The Night I Truly Broke Her

I still remember the night I broke her completely.

It wasn’t planned, not really. It just happened the way a storm happens — sudden, violent, unstoppable. Her name was Lana, twenty-four, long black hair, pale skin that bruised so beautifully, and those wide green eyes that always looked like they were begging even when her mouth was saying no. She’d been flirting with the idea of submission for months on those dark little forums, dropping hints in my DMs, sending pictures of her wrists in rope, her ass marked with faint red lines from a belt she’d used on herself. She wanted the real thing. She wanted me.

I invited her over on a Friday when the city was raining hard enough to drown out screams. She showed up in a thin black dress, no bra, nipples already hard from the cold, soaked through so the fabric clung to every curve. I didn’t speak when I opened the door. I just grabbed a fistful of that wet hair and yanked her inside. She gasped, stumbled, but didn’t fight. Her purse hit the floor with a wet thud. I slammed her back against the wall, my hand already around her throat, not squeezing yet, just owning the space where her pulse was racing.

“You sure about this, little girl?” I growled low against her ear.

She nodded, trembling. “Yes, Sir.”

That word. Fuck. It went straight to my cock.

I kissed her then, brutal, teeth clashing, biting her bottom lip until I tasted copper. She moaned into my mouth like a whore in heat. My free hand slid under that soaked dress and found her bare underneath, no panties, just slick, dripping cunt. I laughed darkly against her lips.

“Already fucking soaked. You really are a desperate little slut, aren’t you?”

She whimpered, nodding again.

I dragged her by the hair down the hallway to my bedroom. The lights were low, just one lamp in the corner casting long shadows. I’d prepared everything earlier: cuffs on the bedposts, rope coiled on the nightstand, a thick black collar with a silver ring, plugs and clamps and toys laid out like instruments. Her eyes went wide when she saw it all, but her thighs pressed together like she was trying to ease the ache between them.

“Strip,” I ordered.

Her hands shook as she peeled the wet dress off. Gorgeous body, full tits with pale pink nipples begging to be abused, narrow waist, hips made for bruising grip, and that perfect shaved pussy already glistening. I let her stand there naked and shivering while I circled her slowly, predator and prey.

“On your knees.”

She dropped instantly. Good girl.

I unbuckled my belt slow, let the leather slide through the loops with that threatening hiss. Her breath hitched. I wrapped the belt around her throat like a leash, buckled it just tight enough that she’d feel it every time she swallowed. Then I unzipped, pulled my cock out already hard and heavy, and fed it to her without warning. She gagged immediately, eyes watering, but I didn’t let her pull back. I fucked her throat slow and deep, watching mascara run down her cheeks in black rivers.

“That’s it. Choke on it. This is what you came here for, isn’t it? To be used like a filthy fucktoy.”

She moaned around my shaft, nodding as best she could with her throat full.

I used her mouth for a long time, until her jaw ached and drool was dripping off her chin onto her tits. Then I pulled out, slapped her face with my wet cock a few times just to watch her flinch and blush darker.

“Beg me.”

“Please, Sir… please fuck me. I need it so bad.”

“Need what?”

“Your cock. Please. I’m your slut. Use me however you want.”

I hauled her up by the belt-collar and threw her face-down on the bed. She landed with a muffled cry. I bound her wrists to the headboard with the cuffs, quick and tight, then spread her legs and locked her ankles to the corners. Ass up, face buried in the sheets, completely exposed. I stood behind her just admiring the view: pink pussy lips swollen and dripping, little pink asshole twitching like it knew what was coming.

I started with my hand. Hard, bare-handed spanking until her ass was bright red and she was sobbing into the pillow. Every slap made her cunt clench and leak more. I’d stop just long enough to slide three fingers into her sopping hole, curl them, make her scream, then pull out and spank her again for being such a greedy whore.

“You’re dripping down your thighs, baby. You love this. You love being my pain slut.”

“Yes, Sir! Fuck, yes!”

When her ass was glowing and hot to the touch, I grabbed the lube and the medium plug, thick black silicone with a jeweled base. I pressed it against her tight little hole without warning. She tensed, whimpered.

“Relax or it’s going in dry.”

She forced herself to breathe, to push back, and I worked it in slow, watching her asshole stretch around it until it popped in and she screamed into the mattress. Her whole body shook. I gave her ten seconds to adjust, then flipped her over onto her back (wrists still cuffed above her head) and shoved my cock into her cunt in one brutal thrust.

Jesus fucking Christ she was tight. Hot and wet and clenching like she was trying to milk me dry. The plug made her even tighter. I fucked her like I hated her, hips slamming, balls slapping against the base of the plug. Her tits bounced with every thrust, nipples hard as diamonds. I leaned down and bit one, hard enough to leave teeth marks, then sucked it brutally while I pounded her into the mattress.

“Look at me,” I snarled.

Her tear-stained eyes locked on mine, mouth open in a constant stream of broken moans and curses and pleas.

“Who owns this cunt?”

“You do, Sir! Fuck, you own me!”

I reached down and rubbed her clit roughly while I drilled her. She came almost instantly, back arching off the bed, pussy spasming so hard around my cock I nearly lost it. But I didn’t. I pulled out right as she was still shaking and shoved my slick cock straight into her mouth again, making her taste herself.

“Clean it, slut.”

She sucked greedily, tongue swirling, gagging but never stopping.

When I was close I pulled out, flipped her again, and yanked the plug out with a wet pop. Her hole gaped for a second, pink and open and begging. I didn’t give her time to think. I lined up and pushed my cock into her ass in one long, relentless thrust.

She screamed. Full-throated, raw, animal. I didn’t stop until my balls were pressed against her dripping pussy. Then I started fucking her ass like I was trying to ruin it. Hard, punishing strokes, one hand fisted in her hair yanking her head back, the other reaching around to pinch and twist her clit.

“Take it. Take every fucking inch in your dirty little asshole.”

She was beyond words now, just sobbing and moaning and pushing back against me like the greedy anal whore she was born to be. I felt her cum again, pussy clenching on nothing, ass gripping me so tight I saw stars. That pushed me over. I buried myself deep and unloaded, pumping rope after rope of hot cum into her bowels until it was leaking out around my cock.

I stayed inside her a long moment, both of us panting, then pulled out slow and watched my cum drip from her gaping, ruined hole. Beautiful.

But I wasn’t done.

I uncuffed her wrists, dragged her limp body to the floor, and made her clean my cock with her mouth again, ass to mouth, no hesitation. She did it like it was the most natural thing in the world. My perfect little broken toy.

After that night she moved in two weeks later. Collared 24/7. Sleeping at the foot of my bed in a cage when she misbehaved. Waking me with her mouth every morning. Wearing plugs to work under her office clothes because I told her to. Sending me pictures from bathroom stalls of her fingers in her cunt when I texted “now.”

Some nights I tie her spread-eagle and edge her for hours, vibrators and feathers and ice cubes until she’s crying and begging and offering me anything, anything, if I’ll just let her cum. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I fuck her throat while she’s still shaking from denial and cum down it just to watch her swallow gratefully.

She’s mine now. Completely. Body, mind, soul. Every hole, every tear, every scream and squirt and shudder. And she’s never been happier.

That’s the thing about real submission. It’s not a game. It’s not roleplay on weekends. It’s surrender. Total. Permanent. And once a woman tastes that, once she’s been truly owned, truly broken and rebuilt around a man’s cock and will… she never wants to go back.

I ruined her for anyone else.

And she thanks me for it every single day. On her knees. Mouth open. Eyes shining.

Just the way I like her.