Who can read this? - Anyone of the legal age required in YOUR Country and/or State to view pornography. Anyone below that age is not allowed to read this story! They're not! I take no responsibility for anyone reading this, if you chose to break the law, don't come crying to me, it's not my problem.
Legal Stuff - Most of the characters in this story are the copyright of the powerful, heartless juggernaut that is Time Warner, the nice people who work for that powerful, heartless juggernaut have not given me permission to use these characters. I am receiving no payment for this story, no monetary profit will be made from the use of these characters and I intend no challenge to the copyright of Time Warner's characters.
You may not place this story on a website without my permission, and you can never, ever, EVER use this story for profit. So there.
How to get in touch - Send me your compliments, criticisms and/or requests to me at : dimitri_resides@hotmail.com.
Helpful hints about the story, you can skip this if you want, but it just explains a couple of things.
I'm very unfamiliar with The DC Comic Universe, being more of a Marvel Comics fan. However, another author who enjoyed my Marvel stories suggested I try my hand at a JLA one and gave me the seed of an idea which kept me awake nights until I decided to write it. This author sent me a huge amount of information on DC characters and personalities, for which I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks, without him, this story would not have been possible. Everything that is right about the characters, the continuity and the personalities is because of him, any mistakes are my own fault, and I apologize.
This story takes place after The Cataclysm in The Bat-Books, but with a difference. In this Universe, Washington agreed to help rebuild Gotham, which wasn't as badly damaged as it was in regular DC Continuity, and Gotham City is still part of The U.S.A. Wonder Woman is still lecturing at The Gateway City Museum of Cultural Antiquities, not living in that weirdo WonderDome thingee of hers, Aquaman still has a trident on his hand and Poison Ivy doesn't have green skin.
I was unable to find out if Metropolis and Gotham were in the same time zone, so I just assumed they were. I also put Gotham time on The JLA Watchtower on The Moon, let's call it a Global Standard Time, or GST.
Oh yeah, and here's the story!
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With a protesting screech of iron tearing against stone, a framework of light appeared, revealing a doorway unseen in the darkness for millennia.
"Shhh," gasping a low, panicky voice, "Not so loudly."
"Door's heavy," grunted a deep, stupid sounding voice, "And it feels like it's joined to the stone somehow."
"Just... just not so loud, all right," muttered the panicky voice in a hushed whisper, its fear palpable, "We don't want Him to hear."
With a final, quick groan the door was pushed open enough for the two beings to push their way through.
One was large, nearly eight feet tall and several feet across. Its shoulders were hunched up and it's muscular arms so long that its knuckles dragged along the ground as it walked. Its head was mercifully shrouded in darkness; its malformed and distorted features would make the strongest man blanch.
The other was smaller and leaner, with a swollen belly. Its arms were also long, its long, slender fingers coming down to its ankles. Standing just over five feet tall, it had two horns sloping back from its head. Its face was highlighted for a moment, revealing a lean, impish face currently twisted with a mixture of panicky fear, hope and longing. A long, forked tongue slipped out and nervously slid around its mouth and long, tapered nose.
"Where?" asked the larger.
"Shhh, Dargoban," snapped the smaller, "Can't you sense the malignance in here, it makes our abode seem tame by comparison."
"Don't smell anything, Scintar," muttered Dargoban, sniffing noisily, "And I mean nothing, there is nothing here at all, no vermin, no bugs, no food, nothing."
"At the end of this corridor," muttered Scintar, wincing at Dargoban's loud voice but not bothering to repeat its warning to be quiet, "Is another door that can only be opened from the outside, and inside that door, He awaits."
"Who is he," muttered Dargoban, "You told me that we could finally take this damned place over, that there was a guy in here who could help us, but who is he?"
"He is our master's former protege," returned Scintar as the two demons made their way down the black corridor, "You weren't around at the time, but I was, still a youngling but smart enough to keep my eyes open. Our master used to take him everywhere, teaching him everything. But when his protege tried to pull off a coup and failed, our master realized just how dangerous he had become and locked him away deep in here."
"And he's still here?"
"There is no other way out, there are three doors, which can only be opened by certain chants, and can only be opened from the outside. And there is no demon alive who knows the chants.... at least no demon our master knows of."
Dargoban chuckled.
"You."
"Exactly," laughed Scintar, "Here we are."
They were not at the end of the corridor, there was no sign of any door, but Dargoban did not doubt that Scintar was right.
"Quiet now," Scintar said, and began to chant.
He gazed into the bowl, chuckling as three young rich kids blackened their souls, chasing down a young waitress on a rainy night. They were high on drugs and horny, a dangerous combination.
"Go on, sheep," he chuckled, "It never fails to amuse me when the mortals do all my work for me, I just need to keep the doors open, and they pour their way in."
Suddenly his eyes narrowed slightly and the image in the bowl shifted, twisted and turned black.
"What is this?" he muttered, "I feel a disturbance...."
Suddenly his eye's widened.
"NO! THE FOOLS!"
The chants complete, Scintar dropped to its knees. With a weary wave of its hands, it motioned to Dargoban to open the door.
Now thin cracks were apparent in the stone, marking the outline of the door that had been hidden until now. Darboban's hands grasped at the stone and began to pull.
Down the far end of the corridor, the half open door exploded open, chunks of stone flying down the corridor.
Dargoban hesitated, its twisted face turning to see the red light spilling down the corridor, preceding the black, shadowy figure racing towards him.
"IT'S HIM!" cried Dargoban in terror.
"The door!" wheezed Scintar, "Open the door!"
Dargoban, lent strength by his fear, ripped the door out of the stone and flung it at the approaching figure.
"FOOOOLLLLLLSSS!!!" screamed Lord Neron, his eye's ablaze with unholy fury, teeth clenched in a mixture of anger and fear.
"HELP US!" commanded Scintar, raising his voice and yelling into the darkened confines of the cell before him, "We released you, help us!"
Neron arrived between them, clasped their heads in his hands and gripped down tightly.
Scintar and Dargoban squealed in agony, smoke burning from their heads. With a roar Neron flung them forward into the cell, the fire that was catching all over their bodies illuminated the cell in its entirety.
Neron's eyes widened in shock and disbelief, not believing what he was seeing.
Apart from Scintar and Dargoban's blubbering, burning forms, the cell was completely, totally empty.
And it looked like it had been that way for millennia.
Gotham City - June 1st, 1999
"Sarge! Look!" cried one of the Officers, pointing to the sky.
"What is that?" asked one bystander, shading his eyes from the glare of the setting sun, "A bird, a plane?"
Somebody smacked him on the back of the head.
"Schmuck, it's Superman."
The Man Of Tomorrow landed easily on one foot, his face impassive, his entire body seeming to ripple with his incredible powers.
"Ahhh, Mr. Superman?" asked the Sergeant hesitantly, a little unsure of the etiquette involved when talking to a Superhero.
"Sergeant?" asked Superman, "I heard there was a situation here, that someone was demanding to see me?"
"How did you hear that, we've only talked about it over secure radio bands in Gotham."
"I know," replied Superman, "I overheard them while flying about Metropolis."
The Sergeant shook his head, as if to clear it, and then asked The Man Of Steel to follow him.
Over by the police van where they were currently running things from for this situation, Commissioner Gordon was waiting.
"Superman," he said gruffly, "We would have preferred not to bring you in on this."
"We?" asked Superman.
"We," repeated a new voice, and two white slits appeared in the dark alley beside the alleyway.
"Batman," said Superman with a slight nod of his head, "I didn't hear you."
"I know," replied Batman simply, staying back in the shadows.
"The problem we have here is unfortunately a familiar one, The Joker has taken hostages inside the Bank, and we can't take the chance of going in after him, the situation is just too unpredictable."
"And he's demanding to see me?" asked Superman, "Is this to do with what happened last time?"
Batman nodded, leaving Gordon mystified. He didn't know about The Joker's attempt to drive Superman mad with guilt by trying to have The Man Of Steel murder him not so long ago.
"Let me go in," said Superman, "Whatever he has planned, I think I can handle it."
"Never think like that when you're dealing with The Joker," warned Batman, "Let me handle this."
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!" screeched a voice over a loud set of speakers set up near the front of the Bank, "I SEE YOU SUPES! COME IN! COME IN! COME INCOMEINCOMEINCOMEIN!!!!"
"Dammit,' muttered Gordon, "He knows you're hear."
"SUPES!" screamed the maniac's voice, "If you're not in here by the time I count to three, a hostage dies! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
"Don't play his games," warned Batman.
"ONE!"
"I don't have any choice," growled Superman.
"TWO!"
"Don't do it Su..." Batman stopped.
"THR..." the voice cut off.
Superman was no longer standing in front of them.
"THR..." started The Joker, then stopped as Superman appeared in the room, zooming to a stop the moment he saw the hostages were still safe, at least relatively so.
Joker's grin spread even wider than before, "You came! I'm touched, Supes!" he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.
"Joker, let these people go," warned Superman.
"LET... MY PEOPLE... GOOOOO!!!!" Joker sang loudly, his hand to his heart.
"I'm serious," growled Superman.
Suddenly, although his fixed smile remained, Joker's demeanor changed, more serious.
"So am I, Supes," he whispered, his eyes dark and unreadable, his smile mocking, "So am I."
He touched something on his belt and Superman heard a whirring noise from above the mad villain. A cone of light seemed to surround him, glowing with a green nimbus.
"What?" asked Superman, confused.
In answer, Joker pulled a gun from behind his back and pressed it against his chin.
"Joker, what are...?"
"Kryptonite, Supes," chuckled Joker, "I'm going to pull this trigger now, and blow my poor addled brains all over the back of this wall. The hostages will suffer post-traumatic shock and be in therapy for the rest of their meaningless lives, and while I'll be dead and the world will become a better place because of it, but all of their suffering and my death will be on you, because you didn't act, because you might have been hurt."
"Joker, don't act crazy..."
"HA!" laughed Joker, "That's like you not being Super!" his face took on a demonic cast, "It's not so easy to be perfect when your own ass is on the line, is it, Supes!"
He pulled the trigger.
BANG!
"SHIT!" growled Gordon, "WE'RE GOING IN!!!!"
Superman pushed the switch on Joker's belt, turning off the Kryptonite field. Almost distractedly he crushed the bullet which he had caught in his fingers.
"What happened?" asked Batman, who'd followed Superman almost instantly, but only reached the room a second after the gun had fired.
"I WON!!!!" screamed Joker, cackling wildly, "BATS! I BEAT HIM!! I BEAT SUPERMAN!"
"Sure you did, Joker," Superman muttered, taking the cuffs offered to him by Batman and manacling the Clown Prince Of Crime, "Sure you did."
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!" screamed Joker as Police entered the room and began to pull him away. Outside men from Arkham Asylum would be waiting to straitjacket him and take him away to the Institution for the Criminally Insane People with Extraordinary Abilities, "I WON! I WON!! I WON!!! I WON!!!!"
"I don't like it," muttered Batman darkly, "What did he do?"
"He surrounded himself with a thin force screen of Kryptonite and tried to shoot himself. I moved through it at Superspeed, all I felt was a momentary twinge of pain, and stopped the bullet before it could penetrate his skin."
"How close was the gun to his skin?" asked Batman.
"Pressing into it," replied Superman with a small smile on his face.
"Faster than a speeding bullet," Batman replied, the barest hint of a smirk on his face. As more police officers came into the room he settled back into the shadows, officially he was a wanted man, and although most of the police officers would ignore him, some--like Harvey Bullock--would make a point of trying to arrest him.
"I don't like it," The Dark Knight muttered, "It shouldn't have been as easy as it was."
"Relax," said Superman with a smile, "Sometimes things work out just fine."
Batman just frowned.
Maxi-Drive Enterprises - June 3rd, 1999
Dave Simkins sighed.
Here it was, three in the morning, and he was walking around in a fucking lab filled with shit that he didn't have the first clue how to work.
"This is my fucking life," he muttered.
His job was one of the most boring in the world, he sat watching bad TV for an hour, then walked about the labs, the offices and corridors, making sure nothing was amiss--which it never was--and then went and watched another hour of shitty TV.
Then he went home, tried to get a few hours of sleep then got up and watched bad afternoon television, then listened to his wife complain all evening about how bad HER fucking job was before he left to go to work for another night.
He just couldn't understand how his life could have fallen apart like this. He'd been High School Quarterback! He and his wife had been King & Queen of the Prom! They'd been voted cutest couple! He'd been popular, funny and liked by everyone.
Maybe he should have spent more time studying?
"Nah!" he chuckled, "And be like those losers who hung out in the Library and played Chess, scheah right! I ain't no loser!"
Of course, one of those 'losers' now ran Maxi-Drive Enterprises and employed him, not that he'd actually met Dave since he'd started, nor was ever likely too.
So, for what seemed like the millionth time, Dave wondered down the corridors, rather nonchalantly checking the well-lighted rooms.
For fun, he decided to change his routine, and instead of turning left at a fork in the corridors and checking the offices, then coming back to the labs, he went right to check the labs first.
And found Catwoman.
The sexy burglar was in the first lab, her back to him, bent over the central workstation, trying to extricate whatever was placed there without setting off the alarms hooked up to all the workbenches, which could only be turned off with the proper access code. Dave had codes to get into the labs, but not at the workstations, which made sense because it basically made Industrial Espionage impossible.
His first instinct was to yell out, something heroic that would strike fear into the heart of the most hardened criminal, but he quickly stopped himself. This chick had gone one on one with Batman before and managed to escape, and even in his prime he would have been wary about trying to catch her in a fair fight.
But now he had the advantage of surprise.
He moved forward quietly, and when within what he judged to be about his range, leaped forward to tackle her.
As he jumped, all he could think about was his name in the papers the next day, about the huge bonus his boss would get him. Hell, it might be enough for him to justify a loan to start his own Security business! He could train people to do the boring shit for him while he lived in the lap of luxury.
He was also thinking that the sexy villainess had a great ass.
Then he was crashing into the workstation.
Faster than his eye had been able to follow, she leaped high into the air, one leg bent, the other extended out straight. With an easy, catlike grace she'd back-flipped over him and landed completely silently on one foot behind him.
With a groan, Dave shook his head to clear it, then struggled up onto all fours.
"Whe... where da fuck did that bitch go?" he muttered.
"Rrraoow!!!! Such language!" chided a voice behind him.
He whipped around, his eyes widening when he took in the sight of the dangerous villainess in front of him.
She was incredible, a woman with a body than an Olympic Athlete would be jealous of. There didn't seem to be an inch of fat on her, unless you counted her large, firm breasts of course. She was tall, wearing a skintight purple jumpsuit with long black gloves and thigh high black boots. She wore a cowl similar to Batman's, which covered the top of her head but showed her nose and mouth. Large eyeholes showed off her expressive eyes and long, curly black hair that ran out from under the cowl to below her shoulders, tapering down to the small of her back. She was holding something behind her, but Dave hadn't seen her holding anything when he'd come across her.
"Ahh fuck," Dave muttered, rubbing his nose, "Freeze, you're under arrest."
Catwoman stared at him from wide eyes for a moment, then threw back her head and burst out laughing.
"What the fuck are you laughing at, bitch?"
Something cracked in the air, a millimeter or so from his face.
"What the fuck!?!" he cried out loud, recoiling.
Now he could see what she'd been holding behind her back, a large, very dangerous looking bullwhip.
Where the fuck had it come from? he wondered to himself.
"Bitch? You called me a bitch?" she said, a dangerous looking smile on her face.
His eyes narrowed, ignoring whatever feminist bullshit she was about to start spinning, judging the distance between them. He figured he could launch himself at her and catch her before she could bring the bullwhip up again, it looked fucking heavy.
He braced himself to move, and the bullwhip snapped in front of his face again.
"Naughty, naughty," she admonished him with a grin, then actually wagged her finger at him, "Didn't your Mommy teach you it was bad to try and beat up girls?"
"What the fuck!?!" he snapped, "What's your fucking problem? You could put out my fucking eye with thing!"
"That's the point, Einstein," Catwoman chuckled, "Now be a good little bitch and move into the corner of the lab and keep your mouth shut."
"HEY! I ain't a bitch!" he yelled, outraged and being referred to with such disrespect, didn't she know he'd once scored three touchdowns in a game to take them to the Inter-School Finals?!!
"Oh, I see," she said with a grin, "So it's all right for you to call me a bitch, but not for me to call you one?"
"I'm a man! I'm not a fucking bitch!"
Her eyes glinted with something. Anger? Insanity? Maybe humor?
"Oh, I think that's just what you are," she said, and her arm moved in a blur of speed, cracking the bullwhip again.
"AHH SHIT!!!!" Dave cried, his arm suddenly going limp. He pulled his left hand up and grabbed at his shoulder, "Ahh fuck, what'd you do?"
"I gave you a dead arm, Davey," she said with a grin, "You probably gave one to about a hundred nerds back when you were the big man at High School."
"How do you know about that?" he cried out, "And how'd you know my old nickname?"
"Oh fuck," Catwoman chuckled, shaking her head, "I knew because you guys are all alike, and I just called you Davey because your name tag says David."
"I think my arm is broken?" whimpered Dave, his right arm swinging uselessly beside him.
"Wimp," she muttered, and cracked the bullwhip again, making it crack just an inch or so from his face. This time he recoiled fearfully.
"So," she said conversationally, "What are you?"
"Huh?"
CRACK!
"What are you, Davey?" she asked, seeing the look of terror on his face as he imagined what the Bullwhip could do to his face. He stared defiantly at her for a second, then gulped fearfully as she tensed her arm.
"A.... bi..." he stopped, then shook his head.
CRACK!
"AHHH! A BITCH! I'm a bitch!" he cried, remembering the stinging pain in his now numb arm.
"Damn straight," she laughed, "And what do bitches do?"
"Huh?"
"What do bitches do, Davey?"
"They.. they do whatever they're told?"
"That's right, bitch, and you're going to do what I tell you, understand?" asked Catwoman.
"Yes," Davey replied numbly, feeling both humiliated and angered at being embarrassed like this.
"Then take off your clothes."
"WHAT!" he cried in disbelief.
The bullwhip cracked so close to his face this time that he almost pissed himself, he was so scared.
"Take your clothes off, Davey-Bitch," Catwoman said with a grin, "I staked this place out for over a month, got your routine down pat, and then you go and choose tonight to change it. I deserve a little something for having my valuable time wasted."
Dave just stood and stared at her, but when her arm flexed to use the whip, he quickly began fumbling with his belt.
"Good bitch," laughed Catwoman.
Outside the complex, a dark figure stood staring at the lighted floor of the building. There had not been any sound of alarms, and if any silent ones had been triggered, the police would have arrived by now.
"This delay can only mean one thing," he muttered to himself.
"Excellent."
Dave stood miserably, his clothes laying heaped on the floor, all he wore were his boxers... and worst of all, they had hearts on them.
"Hehe, it's almost like one of those cartoons," Catwoman chuckled, then became serious again, "But take them off too, Bitchy-Boy."
With a half-stifled sob, Dave pulled down his boxers.
"Not bad," murmured Catwoman, eyeing his genitals critically, "At least you have the equipment, although I bet you never bothered to learn how to use it properly."
She dropped the bullwhip to her side and moved forward.
Dave took his opportunity and swung at her with his good arm, and Catwoman easily dodged it and slammed her palm up hard into his armpit.
With a cry, Dave recoiled, his right arm now hanging loosely at his side. He stumbled over his clothes and fell hard onto his ass, crying out with a surprised, girlish cry.
Catwoman followed him to the floor, leaping against his chest, forcing him onto his back. He lay pinned to the floor, unable to lift himself up with two numb arms, his days of being able to leap to his feet without his arms assisting were long behind him.
Catwoman scooted back slightly, and now her ass was pressing into his crotch. With a grin she began to rub up and down over his lap, her magnificent asscheeks sliding over and over him, causing his traitorous dick to begin to swell.
"Hey, what are you doing!" cried Dave.
"Getting you ready," replied Catwoman, a smug smile on her beautiful face, "I need attention, and since you're nothing but a bitch anyway, I'll fuck you and be done with it."
"No!" he cried, "I'm married!"
Catwoman actually laughed at him, "You're married? Let me guess, high school sweethearts, right?"
Dave didn't answer, but he looked shocked. Catwoman seemed to know everything about him, how? The fact that his was a sad story repeated a billion times over had never occurred to him.
"Like you've never fucked some drunk bimbo after partying at a bar while your wife was at home anyway," muttered Catwoman, and continued stroking her ass over his cock, which was now almost fully erect and straining up against the sheer, purple material which covered her pussy.
Again Dave marveled at her knowledge of him. Sure he'd fucked a few chicks since getting married, but that had been different, they'd come on to him, and hell, he'd been drunk, a guy couldn't be blamed for going along with a girl when he was drunk, could he. But this was different, he wasn't the instigator, he wasn't the one in charge.
"That's about enough, I think," Catwoman said with a smile, reaching down and grabbing at her skintight costume around the waist. With a mighty tug and a ripping noise, the costume was torn away, exposing her flat abdomen. She lifted her ass slightly and pulled the tight costume down past her hips and thighs, revealing her vagina to him. She had only a small, rectangular patch of pubic hair over her pink cuntlips, which were completely shaven.
Damn, not like Maria's at all, Dave thought. He'd broached the subject of shaving or at least trimming with her before, and she'd shot him down immediately.
"All of those women in those magazines have airbrushing," Maria had snapped at him, "If I shave I'll get a rash, and I'll have to shave every day to keep from getting an itchy re-growth, just to please you... I don't think so!"
Catwoman now grabbed the ripped edges of her costume just below the breasts, and pulled it up over her large tits. Dave stifled a gasp as he found himself staring at two of the most perfect tits he'd ever seen. They were large, round and firm, with not an inch of sag to them, with small, pink nipples poking out and up.
"Like what you see, Davey?" she asked him, seeing his eyes leering at her breasts. She cupped the underside of her tits and gave them a couple of squeezes.
"Please don't do this," he whispered, even as a dirty little part of him rejoiced at what was about to happen.
Catwoman stared down at his straining cock, which was pointing up at a 45-degree angle directly between them.
"Don't bother fighting it, Davey, you know you want it," she giggled, "How many times did you say that to some poor girl in high school, I wonder?"
"No, don't do it!" he cried as she grabbed his cock and pulled it back to just beneath the entrance to her cunt.
Yes! Do it! cried the voice in his head, louder now, not caring about Maria, his loving, angelic wife, just wanting sex, sex, sex!
And then she did, lowering herself down onto his member, his cock parting her tight cuntlips and pushing the strong muscles aside, filling her up with his dick.
"Ahhhh," he moaned, a sound Catwoman wasn't sure was in pleasure or despair.
"Feels good," she whispered sultrily, "If you ever learned how to use this thing right, you and your wife would probably be much happier."
She continued to press herself down, down, down on his cock, her cunt slowly been filled with inch after inch of his meat. Finally she hit bottom, her cunt pressing against the base of his cock, his pubic hair tickling her cunt, making her giggle.
Dave couldn't believe her tightness. It reminded him of his first time with Maria, back in high school when he'd gotten her into the back of his old Packard (which still sat in his garage) and eagerly fucked her virgin pussy with everything he'd had, cumming in a little under four minutes (which nowadays was about average for him). Her cunt was tight, wet and hot, grasping onto his cock and sucking back on it every time Catwoman lifted her ass back up. Her hands roamed all over her breasts, and Dave found himself longing to sit up and take the large orbs of tit flesh in his hands, squeeze them and knead them, suck on the small, erect nipples. His arms were beginning to gain a little feeling back, a tingling which he barely noticed with her cunt clasping tightly to his cock, but he figured that she wouldn't let him take any initiative anyway.
I'll just have to sit back and bear with it, he thought, already changing his mind's position from unwilling to tolerance, while his inner subconscious reveled in getting to fuck the hot villainess.
He actually let out a low groan of pleasure as he felt her cuntlips spreading open and Catwoman's vaginal opening before his cock. He realized what he'd done and tried to suppress any more noises by tightly closing his mouth, but moans continued to come up from his throat, heard even through his tightly compressed lips.
Catwoman laughed happily as she felt the married man's cock sliding up into her tight cunt. Her juices were flowing steadily, lubricating the way for his admittedly above average cock to press up into her pussy. She rotated and ground her hips as she moved up and down, getting his cock to press right up against her eager snatch, pumping up and down, getting every last inch deep inside of her.
"That's right, bitch, you're my toy, my tool, my fucking human dildo," she laughed, "You're here to get me off, bitch!"
He heard her derogatory comments but didn't care anymore, all he could think about was how good her cunt felt around his cock. All thoughts of his wife had faded, all thoughts of his job, or of what she had been attempting to steal. All he cared about was that he was fucking Catwoman! Or rather, she was fucking him, but that didn't matter, the end result was the same.
Dave just couldn't believe hot nice and hot and tight Catwoman's cunt was around his cock. Every time she began to pull herself up from the base of his cock he felt momentary fear that she was going to keep pulling off. But of course she didn't, she was enjoying this too much to stop, and when only his cockhead was left inside her tight little pussy, she'd plunge back down, her ass slapping against his thighs, her cunt spreading open and taking all of his meat deep inside.
She slammed up and down on top of him, plunging her cunt up and down, shoving her hips back and forth, grinding hard against his lap. She shifted the angle of her plunges, so that his cock raked along her clit when it crammed its way back into her eager snatch, causing hot vibes of pleasure to race throughout her sexy body.
She kneaded her breasts roughly in her hands, moaning and groaning happily as she twisted her nipples between her fingers, sending flaming lancets of pleasure throughout her entire nervous system.
Dave lay completely still, not taking any active part whatsoever in the sex. He did this for two reasons. The first was so that it wouldn't appear like he was into this (despite the loud groans coming from his throat and the look of lust filled pleasure on his face) and also so that she wouldn't realize he was enjoying it and stop, because right now there was nothing he wanted more than to shoot his load deep up into the hot, sexy villainess' cunt.
Her pink, juiced up cuntlips clung to his cock as she lifted herself up, and pushed back in when she sunk back down onto his meat, grinding her cunt hard against his lap.
Catwoman threw her head back as far as she could, her eyes squeezing shut, and she let out a heartfelt cry of pure and absolute ecstasy. She slammed her hips forward and back as she fucked him, her magnificently rounded ass tensing and clenching as her cuntlips clamped and choked his cock, making it rasp along her cuntwalls as she lifted up and down, up and down.
She fucked him harder and harder, finding it difficult because her cunt was gripping to his dick with a life of its own, refusing to release the hot, hard meat of the man that she was effectively raping.
"OOOOH YES!!" Catwoman screamed, releasing one of her breasts and slamming her hand against her clitoris, grinding her erect lovebutton hard, feeling a massive orgasm approaching. Her beautiful face was contorted in desire, one hand squeezing her tit while the other rubbed and twisted along her clit. She rammed her hips up and down, pushing forward and back, her sweaty, athletic body shuddered and jerked about as she fucked the security guard.
Her cunt squeezed down on his cock harder than ever before, making the friction of their fucking even greater, which in turn created even more pleasure. Catwoman squealed out a high pitched squeal of utter, total and complete satisfaction.
"YESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!" she squealed, and orgasmed hard, her juices exploded out from around his cock in small sprays. His dick was crammed so deep up her cunt that her juices were almost trapped in her cunt, only able to spray out in tiny, spurting streams. She ground her ass down on his hips, writhing about on him as she came, her body jerking and flailing, crying out a long, shuddery cry of sated passion.
Finally she wound down from her orgasm, and slowly fell forward onto his chest, a wide, lazy smile on her face. Her huge breasts squashed against his chest, her long hair rubbing into the groove of his neck, her ass was thrust up slightly but her cunt remained wrapped around his dick.
I'm so close, Dave thought with a moan, he'd only been moments from orgasm when she'd stopped humping up and down on him and fell forward onto his chest, But I can't say anything.
She looked up at him and smiled smugly.
"Like that, bitch?"
"I'm not a bitch," he muttered hoarsely, his voice uneven, actually cracking as he said the word 'bitch'.
"Sure you're not," she giggled, and kissed him lightly on the lips, then she lifted herself slowly, languorously off of him. Her cunt released his cock reluctantly, sliding out with a wet, sluicing noise.
She stood up and turned around, not even bothering to tie him down, so disdainful she was of any danger he might pose. And indeed, he stayed down, having accepted that he couldn't stop her no matter how vulnerable she looked.
She bent over by the workstation, fumbling through something, she pulled it out to get better access and he saw that it was a small, black bag.
"Aha," she laughed, pulling out what looked like a spray can, colored purple.
With wide eyes, Dave watched as she sprayed it on over her breasts, waist and thighs. When she'd sprayed a copious amount on, she pulled the remains of her costume up over her hips and down over her breasts, and pressed the edges both together against the wet, purple spray on her skin.
"It's a type of latex," Catwoman explained with a grin, seeing Dave's wide eyes, "Quick drying, spray on and very adhesive to materials, but not to skin. It'll serve as a makeshift costume until I get back home."
She pulled her hands from the torn edges of her costume, which now looked like bumps in her overall skintight gear. Up close it wouldn't stand up to inspection, but it seemed likely that not many people would get a chance to walk up to her and look her over up close and personal.
"Now, one last thing," she muttered, and walked back over to the workstation, where a small sphere was set into tough metal locks which would only be released by the proper access code. For the first time, he noticed that the alphanumeric pad had been pulled aside, somehow bypassing the inset security alarms, and she'd been crossing wires when he'd entered and discovered her.
She manipulated the wires and with a loud 'CLICK!' the metal locks released the sphere.
"Excellent," she laughed, gingerly removing it as she checked for pressure locks, of which there were none.
She put the sphere into the bag, which she scooped up and slung over her shoulder, then walked over to Dave.
She picked up the bullwhip, leaned down and kissed him lightly on the forehead.
"Goodbye, bitch, now you know what's it like to be your wife every time you can get it up long enough to roll on top of her, maybe you'll be a little more thoughtful in future."
She turned and left, and Dave remained lying on his back for quite some time afterwards.
Catwoman swung through the loft's skylight and landed gracefully, quickly surveying the room from the floor, as she'd already done from the skylight, to check for any ambushes or traps.
"You have the sphere?" asked a voice.
"Rrraooow!" she hissed, whirling about and finding herself facing a tall, lean figure swathed in shadows, "You make me sound like a clumsy elephant!"
"Never think of yourself as an elephant," said the figure, reaching out and sliding a finger over her chin, "You are a graceful, beautiful..."
Catwoman pulled away with a slightly contemptuous grin on her face, "Watch it, buddy, this cat has claws."
The dark figure said nothing, but she seemed to sense that he was smiling at her.
"Of course," he said finally, "The sphere?"
"The amulet?"
He held up one hand, dangling by a golden chain was a small, round amulet made of gold, with a small, red ruby inset.
She held up the sphere.
They exchanged simultaneously, neither taking their eyes of the other.
"Excellent," he said, "I knew I could rely on you."
"Purrrfect," she purred, holding up the amulet, "I got the better end of this bargain."
"If you say so, my dear," chuckled the dark figure, "If you say so."
Metropolis, 4th June, 1999
The bar was quiet, most of the low number of occupants watching a football game on the TV set in the corner of the room.
Dinah Laurel Lance--Black Canary--sighed to herself as she lackadaisically stirred her drink with her finger.
What was she doing here? she wondered to herself, what had she been thinking?
She'd been sitting at home, watching so called prime time television, and decided to go out and have some fun.
And so, instead of hanging around at home and being miserable she was hanging out in a shitty bar being miserable.
She'd thought about going out dancing, but changed her mind. The music at clubs was too loud, you had to constantly keep an eye on your drink to make sure it wasn't spiked with E or something worse, and you were inevitably hit on by some loser who couldn't take no for an answer and would end up ruining your night.
And that was just a normal club, considering that today the latest trend was to dance in the ruins of some of the big buildings brought down by the recent earthquake, where DeeJay's and lights had been set up with traveling bars and bouncers going along for the ride. It was hardly her scene.
So she went to a bar to enjoy good conversation and listen to some good music, an idea she'd picked up watching Ally McBeal, and now here she was, in a quiet, moody bar with nothing to do.
"Excuse me," said a voice next to her, she turned around and found herself facing a tall, lean man. He was dressed in dark clothes but had a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes which seemed to indicate a good natured attitude, "Is this seat taken?"
"No," she said with a slight smile, "Go ahead, take it."
He sat down next to her and ordered a bourbon and coke.
"Night on the town?" he asked her.
"Kind of," she replied, "Listen, I'm not going to be great for conversation tonight, maybe you'd enjoy yourself more watching the game."
She waved her arm at the four men over in the corner of the bar, chatting noisily about what the quarterback should have done at the last play.
"Hmmm, sitting quietly or sitting with four drunk ex-high school football stars, I wonder what I'd prefer?" he said with a small smile.
She chuckled.
"I know, I probably wouldn't be good conversation myself," he said, "I came out because I didn't want to sit at home alone, so now here I am, out on the town and alone."
She chuckled again, "At least I'm not the only one," she replied.
"Thank goodness for that," he said, "There are two of us, then."
"Two people, all alone," she returned, "How sad is that?"
He laughed with her.
"Ah well, let's be alone together, it's only half as boring."
He took a sip of his drink and she chuckled again, and she took the opportunity to look him over, simply for the hell of it.
He looked like he was fit, but not one of those muscle-bound idiots who lived only to look good. He was lean but well proportioned, with short dark hair slicked back naturally, which indicated he cared about his appearance but wasn't obsessive about it. His face had a good-natured look to it despite his sharp features, which on anyone else would probably make him look dark and disturbing. He did have that quality to some extent, but it was offset by the sparkling good humor evident in his eyes. All in all he was attractive, although nothing special, he certainly wasn't a movie star by any means.
"Hi," she said, as he put his drink back down, offering her hand to him, "I'm Dinah."
"Hi," he replied, taking her offered hand and shaking it lightly, not trying to prove anything by squeezing or shaking vigorously, "I'm Dominic."
Diana Prince--WonderWoman--slept.
For some time now she'd been lecturing at the Gateway City Museum of Cultural Antiquities, something she did as Diana Prince when she wasn't on one of the progressively more dangerous missions The JLA had been facing since reforming.
Recently she'd found herself becoming increasingly more tired with both The JLA and her lectures. Not a physical exhaustion, but more a mental and emotional one. Her lectures were all carbon copies of the previous ones she'd given. Because she spent so much time rushing to prevent disaster after disaster on either this planet or one of the practically infinite other planets in the Universe, she didn't have time to prepare new lectures anymore. And the friendly camaraderie that had existed between The JLA had become strained as of late, with Superman and Batman's 'friendly' testing of each other becoming more serious, Aquaman's constantly irritable moods, Green Lantern's annoying naivete, sexual harassment from an angel of all people and, to top it off, one of the newest recruits to The JLA--Big Barda--was constantly spoiling for a fight with her.
Things were becoming more trouble than they were worth, and she felt like there was no longer any 'Diana time'.
Now she lay sleeping, relaxing for the first time in what seemed like forever, just zoning out.
She dreamed, something she also rarely did, finding herself in a strangely relaxing void where she seemed to be completely alone, floating in a void of nothingness, no up, no down, no left or right, there was just nothing, just her.
Blessed peace, she was removed from the world's problems and fears, she was alone. There would be no emergency JLA alarm going off, no beeper buzzing incessantly for her, no phone calls or Jehovah's Witnesses calling at the door.
She realized that she was naked, but was strangely unconcerned by her nudity. Here it didn't seem to matter, in fact she would have probably found clothes constrictive, she decided, and would have removed them anyway.
She floated up onto her back and lay in perfect relaxation, feeling her breasts fall to the sides of her chest, no longer held in place by the tight breastplate of her costume. Her breasts were large and firm, with no sag to them at all, but with her muscles relaxed they had simply dropped to the sides, actually putting a very slight pressure on her breasts which she actually found quite pleasant.
She let her legs spread slightly, relaxing her thighs and calves, feeling a light, cool breeze swell up and pass over her body, caressing her flesh and raising a cool shiver over her body. She smiled, she felt so good.
Her long, black hair was hanging down beneath her into the void, and with a languorous movement of her arms she reached behind her neck and lifted her hair up. Her smile widened as she slid her clean, smooth hair over her face, it felt so good, sending a pleasant shiver throughout her face and chest. She slowly slid her long, raven hair down over her breasts, rubbing it against her erect nipples and letting out a low, happy moan.
She left her hair on her firm breasts, and reached up with her hands to cup the large tits in each small--but powerful--hands. Her eyes were lazily peering down at her breasts, liking the look of her mammaries, marveling at her own size.
I never really realized how sexy I was, she thought, and giggled at thinking such a silly thought.
Ever since leaving the Island of Themyscira, sent by her mother--Queen Hippolyta--to be an ambassador to the World of Man, she had denied herself anything but the most Spartan existence. It hadn't been a conscious choice, it was just that she had been more compelled by her duty to bring peace to Earth than to lead any kind of fun lifestyle of her own. Unlike many superheroes, her secret identity was an invented alter-ego, she was Wonder Woman, and when she needed to go around undisguised, she used Diana Prince as a convenient disguise.
But she'd sacrificed so much for so long now, that she was beginning to feel like maybe it wasn't so much that she just enjoy herself, if only for a night.
She felt so relaxed, like her muscles could just drop off right now, they were so loose. A good vibe was running through her body, a vibe which she didn't recognize as sexual arousal, because she didn't usually feel it. The only time she'd really been highly sexually aroused by a man was after her first meeting with Superman, and the next time they'd met The Man Of Steel had given her a passionate kiss which she still sometimes remembered fondly. They'd decided stupidly that it was more important that they keep their relationship strictly business, working together to fight crime and save the world.
She laughed lightly as her fingers traced small circles around her nipples, running it over her hair onto the skin, then reversing and running over her tit-flesh again before lightly flicking her nipple with her finger. She let out a slight moan and her legs parted a little more, a lightly, glistening sheen apparent on her vaginal lips.
She recognized the feeling now as something akin to what she felt when she shaved her pubic hair. She did it purely out of necessity, she did wear a very skimpy costume she had to admit, and she shaved her vaginal lips purely to avoid any possibly embarrassments with panty lines.
She wouldn't have minded changing the costume to something less revealing when she'd first arrived in the World Of Men, but the costume was the one presented to her after defeating the other Amazons in the battle to decide the Ambassador to Man's World, the one set aside for Wonder Woman and it was compulsory for her to wear it. And she'd grown fond of it, when she'd been forbidden to wear it for a time after her sister Artemis defeated her in battle, she'd felt almost naked without it and after getting it back had felt like she was being reunited by an old friend.
As it sometimes did while sitting home on those rare nights she wasn't out adventuring, her vagina became more prominent in her mind, she was far more aware of it. She felt a strange longing for something, but didn't know what it was.
She was familiar with sex, of course, she knew the ins and outs--she giggled to herself at the pun--of sexual intercourse, and knew that what she was longing for wasn't that, but something else.
Alas, if she'd just asked a female friend or happened to see a porn movie she would know what she needed, but she didn't know anyone she trusted enough to ask about something so personal.
This time, the feeling grew more insistent in her crotch, not fading over time as it always had before. She sensed that there was something she could do to quell the burning flame that seemed to be pulsing through her vagina, something basic she was overlooking, but she couldn't think what it might be.
She began to moan louder and louder as the sensation built and built and built within her crotch, seeming to center just above the opening to her vaginal passage, in a small bump which always seemed to vibrate and react the hardest when she shaved herself.
Sometimes when she shaved, the vibrations ran through her lips and the little button like object and seemed to strike a chord in her nerves, because her body would jump and jerk, and she'd feel a strange sensation ride through her body. As she shaved for longer and longer she'd hit the nerve more often and jerk around more, pressure seeming to build up in her lap until it would finally burst and she'd feel an intense feeling of satisfaction for some reason. The feelings were more muted when she shaved with a blade rather than an electric razor, but she was sure the pressure she was putting on whatever nerve was in her crotch couldn't be healthy for her, and so she used the electric razor only once a month or so. She also tended to marvel at the wonders of the body, which seemed to provide its own lubrication for shaving, as was evident from copious amounts of liquids which flowed from her vaginal passage every time she hit the nerve for the final time, leaving her breathless and feeling strangely relaxed.
But now she was feeling something akin to what she felt when she shaved, but without benefit of razor or blade. She could feel a muscle in her thigh twitching, and her breathing was getting heavier. Suddenly, rubbing her hair and fingers against her breasts, which had seemed such an innocent, fun thing, took on a different slant. She began to feel a strange, stretching feeling in her nipples, as they strained up, pointing right up, extended to the limits of their reach. Her skin seemed suddenly hyper-sensitive, her crotch crying out for something she didn't know how to give.
"Uhhh," she moaned, gripping her lower lip in her teeth, her eyes squeezing shut, her hands squeezing shut on her large breasts.
Her eyes shot wide open as she felt an intense wave of pleasure charge through her body as she squeezed her breasts. Her nipples felt hot and sensitive against her skin, her vaginas strident cry had become somewhat muted for a few moments.
She squeezed her breasts experimentally again and felt another wave of pleasure, not as intense but still incredibly arousing. But after the initial muting of her vagina's throbbing desire, it returned seemingly louder than ever.
"UH!" she cried out, "What do you want? I don't know what to give you!"
Even though she was crying out in desperation, she could swear she heard an answer, probably from her own subconscious.
Sate me! Fill me! I need! her vagina seemed to cry.
Wonder Woman rolled her head to the side, her body no longer relaxed but tense and wanting, crying out for something. Her arms dropped to her sides, fists clenched, balling her toes and flinging her head back, her hair flinging out wildly. Her fists unclenched and she clawed at her sides, pressing her fingers against her hips, tugging at her legs and waist, moving her hands all around her crotch, but never actually touching it.
"AH HERA!" she cried, "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!!"
Her legs spread out wide, her cunt on fire, and in a last ditch effort to quench the flame, she grabbed at her vagina with both hands, clutching at the hot cuntmound with her fingers.
And exploded with an orgasm.
Her eyes rolled back in her head and she let out an intense scream on animalistic ecstasy at the totally unexpected release. Her crotch ground up into her hand and her legs flung wide, her breasts squashed together between her arms, rubbing against each other.
She felt intensely aware of her entire body, every cell, every pore and inch of skin. But her main focus was on her crotch, where wave after wave of sexual passion was being released, her hips bouncing and flailing, her clitoris grinding against her palms, which were sweaty and hot. Never had she felt such intense satisfaction, she felt free, felt released, as if with this explosion of... something, she wasn't sure what, that all the pent up tensions and anger and repression had been released simply by grabbing her cunt.
"Cunt," she whispered as her screams of passion ended, "Cuntcuntcunt."
She'd heard the word before, knew that it was a crude other word for vagina. But she'd never thought it of herself before, she'd never thought of herself as having a cunt, or even tits, just a vagina and breasts, if she thought of it at all.
She felt dirty and sexy and beautiful all at the same time, like she'd discovered a secret no one else had ever known before. As she lay floating in the strange void of her dreamscape, her hands buried between her thighs, clasping her cuntcuntcunt and her breasts squashed up against themselves.
She smiled, a smug, sated smile and strangely enough for a dream, fell back to sleep, her cuntjuices floating away into the void.
**
The scientist watched the levels on the monitor change slowly, indicating the occupant of the tube had fallen into a deeper form of sleep.
"Just like he said it would," the scientist muttered to himself, sipping at his coffee, "His subliminal conditioning broke her precisely when he said it would."
He shook his head in admiration and turned to look at the row of sleeping tubes, over twenty lined up along the wall, only four were currently in use.
And one of the four occupants was Wonder Woman, floating naked in green liquid, an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose.
Arkham Asylum, 5th June, 1999
The Joker sat in his cell, laughing, laughing, laughing and laughing, as he had done so endlessly since arriving 4 days ago. He even laughed in his sleep.
"SHUT UP!!!!" screamed Killer Croc, slamming his huge fists against the specially reinforced, transparent screen, "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FREAKING LOON!!"
The only answer was more laughter.
"Croc!" yelled a guard, stopping by the cell, "Keep it down."
"ME!?!" cried Killer Croc incredulously, "YOU TELLING ME TO SHUT UP!"
"Relax, I'll shut the clown up," replied the guard--Gareth Jenkins, a humorless, middle aged bully who enjoyed his position of power in the Asylum.
He moved over to The Joker's cell.
"Joker, shut up," he snapped.
The white-faced lunatic whirled about, a huge grin on his face as he leered at Jenkins, and then he started laughing again.
"Warned ya, Jokey," chuckled Jenkins, and flicked a switch next to the cell.
The floor, fitted with a special electric grid, fired a low-level electric charge which jolted Joker's body straight up, making him scream out in pain as for several seconds electricity coursed through his body.
The electric grid was designed to quiet rioting or uncontrollable prisoners. The guards were only to use it as a last resort, but Jenkins felt justified considering the almost constant torture Joker had been inflicting on his fellow inmates.
Jenkins stopped the flow of electricity to the grid, leaving the Joker to collapse onto all fours, choking and gasping for air.
He turned to stare at Jenkins, his eyes narrowed slightly, his infamous smile faded... and then his eyes grew wide and his grin wider, and he began to laugh again, louder than before.
"FUCK!!!!" screamed Croc, echoed by most of the other prisoners in that block, designed to hold the worst of the worst.
Jenkins swore, turned, and headed back to his workstation to log in his actions.
And alone amongst all the screaming prisoners, Poison Ivy sat on her bare knees, staring thoughtfully at cell wall next to her--where The Joker was held--through half lowered lashes.
And smiled.
9:37 AM
Kyle stretched his body full length, giving out a happy, contented yawn.
And bumped his fist into somebody's side.
"MMMMPH!" grumbled a female voice.
Kyle froze, paralyzed for an instant because he didn't know who he was lying in bed with, and then relaxed as he remembered.
He'd had a busy year, what with traveling to the 853rd Century and single-handedly (with a little help from The JLA) stopping Solaris--a creature with the power of a Sun; accidentally going back in time and bringing his predecessor--Hal Jordan--back with him, then heading off into space in a disastrous attempt to reform the Green Lantern Corps, before returning to Earth and falling back into the arms of his girlfriend, daughter of the original Green Lantern--Alan Scott--and a Green Lantern in her own right, Jenny-Lynn Hayden, also known as Jade.
She been living with him already as a matter of convenience, and had really settled in during his absence. When he came back it had just become a matter of convenience that they continued to live together, and so far he was enjoying 'welcome home sex' too much to realize he'd made a commitment and was involved in a mature relationship, the next step being marriage, kids, commitment and all that good junk.
But he was also getting some every night, so he tended to ignore that kind of thought.
"Sorry, babe," he murmured, rubbing his eyes sleepily, "Not used to sharing a bed, you know."
"No problem, honey," murmured the voice of the woman next to him, the voice of someone most definitely not his girlfriend.
He twisted about in his bed, sitting bolt upright and pulling back defensively.
"Relax, Kyle," chuckled the woman lying in bed next to him, an incredibly beautiful woman with long, blue-black hair spilling down her back…a woman he didn't know.
"I don't bite," she smiled seductively and leaned forward towards him, moving her hands slightly and allowing the sheet draped over her chest to drop down, revealing her large, firm breasts to him, "Unless you want me to."
"Oh geez," muttered Kyle, "To think I used to dream about this kind of thing."
The Flash, Big Barda and Plastic Man entered Kyle's apartment, all three using their talents to hide their presence. Wally simply moved at superspeed, Big Barda's motherbox kept her 'shielded' so that she was very hard to see and Plastic Man could disguise himself as anything, although he tended towards extravagance and outrageousness whenever he could.
Oh great, three of the least together members of The League are the only ones to answer my call, Kyle thought with a groan.
Wally West--The Flash--was immature, brash, quick to lose focus and tended not to take things too seriously if he didn't have to. He flowed from moments of great maturity and leadership to childish practical jokes and competitiveness with Kyle, who had taken his place as the fresh new kid on the team.
Big Barda, one of the so-called 'New Gods Of Apokolips', was a warrior. Brash, confrontational and undiplomatic. She'd been getting in Wonder Woman's face since joining The JLA, trying to assert her dominance over the Amazon.
Plastic Man was... well he was Plastic Man.
"So what's the problem here, Kyle?" asked Wally, as he spoke, Plastic Man extended his neck into Kyle's doorway and spotted the naked woman in the Green Lantern's bed, pulling back before she saw him.
"Geez, man, so you lost your virginity, you don't have to call the team in," joked Plastic Man.
"Cut the jokes," muttered Kyle, more serious than usual, "And call me Green Lantern or GL at least, this is serious... besides, nothing happened between us."
"Premature ejaculation," Plastic Man whispered conspiratorially into Big Barda's ear. The Warrior-Woman swatted irritably at him, but he'd already pulled his extended neck back to just above his shoulders and was smiling cheekily.
"Kyle, come back to bed," called the woman from the bedroom, "Tell your friends to come back tomorrow."
"You want us back tomorrow, loverboy?" chuckled Wally, then suddenly took on a more serious look, "I know that voice."
"You do?" asked Kyle hopefully, "Is she the type to do stuff to guys' girlfriends, when Jade wasn't here this morning the first thing I did was check the fridge."
"It depends," muttered The Flash thoughtfully, "We better get hold of Batman or J'onn, we'll need one of them to figure this whole thing out."
"Why, what is going on?" asked Barda, cutting straight to the point as usual, "Is this woman a killer or a warrior?"
"Both," replied Flash, "Her name is Carol Ferris, and she used to be Star Sapphire."
Gotham City, 10:17 AM
"Come on, quickly man," whispered Todd, sitting in his van and nervously waiting for his friends to load up the back.
"Calm down," laughed Kurt, pushing the heavy TV he was carrying to the back of the van, "No one comes around here, it's one of the areas marked for total demolition and reconstruction."
Since the massive earthquake which had shattered Gotham City, several residential and business areas had been so severely damaged that they'd been marked for total wipeout, to be torn down and rebuilt stronger than before.
And since these areas were deserted by police order, many groups of looters had risked life and limb to get in and grab those possessions and items of value left behind which were still in good enough order to sell for money.
"I don't like it, is all," muttered Todd, "The Bat's been going overtime since the Government agreed to help rebuild, he's everywhere, stopping everyone."
"He ain't everywhere," snorted Tony, another of the gang of four, each only a couple of years out of high school and already living up to the expectations of many of their teachers. "He's just one guy, he just made a lot of high profile captures to try and scare us, besides, he only comes out at night, he's a bat, ain't he!"
Tony and Kurt laughed and Todd chuckled slightly, until the hood of the van thumped and the vehicle shifted and bounced slightly as a sudden weight dropped onto the bonnet.
"Wha..." started Todd, seeing a pair of slim, toned legs encased in tough looking, dark purple boots on the hood of his van.
He thrust his head out of the window to take a look at the rest of the woman, and got a hard boot to the face, slamming the back of his head against the window frame, breaking his nose and knocking him out.
"What the FUCK!" cried Kurt, the biggest and most heavyset of the four, and dropped the stereo he was carrying, "Who the fuck are you?"
The woman dressed in skintight purple and black didn't answer him, she just leaped up high above him, flipping gracefully in the air above then, making Tony and Kurt crane their heads up to watch her silhouette against the sun.
"Whoa," muttered Tony, "Who does she think she is?"
She landed behind them and they twisted about, keeping a respectful distance despite their cavalier, unfearful manner. They got their first clear look at the woman.
She wore a black, skintight bodysuit from neck to toes, a purple 'V' running down across her breasts and over and under her crotch, riding up underneath between her buttocks.
She had a purple cape which came down to her ankles, and wore knee-high purple boots that were laced about the knees--the edges poking out on either side--and purple gloves to her elbows, tied firmly to her arms by straps of the same shade of purple around her wrists and below her elbows.
A purple belt was cinched tight around her waist with a large golden buckle containing a batlike symbol in the middle. The belt had pouches sitting on both hips, probably containing all kinds of little gadgets and tricks.
She wore an eyemask, seemingly struck to her face and leaving her nose, mouth, ears and forehead exposed. She had shoulder-length, dark purple hair and wore a golden crucifix around her neck.
"I know this bitch," chuckled Kurt, "She's called Huntress; she thinks she's Batman."
"We should teach her a lesson," chuckled Tony, "Make her sorry for what she did to poor Toddy."
The two men approached her slowly, menacingly, and fast as lightning Huntress launched herself forward, grabbed Tony by one arm and pulled it hard forward, at the same time pressing the palm of her other hand hard against his chest and applying forward leverage with her legs. The result was a sickening scrunching noise as Tony's arm was dislocated, something that could be fixed relatively easy and would leave no real permanent damage, but hurt like hell and looked even worse.
She danced backwards as Kurt swung at her, keeping easily out of his reach, a small, grim smile darting across her beautiful lips as the increasingly frustrated thug continued to come tantalizingly close to hitting her.
"FUCK!!!!" screamed Tony, clutching his dangling arm and staring at it in shock, "YOU BITCH, YOU TORE MY ARM OFF!!!!" he then proceeded to faint, as the appearance of his arm proved to be too much for his mind to handle.
Kurt threw another angry punch at Huntress, and this time she simply stepped aside and tripped him, making him lose his center of balance entirely and come down hard on his face.
"GUFF!" he cried, and remained down for a few seconds before struggling to his feet. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs, then scooped up a large piece of wood lying on one of the piles of shifted debris moved by rescue workers when looking for survivors of the quake.
"Okay, you little bitch," he grunted, "Now I'll show you what a real man can do."
She lifted her hand and motioned for him to come with her finger, that same little smirk on her face.
"Smug little BITCH!" roared Kurt and came forward, swinging wildly.
She stepped into the swing, smashed her palm hard into his elbow, hitting the nerve there and making his hand open involuntarily, dropping the wood. She brought another palm hard up into his face, forcing his head back too sharply than was good for him. Pain lanced through his entire face and he staggered back, but didn't go down.
"Tough one," she murmured to herself, then smashed one purple booted foot hard into his face, knocking him off his feet and onto his ass. He sat there with a stupid look on his now bloody face, then fell backwards and lay still, breathing deeply and evenly.
Huntress allowed her smile to increase slightly, and she dusted off her hands.
"BITCHHHH!!!!" screamed a voice and she was dodging behind the van even as bullets fired from the wreck of the house where the looters had been going about their work.
She inwardly cursed herself for not casing out the area a little before leaping in, she'd missed this fourth person, and maybe more inside.
She dropped to the ground and looked under the van, seeing a pair of feet encased in leather motorcycle boots with a complicated series of straps hesitantly make their way out into the open.
When the fourth looter didn't see her anywhere, he rushed towards the van, probably to check around the back and see if she was there. She rose to her feet and grabbed the van's backdoor, which turned on the hinge right back against the side of the van.
As she heard the steadily increasing crunch of his boots get closer, she swung the door hard back around, smashing it into the man's face.
"FUCK!" he cried.
She pulled the door back then slammed it back forward, then back and then forward again.
She came around the side of the door and found herself facing a James Dean wannabe, although he probably thought of himself more as a Luke Perry type, dressed in leathers and chains with slicked back hair and terrible acne. His nose was beginning to bleed and his eyes were scrunched tight, lying on the ground was the gun he'd fired at her with, he'd dropped it the moment she first hit him with the van door.
"Scumbucket!" she snapped at him, grabbing him by the back of the head and pulling it back. She slammed the van door shut and then slammed his head forward through the glass, "These are peoples things! Their possessions!"
She pulled him out and raised one clenched fist, then saw his broken, battered face and stopped, dropping her fist hesitantly. One more punch could have killed him; she could have murdered someone for stealing a TV.
Recently Batman had been trying to curb her more vicious tendencies and bring her more to his way of crimefighting, doing what was necessary to bring the bad guys in but not step over the line and become judge, jury and executioner. If she'd killed this scum, she could have ruined herself and any chance she'd have to learn under the greatest detective, martial artist and crimefighter the world had ever known.
She let the unknown fourth looter drop to the ground and walked around to the front of the van, where Todd still sat with his head against the window.
She scooped up the cell phone (everyone had them nowadays) and dialed 911.
"Hello, four people were trying to loot a house," she said to the operator, "They seem to have hurt themselves, please send police and an ambulance."
She left the phone on and threw it into Todd's lap, where the operator would be able to get a trace for the police to lock onto. She then reached down past the steering wheel and pulled the keys out, throwing them away into the rubble.
"Now," she said, "I'll...."
And a small arrow thumped into the van next to her head.
10:30 AM
"She is Carol Ferris, as far as I can determine," said J'onn J’onnz--The Martian Manhunter--to the other four JLA'ers, "Or at least, she believes she is."
"What do you mean?" asked Flash, "Is she someone else?"
"What I am saying," said J'onn, "Is that someone can be made to believe they are someone else and pass even telepathic probing. Whether that is the case here or not, I do not know, but she believes she is Carol Ferris. She has all of Carol's memories, but she also has other memories, memories of meeting and falling in love with our Green Lantern, her memories include several events of Green Lantern's life which she should not be aware of, including our recent trip to the 853rd Century."
"So what, is she from an alternate dimension or some kind of 2nd Earth or something?" asked Green Lantern.
"Huh," chuckled Flash, "Some kind of Earth-2, yeah right, buddy."
The others stared at him momentarily, then went back to their conversation.
"For now I can suggest nothing else," said J'onn, "Star Labs in Metropolis might be able to scan her for signs of dimensional energy patterns, but The JLA can offer no help right now."
"J'onn," said Carol, entering the living room, holding a tray filled with mugs of tea and coffee, "Will you stay for drinks? I made you a tea, I know how you like it."
"No thank you, Carol, I am leaving," said J'onn, "But thank you for the offer."
"Okay," muttered Kyle, "That's it, lady, we're going to Star Labs."
"When will you be back, honey?" Carol asked.
"Huh?"
"Before you and Ms. Barda get back?"
Kyle sighed, "No, you and me, me and you, you and I, we and us, we're going to Star Labs."
"Why?" she asked.
He grabbed her by the wrist and with a flash of green light they flew out the window.
The others stood around in the living room, feeling uncomfortable in a stranger's apartment.
The door opened and Jenny-Lynn Hayden stepped through the door, holding two bags of groceries.
"Well okay," she said, "We've been living together less than a year and already he's bringing people home from work without telling me."
Huntress didn't hesitate, she lifted her arms above her head, pulled herself quickly up and backflipped over the roof of the van, coming down on the other side of the vehicle.
She landed on all fours, bracing herself with her arms, already thinking of her next move.
She hadn't seen the attack coming, but from the impact and angle of the arrow knew roughly where her opponent was. She also thought the short, stubby arrow had been more of a warning, and that if her unseen assailant had wanted to, he could have split her head open.
So he's trying to get a message across, what is it? Is he trying to scare me, warn me I'm on his turf?
She reached up and opened the other van door, sliding up into the passenger seat, closing the door silently behind her. She figured that if worst came to worst she could hotwire the van and drive away faster than her opponent could follow.
"Step out of the van!" yelled a voice, an unmistakably female voice.
She stayed still, wondering if her opponent, who was a woman by the sounds of things, was bluffing or knew she was in the van.
"If you think I can't blow that thing up in less than a second, you're in for a big surprise."
Huntress went for the element of surprise, and pushed the driver's side door open, diving out and rolling along the ground, hoping to come up in the general area where she'd sensed her opponents voice and catch her off guard.
But when she rolled across the ground, she found a small voice transmitter/receiver lying on the ground.
"Wha...?" she started, and was kicked hard in the back of the head, making her fall forward. She tucked into a roll and sprang up onto her toes, eyes darting up and catching only a glimpse of purple boots raising above the periphery of her vision.
She twisted about and rolled away, her opponent landing easily on her toes right where Huntress had been.
"What the hell," gasped Huntress, finally seeing her opponent revealed.
It was like looking into a mirror, albeit a slightly warped one. Her opponent had long blue/black hair running down to the middle of her back. She was wearing the standard 'bathing suit' costume favored by most superheroines, it was light purple and left the outer and inner curves of her breasts exposed, dark blue straps started just beneath her breasts, spreading up and out over her chest, shoulders and over her back, where it formed a cape which ran down to her calves.
Two smaller inner strips of darker purple ran over her breasts under the cape, moving down to a point under her belt buckle, then spreading out again over her crotch. Her boots were dark purple and thigh high, with a gold, metal trim on her right calf. Her dark purple gloves ran up to halfway over her biceps.
She wore an almost exact duplicate of the eyemask Huntress was wearing, but with long horns coming up over her hair. Most of her forehead was covered, as were some of her cheeks, but in general her nose, ears and mouth, forehead and cheeks were exposed, as well as much of the skin around her eyes.
She wore a yellow belt with a golden buckle that had a batlike symbol almost exactly like Huntress', with smaller pouches and a rope on her right hip and a large pouch on her left thigh. She held a small golden crossbow, pointed directly at Huntress, an arrow set into it. It was the same type as Huntress' own crossbow, which she was wishing she had on her right now.
"Who are you?" asked her assailant.
"I could ask you the same question," replied Huntress angrily, "You wanna put down that crossbow?"
The woman lifted the crossbow a little higher and put a little more tension on the trigger.
"I don't like repeating myself," she said, "Who are you?"
"If you think I'm going to tell you my secret identity, you can forget it," spat Huntress, "Huntress is all you'll get from me."
"That's what I thought," grumbled her opponent, "Listen lady, Gotham's only big enough for one Huntress, and it's a dangerous job, not for amateurs."
"Amateurs? You want to be Huntress? Why not pick another identity if you want to throw yourself into the superhero game?"
Her opponent seemed almost confused.
"Game? Another name? You don't seem to understand, darling, I AM The Huntress, and I don't take too kindly to people copying me."
"You're The Huntress?" asked The Huntress, herself confused, "Look, not that the name really matters as much as the deeds, but I'm The Huntress, the name is taken, you can't just show up and decide to be Huntress and for me to just up and leave."
"You're getting close to trying my patience too far, imposter," replied the other so-called Huntress, "Now stand up!"
Huntress stood up, just waiting for an opening, a chance to get at her namesake. They were currently standing about 30 feet apart, and Huntress knew that she could probably get to her opponent before she pulled the trigger of the arrow, but only probably. Anything less than 21 feet would be a cinch, since the fastest human reaction would still be too slow to stop her, but she also had an idea that her opponent was keeping the distance for just that reason, and that once the arrow fired, Huntress' own reactions--as fast as they were--wouldn't be fast enough to dodge it.
"Okay," said her captor, "Take your costume off."
Huntress just stood where she was, positive that she hadn't heard what she'd just heard.
"TAKE IT OFF!" snapped the other Huntress again.
"What? You want me to take my costume off?"
"It's a rip-off of my costume," said her captor, "And you don't deserve to wear it, you have to earn it, not just make up a cheap knock off, now take it off!"
Lying on the ground a few feet from her, Kurt let out a loud groan and the other Huntress shifted her eyes just the slightest fraction. Huntress dove behind one of the piles of shifted debris and rubble.
The arrow hit the pile a second later, but by then Huntress was already moving, knowing how good her opponent was now and wanting to make tracks, get to an area she knew well, make the advantage hers.
And the other Huntress was already following.
Gotham City, 11:00 AM
Dinah tried to keep herself calm, tried not to let herself get excited.
"It's just a movie and a coffee afterwards," she said to herself, trying to keep the smile from her face and spring from her steps, "It's not like it's a date or anything."
She'd broken up with Oliver Queen, aka The Green Arrow, and done it with some finality, but she'd always somehow expected in the back of her head that they'd get back together, as they'd always done. But then he had died, and she'd realized he would never be back, never come back into her life and make her feel loved.
For so long she'd been miserable, she'd stopped even attempting to socialize until she'd teamed up with Oracle as one part of the Birds Of Prey.
She pulled on a tight pair of jeans and wondered if they were maybe too tight, then laughed.
For the first time in a very, very long time, she had a date!
Gotham City, 11:04 AM
To avoid injury to the public, she'd picked another abandoned area of Gotham marked for demolition. This was one of the business districts, and she'd been through it since the earthquake, picking out the weak spots.
Confident that she could turn the tables on her so-called namesake, Huntress made her way to the tallest building, waiting on top of it, several different escape routes already picked out.
Soon her opponent came scrambling up over the lip of the building, moving quickly and gracefully, with no sign of breathlessness. She was certainly more than just acrobatic, it looked as if she'd worked on all aspects of fitness, as Huntress herself had done after being pulled from underneath the bodies of dead relatives and vowing to stop crime in a different way than she'd envisioned as a child, not as a lawyer but as a Huntress.
"Last chance," said her opponent, "Take the costume off."
"What is it with you, some kind of weird sexual thing?" asked Huntress, hoping to get a rise from her capable opponent and cause her to make a mistake.
"In case you hadn't noticed," replied the other Huntress, "I'm a woman."
Cool as a cucumber, Huntress noted.
The second Huntress lifted her crossbow again, but this time Huntress was prepared and flicked a small stone at her opponent, striking her wrist and causing her to drop the crossbow. She reached for it but Huntress was already diving forward, she'd positioned herself 21 feet from her opponent.
The other woman kicked the crossbow away and somersaulted sideways, easily moving out of range of Huntress' attacks. The dark lady of the night came after her, swinging and chopping with dangerous martial arts moves which would incapacitate on contact.
But her opponent easily dodged, stepping almost effortlessly aside, dodging Huntress' blows as easily as The Huntress had dodged Kurt's clumsy swings earlier.
She moves like Batman! thought Huntress in shock, and felt a momentary panic that the Dark Knight had been training someone else to take her place and had sent her to get rid of her. She instantly dismissed the thought, Batman wasn't the type to play that kind of underhanded trick, he was a straight shooter.
Reaching into a pouch at her side, the 2nd Huntress pulled out what looked like a purple batarang and slashed it easily along Huntress' shoulder, cutting away the black material but leaving the skin untouched.
"Wha!" cried Huntress and moved back, but her opponent followed her with an almost inhuman speed and made several more swipes, easily cutting through the tough material of Huntress' costume.
Her top peeled away over her breasts, exposing the black sports bra beneath.
"You sick..." she started, then turned and ran, breaking for her first exit point. She dove straight over the ledge of the 40-story building, hoping that her opponent would never follow such a psychotic move.
But she did, diving right after the fleeing Huntress and firing her own cable in exactly the same direction as Huntress was shooting hers.
She can't know my escape routes! Huntress thought with a panic, then put aside such thoughts and swung through the broken window of the thirtieth floor of the building.
She hit the ground running and charged forward across the still stable parts of floor in what used to be one of the biggest software manufacturers in Gotham City. Her opponent landed through the window but this time hesitated, then followed more slowly, feeling out her steps for weak points in the floor.
HA! thought Huntress, She's not perfect, she doesn't know everything!
She moved down the corridor and slid through into one of the offices, sliding through the huge hole in the floor and gripping onto the exposed rafter in the roof of the floor below. Although the drop was only a couple of feet, she moved by her hands across the rafter, coming to a point where the roof above her was still fairly solid due to a large chunk of wood propping it in place. She'd cased this out while fighting several flying supervillians in the aftermath of the earthquake, when Gotham had been a hell on Earth, finding traps to use again the bad guys.
Listening carefully, she sensed more than heard the vibrations of her opponent above, and when she was in the right place, Huntress smacked the chunk of wood aside, removing all support from the floor.
The 2nd Huntress fell through the floor, a look of almost stupid surprise on her face as she saw her opponent's triumphant face, then she hit the floor and continued through it, crashing into the floor below with a loud crash.
Huntress swung down onto the floor, then moved quickly through the hole made by her opponent's falling body and landed next to her namesake. Before she could get up, Huntress smashed her fist into her face, knocking her back. She dropped down on top of her and held her down, feeling the adrenaline pumping through her body. This was a problem of hers, she tended to have trouble getting the adrenaline flow to her body to stop when a case was over.
"So you're The Huntress, huh?" she asked, staring down at her angry, but helpless, opponent's face, "Well you just got your ass handed to you on a stick by, guess who, The Huntress!"
"It's my costume!" growled her former captor, now captive, "Take it off, it's mine!!!!"
Her voice was becoming raspy, hoarser as if she truly felt that the costume was hers.
"You already wrecked mine, you freak!" snapped Huntress, staring down at her own visible cleavage in the black sports bra, "I guess one good turn deserves another."
She ripped the cape's buckle away, then grabbed the inner lines of the triangle running down over her breasts and tore it away, she wore no bra underneath.
"Horny little bitch!" she laughed, squirming her hips slightly, feeling slightly... uncomfortable, between her legs, "No bra, huh?"
"Sicko!" snapped the 2nd Huntress, struggling underneath The Huntress.
"Just a little tit for tat, or tits for tat I guess you'd say," laughed Huntress, she leaned down so that she would say next had extra emphasis, and her own breasts pressed against her namesakes, it felt strangely...good, "I'm the only Huntress in this town, darling."
The 2nd Huntress head-butted her, hard, making her jerk back in shock. Before she knew it she was being rolled over, and now the other Huntress was on top of her.
"Huh? Wha?" she moaned, unsure how this chain of events had occurred.
Her sports bra was ripped open, exposing her breasts, and the other Huntress began cutting away her uniform with the batarang like object, cutting her uniform into small scraps that fell away from her.
"ITS...MY...COSTUME!!!" roared the woman, filled with indignant fury.
And to Huntress' shock, she felt a growing warmness between her legs and a growing stiffness in her nipples. Could she be possibly enjoying this? Or was it just a leftover response of her high adrenaline levels, which had left her in a highly excited state, couple with close physical proximity to another flesh and blood human being.
"You filthy degenerate!" cried the other Huntress as she tore away the purple crotch lining and found it to be dripping wet, "You're enjoying this!"
But her own breath was coming faster and faster now, her breasts rising and falling, she was running her crotch up and down Huntress' legs much more than she had to.
"Look at you," snapped the 2nd Huntress, and reached down with a finger and slid it through her shaven vaginal lips.
Huntress bit her lower lip down hard and tried not to let the shock of pleasure running through her body be too apparent, but the huge building pressure in her lap was too much and suddenly she exploded, orgasming completely unexpectedly.
The 2nd Huntress stared in wide-eyed shock as the woman beneath her came, her hips bucking up and down. juices running out over her cuntlips and pooled down between her asscheeks.
"You... uh... you sick little…" moaned the other Huntress, her eyes closing as she felt little hot flushes buzz through her body. Why was she feeling like this, this was strange, how could another woman turn her on.
She came as well, darkening the crotch of her costume as her juices flowed out from her vagina. She stared in shock at her treacherous lap, then stared down with wide, lust-filled eyes at her namesake, who looked back at her with equal desire.
All thoughts of identity, battle or superiority vanished in a sudden lustful haze of desire, and the two women locked together, kissing passionately.
Their breasts pressed firmly against each other and the two women rubbed their bodies against each other, the 2nd Huntress rubbing her cunt against Huntress' stomach.
The second Huntress broke away suddenly and pushed Huntress down onto her back. Before the first Huntress could react, her namesake began to lick and kiss her way up her body, running her tongue up her long, firm legs, letting her slightly smaller, firm breasts slide up along Huntress' abdomen, belly, her own breasts. She knelt over the woman she claimed had stolen her codename and pressed her breasts against hers, rubbing them back and forth, then from side to side, the firm but malleable tit-flesh rolling and mashing together against each other, making both women moan loudly in pleasure.
Neither had ever had sex with another woman before, although The Huntress knew of it and had considered it before.
They kissed again, and when the second Huntress pulled away she moaned out, almost in a last ditch effort to prove herself, "I'm The Huntress."
"Fine," moaned Huntress, all other considerations forgotten in her desire, "Just call me Helena."
The 2nd Huntress stared at her suspiciously for a second, then her loins seemed to spike with even more pleasure and they kissed again, Huntress and Helena.
She slid down again, grasping Helena's tits in her hands and squeezing them up with more passion than before. She opened her mouth wide and sucked one nipple into her mouth, sucking and licking at it in a way no man had ever done to her. She chewed and sucked, nibbling on the erect nipple as Helena moaned and writhed about on the dusty, unstable ground, which was creaking and moaning.
Her breasts felt so hot, so hard that she was felt like they were going to explode, her nipples stinging with hot, intense pleasure as the woman who had taken her name sucked at her nipples and felt up her breasts.
The Huntress mashed Helena's fat breasts together, biting and chewing on first one, then another, her fingers clinging tightly to the soft, olive-skinned flesh.
The woman rubbed and ground her body against Helena's, rolling her breasts into Helena's lower chest and upper belly, sliding her right leg over and between Helena's thighs, rubbing it up and down against her gushing cunt.
Helena moaned and breathed heavily as her body became more and more aroused. How she had gone from fighting this strange woman to fucking her was beyond her, but she didn't care, she was enjoying herself too much.
Huntress pulled back from the woman beneath her, sitting herself down between Helena's outstretched legs and taking some time to catch her breath, then she leaned forward and peered closely at the other woman's open cunt, looking closely for the first time at another woman's vagina.
She lightly caressed the heroine's trembling thighs, doing everything that she herself enjoyed while masturbating, then slid her thumbs into the soft, shaven, tight pussy cleft and gently peeled the women's lips open. She pulled it wider and wider, making Helena moan loudly as more and more of her cunt opened like a flower, showing more and more of the glistening pink-flesh inside.
Huntress licked her lips with a hunger she'd never had before, then leaned in and let her tongue slid up and down the pink flesh. She had had her own pussy eaten out a time or two before, and concentrated on those bits she'd enjoyed, trying to be a bit more subtle and delicate than the broad, eager strokes of the man who'd introduced her to oral sex.
She pressed her tongue against the other woman's hole and wriggled it up into the tight, spasming hole of Helena's snatch. She twisted and moved her head around over her unexpected lover's fuck hole, scooping out hot, juicy fuck-cream, slurping up the warm cuntjuice from the sexy heroine's cunt.
She pumped her tongue up and down in Helena's cunt, the heroine moaned and humping up against the other superheroine's mouth. Helena slid her hands down into the woman's black hair and pushed her down instinctively, pushing her hips up at the same time to get more tongue up into her fuckhole.
Helena let out a gasp of pleasure as her namesake's tongue suddenly ran up over her clit, then deftly back down. She felt the tongue running skillfully over her hot, erect little lovebutton, felt her lips closing around it and sucking on her clit for all she was worth.
The intense lust driving up from her cunt drove her wild, and she slammed her cunt up harder and harder against The Huntress' face, which was now coated in hot cuntjuices. The feeling grew and grew, centered in her cunt but running through her whole body, it seemed like a towering wave of all-encompassing orgasmic pleasure, and when it finally crashed down over her it seemed to wipe out her entire body.
She cried out in temporarily sated passion, her back arching and ass bouncing off the creaking, dusty floor as her cunt shot out stream after stream of hot pussy juices.
Huntress' tongue seemed trapped in the crushing cuntlips of Helena, and in desperation she reached up with her finger and slid them up into the other woman's orgasming cunt, which drove her even further over the edge. Huntress took the cue and began to quickly pump three fingers in and out, making the sweaty, jerking and excited woman beneath her scream out in climactic pleasure.
She finally calmed down enough so that her body was only giving little involuntary jerks and her chest was rising and falling high and low, trying to get her breath back, her cunt spasming around Huntress' fingers.
The heroine smiled and slid herself back up Helena's body, causing a stream of shocked pleasure to buzz through her sensitive body. She pressed her breasts against Helena's and stared down into the other woman's face, who looked up both wearily and warily until Huntress smiled and slid a hand below her namesake's head and lifted it up, kissing her with a lovers passion.
Her lips slid softly over Helena's as her tongue probed against her lips, sliding inside the beautiful heroine's mouth, their lips mashing together.
Helena responded instantly, their lips caressing each other in a warm, loving touch. The Huntress gently stroked down Helena's side, moving over her flank, her hips, up over her waist and gently across her breasts.
They hugged each other close, and rolled over, so that now Helena was on top of The Huntress, looking down into her face.
"Who are you?" she whispered, "Really?"
"The Huntress," replied The Huntress, "Is your name really Helena?"
"Yes," replied Helena, although after her orgasm she was wondering if perhaps she shouldn't have revealed that little bit of information.
"Funny," laughed The Huntress, for reasons all her own, then she forget about the conversation and kissed Helena again, only this time the other woman was in the dominant position.
When they broke the kiss, Huntress lay breathlessly on her back and watched as Helena moved herself down the heroine's body and took the nipple of her breast into her mouth. She sucked lightly on it, inexperienced but enthusiastic and with the knowledge only a woman could have.
The woman who had temporarily given up her codename to this stranger suck and licked on this new Huntress' nipples, squeezing her firm, milky white breasts together. She teasingly pinched the stiff nipples, making the heroine gasp out in pleasure, then pulled them up and then let them snap back. She chewed and nibbled softly on the white mam-meat, gnawing at the sensitive flesh of the heroines breasts, making her moan and writhe beneath her.
With a loud, feverish moan of desire, The Huntress grabbed Helena's hand and shoved it between her own legs with a desperation born of mad desire, she pushed Helena's hand up and down until the Italian-American got the idea and began working her hand between the heroines legs more naturally, working the sweaty, sexy heroine into a lather.
"Oh!" she cried out, "Oh yes! Ohhh!!!!!"
Helena rubbed her fingers along The Huntress' cuntmound, sliding her fingers between the other woman's legs, making her entire body jerk and twitch like she was a marionette. The heroic young woman was already approaching orgasm, and her jerking, shaking body held Helena's attention with rapt fascination. She couldn't look away, and the site of the other woman getting so turned on was once again making her more and more aroused, ready for an orgasm of her own. She quickly slid her spare hand, which had been massaging the other woman's breasts, between her own legs and started pumping and fucking her fingers into her own soppy cunt.
Helena was somewhat inexperienced, but she knew what she liked when she masturbated, and tried to mimic those motions her, stroking her fingers quickly through the cunt slit, pressing her knuckles and digits into the heroine's clit, rubbing it, masturbating another woman and driving them both to orgasm.
The Huntress cried out with passion fulfilled, her juices flooding out over Helena's hands, her clit grinding hard up into the palm of her lover's hands, then finally dropping down.
"You came already?" Helena moaned, still jacking herself off, a little less prone to cumming so soon after her first orgasm.
"Yes," moaned The Huntress, a sexy sight in only boots and her mask, "So good."
She ran her hands up over her body, caressing her own breasts and sides, sliding her hands up Helena's body and sending tingles of sexual passion throughout them both.
Helena grinned at her lover, and lowered herself down so her mouth was breathing softly on The Huntress' flat belly. Then she lightly tongued at the other woman's belly button, then eased herself lower still, her eyes gazing directly into the parted, glistening slit of the young woman.
She pried the cuntlips even further over, staring in fascination at the revealed pink flesh, feeling her own pussy get hotter and tighter around the squirming fingers of her other hand.
She began to run her tongue up and down over the pink flesh, at first gently, but in her excitement becoming more and more frenzied, sucking and kissing at the erect clitoris, pushing her tongue between the shaven cuntlips. The fingers that had held The Huntress' cuntlips open now slid their way between them, squeezing into the tightly clasping fuckhole of the beautiful woman, first one, then two, then three before she began to saw them in and out as she sucked greedily on the hot woman's clitoris.
The Huntress whine and whimpered in pleasure, grinding her ass into the shifting, groaning floor, bucking her hips up and down as she once again became exciting. Helena's only reaction was to double her efforts, slurping, licking and sucking on her unexpected lover's clitoris and fucking her fingers in and out of both theirs gushing cunts.
Her own pussy was screaming for something more than the three fingers currently jamming their way in and out of her, so with her skilled, athletic grace, Helena Bertinelli swung her way around, planting her own pussy above The Huntress' without missing a stroke of her tongue over the other woman's lovebutton.
She grinned happily as The Huntress gripped onto her firm little ass-cheeks and began to lick at her snatch. She responded in kind, licking at her lover's pussy, greedily sucking at the flowing juices, making animalistic grunts and moans of pleasure.
She rubbed her face into The Huntress' pussy, even in her own mind calling the stranger that now. She pressed against the pink folds of flesh with her chin, pushing her nose into the opening as her lips buzzed and vibrated against her lover's clit and cuntlips, driving the other woman wild with passion. She jammed her tongue hard up into the tight little fuck-hole, tasting another woman's juices for the first time and loving it.
The Huntress had her face buried up into Helena's steaming cunt and was doing her best to keep up with the other woman. They both came at roughly the same time, in her case, Helena's juices flowed straight down her throat, while Helena eagerly gobbled up all of the Huntress' flowing cunt-cream that she could.
Their bodies, honed by years of hard training and exercise, finally began to tire, and soon even their great passion was sated. Helena lay in an exhausted heap on top of The Huntress, her face buried in the other woman's cunt, her own pussy pressing against the heroine's chin.
Finally, she managed to roll off and make her way up so that she was face to face with her lover. They rolled into each other's arms and softly stroked each others bodies, sending post orgasmic thrills through the others body as they gently kissed, tasting each others juices on their lips.
**
"Excellent," said the man standing in the shadows, directly over a hole in the ground. He held a strange metallic sphere in his hand which a certain cat-burglar would have found very familiar, except for the glowing pink rod sitting in a hole at it's apex.
He didn't seem to be heard by either of the two identically named heroines, or they did not react to him in any case.
"A perfect field run," he chuckled, and his face settled back into the shadows, eventually disappearing from view entirely... he was gone.
**
"WHAT...." started Helena, shock coming onto her face as she stared directly into the eyes of the other woman, only inches from her own.
"...THE FUCK!" finished The Huntress, and then the two women were scrambling away from each other.
"SICK BITCH!" screamed The Huntress, and launched a furious attack at Helena, which she barely dodged in time. In these close quarters her opponent couldn't dance away as easily--plus she was still physically exhausted--and Helena managed to close with her naked opponent, dropping her to the floor.
The Huntress rolled away with an expert's ease, making Helena wonder once more where she had come from, and how she had gotten so good, although not so good as to avoid Helena raking her across the back as she rolled away, breaking the skin and drawing blood.
"I don't know what kind of perverted mind ray you used on me..." growled the 2nd Huntress, "But...."
"ME!" cried The Huntress, thinking of herself in that way again, and thinking of this other woman as an imposter, "You must have done something to me, I'm not a lesbian!"
"I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT A LESBIAN IS!" screamed the other Huntress.
"Then why are you so sure what I was talking about!" retorted The Huntress quickly.
The 2nd Huntress stared at her with unreadable eyes, then scooped up tattered pieces of her costume.
"Where do you think you're going?" asked The Huntress, picking up what was left of her costume. When she looked up, her opponent was gone.
"Hmmm," muttered Helena Bertinelli,"Just like Batman."
She examined some of the blood and skin under her fingernails and smiled, then fished a small communicator out of one of the pouches on her belt.
"Oracle? I need you to do a DNA scan for me..."
Gotham City, 6:15 PM
"Dinah," said Dominic with a smile, standing up.
She was oddly touched by the courtesy, especially since they were in a plain cafe and were both dressed casually (although she'd agonized for hours over what to wear). She smiled at him and felt a moment's panic that he would either try to kiss her or, worse yet, not try to. Her panic faded moments later when he gave her a light peck on the cheek and then motioned for her to sit.
"The movie starts in about half an hour," he said, "Would you like to get something to eat?"
"I'm fine," she replied, not wanting to tell him that she had such terrible nervous butterflies that she wouldn't be able to keep anything down.
"Cool," he said, "I'm not hungry either."
They sat silently for a few moments, which was strangely enough not uncomfortable, then both tried to speak at the same time, they stopped, laughed, and then she told him to go ahead.
"I was going to say," he said, "That since you insisted on buying your own ticket and we're not eating, this is going to be a very cheap date."
She giggled.
"Marry me," he said with a smile, and they both laughed.
Metropolis, Star Labs, 7:00 PM
"Well, she's not a clone, she's not an alien, as far as I can tell, she is a healthy young human female," said Professor Hamilton to Kyle.
"What's this all about, Kyle?" Carol asked, standing in the middle of several roving energy screens which were mapping her DNA and checking for any inconsistencies that would reveal any non-human origins. She was dressed in a hospital gown with nothing else on, and was getting cold in the cool confines of the laboratory.
"Uhhh, I'm not sure," Kyle replied, scratching the back of his head. He turned back to Professor Hamilton, "Maybe she's from one of them, uh, alternate dimensions?"
Professor Hamilton chuckled, "You've been watching a bit too much Star Trek, Kyle, because outside of that and comic books, there has never been any definitive proof discovered of the existence of alternate dimensions."
"Well, you want to explain why a woman who I never met before and has strong links to my predecessor showed up in my bed this morning with memories of a long-term relationship with me?" asked Kyle.
"Waking up with a strange women who claims to have a relationship?" mused Hamilton, "When I was young, that happened to me a time or three."
One of his assistants chuckled dutifully, while Kyle remained unimpressed.
"Kyle," moaned Carol, "Can't we... ow!"
She clutched at her stomach, a look of pain crossing her face.
"Professor," murmured the assistant, "Her DNA is... it's shifting."
"What?" asked Hamilton, "That shouldn't be happening."
"Kyle!" cried Carol, "It hurts!"
"This is remarkable," muttered Hamilton, "Her DNA seems to be mutating, the double helix breaking up and re-linking in a different pattern."
"Well don't just stand there admiring it, do something!" cried Kyle.
Carol's face suddenly shot up, her eyes wide and blazing with a strange purple glow. Before their eyes, her nightgown was blown away in little scraps by a blinding purple light, and the three men were knocked back onto their asses.
Kyle sat up almost immediately, looking straight ahead to see if Carol was still there or had somehow spontaneously combusted, which, he had to admit, would make his life a little easier.
"No such luck," he muttered when he saw what had happened to Carol.
The woman before him still had the same face and the same long, blue-black hair, but now she wore a conical headpiece which covered her forehead, running down the side of her face to large circular locks on either side of her face, attaching the headpiece to the neckpiece of her costume. The nightgown had been replaced by a metal breastplate which ran down to a bikini-like bottom, leaving all of her long, toned legs exposed. Her metal breastplate was encircled by a belt of white metal with a four ended star set as the buckle.
Purple boots made of metal ran up to her thighs, where they ended in folded-down hoops of purple metal. Her full-length purple gloves ran right up to her shoulders, with large elbow guards and large, folded down hoops of purple metal at the top of her gloves, similar to those on her boots.
Her headpiece contained a large purple gem, this was the so-called 'star sapphire' which gave her her powers, and right now it smoked with a dangerous looking purple light.
The headpiece was a purplish-pink in color, as was the breastplate, while the boots and gloves were a darker purple.
Kyle's eye--as a commercial artist--took that all in within a second, then he was dodging a dangerous blast of purple light which smashed into the ground where he'd been a second earlier.
"Hey! Carol! Carol, chill!" cried Kyle, holding up his arms.
"CAROL!?!" screamed Star Sapphire, her face contorted in disgust at the mention of her alter-ego, "I AM NOT CAROL FERRIS! SHE IS A WEAKLING!"
"O-kay," replied Kyle, noting with satisfaction that Professor Hamilton and his assistant were crawling out of the lab quickly, he'd hoped to buy them some time.
"Where is Jordan!" screeched Star Sapphire, who obviously didn't share her other half's belief that she and Kyle were an item.
"Long gone, lady," replied Kyle, approaching slowly, both his hands held out carefully in front of him, "How about you? I thought you were long gone too? Something to do with some guy called Predator...?"
He dodged another blast of powerful purple light, leaving another smoking hole in the linoleum floor of the laboratory. So far he hadn't used his ring, he was hoping to resolve the situation without resorting to violence.
"Don't speak his name, whelp!" screeched Star Sapphire, seemingly enraged at the mention of her 'male' version, who had impregnated her, then been destroyed (along with Star Sapphire evidently) by Neron, Lord Of The Underworld.
"I'm just looking for a little clarification here is all," returned Kyle, "I know people tend to not stay dead in our field, but isn't this a little ridiculous?"
"I didn't come here to deal with second-stringers," growled Star Sapphire, "Now get Jordan here NOW!!"
"That's it," muttered Kyle, dodging yet another energy blast, "She shows up in my bed, ruins my whole day, then insults me! I don't have to take this!"
She fired another blast at him, and this time he raised a simple green shield of energy in front of him, designed to absorb the energy and fire it back at her feet, giving her a taste of her own medicine.
And the bolt passed straight through his energy shield, hit him in his face, and knocked him to the ground, unconscious.
"Pathetic," muttered Star Sapphire, she walked over to him and grabbed him by the hair. Another huge purple flash of light enveloped the room, and when it cleared, the lab was empty.
Gotham City, 9:30 PM
"Man that was cool!" laughed Dominic, coming out of the movie with Dinah hanging of his arm, laughing and totally uncaring about how close she was being to him.
"Ratata!" she cried, mimicking the whispered sound that had played every time the villain had appeared during the movie.
"Great movie," he said as they left the theatre, "Pity about the name."
"I kind of like it," she said with a grin, not even thinking about how close she was holding him, she felt relaxed with him, even after only knowing him for two days, "'The Phantom Menace', something kind of scary about it."
"Phantom Menace," Dominic mused to himself, a faraway look coming into his eyes, "I suppose so, you never know where the bad guys are going to come from nowadays."
And he smiled.
JLA WatchTower, The Moon, 10:00 PM
"Well, I'd hoped for a better turnout than this," Superman said, making a weak joke and knowing it before he even finished speaking. Humor had never been his strong point.
Following the reports from Star Labs of the return of Star Sapphire and the consequent disappearance of her and Green Lantern, The Man Of Steel had called an emergency meeting of The JLA.
And only six members had shown up.
Superman stared at the other five JLA'ers, The Flash, Big Barda, Plastic Man, Steel and, floating over the table in the form of a giant, holographic head, Oracle.
Green Lantern was missing, and the reason for the meeting, Aquaman had expressed regret but said that his own problems were too pressing at the moment. Martian Manhunter had also informed them that he was unable to attend, while Zauriel had said he would be there and just not shown up.
Big Barda had excused Orion, saying only that he was 'busy' and could not attend, Oracle had answered for Huntress, saying that she was unavailable due to an important investigation of her own.
Strangest of all, neither Batman or Wonder Woman had answered the call.
"What do we know about Carol Ferris, Oracle?" asked Superman, deciding to proceed with the meeting.
"Carol Ferris once ran Ferris Aircraft," replied Oracle, "She was the employer and sometimes girlfriend of Hal Jordan, who was Green Lantern before our current member.
"She was turned into Star Sapphire by the Zamarons--a race of warrior women--and was able to transform into this villain by use of a sapphire which gave her the ability to fly and project energy blasts, much like those used extensively by Green Lantern at the time. When the Zamarons left our dimension, Star Sapphire went over the edge and attempted to kill Hal, unfortunately she couldn't locate him, and so killed Katma Tui, another Green Lantern and the wife of one John Stewart, who was acting in a back-up role to Hal Jordan at the time. Eventually, the Green Lantern Corps managed to restore Carol Ferris' personality, but her Star Sapphire persona still emerged from time to time.
"The curious thing is that, while Star Sapphire retained all of Carol Ferris' memories--and actually came to despise her alter-ego--Ms. Ferris herself had no memory of her activities as Star Sapphire. This made for an interesting relationship between her and Hal Jordan, as Ms. Ferris was more interested in Green Lantern than in Hal Jordan, and didn't know they were one and the same, while Star Sapphire knew that Hal was Green Lantern and despised them both, and also knew that Hal loved Carol, even though Carol didn't."
"My head hurts," muttered Plastic Man, making his head throb appropriately.
"It gets better," muttered The Flash.
"Carol Ferris was later to discover his secret identity, as well as her own," continued Oracle, "Which was when a 'male' version of Carol appeared on the scene, named Predator. He managed to make Star Sapphire pregnant, then somehow Carol and Star Sapphire were split apart, co-existing together. When the baby was born, it was captured by Neron, and Star Sapphire and Predator were seemingly destroyed, while Carol was still around and seemingly freed from her dual existence."
"And this was on Bold And The Beautiful when?" asked Plastic Man, looking confused.
Steel frowned, "This is serious, a teammate is missing."
"Steel is right," said Superman, "Somehow Carol appeared in Green Lantern's bed this morning, passed a telepathic test from Martian Manhunter, was taken to Star Labs and passed numerous testing that proved she was Carol Ferris and no longer under the influence of the Star Sapphire, then changed into Star Sapphire and somehow overpowered Green Lantern and whisked him away."
"Okay," said Plastic Man, "What do we do about it?"
Superman paused, and found himself wondering the same thing. He'd called the meeting more as a reaction, wanting to get the JLA together, thinking that once all together they could work out a strategy to find Kyle... but half the JLA were missing, The Flash the only 'original' member from the recently reformed team present.
Lately he'd found it difficult to concentrate, for the last three days, since getting back from Gotham where he'd stopped The Joker from killing himself, he felt a little below par. At first he'd dismissed it as a slight psychosomatic reaction to his momentary exposure to kryptonite, but it hadn't gone away.
"Supes?" asked The Flash, "Any ideas?"
"I... I...." started Superman, then stopped, his eyes growing wide as he felt a growing tingling in his nose, a seeming culmination of the overall graininess he'd been feeling for the last three days.
"Superman?" asked Steel, concerned that his hero was somehow in trouble.
"What's...." started Superman, "What's goi...?"
The tingling in his nose was almost unbearable now, he couldn't take it, he could feel the pressure building, knew that something was going to break, going to break any second now...
"AH-CHOO!!!!" he sneezed, knocking the other four JLA'ers out of their chairs and to the ground, while Oracle looked on, slightly bemused.
"Wow, he even sneezes super," chuckled The Flash, getting back to his feet.
"Such power!" remarked Big Barda, admiration burning fiercely in her eyes, "Never have I been taken from my feet so easily."
"That is just too gross," muttered Plastic Man, checking for any super-snot that might have gotten on his costume, wondering how much he could get for it on the open market.
"You okay, man?" asked Steel, concerned.
"Yes," replied Superman, his eyes a little wide, then breaking into a smile, "In fact I feel quite good, better than I have in a couple of days."
"A good sneeze is always relieving," replied The Flash, "But a little warning next time, okay?"
"Sorry, I'm not too experienced at sneezing," replied Superman with a slight smile. He felt remarkable, his entire body seemed to feel a little looser, his head a little lighter.
"Listen," said The Flash, "We have detailed accounts of Star Sapphire and Green Lantern both, if Oracle can upload the appropriate information to me, I can use the Watchtower scanners to check the entire planet for their energy signatures... if they're on the planet, I'll find them."
"No problem here," said Oracle, "I certainly can't match your speed."
"Well... good," said Superman with a smile, "Just contact us the moment you find anything, and we'll get together to help Kyle out."
As The Flash sped out of the Meeting Room to the Monitor Room, Superman stared around the table, a slightly bemused look on his face.
"Um, meeting adjourned, just keep your communicators close by in case The Flash comes up with anything."
He turned and left the room almost as fast as Wally had, heading for a teleporter so he could get back to Metropolis.
"In your experience," Steel said to Plastic Man and Big Barda, "Is Superman usually so... eccentric?"
"What does it matter?" muttered Big Barda, "He has decided on a course of action, it has been taken, there is no more to be said," she stood up and left the Meeting Room.
Oracle had already cut her link to the Meeting Room, leaving Steel and Plastic Man alone.
"So you think Supes is eccentric, huh?" asked Plastic Man, having formed a triangle with his body and swinging his head by the neck on the inside of the triangle.
"Not so much anymore, no," replied Steel, and followed Big Barda out of the room.
Gotham City, 11:00 PM
Dinah stepped into Dominic's apartment with slight trepidation, wondering if she was doing the wrong thing.
They'd meant to have a cup of coffee or two, and ended up sitting in the cafe over an hour, neither of them touching their coffee, just chatting, talking, laughing. Leaving, he'd asked her if she'd like to come up to his place for coffee, and she'd agreed, thinking more along the lines that they hadn't had any coffee in the cafe.
In the elevator, which was one of the old style 'pull-down' doors that she loved, she had suddenly thought that he might be expecting sex, rather than coffee.
This was what she hated about dating, it had always plagued her in college, where her inexperience had led to her early marriage at the age of 18 to her fellow student, Craig Windrow, and their subsequent divorce after only 9 months. Then she'd become involved in a very long on-off relationship with Oliver Queen--Green Arrow--and not had to worry about such things as 'coffee' and other such uncomfortable situations.
"How do you take your coffee?" he asked her, stepping past her and moving with the ease and comfort that came from the familiarity with his surroundings, "Milk no sugar?"
"Ye... yeah," she replied, and thoughts of coffee, sex and Oliver faded from her mind as she took in his apartment. "This.... this place is magnificent!" she gasped.
"Why thank you," replied Dominic, moving into the kitchen, "I can assure you that I would never have brought you here if it wasn't for Mrs. Cunningham."
"Mrs Cunningham?" she asked, feeling a sudden surge of hate towards this slut Cunningham.
"My cleaner," he replied, "The old dear is pushing seventy and refuses to retire, thank goodness, since she's so damned good at her job."
Then he disappeared into the kitchen.
'That slut Cunningham?' she thought to herself, bemused at being so territorial about a man she'd just met.
The apartment was a wooden board loft furnished with large, expensive looking rugs both on the floor and the walls. A large, brick fireplace was set into the far wall with several logs heaped onto it, while the couch and chairs were comfortable looking and plush. The heads of several animals were mounted above the fireplace, over an equal number of mounted guns.
In the corner was a huge, widescreen television and a set of speakers were set up around the couch to give surround sound. Along one wall on the side of the apartment was a large bookcase, crammed fill with books.
Overall the apartment looked more like a large hunting lodge than an apartment, but somehow retained a homey, rustic feel.
"You're a hunter?" she called out, moving into the center of the living room.
"Oh no," he laughed from the kitchen, "My father was, I inherited this place from him. I can't stand hunting myself, I find it barbaric, but they belonged to the old man, I can hardly throw them out, and it really wouldn't do the animals any good."
She smiled, she wasn't a big fan of hunting either, she'd hardly considered tracking down a defenseless animal with a gun a sport. Oliver may have been an archer and a playboy, but he'd...
She stopped herself short, Oliver again, her thoughts always came back to Oliver.
"Coffee is served," said Dominic, entering the room holding a tray with two mugs on it. His smile faded slightly when he saw her, picking up on her mood.
"Dinah, is something wrong?" he asked her.
"No, no... I," her eyes fell to the ground, and then she collapsed backwards onto the couch.
Dominic slid onto the couch next to her, pushing the coffee hurriedly and uncaringly onto the glass coffee table. Even in her sudden fit of depression, she felt a moment of pleasure that he cared more about how she felt than an obviously expensive coffee table and even more expensive rug underneath.
"What is it, what's the matter?" he asked, sliding an arm around her shoulder.
"I shouldn't bother you with this," she sniffed, wiping an emerging tear from her eye, "I'm terrible, you don't want to hear about my problems."
"You think I'm going to throw you out on the street, Dinah?" he asked her, smiling, "Talk, you'll be surprised how much better you'll feel afterwards."
"I know this was our first date, and only the second time we've even met, but I just started thinking about relationships and emotional commitments and...." she stopped, sniffing again, "I guess what I'm trying to say is I bring a lot of baggage to a relationship."
"Dinah, everybody does," Dominic said with a smile, and wiped one of the hated tears which were emerging unbidden from her eyes, "Even people who've never gone out with anyone before bring baggage into a relationship with them, it's why we're human."
"I was involved with a man for a long time," she said, feeling a warm feeling of rightness at the feel of Dominic's arms around her shoulders, at the tenderness with which he'd wiped a tear from her eyes. "It was on again and off again, but I always knew in the back of my mind that we'd end up together again, even after I ended it with him for the last time." She hesitated, hating that she had to be careful about what she said in order to protect her secret identity. "Then he died, and I realized that that was it, he wouldn't be back, I wouldn't wake up next to him anymore or argue with him over the phone or break up with him or make up with him."
"I understand, Dinah," he said, "I've never lost a girlfriend, but I did lose my sister a few years ago, she died in a fire, and the last time I'd talked with her had been on the phone, and I'd been quite brusque with her you know. I wish that I'd been able to talk with her one last time, clear the air, but it never came out you know."
She nodded, wondering what she was doing, was she subconsciously trying to sabotage this relationship before it even got off the ground?
She must have been, because what she said next was the type of thing that would make 99.9% of all men draw back and avoid all physical contact possible.
"And a couple of years ago now, I was involved with some unpleasant people and... I was raped."
WHY! her mind screamed at her, Now he'll think you're damaged goods!
She never talked about her rape, even though she knew that she should, that it would be therapeutic. Her rapist was dead, she dealt with it with Oliver and tried to put it behind her, yet now she'd ripped the scab off the wound and brought it all back out.
And Dominic chuckled.
She stiffened slightly in his arms, but he just held her tighter, without making her feel stifled.
"And you think that makes you less appealing? Maybe that it was your fault?" he said, smiling sadly down at her, "Believe me, I know what it's like."
"How could you, you couldn't," she whispered, but looked up at him, unable to hide the hope that somehow this man would make it all better.
"I do know," he said, "Because it happened to me, years and years ago, I was raped back at the boy's school I went to by a very, very sick man. For years I blamed myself for it, didn't talk, lived in denial, and I was miserable. But over the years I confronted it, I dealt with it and I realized that I could put it behind me, that it didn't have to dictate who I was."
He lifted her chin up with one finger and kissed her lightly on the lips.
"I don't want to belittle what you've been through, Dinah, but I want you to realize that it's not extraordinary, that you can get over it and that things do get better."
She was staring up at him in rapt wonder, her eyes locked with his. They seemed to have hidden depths, they were almost hypnotic, and she was drawn further and further into them.
He kissed her again, and this time she returned it.
"Good meeting?" Lois asked as Clark walked into the bedroom.
Her husband seemed to hesitate momentarily before a wide smile split his face and he answered.
"Yes, it was actually, we got some things resolved."
Lois peered up from the bed where she sat, making some last minute changes to the article she would be handing in tomorrow, about corruption in the US Senate. It was a story that had been written about millions of times before, but with some of the little pertinent facts that she'd picked up here and there, she felt the article might cause quite a stir.
"Are you all right, Clark?" she asked him.
"Yes, haven't felt this good in days actually," he replied, loosening his tie. He had changed into suit and tie after stepping out the teleporter, then made his way back to the apartment he shared with his wife, Lois Lane, or Lois Lane-Kent when he wanted to annoy her.
He slid into bed beside her and leaned over to look at the screen off the laptop that was, appropriately enough, on her lap.
"Hey! No peeking!" she laughed, covering up the article with her hand.
"Come on, give me the scoop!" he chuckled.
"Get your own ideas, Smallville," she chuckled, then closed the file and set the laptop aside, "That's enough for the night, anyway."
"The night is just beginning," he growled at her with a smile, she laughed, then squealed as he lifted her up easily with one arm and placed her onto his lap.
"Clark I.... CLARK!" she cried, smiling, as she felt herself being lifted by something that wasn't his arms.
"What can I say," he chuckled, "You bring out the animal in me."
Dominic lowered Dinah to the bed silently, and she let him, feeling no need to assert herself, letting him dominate in his gentle, tender fashion.
He slid a hand up her side, inadvertently sliding up her shirt as he did so, as he leaned over her and kissed her again. She felt his hand running along her flank, and his fingers glided carefully along the side of her breast, over the thin material of her bra.
His every touch, his every move seemed to send a wild erotic sensation through her. But it was tender, she felt no need to sit on his lap and bounce up and down on top of him, or to spread her legs wide and screech like a banshee as he jackhammered into her. All she wanted to do was lie there and be loved by him, to feel his touch and be safe in his arms.
She lifted her arms above her head in a lazy, sensual way which was more erotic than any stripper could ever hope to mimic, allowing him to lift up her top over her breasts. Still encased in their bra, her breasts were pushed up close together, making them look bigger than they were. She wasn't a huge double D like so many of her counterparts in the superhero industry seemed to be, but had good sized C-Cup breasts which were more than a handful. Dominic certainly seemed to have no complaints, as he broke their kiss and looked momentarily down over her body, then back to her face.
"You're so beautiful," he said, and stroked aside a lock of her bleached blonde hair, "So very beautiful."
As they kissed again, his hand came up and cupped one breast, but he didn't maul it or roughly grab it, but instead gently traced over the material covering her nipples, moving around and over them, sending a muted thrill of pleasure through her chest.
His other hand had been combed through her hair, holding the back of her head, but now it slowly slid down past her neck, her other breast, her side and hip. His hand slid over the denim material covering her thigh and pressed between her legs, and even though she still wore her jeans, they were so tight and his hand so skilled that she could almost feel each individual stroke and twist of his fingers.
He's so sensitive, she thought happily as they kissed, their tongues intertwined, one hand cupping her breast, the other between her legs. His touch was compelling, made her aroused, but wasn't insistent, she knew that anytime she told him to stop, he would.
And she didn't want him to.
They'd met twice, gone out once on a date that was more a friendly night out, and then she'd revealed her innermost feelings to him and was now lying on his bed, getting willingly felt up and prepared to have sex with him.
To Be Continued…