It was no substitute for Dick. The dildo was painted a sickening shade of pink and was only about as wide around as a broomstick, which just didn't cut it. Still, Barbara frantically worked it between her legs and tried not to think of Dick as she grasped for an orgasm. It had been six months since they'd broken up and this hardly counted as ending a dry spell, but it was all she had left.
Damn the man. He was just like all the others. "You're too vanilla in bed, you need to let your wild side out." "I didn't expect a redhead to be so frigid." "C'mon, girl, let your freak flag fly!" Just because he'd never said it didn't mean he wasn't thinking it as he'd walked out the door.
"Batgirl, you're fifteen minutes late for patrol."
Barbara pulled the cheap plastic thing out of her pussy immediately and shoved it underneath her mattress. Batman was outside her door. He'd had to break into her apartment and... he knew what she had been doing. The only reason he hadn't burst in was... well, compounding her embarrassment would probably make her a less efficient crimefighter. That was all that mattered to him. Her and Dick's break-up just made them a less efficient team. He'd been pairing Dick with Tim recently, but they didn't have the same spark as she'd had with him. Bruce couldn't be pleased with that.
Quickly wiping herself off with her sheets, Barbara dressed and emerged from her bedroom two minutes later. Batman gave her a deadly look. "You are now seventeen minutes late."
"Sorry, I was... detained."
Batman wouldn't let it go. "Your sexual frustration is making you give an unacceptable performance."
Barbara stared at him, threading her coppery hair through the hole in the back of her cowl. "Are you telling me I need to get laid?"
Unbelievably, Batman nodded. "I'll pick you up at eight outside this building, tomorrow night. And," his voice grew dark, "don't be late."
Even more unbelievably, he actually showed up despite a pretty good taser hit he took from the Joker's joy-buzzer that night. Maybe the fact that he'd confiscated the ring afterwards had aided his recovery. Batman was a little psychosomatic like that.
The evening was pleasant, despite Bruce wearing a disguise ("Being seen on the arm of Bruce Wayne is its own kind of curse.") and he was a perfect gentlemen, tirelessly taking her to a romantic comedy before driving her to the manor. Alfred took the car around to the garage as Bruce escorted her up to the front perch.
"So," she said expectantly.
"So..."
He kissed her gently, taking about twenty seconds to reach up her shirt and fondle a breast. His groping was clumsy, uncertain. Barbara wrapped a hand around his wrist and made him bring his hand down.
"No," she said. "I don't want Bruce Wayne. I want Batman."
His eyes narrowed and he stalked into the manor. Sensing he wasn't finished with her yet, Barbara followed him inside. Up the stairs. Into the living room. The grandfather clock entrance was open. She closed it behind her. Below, the lights in the Batcave were still off for the... day. She followed the stairs down by memory for a few steps, but Bruce confirmed he was there by raising the light level just a little. It was as dim as night under a full moon.
She reached the main landing. The cave was quiet except for the scattered sound of air being slapped where the bats fluttered and the silent hum of the Batcomputer, still compiling information.
"Take it off."
The voice came from behind her. There wasn't any point in pretending it was still Bruce. He wore the armor, the cape, but not the cowl. Dutifully, she took off her jacket and let it drop to the floor. Batman gave it a quick glance as if making a note to clean it up later, then gave his full attention to Barbara. The cool air stabbed at her long, bare legs; it made her body break out in goosebumps. She gave an involuntary shudder, then a larger one when Batman suddenly lurched towards her. He was only a head taller than her, but he seemed like a giant towering over her.
"You wanted to see me?"
It wasn't a question. Barbara swallowed her fears and reached out. When he didn't protest, she worked her fingers into the buckle of his belt.
"No," he said simply. Then he reached down and guided her fingers to a hidden catch. "I added a trap that needs to be disarmed."
He showed her how to do it and she undid his belt. He slung it over his shoulder and waited patiently while she puzzled her next move. Finally, Barbara dug her fingers into his waistband, her knuckles rubbing against his chiseled midsection, and began to tug down his trunks.
Cobra-quick Batman picked her up and pinned her against a cabinet for storing crime lab fluids. His mouth was against hers, hot and intense, and she felt her hands come to a rest on his broad shoulders. He stopped kissing her, moved down to the nape of her neck where he bit and suckled. Barbara moaned despite herself while he remained (coyly? Irredeemably?) silent. Her hands moved up his shoulders, across the belt hanging between neck and shoulder, over the sides of his throat, to cup his face and run through his hair. It felt smooth and glossy, so alien on this granite-hard fixture in her life. She giggled and kissed his forehead while he licked her collarbone. Their clothes were still on. Why were their clothes still on?
"Inside me," she said. Lukewarm leather gloves encircled her hips, rubbing against the satin of her skirt before coming up under her hemline and getting their relationship to third base. Then he pulled her panties down around her hips and that was the ballgame.
Barbara pulled her skirt up for him so he could enter her. At some time he had managed to undo a fly hidden on his codpiece and when he thrust into her, the cabinet she was wedged against flew back a foot. She choked down a shrill cry into a much more mild grunt and threw her arms around him, hands clinging to the folds of his cape. Barbara kissed his temple, then above his eyebrow, then managed to force his head upwards long enough to kiss him on the lips. She took a perverse joy in the look of outright astonishment that overtook his intense concentration, but it didn't last. He adjusted to the new stimuli and cupped her head with one hand while his other arm circled behind the small of her back and held her in place, a slave to the rhythm they had set up.
"Deeper, deeper," she panted into his ear, their faces inches apart. Calculating that the cabinet wouldn't be sturdy enough to take much more pounding, he spun her around and planted her against a stalagmite. The cold stone chilled right through her thin dress, almost cold enough to burn, but the feverish heat that had overcome her body quickly brought its temperature up to match her.
"How do I... your suit?" Barbara said, trying very hard to grow accustomed to him entering and exiting her at will.
"There's a catch under the cowl," he breathed, his voice barely showing his present exertion. "Then you just pull."
The stone was coarse and rough behind her, every thrust threatening to rip her dress, but she wasn't Batman; she couldn't bring herself to care. One of her arms went below his underarm and under his cape, searching for the tab. The other she threw over his shoulder and into the bottom of the cowl where the mask was supposed to lock in. She found a small tab that she pushed beneath the ring of his collar, then tugged on it with her other hand. The shirt of his uniform began to peel away from his body, revealing an array of scarred musculature and the musky scent of sweat trapped by neoprene. Getting a better grip on him by locking her legs around the back of his thighs, she reached with both hands under his cape and pulled. Separating in the back like a vest, it came all the way off. Barbara tossed the surprisingly heavy garment aside; the Kevlar plating in the breastplate made a metallic sound against the cavern floor.
"You look ridiculous," she said as he stood there, fucking her in pants pulled halfway down and a cape.
"You're trying to distract yourself to prolong your impending orgasm. It won't work. You're too close to finishing. Your skin has reddened due to increased blood flow, your vagina has become tighter, your uterus is undergoing muscular contractions, and your labia minora has become darker."
"Oh God, I love it when you talk dirty! Stroke my glistening love bud with your mighty sword! Do it! Slip me that pink steel!"
Batman stopped, staring at her oddly. Barbara caught her breath and smiled. "That prolonged enough for you?"
Peeved, Batman reached down to flick her clitoris. Barbara screamed and Batman resumed fucking her. Soon she felt that pinch she got in the back of her throat when she was about to come.
"Please, please, just a little more..."
For a moment she almost blacked out, because her chin was resting against his shoulder and from the way the veins in his neck were bulging, he was getting close too. With a long, satisfied exhale she reached climax. Her slow, drawled-out moan was matched by his grunt acknowledging her contractions. A single bead of sweat worked its way down from his hairline to his cheek as he prepared for his release.
Desperate, Barbara bit down on his neck, hard enough to draw blood. That only seemed to encourage him. So she dug her fingers into his asscheeks and stretched one digit towards his anus.
Batman made a shocked noise she found unbearably funny and backed away from her quickly, hitching his pants back up and immediately buckling them. His still-turgid erection strained at his trunks.
"I hope," he said in a small voice, "that you didn't do that sort of thing with Dick."
Barbara smiled and wrapped one arm around the stalagmite to keep from falling over. That... had been good sex. "There's nothing wrong with heterosexual men enjoying anal intercourse. I hear Superman can't get enough of it."
Batman blinked in surprise. "I can't speak as to Kryptonian mating habits, but..."
She let out a high-pitched giggle as she hitched her panties back up. "You noticed I had an orgasm?"
"It was somewhat hard to miss."
"I want more than one. Because I've only ever had the one. Even with Dick, we would... well, it would be simultaneous... but I want lots with you."
Batman squinted at her. "And I'm to understand that my own orgasm will just be put off until you're satisfied."
"Since when do you care about feeling good?"
"Point. And this will relieve your sexual frustration to the point where it won't be an issue?"
"Honey, you give me one more come like that and you won't hear me bitching for months."
Batman unbuckled his belt. "Alright then. Once more."
"No, no, no. You're a superhero, for God's sake. Not a normal part of society. Can't you try to be at least a little kinky?" Barbara gestured around the cave. "Don't you have anything here we can use for... fun?"
Batman glared at her, then shut his belt. "This is a repository of mementos and evidence in pending cases. It does not contain sex toys."
"Well, not if you don't use your imagination. C'mon... Superman would do it."
With complete deadpan, Batman reached into a trophy case and pulled out the battered Scarface puppet. He held it up and it said "Hey-a, toots! Let me get some of that hairpie!"
Barbara crossed her arms. "Not funny, Bruce."
The puppet gestured wildly. "What're ya talking to him for? I'm up here! C'mon, you don't want my wood?"
"Seriously, Bruce, you're getting me out of the mood."
Batman lowered Scarface. "Then you'll have something to think about next time you need to prolong an orgasm. Isn't that right, Scarface?"
"Gat's right, Batman!"
"Fine, fine..." Barbara tugged the doll away from Batman and threw it next to her jacket. "No sex toys. Maybe you could just use a new hole."
Batman walked towards her, backing her up towards the stalagmite. "I believe I've made my feelings clear on anal sex."
"Actually, I was talking about a blowjob."
"You were talking about kinky. I'm Batman." She backed into the stalagmite and Batman was against her. She felt his chest pressing up against hers, his nipples and a raised scar across his ribcage rubbing against her. Suddenly, her arms were wrapped backwards around the stalagmite, a pair of Bat-cuffs linking her wrists together. "I can do kinky."
Barbara struggled against her bonds to no avail. She was tied around the stalagmite like a witch about to be burned at the stake. "Uhhh... Bruce? This isn't what I had in mind."
"It rarely is. You keep calling me Bruce. I thought you wanted Batman." He drew a long, thin Batarang from his utility belt, the scalloped edges gleaming in the dull light.
"I wanted to make love!"
Batman drew her dress up, then cut through the waistband of her panties in two efficient motions. He took the ruined panties and stuffed them into an evidence compartment on his utility belt.
"You wanted to get fucked." Pulling the shoulder straps off her dress off, Batman slowly drew the dress down her body until it was pooled around her ankles. "There's a difference."
She hated when he was right. And he was always right. "Okay, you've got me there. Do your worst, Mr. Wayne."
Batman returned the Batarang to his belt, then went to the storage cabinet he had fucked her against. He threw it open, quickly checked to see if any of the materials had been jostled, then closed and locked it.
"Br... Batman, I'm waiting."
"Anticipation has been known to increase sexual desire." He picked up the Scarface puppet, her jacket, and his uniform's shirt. The puppet he returned to its case, the clothes he hung up next to the suit he had wore to dinner. "Be a little patient."
"I could scream."
"No one would hear you."
"Someone would come for me eventually. Tim or Alfred or Dick..."
"I could move you to a more secure location."
Barbara sighed playfully. "Then I guess I just have no choice but to go along with your perverted sex games."
Batman picked Mr. Freeze's ice-gun out of its exhibit. "Struggling has also been known to increase sexual desire."
"Learned that one from Catwoman, did you?"
"What if I did?" He turned the ice-gun to its lowest setting. "Do you trust me?"
"What?"
"I was... kidding before. You can leave, anytime you want to. Do you want to stay?"
Barbara stared at him. He really didn't have a clue sometimes. "What, and miss whatever you're going to do to me with that thing? Bring it."
He stopped in front of her, then aimed the ice-gun at one of her heaving breasts. She braced herself. He pulled the trigger. A small layer of ice frosted over her nipple, eliciting a sharp "ooh" of delight from Barbara. Batman knelt down on one knee and hungrily brought his mouth to her other nipple, engulfing her entire aureole between his lips. His tongue captured her nipple and she felt feverish. The sharp contrast between the cold on one nipple and the heat of his mouth on the other was driving Barbara wild. She rubbed her tights together, trying desperately to gain some kind of relief in her nether regions.
"Batman, my pussy, please... give me a finger, give me a cock, give me something."
Batman released her spit-slick nipple and looked up at her, a slight upturn curling his lips. "Something it is."
With the flick of a switch, the ice-gun produced an icicle projectile. But it was thicker and longer than usual, the edge blunt and rounded. In fact, it was almost...
Phallic.
Barbara looked down at Bruce as he broke the ice-dildo off the barrel of the gun. "Sadist."
"If I were a sadist, I wouldn't be doing this."
He traced the ice-dildo lightly over her pussy lips. She groaned in dismay at the minor contact. "Yes, you would. And you'd enjoy watching me suffer."
"Indeed I would." He lowered the ice-dildo between her legs and raised it up, chilling the area between her vagina and rectum. "If I were a sadist." Raising the ice-dildo up higher, he finally drove it into her. "But I'm not."
Barbara gasped as her vaginal walls struggled to hold onto the slippery dildo. It seemed in danger of falling out of her at any moment, but the way it dripped inside her was driving her mad. "Please, Bruce, just a little deeper, please..."
"Then again, I may be. I'm finding your suffering in this case quite entertaining, for instance."
"For fuck's sake, Batman, do you want me to beg?"
Batman lowered himself to eyelevel with her. "I want you to come."
With that, he thrust the ice-dildo into her up to the hilt. Barbara screamed at the sudden influx of sensations, her orgasm breaking the icicle in two. Batman pulled out his end as the other continued to melt inside her, ice water dribbling out of her pussy and down her leg.
"That would make two, I believe."
Barbara looked at him pleadingly. She thrust her hips out and slapped her ass back against the stalagmite repeatedly to punctuate her words. "Please, Batman, just one more. I'll do anything you want. I'll do things even Catwoman won't let you do. Just one more and I'll never bother you about this again, I swear. I'll hire gigolos if I have to, I'll masturbate to reruns of Full House, I'll do anything, just get me off a third time."
Batman looked between her and the castrated ice-dildo in his gloved hand. "Full House?"
"I always thought Uncle Jesse was kind of cute."
Batman turned his back on her and went to another exhibit. He futzed with it for a moment, then turned back to her. "You'll like this."
"I'm sure I will."
He returned to her with that queer, invisible joy that surrounded him when he was pleased with him. With tantalizing lack of speed, he brought what was left of the ice-dildo to her pussy, ran it along her labia again, then upwards, through her sparse auburn pubic hair. Barbara cooed as he dipped it into her belly button. Like a painter at work on his masterpiece, Batman meticulously brought the significantly smaller ice-dildo upwards, running it in circles around her breasts before moving inward, covering both tits in moisture up to the nipple. Barbara's pebbles became harder than stone under his care. As if rewarding her for her patience, Batman fed the ice-cube-sized dildo to her. Barbara tasted herself in it as it melted in her mouth.
Then Batman held up his other hand. One of the Joker's joy-buzzer rings was on his finger.
"I've put it on its lowest setting. Do you still trust me?"
Barbara had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being tested. "Yes."
Batman felt her right breast. For a moment, Barbara just gave herself over to the sensation of being fondled. The leather in his glove was chafing at the webbing between thumb and forefinger, and when the peeling leather brushed against her sensitive nipple it made her yearn in ways she wasn't comfortable thinking about. Then the joy-buzzer touches her skin and a cunning (that's the only way she could describe it; not good or bad, just cunning) feeling shot through her body. The dew that ran from her pussy up to her cleavage transmitted the electrical current, focusing it on her erogenous zones. After the initial pulse was over and he had pulled his hand away, Barbara recovered. The residual heat made her head spin; the feeling was unlike anything she had ever felt before, but she could definitely use more of it.
Sensing her approval and permission, Batman squeezed her left breast. Again, the electricity penetrated through her entire body. This time, accustomed to the shock, it was almost like a massage throughout her physique. Invisible hands caressed and fucked her parts, leaving her breast sore but happy.
Then Batman cupped her crotch with the joy-buzzer. The electrical current shot straight through her pussy, up into her uterus, stronger and more direct than any dick. Barbara screamed out the pain as the pleasure burned her out inside, leaving her hallowed. She sagged against the stalagmite, her third orgasm leaving her spent.
Batman took off the joy-buzzer and placed it around the ring finger of her left hand. "For later," he said. "So you don't lose it."
Barbara realized she had been given a gift. Weakly managing to raise her head, she met Batman's level gaze.
"One more," Batman said in a voice with absolutely no emotion in it.
Barbara nodded.
Batman went to another exhibit, this time picking up a potted plant. It seemed like any old houseplant, with one long stalk supporting a strangely phallic bulb, like a zucchini or other vegetable. Like he was pulling a weed, Batman yanked it out of the pot and set it down in the puddle that had formed underneath Barbara. In no time at all, roots had drawn sustenance from the melted ice and fallen sweat. The stalk animated, becoming a vine that waved about this way and that.
"It's a vine-brator," Batman explained. "I confiscated it from one of Poison Ivy's hide-outs. Since she can't touch anyone..."
"Why can't she just use plastic?"
"Bad for the environment."
"No vibrators? That's taking environmentalism way too far."
The vine was elongating, straining upwards towards Barbara's still-wet snatch.
"It seeks out fluid, especially that of female ejaculate. Based on the fluids both that you've generated and that I've planted on you..."
Like a snake striking, the vine rushed upward and shoved the bulb into Barbara' cunt. Barbara moaned; her nerves were still raw from their prior sex acts. The pleasure being generated was almost unbearable. She sunk to her knees when the bulb began vibrating. Barbara wondered how her father would react if he could see her now. Hair plastered to her skin, body covered in sweat except where it had been washed clean by melted ice, pussy juice being sucked out of her vagina by a supervillain's genetically-engineered plant...
Who said blondes had more fun?
"Your prick," Batgirl gasped out. "Give it to me. Now!"
It wasn't a request. It was an order. Batman once more undid his belt and dropped trou. Like a woman possessed, Barbara latched onto his half-hard penis and began sucking. Batman groaned at the magnitude of the feeling and actually rested his hands on her head, motioning for her to take him deeper into her mouth. She had no objections to that plan. As his leather-clad fingers twined with her sweat-soaked hair, Barbara deep-throated him. The three of them actually got a pretty good fucking rhythm going on. Batman thrusting his hips against her face, Barbara's mouth traveling up and down his pole, the vine pushing deeper and deeper between her legs. Barbara didn't just come for a fourth time, but for a fifth, sixth, and seventh time. The vine-brator, drowned in fluid, shriveled and retracted. It was used to being used by lesser mortals.
Sensing Batman was on the verge of climax, Batgirl pulled away from him. The rock-hard cock stared at her, purple and gushing pre-cum.
"Barbara, what are you doing?" Batman asked, a note of panic in his voice.
"Just prolonging the inevitable, Brucie."
With that, Barbara licked his cockhead. Batman let out a deep groan as he came. His cock exploded cum against her face, covering her like a mask. Barbara had to close her eyes. When she opened them, his load dripped off her eyelashes. Weary, Batman actually stumbled backwards before he regained his footing and released Barbara from her bonds.
Barbara ran a finger along her cum-soaked face, then sucked on it. It tasted salty. "I am such a whore," she said contentedly, suddenly in a self-deprecatory mood. She wiped her face on Batman's cloak. Bruce was too tired to protest; he just took off his cape and stuffed his deflated cock back inside his pants.
"We should do this more often," Barbara joked.
"Yes, we should."
"Excuse me?"
"Sex has proven health benefits. It improves the sense of smell, reduces the risk of heart disease, increases the rate of weight loss, reduces depression, aids in pain relief, boost the immune system, gives better bladder control, improves dental hygiene, and helps the prostate. It'd be foolish to ignore that advantage due to outdated social mores."
Barbara blinked. "Same time next week?"
"I'll have monitor duty at the Watchtower. Tim will fill in."
"What?"
"Sex would be beneficial to his self-esteem and reduce his psychological weakness in this area."
Barbara angrily pulled her dress back up. Her panties were a lost cause; Bruce could keep the damn things. "You are unbelievable. You really expect to pimp me out to your sidekick?"
"By many standards, Tim could be considered quite attractive for a boy his age. His features are symmetrical, he's in excellent physical condition, and virginity is considered by many to be a pleasing sexual characteristic."
Barbara picked up her jacket. "Goodbye, Bruce. I'll see you next week." She started up the stairs.
"Barbara, wait."
Barbara turned around expectantly.
"You missed some in your hair."
Barbara pulled a clog of semen free from a lock of hair and wiped it on her leg. In the morning, she would make that damn phone call. Say what you will about Dick Grayson, but at least he didn't expect her to whore herself out to his friends.
Batman waited until the grandfather clock had closed, then pressed a button on his communicator.
"Nightwing, this is Batman. Expect a call from Miss Gordon in a few days. She'll want to resolve your relationship difficulties. Be amiable and gracious." Batman paused, then added one more thought to the message. "Be careful. She may attempt anal intercourse."