Batwoman: Desperate Measures - 4 (Patreon)

Another crisis, another ugly dance with Edward Nygma.

Kate dreaded seeing the Bat signal in the sky. But she dreaded the trek over to the bastard’s apartment even more. By the time she was crawling in through his open window, it felt like stones had settled in her belly.

As always, he’d been waiting for her. Sitting on a recliner in the corner of his otherwise sparse living room. The dim light reflected off of the lenses of his glasses, casting his eyes in white. His smile, though… his rotten intent couldn’t be any clearer.

“Strip.” He commanded. “Everything off. Except for the mask, of course.”

Kate hated how easy following his orders had become. 

With only so much as a grimace, the Batwoman began to undo the clasps of her suit. Zippers were tugged down, laces came undone, and plate by bulletproof plate she bared herself to the bastard’s hungry eyes.

All the while, the stones in her gut rolled and tumbled together. Grinding against her insides. As she slid off the last pieces of fabric of her Batsuit, they turned to serpents, writhing and coiling in the pit of her belly.

Clad in only her mask, Kate stood before The Riddler. Even behind the whites of his glasses, she could feel his eyes roaming, devouring her nude form. She felt shame stabbing at her heart and her gut. But also other feelings too. Feelings she didn’t want to think about. She pushed them away, far into the darkness of her mind.

Meanwhile, Nygma leaned forward in his chair. He reached out, gently brushing the tips of his fingers over her tummy. He let out an appreciative whistle.

A tremble of revulsion traveled up Kate’s spine. She tried her best to hide it.

“I meant what I said before…” Nygma gave a short, dark laugh. “You Bats sure do keep yourself in good shape.”

Kate did not answer. She kept her lips pressed tight together, breathing slowly as Nygma took her silence as an invitation to continue. Both of his hands were upon her now. Not groping and pawing like she expected, but slowly, gently drawing his fingers and palms over her pale skin. 

His touch was heat upon her body, flickering embers dancing across her belly, up her thighs, over her hips. He was exploring her now. Like she was his plaything. Taking his sweet time as he did - no doubt because there were no other women who would let him get within five feet of-

Kate sucked in a breath, shivering against her will. Nygma had reached around to palm one of her buttocks. He let out a pleased hum before drawing his hand back to her flanks. The Batwoman bit back a curse. She hated him. She hated herself for allowing it. And she hated her body for betraying her.

There was the faintest blossom of warmth as he groped her behind. One that Kate couldn’t ignore. Her cheeks felt glowing hot. She hoped her mask would hide it.

This isn’t supposed to feel good.

“Just lovely…” Nygma murmured. His hands ghosted upwards, his fingertips just barely grazing the undersides of her breasts. Kate’s nostrils flared. She fought the urge to squirm out of his reach. He was looking up at her then, but she didn’t dare meet his eyes. “I think it’d be fun for us to play a little game. Wouldn’t you agree?”

His voice was soft, but his tone had all the sweetness of acid.

Kate bit her tongue, feeling a surge of anger twisting up through her belly. The Riddler was smiling now, an infuriating visage. She wanted to break his teeth. She wanted to do worse than that to the rest of him. Her bottled-up fury could not be missed. And that only made The Riddler’s smile grow.

She knew his putrid type. Men like him loved to have power over women like her.

“Are you asking me… or… are you telling me?” Kate forced out, grimacing as Nygma’s fingers continued playing upon her bosom. She tensed as his digits glanced at the very edge of her nipples. Hard from the cold, they were too sensitive. Damning her to such torture.

“I was just being polite.” Nygma answered calmly. “I wanted to know your thoughts.”

“You don’t want to know my thoughts.” Kate shot back without raising her voice.

The man laughed. A bark that ripped through the flat droning of his apartment. It was a sound that made Kate feel sick, angry, and other sorts of things. His hands fell back to her flanks now, sliding down to her waist and hips. His touch maddeningly tingled upon her bare skin, even more so as his palms slid around… back to take delight of her well-formed ass.

“Still so feisty.” Nygma chuckled. She could hear the grin in his words. “I love that. Makes this so much sweeter. Sit in my lap.”

Kate’s stomach fell. She knew she could not disobey. Not with lives on the line. It had gotten to the point where Kate wanted to curse Gotham, curse the innocents who couldn’t help themselves. And she hated herself for it.

Steeling her nerves, she turned and sat on his lap. His hands settled on her hips again as she settled in. They reached around, his palms roaming across her tummy again. But worse than even The Riddler’s dreaded touch was what she felt beneath her.

Prodding against her ass was something long and hard. She could feel it, feel how hot it was, even through the fabric of his pants. It was throbbing, swelling with his blood.

Eddie Nygma’s big fucking cock.

Not even the man’s roaming hands could distract her from the one-eyed beast twitching against her ass. Then his voice was slithering into her ear and his hot breath came creeping upon the back of her neck.

“So about that game… I was thinking of making it interesting.”

Kate closed her eyes, the heavy stones of dread sinking even deeper into her gut. One of Nygma’s hands fell to her hip, planting upon her body possessively. Kate shuddered at his touch, disgust and anger flaring up hot. But she kept still, fighting back those righteous urges, that craving she felt to turn upon this scrawny creep and break him.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” Kate said coldly.

Nygma chuckled again, dark with wicked intent. The hand on her hip slid forward, his fingers edging over her lower belly… closer and closer to… to…

“I’m going to put my hands to work.” He told her, keeping his touch just shy of her pussy. His other hand rose to cup one of her breasts, playing upon the soft, sensitive mound. Kate breathed in, taking every effort to keep herself composed. “I’m going to make you feel good.”

Kate wanted to sob. Rage stewed in her heart, but shame weighed even heavier in her gut. It revolted her the way he touched her, but her nerves did not care for her disgust. They came alive under his hands the way they would for Maggie or any other woman she had taken to bed. A betrayal that stabbed deeper than even her most humiliating defeat.

Nygma continued, mockingly polite.

“I’ll give you ten minutes. If you can hold out the whole time… and I can’t make you come… then I’ll help you catch my copycat. No strings attached.”

Kate opened her eyes. It was too good to be true. The kind of man Nygma was… he’d never give up having a Bat under his boot. 

But perhaps… just maybe… he had grown a bit too confident?

No. It’s too simple.

“What’s the catch?” Kate sneered as Nygma began playing with her nipple. She winced as he rolled the hard peak between his fingers… and sent a spike of heat straight down to her core.

Nygma let out an appreciative hum.

“Glad you asked. If your body betrays you… and I make you come… then we take this arrangement to the next level. Deal?”

He was offering her a nightmare. And he was offering her freedom.

She wanted to say no. She wanted to curse him. She wanted to spit in his face.

Seconds passed, feeling like eternity. And all the while Kate Kane agonized.

It was no choice at all. But it was the only lifeline she had.

“Deal.” She answered… and sealed her fate.

Nygma made a pleased grunt. 

“Attagirl.”

Then he slid his hand between her legs. Kate gasped, pitching forward in the man’s lap as she was struck by a rush of white hot feeling.

The Riddler was true to his word. He put his hands to work upon Kate’s naked body. While one fondled her tit, the other delved into the heat between her thighs. Touching, probing, sliding over her folds - each stroke flickering at her insides like fire. Kate breathed out, shivering, then sucked in more air. Her own hands sought something, anything, her fingers wildly grasping at the recliner’s arm rests to keep herself steady.

She squirmed in his lap, feeling that damnable heat grow in her belly. Nygma, the bastard, only worked his fingers even more deftly in response. Even worse than his touch was the dreadful fact that he was skilled. Kate couldn’t deny it even as she loathed him now more than ever. How a worm like him had become so attuned to a woman’s body was anyone’s guess - but Kate cared little for the answer. She was using every last bit of her willpower to keep up the facade of control.

Sensation was taking hold, an iron grip upon her body. It was putrid delight that coiled in the depths of her body, wiggling like tendrils against her insides. Kate huffed, shivering. Determined not to make a sound, not to give Nygma anything to satisfy his wicked desires, she clung to the belief that she would succeed. She would keep control of her body. She would be free.

But then his lips were at the back of her neck, brushing over sensitive skin. Soft like flower petals, burning like fire. Almost like the way Maggie would kiss her.

Kate choked back a moan.

“Hmm.” Nygma drew his fingers away from her cunt. They were slick as he brushed them against her thigh. “A bit wet already. I thought you Bats were supposed to have some discipline.”

The Batwoman did not rise to his taunt, instead gritting her teeth as the man quickly returned his fingers to their wicked task. He continued pawing at her breasts as well, each grope stirring up revulsion and pleasure in equal parts. Both sensations coiled together like serpents, making a knot in her belly.

Fuck.

He was more than skilled. He was good.

The realization burned in her mind like poison.

Minutes had passed. Surely they were close to the end. All she had to do was hold on. Just a bit longer.

“F-fu… fuck…” Kate shivered again, her body tensing and relaxing and tensing again. Nygma’s fingers sank into her cunt, each stroke edging her further into madness. “Oh… uh… h-hah!”

“You hanging in there?” The man asked, sounding all too pleased.

Kate didn’t even have it in her to feel rage anymore. The knot in her gut was tightening and the heat was now a full blaze. Consuming her from the inside out. Her whole body was hot, every nerve alive and dancing. She hated it.

But she needed more.

“Just… keep going.” She seethed at the bastard.

He laughed. But he complied.

“So eager.” He teased.

His fingers worked faster, his thumb pressing at her clit for good measure. That made her moan. It spilled from her lips easily and without struggle. Her cheeks burned with shame… or was it something else?

Kate hated the sensations rolling through her body. She hated Nygma’s touch. She hated that it felt good. 

But above all, she hated herself. Not just for failing. But for the tiniest spark in the back of her mind when it happened. The undeniable thrill.

The Batwoman lost and lost hard. She came then, moaning and shivering like a whore on The Riddler’s lap. It pierced through her body, ripping through her nerves with blistering ecstasy. Nygma held her tight, planting a hand on her hip to keep her steady as she bucked against his probing fingers. She hated herself for that, too. For being desperate. For craving more.

Nygma was more than happy to draw out every bit of pleasure. Even as she was coming, his fingers continued their torture. Stroking, stroking, each brush driving her voice higher and higher. Until she was screaming. By the end, Kate’s cunt was soaking wet and gushing.

“Fuck! Fuck! God!” She cried.

Kate knew it hadn’t been ten minutes. She just knew.

She lost. The Batwoman lost. Again.

Her eyes were closed tight. But even in the darkness of her own making, she could not hide from the truth. She could still feel his hands upon her. She could still feel his lips grazing at the back of her neck.

His kisses stung as much as they delighted. Each peck was a reminder to Kate of her failure. But she didn’t stop him. She no longer had the strength for that. Nor the will. When he pulled his fingers from her traitorous pussy, Kate whimpered.

Pathetic.

“What a mess.” He joked.

“Fucker.” She snapped. 

The tiniest bit of anger flared up again. Enough for her to untangle herself from his arms. She stood up on shaky legs, her whole body buzzing.

“Hey, I gave you the chance to win. You couldn’t hang on. You gave in.” He countered calmly. His words stabbed at her, piercing through her rage. And immediately her defiance wilted. Replaced with shame. Embarrassment. 

He wasn’t wrong. She didn’t just fail. She had let go.

Nygma was smirking. No doubt her feelings were written clear on her face - even through her mask.

“Felt good, didn’t it?” He sank back into his chair, triumph gleaming behind his glasses.

Kate didn’t answer. She just wanted to leave. She moved over to the discarded scraps of her Batwoman outfit, snatching a boot from the floor.

“Let’s just go. We have a bomb downtown-”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Nygma’s voice was firm, expectant. Kate breathed in… and obediently turned around.

The Riddler remained seated, holding up one of his hands. Dread sank into the pit of Kate’s belly again, deeper than ever.

It wasn’t his hand that he was offering, but rather his fingers. The ones still slick with the nectar of her cunt.

The message was clear in his eyes and in his wicked smile.

Time for clean-up.