My brother knows what a nasty slut I am.

 My brother knows the slutty bitch I am. When we're camping with his friends, I hardly eat or drink a thing; I have to swallow so much of their cum and piss that I'm never really hungry. None of them ever jerk themselves off; I'm the one who has to suck every cock that gets hard at the campsite. The only cum I don't drink is what goes straight into my ass or what they spill while jerking off as I'm being tortured.

Sometimes he gets distracted talking or drinking beer with some of his friends and doesn't even notice the atrocities and barbaric acts the others are committing against me. I can't say he doesn't torture me cruelly himself, but when he's the one using me—or when he's watching what they're doing to me—I feel safer. After all, I'm his bitch; he won't let them do anything I couldn't handle, or anything that would leave me crippled.

I had been hanging by my wrists for ages, getting violently whipped across my back and chest—just the way I like it—and the guy whipping me kept saying, "You piece of shit, if you cum, I'll cut your cock off."

When I came for the second time, the guy tied my hard cock and balls up tight and went to his tent to get some scissors, saying, "I warned you, slut—I'm gonna cut your junk off!"

Suddenly, I felt dizzy; the world around me went dark and started spinning. I froze; I couldn't moan, think, or say a word.

That's when my brother appeared, picked up the whip from the ground, and said to his friend, "Honey, feel free to whip that cock and those balls until they burst, but don't cut them off. I like seeing this pig's cock hard. His cock shows just how much it loves the pain!"

In that moment, I realized just how well he knew and loved me. When the guy started whipping my cock, I came two more times.

My brother's friends thought they were being creative when it came to cruelty.

My brother's friends had a lot of drinking and little conversation at the annual camps. They told the same jokes and stories every year and played the same pranks and dirty tricks on each other.

Even the cruel things they did to me were the same. Rapes, beatings with whips, belts and sticks, forcing me to drink urine and semen, violent slaps to my face, kicks and punches all over my body. Even when one of them seemed to have a new idea, they repeated the same "new ideas" from previous years.

They put me on anthills to see if the ants would bite my penis and testicles, if they would enter my orifices, enter and bite my anus and penis. And I knew they really did enter and bite, because in previous years they had already left my penis severely injured with their bites.

They had new ideas for burning me with cigarettes, cigars, or with the tips of barbecue skewers pulled directly from the embers on my nipples and the glans of my penis.

I knew that my screams and moans wouldn't be heard by anyone who cared or worried about me; not even my brother showed any restraint or mercy. On the contrary, he was one of those who most encouraged the brutal violence.

When the camp ended, I would go home and straight to the doctor to treat the most serious injuries. But I knew that when my brother called me the following year, I would be hoping he would invite me again!

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!!

No one imagined how perverted he was.

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