— A DESCENTWORK FILE —
Wreck Me Better
She Asked for Ruin. He Delivered Devotion
Ruin. Degradation. Devotional use.
Inspired by Anaïs Nin, ENF fiction, and punishment-based BDSM,
Wreck Me Better is a ritual of collapse—brutal, begged for, and never safe.
Excerpt fromChapter Two: Do It Right
Trigger warning: This work contains themes of public exposure, consensual humiliation, and psychological degradation. For adult readers only.
She didn’t want to be kissed.
Didn’t want to be held.
Didn’t even want to be called by name.She wanted to be used—
like a sleeve someone forgot to throw away.Spit landed on her cunt.
Not sensual. Just spat.
Her hole clenched. Her eyes watered.
She didn’t move.“You came just from waiting,” he said.The first slap stung.
By the third, she was moaning.
By the fifth, she was grateful.Then—his cock.
No words. Just stretch.And when she came—
she didn’t make a sound.
She just broke.
—excerpt from Wreck Me Better
Excerpt Updated Regularly
Next refresh: June 25, 2025
What You'll Find Inside
✓ Ritual degradation and chosen ruin
✓ Shame kink and CMNF obedience without safewords
✓ Object use, spit, and orgasm without permission
✓ Psychological collapse through silence and restraint
✓ Public exposure, emotional wreckage, and voyeuristic surrender
✓ Female-submitted use with no comfort, no rescue
✓ For readers of Anaïs Nin, ENF erotica, and literary BDSM who crave surrender over seduction
This Is For You If...
✓ You’re drawn to stillness, shame, and the ache of being seen
✓ You crave psychological submission without a single command
✓ You want stories where silence replaces safewords
✓ You prefer surrender that unfolds without violence or rescue
✓ You’d rather collapse in front of the lens than be saved from it
Is this erotica or literary fiction?
Both. Wreck Me Better is literary erotica—raw, interior, and psychologically driven. If you're looking for plot, redemption, or dominant swagger, this isn’t your book.How explicit is it?
Very. Themes include ritual stillness, penetration without negotiation, voyeurism, and chosen degradation. The sexual content is graphic, emotional, and without apology.Does it include romance?
No. This isn’t about falling in love. It’s about falling apart—on purpose. No aftercare. No comfort. Just ruin, offered and accepted.Should I expect a happy ending?
Not in the traditional sense. It ends with unraveling. With truth. If it leaves a mark, it’s doing what it should.Who is this for?
Readers who ache to be seen and used without being saved. If you've ever begged for ruin in silence—this is yours.
If You Liked This...
Ritual erotica built on shame, surrender, and emotional exposure.
Each story is a descent—choose where to begin.
Photography Ritual
Erotic Humiliation
ENF Submission
Public Humiliation, Mass Voyeurism, ENF Ritual
Cock Worship
Body Display
Mass and Myth
What stayed with you?
(Leave a Mark.)
About The Author
Janus Rue writes descentwork—literary erotica shaped by shame, surrender, and psychological control.These are not stories of pleasure.
They are stories of consequence.Their writing strips something away—
gently, ruthlessly, without looking away.No photo. No feed.
Only the ritual.
The second face watches.
Dispatches from the edge—ritual fragments, early releases, and unreleased literary erotica that doesn’t belong anywhere else.No spam. No tracking. Just fragments from the dark, when it matters.
No spam. No tracking. Just literary fragments from the dark, when it matters.
A literary descent into shame, silence, and voluntary ruin.
She wasn’t taken. She offered herself.
No comfort. No safe word. Just the wreck.
This site contains explicit adult content. Intended for readers 18 and older.© Janus Rue. Ritual, fracture, and desire reserved.
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She was already holding herself open when he walked in.
Didn’t look back. Didn’t speak.
She’d texted what she wanted hours ago:
“Don’t make me feel good. Make me feel broken.”Spit hit her cunt—cool and disrespectful.
She didn’t flinch.
Her hole clenched. Her eyes watered.
And still, she didn’t move.By the third slap, she was moaning.
By the fifth, she was grateful.No easing in. No prep.
Just stretch. Just use.
Her cunt gaped. Her breath hitched.
He held her by the hair while she came—
silent, violent, shamed.There was no praise. No comfort.
Just the ache of being watched.
And the wreckage left behind.This is a story of ritual degradation, faceless use, public ruin, and orgasms that punish more than they reward.
A literary collapse told through spit, silence, and the desperate stillness of being made into nothing.Tags: ritual degradation, CMNF stripping, spit-on-cunt kink, public obedience, silent surrender, used while leaking, bent-over obedience, orgasm denial and destruction, exposure under command, humiliation without redemption, cum-dripping stillness, shame kink fiction, literary BDSM collapse.Read it now.
Or wait. She’ll beg again.