“Careful with that stuff, damn,” snapped Pibbsy as Flipper dumped the box of ingredients down on the table.
“Stop being a bitch,” Flipper replied, “You want these things delivered careful do it your own self.”
“I want these things delivered careful because they are the constituent elements of high explosives and…” he peered at one of the labels on one of the stolen glass jars, “Nerve gas.”
“You got your mask don’t you?” Flipper retorted, flicking the eyepiece of Flipper’s heavy duty gas mask, “And we all got these stupid suits.” He tugged at the multi-coloured plastic of his thick hazmat suit, “So why are you worried?”
Pibbsy tried to think of a reply to the idea that their hazmat suits and gas masks would protect them in the event of a high explosives and nerve gas stupidity induced chain reaction. His brain couldn’t come up with one, struggling to get down to that level of idiocy. Eventually he found the answer he was looking for.
“If you blow up the lab knucklehead, the Joker is going to be pissed.”
Flipper didn’t like the sound of that. The next box of ingredients was delivered with more care than a fart in a cathedral.
Outside the lab Lulu was patrolling the perimeter. She didn’t see much point in patrolling. Partly because the local hoods all knew better than to mess with Joker’s lab, and partly because the fact that she was patrolling in a gas mask and brightly coloured hazmat suit might be considered a giveaway for local law enforcement that the Joker had a lab nearby. Assuming local law enforcement ever set foot in this part of the city. Left up to her there’d be no patrols, but Pibbsy ran a tight ship. He had to; if you didn’t run a tight ship Mr J was likely to throw you overboard.
Lulu peered around in the moonlight, her vision narrowed by her neon pink gas mask. This part of Gotham had used to be home to all sorts of chemical factories back when the city thrived. Even if the Joker wasn’t cooking up some sort of toxic master plan nearby in Pibbsy’s lab she’d probably be well advised not to breathe the air or touch anything. At the very least one of the area’s many rats probably peed on it. She carried a baseball bat wrapped in razor wire for that eventuality. Both the contents of the lab and the clumsiness of the hazmat gloves precluded the use of firearms here. She was scared of the rats around here. They reminded her of the bats.
At least she was safe out here though. The chemical spills, explosives, poison, cops and who knew what else were nothing compared to Harley’s jealousy. If you were a pretty girl in Joker’s gang you put as much distance between yourself and Harley as you could. She’d make up a reason to get jealous even if you never went near the Joker and once she had the idea you were a threat she’d make real trouble for you. Kind of trouble a sledgehammer can make for a soft boiled egg. In the sticks, on this assignment, she was safe. Even on the couple of occasions Mr J and Harley had been around she’d managed to stay out of the way and fit in with the guys at a glance by wearing one of the spare suits that was very baggy on her. With Harley out of sight she’d reverted to her usual suit. This one was tighter and clung to her curves, which she knew that Pibbsy definitely liked. Pibbsy might be a science dork but Lulu could see he had potential, he could be useful. The Joker always liked to have science dorks around, somebody had to put his crazy ideas into practice.
On the roof of the lab Mungo stood watch. If Pibbsy was the brains of this operation then Mungo was the guy the brain didn’t trust to be in contact with any part of the operation at all, ever, even when they were shorthanded. Mungo was big and clumsy and could never get anything right, like a bulldozer in a Chinese restaurant. He carried a fire axe wielded it as deftly as a drunken monkey. Just because Pibbsy didn’t trust Mungo to be within a hundred feet of anything more fragile than a concrete block didn’t mean Pibbsy didn’t like him though. As such Pibbsy had customised Mungo’s gas mask so that, should he choose it to, the exhaled air could make noises like a big whoopee cushion. This made Mungo happy, a happy Mungo was a loyal Mungo and a loyal Mungo was a force of nature.
Lemmy, the final sentry on guard that night, was going to sleep. It was not his fault. It wasn’t because he was lazy and it wasn’t because he was overworked. Instead it was because his neck was being squeezed very hard between the thighs of Batwoman. He had thought he’d heard a sound along his route and had gone to investigate, only to have her drop onto his shoulders from above. He’d stayed tall despite the sudden extra weight, but in spite of keeping his feet he found himself with no particular plan. Trying to move forward or backwards had revealed that his assailant was hanging onto something above, so that she was able to keep him trapped in one place. The narrow corridor meant that the plank of wood with a nail through it which he had seen fit to arm himself with was ineffective.
He dropped the plank and grabbed at her legs, trying to pry her free, but she just squeezed harder, twisting her hips rhythmically to create the impression that she might be about to snap his neck. This caused him to panic, his mask fogging up as he tried to call for help, the sound muffled completely. He tried to run, scrabbling with his feet, but all he achieved was to lose his footing.
Deciding to end the game Batwoman pulled him upward with her legs, lifting him up off the ground as he thrashed wildly. He wasn’t as heavy as he looked, the suit was bulky and ill-fitting and he dangled easily below her as she patiently waited for him to go to sleep. He held out as long as he could, aided by the mask which was too rigid to allow Batwoman to properly squeeze him, but he was soon limp. She gave him a final little shake between her thighs and then dropped him onto the ground.
She landed neatly on top of him, her boots on his chest driving the last air out of him, letting him break her fall, figuring that, as gentlemanly as the Joker’s goons all were, it’s what he would have wanted to do for her. She then dragged him away out of sight. While he slept she bound his ankles and wrists with simple disposable cuffs before lifting up his mask to apply a simple tape gag.
As she finished gagging him he started to slowly regain his senses, looking up at her blearily as she smoothed the tape over his mouth. At first he didn’t recognise her in the semi darkness. Batwoman had opted for a version of her costume more suited to this part of town, her suit replaced with latex rubber to keep out the chemicals, the cowl augmented by a small transparent gas mask over her mouth and nose. Realising as he looked at her that he had lost his own mask, he panicked, trying to roll away, but she was having none of it. She smiled and a squeezed his nose shut between her fingers and thumb, nipping his little recovery in the bud. He thrashed around for a few seconds but before too long his eyes had rolled back in his head. Once he was out she put his mask back on him. She left him on the ground, deciding that the gag combined with his mask would enough to keep him quiet for the time being. She didn’t intend to hang around for long.
Flipper went to the van feeling annoyed. This was a less than crumby detail. This was the job that people who already had crumby jobs were glad they didn’t have. He’d thought working with explosives and gas would be great fun, but all he was doing was humping them around, not even blowing shit up. He could have stayed bussing tables. He didn’t get tips here.
He opened the back doors and leaned inside looking for the next box of supplies that he was supposed to bring in. There was a flashlight near the door which he picked up and switched on to help him find what he was looking for. Finally, amid the assorted bizarre paraphernalia of a Joker crew van, he found the box he was looking for. And then he got hit on the back of the head.
The blow didn’t knock him out, but it hurt like hell and pitched him forward into the van. His head swam momentarily and he dropped the torch, holding his head with both hands against the sharp pain. Behind him Batwoman frowned, she’d hit this mook hard on the back of the skull with a solid elbow strike, she hadn’t been trying to kill him or anything but she’d expected it to put him out. He must have had a thicker skull than she’d expected. She ruled out striking him in the head again, she couldn’t get a clean shot on him now, but since he was distracted she figured she could try a different approach.
Moving up close behind him she pushed him forward, so that his legs were pinned against the rear of the van and his torso was bent over into the vehicle. From this position she slid one hand down the front of his hazmat suit, finding the point where the top half was pulled over the waistband of the pants. Flipper was still reeling from the blow to the head and before he knew what was happening Batwoman’s hand had snaked up under the top of his suit, then down under the waistband of his pants. Before he even knew what was happening he felt her cool rubber gloved hand cup around his balls.
Realising that his predicament had suddenly taken a turn for the potentially even more painful he stopped thrashing, still with his hands on his head, but passive. Even his most simple animal instinct told him not to antagonise anybody who had a hold of his junk like that. He had no idea who it might be either, if it had been Lulu, why hit him so damn hard in the first place? Was it Catwoman? Even the thought that it might be her caused an embarrassing twitch. He couldn’t feel claws though. He looked down, in the torchlight he could see that the glove was red. Batwoman? Well, he could do a lot worse. His cock started to stiffen as she manipulated his balls between her fingers. What was she doing to him anyway? Did this count as rape of some sort? He could feel his cock continue to stiffen in spite of his concerns, in spite of the fact the back of his head still throbbed and his legs remained pinned, he couldn’t even begin to turn around much less fight back. He wanted to cry out but knew his voice wouldn’t carry, and more to the point he didn’t want to be found like this, he’d never live it down. Joker would probably kill him.
Suddenly he realised what she was doing, she’d just been getting herself a properly good grip. He closed his eyes, he knew what was coming next. She squeezed. She twisted. She pulled and then she squeezed again, just for good measure. Flipper way conscious for part of the process, choking out what he hoped was a cry for help but was actually more of a choked sob, and he soon blacked out under the tidal wave of pain.
Batwoman kept hold of him for a few seconds longer, squeezing as hard as she could until she was sure he was out. He sagged forward and she let him fall, hefting him up into the back of the van where she bound his ankles and wrists as she had with Lemmy. Once he was out of the way she looked around in the back of the van, looking for a clue as to what this particular crew was up to. She found military plastic explosives as well as some incredibly unstable home brew stuff, she also found a few worrying looking chemicals she couldn’t quite identify and a few glass bottles of ether.
The ether solved her problem with Flipper waking up. She took one of the bottles and removed the top, spilling some on the floor of the van near where he lay and leaving the open bottle nearby. She took one of the other bottles, figuring she might find a use for it given the behemoth stomping around on the roof. Flipper was starting to move, so she yanked his gas mask free and tossed it aside before closing the doors and sneaking away. She heard a murmur of protest from Flipper as the doors closed, but he was soon overcome by the fumes. She made a note to check on him later, he probably wouldn’t last too long in there.
Mungo made a farting noise through his mask as he patrolled the roof and checked top of the stairwell for bats. He didn’t like bats. Not the little furry flapping things and not the heroes. The winged variety didn’t seem to appreciate his masks whoopee cushion noise, so he was at least able to keep one type of them away.
The second type of bat, well he ran into one of them just as soon as he left the stairwell. Batwoman was just standing there on the roof, a few yards in front of him, not even doing him the common courtesy to creep up, she had her hands by her sides, looking almost harmless. She smiled and made a kissy face at him behind her transparent mask.
He narrowed his eyes and hefted his axe, his small brain processing as hard as it could. On the one hand, it was Batwoman, everybody would probably be pleased if he hacked her apart. On the other hand, killing a hero was a huge big deal. Was he even allowed to kill one in a random rooftop brawl miles away from anywhere important? Would Joker be mad at him or happy?
She didn’t seem scared of him and she wasn’t armed, all she had in her hand was something that looked like a small red sponge. Every time he looked down at what she was armed with she’d repeat the kissing motion, almost like how a person might seek the attention of a cat. With the obvious difference that he found her glossy red lips incredibly sexy and despite not really knowing what was going on he was finding himself getting a bit turned on. There was something almost hypnotic about her lips to his simple mind. He couldn’t help but watch them. Even he knew that probably wasn’t a good thing. He felt like he was in a situation he couldn’t control, like he was falling into some sort of a trap and he had no idea what that trap was.
Mungo’s response to moments of confusion was a simple but often effective one. Attack. He raised his axe, made a farting noise through his mask and charged.
The tripwire which Batwoman had set up immediately sent him sprawling at her feet. The distance judged perfectly.
The fall knocked the wind out of him and he didn’t notice as she took a half step forward, the toe of one shiny red boot moving to pin down on the rubbery noise-maker part of his mask. He started to pick himself up, pushing himself up to his hands and knees, not realising as he did this that the rubber extension to the mask first stretched and then snapped off. Batwoman smiled, placing one hand on the back of his head to keep him down while with the other she pressed the ether-soaked sponge into the broken air vent on the mask, squeezing the strong smelling liquid into the confined space of the mask.
Mungo recognised the smell from the lab, once he’d been in there without his mask on, but he couldn’t remember what the actual substance was called. He tried to stand up but he felt funny and just the small force exerted by her hand on the top of his head was too much to overcome. He tried to lunge forward but his legs didn’t work. His head was spinning. Nothing was working. He could feel her begin to push down on top of his head and his knees and elbows began to buckle. He tried to shake her hand off the side of his mask but that didn’t work either and before he knew where he was he was face down on the roof.
Batwoman pushed the sponge as best she could into the hole in the sleeping giant’s mask and bound his wrists and ankles. She figured he wasn’t in too much danger, he was an ox, but once bound he’d be no trouble. Strong as he was he wouldn’t have the leverage to break free. Probably. She used two sets of cuffs to be on the safe side.
“Where is that clown?” Pibbsy muttered to himself, pleased with his ability to refer to Flipper in two accurate ways with the single word. All the man had to do was carry stuff from the van. Was it really so difficult? He continued to work with the supplies he had and considered asking Lulu to do the lifting instead of Flipper. On the one hand it was her job, on the other hand if he asked her to do any work she might think less of him. He wanted her to like him.
Batwoman watched Pibbsy work from just outside the lab. He was immediately identifiable as the brains of the outfit simply by virtue of the fact he was the only one clearly demonstrating that he had any particular brains to use. Though he didn’t seem particularly combative in his appearance or gait Batwoman knew that the smarter villains could always pose the most problems and decided to put him down quickly. She crept towards him, picking up a length of rubber tubing from a pile of components as she moved.
Once she reached Pibbsy she simply looped the rubber tube around his neck and drew it as tight as she could, while exerting downward pressure to pull him to the ground. He let out a squeak of fright through his mask as she dragged him down to the floor, wrapping her legs around his body from behind as he panicked and clawed at the rubber tube. The tubing was biting up under his mask and doing a very effective job of strangling him. His gloves couldn’t grasp the rubber at all where it had narrowed due to the force exerted on it. Batwoman tightened the grip with her legs, squeezing her victim so that his eyes were bugging out of his head and his skin behind the mask began to turn a funny shade of blue.
Before too long his thrashing began to subside. Batwoman rolled over so that he was face down with her now kneeling on his back, putting the last few moments of pressure onto her makeshift garrotte to ensure that he was out for the count. She bound his ankles and wrists and left him lying face down on the floor of the lab. She’d deal with him later. That just left…
Batwoman saw the blow coming at the last instant and threw herself out of the way, the baseball bat missing her but not by as much as she’d have liked. Lulu smiled, pleased to see she had at least made the Bat flap for an instant.
“I’m going to smash your head in,” Lulu declared, wishing she’d had something cleverer to say. She’d never been one for perspicacity, but she felt like her point was made.
Batwoman didn’t say anything, but instead she backed slowly away out of the lab. Lulu didn’t understand what she was doing at first, then she realised and followed. Even she wasn’t dumb enough to want to wave a baseball bat around in a lab full of explosive chemicals.
They faced each other in the half light of the adjoining deserted office. Batwoman circled her opponent warily while Lulu just wishing that she knew better how to fight. She tried a couple of feints with the bat, but her limber opponent didn’t take the bait.
Studying her opponent Batwoman had to admit she was attractive, at least what she could see of her. She had adorable big blue eyes and her body, albeit somewhat hard to discern within the sometimes tight and shiny, sometimes loose, multi-coloured plastic of her hazmat suit, was curvy where it needed to be but complimented by gorgeous long legs. There was little to her as a fighting opponent though, that much was clear. She was built more like a cheerleader than a hired goon.
Lulu swung the bat again, this time no feint, and Batwoman knew she had her. Batwoman stepped inside the swing, striking Lulu’s wrists with one hand, causing the weapon to fly out of her hands and spin away into the space where Batwoman had just been. With the other hand Batwoman pushed her opponent in the chest, sending her stumbling back into the corner of the room, away from the door. Partly this was to get Lulu away from her nearest escape route, but also this attack had allowed Batwoman to stroke one of Lulu’s breasts and check if she was naked under her hazmat suit. It certainly felt like she was. Lulu reddened a little in embarrassment at how easily she’d been disarmed, this was not going according to plan.
Batwoman decided that she might as well force the issue now; her opponent was no longer much of a threat. She advanced quickly and grabbed Lulu by the wrist where she’d already hit her and flipped her over with a neat judo throw onto her back. Lulu yelped in pain as she hit the ground and rolled over quickly, trying to scurry away. Batwoman was on her before she’d made it very far, grabbing her by the waist of her hazmat suit pants, dragging her back and dumping her flat on the floor, pulling the pants down a bit as she did so, exposing her opponent’s cute bottom and lack of underwear as she did so.
“Hey what are you doing?” cried Lulu as Batwoman slipped her hand between her legs, stroking her sex surprisingly gently before seating herself on Lulu’s back to stop her getting away. The touch had completely thrown Lulu, were they still fighting or was this something else? She was still wondering that when Batwoman snaked an arm around her neck, putting her into a chokehold. Apparently this was still a fight.
“No fair!” gasped Lulu as she realised how she’d been undone by the distracting touch. Batwoman shushed her, reaching back between the struggling woman’s legs to grope her again, this time with more force and purpose.
Lulu tried to protest again but she could barely breathe and she could feel herself getting wet from Batwoman’s assault. She wondered if this was meant to be an interrogation technique, was she supposed to answer questions to get it to stop or get it to continue? She could feel an unwilling orgasm being dragged out of her and the more she fought against it the stronger the feeling got. She began to unconsciously grind herself against Batwoman’s intruding hand, but even as she did so her vision began to narrow, her tongue protruding from between her lips as she struggled desperately to take a breath within the confines of both the chokehold and the mask.
Sensing that her opponent was starting to fade Batwoman eased the chokehold a little, letting Lulu take a few half breaths while still molesting her insistently with her other hand, knowing that the half suffocated villainess was not far from an orgasm that would wipe her out completely.
Sure enough the orgasm struck Lulu just a few seconds later, rumbling through her entire body like a massive earthquake, the lack of oxygen and the humiliating circumstances only serving to heighten the effect beyond anything she’d felt before. She gasped and convulsed, her gas mask pulling tightly to her face as her hungry lungs forced the air through it far harder than it was designed to be able to handle. Batwoman kept working at her, teasing it out for as long as she could, smiling broadly as she felt the young woman beneath her succumb to the shuddering, sobbing aftershocks, finally passing out completely.
Once Lulu had lost consciousness silence descended once again over the lab buildings, the only sound the deep breathing of the defeated woman through the mask. Batwoman stood up, picking up the dozing villainess in her arms and carried her out to her own van. Laying her down in the back she then secured her prey with the same plastic cuffs as she had used on the others, removing Lulu’s gas mask after she had done so. Unlike the others who had been in some way shape or form rendered unconscious and kept in that state by forcible means, Batwoman was happy to note that Lulu was actually asleep, comfortably and deeply so, with a cute little tired smile on her face. In such a condition she’d be suggestible to interrogation later on, once the cops had picked up her friends.
After making a last check of the area to make sure that nobody was going to die while bound up and that nothing was likely to explode once she left, Batwoman made the call to the police to get a counter terrorism team to the site and lock everything down. Once they were on the way she headed for home, contemplating the happy dilemma of just how she was going to go about getting information out of her new prisoner.