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“Looks like we’ve found her, Robin.”
“Mhm. What do you want to do, Batboy?”
“We need to go in there and take her out before she slips away from us again.”
Standing next to him on the edge of a building, staring down at the old chemical plant slash office building that’s been completely overrun by wild plants, Stephanie Brown nods.
At first, it had been hard for her to adjust to the fact that Gotham’s Dark Knight, the terror that patrolled the city and kept criminals shaking in their boots, really was just a kid. She thought that was just in the name. At least she thought he had to be her age.
Finding out that Batboy was no misnomer, and that the superhero that protected Gotham was a pre-teen, had really thrown her for a loop. Still, she had rolled with the punches, and now here she is.
Ready to take down a renegade high-rise robber right alongside him, with the tight-fitting spandex and tiny domino mask hiding her identity to go along with it, the typical guise of a Robin.
A kid he might be, but that doesn’t stop The Dark Knight from being any less serious (nor having all the money and trauma to back up this lifestyle), and he shows that in the way he frowns hard at the building in front of them.
It’s not any criminal they’re chasing, after all. If it was just some normal robber, Stephanie would just say she felt bad for the guy and probably try to convince Bruce that they were better off just leaving him to his fate.
If anyone but Catwoman, fresh off stealing a priceless cat figurine from Ancient Egypt from the private collection of a wealthy Gotham socialite, had broken into what is obviously Ivy’s hideout… They wouldn’t last long.
But even the criminals of Gotham who don’t get along tend to band together in the face of the Batfam, as far as Stephanie can tell. The enemy of my enemy and all that. So there’s no doubt in her mind— and probably none in Batboy’s— that Catwoman is seeking shelter with her supernaturally powerful bosom buddy right this second, and every moment they stand around waiting is a second they lose the element of surprise and have every chance of Catwoman getting away.
The way she always gets away.
Robin looks over to Batboy. He looks up from his binoculars that he’s using to survey the scene in front of them and nods at her. She smiles and nods back as she reaches for the grappling hook on her belt, while he does the same.
They’re about to make a very grand entrance, and make sure Poison Ivy and Catwoman both have a very bad night.
That’s what Batboy and Robin do, after all.
“C’mon, Pam… Please? Just do it for me?”
“All of the kitty eyes in the world aren’t going to convince me to help you get out of your own mess, Selina. Did you really think that just running in here and hiding was going to be the end of your worries? You really should have a better exit strategy than that.”
“But it’s Batboy and his little birdie who are after me… Don’t you always want to play with them? They’re practically gift wrapping themselves for you.”
“Listen, just because—”
The conversation between the two buxom criminals is interrupted by the sound of shattering glass, and the sudden arrival of the vigilante duo they were just talking about a moment ago.
Poison Ivy jumps out of her chair and Catwoman jumps backwards. Batboy and Robin are, of course, totally familiar with their usual modus operandi— but maybe the two of them had been underestimating just how well the two women get along, or their ability to think on their feet.
Batboy reaches for one of the Batarangs on his belt, but Poison Ivy is already ready for him, sending one of her plants to lash out and smack it out of his hand like a mother scolding a disobedient child— which is exactly what he is.
“Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in,” Poison Ivy purrs, and Catwoman chuckles. Neither bat nor bird seem to find it quite so funny— it’s Robin’s turn to try and attack them, but Catwoman already has her whip in hand, cracking it to slap her Batarang right out of the air.
Of course, the two of them have no end to the tricks up their sleeves. It’s what always makes them so annoying to fight. And thankfully, though Catwoman has made it so she has to put it to use earlier than she was planning on— something Poison Ivy will be sure to punish her for later— she’s been devising a new special little treat for the next time she gets to see Batboy and one of his horde of helpers.
He’s too smart, has been playing this game for too long (in spite of how young he is) to not realize there’s one of her giant flowers opening right next to his face, but there’s nothing that can stop the pollen that sprays out directly at him— or the matching one on Robin’s side that does the same to her, leaving her coughing as it fulls her lungs through her mouth and nose.
“Is that your only plan?” Batboy asks, his voice deep and gravelly for a kid his age, probably on purpose. “I already devised a vaccine that can protect us from your mind control spores, Ivy— you’re going to have to do better than that.”
“Oh, but I already have. Those weren’t my mind control spores— I’ve been cooking up something extra special for you, devised from a rare and powerful blossom found only in the deepest parts of the Amazon rainforest.”
Poison Ivy, like most villains, enjoys a good monologue. It can often be their downfall, too busy talking and boasting about their intelligence or their prowess to notice when the hero is about to get the better of them— but Poison Ivy isn’t just boasting without a good reason, explaining her plan without knowing first whether it’s going to work.
Even though Batboy and Robin don’t seem to realize it yet, smug in the pre-teen boy’s genius intellect and his knowledge of his villains, she knows that she’s already won.
Because she knows that Batboy and Robin have absolutely no defences against what she’s just made sure they’ve inhaled deeply.
It doesn’t take long for the effects to start to set in. They lunge at them like they’re preparing to attack, only to end up on their knees as the pollen from her flowers starts to take grip in their bloodstream.
“You’re probably feeling a little dizzy right now,” she says, as she watches Robin’s legs start to shake from the effort of keeping herself upright. Batboy, meanwhile, is starting to breathe heavily, already tugging at the tight spandex suit that he wears which she’s sure must be padded to make him look extra strong in spite of his small size. “Don’t worry, that’s perfectly natural. This new baby of mine is able to stimulate the human nervous system in all kinds of fun and delightful ways. There are even tribes deep in the rainforest who harvest the pollen of this magnificent plant to use for a purpose as old as time.
“As a natural aphrodisiac.”
Poison Ivy laughs, a low chuckle rather than a maniacal cackle, although the effect is much the same; it leaves Robin with a looming feeling of dread, and it makes Catwoman let out an impressed sounding whistle.
“How long have you been cooking up that little scheme, sweetheart?” she asks, and Poison Ivy flips her hair, looking totally unbothered.
“Oh, you know. Just something I’ve been working on in my spare time. I didn’t think I’d have to implement it this soon,” She pauses to glare in Catwoman’s direction for good measure, and Catwoman doesn’t even have the shame to look sheepish about the fact that she just crashed her party and ruined her surprise, but that’s Catwoman for you. “But I suppose it’s a good a time as any to see just how well it works.”
“See? You’ve already found the silver lining. Good for you.”
Poison Ivy rolls her eyes at Catwoman, but Batboy and Robin aren’t really concerned about that right now.
They’re far more interested in how much the room is spinning around them… And how hot their bodies suddenly feel.
Stephanie is the first to break. Panting and sweating like it’s the middle of summer and she’s just stepped outside in a parka and snow pants, she pulls at the spandex of her outfit that feels restricting, like a second skin in need of being shed. Her hands are shaking so hard that it’s difficult for her to actually get out of it, and her now soupy brain briefly debates just ripping them right off, but thankfully she manages to get out of them without tearing away the bits of clothing that would leave her with any dignity getting out of here.
If she gets out of here. The two women who are standing by and smugly watching the two of them might have something to say about that.
Right now, getting away is the furthest thing from her mind, because all she can think about is how her entire body feels like it’s crawling with bugs, but in sort of a good way?
Batboy doesn’t seem to be doing any better— or any worse, as the case may be. He’s sweating hard, his face already flushed, and the fact that he’s aroused is a lot more obvious than it is in Robin’s case, his cock hardening and pressing up against the spandex of his tights which leaves little room for the imagination. As he starts pulling off his own clothes— barely having the presence of mind to leave his cowl in place, and something he probably wouldn’t have even thought to do if he hadn’t completely ingrained it in himself from the moment he chose to become a costumed crime fighter— he can barely wait to get out of them to get a hand around himself, feverishly jerking off.
“Well, well. I would say it’s a marvellous success, wouldn’t you, Selina?”
“You really have outdone yourself this time, Pam. And they’re not under any mental influence at all?”
“Nothing but their own hormones. The human body really is just that easy to manipulate.” Poison Ivy raises an eyebrow at Catwoman as she stands there with her head tilted and one of her lips caught between her teeth, chewing on it until she starts to smear her lipstick. “Are you just going to stand around, then?”
“H-huh?” Catwoman startles like her namesake, like she didn’t realize Pamela was watching her. Pamela smiles smugly.
“I thought you wanted to use me as a distraction so you could get away from the Bat brats. Well, they’re plenty distracted now, so wouldn’t this be your chance to get away?”
Catwoman blinks a few times behind her goggles, trying to process what Ivy is saying— and then feels her face starting to flush as she realizes she’s been caught.
It’s not like any of this was her intention. She didn’t even know Pamela had something like this up her sleeve when she decided to crash right into her party in hopes of finding a clean getaway. But now that she’s here and she has this fun little sight in front of her…
Well, it’s not like the two of them are in any shape to be able to chase after her right now, so why should she be in some big rush to get away?
When she says as much to Poison Ivy, the other woman laughs.
“You have a while before the pollen wears off,” she says. “And I can always give them another dose if they need one— although I don’t know how many doses their bodies can take before they give out entirely. Human are so fragile, after all… Sometimes I forget just how fragile.”
She clicks her tongue, and Catwoman tries not to be creeped out hearing that coming from her, reminding herself that this is Ivy and she should know what she’s getting into any time she decides to work with her.
“Well then… Why don’t we have some fun with the two of them?”
Batboy has been a pain in the ass of so many super villains in Gotham ever since he started fighting crime with cape and cowl that it’s hard to imagine any of them not wanting at least a little revenge.
Right now, though, the two women who are advancing on him have a little more on their mind than just plain old revenge.
The two of them could do just about anything they wanted to Batboy and Robin right now, and they would both be powerless to resist— far too caught up in their own bodies and the overwhelming sensations that are washing over them as the pollen takes root to be able to fight back.
They could kill them, here and now. Poison Ivy is most certainly thinking about it, would be glad to rid herself of such a nuisance. Catwoman is less inclined, being a bit more morally structured than her eco-terrorist friend, but she also doesn’t have an interest in sticking her neck out for the duo, either; they should know what they’re getting into if they’re so determined to play hero, after all.
But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a little bit of fun with them, first.
The two women shamelessly strip down— Ivy is wearing little more than a haphazard arrangement of leaves that covers all the bits that really matter, so it’s easy enough for her, while it takes Catwoman a bit longer to strip out of her skintight latex suit, but neither of them feel self-conscious in the slightest about getting naked in front of each other. Since Selina is more caught up in trying to get naked, Ivy decides that it’s her turn first.
She steps forward and puts her hand on Batboy’s head. He lets out a moan just at having her touch him at all— not even in a place that’s especially arousing. His entire body must feel like one big nerve ending right now, and she wonders if she would be able to make him cum without touching him in any of the usual erogenous zones— but that’s a thought for another time.
Right now, she can already feel herself getting wet just as the thought of having Batboy so helpless and weak in front of her that she needs to make good use of him. Normally she wouldn’t be so weak to the idea of having a man getting her off, but when it’s also in the process of humiliating him…
Well, she can make an exception. Especially since you can hardly call Batboy a man at all. He's young, hasn't even grown into his body yet…
Although judging by the weapon he's packing inside of that suit of his, it won't be long. After all, she can hardly imagine that getting any bigger. If it did, then all of Gotham’s criminal elements wouldn’t have to worry about fighting Batboy anymore— they would just have to find a way to give him an erection and he’d pass out from all of the blood rushing away from his head.
“Y-you… Won’t win so easily, Ivy…” Batboy manages to force out through a dry-sounding throat as he pants even more, like a dog that’s desperate to hump something.
Poison Ivy isn’t going to give him that particular luxury— she can let the woman behind her who is trying and failing to pretend she’s not licking her lips and squirming in place as she stares at Batboy’s dick have that honour— but since Selina is taking her sweet time, and since she’s the one who has inconvenienced her so severely this evening, she doesn’t feel bad about taking the boy’s attention first.
She presses her foot against Batboy’s shoulder. He’s strong, but he’s not stable right now, not by a long shot— so even though she’s not really putting any strength behind it, it’s easy for her to push him to the floor, sending him sprawling onto his back with a dull ‘oof’.
Impressively, he manages to not stop jerking himself off while he falls. It’s a small wonder he hasn’t cum all over himself yet, considering how young he is, but maybe Batboy has some deep dark secrets hiding under that cowl of his, more than just his true identity.
(Not that Poison Ivy cares that much about that. She’s happy to leave nonsense like that to Joker and Riddler. For her, all that matters when it comes to Batboy is whether he’s dead or not.)
Ivy moves to stand directly over him, looking down at him as he stares up at her, getting a perfect view of her wet cunt. No, she might not have any personal interest in Batboy, not the way Selina does (and fails ton try to hide, although why she even bothers Pamela has no idea— it’s not like anyone in the circles they run in are going to have any moral high ground to stand on when it comes to her having a thing for a little boy).
“Not so smug now, are you?” she asks, remembering when he had boasted that her plants would have no effect on him, as if he thought she wouldn’t be able to learn and grow from her past mistakes. “Here, I have something to keep that smart little mouth of yours busy.”
Poison Ivy lowers herself to the ground, far more gracefully than the average person would be able to, and hovers with her hips inches from Batboy’s face juuuuuust long enough that she knows he understands what’s about to happen.
And then she sits down on her haunches.
Hand pressed to the top of his cowl, Poison Ivy doesn’t even give Batboy a chance to adjust to what’s happening. As far as she’s concerned, he’s a particular realistic sex toy right now, which is a thought that makes her bite her lip as she rocks her hips forward, dragging her wet cunt across his face and forcing his hot mouth against her.
That’s all men are really ever good for anyway, right? Batboy should learn that now while he’s still young, before he starts to get a big head— although from the way he always seems to be so sure he’s going to come out on top in a fight, she thinks that maybe it’s a little too late for that.
Not that it matters to her.
“Haaaaah…” She lets out a sigh of pleasure and relief when she feels the boy’s hot tongue start to move against her. He obviously doesn’t know what he’s doing, is driven purely by instinct as the pollen starts to override the part of his brain that tells him he probably shouldn’t be eating out one of the villains he’s supposed to be capturing and throwing into Arkham, but she doesn’t need him to be some pussy eating Mozart.
All she really needs is to see Batboy submissive underneath her; she doubts it’s going to take any more than that to get her off.
To her side, she hears someone whine in the back of their throat, a sound that doesn’t quite sound human, more like an animal in heat— which she supposes is exactly what the two beasts that she’s captured are right now.
For a moment she thinks it’s Selina, already starting to complain about being left out, but as she looks over at the source of the noise she realizes it’s Robin.
Poor girl has been forgotten, and is sitting on the floor, one hand cupping one of her breasts and tugging at her own nipple until it’s abused red, and one between her legs as she grinds herself against her own hand. The insides of her thighs are so wet that it almost looks like she’s pissed herself, if not for the fact that it’s clear and sticking to her, and she’s drooling as she watches Poison Ivy sit on Batboy’s face, like there’s nothing else in the world she would rather be doing right now.
No— like she needs to be doing something like that right now, or she’s going to keel over and die.
Well, it’s not entirely out of the realm of possibility. Getting overexcited could cause the little birdy’s heart to burst right out of her chest, and she definitely looks excited right now— and needy and desperate and a whole slew of other words that are a lot less flattering.
“It looks like Robin wants to play too,” Catwoman purrs from somewhere behind her, and Poison Ivy can tell from the slick noises that she’s touching herself, too, albeit with a lot more decorum than the girl squirming and writhing on the floor like she’s going to die if she doesn’t get a dick inside of her.
“Do you think we should let her?” Poison Ivy asks, her voice already starting to get breathy as she rocks her hips, feeling her swollen clit bump against the underside of Batboy’s nose. As if on cue, he reaches up and plants his hands on her thighs; normally she would smack them away, or summon vines to pull them away from her, because she doesn’t want anyone presuming they’re allowed to just touch her like that, but he only uses it so he can fully pull her down against his mouth and start going to town on her.
It’s hard to argue with something like that, so she doesn’t. She just moans so loud it feels like half of Gotham is going to hear her.
Catwoman doesn’t give her an actual answer, either too caught up in her own thoughts or assuming that Poison Ivy is too caught up in hers to care about whatever she has to say, but she does take a step forward. She leans down so she’s looking Robin in the eyes through her mask, and licks her lips.
An actual robin seeing a cat looking at them like that would be terrified for their lives. This particular Robin just whines like she’s a child asking their mother for permission to do something they know they’re not supposed to do.
“Hm… Let’s see if she can at least try to earn it first,” is the answer Pamela finally gets, although she’s so caught up in the hot wet boy tongue pressing inside of her that she doesn’t even care about what Catwoman is talking about anymore, and so it’s lost on her. Catwoman doesn’t care either, though; she has a plan and she’s going to follow through with it, and that starts with grabbing Robin by her pretty blonde hair and dragging her over to the pair writhing on the floor together.
Batboy has finally stopped jerking himself off so he can use his hands for leverage to eat Ivy out, but that leaves his cock looking neglected and lonely. Catwoman could do something about that herself, of course— but she wants to warm herself up a little first, appetizers before the main course.
She’s been wanting this for a while, after all— doing her best to keep it hidden because what are people going to think about her wanting to fuck someone as young as Batboy, not to mention the hero who always puts all of them in jail?
(Except for her, of course. Batman doesn’t even know her secret identity yet, as far as she knows. It makes it a risk to have her mask off around him like this, but she doesn’t want to have to watch this whole scene play out from behind a pair of goggles. She would much rather get a nice up close and personal view of all of the action.)
Robin whimpers at the hand dragging her by her hair. There’s a part of her that knows she should fight back, that knows she shouldn’t be stripping down naked in front of two wanted criminals, but the much louder part of her that’s only interested in how wet and achy she is between her legs is winning out at the moment, and she crawls on her knees to follow Catwoman as she’s pulled over to where Batboy and Poison Ivy are having fun.
She wants nothing more than to sit down on the cock that looks way too big to be attached to a kid his age, but when she tries to get up on her shaky knees so she can straddle him and lower herself onto it— not even caring how awkward that’s going to make continuing to work together as Batboy and Robin, not even thinking about it because what little is left of her brain is far too focused on just getting a dick inside of her no matter the cost— Catwoman just tugs on her hair, making her cry out.
She reaches down to cup the back of her head and force her down towards Batboy’s cock— not her pussy, the way she wants, but her mouth.
“Doesn’t his cock look lonely, sweetheart?” Catwoman purrs at her, sounding so nice and pleasant for someone as cruel as she’s being right now, making Stephanie whine in the back of her throat. “Why don’t you be a good girl and take care of that, and maybe later we’ll let you play with him. Maybe.”
Even though it’s not what she wants, and she has half a mind to complain— half a mind being all she really has at the moment— as soon as she catches a whiff of Batboy’s cock, that thick, musky smell that tells her he’s been sweating in his spandex briefs all night— she’s too busy doing exactly what Catwoman told her to do to think about what she’s complaining about.
It’s not like Stephanie has a lot of experience doing something like this— her body means she’s always been popular with boys, but crime fighting doesn’t leave one with much chance for a social life, but that hasn’t stopped her from getting incredibly horny. Porn and toys have done a lot of the work she needs done, but other than that…
She squirms and rubs her thighs together as she gets her first real cock in her mouth in ever. The taste is just as thick and heady as the smell, and she can’t stop herself from moaning at it, getting even wetter at the first few bitter drops of pre-cum running down her throat that she swallows like it’s the most delicious ambrosia in all the world.
Even though she’s never done this before, her own ambition and the hard work of the pollen coursing through her body and making her more receptive— and hornier— than she’s ever been in her life make it surprisingly easy for her to stretch her mouth around the girth of Batboy’s cock and take it deeper into her. She sticks to the first few inches for a bit, concentrating hard with the only interruption being the background noise of Poison Ivy moaning while she rides Batboy’s face, but it doesn’t take long before she starts to gain a bit of confidence.
She wants his cock inside of her so badly that she’s willing to do this, even if this isn’t the hole she wants it in— it’s the only one she’s getting to use, so she’s going to make the most of it, dipping her head to take it into her throat and swallow the whole thing down.
Catwoman lets out another whistle signalling that she’s impressed, tipping her head to the side as she watches Robin bob up and down the full length of Batboy’s cock like her life depends on it. Does she have a rival for The Dark Knight’s affections? Maybe, or maybe Ivy’s pollen is just making the poor dear that desperate— a thought corroborated by the way Robin slides her hand back between her legs to almost frantically rub at her pussy, leaking all over the place.
Pamela’s sweet voice, meanwhile, reaches a crescendo as she clamps her thick thighs down around Batboy’s head. If it were anyone else it would probably hurt, maybe start to suffocate him. Of course, the caped crusader is made of tougher stuff than that.
Not that getting crushed between a gorgeous green woman’s massive thighs as he eats her out would be a bad away to go, of course. Selina is sure there are plenty of men who would pay through the nose for the chance to exit this mortal coil that way. If Poison Ivy weren’t throwing her head back and rambling nonsense about more, right there, yes, yes, yes, then she would almost think that’s her plan— lure the kid into a false sense of security, get to take her pleasure from him, and then kill him.
But there’s a lot more fun the two of them can have with him, so she hopes Pamela doesn’t get bored already and decide to do something like that.
Thankfully, she doesn’t. The woman’s legs are shaking as she raises herself up off of Batboy, and she even has to use her vines to help stabilize herself a little bit to keep her from stumbling as she gets up, though the way Batboy is clinging to her legs makes it obvious he doesn’t want her to go.
That’s how Catwoman knows his logical brain really has disappeared. Even though the boy in front of her is just that— a boy, not a man— he’s always so serious, so mature. The contrast between the way he looks and the way he acts is what’s drawn her to him, because she just knows she can bring out the boy in him by throwing every pre-teen’s sexual fantasies right in his face; all she has to do is break through that tough outer wall.
Which is exactly what the pollen has done, making him whine in the back of his throat like a desperate puppy when the pussy that’s been sat on his face is taken from him, even though there’s a girl in his lap sucking his dick right now.
Catwoman licks her lips as Pamela slaps his hands away, directing her vines to peel him off of her and pin him to the floor so that he can’t try to get up to follow her. She slumps her way to a vine that rises to meet her and form a sort of chair, letting her relax into it with a satisfied grin on her face.
“For a kid, he really isn’t bad,” she says, and Selina thinks that’s the understatement of the year, because she doubts a man has successfully made Pamela Isley cum that hard in… Ever. “And it looks like Robin is having some fun.”
“Don’t let her have too much fun while I have my turn,” Catwoman says, and it’s definitely not out of jealousy that she doesn’t want Robin to have a chance at Batboy’s cock, at least not until she’s gotten to have it first. She does want to let her get him off first, though; the second time will last longer, and she wants to have as much fun with him as she can.
Knowing that she’s capable of going a few rounds in a row, though, she decides she’s going to have some fun while she waits for Robin to do her job, and with Poison Ivy’s spot no longer taken…
Batboy squirms in the grasp of the vines, moaning and growling at the same time, the pleasurable sensation of having his dick encased in a hot, wet throat as Robin moans around him in time with her own pleasure fighting with the fact that he wants so badly to be able to get up and get someone sitting on his face again. The taste of Ivy’s pussy was as sweet as candy and even though he was having trouble breathing, there’s nothing more he wants right now than to have it back.
Well, Ivy seems to be done with him for the moment, sitting off to the side with her head cocked as she watches the rest of the show… But when two long legs attached to a perfect set of hips and a juicy ass join the party, he knows that someone is going to give him what he wants.
“Feeling lonely, Batboy?” Catwoman purrs, and even though there is someone ‘tending’ to him right now, Batboy can’t help but nod because even when he can’t think straight he knows what answer she’s looking for. “Oh, poor thing. Why don’t I keep you company, then?”
Catwoman’s idea of ‘keeping him company’ is to take the spot that Ivy just vacated, lowering herself down to kneeling over him. She’s a little less impatient than Ivy, though, wanting to tease him more, and she plays with herself a little— rubbing her fingers over her clit as she drips down her thighs and onto his face, giving him a taste of what’s to come, but not quite letting him have it juuuuuust yet.
She wants to watch him squirm a little more, first— and as he strains to try and break free from the vines holding him down, panting like a wild animal, she decides that she very much likes this new and improved Batboy.
Maybe she’ll ask Pamela if that pollen can be bottled. A nice little treat for her to keep on hand any time she can’t quite manage to get away from Batboy. As much as she loves their little role-reversed game of cat and mouse, it would have a much more fun ending if she could ride his cock on a rooftop instead of just slipping off into the night with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek to remember her by.
Finally, she decides to stop teasing him— and herself— and lowers herself onto his mouth.
Batboy reacts instantly.
The way his mouth moves against her is like a man who’s been starving and has been presented with a five-course feast. He moans into her pussy, a whiny sound coming from someone as young as him even though he always tries so hard to make his voice sound deeper, more intimidating.
Apparently that’s what he needs to push him over the edge, because she hears Robin let out a noise of surprise— or as much of one as she can manage when she has Batboy’s cock down her throat— and all of a sudden she’s pulling off his cock and sputtering on the plentiful mouthful of cum he just let out without warning.
The poor girl does her best to swallow all of it, but there’s a lot of it, and it’s thick. Catwoman bites her lower lip at the thought of being filled up with all of that— but she focuses on what she’s doing in the meantime, rolling her hips as she plants her hands on Batboy’s stomach, feeling the way his muscles twitch under her as he puts his all into pleasing her.
If only he could be this agreeable all the time!
Robin, with the last few spurts of Batboy’s cum decorating her face and chest, sits there panting with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. The longer she goes without pleasure, the more her brain starts to turn into a sharp static, making her feel like an animal in heat that would do anything just to be able to get a dick inside of her.
But even though Batboy’s cock doesn’t soften at all after he cums once— because of the pollen, maybe?— when she reaches out to grasp his cock, hoping to be able to slake her body’s thirst, a vine grabs her around the waist and yanks her back so hard all of the breath rushes right out of her.
Head spinning from the combination of sensations, and the pain enough to distract her for the briefest of moments from the throbbing heat in her core, she looks up at Poison Ivy on her makeshift throne, legs spread like she’s waiting.
“You still haven’t earned your turn,” she says, and Stephanie doesn’t really understand what she’s saying, but as Poison Ivy’s hand in her hair guides her mouth towards her pussy, she understands what she’s supposed to do.
Although Catwoman is caught up in what she’s doing, she can’t help but spare a glance over in her friend’s direction when she hears her let out another warbling moan. Leave it to Pamela to already be hungry for a second round, and from the way she mashes Robin’s face into her cunt and smears her juices across her lips as she grinds against her mouth, there’s a desperation building in her now. Figures— she always acts so high and mighty, like sex is just a tool for her to use against weak-willed men, but one taste of pleasure has her yowling like a cat in heat.
Not that Catwoman is judging her at all, of course not. After all, the only thing that’s stopping her from screaming her pleasure to the ceiling is the fact that she’s practically holding her breath in order to hold herself at the peak without tipping over the edge for just a moment longer.
Finally, though, her body wins out over her desire to drag things out longer, and along comes the scream of pleasure as she cums all over Batboy’s face.
“Oh, godddd, yes!” She grinds down against him like his mouth is the best sex toy ever, and it feels like her orgasm is going on forever, until finally the pleasure starts to die down and leaves her with a pleasant throbbing in her pussy and two very shaky legs. “My my, Batboy… I think you’re going to be very popular with the ladies when you get older.”
The only reason she can even hold on to that much composure to be able to tease him like that (even though she’s pretty sure he’s so far gone into ‘horny feral animal’ territory that he can’t really process what she’s saying) is because she’s absolutely not done with him yet, and Selina Kyle is not the sort to just throw in the towel because she can barely manage to stand on her own two feet.
Especially when her friend sitting nearby has her legs wrapped tightly around Robin’s head and is playing with her own breasts as she calls the blonde eating her out a filthy slut and all kinds of other lovely, creative insults that Selina almost wishes she could write down, just to admire how… Unique they are.
Now, all she has to do is just sit down on that Batboy cock and she can rest assured that she’s gotten exactly what she wants—
That thought is interrupted by the sound of something… Tearing?
Selina turns to see what might be going on behind her, but she doesn’t have a chance to react at all to the sight of Batboy tearing himself free of the vines holding him to the floor before he pounces on her and sends them both sprawling to the ground.
For a split second she thinks that maybe the pollen has already worn off, that maybe Batboy was faking it, waiting for a chance to pounce— it definitely seems like something The Dark Knight would do. But rather than trying to wrestle with her and use some kind of Bat gadget or his own two hands to subdue her, he just grabs her thighs, pushing them apart as he gets between her legs.
“H-hey, wait a second—”
Batboy growls in the back of his pre-teen throat as he positions his cock at her entrance, and for the first time since she met the man, she (very momentarily) finds herself just as afraid of him as all of those goons in dark alleys must be every night.
Because he shoves all of his massive cock into her all at once without a single word of warning.
“Ahhh!” Selina cries out to the ceiling. She’s still sensitive from having just cum, but even with how open and wet she is from him eating her out, he’s still big and leaves her feeling like her entire pussy is being stretched out and will never go back to being the same again.
Needless to say, in spite of the surprise, she loves it.
“Hah…” Batboy pants as he leans over her, fucking into her so hard she can feel her back scraping against the floor, and she knows she’s going to be an absolute mess come morning— she doesn’t know if she’s even going to be able to get home after this, because with the way every thrust of his massive cock and slap of his balls against her makes her spine light up, she doesn’t know if she’s going to be able to walk. “Did you think… I was just going to keep letting you do whatever you want…?”
Selina is a little embarrassed to say that she whimpers in the back of her throat at hearing that, and Poison Ivy laughs at her from the other side of the room, a laugh that tapers out into a moan as Robin must do something that she especially likes.
“Hahhh… Looks like you’re getting exactly what you wanted, sweetheart. And look at how nice and tight that cute little ass of his is while he fucks you; shame you can’t see it from that angle,” Pamela all but coos at her, as she rips Robin off of her so she can flip herself over, displaying her ass to the little heroine. “You had better not slack off, or I’ll end up losing my patience with you…”
Stephanie whimpers as Poison Ivy reaches back to part her cheeks, revealing the dark green of her tightly furled asshole. She knows that she’s not really being mind-controlled, because there’s a part of her that wants to resist doing it— but that part is overwhelmed by the horny fog taking over most of her brain, and she leans in to press her tongue against the tight ring, opening it up to make her way inside.
While Poison Ivy is moaning at the feeling of a tongue in her ass, and Robin— seemingly without knowing she’s doing it, just that desperate to get off— has shoved three of her own fingers into herself all at once and started fingering herself fast and hard, the sounds echoing through the rest of the room, Catwoman is having both a much better and much worse time.
Much better because she can’t even remember the last time someone fucked her this good— and much worse because she has absolutely no idea when she managed to completely lose control of this situation.
Her eyes start to roll into the back of her head as her thighs are pushed up until she’s practically bent in half, giving Batboy the perfect leverage to fuck down into her as he digs his fingers into the soft meat of her thighs hard enough to leave bruises. She’s glad that she’s flexible enough to do something like this, because she doubts Batboy would stop even if he were hurting her— he’s too far gone at this point, too much of a horny feral animal to be able to stop himself, even with that whole ‘mercy to my enemies’ thing he has going on.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow,” Batboy says, in that throaty, growling voice of his that is almost comically starting to break into what must be his normal pre-teen tone just from the sheer pleasure of her tight pussy alone.
Tight because it’s rare she can find a man who interests her enough to want to fuck him, but she doesn’t know if she’s going to be able to say that after this. Not when it feels like he’s splitting her open on his cock, almost comically too large for his body (the one thing that it appears his suit wasn’t exaggerating), like he’s going to fuck her until she’s perfectly made into the shape of his cock, a hole for only him to fuck.
…Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on her part.
“Let’s see you— Try to steal things— when you can’t even walk!”
“Ohhhh, yes!” Selina cries out in between panting and moaning. She knows it’s going to sound cheesy before it even comes out of her mouth, but she can’t stop herself from going along with what Batboy is saying. “I’ve been a bad, bad girl… You need to punish me!”
“Get fucked— for justice!”
Selina might have laughed at that, if not for the fact that it’s at that moment that Batboy shoves himself into her so hard she feels the air rush out of her lungs— and that’s exactly what she needs to push her up the slope and over the edge, and all of a sudden every muscle in her body is tensing as she arches her back off the ground, screaming her pleasure to the ceiling as she clenches and gushes around his massive boy cock.
And then she gets to have at least some small taste of what Robin got to swallow just a few minutes ago, as Batboy pumps her full of thick, plentiful cum that leaves her feeling like she’s going to end up looking bloated just from the sheer volume of it.
Selina barely has time to start coming down from the orgasm when she feels a weight land on top of her. It takes a second for her cognitive functions to catch up to what’s going on, leaving her blinking in confusion, until she looks down and sees a head planted right between her tits.
It might almost be endearing, in spite of everything that just happened— and the fact that he’s still inside of her, although she can feel his cock starting to soften, his cum leaking out of her— if not for the fact that he’s so still it almost looks like he’s dead. She has to reach between them to put her fingers to his neck to make sure she can find a pulse just to confirm that he is not, in fact, dead.
On the other side of the room, she hears Ivy cursing a blue streak and calling Robin even more filthy names that Selina thinks would even surprise the guards at Arkham to hear coming out of her mouth, as she mashes the girl’s face into her ass. Robin cries out, the sound muffled by how deep her tongue is buried in Ivy’s ass— but as Ivy starts to cry out,
“Yes, yes, yes, fuck yes, right there, yes—!”
And shudders her way through her second orgasm, Robin goes stiff as a board, practically curling in on herself as best she can with her tongue still buried in Ivy’s ass.
From the sloppy wet sounds that she’s making, it’s obvious that she’s cumming as well, shaking apart on her own fingers without ever having had a chance to get the Bat-dick inside of her that she had clearly been craving— or even being touched by anyone else.
It’s almost enough to make Selina feel sorry for the poor girl. But not quite. Not even when she promptly passes out, landing on the floor with a dull thunk as Ivy relaxes again in the wake of her comedown.
“Are they… Okay?” Selina wiggles her way out from under Batboy, carefully picking him up off of her and laying him down on the floor. She definitely feels sore enough that she thinks she’s not going to be doing much crime tomorrow night— or for a while, until she thinks she can walk around without feeling that constant yet delicious ache in her lower body— but she’s not nearly as incapacitated as she thought she would be.
At least Batboy got what he wanted, though. He should feel proud of himself for that, at least.
“Oh, they’ll be fine… Probably,” Pamela says, which doesn’t sound very certain, though as she gathers both of them up with her vines without moving from her spot, Selina realizes she probably doesn’t care either. “I’m going to keep them here, see if that pollen has any other delightful side effects I should know about… I take it you’re on your way out?”
Even if she wasn’t, the way Ivy says that makes it clear she’s not welcome to stay any longer— and that suits her just fine, because she would much rather get home, slip into a nice hot bath, and just melt into her bed for the rest of the night.
She puts her goggles and mask on, picks her whip up off the floor, and debates grabbing her suit but realizes she’s definitely not going to be able to put it back on or carry it home if she’s also carrying the spoils of her night’s thieving.
And if she has to choose between clothes and a priceless cat trinket, well. As long as her goggles and hood keep her identity hidden, she doesn’t have anything else to worry about, right?
“I’ll be back to pick that up another time,” she says to Pamela as she climbs out through the same window she came in through, gesturing vaguely at her suit— but Pamela just grunts in acknowledgement because she’s too busy considering the captured vigilantes, obviously not really hearing what she just said to her.
Oh well. No skin off her back.
She’s gotten everything she could have wanted from this night and more, after all.