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“You two are both highly intelligent women. You know the good that the Batman does. I’m sure you realize what a hindrance it would be to have my identity revealed. It would be hard to keep the city safe if I had to worry about my house being burnt down around me every time I shut my eyes. You both live in Gotham—I protect it. We’re on the same side, even if the means and motives differ.”

“And you think that’s going to make us keep your secret?” Summer asked.

She tried to ignore the vibrations from the collar, the little flickers of feeling like her hand had fallen asleep—a phantom numbness. The tingling she really felt, Summer knew, was deep down in her cunt as she remembered how Bruce had used her, played with her, thrilled her… fucked her in so many ways.

She shook it off to resume her train of thought: “Enlightened self-interest?” Decidedly ignoring the continued tingles from the collar. She wasn’t thinking about having sex with him. She wasn’t.

“Not exclusively. I’ve recently learned the advantages of using the carrot as well as the stick.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Vicki demanded. She gritted her teeth, she blinked her eyes against the tickle of the collar at her neck. It put an emphasis on every fleeting thought of Bruce, every lingering touch that still burned on her skin, inside her, deep inside her.

“I mean,” Bruce said insistently, “that there’s no point in trying to intimidate you. Especially when there’s better ways to come to an accord. I’m a powerful man. A wealthy man. What would you want from me if you could have anything? What would satisfy you?”

His voice was a rough rasp, dark and harsh, not trying to seduce or flatter. And as he looked from Vicki to Summer, his eyes were hawk-like. Not angry, but cold, callous, as though the beauty of their naked bodies had no impact on him.

But they both knew that was a lie. He’d shown plenty of appreciation for their lush nudity as he’d made love to them. The lust he had to feel was buried deep, but it was there—just well-hidden.

Vicki and Summer shared a look, seeing that their thoughts were running along similar lines; the collars around their necks humming away, almost shaking like idling motors. Visions of fucking clawed through their thoughts, interrupting the inexorable path of their thinking like dirt being cleansed from metal to reveal the shine beneath.

They simply could not stop recalling their own luscious sessions with him as well as the indescribably exotic voyeurism of watching him fuck the other… sharing them, sharing inthem, and them sharing him. The more wrong it was, the righter it was. They should’ve been jealous, offended, had a thousand other reactions to seeing him go back and forth between them like their two bodies were his own private orgy. But it’d only made the sex more enjoyable. And now that joy beckoned again. It was literally wrapped around their throats. It refused to stop trembling.

But they were still willful enough to try and stand up to it, even as the sexual fantasy was a constant siren song, sapping their inner strength, rattling their bones with the convulsions their collars were going through.

“You could…” Vicki began haltingly—every word seemingly being rocked by a new image of sex bursting into her consciousness. “You could get us interviews. With the Justice League.”

“Insider information,” Summer tried.

“Yes, inside her,” Vicki gasped… Summer ignored her.

“Of what Batman is doing. The cases he’s solved…”

“And Wayne Enterprises,” Vicki moaned, trying to hold herself still, but the collar’s shaking now seemed to be pulling her towards Bruce, a magnet determined to force their bodies together. “You could give us scoops… on mergers… and stuff…”

She felt every flicker, every jiggle go through her ripe flesh. She didn’t know how Bruce’s gaze was so steady when he looked at her. She couldn’t stop looking at his muscles, at his awe-inspiring cock, even with him being still as a statue, barely breathing even.

“Money,” Summer cooed. “Donate money, to… to worthy causes…”

“Like what, Summer?” Bruce asked sadistically.

Summer’s mind went blank. It ricocheted between the thought of how it had felt, having Bruce inside her, and how it had looked when he was fucking Vicki—knowing the expression of whorish satiation on Vicki’s face had been identical to the one she’d worn when it was her turn.

She moaned aloud, her cunt throbbing, the collar a constant whirr of vibration against her neck.

Vicki was little better. Seeing Summer start to drool, she couldn’t deny her own lust. Maybe if they could put on a united front, if she could see that Summer was standing strong, then she could pretend a kind of strength herself. Instead, Summer’s naked body, flushed with arousal, only turned her on more.

“Be Batman,” she breathed.

“What was that, Vicki?” Bruce asked, downright evil now, trying to get her to think when all her body wanted to do was feel.

She desperately wanted to throw herself against him and get the damn collar to shut up by giving it everything it, she wanted… but she hadn’t gotten to where she was by being weak-willed. Bruce had written her a blank check. She would be damned if all she used it for was a bookmark.

“Put the costume on,” Vicki continued, and Summer started panting. Vicki balled her fists at her sides to keep from touching herself. “Don’t be Bruce Wayne. Be Batman… then take us. Take us both.”

Bruce reached out to them then. Vicki squealed. Summer’s eyes rolled back. It seemed like he was going to be Batman, with or without the costume, and give them whatever treatment bitch goddesses like Catwoman, Talia al Ghul, and Poison Ivy had enjoyed… teach them the folly of trying to dictate terms with a devil… and show them the bliss of being punished…

But all he did was take the collars off their necks.

Summer gasped in breath, shoving her hands under her armpits to hold herself steady. “Why… why’d you do that?” she asked, grasping for her journalistic instincts in lieu of being able to think of anything else.

Bruce shrugged casually—a last little expression of Bruce before he gave them what they asked for. “It takes time to put on the whole suit. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable while you waited.”

Vicki was still sucking in breath like she’d run a marathon. “Then why’d you make us wear them…? Do that to us… God… coulda killed me!”

“How?” Bruce clicked the collars together. There was a simple, hollow ring of metal. “They’re just fashion accessories. They don’t do anything.”

“But they were—” Vicki sputtered.

Summer spoke as well, uncaring that Vicki was also groping for words. “They tingled!”

“You said!”

“Mine nearly—“

“It almost—“

“It could’ve broken my neck!”

Bruce only smiled. “I thought the power of suggestion might keep you honest. You two are very lovely girls… but I don’t have all day.”

***

After he left, they slumped to the floor. You had to catch your breath after a thing like that. Vicki leaned against Summer and Summer sagged against Vicki.

They barely noticed their nudity now, except as a pleasant feeling of skin against skin. The old taboo, the naughtiness of it, only just registered—merely a sweet frisson which felt of a piece with the pleasures of the day. It had a dream’s lovely logic, or that of the Garden of Eden.

Why should any of them wear clothes when that took away from the delight of seeing each other naked, or was an impediment to the sex they wanted to happen, readily, casually, but as natural and as delicious as could be imagined?

“Do you think it’s weird?” Summer asked. “A billionaire is offering us anything we want and all we can ask for is sex? I kinda thought he was supposed to be trying to get that from us.”

“Maybe,” Vicki mused. “But it isn’t a billionaire we’re getting it from. It’s Batman.”

Summer grinned. “You still glad he bred you?”

“More than ever.”

The sounds of a shower running echoed through the cave. Summer guessed she wouldn’t like to be sticky with sweat and cum before she got into a leather costume either.

“Think I have a chance?” she asked.

“I don’t think you’d be here if you didn’t. I… let’s just say I wouldn’t put my byline on a report that we’re getting what we want from him. He’s giving us what he wants to, taking us, and we’re… I don’t know…”

“Playing with him,” Summer thought aloud. “Just like the Catwoman broad, running around on him so he could catch her. Only now we’re playing on another level.”

“And we’re not competing.”

“Aren’t we?” Summer asked, glancing at Harley. Bereft of anything to do, the clown had curled up to take a nap. “Seems to me the name of the game is keeping up with him.”

“And the rewards are obvious.”

“So are the risks,” Summer said, still staring at Harley. “How many times has that psycho chained us up?”

Vicki threw her wrist up dismissively. “She did that before we were fucking Batman.”

“Maybe before you were,” Summer reminded her.

“Oh yeah… right… well, you know what I mean. It’s Gotham. There’ll be serial killers and man-crocodiles no matter what we do. Might as well enjoy it.”

“And raise a kid in it?”

“Babe, you took that cock as well as I did. Had that body on top of you… I think we’ve pulled enough crap on the next generation; there’s no way we can’t pass on those genes.”

“What if it’s a girl?”

Vicki flipped her hair. “I think Generation Z will thank me for that as well.”

Summer leaned over to whisper in Vicki’s ear. “I just had an idea… how about a double wedding? Only there’s one groom.”

“And no honeymoon unless we both walk down the aisle?”

“Exactly.”

“I like it.”

“I thought you might.”

Then they heard the heavy footfalls of boots… Batman’s boots… on the cave floor. They both knew how quiet Batman could be when he wanted. This was to let them know he was coming. This was because he wanted them to be ready. As ready as they could be, at least.

“Of course,” Vicki said, “we should wait a while before we insist on anything.”

“We are his guests,” Summer agreed.

“And it’s your first day here.”

“My first day here.”

“You think it’ll be weird? Fucking Batman instead of Bruce Wayne?”

“Yes—but weird isn’t the first word that comes to mind.”

“Which of us do you want to go first?”

“Let’s let him pick. He’s let us take a lot of liberties so far.”

“I’ll say. He let us double-team his wife.”

“Huh? Oh… that isn’t the first word for Harley that comes to mind.”

“What word comes to mind for us?”

The footfalls stopped—poised on the other side of the lab table they were seated against. They felt as much as heard Batman’s armored gauntlets come down on the table’s surface, his flat palms settling heavily on the table as if… the mental image shot through both of them… he were about to wrench the whole half-ton bulkhead out of the way.

“Fucked.”

“You wanted me,” Batman’s voice rang out, loud without being raised—scary and calm and cold and metallic, roiling with a suppressed anger, a bitterness that snapped and crackled. It was nearly impossible to believe it was the same man they’d just spoken to now inhabiting this… beast. “But it seems your ardor’s gone. Maybe I should’ve left the collars on. You were properly motivated then.”

Vicki and Summer, at first frozen by his words, now scrambled to their feet.