The owner expected a reasonable price for his robust and healthy animal.

When the owner put the muscular beast up for sale in the morning, he expected it to get a reasonable price. After all, even though it is over 30 years old, it is still relatively complete, solid, and healthy.

However, the hours passed, the offers did not come, and the owner lowered his expectations and values. A large, used brute animal ends up not being highly valued.

The seller showed it off to buyers masturbated a few times to show it was healthy and still potent but failed to make the sale.

By nightfall, with the fair almost over, the owner was ready to accept any offer for his animal. When a buyer of a slaughterhouse advised: castrate the animal and make it fat, then you can sell it by weight to slaughterhouses like mine.

The animal, which had endured silently and steadfastly all day, began to moan and cry like a frightened child, realizing that its end was near.

The next day the vet cut out its balls; in three weeks, already weighing another thirty kilos, it was taken to the slaughter.

I'm going through the initiation rite to become the bitch to all the prison guards.

On my first day as a prisoner, the guards beat me with clubs and whips, great cruelty, and violence as soon as I arrived at the prison. Then they raped me several times, taking turns on my ass! Several of them pissed inside my mouth.

After hours of brutal treatment, I ended up passing out.

When I woke up, I was here in this hole chained in this uncomfortable way. After a few days here, I realized that sewage passes through this chamber when they use the cops' restrooms. Even the water from the showers passes through here, and when it does, this place floods until it covers my face and makes all sorts of rubbish float around. I choke and swallow all kinds of dirt. The smell of this place is unbearable!

One of the older prisoners explains that I am undergoing the initiation rite. All this violence and humiliation is to break down all my resistance, turn me into a scared fag, and turn me into a submissive, obedient bitch.

I believe that soon they will take me out of here, wash me, and make me like the bitch who fucks herself daily and gives blowjobs to all the guards in prison. It's what I want most right now.

The will of the animal sings in the hands of the coachman!

 I fondly remember being 19 years old and a young homo sapiens beast jockey. The sport was very popular, and racing animals were not yet genetically selected and improved. Over time, bigger and stronger animals were created by genetic improvement and physical corrections. In those days, we just could choose from among the recently enslaved animals those that were of the physical size to withstand the races.

That's how the human beast 4T8B was delivered to me. He only lasted three seasons, raced for three years, and we even won several races. But soon, its joints began to deteriorate, and the animal started to have pain in its knees, hips, and spine from running around supporting a man with nearly 50 kilos on its back.

The more it was in pain, the more violently I had to whip him to keep the same performance. Before the race, we used morphine to reduce its pain; after the race, if his performance had been disappointing, we punished him with hot irons and whips.

After three seasons, the coach soon realized that we would no longer get the same performance from the animal. The animal was physically ruined; from the wear and tear of carrying me, it was useless for racing.

The race manager and the coach used to slaughter the ruined beasts in front of the others, to set an example and encourage the younger ones to do their best. I was the one who convinced them to sell the animal for other uses. I had grown fond of the animal, I liked to see it cry in pain, and I wanted to hear its groans of suffering.

Twenty years after its sale, I was crossing a street near the jockey club when I saw an old garbage cart pull by an old, ugly, stinking beast of burden.

When the filthy animal passed close to us, I looked into its eyes, and I could recognize my old beast! The animal must have been over fifty years old; it was all deformed from years of hard work, its hide was thick and full of wounds, scars, and ticks.

I could notice that youth's pains were immeasurably worse, and it nonstop cried and sweated and groaned as it struggled to pull the heavy cart. The coachman whipped with constant rhythm and violence to make the broked older beast keep up the slow, suffering step of the heavy wagon.

I'd been retired for five years, and this lazy slut wouldn't last a few more months before It dies under the lash or slaughtered for dismantling and use for flesh and bones.

In my heart, I was happy to see it like this, imagining a long life of hard work, whipping, and pain is all these stupid beings deserve.

On the way, I waved politely to the coachman and commented, "This old lazy beast only works with whips! Hit it with cruelty it deserves!"

The friendly and young coachman returned my sympathy, saying, "This lazy shit is already on his last legs; I work harder than it; my arm is tired from whipping him to pull! I already told the manager that it's not worth it anymore, this is just for slaughter, but the owner's a cheapskate; he'll keep this fag on until it drops dead in the streets!"

At the farewell, I repeated an old saying among the jockeys: "the will of the animal sings in the hands of the coachman!"

For months, the family talked about how to prepare the roast to be like a piglet.

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My parents think I'm the family problem, but I'm the solution!

My parents and older brother soon realized that I was a slut fag and a pervert as soon as I hit puberty before I was even twelve years old. The impact of this discovery on a middle-class, Catholic, conservative family in a country town was tremendous.

I was a very libertine child; I was excited all the time, with my hard and pulsating cock, doing everything that gave me pleasure, shoving things up my ass, and masturbating. In my early teens, I acted like a sex addict, and I loved being naked and touching the parts and orifices that gave me pleasure all the time.

As much as they beat me, I challenged and continued excited, taking off all my clothes and teasing everyone. Not knowing what to do, the three of them hit me with a lot of violence and cruelty, but I admit, I liked it so much that I provoked, even more, to receive even more violent beatings.

I created so many problems with the teachers and classmates that they decided to pull me out of school. So soon, they decided that I shouldn't leave the house for anything, that the best solution was to hide me, they isolated their slut from everything and everyone.

On the rare occasions when they had visitors, I was locked in a storage room in the garage. Gradually I made the three of them do to me everything I wanted.

I became the domestic servant of the house.

I helped my mother with all the household chores, tidied the house, tended the garden, washed the clothes and dishes, cooked but naked all the time. Over time, I started massaging her back and legs until the day I showed her what I could do with my tongue. She felt pleasures she didn't know, felt orgasms for the first time, and she loved it.

She punishes me the least, I do all my chores right, but when I make a mistake, she uses the wooden spoon and hits my cock with precision and force right on the head. It turns me on so much that I sometimes make mistakes on purpose so that she can "punish" my cock till I come.

My father came home every day pissed off. His routine was to drag me to the garage and give me a violent belt beating until he vented all his anger and bad mood. I loved the spanking; every strapped on my back, thighs, and ass turned me on. One day after the beating, while he pissed all over my sore and scarred body, I put his cock in my mouth and sucked him until he came. He loved it; this became our routine, beatings, and blowjobs every day. I love this deal.

My older brother was the first guy that fuck me. He knew how to treat me the way I like to be treated, like a slut bitch. He slaps me in the face, spits and pisses into my mouth, bites and burns my nipples with cigarettes, scratches, and kicks humiliatingly to make me even more aroused.

Sometimes, when my parents are away, my brother "takes me for a walk", puts me on a dog leash, throws me in the trunk of his car, and takes me to college sports parties and practices. His friends know he has a bitch; he likes it when he humiliates me and uses it in public. He rents and lends me making me suck and fucked by all his friends and colleagues.

Each of the three uses me as they wishes, pretending not to know what the others do or what I do with others. I can say that I made a pact with each to live the life I always wanted.

They think I'm the family problem, but I'm the solution!