I have a role in this monastery, I am the sin and atonement of all the monks.

From the moment I was born, I was tormented by temptations and constantly struggled with sin and my evil nature. My older brothers, uncles, and cousins ​​sinned with me, and I led them into the worst sins of the flesh. My parents and uncles punished me a lot; they tried to discipline my body, but the more they punished me, the more I fell into the worst sins. 

My body was part of the problem; I was born with the sin of vanity, because I was handsome and very well endowed. From the moment I had my first erections, my penis dominated me and aroused envy and lust in those who saw it. When I was 16, my father took me to a monastery and asked them to accept me as a cloistered novice. He spoke to one of the monks, who was his cousin, who quickly explained to me that someone like me should be imprisoned for life, to try to avoid the impending hell. I was not consulted, nor would I have had any alternative or escape from the solution presented by my parents; However, I resignedly accepted it, believing it to be the best option. I was right; it was the best solution for everyone, including me.

I am not a monk, not even a novice, I am just a liturgical object, I am what they use to pay and atone for their sins, because I am tortured and flogged while they pray and ask for forgiveness for their sins. I am the penitent, the body that suffers the pain and must pay for the sins of all the brothers of the order. When one of them commits a more serious sin, the sinner has to wound my body with a red-hot iron and torture me brutally to atone for his guilt. Even under the worst tortures, my enormous cock remains stiff and throbbing, I ejaculate and cum many times.

They use my body entirely, I suck their cocks, I am fucked violently and with lust, and they love to masturbate me many times in a row and suck my cock with lust.

On a religious day, they burned my tongue and then, with it sore and painful, they forced me to suck the penises of all the monks, from the youngest to the oldest of the inmates.

I believe that my parents have no idea of ​​the horrors I suffer here in the monastery, nor would they believe how completely fulfilled and happy I am here, being the sinner and lust of all of them.

Nikita is also used as a gift for trading with nomadic tribes.

In addition to being the troop's whore, Nikita is also used as a diplomatic gift to other tribes and groups that appear on the borders of the Russian Empire. When a nomadic Mongolian, Arab or Persian tribe is encountered by border patrols, before the troop simply approaches and risks direct armed conflict, some horsemen approach the tribe, escorting the young man who walks naked alongside them.

As a white, blond boy with a very Russian physique, he is given as a gift to the foreigners. The fact that he is delivered naked and with a hard-on makes his usefulness clear.

Nikita docilely submits to the foreigners, gets fucked, gives blowjobs and accepts everything without question. This attitude creates the conditions for friendly dialogue between the Russian troops and the other nomadic tribes.

As a white, blond boy with a very Russian physique, he is given as a gift to the foreigners. The fact that he is delivered naked and with a hard-on makes his usefulness clear.

Then the Russian colonel comes to the tribe to talk to its leader. Often this conversation takes place while sharing drinks, tobacco and the bitch. There are long negotiation conversations, sometimes tense, sometimes friendly, and these different moods are resolved by using the troop's whore.

When the negotiators are tense, they unload on the guy's back, ripping his skin off. Sometimes they talk while fucking him, sometimes being sucked by him. Insults and difficulties are best resolved this way, often a plentiful table of food helps the negotiation, whores have always been present on these occasions - Nikita plays both roles.

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.

Throughout the long journey, Nikita is humiliated and trained to be the troop`s dog.

When Nikita was handed over to the soldiers, he wore only old pants and boots. A soldier covered him in the army's standard raincoat tent, a thick tissue with a hole for the head and a hood for long foot journeys. 

Nikita followed the troops for weeks, on the long journey on foot to the empire´s borders, being led by a leash like a stray dog, always with his hands tied and shirtless under his raincoat. 

Having his hands tied behind his back was part of the humiliation and training. He often shit and pissed in his pants. He ate only what was thrown on the ground so that he would eat like a disgusting dog, and on his knees, he often drank the piss that the soldiers made directly into his mouth. To make it easier for him to piss or shit, a creative soldier tied the string that held his pants at the base to his cock and scrotum, leaving his ass exposed. The soldiers did not hide their interest in the guy's body, pinching and touching it with enthusiasm and lust. Nikita also showed his dirty and slut nature, insinuating himself to the soldiers, showing off his hard cock, and shaking his ass. 

When the troops camped, the boy was tied to a post or tree and gang raped by all the men. All of them fucked the slut bitch and many of them beat him with belts and whips. Nikita did not scream in pain or beg for mercy, on the contrary, he moaned lewdly, horny, and provoked the group asking for new fucks, worse punishments, and offering blowjobs as a reward to everyone.

When the group was satisfied, exhausted, and went to sleep, the boy covered in piss, sweat, and cum, still tied to the post, willingly sucked all the cocks of the soldiers who wanted to clean their penises before sleeping.

Nikita slept all night tied to the post, filthy with dirt, and with a smile of pride and satisfaction.

The colonel found, in the small village, what he was looking for to accompany his troops on their mission to the border.

The Tsar's army was passing through the village, heading to lands farther from the country's borders to protect them from threats from bandits from neighboring countries. The families feared their older sons would be forcibly enlisted in the army.

When the troops arrived, the colonel went to the village church to talk to the local priest, who knew all the villagers best. A little later, the two left and went to the home of one of the families.

The poor family had eight children of varying ages. The parents were immediately frightened by the risk of losing the oldest, who worked in the fields during the day. The priest ordered the father to bring Nikita, the third, who was almost twenty years old. The parents were relieved that he was the one they were looking for. The colonel waited for the boy, escorted by a corporal from his troops, in the large open patio of ​​the village surrounded by many curious and apprehensive neighbors. 

When the father brought his son before the colonel, the priest quickly opened the boy's shirt and pulled down his pants, exposing his nakedness to the officer and everyone around. The boy tried to cover himself, but the father grabbed his arms, keeping his hands behind his back. The colonel addressed the priest. 

"Indeed, the boy has a beautiful physique and a beautiful cock and balls." 

To which the priest added, "I can assure you that he is a pervert, an incorrigible and insatiable lecher, capable of fulfilling the role you desire." 

The officer addressed Nikita's father and asked: "Would the family be pleased to receive a young mule in exchange for this pervert?" 

The father, smiling, replied: "A mule is much more useful for work in the fields than this incorrigible wanker. We are very grateful for your generous offer!" 

With a brief gesture from the colonel to the corporal, he approached and passed the rope he had, tying the boy's wrists behind his back and making a loop to use as a leash to pull the boy along. 

The mother asked if they wanted to take his shirt lying on the floor, and the corporal replied, "No, it won't wear shirts anymore. You can keep this one."

The colonel smiled when he noticed that Nikita's dick was getting hard. The priest gestured, familiarly holding the boy's beautiful dick, and said to the colonel.

"This pervert gets excited every time he gets naked; his dick reveals how much he likes to be exposed, handled, or even beaten. Ever since he was born, his mother noticed that this son was a deviant, an insatiable sexual animal."

"She brought him to me countless times. We punished him severely, kept him tied up, fasting, and penitent for days. I tied his dick tight to see if it would stop getting hard and cumming, but it seemed that the more we tried to contain his lust, the more the bastard got horny and enjoyed it. He is a big problem in this community; he has already insinuated himself and led almost all the boys and men who live here to sin. His cock and his holes have already condemned almost all the young people in the community to hell. Take this animal from hell away; we never want to see him again!"

The colonel smiled happily, rubbing his hands with great satisfaction.

"Don't worry, you'll never see this piece of shit again. It seems that it's exactly what I was looking for to cheer up all my troops in the vast and unpopulated borders."

The colonel and the corporal turned their backs on the family and the priest and walked steadily toward the troops waiting for them at the entrance to the village. They crossed the entire small community with the boy walking with difficulty, practically naked, with his pants still down at his ankles, with his hands tied behind his back, being pulled by the rope around his neck. What the two soldiers observed, smiling maliciously, was that with each step Nikita's cock was swinging like a mast, hard as a rock and dripping cum from the satisfaction of being taken like that.

Everyone in the village walked in the opposite direction, curious to see the beautiful mule happily hugged by the happy family, thanking the priest for helping them solve the problem.

The brutal and lascivious life of road slaves.

This is my first post using Grok, X's AI program. The images were produced there and I ended up editing some of them manually. Please, give your opinion and leave comments about the story and the images.

Some young men kicked out of their homes for being gay end up migrating to the US in search of work. There, as illegal immigrants, they end up working on the roads, being exploited as prostitutes or manual workers for truck drivers. Undocumented and illegals, they end up being accused of all kinds of crimes, including drug trafficking and robberies. In some American states, prostitution and sodomy are crimes. Pursued by the police, they end up cornered, in debt, enslaved, exploited, and prostituted by a perverse scheme organized by truck drivers, becoming slaves of the roads.

Transport companies, truck drivers, gas stations, and highway patrol officers form a structured alliance to exploit and maintain these invisible slaves.

At specific gas stations, they are traded and sold like cattle, to serve as sex bitches, helpers, cooks, or beasts of burden in loading and unloading cargo. They are kept chained and practically naked, with their bodies covered in bruises and wounds at all times, to prevent them from escaping. Part of the scheme's success depends on them being regularly humiliated, beaten, tortured, and raped without mercy, keeping them submissive and frightened.

Rape and sexual violence are a fundamental part of this scheme. Gay slaves have their stigma reinforced: "You are in this life because you are gay", "You deserve this brutal treatment", and "You are truly slutty bitches". Those who are not gay end up being raped so many times, given so many blowjobs, and having to fuck so many men that they no longer know how to say whether they do it for pleasure or out of obligation. They lose their own identity and natural sexual orientation. Brutal, promiscuous, collective, and humiliating sex makes them feel dirty and inferior and facilitates their subjugation.

Any man captured by the police, near the roads without clothes, without documents, and with his body bruised from beatings, is taken to the police stations to be brutally beaten, tortured, and raped so that they know that they cannot go to the police or try to report their inhumane condition. Some cruel police officers, to punish and scare those captured, cut off the little toe of their left foot to mark them forever as fugitives. Then, they are returned to their owners or sold to other truck drivers.

It's not just illegal immigrants who are put in this position and role. Faggots are a problem for many American families, even non-Latino families. Some of them are taken to the roads to work by uncles, relatives, or "friends" while they are still young, under the illusion that working on trucks that cross the country will earn them some money and opportunities to go to bigger cities. But they end up being deceived, exploited, in debt, and subjected to this condition of slavery over time. 

Some religious families feel relieved to lose contact with the perverted young people. There are reports of families and pastors who hand over these young men to transportation companies that belong to the church members. These "deliveries" are especially perverse because the pastors explain to the young men that they must help their families so, they start working already with large debts from the money they "would earn" that is advanced to the churches and their families. These debts quickly grow and the young faggots will never be able to pay them off or receive any money throughout their lives.

Some of them end up getting used to and accepting this life and even being happy as slaves of truck drivers. They live hidden as illegal cargo of the box trucks, or in containers. At the stops, they wash the trucks and the drivers' clothes, cook, and are used sexually by their owners. Some drivers are "straight" so at the bigger stops, they pimp their slaves to serve other truck drivers. 

They work their entire lives without documents, without receiving any pay, without being able to wear more than old shorts, and without being able to have their bodies free of wounds and welts, because these are the signs that keep them in the condition of slaves. The marked bodies are important signs that they cannot escape exploitation, so all truck drivers contribute to maintaining the wounds. It is common for those who, after fucking one of the slaves, make a mark by burning a cigarette or cigar on the animal's butt, back, or neck. Pliers, hot irons, cigarettes, whips, pocket knives, and all kinds of instruments are used to mark the body temporarily or permanently, reinforcing, recording, and perpetuating their condition as slaves of the roads.

Some of these roads`s slaves remain in this condition, passing from hand to hand, from one truck to another for many years, without receiving any payment or escaping this situation. Many suffer their entire lives, but some perverts even admit to their owners that this is the life they dreamed of.

He has no chance of escaping alive. I am too horny.

My servants and employees know what is going to happen now, they know me, they fear me and they have seen similar scenes happen before.

When I order one of my servants to be brought to this tree, he knows he will be brutally punished. One of the foremen accused this servant of stealing the missing sheep. I ordered the young man's clothes to be taken off, I like to see them naked, this one is still quite handsome and has a beautiful cock to make what is to come even more fun.

One of the foremen tied his wrists to a stick and put the gallows collar around his neck.

My cock is throbbing and erect under my coat, I am almost cumming from so much arousal.

The young man begs for my mercy, says he has nothing to do with the missing sheep, that he is innocent - as if that matters to me, as if this detail would stop my fun.

My favorite foreman is already impatiently holding the heaviest whip, with the hardest and roughest leather, anxious for me to tell him how many lashes the sentence will be.

I know that after 20 the boy will be so injured that he will be unable to walk for more than two weeks; after 50 he will probably faint and may die from the infections in the wounds.

But today I am very horny, I am going to sentence him to 100! I want the intervals between the lashes to be long, so that he can cry, moan and beg for my mercy, because I love to hear his screams and pleas, but he has no chance of escaping alive. I am too horny.

The long weekend with the four sadistic dominators was a dream.

I had finally found the dominator I had dreamed of. Paul was handsome, calm, mature, very sadistic, and experienced. He lived alone in a beautiful apartment, and we started with sporadic encounters lasting a few hours, scheduled through apps.

The routine was simple: I would undress as soon as I entered the apartment and obey all commands without question. He would test my submission and resistance. If he disapproved of me, each encounter could be the last. I would suck, get fucked, clean, cook, and be beaten without any hesitation.

So, sometimes, he would have friends over, and I would serve whoever he wanted. However, he wanted to prove my intentions and prove that I had no limits. 

On Friday, when I arrived, he had three friends over. He explained: We have a long weekend, and you will stay here with us until Wednesday, okay? I invited these friends over so we could abuse you together. You've already served one of them, and you know he's more cruel and sadistic. The other two brought whips and ropes; I believe they will also want to torture you brutally.

I didn't know the other two, but I had already noticed that Paul advertised me as his bitch on other gay BDSM sites. He was pimping me out, charging sadistic men who paid to fuck and torture me. I confess that I loved this idea and found it even more exciting.

I smiled and nodded. This man was indeed particularly sadistic; he loved to burn my nipples, cock, and balls with cigars and cigarettes. I loved his tortures, but I especially liked the way he fucked my throat, shoving his thick, hard cock inside until I was suffocating.

The weekend was brutal; the four of them used me, fucked me, and tortured me the whole time, taking turns without limits or rest.

The four of them were sadistic and domineering. I was whipped and tortured with brutality beyond any limits I had ever imagined. I could only endure it because I was tied up and gagged. 

I cried, moaned, fainted, and vomited several times. I fainted a few times. But I loved it all and came dozens of times. I did everything, obeyed all the orders, and endured it without complaining because I hope Paul calls me many more times.

The joy of selling our perverted and despicable youngest - the parents' view.

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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.

Three Years a Slave: Making him suffer alone while he waits. Part Seventeen.

 

As the months went by, my Owners began to lose interest in the Pig, and I started experimenting with new ways of making him suffer.

Since I was the only one who went to the shed to feed him and check on him, I began to feel as if he was mine alone and to discover that I also felt the sadistic pleasure of watching him suffer.

The life of a shitty slave faggot is not only work, tasks, rape, and torture; it is, above all, waiting, suffering, bored and silent for the moment someone decides to use you. Being just a thing that waits to be used.

So I started to tie the Pig in positions where he could stay for many hours, even days, without me doing or having any work with him.

I hung him from the high beam of the structure by the gag, like a fish hanging by its mouth. I ensured he could reach the ground with the tips of his feet, with discomfort and difficulty.

He couldn't sleep in that position; hanging there without sleeping for many hours, whole days began to destroy him.

I only let him go when it was time to feed him, once a day, for a little over half an hour. During that time, he would fall to his knees on the floor and eat the food from the bucket and drink the water from the bowl, still with his hands tied behind his back and his ankles restrained by the irons. He ate desperately and greedily because he was exhausted, hungry, and trembling with pain and cramps. If the tortures had not managed to break the perverted masochist, the long hours of solitary immobilization in the closed shed were working very well! I loved to see him crying, moaning, and trembling in deep sadness and despair.

While he was still eating, I would grab the gag to cover his mouth, and he would start begging, in desperation, crying with his mouth buried in the bucket of food.

- For the love of God, I'm hungry and tired. Don't hang me up again; leave me on the floor for a while. I can't stand being hung up like this.

I wouldn't answer; I would finish his feeding, rest, and hang him up again.

Three Years of Slavery: Establishing a Routine. Part Sixteen.

From now on, I, Toy, will be the one narrating what happened to this masochistic and perverted pig. He can no longer talk about what he feels or goes through; he is in no condition to say anything.

Our Master has put me in charge of taking care of this piece of shit. In addition to taking care of the house, washing clothes, cooking, tidying up, and cleaning everything, I still have to take care of the Pig, who is chained and locked in the storage room at the back of the yard. I confess that what could be a burden for me is the most fun part of the day.

When our owners want to see how the Pig is doing, I set up chairs and bring them drinks so they can sit in the yard. During these visits, I tie the disgusting faggot up in various and painful ways to torture and whip him. Sometimes, they are the ones who whip him violently and brutally. But beating him hard and fast is tiring, even for my young Master. So most of the time, after they get tired and the Pig's body is already injured and bleeding a lot, they order me to take over the task and make me whip him for hours without rest for me or the animal.

When I get discouraged and tired, they protest and order me not to lose the rhythm or violence of the blows. Many times, I continue even after the Pig has passed out. What surprises me the most is that the animal moans, cries, and goes crazy with so much pain but often ejaculates with so much excitement and pleasure in being so brutally whipped.

To me, it seems that neither I nor my owners feel as much pleasure as this shitty faggot.

Three years of slavery: the first months. Part Fifteen.

They didn't release me from the chains in the first few weeks, not even once. I would hear them talking to each other about how I should get used to being part of the warehouse's playthings.

Luckily, the sun would shine in that garage in the late afternoon.

Toy had to provide for my subsistence; it was one of his daily tasks. Sometimes, he would put water and food in the dog bowls, and I would eat on all fours, with my feet and collar still tied with chains. Sometimes, I was chained up so that he had to shove the food in my mouth.

I would piss and shit as I could, dirtying my legs and the floor like a filthy animal. Toy would wash the floor and my body with brooms and soap.

When my Owner and his boyfriend came to the garage, it was to whip and torture me. In this first stage, they came three or four times a week, sometimes for short, violent beatings, as if they were angry about something and wanted to release the tension in my back. They were nervous, violent, and very painful whippings. Sometimes, both came calmly and slowly and spent hours whipping me and talking about any subject, their work, sports, or travel plans. They whipped me while they smoked and drank, without rushing, varying the types of whips and having fun showing how they could hit the softest parts. 

Some Sundays, they stayed all afternoon, until sunset, whipping me. There were so many lashes that I passed out several times, and in the end, my entire body was covered in wounds and blood dripping. After these worse beatings, they immobilized me in very uncomfortable and stressful positions so that Toy could apply the medicines, disinfectants, and healing agents. And they left me like that for a day or two, suffering and healing my wounds. 

Sometimes, Toy had to clean the dried sperm off my legs.

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 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.

The gift to the Duchess's Garden.

This post shows the delivery of the boy, who was tied to the totem at the Garden of Delights in the post   https://bdsmmaledrawings.blogspot.com/2023/11/one-day-he-realized-that-in-his-deep.html 

The boy was the youngest and most handsome son of a wealthy merchant family who was sent to court to see if any princesses would be interested in marrying him.

He frequented the Garden and got very horny seeing naked boys being whipped mercilessly. He found that he was jealous of their fate.

He suggested to his father that he give it to the Duchess's Garden. His parents soon realized the advantages of this and requested an audience with the Duchess.

The boy was one of the couple's eight children. He was the most lustful, intemperate, and lazy. He was sexually insatiable, and his reputation was the result of numerous affairs he had with women and men who worked in the family home and shops. Therefore, when he said he would be interested in being given as a gift to the Duchess, his parents were immediately enthusiastic about the idea – as they would eliminate a problem and have social advantages.

In the audience, in front of the Duchess and the others present in the hall, the father undressed his son to show his son's youth, beauty, strength, and dick size. He showed a beautiful and big dick, rigid with the lust to be shown like that to everyone.

The Duchess smiled and said to the merchant: If he is taken to the Garden, he will never return home, don't you?

The father replied respectfully: I know perfectly well, Duchess, that my wife and I are giving you our youngest son as a gift for Your Grace to do with him as you please!

The Duchess smiled and reiterated: this beautiful boy will be a toy for the garden princesses to have fun and study how his body works. His body will be whipped, tortured, and dissected painfully and cruelly. When he dies, pieces of him will be fed to our dogs. You and your lady are aware of this, aren't you?

Without looking away from the noble lady, the father replied: Your Grace, we know perfectly well that this is the fate of the men in your Garden, and we reiterate that we are happy and honored to hand over this son as our gift to Your Grace.

The Duchess handed a collar to the merchant, who solemnly took it and placed it around his son's neck.

She made a sign, and some of her servants approached the boy, took off all his clothes, leaving him completely naked, wearing only his collar, and quickly took him out of the room. He was led away by the servants without his parents or siblings present looking at him or noticing the semen he spilled on the beautiful lobby floor.

That same afternoon, the powerful Duchess received other gifts from other bourgeois families, such as beautiful horses, fruit trees, and exotic tropical birds.

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.

The only thing left of him for me is his sadism, and I'm happy with that.

I had been looking for a gay BDSM relationship for years without success. A little over five years ago, I finally found a handsome and sadistic young man who accepted me as his exclusive fag slave.

He is young, sexy, beautiful, intelligent, and charming, and I decided to live just for him, doing all his wishes.

I work for a transport company and don't make much money, but since he came to live with me, my salary has been entirely deposited into his account. I haven't had the slightest control over my account for years, and everything I have now is his.

From when I get home until I leave for my job, I spend the entire time naked and taking care of the housework, washing his clothes, tidying his house, and cooking for him. 

In the early years, I sucked his dick from time to time, and he fucked me a few times, but over time he lost interest in me and started inviting cute boys the same age as him to fuck him at home. I couldn't complain, I'm just shit, and he's my owner! He is over twenty years old; I am already close to fifty.

The only interest he still has in me is when he exercises his sadism. He is really sadistic and loves to spend hours making me horny, suffering, feeling endless pain and excitement. He enjoys giving painful electric shocks to my nipples, balls, and cock. This is our sex; it is the reward I get for giving myself entirely and without limits to him.

Sometimes, he leaves the house on Friday night and leaves me chained with the wires stuck in my body, sets the timer so that I get shocked for five minutes every hour, and he only comes back on Sunday afternoon, tired and Too drunk to remember to unchain me. On Monday morning, he releases my chains, I take a shower, removing all the cum, piss, and shit that runs from my body, and I go to work famish and exhausted to earn money for my owner.

I know I'm worthless, too old, and ugly to please a handsome young guy like him, but I'm thrilled to live for him. He treats me like a shitty old perverted faggot, but that's what I am. I'm happy for every minute he uses me; I love the humiliation, the contempt, and the violence with which he treats me. That is my pleasure, and I feel that, in my way, I still give you some fun.

Three years of slavery: being tortured mercilessly. Part seven.

The couple took great pleasure in torturing me with great cruelty as if they wanted to discover if I could survive the cruelest brutalities. 

They deeply fucked my throat, broken into many times until I suffocated and almost passed out. They offered me to all their friends who arrived at the house, suggesting that they fuck my mouth until my throat was broken! I felt the cocks going deep into my neck. Some guys would stick their dicks deep inside and then piss directly inside me.

When I vomited, they punished me and slapped me violently in the face.

They dislocated my jaw several times. I was sore and injured; I could no longer close my mouth correctly, speak, or chew anything. I felt like my jaw was out of place; it didn't fit anymore.

One day, my owner's boyfriend bought a shock device. Their new toy had two buttons to regulate the voltage and amperage of the electrical discharges. To my despair, they loved testing the effects of electricity on different parts of my body.

During shocks, I lost control of every muscle in my body. They placed clips with the wires on my ears, on my tongue, on my balls, on my dick, and especially on my nipples and tested how much I moaned and writhed during the electrical charges. They had fun watching me scream, cry, piss, shitted, and sometimes even come in despair and pain. They stuck copper rods into my dick and gave it such strong shocks that I feared the rod would melt inside it. I felt my body convulsing; I felt terrible spasms and burns.

In all the most terrible situations, when I even feared dying, they showed that they didn't care how much I suffered or whether I would survive. When I passed out from pain or lack of air, they continued with the torture or left me there, unconscious, waiting for me to wake up to return to the fun.

Sometimes, they electrocuted me while watching a movie on television or chatting trivially with someone on the cell phone. I was nothing. I felt like just something, a despicable toy that they could use without fear of ruin or kill.

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!