Aaron stood outside the entrance of Gotham Elementary School, his hand tightly holding his daughter Chloe's small hand. It was her first day, and he wanted to make sure she felt comfortable. As they entered the school foyer, a familiar face greeted—a brown-skinned beauty colloquially known as Helena Bertinelli. But to him, she was also the Huntress, the enigmatic member of the Birds of Prey, and the woman he slept with last Saturday.
After two weeks of cooking at the Wayne Manor, he had managed to get a sense of the many Gotham heroes. However, sometimes, their civilian lives would also intersect. Helena, for example, had managed to convince Aaron to enroll Chloe in this public school rather than the private tutoring he pretended to give her.
Chloe was bouncing on her feet. She had always wanted to go to school.
"Good morning, Mr. Reigner," Helena greeted him with a warm smile. He was thrown by her unexpected façade of professionalism. "Ready to explore the school?"
Aaron returned the smile. "Good morning, Ms. Bertinelli. Yes, we're excited to see what this school has to offer."
"Very excited!" Chloe added, giggling.
Helena led Aaron and Chloe through the hallways, pointing out various classrooms along the way. They passed a brightly decorated classroom where young children were engaged in creative activities. The walls were adorned with colourful artwork, and the students seemed eager and enthusiastic. A pang of nostalgia hit Aaron. So many years had passed, so much time and innocence lost…
"This is Mrs. Johnson's class," Helena explained. "She's amazing with the feisty ones, always finding new ways to make use of their tempers. Honestly, I wish I could be as adaptable as her."
Aaron nodded appreciatively, glancing at Chloe, whose eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I don't think Chloe is a troublemaker but she is definitely unique."
"Hey, wait, I heard that!" Chloe said, putting her hands on her hips. "What does that mean?"
"It means you're a smart little girl," Helena interjected, tapping her on the forehead. "Now come on, let's keep going."
As they continued their tour, they entered another classroom filled with older students engrossed in a science experiment. The room was well-equipped with lab stations, microscopes, and an array of scientific tools.
"And this is Mr. Thompson's class," Helena said. "He teaches the fifth graders. He actually has a PhD in thermonuclear astrophysics."
"Impressive," Aaron said.
"Yep," Helena popped. "Unfortunately, the job market for nuclear physics isn't lucrative in Gotham and so he's stuck with teaching elementary grade science class. He thinks of some really intriguing experiments though."
Aaron chuckled, his eyes lingering on Helena's face for a moment before redirecting his attention to the classroom. "Well, maybe I'll enroll myself in his class. I could use a refresher on nuclear physics."
Helena's laughter echoed through the hallway. "I'm sure he'd be delighted to have you, Mr. Reigner. But for now, let's focus on Chloe's education, shall we?"
As they completed their tour, Aaron couldn't help but notice the distance between him and Helena. She sometimes came close. Too close. Her shoulders would brush against his and her eyes would linger on him for a little too long. Aaron wouldn't have minded it if not for Chloe's presence. Flirting in front of children was weird, in his opinion.
"So." Helena clapped her hands together. "First period is about to start in fifteen minutes. You are going to leave Chloe here, right?"
"I enrolled here so I obviously have to," Aaron replied. There was a tug of war in his heart though. Schools weren't completely safe. Gotham City had the second highest school shooting rates in the world. He would be lying if he said that number didn't concern him.
As a man living by himself, it didn't matter, but with Chloe…he understood why the gun debate was so fierce. If something happened to her, if someone blasted her with a LexCorp branded gun, he wouldn't rest until the weapon responsible was eviscerated from the country. Then again, America sucked and the police oftentimes used misaligned force to end protests and oppress minorities, whether they were metahumans, aliens, or simply humans.
'Huh.' Aaron blinked. 'So that's why Batman has a no-gun rule. I get it now. It's a personal choice. He knows he's strong and he wants to rise above the easy way.'
Not everyone was Batman though. People needed to defend themselves from supervillain attacks somehow. Aaron would have to really consider the gun laws he would enact. He wanted them off the streets and away from the hands of children, that was for sure. Definitely no guns for those with mental illnesses or prior criminal records either.
'I'll think about it later,' Aaron thought to himself. He was supposed to be dropping off Chloe.
Him and Chloe shared a warm hug. "Carrie is going to pick you up after school," Aaron said. "Is that okay with you?
"Cassandra and Stephanie visit all the time so yeah! It's okay! Plus, I know you're busy!" Chloe pulled him into another embrace. The toothy grin on her face brought his heart peace. "I have so many mommies now, it's so awesome!"
"Right. Mommies." Aaron chuckled. "Then I'll catch you later?"
Chloe finger-gunned him. "Catch you later!"
He laughed and sent Helena a smile and a small, "Thank you."
She understood and gave a little wave. Aaron called up a taxi and headed to the Clock Tower. Barbara Gordon had texted him yesterday. Apparently, she needed him for a mission and wondered if he could come. Aaron had no reason to deny her request. His part-time obligations at Wayne Tech were on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Today was Monday.
His chef duties were easy and already finished. Again, the Robins and Batman only required one massive meal a day. They could feed themselves for the rest of the day with military food, snacks, and water.
Barbara mentioned Cassandra would also participate in the mission. Aaron couldn't wait.
***
The Clock Tower's exterior was a towering structure of steel and glass that stood tall against the Gotham City skyline. There were a lot of stairs to climb on the inside. Lots and lots of stairs…
"Hello."
Aaron blinked. There weren't many people in the world who would sneak up on him. There was no tension, however, because he could identify the voice of the shadow in a heartbeat.
"Cassandra, you're here." He smiled down at her and continued to stamp up the stairs. In her Batgirl costume, she pulled off her mask and mirrored his broad smile. "Barbara mentioned you would be coming. I wonder what's up though."
Cassandra shrugged with her shoulders.
'So she doesn't know either, huh?'
The fleet of stairs was long and deafening. After the destruction of the first Clock Tower, which functioned as a place for rich Gothamites to rent, the second became less used. Empty. It was like a bell tower. As they reached the top platform, there was nothing. No windows, no walls, nothing. It was empty.
There had to be a trick, Aaron thought, and he was correct in that assumption. Cassandra strolled up to a wall, pushed a brick, and a near invisible ray of light scanned her.
"WELCOME, BATGIRL TWO."
To her left, a fleet of stairs appeared made from the bricks of the wall and led to a portion of the ceiling that now opened up. Cassandra beckoned him forward.
"So this is how you normally get in…" Aaron muttered. In all likelihood, the light scan he saw was intended to be invisible. As the Chosen One, however, such things could not escape from his line of sight.
Cassandra seemed proud of the setup and nodded eagerly. "Mhm, mhm."
The clock of the tower could be seen from inside out. Like last time, there were holographic computers and desks. Despite that, Barbara wasn't here yet. Close to her personal computer was a plush doll of both Batman and Azrael.
'Cute,' Aaron commented internally.
"I guess we'll wait?" he suggested after his brief scan. Cassandra was in her Batgirl suit, an accentuating piece of wardrobe. Leaning on the cluttered long desk on the left side of the room, her ass suddenly seemed pronounced and noticeable. Again, maybe it was just the costume but…
He caught her eye, grey against brown. A glimmer of understanding was exchanged. She scanned him up and down, and her throat bobbed anxiously. The next breaths they took were hot and thick. After a few meaningful glances, they decided to fuck right then and there.
…
…
…
…
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap–!
Aaron wiped the sweat off his face with an arm and continued rocking his hips back and forth, provoking moan after moan, thwack after thwack. The noise should have reached beyond the walls and every person in the neighbourhood as to what was happening and how hard he was fucking this bitch. The Clock Tower was built with sound proof stone.
Aaron examined the ass serving him. The two round cheeks he had been pummelling for twenty minutes now. Cassandra Cain, the daughter of Lady Shiva, the Batgirl of Gotham, who he was fucking doggy-style, who he was showing the time of her life.
'She's tighter than her mother,' he noted, his member unconsciously drawing comparisons. 'Sandra's ass is slightly bigger and more toned, and her hips are wider. Probably an age thing.'
Would Cassandra develop a similar figure if he got her pregnant? Maybe. There was the height to consider. Shiva was three inches taller. Unless Cassandra got a miraculous growth spurt in her mid-twenties, there was no way she was catching up to her mother.
Tits and ass wise, however, there was a chance. Pregnancy tended to plump up those features. If she got pregnant, that is, which he wasn't planning for just yet.
"So good! So good! Mmph! Mmm! Amazing! Amazing! Deep! Deep!"
Aaron was good at what he did. Too good. His stamina was endless as he simply repeated the motions. Clap, clap, clap, his cock reaching deeper than thought possible. So many inches, so much speed, so much sweat. The stench was unreal. Neither of them cared though.
"You feel amazing, Cass…!"
"Mmmph! Yes! Yes! Yes–! Cum, please! Cum!"
She reached her own orgasm for the nineteenth time. Aaron, meanwhile, sighed as his first climax rattled his balls and made him dump a hot load in her womb. Cassandra was delirious, the sweep of cum causing her to shake top-to-bottom. She closed her eyes, opened them suddenly, then went limp. Her hands trembled as they clung to the table.
Aaron sighed again, delighted by her exhaustion. As soon as he softened, he pulled up his pants. He needed a cup of coffee to refuel himself.
"There must be a high-end espresso machine somewhere…" Aaron muttered.
"There," Cassandra pointed, not quite recovered but managing to lift a shaky finger. Over at a cluttered desk on the far left, separate from the holographic screens, was a shiny espresso machine. It gleamed with stainless steel panels and its sleek, compact design housed a powerful pump, a professional-grade portafilter, and a temperature control system.
Aaron was impressed. "That's the new Wayne Tech espresso machine. I'm pretty sure it was released two weeks ago."
Cassandra's response came in the form of a low moan. She huffed and through sheer willpower pulled herself together. Once her breathing was forcibly steadied, she cleaned herself up. The smell was still there but Aaron discreetly managed to make it dissipate with a snap of his finger.
Remember his first order to the hypnotized Cassandra that she would ignore any signs of his metahuman powers? Yeah, that was still at play. Aaron was impressed. He thought maybe it would have worn off by now, but no, the subconscious order lingered in her mind. Otherwise, the observant Cassandra would have caught the change in odour.
He thought about telling Cassandra about his plans. She was the person closest to him. If it was up to him, she would be his Chosen Bride. But he knew her stubborn morals and ethics. She was like Batman and she wouldn't stand by him if he did something truly unsavoury. He couldn't risk jeopardising their relationship so he decided to just leave her out of it. He wanted her to see him as Aaron Reigner, the civilian, rather than the Chosen One.
The wall at the back suddenly opened up. Two seconds later, Barbara came in, the wheels of her chair silently rolling over a pair of tracks. A method of travel to circumvent the long distance between the base of the Clock Tower to the hidden top compartment. It was the same area the Batmobile used. Aaron must have not noticed the smaller pair of tracks last time.
"Hey, guys, you doin' alright?"
"Hey, Barbara." He nudged his cup of coffee towards her. "Just using the espresso machine if you don't mind."
Barbara chuckled and rolled forward. "I don't, Mr. Coffee Addict."
"Didn't you once drink twelve cups in an hour."
Barbara pouted. "That was one time! And it was when I was hacking into the Justice League servers."
"Which Tim said you failed at."
She looked to the side and huffed. "Dammit Tim."
Barbara Gordon was really cool. Like really, really cool. She cracked jokes, she was smart, and most of all, she was kind and generous. Aaron had never seen a woman offer so many candies to a girl. Chloe loved it.
Barbara's time was split between being Oracle and a librarian. Apparently, she had graduated from high school at the age of sixteen and earned a bachelors in law and forensic psychology not too long after. She was a genius with an eidetic memory, so once she stepped down from being Batgirl, she very easily entered the field of computers and hacking.
"I love what you've done to the place," Aaron joked. "Very messy."
"Shush, you." Barbara rolled her eyes. "The tower had actually exploded and Bruce, in his charitable wisdom, decided to reconstruct it. He couldn't bear to have me at Metropolis," Barbara mocked. She locked into her place in front of the computers and holograms. "It might have been for the better, honestly. The place is a little wider now and I was able to cram in a medical bay area. It's nice and intuitive but still homy."
The Gotham Clock Tower was not only Oracle's hideout but a place for the Bat Family to stay when the cave wasn't an option. Plus, Oracle was a miracle worker. There was a reason Bruce wanted her to stay in Gotham even if she couldn't remain as Batgirl.
"Mission," Cassandra requested impatiently.
"Oh, yes." Click-clack, click-clack. Oracle began typing. "It's something for the three of us to do."
'Three of us?' Aaron was immediately interested. What could he–normal, boring Aaron Reigner–do for the legendary Batgirls? The enduring Oracle?
Several images appeared in the blue holograms. Photos of a tall building in what seemed to be in a business-focused area. An arrow suddenly appeared and labelled the location: the Diamond district. South of Robinson Park.
"This right here is the Gotham City Hedonist Society." A long pause came after she said those words. Cassandra and Aaron stared at her. He noticed her ears were a dark shade of red. Her red glasses seemed light in comparison. Eventually, she cleared her throat and continued. "Ahem! The Hedonist Society is well….it's a sex club located on the fortieth floor of a building in the Diamond District. Clothing is forbidden except for masks that conceal its members' identities."
"Uhh, okay?" Aaron exchanged glances with Cassandra. "Is there something special about this place?"
Barbara cleared her throat again. No wonder she was late. She was probably trying to figure out a way to explain the mission. "It's…yes, very special. Not the place itself, mind you, but the people going. Intergang as well as the Russian Mafia and the Drug Cartels are meeting up. And it's not just any meeting. The leaders and high-ups are attending. In particular, who we want is Intergang's leader, Bruno Mannheim. This is just a rumour from the superhero side of things but they say he's a follower of Darkseid."
Darkseid? The tyrannical god from the Sphere of the Gods? The embodiment of oppression? The one who fought the Justice League on a yearly basis? He had seen the pictures on the internet. That motherfucker was a monstrosity. Bleeding red eyes, a cracked grey complexion, and a hulking stature. Simply uttering his name brought a chill to the room.
"There are others, of course," Barbara continued. "El Penitente, for example, has managed to recover his drug operation after Red Hood nearly killed him. There's Tobias Whale too who has managed to become the centrepiece of the Russian Mafia after leaving Metropolis." She suddenly snorted and glanced back at them. "They also call him the Great White Whale."
"Why?" Cassandra asked. Barbara pointed to a holographic image to the right. The man was bald, broad, and listed as weighing over four hundred pounds. Aaron blinked twice.
"Is that muscle or fat?" he asked.
"Muscle, unfortunately," Barbara replied.
"And…he's going to be naked at this meeting."
Barbara hesitated but nodded. "...sorry," she managed to mutter. "Crime lords don't get together often. They need a neutral zone. A place where the chances of being assassinated are nil."
Aaron crossed his arms and pretended to be agitated. He acted like this was a tough decision. In reality, it wasn't.
'If I can control every person there, I can accelerate stage three's progress by months or years. This is the lucky break I needed! It's a potential mission that would completely change everything in Gotham.'
"I know this isn't ideal. I bet you probably don't even know why I called for you two specifically–"
"No," Cassandra interjected. "We must. We must do it."
Aaron smiled. Of course Cassandra would step up to the plate. She was as dedicated to the mission as Batman himself. If there was anyone who deserved to inherit the cowl, it was her (in his admittedly biased opinion). With her words, he pretended to gain the courage he needed, furrowing his brow, and stepped right next to her.
"Count me in," Aaron said. "I know I'm just a chef and I don't know anything about the world of superheroes and spying, but I'll do my best."
Barbara's green eyes widened and shimmered and she switched between the two of them in disbelief. "R-really? I mean, I expected Cassandra to be on board but…" She smiled at Aaron in approval. "Thank you. Let me give you the exact details of the mission. The goal is to eavesdrop on their meeting. I have the schematics of the floor here."
On command, the holographic screen displayed a three-dimensional blueprint of the building. It zoomed in on the fortieth floor and showed the front door guarded by two uncensored buff bouncers.
"Although it, ah, requires nudity, again, masks are an exception."
"To hide their identities," Aaron chimed in. Barbara nodded.
"Exactly." Barbara paused. "A long time ago, when I was young, I went there." She must have realized just how bad that sounded because she quickly added, "For a mission! For a mission!" She sighed and pushed her glasses back. "I was chasing Catwoman because she had my notebook and…god, that's a story for another time. Anyway, what you need to know is this: it's a big place with a lot of unashamed sex. Expect to see, you know, genitals."
'Of course that slut Catwoman went into a nude sex club,' he thought, closing his eyes and nearly sighing.
"Understood," Cassandra replied dutifully. Aaron followed up with a solemn and curt nod.
The two of them were totally unfazed whereas Barbara was struggling to find the words. It was amusing to see the great Oracle squirm like this. Out of the three, it was Barbara who was making a big deal out of it. Ironic since she was the oldest here. She adjusted her glasses and wiped her sweaty hand down her shirt.
"Damn it. I didn't expect the two of you to accept so quickly," Barbara muttered under her breath. She looked away from them, turning to the computer, before rotating her wheelchair again. She glanced at Aaron, blushing, and let her face hang in her hand. "Aaron, can I talk to you for a second? And Cassandra, could you cover your ears for a second? And turn around while you're at it?"
What was she, a child? But Cassandra obeyed anyway. Barbara was her mentor and she rightfully figured it was not a conversation for her ears to ear.
"What's up?" Aaron asked.
"Look…" Barbara trailed off and double-checked that Cassandra wasn't listening. "Cassandra needs someone to speak for her in the event that I'm not there. A…a boyfriend, a friend, a husband, fake sex partner, whatever. She can't do this alone. I know I did and it was…nothing bad happened but it could have. For a girl like her, things could go south fast. I need someone she can trust more than a friend. It can't be Dick or Tim or those guys. They're like brothers. It would be really weird. You're…not. Err, you do know that, right? Everyone has noticed the way she looks at you so I assume you know."
Aaron looked down at her and sighed in defeat. "I know."
"It's complicated, I get it. No worries." Barbara fiddled with the end of her shirt. A blush crept up her cheeks. "Ahem, anyway, one last question and this is…well, you don't have to answer this…actually nevermind."
Hurriedly, Barbara pushed herself back to her computers and waved a languid arm like a flag. "Cass, you can listen now."
In a flash, she was back to Aaron's side. She must have detected the shift in the air. Impressive. Cassandra's brown eyes looked up at him, curious. Aaron shrugged.
"It was honestly nothing important," Aaron said quietly. "Just some advice for me as a male when we're there."
Cassandra could see he was partially lying but didn't press.
"Wait, how are you going to join us, Barbara? Is the sex club accessibility friendly?"
That was awfully progressive of them, he thought. Barbara laughed at the absurdity of the remark.
"No, no. I have a little something, see." Barbara reached back and touched something on the back of her nape. Aaron squinted. He could see something at the top of her spine. Invisible to the naked eye but not to Aaron's enhanced vision. It was in her body, connected to her brain.
As if magic had been casted, there was a beep and Barbara Gordon miraculously stood up on her own two feet. Aaron's eyes went wide. She laughed at his expression.
"It's a neural implant," Barbara explained. She took a small step forward but was a little shaky. Another baby step. This time, she was stable. Barbara was regaining her sense of balance. "Almost ten years ago, I had surgery done for this implant. At first, it was a phenomenal solution but as the years have gone by it's lost its effectiveness. I only use it when I need to."
"Amazing…" Aaron applauded her. He couldn't help it, it was the only suitable reaction for witnessing such a miracle. Cassandra innocently copied him. The applause grew.
"Stop it, you two." Barbara blushed and rubbed the back of her neck. Standing at her full height, she was the same height as him: five-foot-eleven. Seeing her eye-to-eye felt great. He could tell Barbara felt the same way.
'Life must be tough when everybody is looking down on you,' Aaron thought. Subconscious social cues like that played deeply into psychology and sociology. 'But that technology…the ability to temporarily mend broken spines…another investment I need to include in my plans. That kind of healthcare should be available to everyone.'
He shelved the promise to the back of his head. When this mission was over, he would tell Hadiyah to do additional research for him.
***
Aaron Reigner's powers had limits. He was growing exponentially but he required time, knowledge, and effort. He couldn't just waltz up to everyone, bind them in a hypnosis, and make them do as he pleased. He had gone from saliva and cum to eye contact. Put differently, his range was still tight and kept together.
It couldn't be a mere glance either. He required two seconds of direct eye contact to establish a link. With women, it was no problem. With men, not so much. His tendency to drawl and appear cool was to his detriment.
The journey up the elevator was tense. He and Cassandra exchanged a couple jokes which Barbara did not seem to find amusing.
"On, off," Cassandra said, snickering. "On, off."
The cowl Aaron was wearing belonged to Batman. It could flick between white lenses and transparent lenses. In other words, he could look like an accurate Batman or a cosplay Batman. It was funny to see the switch.
"I think the white lens is better. Hides my identity completely, you know?" Aaron said.
Cassandra nodded eagerly. "Mhm, mhm."
"I know you're new to this, Aaron, but please. We need to be focused. Stick to the transparent lens, we don't need them suspecting us." Barbara sighed. Aaron decided to listen to her. "Is the mask okay?" she asked.
"A little tight but it's fine," Aaron responded. "I do like the cool features."
"Try not to mess with it too much," Barbara said.
It was a Batman mask linked to the BatComputer. There was a Detective Mode and everything. Aaron felt like he was in a game when he activated it. It could detect heart beats, use x-ray vision, and indicate truths and lies. There were a hundred additional features that Barbara said he wasn't allowed to interact with. Fair enough.
The elevator door opened.
Barbara winced. Aaron and Cassandra exchanged playful looks.
The entrance to the Gotham Hedonist Society exuded an air of grandeur and mystery. A pair of intricately carved double doors stood tall, resembling a golden gate.
There was a naked man to the side, a secretary sitting at a desk. Guarding the entrance were two burly men nearly twice Aaron's size, one black and one white. Buff, arms as strong as tree trunks, and penises hanging nearly four inches down. Intimidating…assuming it had been a male other than Aaron.
"This is it," Barbara whispered. She and Cass were already wearing their Batgirl masks, although their designs couldn't be any more different. Whereas Barbara's mask was purple, pointy, and covered the upper half of her face, Cassandra's was a wrapped black fabric. From the outside, one would wonder how she could see.
As they approached, the bouncers tightened up. The golden gates were open and waiting.
The secretary spoke lazily and in a drawn out manner. He wore a green necklace and his hair was tied in a ponytail. "Proper attire means no attire. Also, show your membership, please."
"I know, I know." Somehow, his words agitated Barbara immensely. She handed three forged membership cards and the secretary accepted it without a second look. "Come on, guys…" she muttered, unbuttoning her jeans. The three of them silently agreed to strip without looking at each other.
'Since this is a secret meeting, security is loose. Lucky.'
Aaron didn't have an issue taking off his clothes. Call it a new fetish or an adjustment to nudity, he swept himself off his garments at the same pace as Cassandra. The secretary was back in his seat, uncaring, while the two buff guards watched him.
His body was lean. Aaron didn't have a ridiculous eight-pack but he was muscular to a degree. He could feel Cassandra eyeing his toned back. Once he was left in his boxers, he smiled at the guards innocently and unveiled his manhood with a quick yank.
Thwap!
The giant men seemed to know their place, eyes going wide and nearly stepping back. Barbara, her jeans, shirt, and sweater draped over an arm, turned to see what the noise was about. Her eyes were on Aaron's face, then flickered down to his nether regions.
"Wha–"
Nine inches of pure, flaccid fuckmeat. Barbara gasped. Slowly, a hand clasped her mouth. Through her red bra, her nipples poked through. He pretended not to notice and put a hand on his hip, waiting patiently. Cassandra grabbed him by the arm, naked breasts and face broken into a shit-eating grin.
"Your penises are so small. Not like his." Cassandra gestured to his hanging dong, larger than the two bouncers combined. It was a silly sight. It wasn't like they were small but compared to Aaron they might as well have been below average. Even their scrotums seemed tiny, egg-shaped to Aaron's obscene fruits. "Longer and thicker than you two combined," she added, giggling.
Hearing a five-foot-five Asian chick tell them their dicks were small stung. They couldn't respond either. Physical violence wasn't an option for them as well. They were stuck there, forced to grant entry, humiliated.
"Looking good, Cass." His stolen arm slithered down to her and groped her rear. Discreetly, of course, Barbara couldn't find out. "Very pretty."
Her brown eyes met his lusty gaze, smiling deviously. "Mm." If this wasn't a mission, he would have dragged her into the sex club, laid her out, and fucked her in the ass.
Beside him, Barbara was gulping audibly. She was slightly ahead and couldn't tell he was groping her student's firm ass. She would have ignored it anyway, Aaron observed. An arm was across her chest and covered a portion of her breasts. While Cassandra was unashamed in her showing her cunt and tight ass, Barbara was not.
Especially because his swinging cock was so damn distracting.
"S-shall–we should go," Barbara cut herself and hurriedly went in. Her hips were flared and her booty was fat and mesmerizing.
'That neural implant sure was useful. Who said people with physical impairments couldn't have fat asses?'
Inside, he smelled and saw sex. Everybody wore masks, everybody fucked and moaned and nutted. The crowd was tight and they could only squeeze through. Barbara, a sexy redhead with big tits, child-bearing hips, turned a few heads and allowed open passage. But it was Aaron with his long, thick thwaping cock that really changed the air. Every step was a deafening clap of his cock and balls. Every step drew gasps and attention, mutters and awe.
He was the biggest. He was the best. That much they could see.
"W-woah!"
"Enormous…!"
"Giant…!"
Passing by an area with beds, there was a short man and a tall woman frozen in a missionary position. Heads turned, they were captivated by him. A short glance and the disparity in thickness was evident.
'There are two perfectly attractive women right beside me and ahead of me. Why just look at me?'
Indeed, it was like Cassandra and Barbara didn't exist. He did feel a little relieved that disgusting perverts weren't leering at Cassandra though. Even so, having all attention directed at him was strange. Was this the life of a woman? It felt like if he tripped up or made a mistake, he would want to off himself.
Whatever. He shrugged the attention off.
Suddenly, Cassandra tightened her grip on his arm. He wondered what was up before noticing her scowl. Then he heard their discreet audience clicking their tongues and voicing their complaints.
"What a waste…"
"Something of that size should be used by more than two women…"
As soon as they made it past the first crowd, they entered an area full of doggy-style fucking. It was also the final area before the door to the secret meeting. Arches of purple cloth were draping from the roof. Smoke and drugs contaminated the air. Aaron hated it.
"Right there," Barabra whispered, leaning towards Aaron, "we need to get there."
"A guard," Cassandra noted, then glancing down at the people fucking on the floor. "Plus, this."
"And of all things, the guard is wearing a Black Mask mask."
"Um, what?" Aaron asked in a whisper. Black Mask mask? What did that mean? Was that a villain? It looked like one with the dark skull aesthetic.
Barbara shook her head. "Nevermind."
They couldn't draw attention. Otherwise, the operation would be compromised.
"It's a mess," Barbara muttered, blushing. "We need a distraction."
Immediately, her gaze darted to Aaron and his endowment. She gulped and pressed her arm into her breasts deeper.
"Alright, I got it. I'll distract them." Aaron sighed. He could definitely fulfil his hypnosis' quota if he did something drastic.
"You sure?" Cassandra asked. She did not want to let go of him. She did not want to throw him into a pack of hungry wolves. Gently, he pushed her arms off him.
"I'll be fine. Go. You guys are the acrobatics here."
"T-thanks." Another stammer and glance from Barbara. "We…thanks!"
They stepped into the chaos. Aaron watched as their feet cautiously avoided the bodies. Cassandra was lithe and slipped through very easily. She was Cassandra Cain, of course she was able to do it. What surprised him was Barbara. She was three steps behind but still agile and quick.
'I wonder how strong she was in her prime,' Aaron pondered. 'With that kind of body, memory, and genius, she might have been able to reach Catwoman's level of ability.'
Goosebumps. Heat.
Aaron sensed someone behind him, spun back, and ran into dusky boobs. The woman was leaning forward, a smile on her face, hands on her knees, somewhat covering her breasts but mostly emphasizing.
The woman must have been well over six and a half feet tall. Easily two heads taller than if all he could see right now were titties. He glanced up. The tall woman was pretty with a wide smile and lusty orange eyes.
"Oh my goddd!"
"That's amazing!"
"So much bigger than my boyfriend!"
And the comparisons flooded in. Now that he was back to facing the crowd, all attention was squarely on his crotch. Aaron also didn't need superhuman hearing to hear the lamentation of the men.
"That's ridiculous…he's like twice my size and he's soft…"
"Fuck, I'm jealous."
"Bro, what…? Why can't my dick be that size?"
He was surrounded before he knew it. His eyes darted and counted up to ten women. Immediately, like a light bulb went off, he sprang into an erection. The woman who surprised him, with the white smile and mid-back wavy curly hair, was wide-eyed.
'...oh, right. Masks are optional.' Even so, it felt weird to be the only person wearing a mask–a Batman mask of all things too.
"Wow." She exhaled. "That is definitely the biggest dick that I've seen in my life."
Then came the smouldering feeling of boobs against his arms and back. More and more came and he sighed. He focused on his hearing. Bad idea.
"Ome, get back here!" a man demanded amidst the background. The footsteps of his girlfriend did not stop.
"His cock is sooo much bigger, love," Ome replied, much to his displeasure. "Just this once~"
Voices, squeals, snickers, and kisses. Again, it was a bad idea.
"Come on, Batman~"
"Big cock~"
"Give us some attention!"
Giggles and laughter and the smell of roses and strawberries and countless fruits. He could feel many hands lifting his shaft, reverring. He opened his eyes.
"Mm, love your baby makers."
"So amazing!"
Four chicks were underneath him, hands going up and down his sack. Two per oversized testicle; a shiny long-haired Latino and a bald African, and two silky haired Arab women.
Then there were the ladies surrounding his hardening cock. Cooing and blowing cold air over his length. Three heads at each side and another two at the bellend. It was insane. It was ridiculous. He was like a harem god stealing everyone's bitches. A couple of them even wore ring fingers.
"Mmm, he's three times bigger than my husband."
"Look at those veins~"
"His balls are bigger than my hubby's fists!"
They seemed to recognize that fact and burst into another round of giddy praise. The husbands, boyfriends, and dates of some of the ladies became hard but couldn't even come close to reaching his size. They stood by, however, recognizing his superiority. He was allowed to fuck their wives and girlfriends. That was the law of the sex club.
'Damn. They really aren't going to reprimand me? I guess there's a reason Gotham City is known for its sex clubs. God damn.'
Exhaling, his gaze moved from women to women. To the sides of his shaft were black chicks. Six with unique hair styles: large shiny twists, long yarn braids, bantu knots, puffy curls, box braid bun, and a half-up braided bun.
At the front of his cock were the Latino babes. A lighter woman with loose, long indigo hair. A symbol of being unmarried. She was particularly taken by his phenomenally girthy circumcised head. Her tongue sat on her lips, waiting. Beside her were two married women. One a trophy wife with short black hair, her side bangs plaited and tied over her forehead. Another with sizable space buns like Princess Leia from Star Wars.
"Just because they're praising your big bad cock doesn't mean you should ignore us," a sultry voice whispered into his right ear, comforting his arm with pillowy mounds. The middle-eastern woman was a redhead and smirked precariously.
Opposite to her was an amazon of a woman. She was physically alike to the guards, grand and imposing, muscular and inhuman. Her fat titties were casually sitting on his head.
"Big cock, big balls, Batman," she said, smirking. Her words stirred something in him and his cock twitched. The amazon-like woman peered down at him. Having a bob cut, she looked sexy as fuck. "Mmm. Biggest cock, biggest balls."
The left side of his face was suddenly buried by her jugs.
Behind was a brunette with massive titties, rivalling Jaina and White Rabbit. She giggled and put her chin on his shoulder.
Twelve women. Naked. Horny. Thirsty.
Fifty spectators watching in envy and awe.
God.
At this rate, he was going to fuck all these women. He was going to demolish this club. He was going to put the word hedonist in the Hedonist Society. What would Cassandra and Barbara say when they returned?
'Fuck, fuck, fuck…!'
Pre-cum leaked. The mere whiff of it caused chaos. Somebody pulled down on his sack hard whilst several wet tongues slobbered over his tip.
"Cum! Cum!"
"Mmm! It's completely different from my hubby's!"
"Soooo good!"
His cock twitched again. He wanted to lather them in his baby batter. Unfortunately, as he had been staring into the eyes of these women, naturally creating eye contact, his hypnosis had activated over and over again.
Twelve times, his hypnosis activated. Twelve times, it had the opportunity to grow.
Something snapped in Aaron. A realization. A breakthrough. An understanding.
The fragrance of sex and desire tainted everyone here, including Aaron, so he adapted. He learned. He remembered.
"You answer to me…right?" Aaron asked. The club grew silent. The claps of flesh stopped. A pin could be heard dropping.
Then, he received heart-eyes and screams.
"Yes! Yes, we do! Everything belongs to you."
It wasn't just the twelve women who screamed their obedience. The men did as well. The spectators, the watchers, were under his spell.
How?
It was as the Manhunter said: he could do anything as long as he willed it–as long as he had the mind for it. A grasp of its intent and usage. Including, of course, Poison Ivy's legendary pheromones.
He copied it. He copied Poison Ivy's near-unstoppable pheromones.
Aaron Reigner could now exude sexual pheromones of his own. He suspected it was stronger than Ivy's given how easily every single person here fell into the chemical.
The telepathic linkup put a little stress on his head but it was nothing crazy. He was able to organize it like shuffling a document of papers.
The guard. Standing at the door, silent, he was also under his control. Cassandra and Barbara had already slipped past him. There was no need to waste time.
Like Moses parting the sea, the crowd of sex addicted men and women backed away and allowed him to reach the guard without interference. This was great, he wouldn't have to step through a bunch of people fucking doggy-style.
His erection faded and fell onto his thigh like thunder. The guard in the skull mask didn't react. The man was a foot taller than Aaron but had a dick four times smaller.
"Did the Chinese girl and redhead go this way?" Aaron asked.
"Yes," the guard responded. "They had VIP passes and claimed to be coming on the Penguin's behalf."
"Who is in there now?"
"Bruno Mannheim, El Penitente, the Great White Whale, Johnny Stitches, Gabriel Santo, and a representative of East Side Dragons."
"Good memory," Aaron praised. "Treat yourself to that tall chick with the bob cut back there. Maybe the two of you can procreate the next NBA star." The guard did not waste a second and dashed to the intended woman. He could hear them smooching loudly. Aaron didn't look back as he announced, "The rest of you: get back to your regular schedule."
He promptly opened the door and went in. Behind him, in muffles, he could hear the club begin anew. There was a hall and at the end of it was a door with several guards, all on the floor and unconscious.
"Must have been Cass and Barbara…" he muttered.
The first guard was likely an employee of the club. He didn't know what was happening nor the vital contents of what he was guarding. These guys were naked, sure, but built for battle. He saw tattoos belonging to the Russian mafia: a six-sided star.
Above, the ventilation shaft was hanging open. To eavesdrop on the room, he suspected Cassandra and Barbara climbed into the vents.
'But…wait, why is the door open then?'
He checked the metal knob. Indeed, it was loose and unlockable.
'Was somebody trying to get out and failed…?'
His deductive mind understood the jist of what happened. It wasn't good.
"Don't tell me…" Sighing wearily, with his arms pushing forward, he entered the meeting room. Inside was a circular table and a dozen seats, all trashed and wrecked. The Great White Whale, Bruno Mannheim, El Penitente; the recognizable faces were drooling and bruised. It was a contained space and gave little for combat. Darkly-lit, secret rather than well-protected as the schematics had stated.
Speaking of Barbara, the voluptuous redhead was currently ragging on the leader of Intergang.
"Wake up, wake up, wake up…!" Barbara was squatting on the table and shaking the square-shaped male. Her shapely ass was jutting out. "God, if I wasn't rusty, we wouldn't have gotten caught…"
Before Aaron could speak, Cassandra appeared beside him. "Hi."
A little wave. Aaron chuckled. "Hey."
"Oh! You're here!" Barbara craned back and sent a smile. Through her mask, he saw her eyes drift down to his crotch and she blushed like a ripe tomato. Instantly, she went back to badgering the unconscious Bruno Mannheim.
"Let me guess: you guys got caught and had to knock everyone out?"
Cassandra crossed her arms under her bust. "Mhm."
"I…" A deep, frustrated exhale from Barbara. She released Bruno, walked on the table, and leapt down to them. "It was my fault. I was rusty. If Cassandra had gone by herself, we would have been able to hear the entirety of their plans. All we managed to hear before I fell out of the ventilation system was that their investors have started to pull out."
'Investors have started to pull out…? Ha, so it's working. My plan is working.'
The Russian mafia and Intergang–it didn't matter who but to facilitate a base in Gotham they needed the support of local riches. Which, during Bruce Wayne's birthday party, he managed to usurp.
Stage three was in full effect. Criminals after mere weeks were starting to feel the sudden lack in support. Lady Shiva defeated those who threatened with physical violence.
He glanced at Cassandra, then back at Barbara. Sweating from the fight, her round, luscious boobs shining and perky.
"How long will it take for these guys to wake up?" Aaron asked. He already knew the answer but he did have a part to play.
"One hour. We hit hard," Cassandra said, weakly slamming a fist into her palm.
"Bringing these guys outside will be impossible," Barbara stated, putting a hand on her hip. He pretended not to see the jiggle in her tits. "There's no windows for us to exploit here. The vents are also too small for the men."
"What should we do then?" Aaron wasn't sure if his pheromones would work on an unconscious person. He had never tested it.
Barbara went into a thinking pose, palm cradling her chin. He looked between Cassandra, grimacing, then Aaron, flushing as her eyes gravitated to his crotch. To maintain her dignity, she pulled herself up and cleared her throat. "Ahem! Cass, you should go outside. Yes, make sure to, uh, keep watch. Also, hit those guards in the head again. We don't want them listening in."
Cassandra saluted her. Before fully out the door, her fingers slipped out and gave a little wave. "Bye!"
Thud. The double-door closed shut.
The room stilled. It was Aaron and Barbara. Her gravitating eye and his limp dick.
"S-so, uh…we're waiting." Barbara cleared her throat for the umpteenth time. There was no bile remaining in her throat. "We wait."
A smile crept up his face. Her blush was going from her cheeks down to her neck. The rest of her complexion was like snow in comparison.
Then there was her ass. Barbara Gordon, the first Batgirl, didn't just have cake, she had a whole bakery. The iconic photos seen within the night of the internet were illuminated here. The thick, sporty booty.
Aaron could feel his dick twitch. He observed her ass as she went forward and sat on the table. Eye contact was made. Him standing, his horse-like cock dangling, and her sitting, her pussy slightly exposed. She very easily could have clamped her legs together but no.
Barbara Gordon was glistening. Aaron could sense the shift in the air. Once again, he noted her glancing at his body. He did the same.
"So…" Barbara trailed off, hands gripping the table like a teacher about to announce a grave set of news. "Um…you're very…well-endowed."
"I like to think I'm average," Aaron replied, feigning ignorance.
Barbara gulped, took another long look at his manhood, then glanced at a bald African-American slumped in a chair. "D-did you know that that's also Tobias Whale?"
"Huh?" Aaron followed her gaze. The dark-skinned male was tall and buff, a hulking monster of a specimen, but he did not look like the Great White Whale that Barbara described. "What do you mean?"
"See, there's actually two Tobias Whales. One is an imposter and the nephew of the real one. A pale imitation. That's the big blob behind us." Without looking, she jabbed her thumb at her south. He was a blob, alright. It was difficult to imagine that all that flesh was muscle. "However, the real one is the one to your left. He's also Black Lightning's real nemesis. I didn't think he would be here, to be honest, so I didn't mention him during the briefing. My bad."
Not a big deal, frankly. Before the mission Aaron might have freaked out but with his newly acquired pheromones, the nemesis of Black Lightning was as susceptible as everyone else.
"I…why?" That was his only question. Who would in their right believe an Albino man could pretend to be an African American?
"Apparently, the nephew wanted to be like his uncle so badly that he stole his name." Barbara shrugged. "Typical supervillain families."
"Wait, how did you beat the real Tobias Whale so easily then?" Aaron asked. "If he's Black Lightning's nemesis, he should have been hard to beat, right?"
"I didn't beat him, Cassandra did. When I crashed down, while still in the vents, she scanned the room for the most dangerous opponent and picked the real Tobias out. Before he could even get up from his chair, Cassandra, um…" Barbara gestured at the man and it was then Aaron noticed his deflated nutsack. "...she stomped on his testicles and crushed them."
"Oh." Aaron winced. He eyed the real Tobias Whale again. Six-foot-nine, built like the most robust NBA player–his penis was suited for his size, about four inches flaccid. However, without his family jewels, his manhood was lifeless. The colour seemed to have been drained from his dark complexion. "Remind me not to mess with Cass."
'With that kind of injury, my eyes are saying it'll take him twelve hours to wake up. Maybe another three or four hours depending on how well his brain copes with the loss of his…baby factory.'
Yeah, there was no way Tobias Whale was having kids. Cassandra had been ruthless in her surprise attack. Aaron tried not to pity him too much. He was a crime lord, after all.
"Um, yeah." Barbara's green eyes flickered again. "I doubt she'd be doing it with yours. They seem…big."
Suddenly ashamed, Barbara scratched the temple side of her mask.
Aaron chuckled. There was no use denying it. There was a reason Barbara sent Cassandra outside and it wasn't just for the mission.
"Wanna fuck?" he asked.
She sucked in a breath. "God–YES!"
He dashed towards her and crashed his lips into hers. Barbara on the table, Aaron standing, while surrounded by unconscious crime lords. This was easily the worst place to have sex but neither of them could stop. They were already getting handsy with each other.
"Oh!" Barbara gasped. A hand between her legs, his finger teased her wet folds. Up, down, gentle yet accurate. "Y-you…you're quite experienced, huh?"
Her nails scratched his back and she threw her head backwards, engulfed in the whims of his fingers. She spread her strong, thick legs.
"G-god! Oh my gosh~!" Her voice cracked and went into a high-pitch. Her clit pinched, followed up by a smooth outline of her labia, she convulsed and sighed in relief. "Y-your fingers are…"
Nimble? Godly? Aaron settled with, "Amazing?"
"I've had amazing experiences before but this is…more…mmmph!" Barbara slapped her hand over her mouth and stifled a shameless moan. "I–ooh~! I'm u-usually not like this! I-it's hard! It's supposed to be hard for me to cum!"
"Why is that?" Aaron asked. He flicked a third finger. A gasp. "See? It doesn't matter if your spine was damaged, you can still be my little slut."
"Y-yes!" Barbara heaved, her bosom expanding close to his lips. "I'm your little slut! Your little Bat Whore!"
'No pheromones, no hypnosis, and she's already breaking. Just how horny was Barbara Gordon for some dick?'
"Creative. I like it." He pulled his drenched fingers as well as his body. "Now how about you show me just how much you appreciate being my little whore."
"Y-yes!" Barbara slid off the table and dropped down to her knees. Her hands snaked up his leg and stroked his thick cock. "Are penises supposed to come this size…? It's so thick and long."
"How about you give it a little life," Aaron suggested, gripping her pointy bat ears. Fuck, he had always wanted to hold those things. With Barbara wearing the cowl while stripped, he could fulfil the lifelong male fantasy.
"S-sure."
Intimidated yet resolute, her hands began serving him. She wasn't nearly as skilled as he had hoped but her desperation and vigour made up for it. Smooth strokes going up and down, fingers encircling and pumping sensually. She was scanning for sensitive zones.
From his thigh, from her efforts, blood flowed. Barbara held her breath as she watched it rise higher and higher. Every time she thought it would stop growing, it continued. It was nothing like she had seen in the past. It was a cock of unparalleled proportions.
"W-wow…" Barbara, in spite of her astonishment, maintained her strokes. Jerking him off like a small amateur pornstar taking on a behemoth of a cock. Except Barbara was not a small woman in the slightest. Five-foot-eleven, she towered over the average Gotham male. Her hands weren't huge but they were certainly not average for a woman.
Yet she felt small. Humbled.
His cock extended over her lips, past the ears of her cowl, and up into her beautiful hair.
Eventually, through trial and error, she found his weak area in the portion of his glans. The mushroom-like head's ridges were like a recipe for intense throbbing and pre-cum.
"How long has it been since you've seen a dick?" Aaron asked, noticing her eager movements. "A month? Two months?"
"Nearly a year and a half. I haven't been with anyone. Not since Dick broke up with me."
The irony wasn't lost on him. "Dick's dick?"
"Mhm." Barbara bit the bottom of her lip. Aaron and the famed Nightwing shared identical body types, from their lean arms, sculpted upper bodies, toned torsos, to their V-cuts. They were not twins, however: her ex-boyfriend being broader and overall thicker. A difference in lifestyle and training rather than a conscious difference. Aaron could very easily achieve Nightwing's attractive, female-drawn physique if he tried.
In Barbara's opinion, however, Aaron didn't need to. While they shared many physical features, there was a huge distinction in one area of the body, past the muscles and V-line, the most standout aspect of the male biology: their manhoods. Despite the twin lines pointing to their family jewels, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say Barbara was looking at completely different organs. While Dick Grayson stood at a respectable seven inches, a rock hard phallus worthy of the playboy, Aaron was slinging nine inches soft, not to mention he was significantly thicker.
The craziest contrast was the balls. Dick's nutsack was average but packed quite the punch. Aaron on the other hand? It looked and seemed like it packed a punch. Literally, his testicles were the size of fists. Strangely enough, it wasn't ridiculous. It wasn't too baggy, too tight or wrinkly–it was a perfect pouch that wasn't bigger than it should have been. It was beyond porn but it wasn't freakish or cartoony.
"Amazing…" Barbara muttered.
And now it was at full must. The longest, fattest cock was at completion. Harder than steel, hotter than the insides of Barbara's pussy, and much veinier than Dick's above average prick. It wasn't like the Flying Grayson was small either, nor was he a terrible lover. In fact, he was phenomenal–attentive and skilled, with nimble fingers and a robust cock.
It was merely misfortune that the boy wonder was competing against Aaron Reigner, the Chosen One. A stroke of horrendous luck.
"Nightwing is dating Starfire, right?" Aaron's erection bobbed above her awed face. "Don't be jealous. You're gorgeous too."
"N-not next to her." Barbara gulped, afraid and excited. "She's got a bigger butt than me, bigger boobs–"
"Trust me. You are beautiful." He caressed the top of her cowl. "If you weren't, then I wouldn't be this hard."
Barbara bit her bottom lip, contemplative. Aaron throbbed. For an instant, his words and actions got through to her. Then, it subsided, the loneliness and self-deprecation shifting her features downwards.
'Are all Batgirls incapable of loving themselves?'
First Cassandra, now Barbara.
He pulsed again, jerking off the base of his cock. This time, the gesture meant a little more to her.
"Hah…thank you." A gulp. She stayed there on her knees, pussy gushing, her eyes wide in anticipation. "What do you feed that thing? It's bigger than Dick and Luke's combined…"
"Luke? Luke Fox?" Aaron raised a brow. "You dated him?"
"Years ago," Barbara said dismissively. "He was average and smaller than Dick but you…" She huffed. She nervously stuck out her tongue and licked a long vein. Slowly, slowly, slowly, as if tasting flesh. "Mmmph. Yours tastes so good too…"
Her cowl on, tongue reaching out, it looked so pathetic and porn-like. It was amazing. Her fingers seemed delicate as they went for the base and travelled to and fro.
His member became harder than a pipe. The cool air of the secret meeting room amplified the arousing tension. Her breathing stirred up and hastened.
"Oh god, you're so big... I-I don't know if you'll fit in my tiny pussy."
To have such a tall, smart woman whimper and submit under his cock was dreamy. Aaron sharply inhaled. "How about we test it out?"
Like one of his most faithful harem members, the redhead got up and spread her legs on the table. Back lying on the flat surface, she was gushing and glistening with her girly sap, her green eyes staring at his cock like a virgin. Just how many years had it been since she had sex like this? Aaron couldn't fathom a guess. Barbara said she saved the neural implant for emergencies only. He doubted sex was urgent enough to warrant its use.
Unfortunate for Dick Grayson, fortunate for Aaron Reigner.
He slapped his cock on her labia, a taste of what was to come. Barbara inhaled. Her tits were large and heaving up and down. It was like she had been doused in icy cold water, her body and mind attempting to recover from the stimulation. In this case, the source was his throbbing cock.
"Please…fuck me."
"With pleasure," Aaron replied. Her pointed ankles slipped into his practiced hands. He caressed her toes and the soles of her feet, causing an unwanted reaction for her.
"Oh?" He quirked a brow. "Your feet are quite sensitive."
"S-shut up…" she murmured. Aaron chuckled.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm just teasing."
While still quietly massaging her feet, his hips dipped back. Back, back, back, till his thick knob was rubbing her cunt.
"Inside…" Barbara begged. Her pussylips seemed to react as well, seemingly folding after his thick member. "Just…fuck me already!"
"You've been away from cock for too long," Aaron said. "I'll take it slow.
That was what he did. He took it inch by inch. Every second was a slow immersion of his cock. Stretching, stretching, stretching…
"G-gosh! It's so thick! Your dick is so–mmph!" Another attempt to clamp her noises. Reaching the seven inch mark, there was a strange wetness. A region of thick, wet honey that other men had assumed was her limit–that had conditioned Barbara into thinking this was her sweetest spot.
It wasn't.
"Mmmph! Nggghhh…!"
Aaron went deeper. Slow, of course, but he went so fuck deeper that he might as well have been jack hammering into her. Her nose was flaring as it grasped for air. Eventually, it was too little.
"Oh my god, oh my god! Oh god!" Her hands at her side, squirming, Barbara could now let out her voice. Her desires. "It's so thick a-and deep! It's…everywhere! I've…never! Mmmph! I've never had a cock like this! So big, so–oooh~! Incredible~!"
Barbara Gordon, the original Batgirl, came. Her orgasm spread across her body, from her arms down to her legs. Shaking, shaking, shaking, and moaning like a whore. Her walls were clamping down on him hard. This was unexplored, untainted, and he could tell her insides were struggling to adjust.
As the high wore off, Barbara controlled her breathing. "Deep breaths…deep breaths…remember your physiotherapy…"
Aaron stared at her. Her face was hidden but he could sense the tenderness in her. Like Cassandra and Stephanie, he wanted to give her the world. "You're Batgirl, aren't you?"
Barbara placed a hand on her throat, gulping and relaxing, before replying. "Y-yeah?"
"Remember, these crime boss guys aren't going to stay awake forever. We should hurry it up."
It was like she had totally forgotten about that. She tilted her cowl to the side and hiccuped. She licked her lips, nervously glanced at the inferior males again, and then nodded. "Do it."
Table missionary sex was fun. Way too much fun. You could use your partner as a pussy sleeve; or a living dildo.
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap–!
One would think he was fucking her doggy-style but no. Aaron Reigner fucked so hard and fast that the sounds of flesh clapping remained consistent across the board, no matter the position.
"Oh–! Oh–! Oh–! Oh my god~! Oh my god!"
In Aaron's case, it was pussy sleeve. Although he couldn't fuck at full speeds due to his swinging balls, he managed a pace that was mind-numbingly orgasmic. Barbara Gordon didn't know what hit her.
"Big, big, big! So big! Why is it so big!?"
Barbara didn't regret it either. The fleshy echoes were like music to her ears. She felt at home, like she was Oracle all over again, except with a stimulation a million times stronger and better.
"Oooh! Don't stop fucking me, please don't stop fucking me~! I love it! I love it! This is what I've been missing all my life! This is what Batgirl needs! This is what she wants! What she deserves~!" Barbara's arms were spread behind her, trying to tank the force of his relentless thrusts. To her, however, they were like kisses.
For Aaron, watching her tits bounce and shake were also like kisses. He didn't need to suck on them. He found himself growing harder and faster by observation alone. Hard red nipples supported by large ivory mounds.
Each stroke was making her forget more and more about her ex. All the memories she shared were beginning to mean nothing to her as she came her brains out all over his cock.
"Inside or out," Aaron asked, choosing to ask first. Look at that, character development, he thought to himself.
"O-out! Not inside, not inside! I'm ovulating today! I'm ovulating! I'm so fucking horny b-but I can't have children!"
A rational line of thought, as expected from Oracle. In general, Aaron asked because he didn't want to accidentally fuck up her insides and hurt her. The implant was temporary, after all.
He thrusted inside her, letting her gasp out another long climax, and then pulled out. His cock throbbed wildly and he used a hand to jerk himself off to completion.
Spurt, spurt, spurt!
His cumshots were like gunshots. Each of them wowed Barbara and caused her to wince in anticipation. The initial wave hurled to her cowl and painted the highly-sophisticated metal in his essence. Groaning quietly, he continued stroking himself and coaxing a stronger load. Jets of white flew over, some actually flying past her cowl and onto the table.
"O-oh gosh, there's so much…!" Barbara's voice croaked out after recuperating from her climax.
He decided to tone it down and aim his throbbing cock lower. He finished all over her stomach and tits. By the end, she was a mess of his thick, white gooey nut. She was panting. Exhausted. Totally out of fuel.
"I…I need a second…" Her head was flat on the table and stared up at the ceiling. Beneath her cowl, her eyes fluttered shut. "...rest…"
Barbara was so drained that she didn't notice her surroundings. One of the crime lords, a blonde, started to stir. Aaron did and he activated his pheromones on the spot.
"You serve me," Aaron said. "Obey me. After this meeting, you will peacefully talk with Jaina Hudson, a Gotham socialite. She will give you instructions. Obey everything she says too."
A low murmur. A yes.
Aaron glanced back at the cum-coated Barbara Gordon. She hadn't heard a thing, her brain ringing from the sex.
His ears twitched. Behind him, the door creaked. Aaron spun on his feet. "What…?"
There was only one person behind the door: Cassandra. If the door had been slightly open, then…
'Did she watch? Did she watch me fuck her mentor?' Aaron hesitated. If Cassandra potentially had feelings for him, then wouldn't she have stormed in and stopped the two of them? 'She's always been overprotective of me, but…I know it can't be my pheromones. I gave her an order to be able to ignore my metahuman powers. That includes me giving orders to people so I don't need to worry on that front either. So why was she watching then? Wait...'
Cassandra liked watching him fuck another woman…? That…was certainly a possibility. Perhaps it was simpler; perhaps she was too nervous to intrude. He had been going at it pretty hard.
A groan. This time, it was the fake Tobias Whale. The nephew of the real Tobias Whale. A wannabe. The whale. Aaron's pheromones were in full effect. Whoever woke up would immediately fall under his control with the exception of Barbara.
Barbara Gordon was…well…
"Mmm…it was…so…thick…"
Delirious. Insane. In her current state, she wanted cock, not perfume. It wouldn't affect her unless he shoved his cock while it was drowned in his supernatural fragrance.
One by one, the crime lords opened their eyes. One by one, they fell under his control and were told to follow the same order: obey Jaina Hudson and her instructions.
Stage three was sailing smoothly.
***
The original mission was finished. Barbara and Cassandra managed to torture the information from the crime lord: apparently, there were rumours of a new organization and today's meeting was regarding its legitimacy. Little did anyone know, said organization's leader was in the room, pretending to be a civilian.
He let the girls have their fun. He didn't bother to make it easy for them with a subtle use of his pheromones. No, he wanted to see them work. Suffice to say, there was a reason the Batgirls were feared.
"Crazy bitches–"
A fist slammed into the bleeding nose and Johnny Stitches blacked out. Cassandra looked quite proud of herself.
"Sorry about that," Barbara said, smiling thinly. For the tenth time today, her boobs jiggled as she put her hands on her hips. "It can get a bit loud."
Indeed it had. Besides Johnny Stitches' decked nose, Cassandra had been threatening to chop off Tobias Whale's penis like in Game of Thrones. The once powerful, disciplined nemesis of Black Lightning coughed up the information like a lowly grunt. His balls were already crushed, there was no reason for her not to avoid his prized member. After that, the other crime lords quickly fell into place.
Plus, there was Aaron standing behind the girls with his giant cock. They already felt low in the self-esteem department.
"I'm guessing this is a Batman method of torture?" Aaron asked.
"Mhm." Cassandra latched on Aaron's arm, breasts squished pleasantly. "Old school."
"I see," Aaron replied, smiling down at her.
Barbara giggled and he could feel her gaze on his flaccid cock. She really was a Bat Whore. It had taken them so long to clean her, yet she wanted more? It was a miracle they had been able to find tissues in the first place…
The three of them exited the meeting area and stepped over the guards outside. Their steps echoed through the small hall…
"Barbara?"
Somewhere in the middle, Barbara had stopped. He and Cassandra were ahead yet she remained completely still. A drawn out sigh escaped her.
"Crap…"
"What's wrong?" Aaron asked, alarmed. "Did you forget something?"
"I can't feel my legs," Barbara said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "This sucks."
"W-what happened?" Aaron asked, going by her side. He was hesitant to touch her since she was naked. Aaron was many things but he did his best not to be a hypocrite. Don't touch people unless they give explicit permission.
Fuck, he knew what happened.
"I can barely walk. Sorry, guys." Barbara sighed again and leaned onto Cassandra. "The neural implant must have malfunctioned. I knew this would happen…"
Because of him.
He must have fucked her too hard and her neural implant was malfunctioning as a result. Despite her predicament, Barbara didn't panic. She was as calm and cool as a cucumber as Cassandra had her arm on her shoulder and supported her limping. Aaron wasn't risking it.
"How numb are your legs?" he asked.
"Up to the halfway point, I can't feel anything. So like from my feet to my knees. Well, actually, I can still move my knees–"
"Lean on me," Aaron said. "I'm as tall as you. It'll feel better."
Cassandra slowly pushed her mentor onto Aaron. He could feel her heating up, her breasts pressed to his side and her arms secured on his naked waist. As much as Aaron pretended he wasn't enjoying this, he was, but he also had a job to do.
'Make a subtle path for me and the redhead.'
A telepathic order. He had never tried it but hopefully it would work. If he said the order out loud, Barbara would have heard. He didn't want to hypnotize her into not noticing his metahuman powers like Cassandra.
Barbara of all people deserved autonomy. The guilt would wrack on him if he hypnotized her.
The door opened.
His experiment worked.
The members of the Hedonist Society, although occupied by sweaty sex, paved a path for them. Barbara sighed in relief when she saw the convenience. She didn't suspect that it was Aaron's doing. No one did.
'My powers evolved again.' Aaron smiled to himself and held Barbara close.
Once they were outside, the secretary brought them their clothes. Before, they hadn't caught his full form but now…
Barbara hid her giggle behind a cough.
The ponytailed man's penis was tiny, like an acorn. As soon as their clothes were back on and they were in the elevator, all he and Cassandra could talk about was the secretary's lack of endowment. Despite the hiccups, the mission was fun. The drive home had a lively atmosphere.
Settled in the back of the taxi, sandwiched between Aaron and Cassandra, Barbara sighed. "Thank you guys. You did amazing. Especially you, Aaron. You might have a talent for this."
"Thanks," he replied, smiling.
"How did you distract them anyways?" she asked. "Did you swing your…you know?"
"Pfft!" The two of them burst into laughter. Aaron shook his head, grinning. "Nothing like that. I just talked to them."
"Oh, yeah?" Barbara proceeded to take off her cowl. From her pocket, she took out her glasses and used the stern librarian aesthetic to bolster her penetrating gaze. "Describe talking."
"...think compliments and praising."
"Right…"
While he and Barbara engaged in conversation, Cassandra was deathly silent. During the car ride, he wondered what exactly was going through her mind. He could sense the whirl of colours and sensations through the Emotional Spectrum.
Right up till the end of the car ride, he couldn't make sense of it.