Chapter 18: Breakfast of Champions
The camera’s red recording light winked on, a single malevolent eye in the dimness. Its focus was tight, unforgiving. It saw only the pale, creamy expanse of Maggie’s ass, presented like an offering on the black leather of the bondage rig. Her cheeks were pulled ruthlessly apart by intricate leather straps that anchored to the frame, exposing everything: the deep, pink furl of her anus, slightly gaping and glistening, and below it, the slick, puffy lips of her cunt, swollen and gleaming with her own arousal. Her upper body was obscured, a tension in her bound wrists visible in the very edge of the frame, and the thick, black silicone cock-gag that filled her mouth was just a dark shadow against the crimson silk gag straps. Her fiery hair was piled up, out of the shot. The image was stark, obscene, profoundly intimate.
Ben’s hand entered the frame, his fingers tracing the outer rim of her asshole with a proprietary touch. The chat scrolled rapidly on a tablet screen just out of shot.
“There she is, folks,” Ben’s voice said, calm, conversational, a lecturer at a fucked-up museum. “The main attraction. You remember last week, how she came so hard she passed out after we flogged that pretty little clit of hers into submission. Beautiful. But see this?” His index finger tapped gently against her exposed rosebud, making her muscles flutter. “Look at that slight pout. That lazy little gape. That’s from the monster plug we left in her all night after the stream ended. She slept with it buried in her ass, dreaming of the stretch. And now… now it’s lost its discipline. It’s gotten spoiled. Loose.”
He leaned closer, his face now also in the high-angle shot, looking at the camera, his eyes sharp. “Maggie’s a good girl. She loves to be used. She craves it. But a good girl also needs structure. She needs her boundaries reinforced. Tonight, we’re going to remind this greedy little hole of its purpose. We’re going to spank it. We’re going to flog it. We’re going to make it pink, and hot, and tight again. And she’s going to thank us for it by cumming harder than she ever has in her life. Aren’t you, firecracker?”
A muffled, desperate sound came from Maggie, a whimper choked around the gag. Her cunt visibly dripped, a single, clear strand of her slickness hanging for a moment before falling onto the leather beneath her.
“See that?” Ben said, a grin in his voice. “She’s already so fucking wet. Her pussy is weeping just thinking about what her ass is going to get. She’s addicted to this, to the sting, to the shame, to being broken open and then made whole again on my terms.”
He left the frame and returned with a bottle of lube. He squeezed a generous, cold dollop directly onto her exposed anus. She jerked against her restraints, a sharp inhalation hissing through her nose. Ben spread the cool gel with his thumb, working it in slow, meticulous circles, first around the tight outer ring, then pressing inward. His thumb breached her, just the tip, and her hole clenched around it instantly, a reflexive spasm.
“Tighter already, just from a little attention,” he mused, his thumb pushing deeper, past the first knuckle. The sphincter resisted, then yielded, swallowing his digit to the base. He worked it in and out, a slow, obscene fucking motion. The lube made wet, sucking sounds that the sensitive microphone picked up perfectly. “But we need to remind it who’s in charge. We need to stretch it until it remembers what it feels like to be full. To be used.”
He removed his thumb, her hole winking open, glistening. He picked up a series of graduated steel butt plugs, lined up on a tray. He held a medium-sized one, beaded like a string of pearls, up to the camera. “We’re gonna stuff her. We’re gonna stretch this asshole until it begs for mercy. And then… then we’re gonna crop it. We’re gonna spank that stretched, needy flesh until it pulls itself in, puffs up all pink and tight and proper. A good, disciplined hole.”
He pressed the cool, blunt end of the first plug against her. He didn’t push. He just held it there, letting her feel the pressure. “You ready for this, Maggie? You want me to stuff you? Nod for the nice people.”
Her head, out of frame, nodded frantically. A choked, eager moan vibrated around the gag.
He pushed. The first bead popped past her resistance with a soft, wet sound. She groaned, long and low. He worked it steadily, until the widest part of the plug stretched her open, a smooth, metallic intrusion that made her muscles quiver. He held it there, buried to the base, letting her feel the stretch. The camera caught every detail: the way her hole distended around the steel, the way her ass cheeks tensed, the fresh welling of slickness from her cunt below.
“See how it gleams?” Ben said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. He twisted the plug, making the light catch on the slick metal. “See how it glistens? That’s her. That’s her wanting it. That’s her asshole accepting its fate. But this is just the warm-up. This isn’t the breaking point.”
He removed it, her hole gaping wider, darker, a slick pink portal. He went up a size. This one was thicker, smooth and tapering. He lubed it generously, pressing the tip against her now-vulnerable entrance. “This one’s gonna stretch you, Maggie. This one’s gonna make that pretty little pucker sing.”
He applied firm, unrelenting pressure. Her body went rigid, a strangled scream catching in her gagged throat. Her hole resisted, clenching furiously against the invasion, but he pushed through the tight ring of muscle, steady and relentless. It gave way with a soft, wet pop, and the thick plug slid home, filling her profoundly. A shudder wracked her entire frame. Her ass was stretched taut around the shining steel, the skin strained and glowing under the lights. Her cunt was a river now, her slickness pooling on the leather.
“Fuck, look at that,” Ben breathed, addressing the chat. “Look how open she is. Look how her other hole is just fucking dripping for it. She loves this. She needs this. But an asshole this greedy, this open… it needs to be taught a lesson. It needs to remember how to be a good, tight little hole.”
He left the thick plug buried in her for a full minute, letting the audience watch her struggle, watch the occasional involuntary clench around the foreign object, watch the sheer obscenity of her exposure. Then, with a slow, deliberate pull, he withdrew it.
Her anus gaped. It was a dark, wet, pulsing circle, slack and utterly used. It glistened with lube and her own natural juices, a wanton, open mouth.
Ben picked up a small, stiff flogger with narrow, rubber falls. He ran the tips lightly over her stretched, vulnerable hole. She flinched, a sharp inhale. “This,” he said softly, “is where we begin the discipline.”
He raised the flogger. The first stroke wasn’t hard, but it was precise. The rubber tips landed squarely on the puffy, exposed rim of her anus with a sharp, stinging slap. The sound was crisp, intimate.
Maggie’s body convulsed. A mangled scream tore through the gag. Her hole, impossibly, clenched tight for a split second around nothing, a shocked spasm, before gaping open again, even redder where the rubber had struck.
“There,” Ben cooed. “Feel that? That’s the correction starting.”
He brought the flogger down again, another sharp, accurate strike on the same tender ring of muscle. Another choked scream. Her body thrashed against the restraints, her cunt gushing. He spanked her asshole a third time, a fourth, each blow landing with a cruel, clinical precision. The pink flesh was turning a bright, heated red. It was no longer a slack, open maw; it was a throbbing, stung target, pulling in on itself defensively after each impact, only to be forced open again by the next.
“It’s pulling in, see?” Ben said, his voice thick with arousal and control. “It’s remembering. It’s getting tight for me. It wants to be a good hole again. But we’re not done. Not nearly.”
He switched to a wider, softer flogger. “Now we’re going to make it glow.”
The broader falls covered more area, wrapping around her cheeks and landing with a heavier, thudding impact on her stinging rosebud. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. The rhythm was slow, deliberate. Each blow made her entire body jolt. Her screams had dissolved into continuous, broken sobs around the gag, tears streaking from the corners of her eyes, visible now as her head tossed in the edge of the frame. Her ass was a uniform, fiery pink, her anus a tight, red, gleaming jewel at its center, swollen from the combination of stretching and punishment.
Ben dropped the flogger. His hand, slick with her own juices from her dripping cunt, came down and cupped her burning cheek, then slid down to press his thumb firmly against her punished, super-sensitive hole. She screamed, a raw, ragged sound of overstimulation.
“There,” he growled, his composure slipping for a moment, revealing the raw hunger beneath. “There’s my good, tight girl. Look at that. Look how perfect it is now. Beaten back into shape. All pink and pissed off and fucking perfect.”
He leaned down, his mouth close to her ear, his words a rough whisper meant for her and the microphone. “You gonna cum for me now, Maggie? You gonna thank me for making your asshole so pretty and tight again? You’re so wet your pussy is begging. Let’s give it what it wants.”
His hand left her ass and plunged down, two fingers spearing into her soaked, desperate cunt in one brutal, unforgiving thrust.
His fingers curled inside her, a cruel hook finding that swollen, internal ridge. Her back arched violently, a silent shriek straining against the gag. Her cunt clamped down on his invading fingers, a wet, convulsive vise. "There it is," Ben grunted, his own breath hot and ragged. "That desperate, filthy pulse. You're thrumming for it."
He scissored his fingers, stretching her slick channel, the sound obscenely wet. He watched her stretched, punished asshole twitch and pucker in counterpoint to each movement inside her pussy. "Your ass is all pink and proper now, thanks to me," he said, his voice dropping to a growl meant for her ear alone. "But look at this greedy cunt. Soaking my hand. Begging for something else entirely." He withdrew his fingers with a slick pop, holding them up to the camera, glistening and draped in her essence.
"Not yet," he murmured, wiping his fingers slowly on her inner thigh. "Discipline first. You came last time because your clit got what it wanted. This time, your ass gets what it needs."
He reached for the tray again. Past the medium-sized plugs lay his true objectives: a series of progressively larger, bulbous silicone monstrosities. He selected one, a deep violet, its widest point obscenely broad, tapering to a neck meant to challenge. He slicked it with more lube, the coldness making her flinch as he smeared it over her tender, freshly-spanked hole.
"This," Ben said, hefting the weight of it in his palm for the camera, "is where the real training begins. Your hole got a taste of stretch before, with the steel. It got soft. Lazy. Now we teach it to crave the burn, the real fullness." He pressed the blunt, cool tip against her tightened ring. The spanking had made her clench defensively, but the muscle was fatigued, trembling from the onslaught.
"Open," he commanded, applying steady, inexorable pressure. Her muffled groan was a mix of protest and visceral want. The silicone stretched her resistant pucker, distorting it into a taut oval around the invading tip. "That's it, Maggie. Take it. You love this. You dream of being stuffed like this, don't you?" He pushed harder, his knuckles white with effort. Her body shook, a low, continuous moan escaping her. With a final, wet, surrendering pop, the widest part of the plug breached her. She screamed into the gag, her entire frame seizing.
He held it there, buried to the neck, letting her feel the overwhelming fullness, the burn of the stretch. Her asshole was a distorted wreath of silicone and strained, pink flesh. "Look at that," he breathed, awe and cruelty mingling in his tone. "Look how it swallows it. Your pretty little pucker is gone. It's a mouth now. A hungry, stretched mouth." He gave the plug a slight, twisting turn. Her cry was guttural, her cunt flooding anew.
He didn't let her adjust. He worked it out, slowly, the sucking sound loud in the quiet room. Her hole gaped, a dark, wet O, slack and throbbing. He immediately picked up the next one, black this time, even wider. "More," he stated, simply. The process repeated, but harder. Her resistance was melting into a delirious, pained compliance. The black plug forced its way in, stretching her beyond what seemed possible. The camera captured every detail: the dark silicone disappearing into her body, the way her cheeks strained around the massive intrusion, the flutter of her exhausted sphincter around the narrow neck.
"Fuck, Maggie," Ben moaned, watching her take it. "You're obscene. You're a fucking miracle of depravity." He leaned close, his lips brushing her ear. "You want the fist-sized one, don't you? You want to feel your insides rearranged. Nod."
Through tears and spit and overwhelming sensation, her head nodded frantically.
He pulled the black plug free. Her anus didn't close. It remained a slack, open tunnel, quivering, her inner muscles visibly exhausted. Ben coated the largest plug, a monstrous thing of translucent amber silicone, in a thick layer of lube. He pressed it against her ruinously open entrance. There was almost no resistance, just a slow, grotesque yielding as the immense bulb began to sink into her. It was a gradual, mesmerizing violation. Her body accepted it with a deep, shuddering sigh, her fight utterly gone, replaced by a trance-like state of profound penetration.
It slid home, the base settling heavily against her ravaged rim. She was full, impossibly, completely full. Her stomach even showed a slight, taut bulge. Ben let his hand rest on the cool silicone base protruding from her body. "There," he whispered. "Now you're trained. Now you're ready. Your hole is worn out, slack, perfect. It's nothing but a wet, open sleeve. And now," he said, his voice shifting, hardening, "now we discipline it."
He picked up the small, stinging flogger again. He touched the rubber tips to the sensitive skin stretched taut around the base of the massive plug. She whimpered, a hollow, spent sound.
"The show's starting, firecracker," Ben said, his eyes on the camera lens, a dark promise in his gaze. "Your ass is a wet, stretched-out mess. Let's see if we can spank it tight again."
The first slap landed not on her cheek, but on the tender, stretched skin directly circling the base of the amber plug. A sharp, precise crack echoed. Maggie’s body, already strung wire-tight, jolted against the leather restraints. A sharp, nasal whine escaped her gagged mouth.
“Feel that?” Ben asked, his voice low and conversational against the hum of the equipment. “That’s the lesson starting.” He spanked the same spot again, his palm striking the sensitive junction where silicone met ravaged flesh. Her hole clenched reflexively around the massive intrusion, a feeble, impossible attempt to tighten.
He settled into a rhythm. Spank. Spank. Spank. Each blow was measured, deliberate, landing in a cruel orbit around the plug’s base. Her skin flushed a hotter pink, then a deep, angry red. Her screams were muffled, wet things, full of spit and pleading. Her cunt, utterly neglected, wept a continuous stream onto the leather beneath her, a slick testament to the obscene connection between the pain in her ass and the throbbing need between her legs.
“Look at that,” Ben grunted, pausing to run a thumb over the heated, punished skin. It was blazing hot. “Getting there. Pinking up nice. But it’s still too loose around this toy. It needs to remember how to grip.” He wrapped his hand around the cold, slick base of the plug. He didn’t pull it out. Instead, he pushed it in another inch, a brutal, deeper penetration that made her eyes roll back. Her stomach distended slightly, a taut curve beneath her skin.
Then he began to fuck her with it.
He pulled it back until just the widest bulb threatened to pop free, then slammed it home in a short, brutal stroke. Her entire body slid forward on the rig with the force. A guttural, shattered sound was torn from her.
“There,” he breathed, his own control fraying. He did it again. Out, then in, a hard, mechanical piston. The wet, sucking squelch of her over-lubricated asshole accepting the violation filled the room. Each thrust forced a punched-out grunt from her lungs. Her stomach bulged visibly with every inward plunge, a rhythmic deformation under the lights.
“See that?” Ben gasped, his arm working steadily. “See your fucking belly? That’s me. That’s my toy in your guts, Maggie. I’m rearranging you.” He picked up the pace, the fucking becoming faster, less controlled. The plug was a blur of amber silicone, glistening wet each time it pulled free before burying itself inside her again. Her stretched hole was a dark, wet maw, gaping uselessly around the punishing rhythm.
She was beyond words, beyond thought. Her world had narrowed to the brutal fullness in her core, the burn of the spanked skin, the electric, screaming feedback loop that connected the assault on her ass directly to her clit. Her hips twitched, trying to meet the thrusts, a traitorous, instinctive grind. A new, higher-pitched keen ripped through the gag.
“You’re gonna cum,” Ben stated, his voice raw with strain. He wasn’t asking. He was reading her body like a manifest. “You’re gonna cum from getting your asshole fucked stupid by a piece of silicone. You filthy, perfect slut.” He hammered into her, a final, relentless series of strokes, using the plug to brutalize her insides.
Her climax wasn’t a wave; it was a seismic detonation. It ripped through her with no warning, a convulsive, violent implosion of pure sensation. Her back arched so severely the leather creaked in protest. A silent, breathless scream locked in her chest. Her cunt exploded in a series of frantic, dry pulses, ejecting a fresh gout of slickness. Her asshole, around the violently still plug, fluttered and clenched in a rapid, spastic rhythm she could not control.
Ben held the plug deep, burying it to the hilt as she unraveled. He watched her stomach finally still, the bulge pronounced. He watched the tears cascade from her screwed-shut eyes. He watched the aftershocks make her limbs twitch like a downed power line.
Slowly, he withdrew the plug. It emerged with a final, wet sigh. Her anus gaped, a utterly spent, puffy, and red-rimmed crater. It pulsed open and closed slowly, helplessly, trying to remember its shape.
He leaned down, his lips close to her ear, his breath hot. “Now it’s tight,” he murmured, the sound crisp for the microphone. “Swollen shut. A good, well-spanked, well-fucked hole.” He ran a single, possessive finger around the ruined rim. She flinched, a full-body shudder of over-sensitivity. “Job’s done.”