When my older brother gathered his friends for camping trips, he always took me with him.

My older brother quickly realized who I was, the masochistic slut I was born to be, and he knew how to use and treat me the way I wanted to be treated. He made me his little slave, humiliated and beat me at school, and taught me to suck his dick and swallow his piss and cum while we were still teenagers.

At school camps, he would take me to the woods to fuck me and offer my services and holes to all his classmates. I tried hard to please him, to do everything he wanted, and I loved being used and pimped like a bitch by him.

My lust, my obedience, and above all, my hard cock showed him and everyone else that I was horny and happy being abused by them.

He went to college, graduated, got married, and has a structured life and family, with children and a successful career.

I distanced myself from my family, I have no contact with my parents or relatives, I don't have many friends, and, like a stupid, gay bum, I isolated myself, having few friends.

I'm a shitty gas station attendant, single, who hooks up using apps and is looking, without much success, for richer, dominant men to support me.

Every year, he gathers his friends for a "wife-free" camp, and he takes me along to be their whore. For three or four days, I do all the manual labor. I set up the tents, prepared the meals, washed all the dishes, and cleaned up the mess, working like a slave to the group, naked the whole time. During those days, I couldn't open my mouth, say anything; I just listened, obeyed, and accepted all the cruelty and nasty jokes. I get slapped, punched, spat on, and kicked. I'm treated like the piece of shit I am, which I like.

Sometimes they tie me to an iron bar and have fun whipping me for long hours, laughing and drinking excitedly. They love telling old stories and the same jokes every year while they beat me, cruelly tearing and hurting my ass and back.

They really despise me; to them, I'm just a fucking faggot, dirty piece of meat. I can moan, cry, beg, and they simply don't care about my pleas or suffering. I love being there so much, in that role and place, that I even come a few times, and they don't even notice that.

When the beatings are over, many of them fuck me and fill my throat and my ass with their dirty penises. They cruelly bite my nipples, put out their cigarettes on my breasts and my dick.

At night, I end up in their tents, covered in sperm, piss, blood, and spit, sleeping embraced by one of them. Happy as can be, doing my best to make sure they put me in the same situation the following year. And grateful to have the best brother in the world!!

My Uncle's Bitch, Part 2.

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The evolution of slave laborers over just a few generations was extraordinary.

When all labor rights were eliminated and slavery restored, delivery companies saw that human beasts were much cheaper than robots or drones. With the environmental crisis, pandemics, and climate change, deliveries made by slaves became commonplace in all cities. Initially, they were made by indebted people, prisoners, illegal immigrants, and all sorts of imbeciles bought as slaves. They were sick, dirty, disobedient, and inefficient beings. Beatings and chains could not improve their efficiency or performance.

Over time, companies developed and began to breed slaves in breeding farms, genetically and chemically altering the animals. Their muscles grew, their brains shrank, and with hormones and vitamins, they became much stronger, docile, and efficient slaves. They were born slaves; they don't question anything, they don't complain, they accept and obey. The most modern slaves are capable of carrying backpacks weighing over 50 kilos all day long, without rest and without beatings. They are microchipped, geo-referenced, and receive electric shocks when they stroll or stray from the established paths.

 

This was our weekly happy hour.

A coworker found me in a BDSM chat room, and before I knew it, before I recognized him, it was too late, he'd discovered I was a perverted, masochistic, submissive old faggot.

At my employer, an insurance company affiliated with Pentecostal churches, this information would be fatal; the revelation could result in immediate and summary dismissal. I was the oldest employee, already approaching 60, and they were all in their early 30s.

So, my coworker began blackmailing me, ordering me to stay after work and abusing me as his slave and bitch. Soon, he invited several other colleagues to join what he called "their happy hour", or, as he put it, "my unhappy hour", or my hardest work hour.

They would take me to the company cafeteria, where the floor was easier to clean, order me to strip naked, get on all fours, put a collar on me, and begin beating me and shoving things up my ass. Some were so excited they'd shove their dicks in my mouth for me to give them blowjobs; others would stub out cigarettes on my nipples, back, cock, and ass, burning them repeatedly with sadism..

They loved to humiliate me. They'd bring me dog food, piss on it, and make me eat it like a despicable dog. They'd spit in my face, kick me, and slap me. I'd always end up bent over the table or on all fours, being raped by all of them, taking turns, dozens of times.

This became our weekly routine. Their happy hour was every Friday, and sometimes it extended into the weekend.

I can assure you that I was the happiest, and I had the best happy hour I could have ever dreamed of!

Now it is just a product for sale, just a body ready to be bought.

This fucking bastard did everything he could to get to where he is now. He searched the internet for sites that could sell him as a slave. He accepted all the worst conditions of renunciation and commercialization, exposed himself to the greatest risks, deep down hoping to be deceived, seeking all the bad things for himself, and he succeeded!

A month ago, he was on the corner of the street where they told him to stay, he was picked up, chained and stripped naked. No one else spoke to him and he couldn't say anything, there was nothing more to say. 

For weeks, he was raped and beaten without respite or limits. He learned the hard way to endure the worst pain without fainting. They filled him with hormones and drugs, pierced his body and nipples with thick and heavy steel rings. They made a laser impression, burning a barcode into his thigh. He can no longer think or speak like before, the drugs have made him an stupid beast. It can only moan and feel its body, it is pure touch, physical sensations such as pain, hunger and cold. It does not think, it only has feelings of excitement and fear.

Now it is just a product for sale, just a body ready to be bought. But this body trembles with excitement, lust and butterflies in his stomach. For weeks, his cock has been ejaculating non-stop and it has been having orgasms of excitement in anticipation of what it will bear and suffer. It had never been so happy, never felt so much excitement and pleasure. If it were slaughtered today, it would die happy, and it would all be worth it.

These pigs were not condemned, they wanted and paid to be here.

 To me, these pieces of shit have no name, age, or any individuality; they're all fucking whores.

The company doesn't want them to ever leave this dungeon again. They'll stay here naked, chained and blindfolded until they die of disease, hunger or until we kill them. They'll just be dragged out to be burned. Some of them even last several years here, eating everything their mouths can find: food, any dirt and even their own shit from the floor.

What I find most curious is that when I enter this stinking, cold and dirty cell, their dicks get hard and start to salivate. They open their mouths thirstily, searching for my dick by the smell. I leave my dick dirty and smelly so they can easily find it. When they find it, they swallow my dick and give delicious blowjobs until I cum in them. It seems that my cum is considered their favorite food. I piss in their mouths too and they drink it all, practically not letting anything spill. I come here several times a day and cum in them many times. Then I beat them, whip them violently and they cry without complaining, they just want me to let them suck me again.

I hang some of them by the collar, leaving them barely reaching the ground. If they wanted to die by hanging, they could easily do it. But, when I enter that hell they writhe lasciviously and moan with lust, like bitches in heat, begging me to let them go so they can suck me. I find their assholes too dirty and wide for me to fuck them, but many of my colleagues fuck and stick thick things in those filthy assholes.

The more we crush or twist their cocks and nipples, the more we torture or whip them, the harder the cocks of these shitty perverts become. They all have iron rings piercing their tits and cocks, because they were forbidden to have sex, but many of them cum while they are being tortured.

The most curious thing is that all these idiots gave everything they had, all their money and possessions, to be placed here, in this place and role, out of pure lust and perversion.

Some visited these pigpens before deciding to pay to be here in these brutal conditions. Some of these perverted bitches saved up money to pay to be chained here, and they all knew there would be no going back.

Nikita is also used as a gift for trading with nomadic tribes.

In addition to being the troop's whore, Nikita is also used as a diplomatic gift to other tribes and groups that appear on the borders of the Russian Empire. When a nomadic Mongolian, Arab or Persian tribe is encountered by border patrols, before the troop simply approaches and risks direct armed conflict, some horsemen approach the tribe, escorting the young man who walks naked alongside them.

As a white, blond boy with a very Russian physique, he is given as a gift to the foreigners. The fact that he is delivered naked and with a hard-on makes his usefulness clear.

Nikita docilely submits to the foreigners, gets fucked, gives blowjobs and accepts everything without question. This attitude creates the conditions for friendly dialogue between the Russian troops and the other nomadic tribes.

As a white, blond boy with a very Russian physique, he is given as a gift to the foreigners. The fact that he is delivered naked and with a hard-on makes his usefulness clear.

Then the Russian colonel comes to the tribe to talk to its leader. Often this conversation takes place while sharing drinks, tobacco and the bitch. There are long negotiation conversations, sometimes tense, sometimes friendly, and these different moods are resolved by using the troop's whore.

When the negotiators are tense, they unload on the guy's back, ripping his skin off. Sometimes they talk while fucking him, sometimes being sucked by him. Insults and difficulties are best resolved this way, often a plentiful table of food helps the negotiation, whores have always been present on these occasions - Nikita plays both roles.

The animal is brought to court gagged and chained, moaning muffledly like a frightened ox. It knows what can happen.

Legislation has advanced, and now, in the perfect neo-liberal world, everything can be resolved by private initiative and the free market. The old and obsolete labor, welfare, and environmental laws have all been removed. 

The young man had a job, but he became addicted to online gambling and began to get into debt. Because he was young and handsome, he began to prostitute himself to pay off part of his debts, but soon his situation became irreversible, and his bills became unpayable. A manager of a prostitution company proposed a purchase agreement to him, who would pay off part of his debts and have him permanently as a bitch in the brothel. The creditors filed a lawsuit to enforce the debts, and it was taken to court for a decision. The owner of the fag proposed to the creditors that he would pay off the debt in ten-year installments. The bitch would work 18 hours a day, being used like a slut, without rest. Modern drugs, hormones and stimulants, widely used in brothels, can keep these types of sexual beasts awake and excited for long hours of brutal sexual abuse.

The creditors know that in this type of work the beasts usually do not last long; in about five years they are already so ruined, sick and deformed that they are no longer of interest to the clients.

That is why they ask the judge to slaughter the beast and sell its organs to pay off the debts. Today, the transplant industry, laboratories and the animal feed industry use everything: hair, kidneys, meat, blood, all the skin, all the bones; nothing is wasted.

The animal is taken to court to be evaluated, muzzled and chained. It is not allowed to give an opinion or make any sound, but even when muzzled it moans and grunts like a frightened ox. It understands what is at stake, it knows what can happen to it.

It shows its penis trying to show that it can generate profit in the brothel. The judge looks to assess the animal's condition, but it seems that the most profitable option would be to dismantle it.

Throughout the long journey, Nikita is humiliated and trained to be the troop`s dog.

When Nikita was handed over to the soldiers, he wore only old pants and boots. A soldier covered him in the army's standard raincoat tent, a thick tissue with a hole for the head and a hood for long foot journeys. 

Nikita followed the troops for weeks, on the long journey on foot to the empire´s borders, being led by a leash like a stray dog, always with his hands tied and shirtless under his raincoat. 

Having his hands tied behind his back was part of the humiliation and training. He often shit and pissed in his pants. He ate only what was thrown on the ground so that he would eat like a disgusting dog, and on his knees, he often drank the piss that the soldiers made directly into his mouth. To make it easier for him to piss or shit, a creative soldier tied the string that held his pants at the base to his cock and scrotum, leaving his ass exposed. The soldiers did not hide their interest in the guy's body, pinching and touching it with enthusiasm and lust. Nikita also showed his dirty and slut nature, insinuating himself to the soldiers, showing off his hard cock, and shaking his ass. 

When the troops camped, the boy was tied to a post or tree and gang raped by all the men. All of them fucked the slut bitch and many of them beat him with belts and whips. Nikita did not scream in pain or beg for mercy, on the contrary, he moaned lewdly, horny, and provoked the group asking for new fucks, worse punishments, and offering blowjobs as a reward to everyone.

When the group was satisfied, exhausted, and went to sleep, the boy covered in piss, sweat, and cum, still tied to the post, willingly sucked all the cocks of the soldiers who wanted to clean their penises before sleeping.

Nikita slept all night tied to the post, filthy with dirt, and with a smile of pride and satisfaction.

The sergeant of the army had known me since high school when I was his sex toy.

The sergeant of the army had known me since high school when I was his sex toy. 

He was the leader of the worst gangs in the school, which caused terror among classmates, teachers, and staff. He was the one who helped me understand what I`m, I felt and desired. He would tell me to go to the bathroom and wait for him naked. I, trembling with fear and lust, obeyed. He would grab me roughly, slap me in the face, pinch and bite my nipples and fuck me so hard that I cried with pain and lust. He taught me to suck and endure his big, hard cock that hurt my throat until I almost choked. He widened all my holes and my mind, he taught me the thrill of being his!

He had dozens of girlfriends and friends, but he would fuck me and use me often in front of his classmates without any embarrassment or shame. Being fucked in public, behind the school, on the street, or in the bar turned him on, and it turned me on even more. 

When he joined the army to become an officer, all he had to do was send me a message telling me to go to the barracks and I would drop everything and obey! 

Several times he kept me naked and chained up for days, being tortured, sucking him, and being raped by him and his fellow soldiers. He and his colleagues were truly sadistic; it wasn't just fucking and being sucked that made them cum. They tortured me cruelly, with pleasure, they beat me a lot, to make it hurt and bruise, but I never asked for mercy. I cried, moaned and sometimes even fainted, but I didn't ask for mercy.

I did not understand the reasons or circumstances that allowed him to keep me chained for so long, nor how long my captivity would last. He never said, and I never asked when I arrived, how long I would be there. He tested my total obedience and willingness, and I never disobeyed or disappointed him. Sometimes it was just one night, more than a week.

When they told me to leave the barracks, I could barely walk. Sometimes they had to keep me in the infirmary for a few days until I could walk without help.

But when I got home, he almost always sent me a message:

- So, bitch? Did you like being used like this? I'll call you again, be available, ready, and recovered!

And I would answer: - I'm your shitty slave! I'll run as soon as my man tells me to! All my holes are yours!

He's the hottest thing in my life!

The joy of selling our perverted and despicable youngest - the parents' view.

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Three years of slavery: deciding what to do with the ugly pig. Part nineteen.

 

My owners lost all interest in the ugly pig.

After all the days of being tortured with electric shocks and hanging by the ankles from the structure of the shed, the animal simply lost all cognition and coordination and became a worm.

It could no longer walk or even stand up on its own. It could not move its paws like a human; it looked like an old, clumsy monkey. It could barely balance some food to put in his mouth. Its feet were twisted and stiff, and it could not step on the ground like a human.

Its mouth was a little crooked; it could no longer speak or chew properly what it tried to eat. He grunted like a pig, moaned, and cried all the time.

It had a dazed look and did not seem to understand what was happening, where it was, or what it was. It lost control of his systems and pissed and shit without any control. His cock seemed semi-hard and throbbing all the time, ejaculating precum, sperm, and piss alternately at any given moment. I gave up on washing it or keeping it clean; it was always dirty with sweat, tears, drool, piss, feces, and sperm, stinking like a filthy pig.

When I whipped him, it didn't even react like before; it simply kept crying and moaning without any reaction. He didn't seem to care or fear any pain, nor did he feel any pleasure.

I showed my owners the pig's stupid, lethargic state and uselessness. They agreed that keeping him in the house no longer made sense and said they intended to eliminate him.

I had no idea what we would do with that dirty, useless, disgusting, and despicable animal.

Shopping day was the best day of the month!

I had recently retired and finally could no longer go to work, and, as I had agreed with my young Master, I became his full-time slave.

I moved permanently into his apartment, gave him all my bank codes and passwords so he could receive my pension, and gave him everything I had and my savings.

The young man was addicted to games, worked freelance from time to time, and spent all day at home playing games and smoking marijuana with friends. Having me as a slave solved several of his problems, including his financial problems with my pension and all my savings; I started to clean the apartment, wash clothes, cook, and work as a domestic servant; he and his colleagues fucked me and made me suck them all the time.

I didn't leave the house for anything; I stayed there naked and working all the time. I only went out once a month when we went shopping, and I looked forward to that day all month long.

When we had to go for monthly purchases, he would make me walk ten blocks always to the same crappy supermarket in the worst part of the poor neighborhood where we lived. Before I left, he would lock my cock in a chastity cage, stick a three-inch butt plug in my ass, and order me to go around wearing only an old jockstrap and worn-out shorts that kept falling.

Walking around the neighborhood barefoot and practically naked, with a collar and leash, was very humiliating and exciting. I could feel my cock throbbing and dripping inside the cage, very horny as if it were going to explode. My Master would take an UBER and meet me at the grocery store. I had to be there to pay for the monthly groceries because he used the retirement voucher I had to sign.

The manager of this grocery store had figured out our thing and let me walk around the joint practically naked like that.

When it was time to pay, he always took me to the office and made me suck him and two other employees at the establishment as part of the payment. They saw my body covered in welts and marks from the beatings that my Master gave me regularly. While I was sucking the guys, the security guard at the grocery store liked to beat me brutally with the rubber truncheon they used to beat up little thieves.

After paying for the groceries, I walked back to the apartment, where my owner took his UBER right after I signed the voucher.

Shopping day was the best day of the month!

This is my life as a thing; I don't complain.

I was the oldest child in the family, and I remember, as a child, still at school, when the government announced the restoration of slavery, which seemed like an excellent idea to all of us. The world had been facing an environmental crisis for years; we needed to reduce our environmental impact and fuel consumption, so all cars and airplanes were abolished. At the same time, ecological disasters, forced migrations, and unemployment generated huge contingents of migrants, and destitute people without any possibility of social inclusion. The solution was to allow them to be captured and sold as slaves. Prisons were abolished, and all prisoners were sold. Laws allowed anyone to be sold or bought as a slave, and slaves were accepted as animals without any rights.

New technologies, grafts, hormones, and drugs were quickly developed so that the new slaves would be more docile, obedient, and strong enough to work.

I remember when, at the age of 16, before I came of age, my father sold me and my brothers to pay part of his debts.

At first, I was shocked, scared, and surprised, but within a few years, I was fully adapted to my new life as a thing.

I have been working for a delivery company for years. I carry backpacks and bags weighing over 80 kilos around the city for 16 hours daily. The chips implanted in me monitor me. The company always knows where I am, how fast I walk, and my heart rate and blood pressure. A device implanted in my ears gives me orders and instructions.

In the mornings and evenings, I am fed with rations that give me strength and the will to work and have made my hair and muscles grow. I feel permanently excited and happy. When I leave for work, they put a butt plug in my ass, which gives me pleasant shocks in my prostate and keeps me excited all the time.

On the other hand, electric devices on my collar and in my ass punish me with electric shocks if I am late or for any mistake.

When I return to the company at the end of work, a report on my daily performance determines whether I will be rewarded or punished. I shit, piss, get washed and fed. 

If I deserve it, I receive drugs that make me immensely happy, and I sleep happily in my cage. If the performance is not perfect, I am whipped and brutally tortured before being caged.

This is my life and role; I can't complain. And I can even say I'm lucky to be who I am.

I haven't had a single day off for many years and I know that I'll work until the last day of my life, because when I can no longer handle this work rhythm we'll be slaughtered, and the health system will use our pieces.

My uncle realized, before I did, my true nature and calling.

This post has a sequel at this address.

https://bdsmmaledrawings.blogspot.com/2025/12/my-uncles-bitch-part-2.html

When I was a teenager, my uncle recognized the masochistic faggot that I was and took me to his house. My parents and siblings were relieved, and I never had contact with them again. 

My super handsome uncle put me in a chastity cage and enslaved me, using me as his maid and slut. He put a collar on me, gave me some old, dirty bags to wear, and made me do all the housework. I cleaned, tidied, washed, and ironed clothes, cooked, and kept the kitchen in order.

Many times I would spend the whole day alone working like a slave, without a break, and when he came home, he would beat me, spit on me and slap me in the face and fuck me like a bitch.

I could run away and leave but never tried to escape; I couldn't understand why. The years passed, and I got used to it; I didn't even think about leaving.

I knew he had prostituted me for money many times.

He would often call me into the room and hand me over to other men for money. Some would come back many times, others I never saw again. When I entered the room, they continued talking as if I wasn't there, my uncle telling the guy that he could do whatever he wanted for me. The guys came to do sinful, brutal, and dirty things to my uncle's slut, me.

Some whipped me, others tortured me with pliers and lit cigars. Most of them fucked me or shoved their dicks deep down my throat until I was out of breath and almost passed out.

A cousin would sometimes help my uncle hold me in whatever position the client wanted to ensure his enjoyment. Not that I tried to escape or avoid the torture, but sometimes I couldn't bear the pain and panic, and they would hold me down or tie me up so the client could use me however he wanted.

This one brought a dildo so big and thick that I didn't believe it could fit in my ass without tearing it!

He took off my clothes, made me get on all fours, and shoved the huge thing up my ass while I whimpered and cried in pain. They shoved that monster up my ass many times until I came on the living room floor.

For a few days, my uncle made me work naked with that monster stuck in my anus. Working with that thing was very uncomfortable and painful. Sometimes, during the chores, I cried in pain, but cum dripped from my dick and smeared it on my thighs all day long.

With that monster in my ass, he couldn't fuck me when he got home at night, so he would beat me brutally with his leather belt until I came and make me suck him until he filled my mouth with cum every night. I think we both enjoyed this daily routine the most.

I was indeed the fucking bitch my uncle said I was.

Three Years a Slave: Making him suffer alone while he waits. Part Seventeen.

 

As the months went by, my Owners began to lose interest in the Pig, and I started experimenting with new ways of making him suffer.

Since I was the only one who went to the shed to feed him and check on him, I began to feel as if he was mine alone and to discover that I also felt the sadistic pleasure of watching him suffer.

The life of a shitty slave faggot is not only work, tasks, rape, and torture; it is, above all, waiting, suffering, bored and silent for the moment someone decides to use you. Being just a thing that waits to be used.

So I started to tie the Pig in positions where he could stay for many hours, even days, without me doing or having any work with him.

I hung him from the high beam of the structure by the gag, like a fish hanging by its mouth. I ensured he could reach the ground with the tips of his feet, with discomfort and difficulty.

He couldn't sleep in that position; hanging there without sleeping for many hours, whole days began to destroy him.

I only let him go when it was time to feed him, once a day, for a little over half an hour. During that time, he would fall to his knees on the floor and eat the food from the bucket and drink the water from the bowl, still with his hands tied behind his back and his ankles restrained by the irons. He ate desperately and greedily because he was exhausted, hungry, and trembling with pain and cramps. If the tortures had not managed to break the perverted masochist, the long hours of solitary immobilization in the closed shed were working very well! I loved to see him crying, moaning, and trembling in deep sadness and despair.

While he was still eating, I would grab the gag to cover his mouth, and he would start begging, in desperation, crying with his mouth buried in the bucket of food.

- For the love of God, I'm hungry and tired. Don't hang me up again; leave me on the floor for a while. I can't stand being hung up like this.

I wouldn't answer; I would finish his feeding, rest, and hang him up again.

Three Years of Slavery: Establishing a Routine. Part Sixteen.

From now on, I, Toy, will be the one narrating what happened to this masochistic and perverted pig. He can no longer talk about what he feels or goes through; he is in no condition to say anything.

Our Master has put me in charge of taking care of this piece of shit. In addition to taking care of the house, washing clothes, cooking, tidying up, and cleaning everything, I still have to take care of the Pig, who is chained and locked in the storage room at the back of the yard. I confess that what could be a burden for me is the most fun part of the day.

When our owners want to see how the Pig is doing, I set up chairs and bring them drinks so they can sit in the yard. During these visits, I tie the disgusting faggot up in various and painful ways to torture and whip him. Sometimes, they are the ones who whip him violently and brutally. But beating him hard and fast is tiring, even for my young Master. So most of the time, after they get tired and the Pig's body is already injured and bleeding a lot, they order me to take over the task and make me whip him for hours without rest for me or the animal.

When I get discouraged and tired, they protest and order me not to lose the rhythm or violence of the blows. Many times, I continue even after the Pig has passed out. What surprises me the most is that the animal moans, cries, and goes crazy with so much pain but often ejaculates with so much excitement and pleasure in being so brutally whipped.

To me, it seems that neither I nor my owners feel as much pleasure as this shitty faggot.

I finally arrived at the place I always dreamed of.

I finally arrived at the place I always dreamed of.

For as long as I can remember, I have always been a piece of shit born in a pigsty.

I was born into a family of poor, working-class people in the city's suburbs. A family where violence, alcohol and drug addiction and religion make a perverse mix of moralism and debauchery. I saw my father fuck my cousin, my mother gets fucked by a neighbor, and an aunt makes a living from prostitution. I tried very hard to be the worst of the worst.

I never wanted to be anything other than that; I was a shitty, lazy, and stupid student. At school, I sucked the dicks of all my classmates; I was fucked by them and by the cleaning staff and the janitors. When they beat me or humiliated me, I got a hard-on, and I came while moaning like a happy bitch.

I was the dumbest of my many brothers; no one ever thought I was worth the food I ate, nor did I see any quality in myself. I don't remember if it was me or them who first realized I was a faggot bitch, but the whole family knew I liked to suck and be fucked, and they liked to use my talents! My brothers fucked me, I sucked my cousins' and uncles' cocks, and more than once, my father pissed in my mouth while I masturbated. 

My religious and devoted mother took me to church and handed me over to the pastor to spend the weekends with him, with him fucking me and beating me all the time. Later, I found out that I was given over in place of the tithe she owed to the pastor. I couldn't complain; the pastor had the most enormous cock that fucked me and beat me so hard and skillfully that I came when my breasts were spanked.

I was the shame and the problem of the family. At school and home, I was treated with contempt and anger; everyone knew I was worthless.

In the jobs I've had, I've been fired for being stupid, for the mistakes I made, and for being caught sucking dick in the locker room.

I'm chubby, pot-bellied, and very hairy. I've never even been handsome.

A few months ago, a cousin found a website and suggested that the family sell me online—a great solution for everyone. My parents were thrilled, and so was I.

They quickly weighed me, measured me, photographed me, and did the required health exams. To my and everyone else's surprise, I didn't have any STDs, even after a life of irresponsible follies!

The sale was quick and successful. I don't even know how much they paid, but my uncles seemed surprised that someone would want to buy a piece of shit like me and that it could be worth so much.

A van came by my house to pick me up, and now I'm here, tied up and naked in a dark warehouse, waiting to be delivered to my Owner.

I am 22 years old today, and from now on, I will be just a body, a collection of furry flesh and bones, ready for them to do whatever they want with me. My stomach is spinning with excitement, anxiety, and lust. I don't care if I get fucked, tortured, or just plain slaughtered; this is where I have always dreamed of being, in this place and role!

Three years of slavery: the first months. Part Fifteen.

They didn't release me from the chains in the first few weeks, not even once. I would hear them talking to each other about how I should get used to being part of the warehouse's playthings.

Luckily, the sun would shine in that garage in the late afternoon.

Toy had to provide for my subsistence; it was one of his daily tasks. Sometimes, he would put water and food in the dog bowls, and I would eat on all fours, with my feet and collar still tied with chains. Sometimes, I was chained up so that he had to shove the food in my mouth.

I would piss and shit as I could, dirtying my legs and the floor like a filthy animal. Toy would wash the floor and my body with brooms and soap.

When my Owner and his boyfriend came to the garage, it was to whip and torture me. In this first stage, they came three or four times a week, sometimes for short, violent beatings, as if they were angry about something and wanted to release the tension in my back. They were nervous, violent, and very painful whippings. Sometimes, both came calmly and slowly and spent hours whipping me and talking about any subject, their work, sports, or travel plans. They whipped me while they smoked and drank, without rushing, varying the types of whips and having fun showing how they could hit the softest parts. 

Some Sundays, they stayed all afternoon, until sunset, whipping me. There were so many lashes that I passed out several times, and in the end, my entire body was covered in wounds and blood dripping. After these worse beatings, they immobilized me in very uncomfortable and stressful positions so that Toy could apply the medicines, disinfectants, and healing agents. And they left me like that for a day or two, suffering and healing my wounds. 

Sometimes, Toy had to clean the dried sperm off my legs.

Three years of slavery: starting the routine. Part fourteen.

After the structure was built and the rings were placed piercing my nipples, dick, and ears, I was firmly chained with my arms up and standing upright.

They didn't want to release my chains in any way; I understood that I was now part of the structure, and soon, I had to learn to sleep and eat while chained, which was not easy.

I was no longer the slave who cared for the house or them; for household chores, they had Toy. It was Toy who took care of them and me.

He came to the shed for two days to treat the ring wounds, applying sterilizing and anti-inflammatory ointments. My skin has always healed very well; the wounds were already healed within two days.

Toy fed me by putting large spoons of dog food in my mouth, he gave me water, and he washed me with the nozzle and the broom as a mop, cleaning the urine and shit that ran down my legs.

Being chained there was already a terrible torture for the arms, wrists, and legs. My whole body ached with fatigue and cramps from having to stand in chains for so many hours.

However, on the third day, locked there, sweaty and tired, the door opened early in the morning, and Toy held a long leather whip.

Without saying anything, he gave the first lash in my back and then another and another. He spent the whole day whipping slowly, calmly, and with long intervals between each lash. He was learning how to handle the whip, practicing how to make the whip cross the air, crack, and hit every part of my body.

I confess that I found it humiliating to be whipped by another slave. I imagined that only my Owners could do that, but I was less than a slave like him; I was now really a pig chained to serve as a toy, even for a young and beautiful slave like the Toy.

He only stopped for a brief time to eat, but throughout the day, he whipped me with accurate blows and other clumsy and erratic ones. It hurt a lot when he hit the lash accurately, but the pain was even worse when he missed the blow.

At the beginning of the night, he stopped; I stayed there for about an hour or two, thinking that I would spend another night alone in the shed when my Owners entered, each carrying a whip in their hands.