The whipped boys do not complain, they and their families do not protest, they accept that the right of their masters is unlimited.

The Russian nobles were feudal lords with total power over all the families who inhabited their lands. During the long winters, when food was scarce, and hunger threatened the survival of all, they would stay in their comfortable and heated palaces. The noble families spent months of tedious parties and endless drunkenness without being able to leave during the snowstorms. One of the diversions was to bring the sons of the servants, or the orphaned boys, to torture and whip them for no reason or justification. Seeing a handsome boy being beaten, crying, and sobbing in pain, hearing their moans and supplications is delicious.

The whole noble family could have fun with the scene. Curiously observe the effect of each type of whip as each blow marks the boy's thin, delicate white skin.

The maid and servants help to tie and beat the young man without showing any mercy.

Some families even sent their most vigorous and robust children to their masters' dacha in exchange for food or even to have one less mouth to feed. The poverty was so great that the boys were often left on the porches of the dachas naked so they could bring their clothes back to their homes for the other children to wear.

The boys chosen to entertain the parties do not complain. 

Their families do not protest; they accept that the rights of their masters are unlimited.

I can not understand or deny that I get horny and hard when he walks into the cell.

I don't know why I was arrested or how long I've been in this cell.

I was returning to my house when the police car appeared on the street next to me.

He brought me here, took off all my clothes, and tied me up so that I couldn't protect myself, stand up, or see my hands.

I eat what he throws on the cell floor for me to eat. I drink all the urine and semen from his cock.

I don't understand why he spank me so hard and cruelly.

Two or three times a day, he beat me until I almost passed out and raped me.

It's not an interrogation; He doesn't ask any questions; he curses me, kicks me, and laughs at my crying.

My back hurts a lot; I feel hungry, cold, pain in my wrists and butt. But I can't understand or deny that I get horny and cum when he enters the cell.

The cell floor is full of piss, tears, sweat, blood, and cum, everything I spill.

The prisoners of the GULAGS sold as slaves.

Prisoners of the Revolutionary Government were transported to Siberia by trains in large numbers, thousands of men sent to serve long sentences. 

The bureaucrats and judges' expectation was that most of them would never come back. Many would die in the labor camps, others from hunger and torture. Others would die trying to escape, fleeing through the fields and galvanized and unpopulated forests. 

For all this there was no problem if a few hundred of them were simply sold by the soldiers to the farmers or to the nomadic peoples of Siberia. The younger, stronger, healthier prisoners were simply marketed, obviously naked, because the clothes on those polar lands were more valuable and necessary than their users.

Some were used as slaves on farms or to pull carts to the point of exhaustion and death. Once dead, or even dying, their bodies were often given as food to dogs.

The heretic being whipped naked by the inquisitor.

The damned heretic was hanging for hours by a rope tied to his wrists, swinging in the air as if he were flying. When the movement slowed, the whipping made it roll again like a pendulum spinning around itself. The long strips of the whip wound the unfortunate man's body and were drawn with malice, making him roll swiftly.

The whirls and the swing made the blood, the saliva, the urine, and the sweat sneeze through the chamber.

The monumental and perfect, torture chamber.

The torture chamber was monumental and perfect; it had a very high ceiling and was comprehensive. 

They could hang the accused for a long time, and whip him with much calm and cruelty. 

The space was big enough to use all kinds of whips and scourge, the longest and heaviest with no problems. The victims sweated, bled, screamed, cried, urinated, and defecated out of fear and despair; the floor was always very wet and dirty. 

The acoustics were beautiful, the stone walls reverberating with the sound of the whips, the sound of the whiplash, and the screams and moans of the victims. Everything sounded very clear, loud, and strong. It was like a song for the whole tower to listen to. It was lovely to hear.

Good clinics for the castration of slaves.

When the animal does not behave well or becomes disobedient, many owners recommend castrate the imbecile. The problem is that often castration poorly executed can spoil the creature. With the lack of slaves and the prices of the pieces, we recommend sending to experienced veterinarians with modern and well equipped clinics.

The slave has been forgotten tied up in the cell.

The animal is old now. It has been working under the sun and whips for more than 40 years. Years ago, they cut off his tongue. It no longer sees well and does not have the same strength as before.

For not producing enough, he was condemned to another brutal beating with lashes, but it was locked in a cell for two days and tied up waiting for his execution. It is dying of hunger; his legs and arms hurt and tingle, for they are without blood circulation. It feels cramps and terrible back pain.

The animal is worth so little that they can forget him there for enough time so that he will simply die without anyone remembering him.

It's not worth a damn.

The slave cries and moans loudly, trying to get someone's attention. It prefers to die under the lashes or exhausted by heavy labor than die there of hunger, thirst, and gangrene simply because he has been forgotten and tied up in his cell.