Chapter 36: Deep Breeding Protocol
The suspension ropes bit into the flesh of her thighs and shoulders, a familiar, biting embrace that left her hanging in the center of the room, utterly displayed. Her world was a symphony of relentless sensation, each instrument tuned to a different pitch of desperation.
The huge, ribbed silicone dick in her ass was a fact of existence. It pistoned automatically, a deep, sliding invasion that stretched her colon with thick, unforgiving ridges. Each inward stroke was a low, internal groan of fullness; each withdrawal a vacuum that made her hips jerk, begging for it to return. It was connected to a silent, powerful motor on the floor, its steady hum the bass note to her torment.
Her tits were thrust forward by the tight leather harness, bound so that they jutted out obscenely, like swollen offerings. From each engorged nipple, a long, reddened teat was stretched by a cruel clover clamp. Tiny tubes from a dual-pump system were attached to the clamps themselves, and with a soft, periodic click-hiss, they applied a rhythmic, tugging suction, pulling the sensitized flesh even longer, making them ache with a delicious sharpness. They swayed heavily with every jolt from the ass-fucking machine, each movement a fresh jolt of needy pain.
But her focus, a ragged and pleading thing, was lower. The tight leather corset sheathed the monumental length of her clit, squeezing it into a thick, veined column that strained against the restraint. Only the swollen, purplish head was exposed, protruding obscenely from the laced opening, slick with her own excitement and glistening under the candlelight.
Around it, three small, black spanking drones hovered on nearly silent rotors. They were Ben’s latest creation. One would dart in, its tiny silicone paddle smacking the hypersensitive tip with a sharp, stinging thwack that made her shriek. Another would vibrate violently against the frenulum, a buzzing insult. The third would simply hover, a menacing promise, before joining the unpredictable assault. Maggie lolled back in her restraints, her head thrown back, a string of drool connecting her lip to her shoulder. Her hips canted forward, a hopeless, lewd offering, trying to push her exposed “fuckpole,” as Ben called it, into the path of the next strike, the next buzz. She was babbling, a continuous stream of “please” and “more” and “yes, right there.”
The door opened. Ben stood there, already naked, his cock thick and upright in his hand. He watched the scene—the machine fucking her ass, her tits being milked, her clit being tormented by the drones—and his eyes burned with possessive pride.
“Look at this fucking spectacle,” he said, his voice calm against the backdrop of her whimpering and the mechanical sounds. He walked over, his hand coming to rest on her sloshing belly, remembering the inflation, now a permanent precursor to this. “My perfect broodmare. All rigged up and ready to be planted. Those drones making your monster clit nice and throbbing for me? Making it hungry?”
“Ben…fuck…please…” she slurred, her green eyes glassy.
“Please what, Mags?” He stepped closer, the head of his cock nudging against her sopping lower lips. Her pussy, untouched amidst all the other violations, wept freely, a slick mess of need. “Please fuck this fertile, empty cunt? Please pump it full of cum while that machine rearranges your guts and those pumps turn your nipples into proper bottle-feeders?”
“Yes! God, yes, please breed it, breed me, I’m empty, I need it—” Her words cut off as a drone spanked her clit head sharply. She screamed, a sound of pure overload.
“That’s what I want to hear.” He positioned himself, not rushing. He let the head of his cock just press against her entrance, teasing the swollen flesh. He watched the drones continue their work, watched her try to fuck the air against his tentative touch. “You’re gonna take this seed so deep. It’s gonna swim right past this dripping, pretty pussy and find a home. And every time that dildo rams your ass, it’s gonna shake my cum deeper into you.”
With that, he sank into her. Not a hard thrust, but a slow, inexorable claiming, sheathing himself in her incredible wet heat. Her internal walls, already spasming from the anal intrusion, clenched around him wildly.
“Oh fuck, yes,” he grunted, his composure slipping. He braced his hands on the ropes at her hips. “That’s it. That’s the cunt that’s gonna carry my kid. So fucking greedy for it.”
He began to move, establishing a rough, driving rhythm that fought against the piston of the machine in her ass. The two penetrations created a punishing, syncopated beat inside her. Thrust from Ben, slide from the dildo. Withdrawal from Ben, invasion from the machine. She was split open, filled beyond reason.
The click-hiss of the nipple pumps pulled at her stretched teats in time with his breathing. A drone vibrated hard against her clit head, then spanked it. The sensations were a tidal wave, crashing over her from every possible direction.
“You feel that, Maggie?” Ben growled, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, his balls slapping against her. “You feel that ass getting reamed while your cunt gets bred? You feel those nipples getting prepped to leak? This is what you’re built for. You’re my set of holes to be used and filled and a big, fucking clit to be punished. And you love it. You love being my pregnant little fuck-toy.”
His words were the final key. Her orgasm didn’t build; it erupted from the chaos, a seismic event that tore through her suspended body. Her back arched violently against the ropes. A ragged, continuous scream tore from her throat. Her pussy clamped down on Ben’s cock in a series of brutal, milking spasms. Her ass clenched rhythmically around the pounding dildo. Her huge, tormented clit pulsed visibly, jetting a thin stream of clear fluid into the air that spattered the corset leather.
Her climax was a seismic surrender that left her shuddering in the ropes, but the machines showed no mercy. The piston in her ass drove forward with a renewed, grinding purpose. It was no longer just sliding; it was spearing deeper, stuffing a thicker stretch of colon, aiming for a place that made her eyes fly wide open behind a sheen of tears.
A low, guttural “ooof” was punched from her lungs. Her abdomen, still softly rounded from the previous night’s inflation, visibly pushed outward a fraction more with each deep, internal nudge. The full feeling was monumental, a profound pressure that anchored her to the relentless present.
Ben watched the subtle distension with dark fascination, his own hips never ceasing their rhythmic drive into her clenching, milking cunt. He slid a sweat-slick hand from her hip up to palm her lower belly, rubbing the tight curve. “Feel that, Maggie? That’s you getting fucking packed. That asshole is swallowing that toy whole. Makes your belly look so fucking ripe already.”
He used his other hand to fist the leather-bound base of her monstrous clit. It was still throbbing violently from its own orgasmic spray. He pulled it upward, angling the exposed, weeping head higher, presenting it. “This damn thing. Even when it’s spent, it’s begging for more. Gotta keep it honest.”
He issued a soft verbal command. One of the hovering drones, the one that had been menacingly idle, zipped forward. Its new target was the swollen, tender base where her clit emerged from the corset. It began a rapid, fluttering tattoo of spanks, tiny silicone paddles beating a merciless rhythm on the hyper-sensitive root.
Another drone, previously focusing on vibration, repositioned with inhuman precision. It began a continuous, feather-light spanking of her clit’s very tip, a maddening, incessant flick-flick-flick against the bruised gland. Her shaft, trapped in leather, thickened and pulsed anew, a trapped animal reacting to pure stimulus.
“Look at that,” Ben grunted, his thrusts becoming shorter, deeper aimed grinds that pressed the head of his cock directly against her cervix with every drive. “It’s getting hard again already. I want you to suck your clit off while I'm impregnating you, Magpie. Shove that huge cock down your throat with mine in your cunt.”
He leaned close, his breath hot in her ear, his voice a rough, intimate scrape. “And these gorgeous, thick nipples… fuck, Maggie. They’re not just getting milked anymore.” As if on cue, the pump system attached to her clamped teats gave a sharp, internal click. A new sensation erupted inside the suction tubes—a rapid, tiny pounding against the very tips of her stretched nipples, like minute fists spanking her from the inside.
The effect was instantaneous and catastrophic. Maggie’s entire body went rigid, then splintered. A sharp, guttural cry tore from her, devoid of words, pure reactive noise. Her cunt, already rhythmically squeezing him, convulsed in a different, flooding way.
It wasn’t the rhythmic milking of an orgasm. It was an uncontrolled, gushing release. Her pussy spasmed open and a hot, clear torrent of fluid ejected around Ben’s driving cock, soaking his pelvis, her thighs, the ropes below with a sound like a splash. She was squirting, helplessly, triggered by the internal violation of her nipples and the deep cervical grinding.
“Jesus Christ!” Ben shouted, exhilarated, pounding into the sudden, slippery flood. “That’s it! That’s your greedy cunt fucking milking me! Trying to suck the seed right out with its little fucking panic! Drench me, you filthy bitch. Soak my cock while I plant it.”
He rode the wave of her uncontrolled squirting, his own jaw tight with the effort of holding back. His balls were drawn up tight, a fierce ache building at the base of his spine. The vision of her—belly subtly distended by the deep-fucking dildo, tits being spanked from within, clit being tormented by drones, and now her cunt showering them both—was almost too much.
But he didn’t cum. He forced his breathing to steady, slowing his hips to a torturous, shallow grind, keeping his cockhead lodged right against her weeping cervix. “Not yet,” he panted, more to himself than to her. “Not until this womb knows exactly what’s coming for it. Until you’re so fucking ruined you can’t think straight.”
Until you’re so fucking ruined you can’t think straight.”
He meant it. His withdrawal was slow, a slick, hot slide that left her empty and clenching at the ghost of him. The machines, however, didn’t relent. The dildo in her ass maintained its deep, piston rhythm, a brutal counterpoint to the sudden vacancy in her cunt. The internal spanking on her nipple tips continued its tiny, relentless assault.
Maggie whimpered, a broken sound. Her body trembled in the ropes, a live wire of denied completion. “Ben, please,” she gasped, the words soggy and thick. “I need it. I need you to fill it up. Please.”
“Tell me why.” He wasn’t asking. He was commanding. He stepped closer again, his cock glistening with her fluids, and wrapped a firm hand around the leather-bound base of her huge clit. He squeezed, not hard, but possessively. The drones adjusted their pattern, one now spanking the very tip in a steady, maddening beat while another vibrated against the frenulum.
“Because it’s empty!” she cried out, her hips straining forward. “It’s your cunt and it’s empty and it needs your come!”
“Needs it for what, Maggie?” He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. His other hand slid down her slick belly, fingers splaying over the slight, firm curve left by the inflator and the deep-fucking machine. “What’s this hungry, pretty pussy want my seed for?”
Her mind was stripping down, layer by layer, under the combined tortures. The truth spilled out, filthy and raw. “To get knocked up! To make a baby! To swell up with your kid!” Each admission was a gasp, punctuated by the spanking drone on her clit.
“And this?” He gave her bound clit a rough, shaking jerk. “What’s this monster want while your womb fills up?”
“It wants… it wants to be your cock! It wants to be spanked and used and watch you breed me!” The confession ignited her. Her permanently erect shaft pulsed violently in his grip, another thin stream of clear fluid spitting from its tip onto his wrist.
“Good girl.” The praise was a warm balm over the abraded nerves of her psyche. “Now you get your reward.”
He positioned himself and sank back into her with a single, deep, claiming thrust that buried him to the hilt. The impact shoved her cervix, a profound internal kiss that stole her breath. He didn’t pull out. He stayed there, grinding the broad head of his cock against that tender entrance, a slow, circular massage of pure possession.
“Yeah,” he breathed, his forehead dropping to her shoulder. “There it is. That’s the door. And I’m knocking, Maggie. I’m gonna knock until it opens and lets me in. Until my come’s swimming so deep in you it’ll find a home.”
He began to move again, a series of short, brutal drives that focused all their force on that one spot. Each thrust was a punctuation to his words. “You feel that? That’s the tip of my dick saying hello to your ovaries. It’s asking if they’re ready. It’s telling them to get fucking ready.”
The sensation was beyond pleasure. It was a primal, cellular communication. Her cervix, sensitized and softened by her own relentless arousal and the hormonal cascade of her fantasies, yielded to the pressure. It wasn’t penetration, but a deep, yielding acknowledgment, a rhythmic kissing against the hardest part of him.
Her clit, under the dual torment of his grip and the drones, felt like a separate heart pounding between her legs. Her pussy, around his grinding cock, was a slick, clasping fist. The squirt from before had been a preview. This was the main event.
“I’m gonna… Ben, I’m gonna…” Her warning was a choked sob.
“Do it,” he snarled, his pace becoming frantic, his own control fissuring. “Squirt on my cock while I breed you. Soak my balls. Let me feel that fertile cunt celebrating. Milk me with it.”
It broke her. The orgasm was a white-hot detonation centered on her cervix, then radiating out in convulsive waves. Her pussy didn’t just clamp—it erupted. A hot, gushing flood of fluid rushed out around his pounding shaft, a continuous, pulsing stream that soaked his thighs, her thighs, the floor beneath them with a sound like pouring rain.
At the same time, her monstrous clit unleashed its own payload. Freed from his grip for a second, it jerked and spat another volley of thick, clear cum into the air, the arcs catching the candlelight.
“That’s it! Fuck yes, milk me, you perfect fucking broodmare!” Ben roared, his own climax tearing through him. He slammed into her one last, searing time, his body locking against hers. She felt the hot, distinct pulse of his release directly against her kissed and yielding cervix, a deep, internal jet that seemed to go on and on, mixing with the flood of her own squirt.
He collapsed against her, his weight supported by the ropes, his breath harsh in her ear. The machines whirred to a gradual, groaning stop. The drones settled on the floor. The only sounds were their ragged breathing and the steady drip… drip… drip from their joined bodies.
Slowly, carefully, he began to unlace the harnesses and loosen the ropes. He lowered her shaking, spent body into the soaked sheets. He pulled the dildo from her ass with a soft, wet pop and disposed of the clamps and tubes with gentle hands. He fetched a warm cloth and cleaned her belly, her swollen sex, her bruised and glorious clit with a tenderness that belied the preceding violence.
He curled around her, his hand returning to rest on her lower stomach. “Deep,” he whispered, kissing her damp hair. “I got it so deep in you, Mags.”
She could only hum, a shattered, satisfied sound. She pressed back against him, her hand covering his on her belly, already imagining a different, slower kind of swelling. The candle guttered, casting one final, long shadow before going out, leaving them in a dark that felt like peace.