I planned everything to get here; I wanted to fulfill my deepest dream.

 I planned everything to get here.

I advertised on the web and looked for sadistic tough guys who would beat and rape someone up for money. I checked the experience that each one had, and I selected the most experienced and cruel ones. 

I negotiated the prices, the schedules, and the availability of each. I chose a very isolated place, a vacant lot that I knew well, on the city's outskirts. I scheduled the Uber rides to pick up each of them and take them to the place on time.

I also took an Uber; I arrived twenty minutes earlier with no money, no cellphone, and no documents, wearing only my T-shirt, pants, and very old sneakers. I entered the lot, undressed completely, put on the dog collar with the chain, and waited for the guests.

I paid them to beat, humiliate and fuck me all they wanted. I agreed they could do all the perversities they wanted to me without limits, mercy, or regrets—no safe word. I scheduled the instant transfer by bank, paying each of them the agreed amounts at midnight that same day.

Everything was previously agreed with me in detail, the instruments of torture each one would take and what and how each would torture me. But I clarified that they could do whatever they wanted at the time, with freedom, creativity, and lust.

I masturbated dozens of times as I treated each of them that night of abuse and torture. That was my biggest, oldest, most intense desire, my biggest sexual fantasy.

Now, here naked, on all fours, while I hear each one of them coming, my cock pulsates and spills a little more cum; I feel terrible butterflies in my stomach, an immense fear for all the pain I will have to face and endure.

Some excitedly show the others the whips, ropes, and pliers they brought. I imagine all the tortures I will suffer; I know I will be desperate, panicked, and hurt through the long night. But, I don't have the slightest regret or doubt that I really wanted to be here now in this place.

After they had fun and were fully satisfied, they could walk away and leave me there, naked and tied up. A friend of mine would call an ambulance to pick me up the following day.

My little brother, my pet! Fourth part.

At the end of the year, I was finally approved to study veterinary in a city in the country's interior. The town was small, and the university was its main social and economic activity.

My parents supported me during the course, and I moved to a house rented only by veterinary students. There I made new friends. I had to take my slut pet with me, and soon, all my housemates loved having a naked fag to take care of the house and all our needs. The bitch took over all the chores of tidying up all the bedrooms, cooking chores, and washing all the clothes. My colleagues soon learned that having this naked, leashed fagot working for us was a godsend!

With my colleagues, he perfected his blowjobs; he learned to perfectly suck the cocks of all of them and our guests.

Everyone also enjoyed fucking and pissing in his mouth.

But they enjoyed the most testing his pleasure and hard-on for pain. They enjoyed torturing and burning him as they milked him repeatedly until his cock was raw from being squeezed and twisted to the last drop of cum.

The agreement between us was that "bitches don't talk" my brother did all the chores, obeyed all orders, and endured all humiliation and torture without ever speaking a word. The most he emitted were moans of pleasure when the pain or pleasure was too great.

For us, he was the perfect slave!

For him, it was the life he had always dreamed of!

My little brother, my pet! Third part.

My older brother Jack left home when he went to college to study law; he wanted to be a lawyer. That way, the house was quieter, and I continued using my pet as a slave the whole time. Our hormones were raging then, but I still didn't use my brother sexually. I just enjoyed humiliating and exploiting him, sometimes, I felt pleasure in beating him, but I still wasn't fully aware of the horniness that the beatings gave both to him and me.

When I was finishing school and about to start college, we were at home one night, which changed everything. My mother was clearing the table after dinner, and my father was smoking a vast, fragrant Havana on the sofa in the living room. He called me, and my pet and spoke.

−        My dear son, you must wonder why your mother and I treated your younger brother with such contempt, no?

−        No, dad, in fact, I never understood why he is treated with such indifference and contempt by you.

−        Maybe you didn't notice it at first, but since he was a lot younger, we've already noticed that he's not a boy like you and Jack. Your younger brother was born a slutty bitch. This kind of fag is not like other young people; it's not even human; it is, as he always tried to show you, just a bitch.

While talking, my father pulled my pet close and hugged him close to his body.

−        Today, this fag turns sixteen; at this age, by law, he can be fucked by anyone who is practically the same age as him, like you and your friends. You've known for years that he chose you, haven't you? That the happiness of this kind of animal is to have an Owner who treats him the way he needs to be treated.

I was surprised and very excited by my dad's speech and how he hugged my brother.

With one arm, he hugged my pet's neck, and with his right hand, he began to stick his fingers in the ass painfully, forcing the opening of the anus. Immediately his penis grew and became hard!

−        My son, that type of bitch wants to have her ass rolled up and stretched in every way, with violence and pain.

With the arm that held the cigar, my father was suffocating the pet; with the other hand, it looked like he had already stuck three fingers up the bitch's ass.

I had my cock hard too, and I could see that the three of us were very excited.

So, I was shocked when my father took a significant drag on the cigar, lighting the fire at its end, and then brought the lit cigar close to the pet's chest causing burns on it.

At that time, the youngest began to cry, moan and struggle. My father held him tightly and whispered for me to hear too.

−        Bitch, let's show your Owner how much you like pain, stop pretending you don't like pain!

Very calmly and slowly, he interspersed the approach of the lit ember to the nipples with drags to keep the flame burning.

He carefully and cruelly made several burns through the body that sweated, trembled, and moaned with pain and excitement. When I noticed the cock was already throbbing and spilling a lot of cum, showing the pleasure of my pet.

−        Son, when you go to college, take that bitch with you. He's not our son; he's not even your brother; he's just a piece of shit, which you can use as you, please. Just understand that he doesn't have dignity or value and doesn't deserve pity or respect. Keep him tied up, naked, and brutally used and beaten. That way, he will be happy and yours for as long as you want. Did you understand?

My pants were soaked with cum, my dad's too, and the rug had a lake of sperm.

Continued on: https://bdsmmaledrawings.blogspot.com/2023/02/my-little-brother-my-pet-fourth-part-of.html 

My little brother, my pet! Second part.

Our relationship was naive, childish, and without malice at the beginning of our childhood. I liked treating him like my little dog, and he wanted to wear a leash, walk on all fours, and be my dog. What surprised everyone from the start was that, unlike the other kids, our playtime never ended; he was my pet the whole time.

In part, my little pet and I could keep up our "game" because my parents didn't care for the youngest; the entire family despised him.

When the teachers started complaining that he wouldn't take the dog collar off for anything, he dropped out of school, and nobody even noticed.

He practically never left the house. We kept him on a leash all the time and gave him chores around the house; he gradually took over making the beds, cleaning, and washing dishes as his chores.

When we went out, even on cold days, he walked around barefoot and on a leash and leash. People didn't seem to mind; I could see that my pet was thrilled with this situation, and the more I humiliated him, the more delighted he got.

We grew up this way without changing our relationship or routines, and everyone understood that this was precisely how we should act and be.

I remember I was about 14 years old, and he was 12 when I started taking off the little shorts he used to wear and keeping him completely naked most of the time. Before long, when we were at home, just the family, he was always naked, wearing only his dog collar and leash.

No one, not our older brother or our parents, even commented.

He never sat at the table to eat with the family because "he was a dog," so I would collect the food that was left on the plates and platters of our meals, put it in a dog food bowl, and make him eat from there, on all fours and naked, without using his hands; while the family chatted undisturbed.

At that time, I began to notice that his penis became hard when I humiliated him and treated him with greater violence or harshness. That's when I started to understand that he was a submissive faggot.

Continued on: https://bdsmmaledrawings.blogspot.com/2023/02/my-little-brother-my-pet-third-part-of.html