Note and disclaimer: my toy is on vacation for a bit, which leaves me with enough time on my hands to revisit some old work. A while ago I was inspired to come up with the following by somebody who read my previous stories. While I usually don't use names in my stories to help with immersion, I named the ragdoll after the person who inspired it. It's open ended, perhaps even unfinished, so there might be a part 2 down the line if there's enough interest. Who knows :) Edit to add: feedback, criticism, comments, messages and ideas are always welcome

Danielle wasn't sure if she was happy or not, but at least she felt appreciated. Some might have called her boyfriend abusive, some might have considered it a red flag how he constantly talked down to her. She even had some doubts about what he called cute little nicknames for her. Dumb cunt. Stupid whore. Fragile bitch. Naive. Worthless slut. But he never got angry at her, and that was more than could be said about any other man she'd been with.

It started with slapping her ass during sex, which she enjoyed. It turned into slapping her tits, and then her face, which she enjoyed less. He liked choking her and when she allowed herself to fully surrender to it she enjoyed that too. But then the flat hand turned into the back of his hand, and in time that became a fist. She had to dress more carefully to hide the bruises, and had to call in sick to work a few times when he'd punched her in the face hard enough that makeup couldn't cover it. But it was never out of anger, and that was important. He enjoyed it, and he appreciated her for it. He sometimes would stroke her face with a fingertip, or close his hand around her slender neck, tap her ribs with a playful finger, twist her arm behind her back while fucking her, and calling her "fragile" would become darker, more threatening, and more exciting. He always fucked her so much harder those times, and she really enjoyed that.

She was forcing his cock down her throat, eager to please, desperate to make him cum before it became too uncomfortable. She'd passed out from choking on his cock before, so she figured that the faster she could please him, the less likely it was to happen again. Her hair in his fist, she felt herself pulled onto his cock, and then pulled off again, doing her best to participate but knowing she lost control a long time ago. His cock came out of her mouth with a loud pop and she knew what was coming. They were well beyond slapping her face by now. The punch on her eye made her lose balance, feeling her high heels dig into her ass, trying to shift her weight to stay upright on her knees and failing. She tried to catch herself and heard a snap almost as much as she felt it, her arm buckling under her lightweight frame and folding under her body in a wrong direction. She could feel her eye swell from the punch but it was absolutely nothing compared to the white hot pain curling around her right arm.

She didn't remember screaming, or crying, or saying what the problem was, but found herself wrapped into his arms, his fingers carefully exploring her arm until they found the source of the agony. "Yeah, that's broken, my toy. Feels like it just snapped in half". She felt a sickening grinding sensation under her skin, a clicking of hard ragged edges rubbing together, and her arm felt unstable. She swallowed, her throat raw from screaming, the taste of his cock still on her tongue, tears flowing over her swollen cheek and the pain in her arm flaring up with every sob. "That is so sexy" She looked up, uncertain, assuming she misunderstood, but knew the look in his eyes all too well. He kissed her, something he'd hardly do these days, and she melted into him. She knew he'd take care of her and if he found her sexy even when she was a broken mess then that meant something. He rested his head against hers and looked at the pain in her eyes, carefully moving her broken arm. She moaned, she cried, she clenched her jaw to not scream out and then she felt his cock in the palm of her hand, harder than ever before. Looking into each other's eyes, she followed his lead and closed her fingers around him. The pain doubled in intensity when he started to stroke his cock with her hand, and when she tried to jerk him off she found her arm too broken, too weak and too painful to do so without help.

"I need a hospital" she whispered, aware of the bone fragments grinding together in her arm. He closed his eyes, enjoying the hottest handjob he'd ever had in his life, and disagreed. "No, my toy. This is perfect, this is wonderful. The hospital would ask questions, would call the police, would take you away from me. I can't let that happen, now that you're in such beautiful pain for me". She doubled her effort to move her hand up and down, pushing down the pain, ignoring the feeling that her arm was tearing itself apart, getting shredded from the inside by sharp bone pieces. He let go and she managed to put a faint smile on her pale lips, taking some pride in her ability to keep going. "You are so hot when you're broken and in pain. My pretty fragile little bird" His breathing got heavier and she squeezed harder, stroked faster, feeling irreparable damage being done inside her body, but she knew it didn't matter. His hand closed on the fracture like a vise and he groaned as she screamed, a hot shot of cum hitting her tits hard, the second shot splashing on her stomach. The world was nothing but agony, flaring up like a supernova before black creeped in from the edges and she slumped over, passed out from pain.

She woke up in agony, the man who broke her arm fast asleep next to her. She remembered every vivid little detail, replaying in her mind over and over how it felt to use her broken arm to stroke a cock. The thought made her shudder and she considered leaving and going to the hospital. She figured she'd take her chances saying she tripped. When she shifted towards the edge of the bed she noticed two things that stopped her. First was the improvised splint that hugged her arm. She blushed when she recognized the bondage cuffs and the belt that was often used to give her a trashing, both wrapped around her arm and the canes he sometimes used on her ass, strapping her arm in place and keeping the fracture straight. It was both reassuring that he did want her to heal, and terrifying because it was further proof that she wouldn't be getting medical help. The other thing that stopped her was her good arm cuffed to the bed with a long chain. She wasn't going anywhere. After she had a soft cry, being careful not to wake her abuser, she laid back down into bed next to him. He rolled over, draped his arm around her and pulled her close, his cock twitching against her ass when she moaned in pain.

She woke up again with his cock inside her. Every thrust hurt her arm, but no amount of protesting and eventual begging made him slow down or go easier on her. Something else broke inside her. She could fool herself before, but this was rape. She told herself. "This man broke your arm, doesn't let you get medical help and now he's raping you". She knew there was no more way out, that it was only going to get worse from here. He must have seen something of her internal conversation in her eyes, because he smiled at her, wished her good morning, asked how her arm was feeling, all while raping her cunt. And when she didn't answer he hit her hard in the mouth, so she tasted blood when he asked her the same question again and she answered that her arm was feeling better. He punched her again, came inside her and left. Slightly panicked because she didn't take her pill yesterday, but resigned to her fate, she realized she hadn't even lied. Her arm was feeling less painful and she had to admit that the improvised splint did the trick.

It was like this for a few uncomfortable days. He uncuffed her, let her use the bathroom and clean up, allowing her 15 minutes of hot water to soothe her broken body. He'd use her whenever he wanted, they'd watch movies together, he cooked for her and she sucked his cock. It wasn't the life she dreamed of as a little girl (though she sometimes admitted to herself that it was not too far off from her dark fantasies) but it was a routine and a life. He occasionally even made her cum as a reward when she was a very good girl. As her arm healed badly it was constantly painful, and whenever she looked at it closely she could see it wasn't straight. She could close her hand again and lift her arm a little, but the damage was so extensive it remained mostly useless. She mourned the loss of her arm, knowing it'd never function right again.

And then, one evening while he was helping her stroke his cock with her half crippled hand, sending lightning bolts of pain through her body that by now also made her cunt drip, he put his other hand on her cheek and looked at her face with a small smile. "I've decided I enjoy this so much that we're not going to stop here, my pet" She stroked and squeezed a bit, looking at her Owner with questions in her eyes. "I want to break more, I am going to sculpt you, break you, make you so much better". She shook her head with eyes wide open. Shocked wasn't the right description, terrified was too mild, absolute horror came close but still didn't cover it. He wiped a black tear of cheap mascara and sadness from her constantly bruised and busted face. "It's okay, little girl, everything will be fine. Don't worry, you'll see how good it can be".

She was too frozen to do anything as he made her sit up on her knees, back straight. She screamed out when he twisted her broken arm behind her back, further and further, until she felt like her shoulder would dislocate. He secured her elbow to her midriff with a strip of duct tape, obviously prepared for the occasion, and then a hard punch to her shoulder actually dislocated it. She screamed and screamed and screamed, but that didn't stop him from taking her left arm and pulling it straight to the side. He put his knee against her elbow, one hand around her wrist from behind, the other on her shoulder. "It'll be beautiful, my rapemeat" and with that he pulled back hard, making her elbow bend the wrong direction. It strained, she could feel her tendons resisting tight as guitar strings, and her lower arm went further back. Further, further, and then with a hard pull she felt it break. Her arm folded double backwards as joints lost and her arm broke. She felt muscles tear, flesh rip, like a chicken wing getting pulled apart. There was no more breath left to scream and her vocal cords were in shreds. Her eyes were wide open and rolled back, only the whites still visible, and nothing but an inhuman moan escaped her lips when he pulled her arm onto her back and taped it to the other one. She looked like she just had her arms tied behind her back, but the angles were wrong and sharp edges of bone pushed outward against her skin. She was completely catatonic when he pried her jaw open to slide his cock into her mouth. She kept moaning until he invaded her throat, and with her head held in both hands she was too powerless to resist as he raped her face. "Good girl" the grunts came faster and faster, and her chest shocked up with every desperate but subconscious effort to breathe. "Such a good girl" he came in her throat, her mouth and her face. When he was done he wiped his cock clean with her hair, kicked her onto her side and walked out, leaving her helpless. She wouldn't use her arms anymore, ever again.

He returned an eternity later, cleaned up and dressed up, looking content. She felt like an ugly, worthless and useless contrast next to him. Curled up on the ground, cum stained, crying, her arms taped to her body. But when he looked down on her she saw affection and care, and her heart skipped a beat. And another when he got down on a knee, lowering himself to her level, several leather straps in hand. "We can't have you too damaged, my toy, we want you to heal and to last" his touch was light and gentle, but the agony was more intense than anything she'd felt in her short life when he removed the tape and moved her arms. She tried to lift them, but the shredded ligaments and broken bones didn't allow for more than a twitch. He looked at her with pity. "Don't do that, you won't be able to use them. And that's okay, I'll take care of you" his words were soft, caring, kind, while he looped one leather belt around her chest, under her perky tits, around her biceps and strapping her upper arms in place against her body. He pulled her wrists together behind her back and the ice cold numbness was replaced with so much pain it engulfed her world. Ignoring her screams, he put his knee in her back to pull her lower arms tighter together behind her, using another belt around her elbows to lever her broken limbs into place, her elbows touching behind her back. "It's all okay, my toy, we'll give your arms a break soon enough" the last strap going around her wrists, keeping them tight together just above her ass, then winding around her waist and tying her arms firmly in place. With every pull and tug on the leather belts, with every push on her broken arms, she could feel bone grind against bone, the sharp edges and shards pushing her skin outwards, but allowing so little movement that it felt tight and secure. He pulled her to her feet by her arm, and the world went spinning and turned black for a few seconds, but she managed to stay upright in her high heels. Closing his hand around her throat from behind, she could feel his semi hard cock pressing against her ass, into the palms of her hands, and she forced herself to stroke. Squeezing harder he whispered in her ear "We're only just getting started, my doll".

Life was very different from that moment on, but not necessarily bad. Dani experienced more tenderness and care than she had in any relationship before, as well as more pain and abuse than ever before. They started to merge, to combine into a new reality that meant that pain was pleasure, torture was care, abuse was affection, and her life was His. He let her rest at first, spending long days in bed, sleeping, feeling her arms go numb, her muscles weaken, her bones stick together in wrong angles and too many pieces. He'd help her find her balance without her arms, still in heels and unsteady, but more confident as she got more practice. She fell, a lot, but He seemed to enjoy that. He'd help her to her feet again, fix the cuts and wounds from hitting sharp corners of the furniture, check her for concussion whenever her head bounced off the hard tile floor, and would occasionally dislocate her shoulders and break the fractures all over again to pull her belts and restraints tighter. And he'd bathe her, feed her, let her drink, all the little things that requires hands she no longer had. She learned, she accepted, and once in a while she rebelled.

It was one of those moments when it just became too much. He had walked her to the bathroom like a bitch on a leash, the slippery tile of the bathroom floor always a challenge for her, but then carefully and gently lowered her into the bath. The water was too hot, but she bit her lip, feeling it burn her skin in silence. As he washed her with a sponge it just overwhelmed her. How useless she was, how helpless, how worthless she felt, so inferior and even unable to bathe on her own. She broke down crying and he pushed a couple of fingers into her cunt before pulling her head back by her hair with his other hand. "What's the matter, slut?" big sobs made her chest move in shallow shocks, the belt around her ribs now tight enough to make it hard to breathe. "I need a hospital, please, I'm scared, I want to be able to use my hands again, I don't want to be such a burden" it wasn't the first time she said it, but again once she started it all came out.. how worthless she felt, how broken, that she wouldn't tell anyone what had happened, to just dump her in front of the hospital at night and forget about her, that she was so sorry for being such a bad useless whore. He let her talk until she ran out of breath, tears running down her cheeks, looking up at her Owner with big sad eyes, and just as she was about to breathe in, he pushed her under.

With her hair in one fist, and fingers of his other hand lodged firmly inside her cunt, she slid down with her legs spread and over the edge of the tub. A mouthful of water flowed into her lungs. She couldn't even hold her breath, already having no air inside her. She kicked, she struggled, she twisted her body as much as she could and she felt the breaks in her arms shattering again. Trying to scream, the last bit of air in her lungs got replaced by more burning hot water and all thought left her mind when pure panic set in. Convinced she was bout to die, her body twitching and spasming, until she went limp. Her eyes and mouth wide open, just under the surface of the water, so close to sweet refreshing cool air that would give her life, she saw dark edges creep into her vision. And then she was pulled up and out of the water, one hand in her hair, the other in her cunt, lifted like a bag of rice and tossed across the room. Her head hit the wall first, cracking the tile and cracking her skull. Then her shoulder, shattering her clavicle and breaking a rib. She landed on her back, right on top of her broken arms, adding more fractures and snapping her wrists. But all she could do was throw up the clear water, coughing and rolling onto her back, expelling what felt like liters of hot water from her body so she could breathe in, get air, get oxygen, and scream in pain. He walked over to her, slowly, threatening, silent. Lifted his foot, and with a hard stomp down on her leg shattered her shin with the heavy boot. Lifted his foot again and stomped down again. And again. A little voice in the back of her mind, lost in the screaming, pointed out that she wouldn't even be able to walk anymore now. Another kick landed in her face, right under her eye, and she felt something snap before her head hit the broken tile again and she passed out.

It became more and more a habit to wake up not knowing where she was, with new injuries and new breaks. Her face felt swollen and hurt, her shoulders and collarbone felt wrong, like they were in the wrong place, and her leg felt stiff. Looking down she saw that her leg was carefully wrapped and tied to a splint keeping it straight. She didn't remember putting on new high heels and thigh high nylons, and they looked too sexy for the pain she was feeling, so her Owner must have dressed her before fixing up her leg. She smiled, feeling some tenderness towards the man who wanted her to look good even when she was mostly broken and useless. Smiling hurt, but it felt good. He came to visit her multiple times before he let her get out of bed. Every time either pulling her head to the edge of the bed so he could fuck her face or spreading her legs to use her cunt, the fresh pain almost making her pass out again. He fed her little bits, allowed her to drink small sips of water, took care of her when all she could do was lay in bed, watch some TV and soon enough wait and pray that her Owner would come back soon to fuck her again.

It was only a few days until he helped her out of bed and clipped a leash to a metal collar around her neck. Her poor leg could barely support her weight and even moving it without putting her weight onto it already hurt like a bitch, but his encouraging words and gentle pull on the leash made her stumble away from the bed and walk carefully towards the door. She fell once or twice on her way to the basement, and with no arms to break her fall she landed hard. Her hip, side, shoulder and face already started to show fresh bruises when she got to the top of the stairs and stopped, terrified. There was no way she'd be able to walk down the stairs in her state! She started to turn her head towards her Master to ask him for help, for advice, for the order to take a step anyway, anything.. but instead she only got a glimpse of his fist right before it landed on her broken cheek. She stepped sideways, into the void, with no floor where here foot landed, and she toppled sideways with her eyes wide open in shock and horror. She was practically upside down by the time her shoulder hit the hard edge of a step and almost made her bounce. The next contact with the stairs snapped her shin again. She tumbled down like a ragdoll, rolling down the hard unforgiving rough concrete to the sound of her screams, moans and several small bones breaking, ligaments tearing and her head hitting the edges and corners once or twice.

She laid motionless at the bottom of the stairs, blood on her lips, eyes wide open, one leg bent under her in an unnatural way. Her heart was miraculously still beating, her neck not broken, her skull mostly intact. She was even awake enough to feel every little ache, every break, every cut and scrape, and was laying it just the right angle to watch her Abuser come down the stairs with what looked like a length of rope and a baseball bat. She was turned on enough to look at the baseball bat and wish for Him to use it on her cunt. At least it meant he was paying attention to her, enjoying her, giving her a purpose. She was no longer laying in bed like a bored useless object, she was finally ready for more. She smiled again in spite of everything. Thanks to everything.