Stealing Robin (Patreon)

Selina noticed some of Harley’s clothes scattered about the hideout. Once, the prospect would’ve intrigued her with the idea of Harley running around naked—once, Harley would’ve been doing just that—but now, all she could think to do was carry them to the hamper. Tomorrow was laundry day, and she had no desire to confront a cold bed just yet.

Before she abandoned the jean shorts and crop top, she checked the pockets. There was nothing in the cups of the bra, just the smell of tobacco. Harley didn’t smoke, but Joker’s goons did. Selina rummaged through the pants pockets next. She nodded safely to herself, proud that she’d looked. There was a folded up snatch of paper. Harley was always writing things down, her memories being what it was, but she wasn’t always forgetting she’d written down something to remember. Selina wondered what it was. ‘Remember, you’re a doormat’?

She unrolled the paper. Then dropped the note. It fluttered to the floor. “For fuck’s sake,” she said, shuddering. Her vision went black for a moment and she didn’t know if she was still standing. She couldn’t feel her feet and she nearly fell before she got her legs back under her. When she recovered her foot, she rubbed together the fingers that had been holding the incriminating letter.

Batman and Talia… a child… Selina didn’t know how the Joker had found out, how Harley had found out from him, why Harley would tell Ivy…. Selina rubbed her mouth with her fingers, almost wanting to burst into tears. But she couldn’t. It was as if her body was withholding her energy, her concentration. She stooped to recover the letter, lost her foot, fell on her hip. Then she picked up the note and read it again. It was definitely Harley’s handwriting. Who else would use crayon?

Anger blazed in Selina. She was glad the mirror was over her head, out of sight. Her reflection would not be an attraction one. It would be of a woman outraged, a woman determined to get back at her betrayer.

And it wasn’t long before she knew just how to do it.

***

Oswin Cobblepot took off her make-up. The face that was now reflected in the mirror over the sink was not as aggressively beautiful as before, with lipstick and eyeshadow and rouge gone, but it wasn’t a plain face by any means. She had good bone structure, clear and creamy skin. Her body was full-figured, she made no apology for that, but observing it in a nude state, Oswin saw nothing wrong with it. Her broad shoulders sloped into large breasts that would only fit in this voluptuous frame, 34GG cups, and still remarkably perky. Her waist slightly hourglassed into a dimple before broad thighs and wide, child-bearing hips. Her legs were strongly built, well-defined, with nothing even close to a thigh gap. She was an old-fashioned, Marilyn Monroe beauty, her ample belly and body just meant for a rough, strong fucking. More cushion for the pushing. She wasn’t one of those twig women that would break in half the moment they were penetrated. Her flesh was meant to take a pounding, either in battle or in bed.

Her phone rang. Oswin answered it, loosening the knot of her bowtie. It was Selina. She was shouting, then hacking off into sobs, then shouting more. And then something that sounded quite like chocolates being devoured. Poor girl. She was in a sharp way.

“Slow down, cat, I can’t understand you. Who’s having a baby? Oh. Talia al Ghul? We are quite sure it’s not all in the family, so to speak? You know, her and that stately ruffian father of her seem quite cavalier about codependency… ah. Batman, you say? I wouldn’t have thought him the type to be affianced. He certainly doesn’t seem like he’s having regular intercourse… no, no, I’m aware you and he have some bond. Poor taste abounds in this city. Oh, you want revenge? Well now, I’d be happy to help. Have you considered how you’d like to do it? Might I make a suggestion?”

***

Of course, she knew who Batman was. The number of times she’d knocked him out, how could she not take a blood sample, peek under the mask, get the fingerprints. Of course, she recognized Bruce Wayne, and it stood to reason his protégé would be Dick Grayson, the little adopted brat. She could make Batman’s identity worldwide news with one phone call.

But the thing was—a rising tide lifted all ships. As much as she detested the Bat for interfering in her schemes, she appreciated someone stopping Mr. Freeze from turning the city into an ice cube, or the Joker from flooding it with laughing gas, or any of a number of other destructions that would be fairly inconvenient for her. So she kept Batman around, in large part to keep the stalemate going between her and the other Rogues, and she bided her time. But now, she knew just what to do.

She already knew where Dick lived, a cozy little bit of on-campus housing—obviously intended by Wayne to keep him clear of any attack on the manor. It was a cinch to break into it, the place was dependent on obscurity, not security, and her old burglaring tricks came in handy, as well as all the time spent around Catwoman—one of the rare freaks who shared her refinement and good taste.

Inside, she gratefully noticed that the place wasn’t the pig-sty of a great many college boys. And another thing: clearly, studying all day and fighting crime all night took it out of a growing boy. He’d come in, crawled into bed, and slipped out of consciousness while still wearing the costume. His little ninja toe-socks stuck out from under the covers, while his cape dangled off the side of the bed along with the sheets.

Oswin observed him close. He wasn’t really a man, she thought, though he assuredly liked to think of himself as one. She doubted if he could be a day over seventeen. His profile, laid out like a slab atop the pillow he was cradling, was wonderful. Good nose, strong chin, a high straight forehead that rose up to be lost in a mop of dark hair, still damp with sweat.

Moving quickly, with the same certainty her hands had displayed in picking the lock in the first place, she placed a small diadem, barely more than a gold circle, around Dick’s forehead. Her touch was too gentle for him to wake.

The item was deliberately meant to be ambiguous. It was shaped vaguely in the laurels of a wreath, reminiscent of Maxie Zeus, but was also packed with the technology of the Mad Hatter. Poison Ivy’s pheromones coated the surface, not in undue amount, but merely enough to raise the blood pressure, heat the flesh, make one more… amenable.

“Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you,” Oswin sang, slowly sultry, sitting on the side of Dick’s bed like a mother hovering over a sick child. “Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams whatever they be. Dream a little dream of me…”

And under the covers, Dick began to stiffen…

***

Dick remembered the first time he’d jacked off. It hadn’t been for the longest time—he’d heard about it, but never felt the urge to try it, until he’d started dating and gotten the urge to do more than that and then the urge to masturbate didn’t seem so bad. And still, he hadn’t dared download anything off the internet. Knowing Barbara made him too paranoid for that.

So he’d gotten his hands on a skin mag, ninja stealth coming in very handy, leaving the proper amount on the counter with no fingerprints left behind. Then, when he’d been home alone, he’d paged through it, done what came naturally, and thought no more of it until Alfred found where he’d hidden the magazine and he wished he’d burnt it.

In the dream, though, the centerfold wasn’t paper and ink, but alive. And it wasn’t some young actress trying to kickstart her career, but Oswin Cobblepot. She wore nothing but a monocle, a top hat, and a cigarette in its holder. She also carried an umbrella, though, opened directly at the viewer to cover the middle of her body, so he only saw her from the collarbone up and the thighs down.

He knew there’d be more to see if he turned the page, but this view seemed special, somehow. Three-dimensional, like a magic eye picture, and if he just turned it the right way, he’d be able to see over the umbrella, under it, somehow safe crack his way to the voluptuous curves silhouetted by the thin canopy.

Then he saw Oswin pull the umbrella in, unshuttering her full, voluminous breasts and powerful thighs all at once. The half-hard stiffness Dick had felt at the prospect of her nudity was suddenly shocked into high erection. He petted his hardness through his jeans, the denim making his stiffness painful, as he watched Oswin lower her closed umbrella and dig its tip into the ground, leaning on it. The bulge of it running between her legs hid her sex, but Dick didn’t feel he was missing out at all.

Her breasts—as big as his head, a pair of healthy melons grown ripe on the nourishing vine of her body—fell forward, heavy, soft enough to jiggle in little waves, their heft obviously ponderous. He could see the blue veins beneath the almost alabaster surface, the pale red nipples standing out on wide areola, a sense of perkiness evident despite the teats’ pendulousness. They did not sag, but obeyed gravity with a kind of grudging defiance, jiggling with every stirring of Oswin’s healthy musculature.

With all her weight on the umbrella, her arms in a V that squeezed her tits between them, Dick felt as if space had shifted. Like he was looming off the page, hovering over him, her breasts being gently lowered to his face like a saucer of cream being tilted up and up and up, the rim approaching his lips, ready to feed him his juicy fill… or like balloons slowly losing their buoyancy, drifting back to earth though from all appearances they were as full and as light as ever…

Dick’s fumbling hand finally got his buckle unpronged. He whipped his belt out of its loops, letting the motion throw it aside, and then he jerked down his zipper. The bulge of his cock sprung out, already straining against his cotton underwear, and with one last bite of discomfort, he worked the flaps aside so that his erection was in open air, facing the beauty with the indomitable spirit of an icebreaker approaching a frozen sea.

“Don’t my tits look nice, Dick?”

Dick took hold of his cock and jerked it and it felt better than holding a Batarang, better than driving the Redbird, better than anything else that’d ever fit in his palm, and it barely fit in his palm.

He nodded. Jerkily.

“You know what would make them look even better?”

Dick had no idea and could say nothing anyway, his jaw clenched, his body rictus-still except for stroking hand, the pleasure of it breaking in burning waves through his burning body.

“Your cum, Dick. If their cum was all over them. Dripping off them. I could just…” Oswin lowered her head, her tongue extended, and she licked the slope of her breast from just over her heart right down to the very nipple, lifting the orb up just so it could reach her mouth.

Dick watched her suck her own nipple and would’ve given anything, anything, to be able to do that too.

He jerked awake, reality damp with unreality. Was that right? Jerking off to the thought of the Penguin? She might’ve been hot, but she was a criminal, a killer… but he couldn’t think of coming without picturing her tits, couldn’t picture her tits without remembering the first geyser of cum as he’d seen them in that magazine, tits that reminded him of hers, that were hers, his ejaculation covering the page, soaking it like he wished he could soak the real thing.

Then he saw Oswin. She was standing at the foot of the bed, completely nude, her hands folded in front of her groin, hiding her pussy. This time, the vee of her arms hid her breasts more than anything else, but Dick didn’t care about them anyway. Now all his attention was on Oswin’s groin, and what he could see of the delicious shade of black around her joined palms.

“Is that for me?” Oswin asked, her kneaded hands giving her an impression of girlish curiosity as she leaned forward, eying the sheets between Dick’s legs.

Despite all his armor—all his exhaustion—his cock stood up tall enough to turn the sheet into a tent, lifted well clear of his body from belly to knee.

“I think it is. I think it’s for this big, bad, villainess.” She spread her hands slightly, almost apologetically, like a lawyer delivering a closing argument. Hands open, but fingers interspersed, Dick could see more of her pussy—the dark hairs of a vee set in the pale skin, like a black diamond in a silver setting. “Do you like that I’m a bad girl? It’s a little sexy, isn’t it? Maybe you only get turned on by sexy bombshell baddies like me—Catwoman—Ivy. You just know you can fuck us however you want and we’ll let you…”

She pressed her hands flat together, letting him see almost everything. Christ, she’d shaved some of it—he could see the contours of her labia, the swell of their engorgement like flower petals after rain, a blush along the creamy flesh of the exterior…

“I mean, I know I’d let you fuck me,” she said casually, her fingers interlocking, almost letting him see beyond the labia, into her pussy, her cunt. “You know why? Because I know you love eating pussy. And I love having my pussy eaten. After you make me come a few times, eating my pussy, I’ll let you do anything. Even fuck me in the ass. Does that sound good? Eating my juicy wet pussy? Fucking my tight little ass? Do you think I’ve ever had it in there before, Dick? My ass? You might be the first. I might be a virgin back there. Do you think you’d be able to tell? Because I think you just know.”

She took her hands away and he could see her pussy, he could see her pink.

“This is my vagina, Dick. Ever seen one before?”

Bubbles of the dream were trilling through his reality; Dick was convinced he had seen Oswin naked in that magazine. And he didn’t want her to know. He shook his head vigorously.

“Well, Dick, this is mine.” Oswin ran her hand over it. “When I get excited, my clitoris starts to grow—just like your cock. See my clitoris, Dick?”

Dick nodded. Could he see her clit? Shit, he could practically see her womb. With her fingers gently petting herself, spreading aside the lips of her pussy, he could see everything.

“Look at me, Dick. My vagina’s all wet. Can you see how wet I am, Dick?”

Dick’s eyes widened, his prick feeling like it was about to burst? Did he notice she was wet? Her juices were almost spattering against his face!

“Do you want to feel how wet my vagina is, Dick?”

Dick’s mouth opened in awe. He stared right into the heat, the softness, the liquidity of her cunt. Somehow he managed to nod his head.

Oswin took his hand, petting the back of it gently as she pulled it from atop his covers to the labia of her pussy—it didn’t feel wet. It felt like an ocean.

“Oh yes…” Oswin moaned.

“Does it hurt, when I do that… Oswin?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said, Dick? It feels very good…”

Dick moved his fingers experimentally, wondering how much Oswin’s pussy would take. He eased them in slowly, tenderly, expecting any moment for Oswin to cry out in pain, but her cunt sucked on his fingers, almost drawing them in, tightness cushioning them, everything he felt plush and swelteringly warm. And Oswin kept moaning, sighing, her breath racing, breasts heaving, a flush spreading over her pale skin and a slow smile drawn across her lips.

“You’re going to do more than touch this cunt, Dick. You’re going to fuck it. You’re going to fuck it and come inside it and get me pregnant. And that’s just the start, because you’re gonna keep fucking me, I’m gonna come to you night after night and I’m going to make sure you end each day without a drop of cum in those balls. And every time I visit, my belly’ll be a little bigger, because I’ll have your baby inside of me. Your baby, and all that cum.”

Then the knuckle of his thumb brushed against something and a shock went through her, sending her breasts into quivering jolts, God, they were even bigger than they looked. Dick knew that didn’t make sense, but it was all he could think, how they weren’t just the surface, but all the soft flesh inside, all of it firm and supple and silky smooth. He wondered how much they’d weigh. Each looked like too much for one hand…

Oswin licked her lips. “I know you love big tits, Dick. Every time we’ve fought you could never take your eyes off them. Sure, Catwoman’s are nice, Red Claw’s are fine, but mine are just so big. The biggest you’ve ever seen, right? How many times have you thought about squeezing them… sucking them… fucking them with your big young cock…”

Dick blushed. Too many times. She was right. He hadn’t just masturbated to her that once, it’d been time after time, every time he had a run in with her. After the battle, it was all he could do to wait until they got back to the cave and then he could whip it out and jerk out, thinking of how her breasts have jostled within the confines of her slutty costume, how they’d bounded up and down as she ran, and now the steady quiver in them as he fingered her.

Her clit. He’d touched her clit.

Oswin took in a deep breath and stepped away from him. With her body out of the way, the moonlight from the window came through. Dick could see her thighs glowing with it, his fingers argent as well. Her cream was glimmering between them…

“You see how a woman gets all excited, Dick?” Oswin asked.

Dick stared at his damp fingers, dripping, and was barely able to notice Oswin’s flushed face. “Yeah, I do. Women get as hot as boys, don’t they?”

“Yes, we do,” Oswin gushingly replied. “Just in different ways.”

“I didn’t your… that you could get so hot.”

“It’s just not as obvious. You have to feel me, feel my pussy, to know. A man is different. It’s easy to see when he’s hot.” Oswin stared at the tent of his sheets, now marked with dampness at the tip-top. The musky smell of it made for a pleasant undercurrent. “Take that dick out. I want to see how hot you are.”

Dick just stared at her, his eyes on the moist, pouting lips of her sex. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, pulling down the sheet, ripping his fly open. His cock jerked free in an instant, standing out from his crotch as stiff as rebar, the head foaming with precum.

Oswin gasped at the sight of it. “Ohhhh, Dick. What a gorgeous prick! You really do have a big one, don’t you?”

“It’s never been so wet,” Dick rasped, finding himself shaking.

Oswin too was amazed at how much precum was leaking from the tip of his prick. She could see his balls and it made her wonder where all that jism was coming from. Because if that was how much precum he had, how much would there be when he came?

“That’s what’s going to get me pregnant,” Oswin said cheerfully. “There’s so much more of it. I know you have it all saved up for me, and once that’s gone, you’ll make even more, all for me. You’ll come so hard for me, won’t you?” She ran her finger up his prick. “And my sweet little pussy will suck the seed right out of you.” With the tip of her forefinger, she rubbed a circle around his slit, prompting another bullet of precum to come out and greet her.

As she touched his cock, she was amazed at the heat it was giving off. She gripped the top half of the impressive pussy pleaser lightly, then gave it a pump with her palm. Her hand slid easily to the tip, leaving her fingers glossy with his seed.

“Jeez,” Dick groaned, stomach muscles tightening up along with his nuts.

“Feel good?” Oswin asked.

“Yeah… never had a girl play with me like that…”

Dick thought Oswin had to be one of the sexiest women in the world, unparalleled in her ability to excite a man. Dick was well-aware of how disciplined he was, yet on some level he knew there was nothing he could deny Oswin. He tried to think of something else, school, his homework, but memories of the last history lesson he’d had only made him think of primitive times, tribes and caves and woolly mammoths, Oswin walking around in broad daylight as naked as she was now.

She would’ve passed on her genes with aplomb, reproducing prolifically, passing on her beauty to many offspring. Her girls would not know any shame in their bodies, just the pleasure they could feel with a man, and the men would inherit the athleticism and maleness of someone like him. It was an intoxicating, appealing vision—Oswin squirming with passion as she was filled with every inch of him, as their daughter would, as countless generations would after them, all birthed from this exceeding pleasure.

He forced himself to concentrate, to focus on anything else. At the moment, he couldn’t think of any reason not to give Oswin what she wanted, what she had so shamelessly asked for, but he should probably ask Bruce first, or at least Alfred. That was his refrain. He would let Oswin play with him, just so long as he talked to Alfred before it went any further. He wouldn’t let himself forget it.

Dick could hardly believe what Oswin did next. She brought her hand to her face and licked her palm. He watched, astonished, as she sucked a coat of precum off her fingers next. He didn’t know how to react. He had almost come when Oswin first touched him, her small, soft hand barely able to encircle his rigid erection, feeling so heavenly that he’d wanted to jerk his hips into it, fuck her grip, finish himself off as he had with the magazine because surely nothing could be better than this. But watching Oswin made his cock jerk harder than even her touch had.

Oswin loved the taste. It seemed sweeter than usual, as if Dick’s youthful innocence was manifested in his body, his flavor. And she couldn’t help but notice Dick’s reaction as she went in for seconds. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, his cock flexing in her hand. Ten inches, thick, literally everything she could want from a man. Her ass would have to stretch like never before to take it. They’d both be virgins on this one…

“You like that a lot, don’t you?” Oswin asked, smiling down at the cock in her fingers.

“Yeah,” Dick said, sheepishly averting his eyes. “Feels…”

“Guilty?” Oswin pumped her hand, quickly, from root to tip, slathering Dick’s cock with his own precum. “You don’t have to feel guilty, Dick. If it feels good, then it is good.”

“It does feel good,” Dick said, as if finishing his thought. “It all feels good.”

“So good,” Oswin gasped. “Oh yes, yes—God, yes!” She squeezed his cock hard.

Dick yelped. “Slow down! You’ll make me come all over you!”

“Mmmm, now there’s a thought,” Oswin clucked. “But I had something else in mind. Are you sure you really want my hand, Dick?”

“Yeah, of course I—“

“When you can have my mouth?”

She angled his cock toward her mouth, lowering her face to it, breathing in and smelling all of his scent, then breathing out with a rush going through her body. Her breath hit his cock and finally Dick was irretrievably over the edge, his cock spurting hot splattering cum even before she could part her lips and suckle his cockhead where the boiling cum wouldn’t be wasted.

It covered her face. It got in her hair. And when the initial power had been lost, it still flooded out onto her cleavage, Oswin gasping as the scalding sensation of the cum lashed her sensitive breasts. Her lust was such that it almost felt like she was coming herself. But this wasn’t a climax of satisfaction. It was one of anticipation. He’d made her acutely need to use his body, and his cock was still half-hard, driven by youthful determination.

“Why, Dick, do you want to have sex with me?” Oswin asked innocently, rubbing at her face to smear his cum across it like war paint.

“What kind?” Dick asked automatically.

“All kinds. But first, remember Selina?”

“Selina?”

“You know—Catwoman? You’ve always had a crush on her, haven’t you Dick?”

“I… I suppose.”

“Why don’t you tell me, Dick? Tell me allllll about it…”