Fucking Unconscious Wife’s Ass- CNC —narrated by Ananya—who recounts the entire tale of fulfilling her deepest fantasy with her husband, Ishaan. After ten years of marriage, when sex life becomes stale, it becomes essential to reignite passion with new methods. In this story of fucking the unconscious wife’s asshole, you will read how Ananya asked her husband to treat her with complete brutality, drag her around like a toy, push her, and ruthlessly fuck her pussy, asshole, and mouth without any mercy. This story of fucking the unconscious wife’s ass is for all those couples who want to bring new excitement and experiences like anal sex into their bedroom life.
Part 1: Stagnation in the Bedroom After Ten Years and Confessing the True Fantasy
My name is Ananya. I am a 35-year-old woman, married to Ishaan for ten years. Our married life is very happy—Ishaan is an understanding, loving, and caring husband. But we haven’t had children yet, and this year we’ve planned to do something about it. However, even more important was the growing staleness in our sex life. Over ten years, no matter how good the sex life, a routine sets in. The same positions, the same places, the same methods. We loved each other, but the passion we had in the first few years of marriage was no longer there.
It was a Friday night. It was raining outside, and the room had only dim lighting. We had our routine sex—a few minutes of missionary, then a bit of cowgirl with me on top, and finally, in doggy style, Ishaan released his load on my back. We both reached orgasm, but the silence that followed was something that happened only occasionally. Ishaan sat up and looked at me seriously.
“Ananya, I know this is getting a bit boring.” There was a strange honesty in his voice. “I’m not saying sex with you isn’t good—you’re the most beautiful to me. But don’t you think the fire between us is dying out? I think before we start a family, we should try something different. I just don’t know what we can do.”
Hearing his words, my heart started beating faster. This was the opportunity I had been waiting for years. Taking a deep breath, I said, “Ishaan, there are some fantasies that we both have in our minds. I just never had the courage to tell you about my fantasy. I was afraid you’d think I was crazy.”
“Even after ten years?” Ishaan felt a little hurt hearing this. He held my hand. “Are there secrets between us? We’ve always shared everything with each other.”
Looking into his eyes, I said, “Do you have any fantasy that doesn’t involve another woman?” I knew that Ishaan sometimes thought about threesomes or swinging, and I wasn’t going to let him off that easily.
“To be honest, no.” Ishaan lowered his eyes, a little embarrassed. Then he smiled and said, “Alright, let’s do this. You tell me your fantasy, and I’ll tell you mine. Without any filter.”
Ishaan leaned back against the headboard, one leg straight and the other bent. He pulled me close, and my head rested on his chest. I could hear his heartbeat—fast, restless. Just like it used to be years ago before our first time. I thought, now or never.
Slowly pulling away from him, I looked straight into his eyes and said, “I’ve always had a fantasy of lying unconscious while someone has sex with me as if I’m just a toy. Not a violent or life-threatening fantasy, but one where my body is completely taken advantage of. I want someone to drag me, push me, treat me as ruthlessly as if I’m nothing but a body. I want you to use my asshole and pussy without thinking about how I feel. That’s all.”
For a few minutes, I thought I had shocked him. Ishaan sat silently, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. I started to shrink back, thinking he would find me weird or sick. But then a wide smile spread across his face.
“Your fantasy is way more intense than mine.” He ran his hand through my hair and said, “My fantasy is just to have sex in different places and in different ways. And to be honest, I know you’re a little hesitant about anal sex. But my main fantasy is to fuck your asshole hard, with you completely helpless.”
We both fell silent for a few moments. Raindrops were hitting the window, and the room was filled only with the sound of our breathing. I felt like we were crossing some invisible bridge. I looked at him and said, “You know, if I’m completely yours—unconscious and helpless—then you can do whatever you want with my body, and I can’t object. Nor can I tell you where to fuck me.”
Ishaan’s face lit up with joy. “Do you mean we can try both our fantasies together? You unconscious, and me having sex with you wherever and however I want? Your asshole too?”
“I don’t see any reason why not.” I smiled and said, “I’ll just need practice with anal sex. I need to learn to stay still while you’re rough with my backside. And you need to learn to treat me like I’m a corpse.”
“If we need to practice, we will. We want to do this right, don’t we? With full preparation.”
Part 2: Practicing Anal Sex and Gradually Preparing the Asshole
Ishaan jumped off the bed, went to the drawer, and brought back some lube. There was a wild gleam in his eyes that I had never seen before. He laid me on my stomach and, while gently caressing my buttocks, said, “I’ll go slowly so you don’t feel too much pain. We can take our time until you’re comfortable with this. Okay, get on your knees and rest your head on the pillow. Lift your backside up in the air and spread your legs.”
I did exactly as he said. My knees sank into the mattress, and my face was buried in the pillow. I stretched my arms above my head, like a gesture of surrender. My asshole was now completely exposed, and my pussy was already wet with arousal. To be honest, I was just as excited as he was. It felt good to see him so eager for me again—like in the early days.
Ishaan applied lube to the crack of my backside. The lubrication was cold, and his touch made me shiver. He probed my anal opening with his finger, massaging it in gentle circular motions. Then slowly, he inserted the tip of his finger inside. My breathing quickened, but I controlled myself. He was able to insert his finger into my backside much more easily than I had imagined. He moved his finger in and out of my anus until I stopped feeling uncomfortable. Slowly, pushing in and pulling out, like he was doing something delicate.
“Relax, Ananya. Take deep breaths.” There was a strange authority in his voice that excited me even more.
Then he inserted two fingers into my backside. At that moment, I jerked, and a painful moan escaped me. “Ah! Wait a moment, Ishaan.” But he didn’t stop—he just went slower. He inserted his other hand into my vagina and began searching for my clitoris. His wet, slippery fingers started making circular motions on my most sensitive spot.
This was a lot for me. On one hand, his two fingers were stretching my asshole; on the other, he was stroking my pussy. I couldn’t control my breathing. Meanwhile, just as I was on the verge of losing myself, he inserted a third finger into my asshole without any warning. Three fingers. In my asshole. I felt like I would tear apart, but at the same time, his other hand’s fingers were rubbing my clit, and that mixture of pain and pleasure was driving me crazy.
“Just… just, Ishaan… I’m going to cum…” I mumbled, my body trembling.
But he went faster. His three fingers were rapidly moving in and out of my asshole, and his other hand kept rubbing my clit until I reached orgasm with a big bang. My moans echoed through the room. I pressed my face harder into the pillow and let my body move.
When I calmed down, Ishaan pulled his fingers out and gave my asshole a gentle slap. “Good girl. Now you’re ready.”
Part 3: The Unconscious Game – First Time with the Full Cock in the Asshole
For the next two weeks, we continued such “practice.” Every night, Ishaan tried to make my asshole more flexible. Sometimes three fingers, sometimes even four. Gradually, the pain started to decrease, and I only felt a sensation of fullness when his fingers went in. I had learned to take them without moving. My body now understood how to relax itself for this new game.
Meanwhile, Ishaan was also preparing for the real “scene” I had asked for. We decided it would happen somewhere inside the house—with complete freedom, without any hindrance. But where and how it would happen, he would decide. I would just “die” wherever he told me to, and then our game would begin where I was just a toy.
After having his fingers and small sex toys inserted into my asshole more than ten times, I was now able to take his full cock without moving. It no longer hurt, provided he gave me a few moments for my body to relax. The next week, he came to me.
“Ananya, if you’re ready, I’m ready too.” He was genuinely very excited. There was a gleam in his eyes that I had never seen before. This could work.
“I’m ready. Tell me what to do.”
“Put on some old clothes, ones you won’t mind getting ruined. And also, underwear that you won’t mind getting torn. When you’re ready, I’ll tell you where to go.”
I ran upstairs and found something I hadn’t worn in a long time—an old, midi-length skirt and a loose top that I had bought years ago and never liked wearing. If he ruined this dress, it would be a bonus for me. I also wore an old bra and panty—ones I had long since lost attachment to. I ran back downstairs.
“Great dress.” Ishaan looked me over with sharp eyes. “I haven’t seen this in a long time, and I don’t really like it either. Perfect choice.”
Standing in front of him, I said, “But there are some rules from my side, Ishaan. I want you to treat me like a toy. Don’t be gentle at all. If you’re pushing me off the bed, push me hard. Let me fall carelessly on the floor, don’t care how I fall. If you put your cock in my mouth, shove it all the way in. I can take your whole cock in my mouth, don’t worry about me. And do the same with my asshole as we practiced—just this time, without any warning. To make this game fun, I need to feel that you don’t care about my feelings. There might be some bruises on my body—but I like them. They’ll remind us of what happened this night. Promise me, Ishaan.”
Seeing the fire burning in my eyes, he understood I wasn’t joking. He nodded seriously. “I promise. But if you give even the slightest reaction to any of my actions—a single moan, a single movement—I’ll know you’re not dead. And then I’ll go soft again. Are you fully ready?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go upstairs.”
We went to the bedroom. Without saying a word, he grabbed my waist and forcefully sat me on the sofa—so hard that my back hit the back of the sofa and the air was knocked out of me. Then he grabbed both my ankles and placed them on the armrests, spreading my legs wide, making my backside hang in the air. I made no sound. I controlled my breathing.
“Are you ready?” I just blinked. He nodded with satisfaction and left the room.
I waited for him to come back. And waited. Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. He didn’t come. But I could hear sounds from the kitchen—the clinking of utensils, the click of the toaster, the sound of the fridge opening. The bastard was making himself a sandwich. My panty was already completely soaked. I wanted him to come, to fuck me, but he was keeping me waiting, completely ignoring me—exactly as I had wanted.
Finally, after half an hour, he came up the stairs. He entered the room eating his sandwich, and then suddenly the sandwich fell from his hand. “Oh my God! Hey, are you okay?” He rushed to me, pretending to check my pulse. “Oh my, she’s dead! What do I do now?”
As he said this, his hands were roaming over my hips. His fingers slipped inside my panty and he touched my pussy. I was so wet that his fingers went inside without any resistance. He pulled out one finger, put it in his mouth, and then with a devilish smile said, “I don’t think she cares when I call the police. Better I taste this merchandise first. It would be a huge waste to let that wet pussy go to waste.”
At that very moment, I nearly reached orgasm. I held myself back with all my strength, but a tremor ran through my body. He felt it but said nothing. Just pulled his fingers out.
Part 4: Hard Fucking of the Mouth, Pussy, and Asshole
He grabbed my hair and lifted my head so he could look into my eyes. I kept my eyes open without blinking for as long as I could. When he looked away, I got a chance to blink. “Beautiful woman. It would be such a waste to just leave her. I can’t keep her in my house. I don’t know how she got here, but once I’m done with her, I’ll get rid of her.”
That was the moment. Those words excited me so much that I came close to orgasm once again. But I held myself together. I had to stay completely still. He cut my bra from the back with scissors—and I didn’t move a muscle. I really liked that bra, but it was too late now. He then pushed my skirt up, tore my panty off in one swift motion, and now I was completely naked from the waist down.
He lifted me off the sofa and threw me on the floor. I fell on my back, my limbs sprawling randomly. He bent down, lifted my head by my hair, grabbed my chin, and shoved his hard, warm cock into my mouth. Not gently at all. He thrust his entire cock deep into my mouth—so deep that his balls started hitting my chin. His cock reached my throat, and I started having trouble breathing, but I didn’t try to move. He began roughly fucking my mouth, without any mercy.
“Squelch-squelch” sounds started echoing in the room. My mouth’s saliva was dripping out, mixing with his cock. He held my head with both hands and was jerking my neck. After fucking my mouth like this for about ten minutes, he suddenly pulled his cock out and released all his hot semen onto my face. I didn’t even blink. His semen spread over my eyes, cheeks, and lips. Some drops went into my mouth, but I didn’t swallow—I let it drip.
“Wow, what a sight.” He gasped. “A mouth that’s been fully used.”
Then he turned me over and made me kneel, my head resting on the floor and my asshole up in the air. I thought he would now enter my pussy, but he applied lube directly to my asshole and, without any warning, placed his cock at the entrance. I relaxed my sphincter muscles, as he had taught me.
One thrust. Two thrusts. He pushed his entire cock into my asshole. This time there was no pain—just a strange fullness and stretch. But when he started thrusting rapidly, I realized it was far more intense than fingers. His thick cock was rubbing against the walls of my asshole, and gradually, in place of the pain, a strange pleasure began to emerge.
“Your asshole is heaven, Ananya. So warm and tight. I want to fuck it every day.” He was fucking my asshole hard from behind, his hands on my hips like I was some machine.
He kept fucking my asshole until his breathing grew even faster. But he hadn’t cum yet. He pulled his cock out of my asshole, laid me on my back, and climbed on top of me with his full weight. Without saying a word, he shoved his cock into my completely wet pussy. This time, I almost screamed. He thrust so hard that my entire body bounced on the bed. My breasts were rubbing against his chest, my nipples had hardened.
“Ah… ah…” I couldn’t control myself. A small moan escaped.
Ishaan stopped immediately. He looked at me and placed a finger on his lips. “Shh… dolls don’t moan, Ananya.”
I steadied myself again. He started again—slow, then fast, then ruthless. Fluid was dripping from my pussy, mixing with his cock to create a wet sound. He was fucking my pussy as if I were a bitch, as if my body was just there to quench his lust. He fucked my pussy for ten minutes, and then suddenly pulled his cock out, turned me over again, and this time shoved it into my asshole with so much force that tears came to my eyes.
But I was silent. Completely silent.
He fucked my asshole until he came—and he released all his load deep inside my asshole. The warmth of his semen spread inside me, and I experienced several small waves of orgasm without moving. He lay on top of me, panting, his cock now slowly softening but still inside my asshole.
After a while, he got up, went to the bathroom, and cleaned me with a wet towel. Then he laid me back on the same bed—this time on my side. He placed his leg between my legs, keeping my pussy open, and then quietly fell asleep beside me.
Part 5: Lust Until Morning and the Final Scene – Hard Asshole Fucking in the Garage Until Unconsciousness
When I woke up in the morning, Ishaan was already awake. Soft sunlight was filtering through the curtains into the room. He had left me in the same position—on my side, my legs open, my pussy now dry but still open. There were still traces of his semen from last night in my asshole, and there were several light blue bruises on my body. I found him standing at the other end of the room, holding a mug of coffee, staring at me. There was the same wild gleam in his eyes as last night—rather, it had intensified.
“Good morning, Mrs. Ananya.” He said with a devilish smile. There was a strange cold indifference in his voice. “Are you still unconscious, or have you woken up now?”
I didn’t answer. I was still in character—lifeless, unconscious, a toy. My eyelids were closed, my breaths so slow that no one could probably hear them. Ishaan took a sip of coffee, then placed the mug on the side table. He came to me, bent down, and whispered in my ear, “Alright then, let’s go. Today is a long day too. Your asshole must have rested last night. Now it’s time to warm it up again.”
He lifted me off the bed—just like that, without clothes—and slung me over his shoulder. My naked body was hanging over his shoulder, my breasts rubbing against his back, my hair touching the floor. I was draped over his shoulder, my arms swinging down his back. With every step, my body swayed, and some fluid was still dripping from my pussy. He went down the stairs, carrying me along. The cold morning air touched my naked body, and I shivered from the cold—but I didn’t try to move. I was a corpse. Corpses don’t shiver, but my body was ruthlessly trembling in the cold.
The garage door opened. A gust of cold air rushed in, and my hair stood on end. He went straight into the garage, lowered me from his shoulder, and laid me face down on the cold cement floor. My skin felt the cold cement, and I lay there without moving. My knees were touching my chin, and my hands were tied above my head—just like last night. I was completely helpless.
Ishaan looked at me for a moment. Then he took off his pants. His cock was already hard—like an iron rod. He picked up the bottle of lube from the garage wall, applied it to his hand, and then slowly rubbed his fingers into the crack of my asshole. The lube was cold, and his touch made my body tense—but I didn’t try to move.
“Your asshole is still loose from last night, Ananya.” He said softly, a strange satisfaction in his voice. “But I want it looser. I want it to take the shape of my cock.”
He inserted one finger after another—three fingers—into my asshole. I felt the stretch—painful, but with that pain came a strange intensity. He moved his fingers in and out, slowly, as if searching for a rhythm. Then, without any warning, he inserted a fourth finger. I nearly screamed, but I kept my lips tightly shut. A sharp jolt went through my body—the pain so deep that tears came to my eyes. But I didn’t move. I was silent. Completely silent.
“Excellent. You really are a good corpse.” He pulled his fingers out. Then I felt the warm tip of his cock against my asshole. He started pushing in slowly, almost ruthlessly. My asshole muscles immediately contracted, as if trying to push him out, but he didn’t stop. He put his full weight behind me and with one powerful thrust, shoved his entire cock into my asshole.
“Aaahhh…!” A suppressed, almost inhuman moan escaped my mouth. This pain was far worse than last night. Perhaps because my body hadn’t recovered from the previous night. Perhaps because he was even more ruthless. I felt like there was fire inside my asshole. Tears started streaming from my eyes, and my limbs began to tremble uncontrollably. I was moaning in pain, writhing on the cold cement, but Ishaan held me down. He pressed my hips with both hands and began thrusting fast and deep.
“Shut up, Ananya.” There was no mercy in his voice. He was fucking my asshole like an animal—ruthless, wild, without interruption. With every thrust, my head hit the floor. My breasts were rubbing against the cement, my nipples had hardened—from both pain and cold. I started struggling. My fingers started clawing at the floor. I was trying to get away from him, but he would hold me tighter.
He continued fucking my asshole—for minutes that felt like hours. Every thrust shook my body, every time his cock rubbed against the walls of my asshole, and every time tears streamed from my eyes. The pain became so unbearable that my body started shutting down. First my fingers went numb. Then my legs. Then my arms. My mind started to blur. Everything began to look hazy—the garage ceiling, Ishaan’s face, his body over me. Everything was slowly fading away.
“Last time, Ananya. Get ready.” He went faster. His balls were slapping against my asshole. His breathing was completely out of control. Then, with a long, deep groan, he released all his hot semen deep inside my asshole. The warmth of his semen spread inside me, and at that very moment—my body, which had endured so much pain, was now so weak that it couldn’t take any more. My eyes closed on their own. My breathing slowed down. I fell completely unconscious.
When I regained a little consciousness, I was alone. Ishaan was nowhere to be seen. I was still lying face down on that cold cement floor, my face turned to one side. There were dry bloodstains on my lips—I had probably bitten my lips in pain. There was still the warmth of his semen in my asshole, and my pussy had become wet again—on its own. My body was now completely exhausted. I couldn’t even move. Every muscle ached. There was fire in my asshole. My nipples were chafed—from the friction against the cement. My knees had turned black.
I was alone. At that moment, in that darkness and silence—the cold air of the garage, the occasional sound of cars passing above, and no one but me—I felt a strange satisfaction in my entire body. He had done everything exactly as I had wanted. My asshole, my pussy, my mouth—he had used everything. He had fucked me until I passed out. And then he had left me on the cold floor—like an old, used toy. Like a doll that had been played with and discarded. This was what I wanted. This was my fantasy. And he had brought it to life in every way.
Slowly, a little strength returned to my body. I could change position. I turned onto my side, bringing my knees to my chest—like a fetus. The pain in my asshole was still there, but it had become bearable now. I lay there, in that same garage, on that same cold floor, for several hours. Sometimes half-conscious, sometimes half-awake. On that blurred line between dreams and reality. I fell asleep there, with my own wet pussy and filled asshole.
A few hours later—I don’t know exactly how many—I heard footsteps. The garage door opened. Bright sunlight streamed in, and my eyes were dazzled. My heart started beating faster—not from fear, but from the thrill that still hadn’t ended. I kept my eyes closed, pretending to still be unconscious. But I couldn’t move—my body was genuinely too weak to move.
Ishaan came to me. He bent down and looked at me. His hands stroked my hair—lovingly, with gentle hands. Then he lifted me up, gently, as if I were made of glass. My head rested on his shoulder, and he carried me out of the garage into the bright sunlight. My naked body began to warm in the sun, and I felt the light touch of his fingers on my skin.
“So, little madam, how did I do?” He said with a smile. There was the same love in his eyes that was always there—but also a new sparkle, a new understanding. He gently seated me in the front seat of his car and draped his jacket over me to cover my body.
I could barely stand, let alone sit. My legs were trembling, there was still unbearable pain in my asshole, and my pussy was dry but stretched. My nipples were still burning, and my knees had black marks. But there was a smile on my face.
I wrapped my arms around his neck—as tightly as I could. I looked into his eyes and said, “Ishaan, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been planning this for years. It was absolutely amazing. More than that—you made every fantasy of mine come true. I remained unconscious even while taking your cock in my asshole. Exactly as I had imagined. You fucked my asshole until I passed out. You used me like a toy—and that’s exactly what I wanted.”
He gently pulled me close, stroked my hair, and placed a loving kiss on my forehead. The warmth of his chest was touching my bare breasts, and I could hear his heartbeat. “So what’s the next fantasy, Ananya?” He asked softly. There was no indifference in his voice now—just love, and a little mischief.
I smiled. My body hadn’t fully recovered yet, but my mind was already planning for the next night. I looked at the car’s trunk, then at Ishaan, and said, “First bathe me, then I’ll tell you.”
He laughed, picked me up, and carried me inside—up the stairs, this time with great love. And when we reached the bathroom, he filled it with hot water, sat me inside, and got in with me. He slowly cleaned my body—everywhere, every mark, touching every pain with love. That night, we decided to sleep in each other’s arms—without any fantasy, just as we were: a husband and wife who had dared to set their relationship on fire.
Because in the end, a good wife is one who understands her husband’s every passion, and a good husband is one who fulfills it. This is our story of fucking the unconscious wife’s asshole—ruthless, excessive, and deeply satisfying. And yes—this was the first time, but it wasn’t the last.