I didn't even remember it.

I had been delivered to my Owner by this same agent, who maintained a sex app on the internet for the sale and rental of submissive and masochistic fagots to sadistic and dominant Owners.

Years ago, he must have charged my Owner a sum of money for handing me over for three years, with the rules that he and I established that they shouldn't cut any part out or break any bone. 

For three years, I served as a sex toy for my Owner and his boyfriend without being able to complain about any breach of contract.

They held me captive, used and tortured me cruelly, fed me, and altered my body by injecting so many things that I didn't even know what they were doing.

Now, the guy from the app arrives at the house, brings a change of clothes, asks me to get dressed, and tells me to take off the collar. I obeyed and followed him to the car. He left me in a small, cheap hotel room where I could shower and find other clothes.

He handed me a bank card; I saw I had a good cash balance. In a few weeks, I tried to get used to getting my life back, going back to work, and having an everyday life.

It had been three years since I slept in a bed or wore a piece of clothing; none of this was familiar or made sense to me anymore.

I looked in the mirror, and what I saw didn't seem like me. The pig nose, pointy tits, huge balls, and dick made me look pathetic and grotesque. Without the grooming that kept my hair short, I was hairy and bearded in a short time, and my entire body was covered in thick, long hair, which made it look more like an animal than a person. 

I drooled when I spoke, and it seemed like I had never used forks or knives; I had lost my coordination in front of a plate. The most challenging act was talking; I couldn't articulate the words naturally, my voice sounded like a growl, and I couldn't even think usually.

I lost the ability to control myself; I was shitting and urinating in my pants uncontrollably. 

When I went out on the streets, I felt ashamed of the ugly, smelly trash I had become. I didn't feel like people; I felt like I was dressed up and pretending to be something I wasn't - I felt like I wasn't a person anymore.

When I met a familiar face, the person didn't recognize me; they looked at me with strangeness and disgust. I wasn't me anymore.

I was afraid to leave my room and fell into deep depression and sadness. I desperately missed the kitchen floor, nudity, and slavery. I felt like my place in the world was chained and naked.

Desperate, I called the man who freed me and asked if I could go back and be my Master's slave again.

The only thing left of him for me is his sadism, and I'm happy with that.

I had been looking for a gay BDSM relationship for years without success. A little over five years ago, I finally found a handsome and sadistic young man who accepted me as his exclusive fag slave.

He is young, sexy, beautiful, intelligent, and charming, and I decided to live just for him, doing all his wishes.

I work for a transport company and don't make much money, but since he came to live with me, my salary has been entirely deposited into his account. I haven't had the slightest control over my account for years, and everything I have now is his.

From when I get home until I leave for my job, I spend the entire time naked and taking care of the housework, washing his clothes, tidying his house, and cooking for him. 

In the early years, I sucked his dick from time to time, and he fucked me a few times, but over time he lost interest in me and started inviting cute boys the same age as him to fuck him at home. I couldn't complain, I'm just shit, and he's my owner! He is over twenty years old; I am already close to fifty.

The only interest he still has in me is when he exercises his sadism. He is really sadistic and loves to spend hours making me horny, suffering, feeling endless pain and excitement. He enjoys giving painful electric shocks to my nipples, balls, and cock. This is our sex; it is the reward I get for giving myself entirely and without limits to him.

Sometimes, he leaves the house on Friday night and leaves me chained with the wires stuck in my body, sets the timer so that I get shocked for five minutes every hour, and he only comes back on Sunday afternoon, tired and Too drunk to remember to unchain me. On Monday morning, he releases my chains, I take a shower, removing all the cum, piss, and shit that runs from my body, and I go to work famish and exhausted to earn money for my owner.

I know I'm worthless, too old, and ugly to please a handsome young guy like him, but I'm thrilled to live for him. He treats me like a shitty old perverted faggot, but that's what I am. I'm happy for every minute he uses me; I love the humiliation, the contempt, and the violence with which he treats me. That is my pleasure, and I feel that, in my way, I still give you some fun.