Three Years a Slave: feeling horny building my dungeon. Part eleven.

The day after my arrival, my owner decided I would be kept in a material deposit at the bottom of the house's parcel. It was nothing more than a cramped, windowless, stuffy shed as it was kept away from the home they never wanted to keep me or their new slave there. Their slaves had to stay in the house to be able to serve them and be used whenever they wanted.

The idea of putting me in the shed reinforced the proposal that I would just be a slave for torture and abuse, kept in captivity, always chained.

That's why they bought thick wooden lintels, measuring twelve by twelve centimeters, and ordered me to assemble a structure inside the warehouse, with rings and straps to tie the ropes and chains that would bind me.

Toy helped me a little, but I was the one who sawed, drilled, screwed, and fixed each piece of my cell. In a few days, I carefully assembled the beams that would hang me to be tortured and whipped. My owner followed the work carefully, ensuring the measurements were respected and the structure was rigid and stable.

When Toy and I were working alone, he said - "Pig, you're crazy! You're making your gallows!"

I confess that I worked hard and passionately; I was in a hurry to feel chained to that structure.

I was so horny and happy to go back to work naked and feel like a fucking animal again.

Three Years a Slave: Returning to the Dungeon, meeting Toy. Part ten.

The wealthy couple took me back and ordered their new slave to help me get settled. When we were both alone, the new slave introduced himself.

─ Pig, I'm their Toy, you can call me Toy; that's what they call me, and my previous name doesn't matter anymore.

─ They called me Pig.

─ I know; I think I saw all the videos they filmed of you being tortured.

─ Did they show you?

─ No, but I had to suck their dicks the many times they watched it. They masturbated and got excited watching the videos in which you cried and howled in pain and despair. They really love to see you suffering a lot. I signed a contract with them for three years like you did. But in my agreement with them, I didn't allow them to do the same barbaric things they did to you.

─ Do they watch videos of my torture?

─ Pig, they love watching and re-watching these videos. They love seeing you suffering in despair, so they must be happy to have you back!

I didn't know whether to be happy or scared by this information. Toy added:

─ They were often frustrated with me for not being able to torture myself. My contract only allows them to lock my dick and use my holes mercilessly. Even so, they bite me hard and slap me on the butt and some very violent slaps on the face. I'm thrilled to have you back! I feel safer with them being able to exercise their sadism on you!

─ I'm going to be massacred! I'm fucked!

─ Surely! Sorry for the question, but why did you come back? Are you crazy?

─ I think I'm crazy; I can't deny it. I have always been gay, submissive, and masochistic. But what happened is that for three years, they made me feel like a shit worm; they tortured me as if I were worthless shit, and they despised and tortured me with such cruelty and violence as if I were worth absolutely nothing. They did this so many times that I agreed that this is who I am, what I am, that this is my place and role in the world. I can no longer present myself to someone as a human being; I no longer feel like a human being; I feel like an impostor, pretending to be something I'm not.

─ Dude, look, I'm the same age as you; at most, I'm as old as you were when you came here three years ago, but today you look much older than me. You look like a monster, with that pig nose and those grotesque, deformed tits and balls. You won't last much longer being tortured like you will be.

─ It's true, Toy; I know that even worse because they won't have to respect any limits this time. I know that it will be my end.

─ Well, anyway, welcome, Pig, I'm glad you're back! We won't be friends, but I'll try to make you last as long as possible! I don't want you to disappear or die. It will be better and safer for me if they have you around to torture.

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.

Three years of slavery: being freed. Part eight.

One day, when I was alone in the house, I saw a guy whom I hadn't seen in years, the guy who had made the contract for me to be in slavery for three years. The time had run out, and I didn't even remember it.

I had been delivered to my Owner by this same agent, who maintained a sex app on the internet for the sale and rental of submissive and masochistic fagots to sadistic and dominant Owners.

Years ago, he must have charged my Owner a sum of money for handing me over for three years, with the rules that he and I established that they shouldn't cut any part out or break any bone. 

For three years, I served as a sex toy for my Owner and his boyfriend without being able to complain about any breach of contract.

They held me captive, used and tortured me cruelly, fed me, and altered my body by injecting so many things that I didn't even know what they were doing.

Now, the guy from the app arrives at the house, brings a change of clothes, asks me to get dressed, and tells me to take off the collar. I obeyed and followed him to the car. He left me in a small, cheap hotel room where I could shower and find other clothes.

He handed me a bank card; I saw I had a good cash balance. In a few weeks, I tried to get used to getting my life back, going back to work, and having an everyday life.

It had been three years since I slept in a bed or wore a piece of clothing; none of this was familiar or made sense to me anymore.

I looked in the mirror, and what I saw didn't seem like me. The pig nose, pointy tits, huge balls, and dick made me look pathetic and grotesque. Without the grooming that kept my hair short, I was hairy and bearded in a short time, and my entire body was covered in thick, long hair, which made it look more like an animal than a person. 

I drooled when I spoke, and it seemed like I had never used forks or knives; I had lost my coordination in front of a plate. The most challenging act was talking; I couldn't articulate the words naturally, my voice sounded like a growl, and I couldn't even think usually.

I lost the ability to control myself; I was shitting and urinating in my pants uncontrollably. 

When I went out on the streets, I felt ashamed of the ugly, smelly trash I had become. I didn't feel like people; I felt like I was dressed up and pretending to be something I wasn't - I felt like I wasn't a person anymore.

When I met a familiar face, the person didn't recognize me; they looked at me with strangeness and disgust. I wasn't me anymore.

I was afraid to leave my room and fell into deep depression and sadness. I desperately missed the kitchen floor, nudity, and slavery. I felt like my place in the world was chained and naked.

Desperate, I called the man who freed me and asked if I could go back and be my Master's slave again.

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.