Chapter 7: The Plug's Relentless Conquest
The click of the speculum's release mechanism was deafening in the sudden quiet. The tension in the metal vanished, and with a slow, deliberate pull, Bruce drew the instrument out of her. Zatanna gasped as the cold steel slid free, leaving behind a hollow, aching emptiness. The air of the dungeon felt shockingly cool against her brutally stretched flesh.
"Look," Bruce commanded, his voice rough as he held the glistening speculum before her eyes. "Look what I did to you."
Her vision, blurred with tears and sweat, focused on the thing. It was wet with her, the polished blades gleaming. She could see the immense, unnatural gap it had created in her, a void that now pulsed with a dull, throbbing need.
Before the feeling could crystallize into anything coherent, he was moving again. In his other hand was the plug, a sinister-looking thing of ribbed steel, each ridge a promise of fresh stretching. The tip was already slicked with a clear lubricant that caught the candlelight.
"Now we fill the space I made," he murmured, pressing the cold, rounded tip against her slackened opening.
Her body, trained and broken, offered no resistance. The first thick ridge slid in with a shocking, obscene ease, the metal a familiar invasion. But it was the second ridge that made her cry out—a sudden, stretching burn as her inner walls, still tender from the speculum, were forced to accommodate the new, relentless diameter.
"Fuck, Bruce," she whimpered, her head falling back against the leather bench.
"Watch," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for disobedience.
She forced her eyes down, past the swell of her breasts, past the silver ring biting into her protruding clit, to where their bodies met. She watched, mesmerized and horrified, as the third ridge disappeared into her, making her twitching hole visibly distend around the thick steel. Her anus, red and used, looked like a hungry mouth swallowing the thing whole.
Each ridge was a slow, deliberate conquest. Her inner muscles fluttered, a chaotic, helpless spasm around the unyielding metal. And with every inch the plug sank deeper, her cunt, ignored and weeping, would clench and gush another hot stream of arousal that dripped down onto the bench and pattered softly on the stone floor.
"See how your body thanks me?" Bruce said, his thumb finding her bound clit and pressing down hard. "See how this pretty little clit jumps every time I stuff your ass?"
It was true. The violent twitching of her oversensitive nub was a direct, pathetic echo of the plug's progress. The pleasure was a sharp, bright wire connected directly to the deep, full ache in her core.
He worked the plug in to the final, thickest ridge, seating it fully with a firm, final push that stole her breath. She was impossibly full, stretched to a degree she could never have imagined. The weight of it inside her was a constant, filthy reminder of her submission.
"Please," she begged, the word a mere breath. "Please, I need…"
"You need to watch," Bruce growled, his voice a low command that cut through her haze. He gripped the base of the ribbed steel plug, its cold weight still buried deep in her ass, and began to pull it out with excruciating slowness. Her eyes, wide and fixed on the sight, saw her own stretched anal ring clinging to each ridge as it emerged, the flesh glistening and protesting the withdrawal.
He pushed it back in, just as slowly, filling her again with that familiar, brutal fullness. The rhythm was a deliberate torture, each thrust making her inner walls flutter and clench around the unyielding metal. "See how you take it?" he muttered, his breath hot on her neck. "See how your hole opens for me like a hungry little mouth?"
Her bound clit jumped violently with every inward push, a frantic pulse against the silver ring. Bruce lowered his head, his mouth finding the swollen nub, and he sucked it hard, his tongue circling and flicking in time with the plug's movements. The dual sensation sent electric shocks through her, her back arching off the leather bench.
"God, your cunt is dripping," he said, his fingers sliding easily into her soaked folds. He worked them in and out, matching the pace of the plug, his thumb pressing down on her perineum. "It's twitching like a live wire, so fucking wet and ready to gush."
She could feel the pressure building, a coiled spring in her core. "It's so swollen," he continued, his voice raw. "Your pussy is clenching around my fingers, all hot and slippery, and I can see it pulsing, begging to squirt. Every time I fuck this plug into your ass, your cunt weeps another stream, coating my hand."
She moaned, her hips bucking uncontrollably, the pleasure a sharp, relentless wave. But he kept her teetering on the edge, his movements precise and denying. "You love this," he whispered against her clit, sucking gently now. "You love being stretched and filled, don't you?" Her breath hitched in agreement, the ache profound and perfect.
Her breath hitched in agreement, the ache profound and perfect.
“Then show me,” he growled, his voice stripping away the last of her control. He began fucking her with the plug in earnest now, no longer slow and teasing but with hard, purposeful thrusts that stretched her with each brutal push. The ridges of the steel toy dragged against her sensitized inner walls, a relentless friction that made her see stars.
His mouth returned to her clit, his tongue a wicked, precise instrument against the ring-bound flesh. He sucked and licked, his fingers still pistoning in her sopping cunt, the wet, filthy sounds echoing his movements. “This cunt is drowning my hand, Zee,” he grunted, his breath hot against her. “It’s clenching like a fist, you’re so fucking close.”
The pressure was a live wire in her core, a screaming tension coiling tighter with every thrust of the plug and every flick of his tongue. Her hips bucked wildly, her restraints creaking as she strained against them. “I can’t—Bruce, I’m gonna—”
“You’re gonna squirt all over this bench,” he commanded, driving the plug deep and holding it there, stretching her to her absolute limit. “You’re gonna gush for me like the filthy, perfect slut you are. Now.”
His words were the final trigger. The orgasm detonated, a raw, screaming wave that tore through her. Her back arched violently off the leather as a hot, uncontrollable torrent erupted from her, splashing over his working hand and soaking the bench beneath her with a sound like pouring rain. Wave after wave of it left her, each convulsion milking the steel in her ass and clenching around his fingers until she was spent, collapsing back onto the wet leather, utterly broken and consumed.
Wave after wave of it left her, each convulsion milking the steel in her ass and clenching around his fingers until she was spent, collapsing back onto the wet leather, utterly broken and consumed.
Her breath came in ragged, sobbing gasps, the air cool on her sweat-sheened skin. Bruce watched her, his own breathing heavy, his gaze intense and analytical even now. He slowly withdrew his slick fingers from her cunt, the sound obscenely wet in the quiet room.
“You’re not done,” he stated, his voice low and certain. His hand moved to the base of the steel plug still buried deep within her.
Zatanna’s eyes flew open, a weak protest forming on her lips. “Bruce, I can’t… it’s too much.”
He ignored her, his grip firm on the cold, ribbed metal. “Your body disagrees.” With a single, brutal, twisting pull, he dragged the plug out of her.
The sensation was a lightning bolt of shocking, empty friction. Her stretched ring clenched violently around nothing, a spasm so profound it seemed to trigger a circuit deep in her core. A guttural cry was torn from her throat as a second, unexpected orgasm seized her. A hot, clear stream jetted from her with shocking force, splashing against his thigh and adding to the soaked mess on the leather beneath her. It was a raw, involuntary surrender, wringing a final, trembling shudder from her exhausted frame.
He held the glistening plug up, her own arousal dripping from its ridges. “Look at that,” he murmured, a note of dark satisfaction in his voice. “Your body gives me everything.”
He leaned down, his mouth close to her ear, his voice a whisper. “And I’m not nearly finished with you yet.”
He let the words hang in the beeswax-scented air, a promise and a threat woven together. His fingers, still slick from her cunt, traced the swollen, hyper-sensitive flesh around her gaping hole. Zatanna flinched at the touch, a fresh tremor running through her exhausted limbs.
“You’re so open now,” he observed, his voice low and clinical. He picked up the ribbed steel plug, its surface gleaming with a fresh coat of lubricant. “Let’s see how much you remember.”
The cold tip pressed against her once more, a familiar intrusion she both dreaded and craved. He didn’t slide it in. He stuffed it, using short, quick, almost impatient strokes that made her gasp. Each brief, shallow thrust stretched the tender ring of muscle, a rapid-fire assault on her nerves.
Her body, still humming from the aftershocks of her climax, fought the invasion for only a second. Then, with a shuddering sigh, her hole’s elasticity gave way, dilating wide to take the fucking. The strokes deepened, becoming longer and more purposeful as her resistance melted into acceptance. He worked the entire length of the plug back into her with this methodical, penetrating rhythm, until the base was seated firmly against her, the full, ridged length of it buried inside her once more.
“There,” he grunted, giving the base a final, twisting push. “Sealed shut.”
The fullness was immense, a constant, pressing reminder of his possession. She felt stuffed, impossibly stretched, every slight movement sending echoes through her core. He leaned over her, his muscular frame blocking the candlelight, and captured her mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. She could taste herself on his lips, salty and primal.