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Another rainy day in Gotham City, and it never rained but it poured. Tim Drake set the windshield wipers in the Redbird to max, the sound of pounding rain momentarily drowned out by a roar of thunder. It would’ve been an apt night to visit Arkham Asylum—the gothic old mansion perfectly suited for such Frankensteinian weather. But he has headed for the Amazonian Embassy, his body flaring up in readiness for its occupants.

He parked and toggled on the car’s camouflage, stepping out into the rain. It was not the cold, harsh flame he might’ve felt at Arkham, but a bracingly cool plunge all around him, thrilling his senses awake like a cold shower would in a dead morning. He let the rain jostle his cape against his back, his spine, his buttocks as he moved into the building.

Every item of his costume served a purpose—enhancing his mystique, hiding a tool, providing a weapon. His boots were specially designed so that, even soaking wet, they did not slip on the tile floor. A small detail to give him a paranormal air as he strode into the well-lit building. Robin was to be more approachable than Batman, but he was still not to be regarded as a mortal.

One of the embassy staff was waiting for him. Not one of the wannabes, one of the followers—an actual Amazon. Her skin had a sort of gleam. Like armor. She nodded tightly to him. “That time again?”

He nodded curtly and she looked him over, her eyes a bit bright with his attractiveness. Amazons were more perceptive than most. She read his emotional state, his recent activities, a quick everything about him much as Sherlock Holmes might. Of course, Tim left little to read, but she still came to an understanding with him. He would be allowed in.

Despite knowing the way through the embassy’s labyrinthine corridors—the specific combination of artifacts and framed artwork in the halls giving tells that an uninvited guest could never read—Tim allowed himself to be led by the Amazon, his footfalls wet but silent.

“It hasn’t been long since your last visit.” Her words were neutral.

“You don’t approve?” Tim asked, equally set on giving nothing away.

“The girls very much enjoy having you. But this shelter isn’t just about rehabilitation, it’s also about discipline. Affection should be earned.”

“I need information. And besides, I might not be able to visit for a while.”

She eyed him over her shoulder.

“You never can tell,” he said, getting an understanding nod.

“Try not to be too sparing with the praise. It’s of great benefit to their progress. And if each of them could have at least two orgasms before you leave, it would do wonders for their self-esteem.”

Tim nodded. They’d ascended a flight of stairs to the top of the building, where the inlaid columns and partly marble walls dead-ended into an ordinary-looking wooden door. The Amazon got the door for Tim, letting him into a room that was like stepping forward a thousand years from the embassy’s Neoclassical style to a very ordinarily 21st-century penthouse.

It was, all in all, much like the usual hide-outs the Sirens favored. Tim’s entry disturbed a cat from milling on the door mat. The walls had a sort of crayon graffiti covering them, drawn in counterpoint to the vines that flowed in and out of the walls. The floor showed signs of having been vacuumed recently, still sliced into segmented lines, but a few toys and guns were strewn around, with a burger wrapper from Crocky’s caught by the air conditioning. Tim followed it down the entryway to the foyer, but he hadn’t taken four steps when Harley careened in front of the corridor’s mouth, bouncing off the far wall to come to a stop.

Her two-tone booty shorts rendered one asscheek red and one black. They were tight enough to do the same to the lips of her labia. Above, she wore a plain white tee that had been ragged torn over the waist, so high up that the lowest curves of her breasts were exposed as well as the full length of her abdomen. Where the shirt was intact, a crude approximation of Batman's face had been drawn over the front, like a child's fingerpainting.

"Robbie!" she cried jubilantly, and hurled down the hallway to him. Tim braced himself, not for an attack, but to take the weight of Harley as she leapt up like a Pomeranian demanding to be held, landing in his arms with her svelte thighs tight around his hips. She kissed animatedly at his face, leaving ruby-red lipstick marks Tim would be sure to wash off before he returned to Batman's War on Crime. "You're home, you're home, you're home!"

Tim pinned her to the wall for a moment, shifting her weight more comfortably as he kissed her back. He could feel her legs clench around him, and one heel give a kick. Then she swooned--it was possible she'd just given herself an orgasm--and Tim picked her up like he was going to carry her over the threshold. She gave a twitch and threw her arms around his neck. "You came to love me... knew ya couldn't stay away..."

"Horny girl, I’ve only been gone four days.”

“Four days without fucking!”

With every excited breath Harley took, her well-rounded tits stretched and distorted the material, abstracting the rendering of Batman into surrealism. The shirt was so tight—and Harley’s breasts just large enough—that the cloth barely ever slackened, just seemed to be pulled thinner and thinner, always one iota away from tearing. Her nipples, jutting into the near-translucent material, seemed determined to provide that iota.

He carried her into the foyer. Harley rubbed lovingly at his arms as he carried her, feeling the dense muscles of his biceps brought out by supporting her. The Nomex survival cloth sheathed his arms when they were at rest, but was built to expand when he flexed, showing the fierce delineation between each well-disciplined muscle group, his biceps light and slender, not bulky, but so hardened and vividly curt—so obvious that there was more power, much more for him to call upon if he truly exerted himself—that it gave Tim a very grounded, capable air. Harley, for all her lusciousness, was obviously light as a feather to his strength.

Mutually assured destruction had kept the foyer mostly spic and span. Ivy's plants stayed on the walls and in a few pots, while Harley's toys filled a chest to overflowing. One of only half-a-dozen cats took a nibble at a hanging plant, and jumped clear before it could bite back.

Next he heard the slightly grating sound of a sliding door opening, Poison Ivy emerging from the balcony and a tanning session. Her breasts were bare, everything was bare, all but a fan palm that had been twisted into a thong, the frond of it covering her genitals, thin green leaves twisting over her wide hips and between the luscious cheeks of her ass, so thin and covering such ripe vibrancy that it reminded him of the stem on an apple.

The sun’s warmth still came off her in a glowing haze. Her hair was in bloom, little bulbs opening inside the ragged wet curls, and the green of her body had darkened to a shade that made her breasts verdant hills, her body a garden at midnight. Against such a background, her thong was downright florescent.

“Hello Robin,” she said, moving in. Harley, still in his arms, hugged herself to Ivy as she kissed Tim. Ivy did it slower than Harley, more thoroughly, giving him plenty of time to feel how her lips were pregnant with sunlight, to imagine that same heat under his hands, around his manhood. Her tongue slowly moved through his mouth, almost teasingly brushing against his, enticing him to more roughly press into her. Her mouth sucked at his bottom lip as she pulled away, running an easy hand through Harley’s hair.

She wore high heels as well, their height putting her nearly half a head taller than him, amusing both of them with the knowledge that she still craved him and not, far more commonly, the other way around. She had smelled him coming, Tim knew. Her plants in a ten block radius scenting his hair gel, his sweat, even the semen in his scrotum. Especially that. They had been well-trained to look for the specific combination that was Robin; far better trained than they’d been to watch for Batman, for Nightwing, for Batgirl. They could only arrest Ivy. Robin could fuck her.

Her breasts pushed lovingly at the flowing red hair that flamed down their plunging slopes and then curled underneath into shadowy fertility. Of course, her hair didn’t cling as tightly to her cleavage as some of the costumes she’d worn, not even the Arkham jumpsuit she’d loosely covered herself with for no other reason than to deny her mammalian enemies the sight of her nudity. But the way it simply and unhurriedly fell across her ample curves—breasts as voluminous and bountiful as fresh birthed flower petals after a spring rain—gave her an innocent, Garden of Eden sensuality spiced with savage naturalism. Her nipples were as jarringly hard as thorns on a rose.

“Finally come back for more? We didn’t tire you out that bad, did we? We were only having a little fun last time.”

“Yeah!” Harley chimed. “We let you off easy last time!”

“Oh?” Tim gave her a little jiggle. “You want me go harder this time?”

Harley looked both nervous and unspeakably aroused. “If you wanna, Mr. Robin, sir…”

“She can’t handle you,” came Selina’s voice, rich with amusement. She slunk in through the window, wearing her famous catsuit, her goggles up but her cowl tightly affixed. As she came up to him, she made no secret of unzipping her leathers, openly displaying herself to Robin before greeting him with a kiss.

Not pressing herself to him as Harley and Ivy had, but taking him with coldly gloved hands on either cheek and pulling his mouth to hers. Then she forced him to her breasts—glossy with sweat, salty with it when he tasted them. He dropped Harley on her ass, grabbed Selina and pulled her tighter to his questing mouth. Got her nipple in his mouth and sucked it hard enough to make her cry out, then let her go.

Selina wobbled in place, breast popping from her unzipped catsuit. She did not wear her normal combat boots, but stiletto heels as high and fashionable as Ivy’s, pushing her body out of a cat’s slinking stealth and into a dominatrix’s raw sexuality, tall and proud. Her breasts were thrown outward, charging against her leather confines with each breath like battering rams, their strong curves enough to dimple even her strong leather into conforming to their voluptuousness instead of the other way around. Her leather-clad breast was as proud and firm as her unbound one, and a galaxy of crinkles shot down her corseted midsection, over her shoulders, and across her arms to compensate for the smoothness forced over her breast by its sheer indomitable size.

She looked over at where Harley was clinging to Ivy’s leg. “Been boring here without you, bird-boy. We’ve had to make our own fun.”

Ivy darkened as well. “You’re being mean, aren’t you Robin? Only coming here because you want to talk shop.”

“Not just that,” Tim said, and subtly canted his hips so Harley would see his hard-on, even through his body armor. She clapped her hands to her cheeks and let out a delighted EEEEEEEEEEEE!

Selina bit her lip, again looking disoriented. “Well, I say he has to play with us before he gets any information!”

“Fine by me,” Tim said. He opened up the hidden catch on his codpiece, undid the nearly invisible zipper. All ten inches of him came out. The women moaned in chorus, seeing it, none of them quite believing it was as big as it had looked and felt the last time he’s visited. But it was. The biggest cock they had ever seen, a monster as thick as Harley’s wrist. He’d stirred with Harley, been half-hard from Ivy, and now that Selina was here, he was fully erect. “Who goes first?”

The nipple on Selina’s exposed breast was rock hard. “Me! Obviously. I have seniority. No one else has been a good girl for as long as I have.”

“What about the Statuette of Bast that went missing from the Gotham Natural History Museum?”

Selina gritted her teeth. “Come ooooon…”

“I’ve been leading nonviolent protests against the degradation of our environment,” Ivy said proudly.

“With mind-controlled activists?” Tim needled.

She folded her arms across her chest.

Harley bounded up from the floor. “I say whoever has the nicest tits should go first!” And she whisked off her T-shirt, displaying her braless tits. Ivy imitated her, striking a pose to brazenly display her cleavage and grinning like a fiend. Even Selina coolly drew aside the other half of her catsuit to let both breasts out from their confinement.

“Don’t make up your mind yet,” Selina husked. “You should really feel them.”

Ivy was quick to offer hers—coming to him in a seductive clinch, but her smile was too open. She was eager to have his hands on her. His hands sunk into her soft flesh, her breasts large and round, the most voluptuous of the trio’s, and she moaned as she felt him begin to squeeze—only barely as rough with her as he could be, as he soon would be.

Harley’s pert cones were next. She pressed herself to him with breasts like candy apples, but springy and firm to the touch. Ivy wouldn’t relinquish him, though. She kept running the heat of her breasts against his chestpiece and he could feel it right through the armor.

Selina came last. Grabbing his hands away from Harley’s body and bringing them to her breasts, not as large as Ivy’s, but silky and firm. And slippery with sweat, new sweat, not from being locked inside a leather catsuit but from her nervous arousal. “You know mine are the best,” she said, clasping her hands over his. “On the floor. We can do it right on the floor…”

The three women pressed in on him on all sides, endless curves surrounding him. They drew him down to the carpet and, next to naked, they crawled all over him, pawing him, kissing him, each wanting to pump her hand on his cock.

Tim said, “You all have perfect breasts. Big beautiful tits to go with your perfect luscious asses, those cock-sucking lips, those tight little pussies… it’s no wonder I can’t choose just one of you to be my girlfriend. I need all three. But Harley, you’ve been a good girl, just like promised you would be. All those assassins gunning for you and you turned them all in to the police.”

“Yeah!” Harley nodded vigorously. “All of them!”

“But her breasts are B-cups!” Selina whinged.

“More than a handful is a waste.” With that, Harley had used up her rhetoric. She straddled Tim, bringing the wet mouth of her sex to his thickly swollen cockhead in another kiss, squealing as it parted and allowed him fully within.

Ivy and Selina backed off, pouting, knowing Tim had chosen. They laid on either side of Tim, watching with growing envy and agitation as Harley jounced along the granite column of Tim’s cock, bouncing on it until she’d gotten it all inside.

“That does take some skill,” Ivy admitted, rubbing her thighs together. Selina scowled at her.

Tim had to agree, letting Harley ride him with her usual violent enthusiasm. Harley’s cunt was tighter than he remembered, throbbing velvet around his deeply buried cock. But then, by the end of their last group therapy session, he had put a lot of work into stretching her out. Good to know she had returned to her former snugness.

“Fuck her, Robin, fuck her hard!” Ivy cried, her volume both from excitement and from how she was fingering herself as she watched. Selina’s scowl deepened, her hands drawn into tight fists, refusing to take pleasure in Harley’s victory.

“Gonnacomegonnacomegonnacomegonnacome!” Harley chattered, throwing herself onto Tim’s cock as hard as she could.

Her eyes were crossed when Tim snorted, grabbing Harley’s tiny waist, holding her still on his throbbing cock. Then he jammed her down onto it, piercing into her farther than she’d ever taken her. With his strength forcing her upon his manhood, Harley was fucked deep and steady. She threw back her head and howled as her orgasm overtook her, its power enough to totally overwhelm her.

“Cock’s… so… big…” she panted as he kept fucking her, her limp body now just a receptacle for the pleasure Tim was pumping into it.

“Don’t take too long,” Ivy whimpered, watching helplessly as Harley sped along to yet another orgasm. She envied her lover with all her heart, but Robin only had one cock and he’d said they would go one at a time.

Harley’s teeth chattered as she was helped to another orgasm, her body going totally boneless, her eyes rolled back in her head. She slipped down onto Tim’s legs, hips still canted with his rock-hard erection inside them, and Tim gestured to Ivy. “Help her up. Turn her around.”

Ivy rushed to obey, picking up Harley, spinning her about to face Tim’s boots, then lowering her again onto Tim’s manhood. Harley revived with a moan, feeling the damp electric shock of his cock widening her snatch all over again, rallying all her energy to wiggle down his shaft, locking it within her tight little cunt. As Ivy held Harley upright, Tim began to buck his hips, Harley smiling dreamily, perhaps only semiconscious, as she was seesawed upon his submerged cock.

Selina snapped then. She bounded up, unzipping her catsuit beyond the crotch, letting the sight and smell of her wet, hot pussy into open air. Just as she could not resist a valuable trinket or a lazily-guarded safe, she couldn’t take seeing how Tim licked his lips, tongue taunting her every time it barely poked out of his mouth. She straddled Tim’s head, a knee at either ear, and looked down at his surprised face.

“I’m told it tastes like honey, little birdie. Time to find out.” Then she brought her cunt down on his face the same as Harley’s was attacking his groin, shaking with the imperious need to find out the feel of his mouth and of his tongue.

Tim opened his mouth before her leather-clad thighs engulfed his head, but Selina wouldn’t hear it. Her sex covered his face and then she was trembling, feeling the scraping of his teeth and the lashing of his tongue. She rocked up and down on his tonguing, reaching up to remove her cowl and run her hands through her sweat-damp hair, down over her gleaming body and breasts, everything that was her feeling damp and fiery. She pulled herself out of her catsuit as Tim’s tongue reached into her womanhood; laughed triumphantly as she pumped at it, presenting her clit to him, naked from the waist up as she gyrated against the tongue that probed her, shooting up the dizzying heights of her building orgasm.

“Hey, I wanted ta kiss him!” Harley moaned, distracting Selina momentary from her pre-orgasmic state. She looked back to see that Ivy had sat down on Tim’s thighs, holding Harley from behind to keep her from being thrown clear by Tim’s rodeo-like rutting.

“Kiss this!” Selina said, slapping her ass, and Harley leaned forward to try before Ivy stopped her. She slapped her ass again, her flowing sex feeding Tim’s hungry mouth, and behind her, Harley came alive to hammer herself to a violent surge of an orgasm. Then she melted into Ivy’s lap, the ecoterrorist petting her fondly as Harley’s hips continued to buck at a cock that was no longer between them.

Ivy purred as she raked her claws down her front, their sharp points drawing red lines to her flaring cunt, until Tim suddenly surged up from her. He threw her to the ground and wrestled himself on top of her, Harley and Ivy joining in to keep Selina’s long, supple limbs from prying her loose.

“That was very naughty,” Tim said. “Tasty, but naughty. Now you’re going to get a time-out.”

“But I haven’t come yet!” Selina whined, belly-down with Harley shoving her face in the carpet as Tim took the whip from her belt and tied a loop in it. He looped first one, then the other end of the whip around her ankles, tightening it, then drawing her feet together and locking them in with a figure eight knot. Selina threw her head around like a cat taking a bath, nostrils flaring, teeth biting at empty air.

“Nice ass, though,” Tim muttered, his eyes sweeping over the full, plump globes that he forced Selina’s feet to. Harley and Ivy held Selina’s hands behind her back as well, more than familiar with how someone was handcuffed, and Tim wound Selina’s whip around her wrists as well. When he was done, Selina was hog-tied, her nipples rubbing torturously against the rough carpet as she struggled. “Relax. You can still watch. And help us get ready. For instance, right now I could really use my cock cleaned.”

Harley giggled as Tim circled around to Selina’s front, using the whiphandle to roll Selina over onto her back. “I need to be nice and hard,” he said, undoing his utility belt, tossing it aside, kicking off his boots, pulling down his armored leggings and trunks. “So you can clean every little bit of me.”

He straddled Selina, his bulging scrotum slapping hotly on her stomach, damply clinging to it—Harley’s juices had flooded all the insides of his thighs. His cock, though, was too erect to press into her and Selina felt a swell of self-pity, even as she flushed in feeling his hairless ass on her skin, close enough to touch if only she weren’t being punished. If her hands were only free, she could grope his ass, she could work his cock, she could make him fuck her like she deserved…

It was savagely perverse. Out of all the Sirens, she was the only one who knew who he was, or at least suspected. If Bruce Wayne was Batman, then Tim Drake had to be Robin. Her boyfriend, her lover, her dom, was a sixteen-year-old boy.

No. Not a boy. A man. And he would only be more of a man as he matured. As he learned how to better dominate the three of them. He already had them so under his thumb that he trusted them with his nudity, with his undone utility belt, with his cock thrusting in and out of their mouths knowing they wouldn’t dare put a single scratch in it. Not when it gave them such pleasure.

And as cock-hungry as the others were, Selina was the horniest of all. Knowing how young he was. Knowing he was Bruce’s adopted son. It was all so wrong that the very thought of it could send her to the shower, or to Harley and Ivy’s single bed—to the handle of her own whip, if both of them were in the shower. There wasn’t room enough for three…

She was dating a teenager and he made her come harder than the Batman, harder than any of her pimps, any of her clients, anyone in Gotham.

And he could see it, could see the hunger in Selina’s eyes as the wrongness struck her and she realized how much she needed him again. Her boyfriend. One day he’d trust her enough—tame her enough—to take her on a real date. When he was eighteen, maybe. The others too, but her first, since she already knew and already could be trusted. She’d buy him tickets to an R-rated movie and play with his cock when the lights went done. She’d take him into a bar, lie down on the bathroom floor, and let him do this with her tits. She’d have him all to herself.

Selina licked at her lips as she felt Tim moving up her body, his balls drawing a straight line up over her stomach, his cock with a bead of precum at its tip. He put her hands on her breasts, the great swell of them almost swallowing his delicate-looking fingers up as his cock came to her cleavage. He pressed her breasts together and they closed around his manhood.

“Nice and hard,” he repeated, his voice thick with lust.

Selina tucked her chin to watch as he began to rut into her, the head of his cock appearing as if by magic inside the sandwiching of her mammoth tits. His precum was dripping enough to make her cleavage slippery, and the slick warmth seemed to burn right down to her core. She could feel how his cock throbbed, and the vibration seemed to go right to her nipples. They throbbed themselves, tingling into almost painful hardness. As much as she was able, she writhed about, trying to add to his pleasure, entice him into filling her where she yearned for cock.

“I love you,” Selina whispered.

Tim fucked harder into her tits, sending them bouncing with his lunges, making them slip out of his grip and slap at his crotch as they bounded. Selina worked her stomach muscles, sitting up a little ways to present her tits better. Frustrated, he slapped at her breasts, stinging blows swiping at Selina’s areolas, making her nipples bloom into savage pleasure. He grabbed her tits again, gloves suddenly shockingly cold, and crushed them on his cock. His cockhead flicked out the top of her cleavage, presenting itself to her face. Selina could scent Harley on it—it smelled just like Ivy’s breath.

“Take it,” Tim growled, grabbing a handful of Selina’s short cropped hair as he released her heaving, sensitive breasts—leaving them burning just short of a small but sweet orgasm.

Selina hissed in outraged surrender before his cockhead was rammed hard into her lips. She tried to draw it out, keep her mouth closed, but the need to obey was too strong. She had to get back into Robin’s good graces. With a groan of need Selina gave in, slackening her lower jaw, allowing Tim to insert himself into her mouth.

“Oh yeah,” Tim sighed, off in another world, his head thrown back in appreciation. “Even if your cunt isn’t tight, at least your throat is.”

His hips pumped back and forth, the other two Sirens enjoying the sight, even holding his cape to the side to watch both the dimpling of his thrusting ass and the way Selina choked, coughed, gagged. Usually, Tim would take it slow, allow her time to adjust to taking the tremendous amount of cock he fed her. Now he just jammed himself inside, degrading Selina by using her as nothing more than a hole to holster his cock in.

Selina’s eyes closed. Old habits die hard, and being used so roughly by Tim was actually arousing her. The warm froth of spittle at the corners of her mouth, it made her feel whorish; knowing Harley and Ivy were watching made it all the sleazier. She felt like an exhibitionist, a pole dancer, a sex show, only she was the only one giving a performance. Tim, controlling and powerful, was getting off on it as she never could. And that turned her on all the more fiercely.

Suddenly Tim shoved himself inside her so hard that she couldn’t breathe. Selina struggled violently, arching her back, squaring her shoulders against the carpet before Tim pulled back. His cock bobbing furiously up and down as soon as it emerged from her lips, glistening with her spit. And still, Selina felt a hunger for it.

“Ivy, it’s your turn now,” Tim said, Ivy shuddering as she was addressed, her body clenching in an almost Pavlovian manner. “Let Selina get you ready.”

“Ready?” Ivy asked. She was more than wet enough now. “Ready for what?”

Tim smiled at her and Ivy felt herself grow still wetter. “You’re already my slut. Now you’re going to be my anal slut. Kneel down.”

Ivy did, just where Tim indicated, in front of Selina. Without a word, Tim roughly shoved her down so that she was prostrate before him, then seized her voluptuous ass, fingers clawing into her cheeks before spreading them open. Suddenly, her rosy anus was exposed to Selina.

“Get her ready,” Tim told Selina, using his knee to roll her onto her belly.

Selina felt a rush of sluttish excitement as she obeyed, knowing that it was not just because she was submissive to Robin, but because she was a whore, a slut, a sex-starved nymphomaniac, and she loved being put to whatever use she saw fit. She leaned forward and licked aggressively between Ivy’s cheeks, Pamela gasping heavenly before Selina’s tongue forced its way inside her ass.

“Good girl,” Tim praised, and Selina felt herself tighten. Especially when he moved to help her, rubbing at Ivy’s anus with his thumb as Selina lapped at it. Then entering her. Then circling her anal entrance as Selina licked at Ivy’s perineum, helping to relax her as Tim stretched her out, preparing her for his cock. Which Harley was jerking on with a spit-soaked palm, preparing it as well.

Selina moaned in almost-orgasm she remembered that, just like Ivy, just like Harley, she was Tim’s bitch. They thought alike, worked together because they were all his harem, and as one they would wring out all they could from their man. They would give him all the pleasure there was in their beautiful bodies, and bind him to being their master. They wouldn’t let anyone else give him the pleasure that was theirs to bestow, because they couldn’t get the paradise of his fucking from anyone else.

Right in front of Selina, Tim rose up and mounted Ivy, putting his hard, slick cock to her open and lubricated ass, pushing his cockhead savagely into the clenching sphincter. Selina gaped as she watched even Ivy’s most virginal, taboo place give way in submission.

Ivy too gaped as she felt Tim’s determined pressure on her asshole. Her own body yielding to his advance before her mind could even process it. The stretching and expansion of her unexplored tightness before Tim slid into her far more easily than any of them had imagined. She released her held breath in a tiny gasp.

“So good,” she moaned, “so big!”

Harley dropped belly-down in front of Ivy, chin steepled on her hands like a teenage girl taking a phone call as she watched Ivy’s goddess face contort between exertion and pleasure. Tim pushed himself deeper into her throbbing hole, the muscles there finally tested, holding to his prick with the grip of a hundred fingers.

“Can you take it all?” Harley asked, instinctively slotting back into her role of psychotherapist. She knew that Tim knew what he was doing, but didn’t know how aware he was of Ivy’s best friend needs.

Ivy nodded, eyes shining with gratitude at the question. And at how Tim had paused the moment he saw Harley think to ask. Then she answered again, seizing Harley’s hands for support.

“Make me take it,” she told him. “Destroy me with it.”

He pushed another inch to join the four already holding her open. A bead of sweat ran down from her hairline and Harley licked it up before looking at Tim, her eyes glazed with as much lust as his.

“Is her asshole good, Tim?” she asked breathlessly. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” he hissed, barely able to drag his swollen shaft from her tight ass far enough to jab it back in, sending her hips into a helpless reply of jerks and wiggles. Harley reached behind Tim for Ivy, hands pressed into his muscular back, demanding him deeper.

Tim obeyed in spades, hurtling back into her, far beyond previously occupied territory. Ivy’s eyes flared wide, feeling his cock filling her ass, her belly, exploding into her throat, huge, wonderful. A single bleat of shock from her, but her mouth kept gaping soundlessly after—he was pulling his engorged length out again, then returning it with a violence that slapped his balls against her soaked cunt.

Ivy was suddenly deathly afraid, terrified that he would stop, teaching her a lesson as he had Selina. She wanted him to stay inside her. She wanted him to fuck her until he came. She wanted his seed filling her so full that she would never taste of anything else—that the next time Selina ate her ass, she would remember how Tim had fucked her and she’d gotten all his cum. And so she begged.

“You’re so good! You’re so much better than Batman! He could never do this—make me beg for his cock, make me beg for his cum! Only you! You’re the only one who could tame all us sluts, make us all your little bitches! Fuck me! Fuck us all!”

Tim had intended to drag it out, give Ivy the many orgasms she deserved before ever thinking of spilling his load. He hadn’t anticipated how good Ivy felt, how unbelievably good she was, how tight, how wet, clasping and loosening in just the perfect measure, or the gyrations she put him through, fucking back at him with the rhythm and cadence of a natural, building up a friction that was too torrid to resist.

“I can’t,” he grunted, even as he kept hammering between her quivering thighs. “Can’t!”

He wasn’t going to finish alone, though. Reaching behind him, he grabbed the whiphandle that held Selina’s bonds like a leash and dragged her up next to him. With Harley, he just had to pat the ground on his other side and she scrambled over. That same hand twisted upward, ring and middle finger extended, and Harley squatted onto it. Tim eased the same fingers on his other hand into Selina’s boiling hot box. All three women were moaning, an overlapping chorus that only grew as they heard the others’ pleasure.

“Earn my cum,” Tim panted. “All three of you…”

Harley was bouncing up and down on his stiff fingers, Ivy was pistoning her ass around his cock, even Selina moaning and crying out as she writhed around his fingers. Tim was in pure bliss. He snorted, hammering his cock and fingers into literally all the fantastically tight holes he could get his hands on.

“Yes, Robin, do it to us!” Ivy moaned.

“Deeper, Robbie! Faster! Harder!” Harley squealed.

“Fuck me! Fuck me with all your fingers!” Selina howled.

Tim was no stranger to resource management; for once, he was glad for the ridiculous training Bruce put him through. He kept his fingers and his cock going at the same hard rhythm, the girls almost sobbing as they realized that each of them was feeling roughly the same thing. They writhed with pleasure: Harley and Selina drenching his hands with their molten juices, while Ivy came so hard she squirted on the floor. She was actually reaching behind herself to hold her asscheeks open for him.

“So good,” she panted, “all three of us…”

“And still room for one more!” Harley giggled, looking longingly at Tim’s mouth. She wondered what Roxy Rocket was up to.

Tim ignored her. All he could think about just then was the two searing little cunts tugging and sucking at his fingers, the asshole that was accepting his pistoning cock like it’d been built for it. He knew it was time for him to lose control of himself.

“Gonna come!” he warned.

“Make us come too!” Selina fired back, the implicit thread dismissed by how hungrily she moaned between words.

Tim finger-fucked his girls at lightning speed, hammering his cock into Ivy’s ass even faster, almost throwing her across the floor with the impact, but Harley was holding her down desperately. All three women were screaming with excitement. It was time.

“Who’s are you?” he demanded, and gritted his teeth as they came for him one by one.

Selina’s cunt clamped down on his fingers as she wailed: “I’m yours! I’m Robin’s!”

Harley’s tight little cunt almost broke his fingers in two as she came: “I’m coming! I’m coming for you—my Robin—ohhhh!”

“Oh, fuuuck, me too!” Ivy gasped, going into a violent convulsion of ecstasy. “I’m Robin’s bitch too!”

They were all coming. No reason for Tim to hold back. He let out a bellow and pulled free of Ivy, then yanking on her leg so she was jerked underneath him, Harley rushing obediently to his cock as well.

“I want some too, I want some too!” Selina pleaded as the first thick stream of cum shot from Tim, catching Harley squarely in the face.

She opened her mouth, eyes begging for more, but Tim turned his cock on Ivy next, spewing his seed over her neck and cheeks. They were both coming, still, jerking and clinging to each other as he graced them both, again and again, with spectacular lashes of cum from his raging cock. Before he was finished, he felt like he’d poured out ten gallons.

Tim reached out to Harley with his hand, smearing his cum over her face, doing the same with Ivy. Stroking their lips with his fingers next, letting them suck his gloves clean. He let one suck while he wiped at the other, cleaning off Harley’s cheeks as he fed Ivy, both lapping up every drop he gave them.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever,” Harley said through her mask of cum. She and Ivy licked at the same finger.

Finally, he was done, except for the flushed Selina looking up at him expectantly. It was a good thing the penthouse was soundproof. They’d made enough noise to be heard on Paradise Island, let alone its embassy.

“I need some cum,” Selina begged. “I need it!”

“There’s plenty for you here,” Tim said, once more manhandling her in front of his cock. “I’m dirty again. So you get to clean me off all over again.”

Selina stared at his cock for only a moment before obeying. Her tongue slipped wetly around it, wiping the head clean, then the shaft. Her lips clung wetly to his inches, massaging his shrinking cock as she slipped it in and out of her mouth. Selina’s head moved faster, mouth swallowing the fatness of his cock as it throbbed anew. She sucked him in and let him slide back out. Tongue thrilling his cock with its long, swooping strokes up and down his shaft.

Tim was shocked to find himself coming again—a weaker effort, but enough to give Selina a gulp of cum all her own. She lovingly pulled it from his cockhead before resting her forehead on the ground.

“Good girl,” Tim said, patting her upthrust rump. He undid the whip and Selina’s limbs splayed outward, totally limp. Still, she managed to lift her head.

“Since I was a good girl… will you fuck me like a good girl? Please?”

“My cock’s a little out of commission at the moment,” Tim admitted, “but my tongue’s working just fine.”

Selina was already moaning happily, rolling over to present her sex. “Eat my pussy. Please eat my pussy.”

“Alright. But you have to tell me about Mr. Arkham. And if it’s not good information, you don’t get to come.”

“And can I suck your cock?” Harley asked. “Since I was so good?”

“Sure, Harley. Selina got it all clean for you.”

“I could make a few calls,” Ivy said. “And maybe if I find something out—“

“I could fuck your ass again?”

“No… I want you to fuck Harley’s ass. While I fuck her pussy. I want us to make her come together.”

“Alright. But stay here while you phone. I want to play with your tits while I wait to fuck Harley’s ass.”

Ivy shuddered in delight. Her breasts would be even more sensitive than usual, knowing they belonged to Robin. And soon, he would have a lot more cum for Harley’s asshole.

Then they would both taste like him. Just another way of knowing they were his.

His good girls.

Tim sighed as Ivy fell down alongside him, becoming his little spoon, her breasts heaving almost too hard for him to massage. Rehabilitation was a dirty job, but someone had to do it.