JLA 9 (Patreon)

“Where are we going?” Batman asked, staring out the window at the rolling hills below, visible through whispy clouds below their plane.

“Wayne manor,” Huntress said.

“Ohhhhh. I don’t wan’t to go there. It’s boring!” Batman crossed his arms and pouted. “I hate you!”

“We need to get you ready for a party.”

“Party?” Suddenly, Batman’s whole demeanor changed. His big eyes lit up, sparkling with glee. “What kind of party?” He grabbed Huntress’ arm. “Tell me! Tell me!”

“It’s a formal awards ceremony, dear,” Huntress said.

“Omigod!” Batman squealed. “I get to dress up!”

“Yes, you do,” Huntress said, trying to hide her dismay at what had become of Batman.

After a quick shower— there was no time for a bath, Huntress had had to argue, over Batman’s furious objections, Batman had slipped into a padded, push up bra and panties, and he was now sitting at his dressing table, doing his mascara.

“You need to hurry,” Huntress said, watching. Everything about Batman was ultra feminine now— the way he sat, moved, talked, and seeing him do his face with a kind of intense, feminine joy, made her actually feel a little jealous of his effortlessly girlish demeanor.

“You can’t rush a girl,” Batman said.”If my makeup isn’t perfect, it will be such gossip!”

Huntress shrugged. It was true, she supposed.

Batman continued on, outlining his lips with a darker red, then filling them in with a lighter color. He dusted blush on his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Then, plucked some sparkling diamond chandelier earrings from one of his jewelry boxes and slipped them into his ears. “I love diamonds ever so much!” Batman said, smiling, touching one of the earrings with his palm, then turning his head to see how they sparkled.

“I’m so grateful,” Batman said, slipping a delicate necklace around his long, slender neck, “the spell made everything so perfect here for me. I have dresses and skirts and cute everything.”

“You ready?” Huntress said, as Batman slipped a bracelet onto his wrist.

“Almost!” Batman said, getting up. “You’re as bad as a boy!”

Batman stepped into his little black dress. It was sleeveless, plunging neckline but with a thin piece of semi-transparent lace across his cleavage. No sleeves, all the better to show of his dainty arms. He turned and smiled back over his shoulder. “Zip me up?”

Huntress grumpily got off the wall she’d been learning on and zipped up Batman’s dress.

“Merci!” Batman sang out, then slipped into his pumps, grabbed his clutch purse and hurried over to the full length mirror, turning, admiring himself from different angles. “What do you think?” He asked, striking a pose with his hand on his hip, one foot stretched slightly out to the side.

“You look gorgeous,” Huntress said. Seeing Batman all dressed up had, intact, taken her breath away. He was radiant, his little dress celebrating his figure, his long legs, that lovely face. “I’m actually jealous.”

“Oh!” Batman said, looking away. “You’re too kind.”

“Okay, enough of the ‘I’m so pretty’ routine. Let’s go.” She grabbed Batman’s wrist and dragged him toward the door.

“Hey!” Batman said, fake pouting this time. “You didn’t give me a chance to take a selfie!”

“So, what now?” Superman said as Zatanna led him away from Batman. As much as he’d been so totally crushing on Batman, his little mind had already started to flit on to the next subject, like a little bird. “Do we attack Darkseid? He is such a slut! Or, I could work on my dance video!”

“Actually, maybe you should go and be in your secret identity for awhile? Stay out of the way while the women handle things?”

“What? No! I want to help! I want to fly around and shoot my laser eyes at people and make cool sayings like, ‘get ready for a special delivery of justice.’”

“Um, well, right now, in your condition, you are more a burden than a help.”

“Oh, can I go and make out with Batman, then?” Superman asked, his scatter-brained self ricocheting back to his new favorite thing.

“I’m afraid we have Batman on a super secret mission right now. Just, be a sweetheart, go and be Claire Kent for awhile? Okay, sweetie?”

“Okay,” Superman said with a sigh. He gave Zatanna a hug and flew off, feeling sad and — pointless? He couldn’t believe Zatanna didn’t want him to help. His new costume was so cute, and he had a lasso and everything!

Yet, as has even established, Superman was a flighty girl, and he soon found himself growing very excited thinking about being Claire Kent. He had not been her, having spent all the time since his transformation as Wonderlass. ‘I wonder what I’m like? What kind of girl am I?” He imagined different styles— sporty, preppy, slutty. Punk… Oh! What fun it would be!

Flying down into Metropolis he saw the curtains blowing out the window to his apartment— they were gauzy and diaphanous, and his heart fluttered at the sight of them. He sped up and flashed into the apartment so no one would see him. Stopping in the middle of his modest living room, he planted his firsts on his rounded hips and assessed. Muted pastel colors. Lots of pillows and knick knacks. Flourishing ferns. The whole room was ultra feminine.

“I love it!” Superman sang out.

Superman did have time for a bath, and so he put his hair up, filled the tub with steaming bubbles, and climbed in, sighing with delight as the warm water and subs caressed his slender body. He had a glass of wine resting on the edge of the tub, a copy of Eat, Pray, Love, which he began to read. “A girl deserves a break,” he told himself. “Besides, a woman told me what to do, so I have to do it!”

After luxuriating in the bath, Superman slipped into his comfy cotton robe, went out to the living room and turned on the TV, wondering what to watch, his eyes immediately lighting up as he saw Gilmore Girls was streaming on Netflix. “I think I’ve been dying to watch that!” He thought to himself, starting the first episode, nuzzling into a corner of the couch, his legs tucked under him.

He heard someone call for help, and for a moment felt a slight twinge of guilt, but then he remembered that a woman had told him to lay low. No doubt, a woman would handle the problem. He’d been told to be Claire, and he would. If there was one thing that Wonderlass prided herself on, after all, it was being a good girl and doing what she was told!