Evaporated Person 3

One month after Octavio's disappearance, he was already reported as missing. His ex-wife, more annoyed than worried, managed to get a locksmith to open his house, found everything normal. The suitcases and his clothes were in their place, his room was a "common" mess, there was enough food in the refrigerator, and his personal hygiene items were in their place. Then she became alarmed and called the police. Octavio was not on a trip, he had disappeared.

Meanwhile, Master Sánchez and Octavio had arrived that morning at a small house in a port city on the other side of the country.

Sánchez dedicated the entire morning to completely shaving Octavio's body. Octavio, in silence, let himself be shaved submissively, more out of fear of punishment than because he wanted to lose his body hair.

The two and a half hours that the process took gave him time to realize that what he had seen in that black slave was being fulfilled in him... he had already barked and behaved like a dog... not only had he licked the floor, he had eaten from it... and now Master Sánchez was stripping him of his body hair... just as they had stripped the black man.

His body was not as athletic as the man he had seen in the office, but a month of plowing, carrying Master Sánchez, and crawling on all fours had made his muscles develop and lose fat. The food he had was also influencing his transformation. He had well-defined pectorals and marked legs. His shoulders had widened, and he hadn't noticed, but his buttocks had risen and were round and firm.

The last thing Sánchez took from him was his eyebrows... when he finished shaving him, he put a thick iron collar on his neck and then put a chastity device on his cock. It wasn't as small as the one the slave he had seen had, in fact, it was made of metal and fit his cock almost completely.

"Today, the rules of the game are going to change," Sánchez told the slave. "From now on, you're not only going to be an animal, you're going to be a slave, and you're going to learn to serve a Master properly."

"Woof," Octavio barked instinctively.

"From now on, you're going to speak like men, not because you're a man, but because that's how your superiors can understand you. You're only allowed to say: 'yes, Master,' 'thank you, Master,' and 'sorry, Master.' Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master, thank you, Master," Octavio replied, surprising himself by hearing the sound of his voice for the first time in a month.

Sánchez took him on all fours to a full-body mirror in one of the rooms. "Look at yourself," he said. Octavio hadn't seen himself in the mirror for a month, didn't recognize the person without eyebrows in front of him; that was a completely inferior being to the Latin man who looked at him from behind, smiling.

"This is what you are from today on," Sánchez told him. "A slave without identity."

Octavio no longer thought much; the...