Chapter 14: Milking
The low vibration inside the cylinder was a constant thrum against Zatanna’s swollen clit, a baseline hum that kept her nerves alight even in the lull after the shattering fist-fucking. Sweat beaded on her forehead, dripping onto the worn leather bench beneath her. Bruce’s hand, still resting possessively on her flank, felt like an anchor. The silver ring encircling the base of her monstrously engorged clit was a cold, heavy pressure, grounding her in the deep, aching sensitivity.
"Deep breaths, Zee," Bruce murmured, his voice a low, controlled rasp near her ear. He slowly withdrew his hand from her flank. She heard the soft clink of metal, the rustle of leather. "Position held. Perfect." His fingers brushed the cool plastic of the cylinder still sealed tightly over her throbbing flesh, making her flinch. "So greedy. Still pulsing for me." He traced the medical tape securing it. "Good girl. Fifteen down. Five to go."
He moved away. Zatanna heard the scrape of something heavy on stone, the click of a latch. When he returned, he placed something on a low obsidian table within her limited field of view. She could only see his legs, clad in dark sweatpants, shifting as he prepared. The anticipation coiled tighter in her belly, a mix of dread and desperate need. Her clit throbbed insistently under the vibration.
"New toy," Bruce announced, his tone devoid of inflection, yet carrying an undercurrent of dark intent. He knelt beside the bench, one hand resting on the curve of her ass. In his other hand, she caught a glimpse of gleaming black silicone – a bulbous, tapered shape with a thin tube connected to a small, bellows-like pump. Anal. Her breath hitched. He coated the object liberally with thick, clear lubricant. "You took my fist beautifully, my magic slut. This will be child’s play." His slicked fingers found her asshole, circling the tight ring of muscle, already slightly loosened from his earlier possession but still fiercely resistant. He pressed one digit in slowly, stretching. "Breathe out."
Zatanna obeyed, pushing back weakly. His finger slid in, then a second, working her open with practiced efficiency. The stretch burned, but it was a familiar, almost welcome ache after the profound invasion of his fist. He removed his fingers, replaced them instantly with the slick, cool tip of the inflatable toy. Steady pressure. Her body yielded with a soft, wet sound. He pushed it deeper, until the flared base nestled against her entrance.
"Comfortable?" he asked, though it wasn’t really a question. His hand moved away from the toy’s base. She heard the soft scrape of wood on stone again. When she saw it this time, her stomach tightened. A flogger. Not heavy leather, but dozens of thin, supple strands of soft black suede. It looked almost gentle. But she knew Bruce.
He positioned himself behind her, not touching her yet. "Camera," he stated flatly. He lifted a small, high-resolution camera – one of his surveillance units, no doubt. He focused it directly on her pussy, zooming in. The lens whirred softly. On a nearby monitor, flickering to life, Zatanna saw her own swollen, ringed clit trapped under the clear plastic dome, glistening with lube and arousal. The silver ring gleamed dully. Her stretched pussy lips were slick and parted, the black silicone plug nestled deep in her ass just visible in the frame. It was obscenely intimate.
"Look," Bruce commanded, his voice resonating near the microphone. "Look at this magnificent, greedy cunt. Look at what I've made of it." He moved the camera slightly, panning over the hypersensitive flesh under the cylinder. "Fat. Engorged. Ringed and ready for more. Seventeen pumps have made it a fucking monument to your greed, Zatanna." He set the camera down on a tripod, keeping the tight focus on her clit. "Now, you’re going to take the last five."
He picked up the flogger. The soft suede strands whispered against each other. He raised it. Not high. The first fall was almost casual, a whisper-light caress across the top of the plastic cylinder sealing her clit.
Thwap.
The sound was soft. The impact barely registered through the plastic. But Zatanna gasped. The subtle vibration transmitted the touch directly to her inflamed nerve bundle. It wasn't pain. It was… awareness. A jolt of pure sensitivity.
Simultaneously, Bruce squeezed the small pump attached to the anal toy.
Psssht.
A tiny burst of air. Inside her ass, the bulbous silicone shape expanded just a fraction. A deep, internal stretch bloomed. Not painful yet, but undeniably present. Filling her.
"One," Bruce counted, his voice calm, clinical, yet charged with dark pleasure. He watched the monitor, watching the way her clit visibly pulsed under the plastic after the flogger fall.
He raised the flogger again. Higher this time. The strands gathered, then fell with more intent.
Crack.
A sharper impact resonated through the plastic. A sting bloomed on her trapped flesh, sharp and bright, cutting through the constant vibration.
Psssht.
Another squeeze of the pump. The plug expanded further inside her ass. The stretch intensified, becoming a firm, insistent pressure deep in her core. Zatanna moaned, low and strained, pushing her hips back instinctively, which only ground her swollen clit harder against the textured plastic inside the cylinder. The vibration intensified the sting.
"Two," Bruce stated. He admired the view on the monitor – the flush deepening on her exposed flesh, the way her muscles tensed under her skin. "Feeling it now, aren't you, my greedy sorceress? Your fat clit taking the sting, your ass stretching wider." He ran the soft tails of the flogger over her trembling thigh. "Beg me."
Zatanna’s mind was a whirlwind of sensation – the deep vibration, the sting, the internal stretch, the relentless needy ache. "Bruce… please…" she whimpered, the words muffled against the leather.
"Louder," he commanded, raising the flogger again, letting it hover. "Beg properly. Tell me what you want."
"Please!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "Please, the flogger… it stings… but… fuck… it feels…" She couldn't articulate it. The sting melded with the deep vibration, creating a feedback loop of intense sensation centered entirely on her tortured clit. "Please… suck it! Please, Bruce! Suck my clit! Make it feel better! Please!" Tears welled in her eyes, a mix of overwhelm and desperate need.
Bruce lowered the flogger, letting the soft strands trail over the plastic dome again, making her shudder. "Suck this?" he mused, his voice thick with dark amusement and something deeper – raw obsession. He leaned closer, his breath hot on her lower back, near the camera's view. "Look at it, Zee. Look at what I've created." His fingertip tapped the monitor screen where her clit pulsed. "It's breathtaking. A dark red jewel, swollen beyond belief, ringed in silver like a fucking prize. Throbbing. Begging. It’s not just greedy, it’s magnificent. A testament to your submission. My magic." His voice dropped to a possessive growl. "And soon, my mouth will worship it. But first…"
He raised the flogger high. The suede strands snapped through the air.
CRACK!
A sharp, stinging blow landed squarely on the center of the cylinder. The impact transmitted a jolt of white-hot pain directly to her hypersensitive clit. Zatanna screamed, her body bowing off the bench.
PSSSHT!
Bruce squeezed the pump hard. The plug inside her ass inflated significantly, stretching her to a sharp, burning fullness that stole her breath. Her scream choked off into a high whine. The dual assault was brutal – the sharp clitoral sting and the deep, insistent anal stretch. She felt impossibly full, impossibly sensitized.
"Three!" Bruce declared, his own breath coming faster now. He watched, enraptured, as her trapped clit pulsed violently on the screen, the flesh darkening further under the onslaught. Her asshole visibly clenched around the base of the inflated plug. "Look at it, Zee! See how beautiful it is when it suffers? How it swells for its master?" He landed another flogger stroke, slightly off-center.
Crack!
Psssht!
The plug grew again. The stretch was becoming almost painful. Sweat poured down Zatanna's spine. "FOUR! Fucking take it!" Bruce growled, his control fraying. "Beg for the last one! Beg for the finish!"
"Please!" she sobbed, her voice raw. "Bruce! Master! Please! Last one! Please, let me cum! Let me take it! PLEASE SUCK ME AFTER!" She was babbling, lost in the maelstrom of sensation, the monitor displaying her utter degradation – her fat, tortured clit, her gaping, plugged ass, her tear-streaked face reflected dimly in the obsidian wall.
Bruce raised the flogger for the final time. He paused, savoring the moment, the taut desperation in her presented form. "For you, my beautiful, debauched sorceress," he breathed. He brought the flogger down with focused force, not on the plastic, but angled so the tips of the suede strands snapped against the exposed, ringed base of her clit where it met the cylinder seal.
SNAP!
A line of fire erupted around the very root. Zatanna shrieked, a sound ripped from her soul.
PSSSSHT!
He squeezed the pump to its limit. The plug inside her ass inflated to its maximum girth, stretching her anal ring to an exquisite, burning limit. A profound, unyielding fullness consumed her lower body.
"FIVE!" Bruce roared. "TWENTY! You did it, Zee! TWENTY FUCKING PUMPS!"
He dropped the flogger. His hands went to the medical tape securing the cylinder, ripping it off with swift, efficient tugs. He disconnected the pump tube. The vacuum released with a soft pop. He wrenched the cylinder away.
Zatanna’s clit was fully exposed. It jutted out, huge, dark burgundy, glistening wetly, the silver ring a stark band around its base. It pulsed visibly, radiating agonizing sensitivity into the open air. The vibration was gone, leaving only raw, exposed nerve endings screaming for relief. Her whole body trembled violently.
Bruce didn’t hesitate. He shoved the camera aside, sending it clattering. He dropped to his knees between her splayed thighs, his hands gripping her hips. He leaned forward, his breath hot on her ravaged flesh.
"Now," he growled, his voice thick and dark with need, "let me taste my magnificent creation."
His mouth descended. Not gentle. Not tentative. He engulfed the entire swollen, throbbing shaft in one fierce, hot, wet movement. His lips sealed around the ring, his tongue flattening against the hypersensitive underside, swirling over the engorged head. He sucked hard, pulling the tortured flesh into the heat of his mouth.
Zatanna’s vision whited out. A sound escaped her that was beyond scream or sob – a primal, guttural cry torn from the depths of her being as Bruce Wayne began to devour her swollen clit. The relief, the agonizing pleasure, the sheer intensity of his possessive mouth on her most sensitive point after twenty brutal pumps and the inflatable plug stretching her ass to its limit… it was an atomic detonation of sensation. Her magic flared uncontrollably, blue-white sparks dancing erratically across the dungeon walls as she shattered utterly under her husband's relentless mouth, her reward finally beginning.
Electricity arced along the stone walls as Zatanna convulsed, Bruce’s hot mouth sealed brutally around her tortured clit. He sucked, hard, his tongue a relentless, wet pressure massaging the obscenely swollen shaft trapped inside his mouth. She tasted her own slick cunt juice flooding over his chin, mixed with the salt of her sweat, as his nose ground against her pubic bone.
"FUCK! BRUCE! OH GOD YES!" The scream tore from her throat raw, echoing off the ancient walls. Her hips bucked wildly, but his hands, clamped like iron manacles on her pelvis, held her pinned to the cold leather bench. He grunted, sucking deeper, burying his face into her pussy as the massive inflatable plug stretched her asshole to its burning limit. Sparks fizzed where his stubble scraped her inner thighs.
He pulled back just enough to growl, "Squirt it all, you greedy magic bitch. Paint my fucking face." His tongue lashed the engorged head under the silver ring, a sharp, precise flick. "Now, Zee! Let me see it!" He sealed his lips tight around the base ring and sucked with a force that felt like he was trying to pull her soul out through her clit. It wasn't gentle worship; it was claiming.
His demand, the raw, animalistic hunger vibrating against her oversaturated nerve bundle, shattered the last restraint. Zatanna’s spine arched impossibly high off the bench. A guttural roar ripped through her as her cunt clenched violently around nothing. Then it happened. A hot, pressurized jet of her essence erupted from her spasming hole, splattering Bruce’s cheek, his jaw, his chin in thick, pearly ropes.
He didn't flinch. He drove his face harder into her pulsing pussy, tongue still working her clit ring, sucking the flood even as it coated him. "YES! FUCKING DRENCH ME!" he snarled against her flesh, the vibrations sending fresh shockwaves through her core. More fluid gushed, soaking his lower face, dripping thickly onto the leather bench beneath them.
Her magic detonated. Crackling blue-white energy surged outwards in visible waves, momentarily bleaching the dungeon’s shadows. Her vision dissolved into white static, every muscle locked in ecstatic paralysis. She was dimly aware of the wet, obscene sounds of Bruce feasting, sucking hard on her clit even as her squirting cunt sprayed him. He held her down, immobile, drinking it all in – the taste, the scent, the sheer liquid proof of her obliteration.
The flood subsided into shuddering pulses, each weaker than the last. Bruce finally lifted his dripping face, rivulets of her juices running down his stubbled chin, glistening on his lips. His eyes, usually so controlled, burned with a feral intensity. He stared at her wrecked pussy, the ringed clit still throbbing violently, glistening wet under the lantern light. He ran a thumb through the mess on his chin, then slowly, deliberately, sucked it clean.
Bruce wiped the slick mess from his jaw with the back of his hand, his gaze locked onto Zatanna’s shuddering form. Her clit pulsed like a frantic, swollen heart under the silver ring, still jutting obscenely, dripping with spit and her own juices. The air crackled faintly with the ozone residue of her magical discharge. "Beautiful," he rasped, the word rough, possessive. "Absolutely fucking ruined." His thumb, coated, went back to his mouth, and he licked it clean with deliberate, savoring slowness, eyes never leaving her hypersensitive flesh.
He rose, his movements precise, efficient. The soft clink of a small metal case opening cut through Zatanna’s ragged breaths. She panted, still reeling from the volcanic eruption of her orgasm, the massive plug stretching her ass a constant, burning anchor. Every nerve screamed, especially the tortured bundle trapped under that ring. She watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, a flicker of desperate hope mixing with fear. Reward. He’d promised. "Bruce…" she whimpered, her voice shredded. "Please…"
"Patience," he murmured, not looking at her face, utterly focused on the contents of the case. He withdrew a pair of slim, nickel-plated clamps, their jaws lined with soft neoprene pads. "Eyes forward. Present." His command snapped her focus back to the obsidian wall ahead, the monitor reflecting her own debauched image: flushed skin, tear-streaked cheeks, the monstrously engorged clit, the dark plug nestled in her reddened asshole. He positioned himself between her splayed thighs again, his heat radiating against her trembling skin. His fingers found the cold silver ring encircling the base of her clit. They traced it gently, sending shivers of agony-pleasure through her core. "This," he said, his voice low and thick with dark appreciation, "has served its purpose well. Made you into something… spectacular."
He applied gentle pressure to the ring’s clasp. A tiny click. The tension holding it closed released. Zatanna gasped, a sharp intake of breath. The sudden absence of the constricting metal band sent fresh waves of sensation crashing through her – a dizzying mixture of profound relief and terrifying exposure. The blood rushed back, engorging the swollen flesh even further for a blinding second before settling into a deep, thrumming ache. It felt massive, terrifyingly sensitive, naked to the cool dungeon air. "Oh god…" she breathed, her hips giving an involuntary twitch. "Feels… huge… exposed…"
He carefully slid the ring off. The cool metal left a faint indentation on the burgundy flesh. He dropped it onto the obsidian table with a soft ting. Zatanna whimpered, the sheer vulnerability overwhelming. Her clit throbbed visibly, a dark, glistening protrusion aching for touch, for pressure, for anything after the ring’s release. The deep vibration was gone, the clamp was gone, leaving raw, hyper-aware nerve endings screaming into the void. Tears welled anew. "Bruce… it… it needs…" She couldn’t even form the words. Need consumed her.
He didn't touch it yet. Instead, he reached back into the case. "Almost, Zee," he soothed, but the promise in his voice was edged with something darker, more intense. "Your reward. You earned it. Twenty fucking pumps. Your greedy cunt took it all." He pulled out an object, holding it where she couldn’t see. She heard a soft, complex mechanism engage – a series of precise clicks and a low, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate the air itself. It sounded heavy, intricate. Not just another vibrator. Something… more.
Zatanna strained, trying to crane her neck, but the position held her fast. The unseen object hummed, a deeper, more powerful frequency than the cylinder’s vibration. It teased her senses, promising profound sensation. The ache in her clit intensified, a pulsing demand. He shifted, bringing his other hand down to gently, so gently, cup the entire swollen mound of her pussy, his palm radiating heat but not applying direct pressure. She moaned, pushing weakly against his hand, desperate for friction on the exposed, throbbing nerve bundle. "Show me," she begged, her voice trembling. "Please, Bruce... show me the surprise… for… for this." She meant her agonizingly engorged clit.
He leaned close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. His breath was hot. "Look down, my magnificent, debauched sorceress." Slowly, he lowered the object into her line of sight. Her breath hitched. It was a device of gleaming, polished chrome and black titanium. At its core was a thick, bulbous attachment molded from deep purple silicone, shaped unlike any dildo or vibrator she’d seen – a complex series of ridges and a central, tapered protrusion designed to engulf and penetrate. But it was the secondary element that made her gasp: a large, oval-shaped cup made of smooth, warm obsidian, its inner surface lined with intricate, fine, vibrating bristles. The entire apparatus hummed with potent energy.
"This," Bruce growled, his voice thick with dark possession, "is for that." He nudged the obsidian cup gently, almost reverently, against the underside of her massively swollen clit. The warm stone and the minute, humming vibrations against her hypersensitive flesh elicited a sharp cry. "Designed just for you. For what I made you. To worship this fat, greedy clit properly." He angled the device, aligning the central purple protrusion with her dripping cunt entrance and the obsidian cup perfectly around her pulsing clit. "Ready to feel what true worship feels like, Zatanna?" The hum intensified. The obsidian pressed more firmly. He pushed.