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.

 

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 a Slave: Adjusting the Flesh to the Support. Part thirteen.

After my youngest Owner checked that the structure inside the shed was ready he began to adjust me to the new support.

I had fixed a whole series of iron rings in different positions on the wooden beams to allow for tying in different ways. I could have imagined they would do the same to me.

He tied me to one of the wooden pillars, gagged me so I wouldn't scream and started drilling me.

He used a very thick injection needle, the likes of which I had never seen before, and pierced my huge, grotesque nipples. Piercing the sensitive tits already hurt immensely, but it got even worse when he forced the needle to the sides to widen the hole.

After the tits, the boy pierced right in the middle of my ears; it wasn't in the lobe like they do with earrings; it was right in the middle of them. The holes painfully burst the ears' folds; I felt like they were being ripped apart.

I moaned in despair, I cried profusely, but he continued painfully opening the holes for a long time until he was able to pass through them the steel rings, four-inch rings, at least a quarter of an inch thick.

After he placed the rings, he used a blowtorch to weld them closed permanently.

I had already almost passed out from the painful process and still felt my nipples pulsing extremely painfully when he grabbed my dick.

I struggled in despair, and for the first time, I could test how solid the structure I had built was. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I tried to struggle, the structure didn't even shake. He was able to firmly and calmly hold my immense, thick cock, pierce it and make the same cruel and painful enlargement of the hole to install the steel ring on it.

I spent the night tied to the post and covered in sweat, tears, and blood that oozed abundantly from my open wounds. The steel rings seemed to weigh many kilos! My tits and dick hurt terribly and every hour, my Owner or Toy came to rotate the rings so that they wouldn't stick during the healing process. This process of turning the rings on the wounds hurt so much that I became desperate and shook in panic.

I was tied like that for two days, and I understood that that wooden structure and I were now definitively linked. Me and the wooden beams were now the same thing.

Three Years a Slave: feeling horny building my dungeon. Part eleven.

The day after my arrival, my owner decided I would be kept in a material deposit at the bottom of the house's parcel. It was nothing more than a cramped, windowless, stuffy shed as it was kept away from the home they never wanted to keep me or their new slave there. Their slaves had to stay in the house to be able to serve them and be used whenever they wanted.

The idea of putting me in the shed reinforced the proposal that I would just be a slave for torture and abuse, kept in captivity, always chained.

That's why they bought thick wooden lintels, measuring twelve by twelve centimeters, and ordered me to assemble a structure inside the warehouse, with rings and straps to tie the ropes and chains that would bind me.

Toy helped me a little, but I was the one who sawed, drilled, screwed, and fixed each piece of my cell. In a few days, I carefully assembled the beams that would hang me to be tortured and whipped. My owner followed the work carefully, ensuring the measurements were respected and the structure was rigid and stable.

When Toy and I were working alone, he said - "Pig, you're crazy! You're making your gallows!"

I confess that I worked hard and passionately; I was in a hurry to feel chained to that structure.

I was so horny and happy to go back to work naked and feel like a fucking animal again.

Three Years a Slave: Returning to the Dungeon, meeting Toy. Part ten.

The wealthy couple took me back and ordered their new slave to help me get settled. When we were both alone, the new slave introduced himself.

─ Pig, I'm their Toy, you can call me Toy; that's what they call me, and my previous name doesn't matter anymore.

─ They called me Pig.

─ I know; I think I saw all the videos they filmed of you being tortured.

─ Did they show you?

─ No, but I had to suck their dicks the many times they watched it. They masturbated and got excited watching the videos in which you cried and howled in pain and despair. They really love to see you suffering a lot. I signed a contract with them for three years like you did. But in my agreement with them, I didn't allow them to do the same barbaric things they did to you.

─ Do they watch videos of my torture?

─ Pig, they love watching and re-watching these videos. They love seeing you suffering in despair, so they must be happy to have you back!

I didn't know whether to be happy or scared by this information. Toy added:

─ They were often frustrated with me for not being able to torture myself. My contract only allows them to lock my dick and use my holes mercilessly. Even so, they bite me hard and slap me on the butt and some very violent slaps on the face. I'm thrilled to have you back! I feel safer with them being able to exercise their sadism on you!

─ I'm going to be massacred! I'm fucked!

─ Surely! Sorry for the question, but why did you come back? Are you crazy?

─ I think I'm crazy; I can't deny it. I have always been gay, submissive, and masochistic. But what happened is that for three years, they made me feel like a shit worm; they tortured me as if I were worthless shit, and they despised and tortured me with such cruelty and violence as if I were worth absolutely nothing. They did this so many times that I agreed that this is who I am, what I am, that this is my place and role in the world. I can no longer present myself to someone as a human being; I no longer feel like a human being; I feel like an impostor, pretending to be something I'm not.

─ Dude, look, I'm the same age as you; at most, I'm as old as you were when you came here three years ago, but today you look much older than me. You look like a monster, with that pig nose and those grotesque, deformed tits and balls. You won't last much longer being tortured like you will be.

─ It's true, Toy; I know that even worse because they won't have to respect any limits this time. I know that it will be my end.

─ Well, anyway, welcome, Pig, I'm glad you're back! We won't be friends, but I'll try to make you last as long as possible! I don't want you to disappear or die. It will be better and safer for me if they have you around to torture.

Three years of slavery: begging for return. Part nine.

I asked to meet the man who was my Owner for three years to ask him to accept me again as his slave; the agent made an appointment for the following week. I waited anxiously and hopefully for the reunion.

When we met in the room that was my home for three years, I sat on the carpet and took off my shirt. I'm not too fond of it and feel embarrassed sitting on chairs or being dressed in front of them.

They did not seem happy to meet me again, and I soon saw that they had a new slave, young and handsome, with a similar type to what I was at the beginning of my slavery. He wore a cage, collars, and wrist restraints like the ones I wore when I was his.

I also didn't feel comfortable talking to them. For years, I just listened and obeyed, never saying anything, and wasn't allowed to speak.

The agent spoke for me - The submissive fagot doesn't get used to being free again. He wants to be your slave again. Will you take him back?

My Owner looked at me with disdain and replied - This slutty faggot has become very ugly with the changes we made to him; with these years of captivity, his skin has faded, his tits have become grotesque, his ass has gotten so vast that he can't even hold any shit, he shits without control, and his deformed and swollen cock is bizarre. We have no interest in having it here at home again.

His Boy added - Now we have a new and beautiful slave. We have no interest in keeping this creepy, ugly animal with us.

The agent insisted - But I also don't see what he could be out of here. He became a freak addicted to pain, humiliation, and sex. If we don't get him somewhere within a few months, he will live on the street and get involved in trouble with the police. Which could cause problems even for us. He's not a human being anymore, he's just a horrible, crazy faggot.

I closed my eyes and managed to speak, with shame and difficulty - I accept what you want, do with me what you want, just don't let me free, Please, I beg you! 

The agent added - This time, he comes without any restrictions or limits; you can do with him whatever you want, without mercy or limits.

The Owner's Boy smiled and said to him: - We agreed that we wouldn't do the same things to the new slave that we did to this old one, that we wouldn't spoil the new one as we did to this old pig. You asked me not to whip him to the point of ruining his skin like I did to this old fag. We could keep him just to torture him and end the damage we've already done. You know how much you and I enjoy seeing the faggot suffering and crying desperately. We could leave the new slave as our beautiful sex toy and as our maid and keep this disgusting pig just to torture and hurt. What do you think?

The Owner, thoughtfully, replied - But where would we keep this nasty animal? Here at home? Or on our farm?

The Boy replied – Our house is big. We have a lot of space. Let this bag of shit stay here, and I guarantee we will have a lot of fun making it moan desperately in pain.

The Owner smiled at his Boy - You are very sadistic, but I'm already horny imagining you having fun with this masochistic pig! He looked directly at me and said - Dumb pig, if you come, we won't accept any of the limits we had before; we can break, cut, burn, and do the greatest cruelties to you. Is this what you want?

I was shaking with fear, lust, and despair. I knew they were capable of making me pass out from the pain, but I wanted nothing more than to be their fucking faggot again.

I put my face on the ground, with my eyes full of tears, and begged - Do whatever you want with me, but take me back, chain me again! I beg!

The agent smiled and said - Don't worry, I can disappear with all his documents and things. This shit no longer exists neither for society nor the government. You can lock it wherever you want and do whatever you want with it. It simply doesn't exist anymore, nor has it ever existed.

I removed my clothes and knelt before them, my heart bursting with happiness.

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.

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!

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.

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: 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

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