Chapter 15: Hole Breaking 2
The obsidian cup sealed over Zatanna’s swollen clit. Warmth. Humming. A million tiny, vibrating bristles caressing the hypersensitive, burgundy shaft still throbbing from the ring’s removal. The sensation wasn’t pain. Not yet. It was an all-encompassing buzz that sank deep into the engorged flesh, a relentless, purring massage that made her gasp. Her hips jerked against Bruce’s restraining palm.
He pushed. The central, thick purple silicone protrusion nudged against her slick entrance, then breached her with a smooth, relentless glide. It was substantial, stretching her already sensitized cunt walls, filling her deeply. The ridges along its length rubbed internal spots with each subtle shift of Bruce’s hand holding the device. A low moan escaped Zatanna’s lips, her eyes fluttering shut.
"Eyes open," Bruce commanded, his voice a low thrum that vibrated against her spine. "Watch. See what I do to you." He angled the device slightly. The humming intensified. The bristles inside the obsidian cup seemed to move, swirling minutely against her clit. The constant vibration fused with the swirling, creating a maddening friction on her most sensitive point. Her breath hitched. "Fuck… Bruce… it’s… it’s too much already…"
"It’s worship," he corrected, his eyes fixed on the point where the device disappeared into her body, where the obsidian cup claimed her clit. "For the greedy magic slut who took twenty pumps and begged for more." He began a slow, rhythmic pressure with the device – not thrusting, but applying deep, grinding pressure inside her cunt while simultaneously maintaining the humming, swirling embrace on her clit. "Feel it claim your pussy. Claim this." He gave the clit cup a slight, insistent twist.
Zatanna cried out, her back arching. The dual assault was immediate and overwhelming. The thick silicone filled her profoundly, grinding spots inside her that sparked white heat behind her eyes. But it was the clit… the swirling vibration was everywhere on the exposed nerve bundle, a ceaseless, fluttering torment that bypassed pleasure and pain, becoming pure, electric sensation. "Oh god! Yes! Like that! Worship it! Fuck! More!" Her words tumbled out, raw and desperate. She could see it on the monitor – her pussy stretched around the dark purple intrusion, her clit utterly engulfed by the black stone cup, trembling under its influence.
Bruce watched her face contort, her knuckles white where she gripped the bench. He saw the tears of overwhelm streak her temples. "You look beautiful like this," he murmured, leaning close, his lips brushing her ear. "Utterly conquered by your own greed. Your magnificent clit… my obsession." He increased the pressure of the internal grind. A gush of her arousal slicked the device, dripping down onto the bench. "See how wet you are? How desperate this greedy cunt is? All for this." He twisted the cup again, sharply.
Zatanna shrieked, her magic flickering weakly in the air like dying embers. "Please! Don’t stop! Break it! Break my pussy with it! Stretch it! Make it squirt for you again! Worship it until I fucking shatter!" Her pleas were incoherent, driven by the relentless sensations coiling tighter and tighter in her core and centered entirely on that engorged, vibrating nub.
"Not yet," Bruce breathed, a dark promise. He pulled the device back slightly, almost withdrawing the internal arm, leaving her clit still humming in its cup. Zatanna whimpered at the sudden emptiness, at the teasing reduction in sensation. "You want it broken open? Want to see everything? Want nowhere to hide?" He reached beside the bench, his movement deliberate. When his hand returned, it held gleaming chrome. Not clamps, but something more intricate: a ring of small, curved, articulated arms, each tipped with a tiny, precise clamp. A speculum, but specifically designed to spread and expose the outer lips and hold the clitoral hood wide.
Zatanna’s eyes widened. "Bruce…"
"Show me," he demanded, his voice thick with dark intent. He released the obsidian device, letting it rest against her, still humming, still swirling on her clit, the internal arm still seated deep. With practiced ease, he positioned the chrome ring. The cool metal touched her outer lips. He attached the first clamp to her left outer labia. The bite was sharp, stinging, making her gasp. Then the right. The articulated arms held the lips apart firmly, exposing her slick pink inner folds and the base of the purple silicone plug still stretching her ass. But that wasn’t the main event. He manipulated two longer, thinner chrome arms, positioning them near her clit. With terrifying precision, he attached two tiny, powerful clamps to her inner labia, just below the obsidian cup. He pulled. The chrome arms ratcheted smoothly, mechanically spreading her inner folds wide, peeling her open like a grotesque, wet flower. Her clit, still under the humming obsidian cup, was now completely exposed at its root and sides, the swollen shaft horrifyingly prominent, the glistening flesh around it laid bare.
"Beautiful," Bruce breathed, staring at the obscene, vulnerable exposure. He adjusted the arms slightly, cranking them wider with a soft click-click. Zatanna felt the stretch, the cool air hitting hyper-sensitive inner flesh she never felt before. She was splayed, pinned open, her most intimate depths forcibly displayed. The obsidian cup sat like a dark crown on her jutting clit, still humming, the only thing concealing the tip itself. Tears of shame and overwhelming arousal spilled down her cheeks. "Look, Zee," Bruce commanded, tilting the camera mounted nearby to capture the horrifyingly intimate view: the chrome ring, the spread lips, the glistening pink and burgundy flesh, the black cup vibrating on her clit, the thick purple plug stretching her asshole below. "Look at how open you are. How greedy. How mine."
He reactivated the internal arm of the device, pushing it deep again, grinding. The vibration on her clit surged. The swirling bristles intensified. With her pussy forced wide open, the sensations were blindingly direct, unfiltered. She felt every ridge, every pulse of the vibration echoing through her exposed tissues. "OH FUCK! BRUCE! IT'S TOO MUCH! I CAN FEEL EVERYTHING!" Her body thrashed, but he held her hips down.
He lowered himself beside her on the bench, his chest pressing against her sweat-slicked back, one muscular arm wrapping around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, the other hand resting possessively on her lower belly. His lips found the pulse point on her neck. "Shhh," he murmured against her skin, his voice a rough counterpoint to the mechanical hum filling her. "Feel it. All of it. This is your breaking point. This is where your greedy clit takes you apart." He kissed her jaw, his tongue tracing the shell of her ear. "Beg for it to finish you."
Through the haze, Zatanna turned her head, seeking his mouth. Their lips met – a clash of desperation and possession. His tongue plunged into her mouth, rough, demanding, tasting salt and her own arousal. She kissed him back fiercely, a moan vibrating against his lips. "Please," she gasped when they broke apart, her eyes wild, fixed on the monitor showing her ravaged, exposed sex. "Worship it… make it… make my clit make me cum… suck it… fuck it… anything! Just make it happen! Break me with it! I need it! I’ll die!" Her voice was a ragged sob. "Stretch it… stuff it… make me squirt rivers… please, Master! My clit… use it… break me!"
Bruce held her tighter against him, his own arousal a hard line pressed against her hip. His hand slid down from her belly, his thumb finding the obscenely stretched, glistening flesh beside the humming obsidian cup. He pressed down firmly on the hypersensitive, exposed inner labia just below her clit root. Zatanna screamed, a sound ripped from her core. The dual sensations – the deep internal grinding, the swirling vibration on her clit, and now this brutal pressure on newly exposed nerves – coalesced into a white-hot spear of agony-pleasure.
"I will," he promised, his voice guttural, primal. He watched her face contort, saw her pupils blown wide with abandon. He pressed his thumb harder, rubbing in small, cruel circles on the tender flesh. "I’ll make this greedy, fat clit give you an orgasm that rewrites your fucking DNA, Zatanna. I’ll make you forget every other cock, every other touch. This," he ground his thumb down, making her shriek again, her cunt clenching violently around the silicone intruder, "will be your god. And I," he brought his mouth back to her ear, his teeth grazing the lobe, "will be its prophet. Ready to scream?"
He didn’t wait for an answer. His hand left her belly and went back to the humming device. He pressed a small, recessed button on its chrome base. A new sound joined the thrum – a wet, insistent thrum-thrum-thrum, faster, deeper. Suction. Powerful suction focused directly onto her clit within the obsidian cup. It gripped the swollen head, pulling it deeper into the vibrating bristles, the pressure increasing rapidly.
Zatanna’s world exploded. The deep suction latched onto her hypersensitive nerve bundle like an electric eel. The swirling vibrations intensified to a fever pitch. The grinding pressure inside her cunt hit a spot that felt like her cervix. The thumb pressed relentlessly into her exposed inner labia. The chrome speculum held her wide open, forcing her to feel every micro-sensation amplified a thousandfold. There was no build. Only detonation.
Her mouth opened in a silent scream. Then sound ripped out – a continuous, guttural roar that shook the dungeon stones. Her body went rigid as steel in Bruce’s iron embrace, every muscle locking, straining. The orgasm didn’t crest; it engulfed her like a supernova from the epicenter of her clit. Her vision whited out, replaced by pulsing, electric fractals. She felt her cunt convulse, a torrent of fluid erupting from her depths, spraying over the purple silicone, drenching the chrome speculum arms, pooling on the leather beneath her. But it wasn’t just her cunt. Her clit, under the relentless suction and vibration, seemed to pulse its own release, thick pearly drops forced out by the pressure, mixing with the flood from below.
Bruce held her through the cataclysm, his face buried in her hair, his own body rigid with restraint and dark triumph. He felt her magic surge uncontrollably – not sparks, but a wave of pure, chaotic energy that blew out two nearby lanterns, plunging part of the dungeon into deeper shadow. The monitor flickered wildly, showing the obscene, quivering image of her splayed, squirting sex, the obsidian cup mercilessly latched onto her clit. He watched her face, twisted in ecstatic agony, tears streaming, mouth open in that endless silent scream turning ragged. Her body bucked against him, not in resistance, but in the throes of a climax so total it bordered on seizure.
The suction pulsed. The vibrations drilled. The grinding continued. Bruce held her down, forcing her to take every second of the annihilation centered entirely on her engorged, tortured, worshipped clit. Just as the first wave threatened to ebb, leaving her a shuddering, sobbing wreck, Bruce tightened his arm around her waist and growled into her sweat-drenched hair, "Again."