She Broke Him in Front of His Family
Chanel stood in the doorway of her in-laws’ elegant dining room, one hand resting possessively on her swollen, 8-month-pregnant belly. The tight white dress clung to every curve, accentuating her full breasts and the unmistakable roundness that screamed fertility. She looked radiant, powerful, unstoppable. Tonight wasn’t about celebration—it was about destruction.
The entire family was there: Mark’s conservative parents, his judgmental sister, aunts, uncles, cousins—all gathered for what they thought was a sweet pregnancy announcement. Mark, her white husband of nine years, sat at the head of the table beaming like a fool, proud of the “miracle” growing inside his wife. He had no idea the child wasn’t his.
As dessert plates were cleared, Chanel rose slowly, commanding silence without a word. She placed both hands on her belly, stroking it lovingly.
“I’m eight months pregnant,” she announced, voice calm and cruel. “But the baby isn’t Mark’s.”
Gasps rippled through the room. Mark’s smile froze, then shattered. His mother clutched her pearls; his father’s face turned ashen.
Chanel continued, eyes locked on her trembling husband. “For years I’ve been fucking a real man—a black man. His cock is thick, long, powerful. He breeds me properly. Mark’s little white dick could never satisfy me. This baby is proof of who owns this pussy now.”
Mark’s eyes filled with tears. “Please… Chanel… don’t do this… I love you…” He slid from his chair to his knees in front of everyone. “Don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. Please.”
She laughed—a soft, mocking sound that echoed in the stunned silence. “Leave? Oh no, baby. You’re not going anywhere. You can stay… as my subby little cuck. You’ll watch. You’ll serve. You’ll clean up after he fucks me. And you’ll thank me for the privilege.”
The family stared in horrified fascination as Chanel stepped forward, lifting Mark’s chin with one manicured finger. “Say it. Tell everyone you accept your place.”
Through sobs, he whispered, “I… I accept it. I’m your cuck.”
Satisfied, Chanel turned to the room. “Show’s over. But the real fun starts tonight.”
Later that night, after the shell-shocked family fled, her black lover arrived. Tall, muscular, dominant. Chanel greeted him in nothing but lingerie that barely contained her pregnant curves. Mark knelt in the corner, naked except for the chastity cage she’d locked on him weeks earlier.
She rode her bull on their marital bed, moaning loudly, praising his size, his stamina, his seed. “This is what a real man feels like,” she gasped as he filled her again and again. Mark whimpered, leaking in his cage, unable to look away.
When her lover finished, Chanel beckoned Mark over. “Clean me up, cuck. Taste what a superior man left inside your wife.”
Humiliated, broken, and utterly devoted, Mark obeyed. Chanel stroked her belly, smiling. This was her life now—and she loved every degrading second of it.
