Torture sex is for the man’s pleasure. As a fuck pig, I understand my place. I know I am here for whatever a man needs from punching bag to snuff doll. My step son is a man of cruel intentions. He has never liked me. I have been his punching bag since he was a school boy. In fact, he was the first man to break me. The irony was that he was no man at the time. Just a young teen boy. His hatred of me fueled his desire to make me his bitch. I had been married to his father less than a year when it first happened. My husband went out of the country for a week, leaving me in charge of my step son. Little did my husband know that that his young son was clearly the one in charge of me. This was before my husband and I had little ones of our own. A mommy never forgets the moment when her boy owns her. I had gone down to the basement because he informed me there was some sort of wounded animal trapped by the cellar door. As I walked down the dark stairs, he pushed me. I was the wounded animal. He chained me up. Put a collar on me and told me he was in charge now. I was scared. He denied me light, food, even water. My only diet for several days was his piss and cum. He fucked my ass repeatedly, even smacked me around and fisted my fuck holes. I was not leaving my basement dungeon until I said, “You own me. I am your bitch.” I fought it for a few days, but then I grew weak and a little crazy from sensory deprivation. He broke me. I have been his ever since. He is in his 20s now, but stronger and way crueler than ever.
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