So many heroines, so little time…
So why not throw them all into one big mixer and see what happens!
The year is 1984, and place is Earth 1 and the story is Superman has gone mad. Already most of the heroines of Earth 1 and beyond have fallen before him. And Gotham City is being turned into the Penguin’s personal vice den.
Marcus Lycus
February 2013
Issue 10 – Batboys and Batgirls
In a shining fortress thousands of miles to the north, the most powerful man on Earth was bored.
He watched Wonder Girl and Starfire make out in the middle of his throne room. The two enslaved brainwashed princesses competed to make each other cum, hoping the winner would get the favor of their master, Superman. But the intertwining of their golden and pale limbs did nothing for him.
In the corner stood Powerless Woman, locked into an indestructible frame of Kryptonian steel. On Earth 2 she was Power Girl, Superman’s heir and the most powerful woman in the world. Until Superman captured her. Unable to move a muscle or see a thing she could only hear the moans of other heroines and wonder what was next. But her helplessness just made him yawn.
At Superman’s feet sat Wonder Woman, her golden lasso wrapped around her body, its end in Superman’s hand. Her once-proud face was turned downwards in shame. Her incredible mind kept replaying the last few weeks, trying to find her mistake, trying to find the missed opportunity where she could have prevented this. She still hadn’t found it. She wiggled her shoulders and moved her heavy breasts. Superman’s simple order ‘lactate’ made her feel like a Wonder Cow, producing milk for one of his prisoners.
Wonder Woman’s breasts were bare, one was being sucked by what seemed at first glance to be a baby, but on closer examination was actually a statuesque blonde. The blonde’s limbs were bound in tight flesh-covered sheaths, her loins in a diaper and her fantastic breasts swung free. She sucked enthusiastically on Wonder Woman’s lactating breast filling it with nourishing milk. Since her capture it was her only nourishment. Back on Earth 2 she was Wonder Woman’s daughter, the fantastic Fury, but since her capture she’d been reduced to the role of a baby, the pathetic Passive. But the twisted image of a grown daughter sucking at the ample teat of her mother’s younger counterpart didn’t give Superman the slightest thrill.
In the other corner two slim blondes played patty-cake and giggled. One was covered by a thin black membrane trimmed with rainbows. It covered her like bodypaint, making her erect nipples visible to anyone looking closely. Just a few weeks ago she’d been known as Halo, one of the most powerful members of Batman’s Outsider team. Then Superman captured the amnesic teen and decimated her intelligence.
The case of the girl opposite her was even sadder. Her name was Linda Danvers, or Kara Zor-El but everyone knew her as Supergirl. She was Superman’s cousin, one of the most powerful women on Earth. She’d been Superman’s first victim. Kryptonite earrings and a necklace kept her almost powerless and weeks of exposure left her mind in a green haze. These days patty-cake was about the most challenging thing she could do. She giggled and clapped hands again with Halo.
Two of the most powerful women on Earth reduced to childish simpletons by the Man of Steel, they were living testimonies to his power.
And yet… Superman was bored.
Soon he would find something to entertain himself.
And someone would suffer.
The Mercedes pulled up outside the Iceberg Lounge. A door girl dressed a red tunic and fishnets opened the door and a young man bounced out. At first glance he looked too young to even drive a car but he walked with the confidence and power of a man many years older.
“Jason, how you been!”
“Jason, looking sharp!”
“Jason, come right in, your usual table is waiting.”
Jason Todd, Gotham’s new Batman, took a seat and a Japanese girl in a tiny red kimono slinked up next to him and started kissing his neck. He watched the floorshow, Arisia and Katma were on tonight doing their gold and red dance ending with the two aliens scissoring on stage.
Same old, same old.
He knew he should be out looking for Bat Babs. She’d disappeared on patrol a week ago and there was no sign of her. Probably gave up, deserted him.
The Japanese girl’s hands were under the table now giving him a hand job. She looked kind of familiar but he couldn’t place her. Maybe he’d seen her dance before.
Now the alien girls were gone and a blonde was dancing. She came out in a leather corset and fishnets but quickly lost them. She had an incredible body, and could do things with it that would make an Olympic gymnast blush in envy.
Jason sighed and came in the Japanese girl’s hands. She neatly wiped her hands on a napkin and excused herself.
Her place was taken by a much less attractive figure, a short, fat man with a monocle perched on his beak-like nose. “Waaagh, having a good time Jason?”
“Hey Mr. P, how’s it going?”
“Fine my son, just fine. Especially since I solved my little… waaagh flying rodent problem.”
“Which reminds me…”
The Penguin clapped his flipper-like hands and a gorgeous girl wearing a tuxedo on the top and fishnets on the bottom. She handed Jason a heavy briefcase. He peaked inside and smiled at the stacks of bills.
“Nice…”
“I put in a bit extra this week, just my way of saying thanks for your… waaagh… discretion.”
When Betty Kane stepped off the train, the first thing that hit her was the stink. Gotham Central smelled like a cesspool and half the people looked homeless bums. She shook her mane of blond hair, as if she could brush away the sewer-like stench of Gotham.
It had been years since she was in Gotham, running around the rooftops with her aunt Kathy. They were good times, fun times, the days of Batwoman and Bat-Girl (remember the hyphen! She thought to herself).
Yeah she’d heard all about the redhead who stole her name but she didn’t care. She’d only played the role hoping to land Robin just like Aunt Kathy played Batwoman hoping to land the big bat himself. But if Batman was interested he sure never showed it. Secretly Betty suspected he was more into bad girls, or maybe even teen boys in short shorts.
So after a bit they hung up their costumes and returned to their normal lives. As far was Betty had been concerned the redhead could have the name. And if people forgot her, if they all figured the redheaded Batgirl was the first and only, oh well, that was life.
But now… heroes had been disappearing for months, first Superman and Wonder Woman, then the rest of the Justice League, the Teen Titans, the Outsiders… The list went on.
Betty checked the papers every day for news of Batman and Batgirl. Batman seemed to disappear for a while but then resurfaced along with Batgirl fighting crime and taking out some assassin named Wrath. For a while Betty breathed a sigh of relief and put thoughts of the redheaded Batgirl out of her mind. But now that Batgirl too had disappeared like so many others. According to the papers no one had seen her in days or weeks.
And Betty couldn’t stand aside any longer.
She’d kept the costume of course. It was pretty simple one, just a red mini dress trimmed with a green cape, a green mask and red pixie boots copied from Robin. And after years on the pro tennis circuit her body was even more toned and tough than it was when she was a wannabe heroine.
It was only four blocks to her hotel, but she took a cab anyway. From what she saw Gotham was in just as bad shape as the train station. The giant advertising props that gave Gotham so much character in the good old days were mostly gone, the ones that were left were vandalized and covered with graffiti. In their place were piles of trash, porno theaters and abandoned buildings. It was like the city had gone to hell in just a few years.
So she was relieved to get into the safety of the Gotham Ritz where the room was clean and air conditioned. She’d specifically asked for one with a balcony overlooking the neighboring apartment house. A quick leap would put her on the rooftop. She checked the time. Sundown was just starting.
The old woman walked into the flop house. She shuffled along with her shawl pulled close. She nodded to the man at the desk.
“Wysoce rozwinięty taniec wymaga dużej sprawności fizycznej oraz siły w tym umiejętności typowych dla gimnastyki.” He said.
“Uh thank you.” She said.
It had been two weeks since Superman captured her and rewired her brain so that she could only speak Kryptonian. Despite her best efforts she still could not relearn English, everything people said to her sounded like gibberish. She’d been searching the Gotham Library for a Kryptonian dictionary, but so far no luck. Unable to talk to anyone or read anything her only hope was to flip through every book in the reference section hoping she found what she needed. And of course it was possible there wasn’t a Kryptonian dictionary there at all. Gotham was always Batman’s town. She might have to make her way to Metropolis.
But besides the language barrier she had another minor problem… She was the most wanted woman alive. Superman had framed her for the murders of a dozen superheroes and every cop in the world was looking for her.
So far her disguise had served her well but she lived in fear of the day she would be found. It was simple really, the best disguises were. Just an old dress snatched from a clothes line, a grey wig from a costume shop she broke into and then a stooped posture, a slow limping walk and a squint. To anyone on the street she was just some old European immigrant down on her luck. She was the most wanted woman in the world and so far no one had given her a second look.
But she knew this was only a beginning. She needed to take back the offensive, she needed to expose Superman, united the remaining heroes, and save her friends Fury and Power Girl.
She had no idea how she would do that.
She shuffled up to her door past the discarded food wrappers and used condoms. She spotted a nervous-looking young man slipping rolls of bills through an armored door in exchange for a plastic bag of white powder. At least if the cops ever came here, she mused, they’d have a lot to keep them busy before they ever checked out the old woman on the fourth floor.
She fumbled for her key and unlocked the door. She could immediately tell someone had been inside but it didn’t matter. Everything that mattered to her was in her bag. She’d burned her costume two weeks ago keeping only her crossbow and a few items from her utility belt in the battered cloth bag on her shoulder.
“You’re boring me.” A voice said from the shadows.
She froze. She understood it! So unless her burglar had taken evening classes in Kryptonian it had to be…
“Superman?”
“The one and only. You’re not going to do anything dumb like go for your crossbow or jump out the window are you?”
Huntress had in fact had dropped to a fighting stance and was preparing to do either. She forced herself to relax, the only weapon that might help her now was her mind.
“No, of course not. Won’t you sit down? Would you like some tea?”
“I’m not here for tea, Prey. I’m here because you’re boring me. I didn’t bring you from Earth 2 so I could watch you dress like a grandma and try to find a Kryptonian-English dictionary – don’t bother by the way, the Gotham Libraries can barely afford English dictionaries much less obscure books about dead worlds – I brought you here because I wanted a show. I wanted to see the most dangerous woman alive take on the cops, the heroes, the underworld and the villains.”
“Sorry if I’ve not lived up to your expectations.”
“Well I guess you just need the right incentive. You remember Barbara Gordon of course?”
“Batgirl? My counterpart?”
“The same. She’s a prisoner now – no not my prisoner, man of steel, woman of Kleenex you know – a villain has her. I won’t tell you which one but suffice to say she’s here in Gotham.”
“What happens if I save her?”
“You mean will I return you to your world, let your friends go, surrender to the cops? Oh grow up. But you’ll have saved a very brave girl from life as a brainwashed sex slave and surely that’s worth it?”
“But I can’t even speak-“
“Do you whine this much on Earth 2? Is that how you got onto the Justice Society? Boo-hoo-hoo it’s not fair! You have to let me in! My daddy is Batman!”
Huntress just fumed.
“I’ll just let you get to it. Who knows how much time she had before the drugs mess her up too much to save? So try and hurry or you’ll be up in arms if you’re too late.”
Huntress nodded.
“You’ll need these.” Superman tossed her a package with her costume inside. It was a perfect copy, created by the machines in his Fortress.
By the time she looked up Superman was gone.
Her hands were trembling as she opened the package. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it. She yanked off the wig and shook out her hair. She unbuttoned the dress and let it fall to the floor. She pulled on the skintight outfit, reveling in its snug fit. She clicked closed her utility belt and clipped on her cape. She looked at herself in the cracked mirror.
Superman was right, Helena Wayne wasn’t meant to hide in a Gotham flophouse. For better or for worse, this was her destiny. She was the Huntress – heir to Batman and Catwoman, the most dangerous woman alive.
Now she just had to find one girl in a city of eight million when she couldn’t speak a word to anyone.
She looked out at the city lights, wondering where she could even start. Perhaps she could track down Commissioner Gordon – he was still commissioner here she recalled – and draw him some pictures?
There had to be a better way.
She noticed a building silhouetted against the moon.
What was it Superman said? Something about up in arms?
“You can pick me in about three… no make it four hours.” The man in the three-piece suit told his driver.
“Yes sir Congressman Madder.”
He crossed the lobby of the Gotham Arms like a king entering his castle. He lived in Washington these days but the Arms was his home the few tines he had to return to Gotham. He avoided actually traveling to his district as much as he could. The city was such a shithole.
But today he had a special appointment. Very special.
He took the elevator to the top floor, walked past his usual suite and knocked the door to the Presidential Suite (not that any President had bothered visiting Gotham since the advent of color TV but they still kept the name).
A gorgeous redhead in a green nightgown opened the door and greeted him with a smile.
He frowned.
He hated redheads. Ever since the day one of them stole him seat in Congress.
“Doctor Isley?” He asked. He hadn’t considered that the ‘doctor’ in his invitation could mean a woman. These were crazy times.
“One and the same, but of course I’m not the one you want to see am I?”
“No, you’re not. Now can I come in or did I waste my time flying back to this cesspool of a city?”
“Oh no, you didn’t waste your time at all. She’s waiting for you. Eager and willing.”
Barbara Gordon, formerly Congresswoman Gordon, more recently Batgirl, sat on the edge of the bed trying to remember why she was here.
She was dressed in sheer black bra and panties and black fishnet stockings connected by thin garters to a belt. If you looked closely the bra, panties and even the stockings all had a small bat pattern throughout, it was Ivy’s little tribute to Barbara’s former identity. On her feet she wore a pair of bright yellow high heeled boots that looked like her old ones but whose 6” heels made it hard to walk and impossible to run. And of course she wore her cape and cowl.
She sat on the edge of the bed with her hands neatly folded in her lap.
Pam told her to wait. So she waited.
And trembled.
The door opened and a man entered. He was a big man with a full belly from years of rich eating and a mane of grey hair styled back. His suit cost more than most people’s cars and his watch could buy a one-bedroom condo in the nice part of town.
She recognized him, Congressman Raymond T Madder, the man she’d replaced in Congress and who, in turn, replaced her when playing Batgirl hobbled her reelection campaign. He had his fingers in every crooked scheme in Gotham, from the school construction kickbacks, to highway projects that never seemed to get built, he always got his share. She’d busted up more than one of his rackets both as Congresswoman Gordon and as Batgirl. She doubted there was a man alive who hated her as much as him.
She sat calmly, waiting to see what he wanted.
“And that’s really her? Gordon?”
“You know it is.” Isley replied.
“Huh, never knew she had such a nice rack. What’s with the get-up?”
Batgirl wanted to answer but couldn’t quite remember why she was dressed like this. She was so confused these days.
“Oh you don’t know do you? Barbara, introduce yourself to the nice Congressman will you?”
“Um… Hello.” She said trying to remember why she was meeting Congressman Madder and why she was dressed like this. “I’m Barbara Gordon.”
“I know. So what’s with the mask?”
“Huh? Oh uh, well that’s because I’m also Batgirl. Opps!” Her face became a mask of horror! She didn’t mean to betray her secret identity like that!
Madder looked at her, he looked at Pam. He smiled. He laughed.
“As promised Congressman Madder, Congresswoman Gordon, drugged, dazed and gift-wrapped for your enjoyment.”
“Is she serious? Gordon is Batgirl?”
“She is. Or she was at least. Now she’s just another brain-dead slut her for you to enjoy.”
His eyes played over lips, her breasts and her hips, sitting there so meekly, so exposed. He was almost drooling.
“What’s the price?”
“Oh I’m sure we can come to an arrangement later. For now Congressman, enjoy yourself. Just try to not to leave any permanent marks.”
Poison Ivy slipped out and closed the door leaving the Congressman and his foe alone together.
He took off his belt.
“So Gordon, you’re the one who exposed the whole Arab bribe thing huh?”
“Yes.”
“I almost went to jail!”
“I’m sorry.” She said meekly.
“What was that? Say that again!” Madder demanded.
“I… I’m sorry, I’m sorry I took your seat, I’m sorry I sent your friends to jail, I didn’t mean it, I’m so sorry.”
He looked at her for a hint of mockery or insincerity but found only fear in her eyes. The mighty Barbara Gordon, the brave Batgirl, was nothing but a trembling frail girl completely in his power. He grabbed the back of her neck and threw her on her stomach.
He raised his belt and brought it down on her back with a sharp crack!
“Not so high and mighty now are you?”
CRACK!
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I just want to go home!”
CRACK!
“Ivy help me!”
He hit her again and watched her gorgeous body writhe in pain. He’d made dozens of Washington escorts and even a few idealistic young interns dance this dance but never a Congresswoman. Or a heroine.
After a few blows his hard-on could no longer be ignored
He grabbed a fistful of her bikini-panties and tore them off with one yank. He looked down at that firm round ass and unbuttoned his silk trousers. He landed a few blows on her ass to give it some character and listened to the girl’s screams.
“Pry them apart.”
“What? I don’t understand-AH!”
Congressman Madder landed another blow on that sweet ass and repeated himself. “Pry them apart, your ass cheeks, pry them apart!”
The sobbing girl did as he demanded putting her hands on each round cheek (both now decorated with red welts) until he could see both the top of her slit and the little rosebud of her hole. He licked one finger and jammed it in.
The girl cried out and squirmed as her tight butt hole was penetrated. Congressman Madder smiled like a snake and climbed on top of her. “This is gonna be good.” He muttered in her ear.
But his lustful thoughts were interrupted as a crossbow bolt flew across the room and embedded in the headrest. He spun and fell and found himself naked and facing…
“Batman?”
Bat-Girl, the other Bat-Girl, stood on the balcony railing and stared. Sundown was hours ago and she was still standing there, right on precipice.
She wore her red minidress, with a green cape, a green mask and red pixie boots. It wasn’t the most practical costume for creeping around a night but it neatly echoed Robin’s, and when she made it that was the only point. Of course she’d filled out a bit since she last wore the costume. The skirt that once came down to her knees now reached just an inch or two below her green panties. And the dress was now a bit tighter than she would have liked. She took a deep breath and looked again. All she had to do was jump. She’d done it a thousand times before. So she was a little out of practice. So it had been a few years. It was like riding a bike wasn’t it?
Another thirty minutes went by. She didn’t move.
Maybe she’d be better off trying this tomorrow she thought. Take the night off. Get some rest.
Betty Kane, Bat-Girl, nodded to herself, acknowledging her own wisdom and climbed off off.
There was a scream from a nearby alleyway. A woman’s scream.
Before she realized it, Bat-Girl had jumped over the railing and was running across a rooftop.
“Ples ob drogu je vrsta umetniškega pleas.” The intruder said.
“Huh?” Congressman Madder replied. Now that he’d had a second he realized it wasn’t Batman. Not unless Batman was suddenly into thigh-high boots and purple swimwear. And had a sex change.
In fact he did recognize her from an Interpol briefing, she was that super terrorist, the one who blew up the Titans Tower. And now she here! He was suddenly a lot more scared.
“Pri katerem plesalka ali plesalec s pomočjo vertikalnega droga izvaja različne plesne.”
She repeated frustrated. She gestured to the side with her crossbow and Madder finally got the idea, he crab-walked away from the bed, staring uncomfortably at where the crossbow was pointed.
The Huntress was relieved, she’d made it on time. Once she thought about Superman’s last teasing words ‘up in arms’ she realized they were a clue, one he no doubt hoped she would miss adding to her misery later when she realized the truth. But the Dark Knight’s Daughter had honed her skills against the likes of the Puzzler and Egghead and realized up in arms was a reference to the penthouse of the Gotham Arms! Fortunately the hotel here was located in the same place in Earth 1’s Gotham as it was on Earth 2. She even recognized the man she was threatening. He was 20 years younger than on her Earth, but apparently Governor Madder was a creep on any world.
Barbara Gordon sat up and looked confused at the scene.
“Gimnastične in estetske prvine. Od plesalca zahteva dobro koordinacijo.” She said comfortingly. She knew Gordon wouldn’t understand but hoped at least the tone of voice would help sooth her.
“Gibčnost in veliko fizične moči. Moderna oblika plesa ob drogu se je mednarodno razširila v devedesetih letih.” Gordon replied.
“What? You speak Kryptonian?” The Huntress said, happy to be understood for the first time since her ordeal began.
“Yes, me talk, talk of Superperson place talk. Me look book of Superperson place words. Me remember. Me head good.”
Like Helena Wayne, Barbara Gordon was blessed with a photographic memory. She had never made a serious study of Kryptonian, but the few vocabulary words she’d glimpsed once years ago were enough for basic communication.
“That, that’s wonderful! Quickly get dressed, we have to get out of here!” But Huntress’ words were cut off when vines from the potted plants in the room grew to wrap around her ankles and wrists. The bedroom door opened and a woman slinked in smiling a crooked smile. “Well, well what do we have here… The most wanted woman in the world, helpless in my bedroom.” Poison Ivy ran her fingers through Barbara Gordon’s red hair and chuckled. “I must say Batgirl you do attract the most wonderful prey to my little fly trap.”
Huntress struggled in the vines’ thorny grip as Ivy approached. The sexy redhead stopped to apply more lipstick. “Oh do stop struggling, I’m sure you’ll feel different after a nice deep ki-“
Poison Ivy didn’t get to finish the thought because Huntress head-butted her into unconsciousness. “Nice try but your counterpart tried the same trick on my dad back in ’54” she said, knowing no one would understand her. “OK Barbara, you are officially rescued, let’s get out of here.”
She looked back at the unconscious Ivy and simpering Madder and smiled.
“As soon as I take care of one thing.”
Jason Todd kneeled in the shadows watching and waiting. The girl was a real looker all right, a bit short but with a gorgeous heart-shaped face and shoulder-length sandy brown hair. She was wearing a pink leotard and white tights, probably coming from a late class at the dance school a few blocks down. She was in good shape too. She’d given the Grim Reapers a good chase through the alleys. But now she was cornered, surrounded, at a dead end and there was no way she could fight off four guys with knives no matter how good a shape she was in. He picked his spot to land. He figured he’d be nice and showy when he took down the guys, make the dancer nice and impressed so she’d reward him with some rescue sex.
And if she didn’t… well the way he figured it one guy was better than four right? She was still getting ahead on the deal.
But while he was thinking his deep thoughts another caped figure entered the scene. A blonde in a green cape and red mini-dress landed in the alley and tried to take command.
“L-let her go?” It sounded like a question from her trembling lips. The Grim Reapers weren’t too impressed either. They chuckled and turned to face her.
“What’s your story babe? Who are you anyway? Robin-Girl? Batgirl Jr.?”
“T-the n-name’s Buh-BAM!”
Jason shook his head, this blonde was so dumb she’d let one of the Reapers get behind her and break a bottle over her head. Now he’d grabbed her arms while the one who spoke landed blows on her stomach. The other two had grabbed the dancer and were pushing her down into the trash too. It was time to more. A Batman’s work is never done.
He let loose a growl and landed among them. A quick kick took care of the one hitting the would-be heroine, and two drug-tipped razor-sharp batarangs took down the two on the dancer. The one who’d been holding the blonde dropped her and backed away showing off his skills with a butterfly knife as he did so.
“Keep away man, I cut you, I mean UHHH.”
Jason smiled, while the punk was watching him the blonde managed to land a karate chop on his neck. At least she wasn’t totally useless. Then she ran up, threw her arms around him and kissed Jason passionately. “Oh Batman I knew you were OK, I knew- Wait, who are you?”
“I think that’s my line.” Jason answered. He looked her over from head to toe and nodded. He liked what he saw. “Who are you supposed to be? Robin’s sister?”
“I… I’m Bat-Girl.”
“Batgirl’s a redhead. Believe me, I know.”
“It’s Bat-dash-Girl, I worked with Batwoman, I uh, actually had the name first. Now who are you? You’re shorter than Batman, and you don’t kiss like Robin.”
“And how would you… Oh never mind. Suffice to say I’m Batman now. But why don’t we continue this discussion in the Batcave? I’m sure we’ll both learn something.”
Jason noticed the dancer had run while they were talking. Too bad. He’d already started planning a rescue sex 3-way but looking at the blonde’s legs he’d found something almost as interesting. They were lean and fit after years on the tennis pro circuit and seemed to stretch forever from her little red booties to the hem of her short red minidress.
She wasn’t Babs, but she’d do.
She followed him across the rooftops, doing a good job of keeping pace till he abruptly turned and dropped into a deserted lot, there, hidden under an overhang was the mighty Batmobile.
“Wow.” Betty said.
“You’ve never seen it?” Jason asked, suddenly suspicious.
“No, just the old one, y’know with the big bat face on the grill and the fin on the back. Honestly it was kind of corny, this one though, wow.”
The latest Batmobile was build around a Ferrari 288 GTO, but with added bullet proofing, communications gear and other extras. It was indigo blue with two custom headlights that created a bat-like shadow for it. Jason pushed a button on his wrist and the doors opened for them. He slid into the driver’s seat and this new ‘Bat-dash-girl’ slid in next to him. He hit a button and the restraining bars slid into place around her trapping her in her seat.
“Hey! What are you-oh…” He muffled her objections with a dose of sleeping gas and put his beast on the road.
A few blocks away the cops broke down the door to the Presidential Suite at the Gotham Arms. Inside they found Congressman Madder naked and tied to a bed with the notorious villain Poison Ivy just as naked and on top of him.
The photos were on the front page the next day.
“Please no fast talk please a lot words no know. This” she pointed to her head “ouch.”
Huntress sighed and started again. She and Batgirl were in an abandoned factory overlooking the Gotham River, the sun was just coming over the horizon. For the moment at least they were safe. But Batgirl’s rudimentary Kryptonian was being pushed to its limits as the Huntress tried to explain. Of course it didn’t help that Batgirl was recovering from Ivy’s drugs and brainwashing.
“Let me start again. Superman kidnapped me-“
“Kid-o-nap?”
“He uh, took, grabbed, snatched, uh… made me come here. He captured Powergirl and Fury, he’d already captured your Wonder Woman and Supergirl, we have to rally whatever heroes are left and go after him!”
Batgirl looked at her confused. “Cap-tu-red?”
“Look maybe we’d better get some sleep. Neither of us is at our best and there’ll be time tomorrow to talk. Sound good?”
“Yes sleep good, sleep fun, sleep!” Batgirl replied enthusiastically and rose to her feet. She let the hotel robe she was wearing drop, beneath it she wore only the fishnets and the torn remnants of the lingerie Poison Ivy put her in. She started unclipping Huntress’ cape.
“Uh, you really don’t have to…”
But Babs was already kissing her neck and peeling off her costume.
“I realize that Ivy’s drug are still in your system but you really shouldn’t… touch… me… like…oh Barbara…”
The two strong, capable, determined women, worn down by weeks of mistreatment sank into each others’ arms on a bed made from Huntress’ cape. Soon they would have lead the charge against the most powerful man in the world but for now all they needed or wanted was each other.
“Oh Batman… yes, yes, harder…oh Batman, finally… finally…” Bat-Girl moaned as she slipped in and out of consciousness. In her drugged mind all she knew was she was finally in Batman’s bed after all this waiting, and that’s all that mattered.
Jason Todd was more than happy to comply as he fucked the drugged girl in Bruce Wayne’s bed. He popped another of those blue pills he’d gotten from Wayne Tech’s pharmaceuticals division and turned her over. That tight ass was just waiting to be reamed.
And a thousand miles away, standing on the cliff before his fortress Superman smiled.
He wasn’t bored anymore.
Afterword
It took a while but I finally finished this story. Lately the Crimson Cobra’s adventures have been getting most of my attention.
I realize this story doesn’t change the status quo much, but it does start to build a resistance to Superman, even if it is only Batgirl and Huntress for now.
The next chapter will be a more ambitious and it’s one I’ve been looking forward to for a while. Be here for “Their Name is Legion…”
Marcus Lycus
February 2013