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.

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.

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.

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 of slavery: starting the routine. Part fourteen.

After the structure was built and the rings were placed piercing my nipples, dick, and ears, I was firmly chained with my arms up and standing upright.

They didn't want to release my chains in any way; I understood that I was now part of the structure, and soon, I had to learn to sleep and eat while chained, which was not easy.

I was no longer the slave who cared for the house or them; for household chores, they had Toy. It was Toy who took care of them and me.

He came to the shed for two days to treat the ring wounds, applying sterilizing and anti-inflammatory ointments. My skin has always healed very well; the wounds were already healed within two days.

Toy fed me by putting large spoons of dog food in my mouth, he gave me water, and he washed me with the nozzle and the broom as a mop, cleaning the urine and shit that ran down my legs.

Being chained there was already a terrible torture for the arms, wrists, and legs. My whole body ached with fatigue and cramps from having to stand in chains for so many hours.

However, on the third day, locked there, sweaty and tired, the door opened early in the morning, and Toy held a long leather whip.

Without saying anything, he gave the first lash in my back and then another and another. He spent the whole day whipping slowly, calmly, and with long intervals between each lash. He was learning how to handle the whip, practicing how to make the whip cross the air, crack, and hit every part of my body.

I confess that I found it humiliating to be whipped by another slave. I imagined that only my Owners could do that, but I was less than a slave like him; I was now really a pig chained to serve as a toy, even for a young and beautiful slave like the Toy.

He only stopped for a brief time to eat, but throughout the day, he whipped me with accurate blows and other clumsy and erratic ones. It hurt a lot when he hit the lash accurately, but the pain was even worse when he missed the blow.

At the beginning of the night, he stopped; I stayed there for about an hour or two, thinking that I would spend another night alone in the shed when my Owners entered, each carrying a whip in their hands.

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!

Three years of slavery: a masochistic sow. Part five.

 I accepted and faced the entire process of physical transformation without questioning or complaining. For many months I took the injections; I felt my body changing, my breasts growing, and my dick and balls becoming huge, heavy and sensitive.

The injections in my sac and dick hurt a lot, but I felt a massive urge; I felt permanently excited and highly horny, almost having non-stop orgasms, but I no longer had erections.

My nipples became huge, like cows' udders; they became soft and sensitive. When my owner pinched or burned them, I felt very horny and in pain at the same time.

When they broke my nose and sewed the nostril higher up, it hurt immensely, but my breathing changed. My nostrils were wide open, like a pig's. I was sad; I loved my nose; I thought it was beautiful, but if my owner wanted something different, I accepted it.

They forced my jaw back so much that it was dislocated several times; at times, I could barely chew the food. They stuck big, thick dildos down my throat to widen it, hurting it and changing the shape of my windpipe and my appearance. My cheeks became more oversized and saggy, my neck was soft, and the skin was looser.

I didn't have a mirror to look at what was happening to my body and face; I spent many months without having a single opportunity to see myself reflected anywhere. When cleaning my owner's room, I saw myself for the first time in a mirror; I no longer recognized myself. They turned me into something else;

I don't think anyone in my family would be able to recognize me again. I became a bit grotesque and animalistic; I gained muscle mass, and I became much bigger, fatter, and more robust, and at the same time, with big breasts and a big ass.

During the process, my Owner met a handsome, much younger boy and began a daddy-and-boy relationship. The boy soon began to live in my Master's house, and I was introduced to the boy as his slave and, in a way, shared and given to him for his enjoyment.

I gave the boy countless blowjobs, washed his clothes, and cooked and served meals to the loving couple. I obeyed him the same way I followed my Owner and was treated with the same contempt and sadism.

One day, the boy decided to learn to handle a whip with more skill. He tied my wrists to a rope that hung from the house's ceiling and spent a whole day whipping me with violence and cruelty just to train how to make the whip snap and hurt my skin the way he wanted.

For him, it was just training and fun; for me, pain and excitement. Even with the whip hurting my body, I felt horny; when my huge nipples were whipped, I almost came; when he whipped my thick cock, I ejaculated a liter of cum! Several times, I howled with pain and excitement, not knowing whether to beg for mercy or more violent lashes!

My body was covered in wounds and scars, blood, sweat, tears, and sperm. There were thousands and thousands of painful and delicious lashes, almost all dag. The young boy seemed tireless, and I felt insatiable; I loved every good lash.

My Owner ordered me never to say anything to him. I never spoke or addressed him, but he took pleasure in cursing me, shouting with contempt - you like that, don't you, pig? You want me whipping these ridiculous big tits, don't you, slut sow? Those huge asses look pretty red like cherries, don't they?

He stopped to have lunch, to go to the bathroom, to talk on the phone, but he started whipping again, testing how and where to whip, how hard, how to hold the handle of the whip, and how to position his arm.

Early in the evening, my Owner arrived home, and they released my arms so I could tidy up the kitchen, repair and serve dinner for the couple.

During dinner, they talked sweetly, and my Owner asked his boy: what did you do all day today? And he replied: nothing significant. I was a little bored, playing with the sow and talking to my friends on the cell phone.

My Owner didn't seem to notice or care that I was covered in bleeding wounds and marks from the lashes.

Listening to this conversation removing the dirty dishes from the table, sperm ran hot and abundant down my legs.

One day, he realized that in his deep soul, he envied these miserable and handsome servants tied on the totems.

Court princesses could use servants as they saw fit. It was considered suitable for their training, education, and future to know everything about sexuality and sex. That's why the noblewomen organized a section of the palace's garden so they could stroll around pleasantly, talking about issues of sexuality. This themed garden was surrounded by tall hedges, which delimited flowerbeds with sculptures, pavilions, and totems with themes relating to sexuality. Court women could take young men to serve them sexually, selected and trained to give them pleasure.

Some nobles chose some of the most gifted and handsome young men and gave them as gifts to the Garden of Delights.

Phallic totems of varying sizes, made of solid stone, were used to tie these naked boys so that they could be handled, tortured, or dissected for the pleasure or education of the court girls.

Some of the young men tied up had their dicks hard, excited by fear and nudity. Some were masturbated by the girls many times until they used up the last drop of sperm. Others were chosen to serve as sex toys in their rooms.

Some of the young men were so shocked to see others like him being whipped to death just for the amusement of the maidens that they were petrified, catatonic, and unable to plead for mercy or attempt to escape the brutal and fatal fate.

The beautiful princess in the drawing is interested in and enjoys the sexual use of whips and how men get horny when they are tortured. She placed bells on the nipples of one of her servants and blinded him to serve as her toy pony in the garden. So, riding on her blind pony, she spent entire days destroying some boys tied to totems.

So many times, she whipped her slut pony almost to death cause she was intrigued that he got a hard-on when he was whipped or when he saw or heard other men being brutally whipped. That's why she decided to make him her pet blind pony.

The boy tied to the totem on the left in the drawing is not a servant. He is from a wealthy merchant family who was sent to court to see if any princesses would marry him. He frequented the garden and got very horny seeing young men like him being whipped. He discovered that deep down in his being, he was jealous of their fate. He asked his father to give it as a gift for the garden. The father soon realized the advantages this could bring him. He requested an audience with the Duchess, and before her and the court, he undressed his son, collared the pervert, and gave him as his gift to the Garden of Delights.

The princesses placed him on the last of the totems so that he could watch with a hard-on the others being whipped to death.

Now he's happy his turn has come!

Mr. Kristofer fulfilled his oldest dream.

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In this drawing, my sister and I are riding beasts through the fields of one of our farms.

 With the improvement of neoliberal capitalism and the elimination of all institutional and legal barriers to the free market, the world found a long phase of development and wealth like never before. 

Slavery was legalized in all countries; people could now be officially registered as human beasts. The laws were clear: "HU" beasts could not be humanized again, and the reduction was irreversible and definitive.

HU beasts are not protected by any law or right; not even laws that protect animals apply to these brute and despicable beings; they are just things to be used and discarded without limits.

This new law solved many illegal migrants, homeless, and needy people who disturbed order and generated police and environmental problems. Finally, they were incorporated into production chains to generate wealth as enslaved workers, herds for producing blood and organs for transplants, or even livestock for slaughter and production of milk and meat. 

Farms for breeding HU beasts have prospered in all nations. Advanced veterinary care for these beasts allowed the development of breeds more adapted to heavy work, more muscular, larger, and more docile. Other smaller breeds were developed for work in tunnels, underground pipes, wells, and maintenance of large machines. More lustful and permanently horny breeds were created for all types of prostitution and sexual diversions.

Any human can be enslaved either for having committed crimes or for debts, so there are no more problems of crime or poverty in our cities! Families could sell children to generate income or because they are unwanted. With the legalization of all forms of slavery, the number of voluntary slaves was also surprising; most were perverted fagots who volunteered for slavery out of simple sexual perversion or to pay off their families' debts.

My family gets rich by raising and selling different types of HU beasts for different types of work. I grew up having several of these animals in our home. In this drawing, my sister and I are riding beasts through the fields of one of our farms. 

I, like some of my uncles and cousins, prefer to ride beasts that were once people born human, especially those reduced by poverty or debt as adults.

This type of beast, as soon as it is enslaved, usually has its vocal cords cut, and even if they receive high doses of hormones and steroids, they do not lose that sad, melancholy, and resigned look to slavery. They maintain a particular shame throughout their lives due to nudity and humiliation, which I find charming and makes me horny. 

These two riding beasts still moan and cry when whipped and fucked.

I love seeing them crying sad!

A drawing for a perverted and masochistic friend!

When I made the last few posts, an old fagot called HB, very masochistic and submissive, showed me his posts in which he sought to find someone who would use his old, flaccid body in the most brutal and fatal ways. He dreams of someone violently wrecking him with sadism and cruelty.

This is the post he regularly shares on his Twitter profile.

So, I kindly offered him these drawings, showing his dream coming true. A rich guy who owns a medium-sized industry decided to take this old fagot and have fun at his expense, making his dreams come true.

He is part of a group of sadistic dominators who were looking for the opportunity to honestly and without limits torture some truly masochistic fagot.

HB was overjoyed, surprised, and stunned to find someone who wanted to use him; within a week, he arrived at the airport of his savior tormentor. 

They took him directly to the factory far from the city's edge. They ripped off the older man's clothes and handed him to a group of cruel guys to be beaten, tortured, and gang-raped. There were days of relentless beatings, torture, and sexual abuse.

His throat was destroyed by hard, thick cocks thrust repeatedly until he choked. His jaw was dislocated from so many fucks and punches and slaps in the face. His anus was enlarged by countless rapes, penetrated by cocks, fists, rods, and tubes of varying diameters.

His nipples were crushed by bites and pliers and burned by blowtorches, soldering irons, and cigarettes.

His body was whipped, burned, and tortured in the most painful and violent ways; however, during all these days, the perv fagot only moaned with lust and pleasure. At no point did he ask for mercy or protest against the abuse. Sometimes, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the excitement when his nipples were crushed and burned. He howled excitedly and horny when the whips ripped his back!

He sucked the cocks placed in his mouth eagerly, enthusiastically, drinking all the cum and licking the cocks insatiably.

All the boys who beat him saw the pleasure and excitement the old fagot felt from the pain, abuse, and humiliation.

When the old whore managed to say something, when his mouth wasn't sucking the cock of one of the executioners, he screamed, begging: Hit harder, you can hit without mercy, that's what I want, that's what this perverted old whore deserves and likes!

The factory owner showed the class the post H shared on the internet. They tried to fulfill each of the perverted fagot's requests. They pulled out some of his teeth with pliers and all of his nails, broke his nose, tore off his ears with pliers, ground, and burned his nipples with a hot iron.

However, they left his eyes so he could see everything he suffered, and they did not castrate him because they enjoyed watching him have erections and ejaculate many times during the torture. One of the boys milked him many times to see how much cum that older fag could ejaculate. After over twenty times, he gave up on masturbating the insatiable pervert.

It was a week of violent pleasure for the insane and insatiable queer. He didn't eat anything; he was fed by sperm and drank the piss of the cruel executioners; he lost about ten kilos in a few days.

Over the weekend, they placed an iron bar on his back and tied his neck, arms and legs, and his scrotum to the bar. Then, they used a small crane to take him to the bar for the barbecue.

When H saw that he was being taken to be placed over the burning fire, he came once more. Speaking with difficulty due to his dislocated jaw, missing teeth, and destroyed throat, he still moaned: thank you guys! Thanks guys! Thank you very much, guys!

And then he blacked out.

Our shared sex toy.

We met years ago through gay BDSM apps. He sought some sadistic dominator and dreamed of being kept in permanent and irreversible captivity. A friend of mine, a sadist, is a partner in a transport company with garages and warehouses in various parts of the city's outskirts. He said he had a small, unused mechanic shop that no one had been to for many years.

I organized with this friend and three other sadistic colleagues to keep the shit fagot chained in this place for shared use. We have the keys to the site; we can go there and do whatever we want with the opportunities we get. We are all married, heterosexual men with families, good incomes, and friends. The fag appears to be a guy of Arab origin with a big nose, very hairy and ugly. He must be around 30 years old, not tall, fat, and bald, with a beautiful, thick, and big dick and beautiful, soft balls hanging from a big scrotum.

This arrangement has been working very well for over seven years!

I picked him up when he arrived at the bus station in our city; I took him straight to the garage. I undressed him, chained him, and burned his clothes and documents. I didn't want to know his name, story, or voice. We agree that he must always remain silent and learn not to say anything anymore. His mouth is just for sucking our dicks and swallowing whatever we tell him to swallow, be it dog food, piss, or shit. He sucks very well; with affection, passion, and competence, he swallows all the cum without spilling a single drop. Our cum seems to be his favorite food.

I learned that he can bare different types of torture very well; he moans, cries, sweats and writhes, and even faints, but he has horny, has many erections, and cums while I crush his nipples or balls. He has excellent healing; the wounds we open on his back with the whips bleed extensively but heal quickly.

The slut is our perfect sex toy; he obeys meekly and accepts everything to please us. My toy partners and I have taken many other colleagues, friends, and curious people to abuse and play with it. For me, it's easier to use it in the middle of the afternoon on workdays; I can stay there for two or three hours fucking, being sucked, and crushing its nipples in between visiting a client or supplier. One of my partners gets his friends together to "play cards," they all tell their wives that they are at the other's house and spend the night testing whips and practicing whipping the fagot until the walls of the workshop are covered in stains from the blood that splashes.

A friend of mine went with me on a "visit" while I cruelly crushed the pervert's nipples; my friend had fun burning the faggot's penis with cigarettes and cigars. Some of the burns were so severe that they left a permanent mark, but while he held his penis to burn it, the fagot came and ejaculated a lot! I don't know if he was moaning with desperation or with lust.

One day, this friend, who enjoys CBT, found a big industrial battery in the corner of the garage that automotive workshops have for charging truck or bus batteries. And it still worked! We spent hours attaching the electrical clips to the faggot's tits, dick, balls, and tongue, testing different voltages and ways of making him suffer. He had convulsions, shook a lot, and then stiffened, becoming stiff and tense with his eyes wide open. The bitch pissed and shit without control; we had a lot of fun with the new torture instrument.

Sometimes, a perv toy goes days or weeks without any visit or use. That's why we leave pots of food and water within his reach. We agreed that when we left the warehouse, we would always leave it chained with its hands behind him so he couldn't touch himself. He is chained so that he can only crawl; he has learned to eat like a pig without using his hands.

His ass was still narrow when we started using it. One of the partners began to insert increasingly wider dildos, stretching his anus. The garage owner pays one of his employees to clean the place, wash his clothes, and shave his hair once a month. It seems that the guy who does the service also uses our toy, but okay, we don't see a problem with that.

I don't know how this situation will end. I know it will end one day, but I will miss having a toy to use freely, without worries or fears. Even though I can only use it once or twice a week, even when I'm at home on the couch with the family watching TV at night, I get a hard-on remembering that that piece of shit is there, naked and chained to the dirty, hard, cold, dirty garage floor waiting for me.

I think he was the happiest of all of us. Second part.

My father used to say that when he and his brothers went out with the herds of goats to take them to the pastures to eat, it was enough for them to go far enough away from the house so that the adults wouldn't see them anymore because that queer brother would already take off all his clothes. He put the collar around his neck as if he were one of the goats in the herd.

When he started to do that, the other kids joked around, treating him with mockery and meanness as if he were a goat, and he accepted the jokes without complaining, walking around on all fours and naked the whole time.

But the goats of the herd were also used by the older boys for juvenile sex. The bigger boys fucked the goats and gave them their penises to lick. It was they who discovered the most effective uses for the goat brother. Soon he knew how every boy in the village liked to be blown, and they all knew every crease in his asshole. For years, the village's favorite goat was a secret only for adults, as all the boys and young men knew very well how to use this particular goat.

I think he was the happiest of all of us.

Our village was poor; the region was just sand and stone, and it wasn't easy to plant anything. Life was uncompromising and straightforward. The little water in the area was scarce and very controlled. Summers were hot and dry, winters very cold. Most of the days were consumed carrying water for the houses and livestock. Our mules had to do this painful and heavy work as the slopes were very steep. In addition to mules, we raised a few cows, goats, and chickens. The shepherding of the goats was the lightest task and involved the youngest children.

My father used to say that at this stage of childhood, when he was so young, he and his brothers stayed with the others taking care of the goats; one of his brothers, our uncle, had already asked to be among the goats; he liked to be naked and be treated like one of the animals. The boys who worked with the goats started their sex lives by fucking these animals; my father used to say that our uncle was treated, beaten, and fucked as if he were one of the goats. One day, our grandfather saw the other boys abusing him, and he was naked, on all fours, with a collar on and bleating like one of the goats in the herd.

My father says their father squatted next to the youngest, pulling him by the collar and asking: Are you a fag goat? The boy, without blinking, replied to his father: Yes, I am a fag goat.

My grandfather pulled the leash until he lifted the naked kid off the ground, spat in his face, and threw him on the hard ground, saying: From now on, this fag shit is not a boy anymore; he is one of the village animals, you always keep him on a leash, ok? You can hit, kick, fuck, do whatever you want with this slut goat.

So, since childhood, this uncle of mine was treated by the whole family and everyone in our village like one of our animals. My grandfather never again let him wear clothes or walk without a collar and harness like other mules. The tin bells that we tied to the animals to locate them were tied to his balls, and wherever he walked, he made that noise that mules, cows, and some goats made when walking along the steep and uneven trails in our region.

My sisters, brothers, neighbors, and friends used to lead the animals in transporting water and supplies up the hill. Any one of us drove any of the animals, we knew each of them, and we learned how to make them march in rhythm, even in the most challenging passages, using sticks and whips to motivate them. 

Our life was rough; we worked hard, didn't treat any animals with kindness, and were stiff and scratchy in dealing with them. But I tell you that my uncle was the one who was treated with the most violence and cruelty by everyone. When my father led his brother up the hill, he whipped so violently that the animal arrived at our house with its back dripping with blood. Our grandmother, one of the village's gentlest women, beat her son with such sadism that I was amazed at how her old arm cut such deep wounds into the animal's thighs.

I believe it was hard daily work that made him the strongest of all we had. The robust and hairy body, dirty with earth and sand, covered with wounds and scars, with fleas and ticks, stank like the other animals, circulated without rest or embarrassment all day up and down the hill. All day, we listened to the shouts of command from those driving him, mingled with its moans, the cracking of sticks and whips, and the ringing of bells between its legs.

At night, like all the other men in the village, I would go to the stables to rape or be sucked by the filthy animal.

None of us in the village felt any pity for the slut animal, as we all knew it was like that because it wanted to be like that. I could see that it took absolute pleasure when it was whipped, fucked, or worked hard, naked all day. I saw him sucking the guys' dicks with such care and enthusiasm that none of our women felt when putting those dirty, pissed, and sweat-smelling dicks in their mouths. When we fucked him, we could do it brutally and forcefully, one after the other, as it never complained. Sometimes, during rapes, his cock got so hard it felt like he would come at any moment. Sometimes, revolted by our animal's lust and pleasure, I would kick his colossal cock, and he would moan and ejaculate with desire.

We all took out our frustrations, revolt, and dissatisfaction with life on him. Seeing him covered in sores and bruises, blood and sperm from all of us, we felt superior - we were fucked up, shitty, but he was the most miserable and despised of all! And yet, I think he was the happiest of all of us.

I walked back to my house, completely happy, looking forward to their next call.

Since we were teenagers, we've lived in this neighborhood, grown up together, and played in these same streets. They were my best friends, the closest and most intimate. That's why they were the first to realize that I was a fagot; I think they noticed before I even understood what I felt and was. When they realized I was a slut fagot, they started using me as their private fagot. They taught me to suck, to jerk off for them, and they fucked me daily.

I don't know if I liked being their little whore from the beginning or even if I liked being beaten and humiliated so much. But the fact is, they understood they could do whatever they wanted to me, and I just accepted and submitted without question.

When I left work this afternoon, they called me to arrange a meeting on this corner, and I obeyed. I knew what they were going to do.

I arrived over an hour before the two of them and waited dutifully.

When they arrived, they brought ropes; they tied my wrists behind me.

They tied my knees tight and leaned me against this pole. Then they removed my belt and restrained my neck tightly to the bar, almost suffocating me.

They opened my shirt and lowered my pants, exposing my nakedness; I was embarrassed and excited immediately. I never questioned that this body was theirs.

They then tied the base of my hard cock and my balls very tight and proceeded to spank me with a hard, flexible rod.

I felt the pain of each blow punishing my body, my breasts, and especially my cock and balls. He listened to the hum of the stick in the air, the impact, and their laughter, stunned and silent.

They squeezed and twisted my nipples very hard as if adjusting my hard-on. They hit the head of my cock with the stick so skillfully that they made me come several times.

I cried with pain and pleasure, feeling so horny that I could die of happiness on that pole! But I knew what they would do next.

After making me come several times, they released me from the pole, lay my face down on the ground, and took turns fucking me brutally until they were tired.

Once they're sated, pissed, and spit on me, they take all my money in my wallet and go home, sleep with their wives, happy and relaxed.

Covered in cum, urine, and bruised, I walked back to my house, completely happy, looking forward to their next call.

She organized a party to whip me and relieve all their anger.

I signed the contract more than 15 years ago, as soon as I turned 21 years old. I was determined to sign without thinking twice; I wanted to sign and never decide anything again; from that moment on accepted and obey without questioning my Owner. I knew I was a lascivious, faggot, masochist, and submissive and that I would only be happy like this accepting and living my nature fully, without questioning it on a 24/7 basis. My Owner never loved or cheated on me; he just promised me that I would be treated like the shitty fagot I wanted to be.

As soon as I signed the papers renouncing everything and giving him all powers, he ripped my clothes off and gave me the first beating with the whip until I came right before the lawyers and witnesses. 

After I came, I had to suck all their dicks while being fucked by each one. From that day on, I never wore anything, not even a sock! I became his slut fag bitch, naked all the time, being beaten and fucked by all his friends, clients, and acquaintances.

I don't know if he lent me or rented me to his friend; she organized a party inviting her friends to whip me until they got revenge on every abusive man they ever had to put up with. The women group spent the whole night drinking and telling each other how much they've suffered from sexual harassment, sexism, and abuse in their affective and professional lives. When they told their stories, they got angry and took out all their revolt with the whip on my back. They lashed me with violence, hatred, cruelty, and force, ripping my hide without mercy.

While suffering, I came several times; I ejaculated so much that the sperm made several puddles on the living room floor. At the end of the evening, one of the guests said to the hostess, "My friend, I loved our group therapy! I felt so much lighter after venting my anger and anguish! Can we do this again?"

My Owner's friend smiled, "Yes, we'll do it! I've booked this piece of shit for all our happy hours this semester! Next Friday, you can invite those other friends you said you would!"

Listening to this conversation, I came once more and I thought, I hope they bring heavier whips.

They made him the happiest fagot in town.

These five guys had been neighbors since childhood; they grew up together in a country town in the interior of São Paulo surrounded by cane fields. Their families knew each other, went to the same school, the same church, and were the same age. Ever since their sexuality emerged during adolescence, they bullied the biggest, realizing he was submissive and faggot. Friends noticed before him his gay nature. His family was the poorest; he was bigger, stronger, and hairier, and he had a vast and beautiful dick, but he soon found out he was gay.

Instead of bothering or moving away from them, he did the opposite; he encouraged the humiliation and violence of his friends. They treated him like a bitch, took him to the cane fields and fucked him, made him suck their dicks, and spanked him. He was the first fuck for each of them, the first blowjob, and the one who knew how to jerk them off better than themselves. He obeyed, sucked, and endured everything willingly and with his hard cock, happy and horny.

They soon became his only friends as his family threw him out of his home; he had to drop out of school, work as a gas station attendant and live at the back of a gas station.

His four friends grew up, attended college and prospered, dated and married, had families, and started businesses.

The poor and queer friend could not go to his friends' houses nor be seen with them. They kept their friendship with him a secret from the group, and he willingly became the secret whore of the group of "straight" friends.

He did everything they ordered or asked, always available and willing. Almost every weekend, the four friends would pick him up at the gas and take him to the cane field to fuck, humiliate and beat him. 

They left town in one of their trucks when they stopped at bars and made him get off with a leash, barefoot, and pay for everyone's drink. They took from him all the money he earned; they always kept him without any savings.

"You don't need any money, right bitch? The only thing you need to be happy about is to keep your ass full of our cum! That's not it, you piece of shit!"

He agreed and handed over to his friends whatever little he earned weekly without complaint. He only had the money to pay for what he ate and old uniforms, and it was a miserable and empty life.

He would let his friends tie him to the same electricity poles to whip him violently for hours until he almost passed out.

Still tied to the posts, he resignedly accepted; when they squeezed and twisted his nipples and hard dick with pliers. He came during even the most violent tortures, even when he moaned in pain and lust. His cum jet confirmed his bitchy nature and submission to his friends.

At the end of the afternoon, they left him naked and covered in piss, spit, and semen in the cane field so that he could return alone and walk naked to the gas station.

He loved his friends profoundly and was grateful for everything they did for him. He would do anything for their happiness and dream of being theirs forever. They made him the happiest fagot in town.

An innovative startup created an app to sell live sex toys to wealthy people!

In the mid-21st century, when the big global technology groups eliminated states, neoliberal capitalism took over all areas and sectors of the economy. Police systems, armies, prison systems, and even justice were privatized. The legislative system and the government are managed by "managers" and "CEO's" in the service of investors, large banks, trusts, and companies. There are no more universal individual rights; now, there are only consumer and investor rights, and justice only takes care of contracts and commercial agreements.

People arrested for any crime or misconduct by the police enter the private prison system as a commodity. All prisoners have to pay for time and services while in prison; those who cannot afford to pay can do forced labor, be hired, or even be sold for any purpose. They usually regularly take blood, sperm, hair, and organs that can be sold.

After being slaughtered, all parts are used, each piece of meat, leather, bones, corneas, etc.

A very innovative Korean startup has proposed a more profitable way of slaughtering inmates. This web app allows consumers to own one of these inmates for fun, using them as sex toys until they die.

The application offers sex prisoner toys that can be chosen by type, size, and all the characteristics that please consumers. Buyers can choose the place to play; everything can be taken to buyers' homes or clubs, farms, or resorts. They can hire complementary services, choose sumptuous dinners, the type of food, drinks, and decoration, having live music and film crews. They decide whether they want one or two helpers, the types of pliers, chains, hooks, whips, paddles, sticks, or any instrument of torture. The sex toys that will be tortured can be muzzled if the client prefers to listen to ambient music or have their mouth free to hear their screams and moans. The toy might have a dildo locking its asshole to ensure it doesn't shit or have any orifices flushed out to be fucked by the group.

Experienced company technicians accompany all the fun of the customers, guiding the game to ensure that the toy does not die quickly, does not pass out or remain unconscious for a long time, but must also take care that it does not leave there alive, so as not to disappoint the expectations of the customers. He guides the more anxious or less experienced guests on where to hurt, how to hurt, and how to provoke pain and sincere screams without spilling too much blood or getting too dirty on their clothes or the environment.

The company is an absolute success story; it put its services online less than a year ago, generated thousands of jobs, has an award-winning environmental policy, already has its shares on six stock exchanges, earned millions of dollars, and won many investors and loyal customers in more than twenty countries.

Celebrities and digital influencers share nights of pure lust and pleasure on their networks using the services. Groups of companies, sports teams, and university classes hired the services for commemorative and educational events with different purposes. His films produced for pornography are among the most accessed and sold.

What surprised its managers is that it had to create the reverse system quickly, with clients willing to be tortured to death for money or lust. Hundreds of poor or indebted men sought the app pending to be sold so their families could have their bills paid. Or even hundreds of masochistic perverts offer themselves free of charge to be traded. These sex toys have gained particular buyers who are particularly horny for these profiles, some reaching exceptionally high values at auctions.

In this image, a group of wealthy friends is excited to use the pliers on the toy's nipples, tongue, balls, and penis while one whips it. They booked the support team and lounge for at least eight hours of fun. They paid dearly; they didn't skimp on the chosen toy, as they loved its big soft nipples, its heavy balls in a very long scrotum and its colossal cock. The company prepared it to guarantee a beautiful and hard erection for hours.

I have the life I deserve and desire!

 

With some difficulty, I can still remember when I was about 12 years old, I was a happy kid when my teachers at school realized I was a faggot. On an exam in a computer class, I chose to click on screens that had men and not the ones that showed women. The Holly Ministry of Education and Morals had established procedures for identifying degenerates like me in early childhood. When the test denounced my orientation, school officials removed me from the room, took me with some other classmates to the courtyard, ripped off our uniforms, and we were chained and handed over to the police. I learned that the government compensated families and confiscated perverts to sell to companies as pack animals.

The laws of God and the traditional Christian family called for society to be free of perverts like me. Before the law, I was neither a god creation nor a human being; I was a slut beast from hell.

I never heard from my family again, wore clothes, or spoke a single word as they cut my vocal cords. In these years of slavery, I ate only animal feed; I was injected with so many drugs that I always felt dazed, confused, alert, and excited. I feel willing and able to work hard all day, without rest, without tiring. I don't feel hungry or in pain. I feel so horny that throughout the day, my cock is stiff and throbbing, even having to lift heavy chains that pierce my foreskin. The currents that penetrate my nipples pull them down, causing pain and arousal, arousing and pleasuring me simultaneously and all the time. I ejaculate many times a day, and the semen drips and dries between the hairs on my legs. An endless orgasm gives me the disposition and strength for work.

I feel joy, strangely happy and satisfied to be this strong and brute animal. I believe my degenerate queer nature is fully realized that way, being what I am.

Handlers who supervise the work of animals like me used to beat, torture, and rape us with cruel sadism and regularity. I and all the other fag animals are docile and obedient, and we fall in love with our handlers. We feel pleasure and gratitude for the beatings and fucks; we lovingly and carefully suck their dicks before being locked in our cells. They often pee on us after blowjobs, and we are even happier to have the smell of our owners' piss. They never wash us; we stink usually, and our aroma exudes acid and is strong from sweat, tears, semen, and urine. My filth and stink also turn me on; I can't understand my feelings or thoughts. I don't know if it's my queer nature or the drugs injected into my veins daily, but I know I'm delighted being what transformed me! I have the life I deserve and desire!