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MtK update
🕑 Added 2020-07-26 23:00:00 +0000 UTC
Harley quaked as she felt Bruce’s erection swell inside her, filling with thick cum to surge into her. She moaned raggedly, digging her fingers into the carpet, pushing her tightening asshole back to Bruce’s loins. No matter how hard he fucked her, she was determined not to miss any of it by being knocked off-balance.
“Fill my ass with your cum!” Harley croaked, her voice nearly gone from shouting. She twisted her hips as an orgasm crashed into her like a freight train. “Oh! Ohhh! It’s killing me! I’m coming so much! Fuck! God! Yes! Too much!”
Bruce’s cum burst into Harley’s sucking asshole like a geyser, his hardness gripped by her anus so tightly that he could barely move it, just holding it inside her as he came. But as his cock throbbed and pumped, he forced it deeper, into the furthest depths of Harley’s bowels, punching it into her no matter how he had to struggle. There, in the deepest part of her ass, he made sure that every inch of her received his cum.
“I’m doing it! I’m coming again! I just keep coming!” Harley wailed, banging her fists on the ground in seeming frustration at the pleasure she was forced to endure. Bruce fancifully imagined that she was expressing the aggravation she felt at her tight asshole being useless to keep his cock out even a single inch, using her muscles on the floor instead of his prick. “Keep shoving your cock inside me! Ggh! You’re making my little clitty come with your thumbs! Nnnn! My pussy is melting because of you, shit, shit! Give me more of your cock! Harder! Fuck my ass apart with your big dick! Bruuce!”
She looked up in a delirium of pleasure and saw herself on the television. It was now showing a live feed of the room they were in. Harley could see exactly what a whore she looked like. She saw herself come again.
When Bruce’s cock finally stopping pumping his thick seed into Harley’s rectum, he ground to a halt. Harley collapsed beneath him, slumped down face-first on the carpet, her ass raised up in the air with his prick still trembling faintly inside it.
Harley panted loudly, her mouth open. She barely managed to speak: “I’m your whore, Brucie. I came for you. I can’t stop myself from coming for you.”
“You’re Batman’s whore.”
Harley nodded her head with the last of her energy. Her mind was in a daze. “Batman’s… I’m Batman’s… Batman’s Harley… rev up your Harley…”
She turned over onto her back, Bruce’s prick pulling out of her. She stared at it dangling from his fly. Harley wanted it again, she wanted to be warmed as only a load of hot cum inside her could do. But from the look on his face she could tell that Bruce was done with her for now. She hadn’t earned being spoiled with more of his cock.
“One last thing,” Bruce said, reaching into his utility belt. Harley could’ve giggled—he took out a buttplug. She couldn’t believe that not only had Batman fucked her, but he’d done it with a buttplug in his Batbelt. It was almost funny.
Bruce clicked a button on the buttplug. It started to play audio. Harley had to strain to hear it, though. “A continuous loop of our time together. If you listen closely, you can hear some choice quotes. Just in case you forget who you belong to again.”
He pushed it into Harley’s asshole, and she’d been left so splayed by the sodomy that her anus barely offered any resistance. Then the sound was inside her, steadily thrumming through her aching flesh, almost like an aural balm. And if she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to empty…
“Please, Batman. Please make me come, make me your bitch! I want to be Batman’s bitch!” “It’s yours, it’s yours, oh Batman, eat this cunt, it belongs to you!” “Open your cunt for me. Show me what’s mine.” “I want Batman to eat my cunt! My wet little cunt! Please!” “Ohh, Batman, that’s so good!”
Bruce’s real voice brought her back to the world. “Okay, Harley. I got what I wanted. Now strip.”
Harley obediently took her costume back off. It made her feel even more used, having Mistah J’s beautiful costume for her reduced to another sex toy Bruce had used on her, but she didn’t care. She’d gotten off on it too. She didn’t know if anything mattered more than that when she kept doing whatever it took to come. And only Bruce could make her come like that.
She went with Bruce in a daze. Her body was sore all over. Her lips throbbed and her ass rippled with pain from its hard fucking. Jagged pleasure ripped through her with each step she took, her bowels moving around the buttplug that’d been inserted into her. She didn’t know what would happen next, or if she would like it, but she was sure it would make her come.
The dull roar in her ears was gone, replaced by the sound of the buttplug quivering through her body.
“I’m almost there, Batman! I’m about to come for you! Ohhh God! I’m gonna come! Suck my pussy, eat my pussy! Make me come, Batman! Ohhh, please, make me come for Batman!” “Batman’s cock… I love Batman’s cock…”
***
The first thing Dick noticed about Kara was that she had on a new costume. It was all in black, with silver piping formed the S-shield and otherwise accentuating the shapeliness of the body underneath. It was also far less modest than the costume he was used to. The top wasn’t just belly-baring, but shortened to just under her breasts, while the skirt was a micro, showing off silvery, PVC panties with every gust of wind.
She ran up to him, throwing her arms around her neck to hug him, pressing her groin against his leg and quickly relaxing the embrace to draw her shoulders back. Giving him a look down the top of her top. It was lower cut than the old one too, a scoop neck that ran across her cleavage before becoming the S-shield. The top two points of the upside-down triangle were pretty much over her nipples. The lowermost point of the shield actually dangle below the hemline of the rest of the top, like a loincloth, hanging down her sternum.
Kara smiled warmly at him, shifting her weight—he could’ve sworn she was rubbing her sex against his thigh.
“Hi, stranger!” she bubbled happily. “Done taking care of Kory?”
“Uh—taking care?”
“You know!” Kara wagged her eyebrows. “Giving her dick.”
Dick gasped in surprise. He hadn’t heard many women talk like that in the hero game, and definitely not Kara. He looked down at the lovely young woman, seeing the zealous anticipation in her eyes. He swallowed with difficulty, a lump growing in his throat.
“Kara, you shouldn’t talk that way,” he said.
“Why? It’s a safe assumption. Aren’t you a detective? Well, if I were married to Kory, I’d certainly have sex with her first thing in the morning. And I were married to you, I’d definitely have sex first thing in the morning. So it’s only logical to assume the two of you fucked. Now, are you done or not? Because much as I’d like to wait for you two to have your fun, we really need to get going.”
There had been a lot of talk about Kara. As well-regarded as he was around the superhero community, Dick had heard a lot about it. Superheroes loved to share gossip during long patrols and stake-outs and training sessions. They talked even more while sharing drinks or hooking up after the end of a long day.
He hadn’t heard anything about Kara being as loose as her current attitude would seem to imply. Dick guessed it had to be some culture clash. Kara might’ve acted a little strange by Earth standards, but she wasn’t the slut that a human acting the way she was would’ve proved to be. No matter how she rubbed up against him with her beautiful little body, giving off every indication of there being an open invitation between them. It all had to be some big misunderstanding.
***
“Where have you been?” Vicki asked when Bruce led Harley into the room. She wore only a scant minidress, while Roxy Rocket and Page Monroe wore Agent Provocateur lingerie. Straps of fabric crisscrossing their breasts, ribboning over their stomachs, girding their crotches, and finally becoming the mesh of fishnet stockings, all while showing as much of their lascivious bodies as possible.
“Harley and I had a little talk,” Bruce said, spinning her towards the table. He had, naturally, taken off the Batsuit and replaced it with a simple set of black trunks, as a man might wear to exercise in. “She’s going to be more cooperative now. Page, why don’t you clean her ass? I got it a little dirty after her shower, so she could use a touch-up.”
Page approached Harley, grinning a little proudly at Bruce’s actions. “You just have to stake a claim on every ass you come across, don’t you?”
“If you want to be disobedient,” Bruce said, “I can work your ass over too.”
“Would you, Bruce?” The former Calendar Girl made a beeline for her master, taking him in his arms, sliding her stockinged leg against his. Pressing her gartered thigh against his groin. “Would you punish me for all the bad things I did because I didn’t feel beautiful? Whip me, sodomize me, yes, please, I deserve it...” She caressed his prick, her hands stroking it to the hardness of a marble pillar.
“Harley, get on the table,” Bruce said to Harley. “Page will be obeying me.”
But Harley froze there, staring at how Page slid her leg over Bruce’s muscular thigh and rubbed his rock-hard erection.
Page whirled to return Harley’s stare. “What—do you think we’re the same? I know my place, Quinn. And I was never some ‘hench-wench’ causing mischief like some bratty child. I have Bruce’s respect. I do to him what a silly little girl like you has to be forced to accept.”
Harley felt like screaming as she watched Page come down onto her knees, fish Bruce’s cock out of his trunks, slide her softly pouting lips over his erection. Page grinned at Harley right up until his cock was in her mouth. Her eyes glowed with the lust she felt, the gratification of having Bruce between her lips. She gulped him down, filling her mouth, then eased her lips back up his shaft until she was doing no more than licking Bruce’s engorged knob.
“This should come easier to you than me,” Page said. “You were just a lackey. I was a criminal mastermind. I gave orders, you took them. But perhaps it takes smarts only I have to see the satisfaction that comes from submitting—if you want to call it that.”
“Or maybe you’re just a slut!” Harley squeaked out.
Page smiled at the suggestion, taking her lips entirely off Bruce’s cockhead to form the expression. “We’re all sluts here, Harley. How can you not be a slut for this perfect cock?” She kissed it lovingly. “Don’t worry. I won’t finish him. I’ll leave it plenty hard for him to use on you, since I can see you haven’t had your fill yet. But maybe later, you can be the one licking his cum out of me. You might like that—it would be easier on your constitution than taking his seed any of the old-fashioned ways.”
Harley gasped, her mind spinning with horror at the thought, the growing arousal associated with the notion. Already she could see herself doing it.
“Up on the table,” Bruce said, his sudden seriousness telling her he would not be repeating himself much more. “Lean over it. You haven’t earned being as willful as Page has.”
In a fit of deliriousness, Harley scrambled for the door. It was Vicki who stopped her, lashing her back with a cat o’ nine tails. The pain made Harley lose all control over her limbs. She dropped to the floor, moaning at how her reawakened skin throbbed with the fresh sensation. It wouldn’t take much to make her actually enjoy pain like that.
“Get up,” Vicki told her, the cat dangling from her hand.
Bruce crossed his arms as he watched, as though Page were not still toying with his erect manhood. “You remember Vicki. In fact, I’m sure most of the women here do. She’s been taken hostage a number of times, in many cases by the people here. It’s left her with a bit of a case of nerves around this little clan of mine, which we’re working on rectifying. For instance, role reversal. Instead of her being the one at your mercy, you’ll be at hers. Finally, Harley, you have a chance to help a patient through some therapy.”
Harley stood up to face Vicki, her legs trembling, her body red with passion. “Yeah, I remember holding you prisoner for Mistah J. I thought you were cute then—if I’d known what a slut you were, I would’ve given you a ride!”
Vicki slapped her across the face. Harley moved to retaliate, but Roxy grabbed her wrist and twisted her down onto her knees.
“Shit, you’ve got some real spitfire attitude!” Roxy proclaimed. “If you were a rocket, I know I’d enjoy riding you! Have to give you a tune-up if I wanted to actually get anywhere, though…”
Bruce held Page’s head to his crotch as she sucked it gently, making it clear that whether she had wanted to or not, he had now decided she was blowing him and the decision was final. “You’ll have your turn with her. For now, I said she was going onto the table. She’s going on the table.”
“And she’s wearing clamps!” Vicki snapped. “She’s my hostage now, right? She used to love tying me up and gagging me and… looking at me. Well, now you’ve got me, Harley! Hope your eyes weren’t bigger than your pussy!”
“Nothing’s bigger than my pussy!” Harley retorted.
Bruce pushed Page away—she landed on her back with amusement written on her gorgeous face. From the smug look that twisted her lips, it was clear she considered Bruce’s little rejection a setback, but by no means an insurmountable one.
“Go get the clamps,” Bruce told her, before walking toward Harley. “Vicki said that’s what she wants for our hostage, so that’s what we’re going to do.”
Harley struggled against how Roxy held her down, right up until Bruce was there. Roxy lifted her up in a hammerlock, holding her in front of Bruce for his inspection. He reached out and groped her breasts, stroking their pertness, pinching the hard nipples. Under his touch, they became even stiffer than before, more sensitive.
“Ever had clamps on?” Bruce asked her, absorbing Harley’s little moans and quivers as her excitement mounted. “You won’t like it, but you’ll love it. Here—let’s give you a taste of dessert so you remember to be good.”
Somehow, he took Harley from Roxy’s arms and pushed her down to her knees, then drove his cock into her mouth, all in one deft movement. Harley gagged and sucked, automatically subservient to the huge mass of cock filling her mouth, but Bruce didn’t give her long to grow used to being fucked in the face.
He pulled her head back by the hair and there was Vicki looming over her, two metal clamps in her hands. Harley’s eyes grew three sizes. The little jaws, the tightening screws—there was even a chain between them, and Harley could just imagine the ecstatic agony that pulling on that chain would produce once the clamps were biting into her nipples.
“Hey! Hey! I never put nipple clamps on you, Vale, never!” Harley protested.
“That was me,” Page said. “I wanted to make a point about how she never wore a bra on camera—every byline, she had a picture of herself with her headlights on. Sorry.”
“See? Put the clamps on her, not me!” Harley cried.
“No, you locked me in one of your hyenas’ cages, without cleaning it out! Do you remember how it smelled?”
Harley’s face fell. “Oh. Right. I guess I’ll take the clamps.”
“See?” Bruce petted Harley’s hair. “We’re working through our issues already.”
She could still hear the buttplug’s tinny audio traveling up her body to her inner ear: “Ohh, Batman, that’s so good!” “Please, Batman. Please make me come, make me your bitch! I want to be Batman’s bitch!”
Bruce grabbed her elbows and yanked them behind her back. Harley struggled, but she knew it was pointless. She couldn’t do anything that Bruce didn’t want her to do.
“This is going to hurt,” he whispered in her ear. “But you’ll like it. I won’t let Vicki do any permanent harm, but she is going to punish you. But next time, it will be Selina or Ivy’s turn. Think about how embarrassed they would be if you took your punishment better than they did.”
A diabolical smile spread over Harley’s face. She could take pain better than those two; she’d dated the Joker, after all. Selina was a dom, she didn’t know anything about being dominated, and with Ivy’s pheromones, she was used to being pampered, not played with. Boy, the look on their faces if Bruce told them they were being little bitches compared to his wonderful Harley…
Still, Harley couldn’t help but cringe as Vicki opened up one of the small metal clamps and held it around her right nipple. “Heh-heh… I don’t suppose I could give you a sincere apology? To err is human, y’know. To forgive is, uh, uh… I’ll be good!”
Vicki smiled at her. “I know you will, bitch.”
Comments
Shendude
Oooh, this is promising in multiple different ways.
