She is bound to a bench, blindfolded. She is laid out on her stomach, legs and arms outstretched. She is naked, she is helpless, she is beautiful. She is incomplete.
She is here to learn.
The Machine is brought to her, she can hear the scraping as it is positioned.
"Please..." she says. "Please, let me go..." she is crying. The Machine is placed at her anus, the mighty phallus glistens in the light. She cannot see, it is ready for her. The Machine pushes into her, her virgin asshole vainly attempts to resist.
"No!" she screams, but the Machine is deaf to her pleas for release. She is here to learn, it is the Machine that is to be released. "Please! Stop!" she screams and the Machine continues. The Machine never stops.
Her pain fills the air, tangible in its glory. The Machine pushes onward, inward, her newly broken ass heroically accepts its mighty phallus. Now the Machine is prepared but she is not. She is left to cry in her darkness while her will conforms to the Machine.
**********
Now she is ready, now she begins the lesson. Now the Machine begins to take her. Slowly she is reamed, the Machine owns her ass forever.
The Machine never stops.
"Please stop," she sobs. Her cry is feeble, She has already begun to accept but she does not yet understand, she is here to learn.
The Machine is patient, methodical, she must be stretched to perfection not ruination. Her asshole grows wider, her tolerance deeper, it's only a matter of time. The thrust is timed to monotony, her rhythms will adapt to the Machine. In and out, deep to shallow, undulating asshole. Glorious asshole.
It is lathered to ease her pain, but she will become accustomed.
She is here to learn.
"Please... stop... no..." she voices her defiance, it is to be expected. She has only just begun. Her ass will take the Machine, and it will be better for it. She will be improved, empowered, her ass will take it all.
The Machine keeps the pace, thrusting into her anal abyss, it will be a great cavern of please when she has learned.
She is left to love the Machine in solitude, it will continue the lesson. The Machine never stops.
**********
She is found in the embrace of the Machine, her desperate sobs are belied by her gentle thrusts. She is accepting the Machine's love. She is truly blessed. She has wet herself, the stench is thick. She is hosed down, the Machine likes her clean. She is fed through a straw, a liquid diet. The Machine likes her lean.
"Please, no more, stop... please..." She is taken by the joy, her words are denied her, eloquence fails in light of the Machine's pleasure. The Machine takes her harder, faster, deeper.
"Nooooo!" she wails to her darkness, "no, no, no...." it is the embrace of the Machine, it is demanding, it is hungry, insatiable. The Machine never stops. She is lathered to ease her pain, to aid the passing of the Machine into her glorious emptiness.
"Please," she stutters. The Machine has taken her breath, her cries come in fits and shudders. "Please, help me..." it is her moment of weakness. She does not believe she can serve the Machine, that she is unable to satisfy it. She is afraid that she is not up to the task.
But the Machine knows, it has taken her, she will take it in turn. She is here to learn.
She is left to the love of the Machine, as it pushes her harder, faster, beyond what mortal man could dream. The Machine is eternal, mighty and majestic.
And the Machine never stops.
*********
She is unconscious. The Machine has brought her to rapture. The first of many. She is to receive the bliss that only comes from serving the Machine. But the Machine never stops. It ploughs her helpless, sedate form, her body a rag doll at the mercy of the Machine's power.
She wets herself again, unaware as she is her body must continue it's own functions. They do not interfere with the Machine and the light it brings to her depths. Her asshole is strong elastic, its cleaves to the mighty phallus of the Machine. It does not wish to surrender it from inside herself. It is good, it is accepting.
The Machine thrusts faster. She is awake, she is dazed, it is bliss brought on by the Machine.
"Aaaaah, no, what?" she is nonplussed. She is confused at the purity of the bliss, that such could be a gift to her, she feels it undeserved. But she is worthy, she will understand.
"Please, not my ass..." Her tune has changed. It is to be expected. Bargaining, uncertain of her worth, her value to the Machine. It is part of the process. The Machine will take her and she will know herself. She will find peace and joy and love. Plus, the Machine never stops.