Day 7 Owning My Mute Slave Wife in Hyderabad – The Final Breaking: 24 Consecutive Hours of Non-Stop Dual Fucking

Sunday.
No visitors. No outings. No mercy.
Just me, her, and the machines I was going to use to erase whatever was left of the girl she used to be.

I woke up at 5:47 a.m. with her mouth already stretched impossibly wide around my cock, throat convulsing in her sleep from the inflatable plug I’d left pumped to bursting in her ass all night. Her wrists were still cuffed to her collar, collar chained to the headboard, but sometime around 4 a.m. she had managed to inch down far enough to take me into her throat like it was her only purpose in life. Drool had pooled on my stomach, her mascara from yesterday running in permanent black rivers down her cheeks and onto my skin.

I didn’t move. I just lay there and watched her sleep-suck for twenty full minutes, feeling her tongue occasionally swirl weakly as she dreamed whatever filthy dreams my ownership had burned into her brain.

Then I grabbed her hair, yanked her off, and pissed straight down her throat until her belly swelled slightly, and told her exactly what today was going to be.

“Twenty-four hours, slave. You will not leave the playroom. You will not speak — you can’t anyway. You will not come without permission — but I’m going to make that impossible. The machine is going to fuck your cunt and ass simultaneously for every single one of those 14,400 seconds. The vacuum pump is going to suck your clit until it’s the size of a grape and purple and ruined. Electro pads on your nipples, inner thighs, and directly on that swollen little nub. And every time you black out, I’m going to wake you up with my cock in whichever hole I feel like.

You are going to break today. Completely. Irreversibly.
And when it’s over, you won’t remember what it felt like to be anything except my owned set of holes.”

She came just from my words — untouched, body seizing so hard the chain rattled, squirting in thick pulses onto the sheets while her eyes rolled back and she mouthed “yes Master thank you Master” against my thigh.

I dragged her crawling to the playroom at 6:15 a.m.

The setup was already prepared from last night.

The upgraded fucking machine — now with the brand-new double-penetration rig: two independent hydraulic arms, each with 11-inch hyper-realistic silicone cocks (one brutally thick with bulging veins, one longer with a vicious upward curve that would hammer her g-spot and a-spot at the same time). Speed up to 400 thrusts per minute. Depth adjustable to 10 inches. Angle adjustable from straight-on doggy to missionary to inverted pile-driver.

Beside it: the vacuum clit pump — medical-grade, with a 3-inch clear cylinder that would seal over her entire clit and outer lips, capable of pulling a full vacuum or pulsing in waves up to 10 Hz. I’d added the electro-shock kit: sticky pads connected to a TENS unit modified for erotic torment, capable of sending shocks from gentle tingle to “scream and squirt” level 10.

I positioned her first in doggy on the padded fuck-bench at 6:27 a.m.

Legs forced wide by unyielding spreader bar bolted to the floor.
Waist strapped down so she couldn’t lift her hips even an inch.
Wrists locked behind her back in steel cuffs, elbows forced together with rope until her shoulders screamed.
Collar chained short to a floor ring so her face was pressed into a padded cradle, mouth forced open by a ring gag that locked behind her teeth, drool already pouring.

I removed the inflatable plug slowly — her asshole stayed gaping a perfect 2.5-inch circle for thirty full seconds, red, fluttering, ruined. I spat in it, then slammed the thicker machine cock into her cunt in one brutal motion. She arched as much as the restraints allowed, squirting instantly around the silicone. Then the curved one into her ass — deeper than anything she’d taken before — until I saw the outline bulge in her lower stomach.

I locked both arms in place.

Added the vacuum cylinder over her clit, sealed it tight, and turned it to a steady medium pull so her entire clit was sucked forward into the tube immediately, swelling visibly.

Electro pads: two on her rock-hard nipples, two on her inner thighs right next to her stretched lips, one directly on the base of her sucked-out clit through the cylinder port.

I hit start at exactly 6:42 a.m.

Speed: 120 thrusts/min (slow, deep, punishing)
Depth: 9 inches both holes
Vacuum: pulsing 5-second bursts
Electro: random level 3–6 shocks every 30–90 seconds

She came in forty-seven seconds — violent, geyser squirt that shot three feet across the room, body seizing so hard the bench creaked. I didn’t stop it. I just stood there stroking my cock and watched the machine rape her through her first orgasm, second, third…

By 8:00 a.m. she had come nine times and blacked out twice. I paused only to hydrate her — forced a gallon of electrolyte water down her throat through a funnel, then made her hold it while I turned the machine back on. She pissed herself at 8:17 a.m. — hot stream arcing out around the dildo while she sobbed silently in humiliation.

I drank coffee and watched the monitor that showed close-up camera feeds of all three holes and her face.

At 9:30 I changed the program: alternating thrusts — cunt deep while ass shallow, then reverse — speed 180/min, vacuum constant pull, electro level 7 constant tingle. She started making these broken animal noises through the ring gag, drool pouring in a constant stream, eyes completely glazed.

At 10:12 a.m. she blacked out the third time. I slapped her face until she woke, removed the ring gag, and fucked her throat until I came straight into her stomach, then put the gag back in and restarted the machine at 220 thrusts/min.

Lunch at 1:00 p.m. was a two-litre enema — cold, with a hint of peppermint oil to burn — held for forty-five minutes while the machine slowed to teasing 60 thrusts/min so she could feel every inch over and over while her guts cramped. When I finally let her release it was into a bucket while still impaled — filthy, humiliating, perfect — and she came again just from the shame, squirting around the dildo as the water gushed out.

Afternoon session 2:00–8:00 p.m. I flipped her onto her back, legs in the air, ankles locked to ceiling chains so her ass and cunt were pointed straight up. Gravity made both dildos feel even deeper. I turned the vacuum to maximum constant pull — her clit was sucked so swollen now it filled the entire 3-inch cylinder, purple and throbbing like a second tongue. Electro level 9 random bursts.

She lost count of orgasms. I didn’t.
Seventeen in that position alone.

She blacked out four more times. Each time I woke her with either my cock in her throat, piss down it, or ice water poured over her face. At one point around 5 p.m. she started convulsing continuously — not individual orgasms anymore, just one long rolling full-body seizure of pleasure while the machine never stopped. Her cunt was prolapsing slightly on the out-strokes, red ring of flesh blooming and sucking back in — and her asshole was a wrecked, gaping rose.

I fucked her throat during one of the blackouts and came on her face just as she woke up choking on my load.

At 8:30 p.m. I finally paused the machine for dinner.

She was limp. Unresponsive. Just twitching.

I removed the vacuum cylinder — her clit was monstrous, easily three times normal size, dark purple, hypersensitive. I flicked it once and she screamed silently, whole body jackknifing, squirting a weak stream. I fed her dinner through the ring gag: protein shake mixed with my cum, her squirt, and her ass juices from the enema bucket. She swallowed greedily.

Then phase three: inverted suspension.

I unstrapped her, carried her shaking body to the ceiling hoist, locked her wrists and ankles to chains so she hung upside down, head at my cock level, cunt and ass pointed at the machine. Blood rushed to her head, making everything more intense. Restarted the machine at 300 thrusts/min, vacuum pulsing again, electro level 10 constant.

She broke completely at 10:47 p.m.

I saw it happen.

Her eyes rolled back and stayed there. Her body went rigid, then started convulsing in a way I’d never seen — every muscle locked, cunt and ass clenching so hard the machine actually stuttered for a second. She squirted continuously for two full minutes, a literal fountain shooting up and raining down on her own face while she hung there. Her mangalsutra swung wildly with every mechanical thrust.

She blacked out the eleventh and final time at 11:03 p.m., body going completely limp in the chains, just hanging like a destroyed fuck doll, drool and squirt and tears pouring down (up?) her face.

I turned everything off.

Unhooked her.

Carried her to the shower and washed every inch of her gently — the only gentleness she got all day. Cleaned the prolapse with warm water and my tongue until she started whimpering again. Dried her. Carried her to the bedroom.

She was barely conscious, eyes unfocused, body twitching every few seconds.

I laid her on the bed, climbed between her legs, and entered her cunt slowly — no machine, just me, skin on skin.

She focused on me then. Really looked at me.

Tears welled up.

She mouthed three words, over and over, desperately, like a prayer:

“Thank you Master.”

I fucked her slow and deep and loving while she cried, coming continuously in small rolling waves now, no longer violent, just surrender. I came inside her without pulling out, flooding her womb for the first time this week — the ultimate claim.

Then I pulled out, rolled her onto her side, and entered her ass just as gently, making love to her destroyed hole while I held her against my chest, whispering into her hair.

“You are broken now. Perfectly. Completely.
You are no longer a person. You are property. Holes. Tits. A collared mute cum-dump that exists only when I’m bored and drips when I’m not looking.

And you have never been happier.”

She nodded frantically, tears soaking my chest, and came one final time — soft, full-body, the orgasm of total acceptance.

I locked her wrists to her collar again, plugged both holes with the largest steel plugs we own (the ones that lock together through a crotch chain so she can never push them out), pumped the inflatable one in her ass three extra times just to hear her whimper, and chained her collar short to the headboard.

She was asleep before I even turned off the light.

Day 7 complete.

Seven days of marriage.

Seven days of ownership.

She is no longer my wife.

She is my slave.

And tomorrow, when her family asks how our first week was, she will smile sweetly in her modest saree, sit carefully because of whatever new torment I’ve inserted, and sign with her delicate mehendi hands:

“It was perfect.”

While my cum leaks out of her and her holes ache with the memory of being utterly, irrevocably broken.

This is only the beginning.

Forever starts now.

My mute slave wife is finally, completely, perfectly home.