Zatanna and Bruce Wayne are lovers, partners in justice, and married. They have few secrets. Fewer still when she admits she wants him to tie her up and play out one of her greatest fantasies. She wants him to pump her clit til it's huge, swollen and incredibly sensitive. They agree: he'll strap her down and make her climax repeatedly. Every time she climaxes, her clit gets pumped further. It's going to be thick and begging. She'll learn to beg him to tease and torment her clit until she squirts and starts the whole process over again. Each time they'll measure how big she's becoming. Each time he'll remind her, she cums and he's stretching out that fat pearl. Her clit -- the centre of their fantasies for a whole weekend. He can't wait. Neither can she.

Chapter 3: Good Girl

The camera’s red light blinked steadily, a silent witness to Zatanna’s utter exposure. Bruce held the chrome clamp ring poised before her spread labia, its tiny open jaws gleaming coldly in the flickering candlelight. Her clit pulsed visibly against the cool air, a tiny, desperate heartbeat. Bruce’s gaze, hot and possessive, lingered on her swollen flesh, then lifted to meet her wide, dark eyes.

"Needy?" he asked again, his voice a low thrum vibrating in the charged air. "Begging?" He didn’t move the ring closer. He let the anticipation coil tighter.

"Please," Zatanna gasped, the word escaping on a shaky breath. Her bound breasts strained against the tight black tape, her hips shifting minutely against the leather restraints. "Bruce... please, I need it. I need to be spread open. For you. For the camera. Show everyone... show me... how greedy I am."

A flicker of dark satisfaction crossed Bruce’s face. "Good girl," he murmured, the praise sending a fresh jolt of heat through her core. But instead of applying the clamps, he deliberately set the chrome ring aside on the low table with a soft clink. Her breath hitched in confusion, a whimper catching in her throat.

"Not yet," he stated, his tone shifting back towards that meticulous calm. He picked up a roll of softer, flesh-toned medical tape. "Patience, Zee. We document the journey." He tore off a short strip. "We start soft. Gentle." His fingers, warm and calloused, brushed the outer swell of her right labia, making her flinch. "Just a little help spreading these beautiful petals."

He smoothed the tape carefully, adhering one end high on her inner thigh, just below her crease, then stretching it taut across the outer fold of her labia majora before securing it low on her opposite inner thigh. The pull was firm but not painful, gently parting her outer lips, revealing the darker, glistening pink folds within. He repeated the process on the other side, adding another strip slightly lower. The effect was immediate: her entrance was subtly widened, her inner labia slightly more exposed, the hooded bud of her clit more prominent. Not the stark, mechanical spread of the clamps, but an intimate coaxing open.

"See?" Bruce murmured, his fingers tracing the newly revealed contours. His touch lingered near her entrance, a feather-light brush that drew a sharp gasp from her. "Already gaping for me. Just a little encouragement." He retrieved the digital caliper again. "Baseline spread. Document."

The cold metal jaws pressed against the outer edges of her inner labia, measuring the new width. Zatanna trembled, the clinical act heightened by the deliberate exposure. He noted the measurement silently on the tablet. Then, his focus shifted. He knelt fully between her splayed legs, his hands settling warmly on her inner thighs, just above the leather cuffs securing her ankles. His thumbs began to knead the tense muscles there, strong, rhythmic circles that eased the trembling but sent fresh waves of awareness radiating towards her core.

"Relax into it, Zee," he instructed, his voice a low rumble. His gaze was fixed on her exposed sex, studying it with an intensity that was both scientific and deeply carnal. "Let the position work. Let yourself be open." His thumbs moved higher, massaging the sensitive crease where thigh met pelvis, dangerously close to where she burned for touch. She whimpered, pushing her hips down against the leather seat, seeking friction, finding none. "Bruce..."

"Hush," he soothed, though his eyes burned. "Just feel." He leaned forward slightly, his breath warm against her damp skin. He didn't kiss her there. Instead, he inhaled deeply, the scent of her arousal thick in the air. "Perfect," he breathed, the word laden with possession. "Already dripping for me. For what's coming." He reached for the high-resolution camera mounted on a tripad beside the chair. The soft whir of the autofocus filled the silence.

The flash was blindingly bright, freezing her bound, taped, and spread form in stark detail. He took several shots: wide angles capturing her helpless posture, the swell of her bound breasts, the dark triangle of her sex pulled gently open; then tight close-ups. The lens focused ruthlessly on her glistening folds, the slick sheen coating her inner lips, the prominent, flushed nub of her clit standing proud from its hood. Another flash captured the tiny bead of moisture pearling at her entrance. Zatanna squeezed her eyes shut, the exposure visceral, humiliating, unbearably erotic. She felt utterly objectified, a specimen of desperate arousal laid bare for his study and pleasure.

"Look at me, Zatanna," Bruce commanded, his voice cutting through her embarrassment. She forced her eyes open. He wasn't looking through the viewfinder now; he was looking directly at her, the camera momentarily forgotten. His expression was fierce, possessive, lit with a dark fire. "See what you do to me?" He gestured down at the prominent bulge straining against the front of his dark trousers. "See how hard you make me? How fucking beautiful you are like this? Bound. Spread. Wet. Mine."

He moved swiftly then, abandoning the camera. He cupped her face, tilting it up, and captured her mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. His tongue plunged inside, demanding, tasting her. It was a kiss of ownership, of raw hunger barely restrained. Zatanna moaned into it, her bound body arching as much as the restraints allowed, pressing her taped breasts against his chest. He broke the kiss, breathing raggedly, his forehead resting against hers. "My gorgeous, greedy magician," he rasped. "So perfect for me."

He stepped back, his gaze sweeping over her again before turning to the table. He picked up two objects. One was a small, bulbous manual pump with a soft silicone cup – familiar, almost primitive. The other was a sleek, cylindrical device of brushed metal and dark polymer, humming faintly with contained power. Wires trailed from it to a compact control unit. It looked like something from a high-tech lab. Bruce held them both up, letting her see.

"The beginning," he said, indicating the simple bulb pump. His eyes flicked to the advanced device. "And the future." He set the bulb pump down near her thigh, within her restricted line of sight. Its silicone cup looked innocuous, yet promised suction. Then he held the advanced pump closer, letting her see the intricate pressure gauges, the small digital display, the array of controls. "This," he murmured, his voice thick with promise, "is going to blow your mind, Zee. It’s going to suck that pretty clit deeper and harder than you’ve ever dreamed. Stretch it. Swell it. Make it scream." He ran a fingertorn along the cool metal casing. "It can maintain perfect pressure. For hours. Days. It can vibrate. Pulsate. Mimic a tongue... or something harder." He met her eyes, the intensity in his gaze stealing her breath. "It’s going to make you forget your own name."

Zatanna whimpered, her hips twisting uselessly against the restraints. The sheer potential implied by that sleek machine, combined with the sight of the simpler pump so close, sent fresh gushes of wetness slicking her inner thighs. "Bruce... please..." she begged, the word ragged. "Use them... please..."

"Not yet," he said again, a cruel, knowing smile touching his lips. He placed the advanced pump deliberately on the table, its display glowing softly. He picked up the manual pump, weighing it in his hand. He brought the soft silicone cup close to her exposed clit, letting it hover mere millimeters away. She could feel the faint displacement of air. She held her breath, every nerve ending screaming for contact, for the seal, for the pull. He held it there. Torturously close. "Soon," he promised, his voice a dark caress. He withdrew the cup, setting the pump back down beside the gleaming chrome clamp ring. His hand returned to her inner thigh, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just away from her desperate core. "First, we savor the anticipation. We let the hunger build." His eyes locked onto hers, holding her captive more effectively than any restraint. "Look at it, Zee. Look at what you want. What you need. And wait."

Bruce’s thumb traced a maddening circle just shy of her clit, the heat of his touch radiating through her skin. "Look at it," he commanded again, his voice low and gravelly, forcing her gaze downward to the tiny, flushed nub straining beneath its hood. The air felt cool against its desperate wetness. "So fucking small right now. Like a little pearl begging to be noticed."

Zatanna whimpered, the sound raw and needy. Her hips jerked futilely against the leather restraints. "It needs you, Bruce," she gasped, the words tumbling out. "It’s always needy for you. But now... god, I need it big. Huge. Obscene." Her eyes locked onto his, dark pools of desperate want. "I want it swollen so fat I can’t ignore it. So sensitive I feel every fucking breeze."

While she spoke, Bruce’s hand moved subtly behind him, retrieving the sleek, humming electronic pump he’d placed just out of her immediate sightline moments before. Its soft whirr intensified slightly as he powered it on fully, his fingers adjusting a dial on the control unit clipped to his belt. The silicone cup attachment glistened faintly under the candlelight. "It will be," he promised, his gaze predatory. "This needy little pearl? I’m going to suck it out. Stretch it. Turn it into a throbbing, aching button that demands my cock, my tongue, my fingers... constantly."

He brought the humming device closer, letting the cool silicone cup hover near her inner thigh, the displaced air teasing her wet skin. "Tell me how rough, Zee," he demanded, his thumb brushing so close to her clit she cried out. "What limits? Speak."

"None!" The word ripped from her throat, sharp and absolute. Her breath came in frantic pants. "No limits! Fuck, Bruce, I want you to make it hurt with how big it gets. I want you to mash that fucking vibrator right into it until I scream. Until I squirt all over this chair!" She arched her back, straining against the tape spreading her open. "I want it cropped... oh god, yes... cropped so it swells up tight and fat, so it takes the pumping beautifully, stretches shiny and red..."

Bruce groaned, a deep, visceral sound of pure lust. The electronic pump whined softly in his hand. "Filthier, beloved," he urged, his voice thick with arousal. His free hand slid down, fingers finally, finally grazing the slick heat of her swollen outer lips. "Be filthy. It’s safe here. You’re mine. My wife. My perfect, filthy magician. Tell me everything."

Emboldened, drunk on permission and desperation, Zatanna obeyed. "I want it pumped so big it looks like a tiny cock," she gasped, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I want you to watch it throb under the suction, see the veins stand out. I want you to flick it with your tongue while it’s engorged, make me sob. Then... then shove that thick vibrator head against it, grind it in circles until my clit’s numb and my pussy’s clenching air." She moaned, her head thrashing back against the chair. "I want to feel it stretching, Bruce. Feel the skin pull taut. Feel it get so fucking sensitive that just the air from the pump nozzle makes me come."

"Christ, Zatanna," Bruce breathed, his control visibly fraying. His fingers dipped lower, sliding easily through her copious wetness, circling her entrance but avoiding her clit. The teasing was exquisite torture. He lifted the electronic pump, the silicone cup now positioned directly over her straining bud. The faint suction pulled at the humid air just above it. "This is going to suck that greedy little clit deep inside," he growled, his eyes blazing. "It’s going to make it swell faster than you can imagine. You’ll feel every millimeter it grows. Every pulse of blood forced into it." He adjusted a dial; the pump’s whine deepened, becoming a hungry thrum. "Ready to beg for it?"

"Yes! God, yes! Please!" Zatanna sobbed, her body trembling violently. "Put it on! Suck it out! Make it huge! Make it beg!"

Bruce didn't hesitate. With precise, deliberate pressure, he sealed the cool, yielding silicone cup directly over her exposed clit and hood. The seal was instant, airtight. Zatanna gasped, a sharp intake of breath as the sensation registered – cool confinement, sudden pressure differential. Then Bruce thumbed the activation control on his belt.

A deep, insistent thrum vibrated through the cup. Simultaneously, powerful, rhythmic suction clamped down. It wasn't gentle. It was immediate, demanding. Her tiny clit was engulfed, pulled deep into the cup's center by the vacuum. The vibration buzzed directly into the core of her nerve endings, a relentless, electric stimulation.

"FUCK!" Zatanna screamed, her body bowing off the chair as much as the restraints allowed. The dual assault – the deep, pulling suction stretching her sensitive flesh outward, combined with the intense, localized vibration – was overwhelming. Her clit felt instantly swollen, engorged, trapped in a vortex of sensation. Tears sprang to her eyes. "Ohgodohgodohgod!"

Bruce watched, rapt, his own arousal a palpable force in the room. He saw the silicone cup deform slightly as her flesh swelled rapidly against its confines. He saw the digital pressure gauge climb steadily. "There it is," he murmured, his voice rough with awe and lust. "Feel it growing, beloved? Feel that needy little pearl swelling up for me?" He adjusted the dial again; the suction intensified, the vibration pulsed stronger. "Getting nice and fat already. Begging beautifully."

The silicone cup released with a wet, sucking pop. Zatanna gasped, the sudden absence of pressure and vibration leaving her clit throbbing violently, exposed to the cool dungeon air. It felt alien – swollen, engorged, hypersensitive, the hood stretched taut over its new, prominent shape. Tears tracked down her temples, mingling with sweat.

Bruce immediately reached for the digital calipers, their cold chrome jaws gleaming. He handled her swollen flesh with meticulous care, spreading the hood gently with his thumb and forefinger to expose the flushed, distended bud fully. The metal touched the sides, measuring the engorged width. "Significant edema," he murmured, his voice thick with clinical fascination and raw lust. The tablet screen beside him flickered, updating the 3D model with the new dimensions, rendering her clit in stark, swollen detail.

"See?" Bruce angled the tablet towards her. The digital representation pulsed faintly, mimicking her heartbeat. "Look how greedy it is. How beautifully it responds." He traced the screen, then her actual flesh, the contrast surreal. "Fuck, Zee. It’s already twice its resting size. Begging to be bigger."

"Let it," Zatanna pleaded, her voice ragged, hips straining uselessly against the leather restraints binding her ankles and wrists. She felt the swollen nub pulse against the cool air, an insistent ache radiating deep into her core. "Please, Bruce. Put it back on. Make it stand out more. Make it huge… obscene… I need it fat and throbbing!" Her breath hitched. "I need to feel it stretch!"

Bruce’s gaze snapped from the tablet to her face, his eyes dark pools of controlled fire. He deliberately set the calipers aside with a soft clink. "No." The word was flat, final. He picked up the sleek electronic pump, its cup still glistening with her wetness, and placed it firmly back on the table, out of her immediate reach. "Not yet."

Zatanna whimpered, a sound of pure frustration. "Why? Bruce, please! I need it!"

"Because," he stated, moving to stand directly between her splayed legs, his imposing frame blocking her view of the pump, "we’re going slow." His hands settled warm and heavy on her inner thighs, just above the leather cuffs. His thumbs stroked the sensitive skin near her groin, a maddening proximity to her desperate core. "You’re going to earn it." His gaze dropped to her glistening, taped-open pussy, her entrance visibly clenching around nothing. "You need to cum first."

Her eyes widened. "Cum? From… from what?" Her clit throbbed, a beacon of unmet need.

"From here," Bruce murmured, his index finger sliding down through her slick folds with agonizing slowness. He bypassed her swollen clit entirely, circling instead the tight, fluttering ring of her entrance. The pad of his finger pressed lightly, testing her resistance, feeling the hot, slick heat radiating from within. "This greedy hole needs attention too." He dipped the very tip of his finger just inside, a teasing intrusion that drew a sharp gasp from her lips. "It needs to be teased. Opened. Made to spasm."

He withdrew his finger slowly, holding it up glistening. "And you’re going to cum," he commanded, his voice dropping to a low growl, "just from me playing with this hole. Nothing touches your clit until you do." He reached towards the low table laden with toys, his fingers bypassing the gleaming pumps and clamps. They closed around the smooth, polished curve of a dark obsidian plug, cool and substantial. "Understand?"

Panic and desperate arousal warred within her. Cumming without clit stimulation felt impossible, a cruel denial. Yet the promise of his touch, focused solely on that aching entrance, sent fresh rivulets of wetness trickling down her inner thighs. "Bruce… it’s… I can’t…" she stammered, her hips lifting instinctively towards the plug in his hand.

"You can," he countered, his voice brooking no argument. He brought the cool, smooth tip of the plug to her entrance, pressing gently. "You will." He traced her slick folds with it, coating it in her arousal, circling her clit near but never touching it, making her whimper. "Because you’re mine. And my greedy wife obeys." He pressed the tip harder, stretching her outer ring slightly. "Tell me you understand."

Zatanna swallowed, her gaze locked on his, drowning in the intensity. The denial of her clit was agony, but the focused promise on her other need was a different, deeper torment. "I understand," she breathed, her voice trembling. "Tease my hole. Make me cum from it." She pushed her hips down against the plug's insistent pressure. "Please, Bruce. Fuck me open with it."

A dark, satisfied smile touched Bruce’s lips. He withdrew the plug momentarily, dipping his fingers back into her slickness to coat it thoroughly. Then, with deliberate, relentless pressure, he pressed the cool, rounded tip against her resisting entrance. Her muscles clenched instinctively, fighting the intrusion. "Relax," he commanded, his thumb finding a spot high on her inner thigh, massaging firmly. "Open for me, Zee. Let it in."

He pushed. Slowly. Inexorably. The widest part of the plug stretched her tight ring, a burning, filling pressure that stole her breath. She gasped, her body arching, her bound hands clenching into fists. He paused, letting her adjust to the stretch, feeling her inner muscles flutter wildly around the invading object. "Good girl," he rasped, his own arousal evident in the tightness of his jaw. "Taking it so well."

With another firm, controlled push, the plug slid fully home, its flared base settling snugly against her. The fullness was immense, shocking. Zatanna cried out, a sound ripped from deep within her chest. Her pussy clenched violently around the intrusion, a wave of intense sensation radiating outwards. Bruce held it there, his hand firm on the base, applying subtle pressure. "Feel it?" he demanded, his eyes burning into hers. "Feel how deep it sits? How it stretches you?"

"Oh god… yes…" she moaned, her head thrashing back. The plug felt huge, unyielding, a constant, demanding presence inside her. Her swollen clit pulsed uselessly, ignored, amplifying the desperate ache centered lower.

"Now," Bruce murmured, his voice thick with intent. He began to move the plug. Not pulling it out, but rotating it slowly within her, grinding the smooth, cool stone against her inner walls. He pressed it forward, then angled it upwards, seeking the sensitive spot deep inside. His thumb found her perineum, pressing firmly against it through the thin barrier of skin, adding external pressure. "Just this," he breathed, watching her face contort with building sensation. "Just my fingers… and this plug… fucking your greedy hole." He twisted the plug sharply, grinding its widest point against her front wall. "Cum for me, Zatanna. Cum around it."