When she woke up, she knew something was wrong. Still sleepy and sore, she had to think for a minute to realize what that was: she was on a bed, with silky sheets, not on the cold, hard, soiled conrete floor in her cage. sherealized what that meant, what day it was and she began crying immediately.

He must have heard because he came in, bringing her breakfest – a toast, bacon with horsereddish, a bit of greek cheese with cranberry, she thanked him quickly and began eating. It tasted so well. No sperm. Everything prepared just how she liked it. She recalled the last time, seven months ago when she tried to eat something normal and opened the fridge when he was away. He pulled one of her teeth out for it, after a heavy whipping session, of course. Recalling that she almost spat out the food but managed to finish it off.

He smiled and told her to go wash herself. Immediately she began crawling to the bathroom but she noticed his steely stare and got up on her feet. On this day she didn’t crawl. She quickly cleaned up, washing herself from the grime and cum stains she accumulated and then she was told to dress up.

That was always a trap. If she wore something too modest, he would get angry. Wearing something too slutty on this day would also make him angry. In the end she decided to wear an emeral top and a jeans skirt going to her knees. Plus, white shoes with a small heel and… and… panties plus bra. She almost forgot how those felt.

Then they went for a walk. A nice, long, romantic walk, along the river bank, through the lantern-lit bridge and to a nice, romantic cafe, where she took red mango tea. So many nice, laughing people, people who would probably help her, save her but what if they didn’t, what if it was all an elaborate trap and they were all his friends? Or if they saved her and he escaped and returned later to punish her for that? She tried escaping once, he pierced her clit and put a ring through it that he then chained to a ring in the floor. And even if all worked well… what would happen to her sister?

So she smiled, she drank team, she went to a restaurant, ate shrimp in peanut sauce and didn’t even have to suck the waiter off. Then they went back home where he showed her the cake he made himself and she ate it and it was so good and she wanted to spit it out or puke but she ate it and thanked him.

Then he asked her if she would like to go to bed and she said that yes, she would love, she would fuck him anyway he wanted, that this slut lived to serve his dick and he asked if she REALLY wanted to get intimate and she assured him that she REALLY wanted NOTHING ELSE but to satisfy his cock however he wanted, that she would ride him with her ass or deepthroat him until she passed out and he smiled and told her that it sounds dirty and he was sure that on THIS DAY she would like some gentle love making and she almost cried.

There was long foreplay and he kissed her nipple (she realized that in the night he removed the nipple piercings, she was so out of it, she didn’t even realize) and he played with her pussy and kissed her arms and wrists the way she loved it and she couldn’t get wet but she still begged him to push his cock into her and then she couldn’t orgasm so she cried even more as he kissed her and told her it was ok. Then he pulled out without cumming and she begged him to keep fucking her but he just smiled and said that if she wasn’t in the mood, he wouldn’t insist.

Then he asked what kind of gift she would like. She knew better than to ask him to let her go, she did that the first time and she still sometimes woke up screaming having nightmares of what he did to punish her for that. So, in a trembling voice, checking to see if he’s mad, she asked if she can speak to her sister.

Of course she could, he was prepared for such a request. He called her and gave her the phone and they talked for fifteen minutes, for rather she talked for two minutes and she was crying for thirteen as her sister told her about the farm, about the dogs, pigs, donkeys and horses, about how big their cocks are, how brutal they are, how their cum tastes and how come she only has one master and that her sister wants to swap places with her and that she needs to tell her master that her sister will be a much better fuck, a much more skilled and obedient, prettier fuckslave if only he takes her in and sends his slave to the farm in her place.

She didn’t want to tell him that, but what if he learned some other way? So she told him, but he just laughed and stroke her hair saying that she doesn’t have to worry about it on THIS DAY. Then he said it was time for her to go to sleep and she cried.

She cried because of all her sister was going through.

She cried because her sister hated her and wanted to swap with her.

She cried because she was worried her master would agree.

She cried because she knew tomorrow THIS DAY will be over and she will be back to sleeping on cold floor, eating only cum or food with cum, drinking cum and piss, she will be raped in all holes, whipped, burnt and electrocuted. She will have to ride her master with her ass as he twists her nipple piercings, she will get fucked in her cunt as he pulls the leash attached to her clit-ring, she will get facefucked until she loses cosciousness.

She cried because she knew that apart from the normal abuse she received every day, tomorrow, as soon as the clock strikes midnight, she would get viciously punished for everything she did wrong on THIS DAY, for almost vomiting on normal food, for crawling instead of walking, maybe for choosing wrong outfit, for looking as if she wanted to beg people on the walk and in the restaurant to save her, for not getting wet and not coming when he fucked – made love – her and generally for being a pathetic cunt and not being happy enough to see all the things he did to make THIS DAY perfect.

She cried because THIS DAY was the third anniversary of the day her master killed her father and brother, sold her sister to the farm and kept her for herself. It was the third anniversary and she barely remembered how she was before this, she barely remembered being anything but a pathetic fuckslave, painslut and cumdump and she preferred it this way, she would prefer for THIS DAY, THIS ANNIVERSARY not to exist as at least it would make accepting her fate easier.

Most of all she cried because she knew this was her fate – years of abuse, rape and degradation in between “celebrating” anniversaries, like on THIS DAY.

8 thoughts on “This Day

    1. Hmmm.

      Hard choice. Probably “This Day” because the psychological torture is just amazing… but the other is… sexier? Idk. They aren’t very similar so they are hard to compare.

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    2. I think the concept of “This Day” is more creative and interesting, while “Fucking, Raping, Hurting” has more sexy content. Both are excellent in their own way 😉

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  1. While mostly being a dubcon guy, reading rougher stuff has been my kink too, thanks to John for making me realize that. Were I to choose beetween the two of recent stories, I’d probably go with This Day as I find the concept of psychological terror/living in fear more compelling than outright beating and brutality, though the latter can be captivating too, if written well.

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