She sobbed. Once she'd have had more fight, but now she felt nothing but despair. She'd kill herself but they'd not let her. Every day was pure torture. They never seemed to grow bored of it. They seemed to know exactly how to get to her and there was never any end in sight.

She was not tortured for information. Nor was she serving a sentence for a crime. No judge had ordered her to be taken down. No villain had monologed before handing her over to his henchmen. She had simply woken up there in a cage. They'd made it perfectly clear she was there for life, and that was going to last as long as possible. If she asked why they beat her. If she begged they beat her. She was allowed four words, "Yes, Master," and "Thank you, Master."

The first days had been the worst. The terror of waking in the cage. The hooded men dragging her out. The first rape of countless others. They had all used her. Every orifice. They'd beaten her, whipped her. Then stretched her out on the rack and branded her. SLAVE. WHORE. SLUT. RAPE HERE. SPANK THIS. BEAT THESE. FUCK THIS. All over her body, the burning irons had been pressed deep into her flesh. She had stopped screaming halfway through the ordeal, her voice gone. Shouted hoarse she simply sobbed at the brutality.

The piercings had followed straight after. Her nipples, her septum, her labia all had large grabbable rings set deep within. Her tongue had four large studs fixed through it. Her anus was penetrated by the first of a succession of plugs that have steadily grown in size. Her anus gapes now when it is removed.

Writhing in agony, from the piercings and the brands, they had dragged her over to the anvil. Heavy iron manacles, shackles and a tight, tall iron collar were all riveted in place. The blows of the hammer sending shock waves through the fetters to bite. All were interconnected with chain. No locks were used. They were never coming off.

Initiated but unfit to use, they hooked a chain to her manacles. With this, they lowered her down a circular shaft five foot across but at least fifteen foot deep. Once she was unhooked the chain was pulled up and a grate thrown over the top.

They left her there for six weeks. Water trickled in through a hole four foot up from the floor. If she held her face to the wall she could drink it. What she did not drink, along with her own excrement and urine, flowed out a small fist-sized grill in the middle of the floor. Food; magot infested meat, mouldy bread and rotten fruit was thrown randomly through the grate. What she could not stomach, along with her own faeces, had to be pushed with her fingers through the grill. Else she had to lie in it as she slept.

Brands and piercings healed they dragged her out. They raped her again. Mouth and anus in unison. They put her in a large wooden wheel; a treadmill. The whip kissed her back if she walked too slow. They took her out from time to time to fuck her, to beat her, or to set her tasks. Scrub the floor. Wash these plates. Suck this cock. Then at the end of some untimed shift, she was returned to her well.

That was every day. Every day was pain. Every day was drudgery. Every day was degradation. Every day was humiliation. Every day was misery.