Spilled Milk

Leah prayed that today would be the day she died.

She had been woken the same way as always, by her captor's dick penetrating her sore rectum. Leah didn't bother trying to struggle: the position she was in left her completely helpless. Both feet were rooted to the floor by thick metal nails. The wounds had long been cauterized, and her legs were spread painfully wide, leaving no leverage with which to pull them away.

Her arms had suffered a similar fate. They pointed down and away, flat against the sides of her legs, hands reaching her shins. Bolts of metal, one in the palm of her hand, one by her elbow, and another in her bicep, went straight through her legs, a flat piece of metal capping the other end.

The injuries ached sometimes, especially during rainy weather, but were mostly painless. Leah had been unconscious through the entire procedure. Since the very first moment she'd woken up in captivity, so many months ago, they had been there.

The permanent bondage left her doubled over in a precarious balance. Even with her feet nailed in place, her leg muscles would have given way after mere hours. What kept her standing day after day, week after week, was the pole bolted to the floor directly beneath her. It extended up into her crotch, seven or eight inches of the dildo at its top buried in her pussy.

The position spread her butt cheeks apart and put her asshole at a perfect height for penetration, a fact that her captor often took advantage of. He fucked her now with steady, unhurried strokes. There was no anger to the rape, no passion. To him, she was nothing more than a set of warm holes for ejaculation.

Long minutes passed before Leah finally felt the hot spurts of semen in her bowels. He remained buried inside her until he'd gone completely soft, then pulled out and moved to her front. With one hand, he took hold of her hair and lifted her head up high enough that he could angle his limp prick into it. Given the chance, she would have bitten down hard, but he had seen to that. When he stuck a thumb into her mouth and pulled her jaw down, only smooth gums waited for him. Like the nails, her teeth had already been removed before she first woke up.

This was as much a part of her morning ritual as the anal rape, and Leah felt only weary disgust as he began urinating into her mouth. His first piss of the day was as bitter and salty as ever.

His dick tasted awful, especially with the slimy streaks on it after being up her ass. There were days when she refused to clean him with her tongue, hoping that he would lose his temper, but it never worked. The refusal always brought harsh punishment, but never severe enough to kill her. He was never even upset about it, treating her rebellion with the same detached annoyance one might treat a stuck door or a clogged toilet. Today she didn't bother resisting, lapping the blood, shit and semen off him until she could taste nothing but hair and greasy flesh.

She couldn't even glare at him while she did it. Her head pointed down, and she couldn't raise it very far. Leah had never even seen her kidnapper's face. She knew that he was Caucasian, slightly pudgy, and had sandy brown hair, but everything else remained a mystery. She didn't know what his voice sounded like either. Other than soft grunts or sighs when he ejaculated, he had never spoken a word.

Occasionally the cleaning made him hard again, and was immediately followed by oral sex. This proved to be one of those days, and for a span of time he calmly pumped his dick in and out of her throat. When he came, most of his seed spilled out her mouth and onto the floor. Once he was soft again, and she'd cleaned him a second time, he withdrew and picked up a roll of toilet paper that sat on the ground next to her.

With quick efficiency, he mopped up the stray drops of semen. She tried to crane her head to look at him, but could see only his arm and the back of his head. He wiped more cum that had leaked from her asshole down her legs, then balled up the toilet paper and placed it in her mouth. Once again, she followed the unspoken command, chewing and swallowing the soggy mess.

After that, he placed a bucket beneath her to use as a toilet and left the room, leaving Leah nothing to do but stare at the floor. Simple varnished hardwood, with no distinguishing features. If she strained, she could lift her head high enough to see the windowless wall in front of her, but there was nothing much there either, just a plain blue wallpaper.

This boredom was how most of her time was spent. Her captor had no interest in toying with her or abusing her. Unless his dick was hard or he needed to pee, she was given as little attention as any other appliance in his house that wasn't in use.

As time stretched out in a familiar crawl, Leah's mind returned to the time before, the life she had more and more trouble remembering these days. She still recalled the end in perfect detail though. The silent bridge at night. The dark waters that had waited.

She'd taken off her shoes there, the metal cold on her bare feet and stared into the void below. She'd accepted what was about to happen. She'd understood that these were the last few moments of her life, and that was what she wanted. She'd stepped forward, into the empty air and the promise of oblivion.

But it hadn't worked. At the last moment, he had grabbed her, pulled her back to “safety”. Leah had no idea if he'd been stalking her, waiting for the right moment to strike, or if he'd simply seen her there by happenstance and decided to seize the opportunity. All she knew was that he'd struck her, hard, and she'd blacked out. And when she woke up, she was here, mutilated and nailed into position.

No one was out there looking for her, she was certain of that. She'd left a note and everything. The police weren't going to dredge a river just to confirm another suicide. The only person in the entire world who knew she was still alive was him.

He showed up a few more times during the day to use her. The first time was just to urinate again, but the second time was for her daily meal. The food was the same liquid mush as always. Leah couldn't identify the ingredients, but she guessed it was dry dog food put through a blender and mixed with water.

She was force fed through a rubber tube that he inserted into her mouth and down her throat. The other end connected to the plastic bag filled with mush, which he squeezed to force the food through the tube and into her stomach. The sole mercy was that she never had to taste it.

Two of the visits were to rape her again. One was the same anal rape and cleaning as the morning ritual. The other time he unlocked the dildo in her pussy from the pole and pulled it out of her so he could take her there.

She was dry, but the constant presence of the dildo kept her loose, and he sank completely into her on the first thrust. He held her legs up with his hands as he raped her, keeping her upright. Unlike when he used her other holes, he wore a condom whenever he did this, probably not wanting to worry about pregnancy.

Leah felt him twitch slightly, his even pace faltering for a second, and then his dick begin to shrink. He slipped out of her, replaced the dildo, and left. She continued to stare at the floor.

Sometimes she wondered if he really had stopped her from killing herself. Maybe she had stepped off that bridge after all. Maybe hell was this endless existence as a non-person.

The room grew dark, the only way she could get a sense of time. She waited longer, until she could no longer see even the floor. He rarely came to use her when it was this late.

It wasn't that she wanted him to show up. But that he didn't even care enough about her to tell her when he was done with her for the day, that she had to just wait in this anticlimactic silence... she never felt less like a human being than during those empty nights.

There was nothing left to do but wait for sleep to arrive. It wasn't easy, not with her sore genitals or her stiff muscles, but sometime in the dead of night exhaustion would overtake her as it always did, until he arrived in the morning to start a new day. Another day like all the others, in a long line that she knew would last for the rest of her life.

Leah prayed that tomorrow would be the day she died.