Batman Behind Bars (Patreon)

This 2,244 word story was based on another request by Luke DeAn - "The Penguin switches bodies with Batman". Thank you very much for the fun idea and I hope you all enjoy the end result! I can potentially see either a prequel or sequel to this one, so let me know if you'd like to see more!

Bruce Wayne sat on the bed in his cell at Arkham Asylum and silently seethed. It wasn’t really his cell, of course, because he wasn’t the one with a registered patient file at the institution for the criminally insane, but it was where he had been trapped nonetheless, and the past week had left him to miserably wonder just how the various villains of his rogue’s gallery managed to escape it on such a regular basis.

Resting a hand on his distended gut, Bruce stared into the grimy mirror on the opposing wall of the cell. The round face, puffy cheeks and beak-like nose were actually the property of one Oswald Cobblepot, perhaps better known to the populous of Gotham as The Penguin. In a plan that would have been more befitting of an insane individual like the Joker, the Penguin had switched bodies with the Dark Knight and let Batman take the fall for his latest crime spree, which was how Bruce had ended up in the same facility he was usually responsible for putting criminals into. He was angry at himself for underestimating Cobblepot, but how was he supposed to know what the villain had in store for him?

While Bruce was certain that seeing another man’s face in the mirror would be an alarming experience for anyone, having Cobblepot frowning back at him was particularly stomach-curling for the Dark Knight. It wasn’t because Cobblepot was one of the many villains that plagued his seemingly cursed city, but rather for more superficial reasons. Simply put, as Bruce Wayne he had been the most eligible bachelor in all of Gotham and made regular appearances on the annual editions of “World’s Most Handsome Men” thanks to his carefully presented appearance. He had grown used to the perfect tanned complexion, the strong masculine jawline, the brilliant blue of his eyes, and especially his sculpted muscular body - he had never anticipated that they might be taken away from him. Technology’s gone too damn far, he thought bitterly. If only these crazed scientists put the same amount of effort into curing illness as they did in pushing the boundaries of villainy…

The flesh he was currently occupying - as much a prison as Arkham Asylum itself - was about as far from what he had possessed prior as could be. His skin was pale, almost sheet white, and behind his cracked lips were chipped yellow teeth that made him wince whenever he caught sight of them in his reflection. The eyes were beady and accusing, and the thin black hairs on his head were greasy and long, rather than the well-groomed short style that Bruce had kept in his own body. It wasn’t just the face that was markedly different though, as everything below the neck was just as horrifically different.

The Penguin, standing at a mere five-foot-six (discounting the top hat he was fond of wearing), had only ever come up to Batman’s pecs in their previous encounters, and the loss of almost a foot of height had been difficult to adjust to. As if that wasn’t difficult enough, it didn’t seem like he’d actually lost any weight in the reduction of his height. Rather, his heavy muscles had been replaced by sagging fat, leaving him as round as a beach ball, and the redistribution of that weight had caused him to tumble down onto his knees more than once. The guards at the asylum showed him no sympathy, dragging him roughly back onto his feet and warning him that if he continued “dicking around” then they’d make sure he became more compliant. Bruce had long heard about the corruption of Arkham’s guards but had always considered himself too busy to do anything about it - now that he was on the receiving end of such appalling treatment though, he regretted never getting involved.

“Careful, Cobblepot! With a face like that you might end up breaking the mirror even further,” a mocking voice remarked from outside the cell bars. Bruce turned to see Fenris, his least favourite of Arkham’s guards, smirking at him. The other man seemed to relish in the suffering of the asylum’s patients - their prisoners, really - and as soon as Bruce was back in his rightful body he was going to make sure that Fenris was removed from his position of power and forced to face justice. Even though most of the other patients at the asylum were dangerous supervillains, they didn’t deserve to be spat at, as Fenris did to him at that very moment. Bruce’s blood boiled. How dare he!

The worst part of dealing with Fenris though was that the guard had been the first person Bruce had encountered when he’d finally awoken to find himself in the cell a week prior, and had laughed in his face when Bruce tried to explain that he was Batman and had been body swapped into the villain. From there Fenris had spread his claim to the other guards who patrolled the area and they had taken terms in mercilessly taunting him. None of them believed him, of course, not even the therapists he had been forced into daily sessions with. They insisted that he was either deluded or setting the groundwork for an escape attempt, and those insistences only made Bruce lash out in anger. He could only imagine the damage that Cobblepot was doing out there in his body, both as Bruce Wayne and as Batman, and the only person who could stop him was locked up in a madhouse and being treated like a criminal!

“What’s the matter, Fatman, did I hurt your feelings?” Fenris continued, an expression of glee decorating his face. “Are you still living in fantasy land where you’re the big bad Batman, or have you finally come down to reality and accepted that you’re just another scummy lowlife who deserves to be here?” He spat again and this time the liquid hit Bruce’s face. He wiped it off in disgust, but did his best to hold himself from rushing the bars and trying to grab at Fenris. There was no way he had the speed to pull off such a feat in his current body anyway.

“What do you want?” Bruce flinched as he heard the squeaking voice that left his lips. “Can’t you just leave me alone?” It sounded so pathetic, but Bruce had learned the hard way that talking back to Fenris with an attitude didn’t end well. To get through the situation he just had to remind himself what would become of the corrupt guard once Bruce was back to being Batman - Fenris would regret every little thing he’d done to torment him since he’d been deposited in Arkham the week prior.

“Hey, our talks are the highlight of my shifts, Cobblepot,” Fenris retorted in a smug tone, his smirk as cruel as any of the villains locked within the facility’s cells. “Why would I give up on this top quality entertainment?” To further his point, he grabbed at the bars and rattled them. Bruce bristled in anger, but kept himself from saying anything further lest he properly aggravate his tormentor. No good could come of it. “Come on, Penguin, don’t you feel like talking tonight? How about you do a dance for me, eh? Get that fat belly of yours jiggling!”

Bruce’s cheeks burned with humiliation. Never in his life had anyone dared to talk to him in such fashion, but they no longer saw the millionaire playboy that he truly was, and only saw the slobbish exterior of a criminal mastermind. He’d get revenge on Fenris and the other guards one day, but it was clear that he wouldn’t get there by convincing anyone of his true identity. He’d have to start thinking like a supervillain and planning his escape from Arkham Asylum, just as so many of Batman’s fiercest enemies had done before. It didn’t exactly sit right with him, but Bruce supposed he could always see about making alliances with the likes of the Riddler and Hugo Strange. He’d have a better chance of escaping the facility with the help of seasoned veterans, as loathe as he was to admit it. Once the wrongs had been righted and he was back in his body, he’d get them put right back into their cells, but until then it was time to throw out all of the rules…

On the other side of Gotham City, in the CEO’s office of Wayne Tower, Edward Cobblepot was making himself rather comfortable. It had been quite the surprise when he’d taken off Batman’s cowl for the first time and recognised the face in the mirror as belonging to Bruce Wayne. Who would have thought Gotham’s favourite son was moonlighting as the Dark Knight? Utter insanity - but definitely a most exciting opportunity for Cobblepot, to say the very least! Being Batman was good enough for him but being Bruce Wayne was even better!

Peeling off the pieces of Batman’s kevlar armor for the first time was the most erotic experience of Cobblepot’s entire life - the slow reveal of each beautiful muscle had him rock hard, and that area most certainly didn’t disappoint! He had never been one to care about his physical appearance, but there was absolutely no denying that Bruce Wayne’s body was a perfect specimen of masculine beauty, and now it was all his! Of course he was going to enjoy it for all it was worth, which meant spending hours in front of the mirror in one of the Penguin’s secret hideouts, admiring each and every muscle as he experimentally flexed them. There was such power coursing through his new form… it was better than any drug!

Of course, Cobblepot had also felt considerable pleasure when he watched the Arkham guards rolling the sedated form of “The Penguin” into the institution. He wasn’t sorry to see that disappointing physical form strapped down onto a gurney and wheeled away, although he wished he could see Batman's reaction when he woke up and discovered where he was trapped. Perhaps there would be a way to hack into the camera system and get that footage for some private viewing…

The guards that remained behind to talk with him seemed particularly tense in Batman’s presence, which Cobblepot rather enjoyed. They promised to keep the Penguin locked down and thanked “Batman” for his assistance in getting another criminally insane villain back where he could potentially receive help. Cobblepot had thankfully been able to stop himself from snorting in disbelief. Arkham Asylum didn’t do anything other than drive its patients more insane than they already wear, and make the citizens of Gotham feel a little safer. Oh how foolish they all were!

Dressed up in one of the finest suits he had discovered in the wardrobe, in the fancy office at the top of a skyscraper and with his feet up on the desk, Cobblepot felt like he could rather get used to living as Bruce Wayne. He’d only had a few outings at Batman, testing out his new physical prowess by beating up some of thugs who had once been under the Penguin’s employ and betrayed him for the Joker. The fight had left them bloodied and broken in a way that the previous Batman would have held back from, but that was of little concern to him. He simply loved how easy it was to strike fear into the hearts of lesser men, and how easily they had crumbled under the strength of his fist!

Massaging the bulge in his pants, Cobblepot thought about how poor Bruce Wayne was probably dealing with being locked in Arkham Asylum and deemed even more insane than before for proclaiming he’d been the victim of a body swap. Cobblepot knew the staff at Arkham, they’d never consider that there was even a chance Wayne was telling the truth! He hoped that Wayne had encountered Fenris too - even the villains being held in cells at the institution considered the guard to be particularly wicked, and no doubt he’d push the rich boy superhero to his very limits and perhaps even further!

Thinking about how he had likely doomed Batman to a miserable future - particularly as Cobblepot had made sure to destroy the device he’d used to switch their bodies in the first place - made the villain harder than ever. When he was such a fine looking man though, there was no need for him to waste his arousal on his own hand. Tapping the intercom button on his desk, “Bruce Wayne” summoned his handsome young receptionist. It was just one of the many perks of being Gotham’s favourite son rather than a repulsive villain, and even after a week in his new identity he was finding more and more things about it to enjoy. Maybe after having his way with the eager-to-please receptionist he’d get dressed up in the Batman armor and have some fun at the expense of the fools who had once double-crossed him. Nobody had expected that the Penguin would be the villain to finally beat Batman, but Cobblepot had always had high aspirations for his criminal career and had exceeded every single one of them with this latest development! Of course, nobody would ever know about Batman’s true defeat, but Cobblepot was quite comfortable with just keeping that a secret between himself and Wayne.

Well, him and Cobblepot. After all, he was Bruce Wayne now - and he always would be!