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Marry The Knight	By : Ksennin Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 96985 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics, the Batman franchise, or any other Batman characters. I make no money from publishing this story.

Chapter List
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Harley was sleeping soundly next to Ivy, and Ivy was sleeping soundly next to her. But even if they were sleeping very, very lightly they wouldn’t have heard Bruce as he entered the room.
His footfalls were absolutely silent, blending into the whispering sounds of the pipes, the air conditioning, their own breathing. He went to the two women and gently uncorked the vial in his hand. In a moment, its liquid contents had reacted with the oxygen in the room, creating a colorless gas. Bruce kept it well away from his face, even with his breath-mask securely affixed.
He dosed Ivy first. Her gentle snoring stopped, her REM dwindling to nothingness; her already sound sleep becoming something deep and dreamless. Then he did the same to Harley.
The clown was absolutely insensate as he corked the vial once more, replaced in his pocket, and picked her up as easily as he would a sack of grain.
Ivy hogged the covers more tightly, suddenly feeling a little cold.
***
In a dingy, dimly-lit apartment deep in the Flattops, Roxy Rocket smoked a cigarette as filthy as the rest of the place.
Imagine. Batman trying to set her up at Bruce Wayne’s Home for Wayward Bitches. The would-be Playboy Mansion of the Secret Society of Supervillains Set. Like she would let herself get tied down to some ball and chain. Maybe she’d give it up to Batman; he looked like a good fuck and so did his twink friends. But Bruce Wayne? Wasn’t he gay?
She’d said as much to Batman. Well, she hadn’t said anything to Batman. He wasn’t the kind of guy you contradicted. But she had laughed off his little arranged marriage. Bruce Wayne! What was she supposed to do with all his money, buy things? Where was the thrill in that? What would she buy, anyway? Vibrators for Ivy and Harley to use on her? That seemed about the only good thing that could possibly come out of her going on pussy parole.
Her laptop beeped. Roxy sat up on her couch, the motion putting one more lump in it. A new job? Maybe Calendar Girl again? That bitch was crazy, and crazy chicks made the best lays.
She opened it up, looked at the video suddenly playing on her screen. She hadn’t even opened an e-mail. It was just going.
And it looked a lot like Harley Quinn there in the middle…
***
Harley woke up confused in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Something was different. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She was naked, and there was a straitjacket holding her, and Ivy was gone…
Oh, it was that Bruce was there. That was it. The room was like a small dentist’s office, with white padding covering all the walls, and a gurney in the middle of the room dominating it. A big black window which showed only reflections took up the better part of the far wall. It almost looked like one-way glass. And Bruce wasn’t dressed in a leisure suit or anything. He wore… a robe.
His legs were hairy. His chest was hairy. He was naked underneath.
“It’s time for you to earn my cock, Harley.”
Harley shivered, a sympathetic tremor suddenly going through her. “Yes, Mistah Bee.”
He petted her hair. She strained for more of his touch. She’d seen what it was like for Ivy, getting fucked by him. She wanted that. She wanted that so bad. “I just need you to answer a question for me.”
“Yes, Mistah Bee, anything!”
His hand ran down her straitjacket, picking at the buckles like he was thinking of releasing her. Harley almost couldn’t help herself. She struggled and Bruce put his palm flat on her chest, effortlessly holding her down. She moaned helplessly.
When she fell still, Bruce continued. “Are you ready for the question?”
His hand went lower. Down to her cunt. She was so wet already… Harley nodded frantically.
“The question is… am I better than the Joker?”
Harley froze. All except her eyes. She couldn’t stop blinking. “Buh… better?”
“Yes, Harley.” He toyed with a finger in-between her labia, like he was curious at how her folds felt. “Am I better than him?”
“Well, at-um, at what? Because he’s pretty good at killing people, I’ll tell you what! Not that you’d be bad at killing people, if ya really wanted to… Mistah Bee…”
Still more casually, Bruce reached up and touched her clit. He seemed almost bored by it. His clipped, calm strokes seemed nearly disinterested in how he was bringing Harley to the brink of orgasm. “Am I better than the Joker at making you come?”
“Well, I mean…” Harley’s eyes were wandering, slowly going cross-eyed. “I mean… I mean, that’s not really fair… I can’t really say… haven’t earned your cock yet…”
“You’ve had my finger,” Bruce said, his voice almost distant now. “Hasn’t my finger made you come?”
“Yuh… yeah… I…” Harley gasped suddenly. He’d pushed down, hard, on her clitoris. “I guess so! But it’s not the same… same…”
“Has Joker ever made you come?”
“That is—“ Harley grinded her eyes shut. “That is a very private… a lady does not… would you want me to tell him if you make me come?”
“Say I’m the best you’ve ever had and I’ll make you come like I did Ivy.”
Harley remembered. She remembered how Bruce had been behind Ivy, like a dog with a bitch, and then he’d lunged forward with all the power in his big, muscular body. Ivy had screamed and yelled like she was on fire, feeling her ass expand, then yield—Bruce’s cock inside her where no man had ever been.
Harley remembered seeing that tender little asshole, that had never taken anything bigger than a little feeler vine or Harley’s tongue, suddenly many times its normal size. Suddenly just slightly bigger than Bruce’s impossible cock. She’d heard Ivy gasp in pain, but her bestie had also jerked her hips back to take even more of his dick.
Harley imagined Bruce fucking her in the ass, pushing into the clenching confines of an asshole that had never taken anything bigger than Ivy’s fist, then fucking in and out of her. Her pink muscles clinging to his cock as he pulled out, then being pushed back in as he thrust into her. Every time going a little deeper into her ass. Every time, a new, low moan of masochistic pleasure. She’d come so hard. Even harder than Ivy had.
“You’re… you’re good—soooo good, you’re great!”
“I’m better than the Joker,” Bruce told her.
Harley formed the words with her lips, but couldn’t quite say them. “You’re… better… than… Red!”
Bruce picked her up, only to put her down on the gurney. There were straps hanging from the sides of it. He began to buckle them, tying Harley down.
“You’re so much better than Poison Ivy!” Harley said. “I’m not even gay, I’m not even gay! I’m straight! You’ve made me straight as an arrow, that’s how good you are! Not even a green arrow, we all know he’s gay for Green Lantern, but, like, uh, a different colored arrow? Is Red Arrow married to a lady? That’s how straight I am! I mean, not that I’d be married to a lady…”
“I’ll ask you again tomorrow,” Bruce said, as he picked up the gag. Harley started to scream in dismay just as he clamped it over her mouth. “I understand it’s not fair, asking you to judge before I’ve had you. Maybe if you see how I do, then you’ll be better able to decide.”
He flicked a switch on the wall. The glass tinged translucent, letting her see through it darkly. On the other side was Calendar Girl, in civilian clothes but still with her mask. And sitting on the bed of the bedroom beside her was Wonder Woman.
Oh, she wore a chiffon and sandals and not even a small tiara, but Harley knew it was her.
She screamed into her gag again, but Bruce was already closing the door behind him.
***
As she relaxed, and watched, Roxy’s hand dropped to where her skirt folded between her legs. Not really aware of it, she pulled the hem up, up, up her thighs, until she felt the room’s cool air on her panties. It didn’t feel right. When she’d taken her panties off, it was much better.
The laptop’s view changed to that of another room. Bruce Wayne was in there now. There were two other women with him.
***
“Good, you’re here,” Diana said. “Now we can begin.”
She favored Paige Monroe with a soft smile, but the effort was wasted on Paige. “I see. You want to mock how ugly I am! Well, you didn’t have to go to all the trouble of getting Wonder Woman here to show me how a woman’s supposed to look like. I know how hideous I am.”
“That’s not it at all, Paige,” Bruce said, sitting down on the other side of her from Diana. “Diana’s a close personal friend. I thought maybe you’d listen to her about a few things.”
“That’s right. I don’t think you belong in Arkham, or in Blackgate either. You belong on a pedestal, where you were once before.” Diana touched Paige’s thigh. Her touch was warm and soft. “I’ve read up on you. You did such good things. Charities, fundraisers, relief efforts. You even used her private yacht to rescue people from floods. You really wanted to use what you’d been given in a positive way. What’s changed?”
“Nothing!” Paige hissed. “The world hasn’t changed at all, it’s still the way it’s always been! I just thought it was beautiful, but really it’s ugly! Gruesome! Just like me.”
“You’re not ugly, Paige. You’re beautiful,” Bruce said.
“Stop condescending to me! I know your act! Thinking you can get a fuck out of me! Even if my face is fucked up, there’s nothing wrong with my gash, is there?”
“We’re not lying, Paige.” Diana reached down to her belt, uncuffed it. Drawing it out into her hands, its coils began to glow. “You know what this is?”
Paige stared at it, her coldly white mask lit up. “The lasso…”
“No one can lie when they’re touching it, Paige. Not even me. Would you like to know how I think you look?”
“I know how I look.” Paige grabbed the lasso, held onto it like her skin was melting onto its gold. “I’m deformed! A freak! A monster! The only way people would still pay money to see me is if I were in a sideshow!”
“That’s not true,” Bruce insisted. “That’s what you think, but it’s not the truth.”
“It’s not even what you think,” Diana added. “It’s what others have thought, others have said. They’ve said it so loud, about so many people, that you’ve believed them, but they are not worth listening to. We are. We’re your friends.”
“Friends!” Paige sneered.
Diana held up her end of the lasso. “I want to be your friend. Do you, Bruce?”
Bruce took up his end of it. “I do too. Well, Paige? Is that what you want?”
Paige let go of the lasso. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter!”
“Paige…” Diana said her name sweetly, carefully, like it had infinite value. “When was the last time you made love?”
***
Finally, it’s getting good, Roxy thought, her pelvis beginning to hunch against her rubbing hand. She moved her palm in a circle, making herself moan, but it wasn’t enough. Then she let her fingers in. That almost scratched her itch.
It still wasn’t enough, though.
***
Paige jerked away from Diana as if scalded. “Who cares? I don’t know—who would? Look at me!”
“I am,” Bruce said. He put his hand on Paige’s forearm. It tensed, but then relaxed. His grip was firm, but warm. Sure. She liked it. “I think you’re beautiful.” He held up his other hand. Wrapped in the lasso. “Really.”
Paige stared at it in confusion. How? How could he be lying? Then Diana touched her chin, gently, lovingly, turning her head back to focus on her. “You’re not a villain, Paige. You don’t have to be. There’s a loving, beautiful, sensual woman inside you. And you’ve kept her locked up for too long.”
“No! There’s nothing left of you, they, those men, they destroyed her!”
“You’re only destroyed if you let yourself be destroyed, Paige. I think…” Diana leaned in, her chiffon yawning open, her cleavage beckoning up to Paige’s eyes. “Given the chance, that woman… that lovely, lovely woman… will come out in a big way.”
“We want to meet her,” Bruce said, leaning in even closer, until his lips were brushing against her shoulder. Paige gasped. His lips were so warm…
“Let us see you,” Diana urged, her hand on the bed between Paige’s legs as she leaned over even farther, kissed Paige’s neck. Paige moaned aloud, the noise echoing weirdly inside her mask.
Bruce reached in, caressing her cheek, down to her soft throat, two fingers plying upward, slipping her mask up just enough for him to kiss her chin.
“I’m hideous!” she begged, begged them to just admit it.
“You’re beautiful,” Diana countered, pulling at the mask from above, just enough, now kissing Paige’s lower lip, sucking it into her teeth.
“So beautiful.” Bruce pushed the mask to the side, sucked at her ear, kissed her cheek.
Paige vibrated as her mask came off all the way. It seemed for a moment that she would explode, she shook so hard, but Bruce and Diana’s hands were on her, stroking her, caressing her, holding her strangely still.
“You have such perfect lips,” Diana said. “I want to kiss them forever.” She got started.
“Your eyes,” Bruce said, meeting them.
“Her nose,” Diana added.
“Cheekbones are nice.”
“I love her neck. Her slender little neck.” Diana drew her fingertips down it, into the buttons on Paige’s blouse. They clicked open, one by one. “What do you think of her breasts, Bruce?”
“I love them. I love everything about her.”
“Yes,” Diana agreed. “I could kiss them forever too.” She moved down, as Bruce moved up, kissing Paige with so much passion, so much hunger, that Paige could almost believe he was attracted to her.
Then, she did believe. “Show me how beautiful I am?” she implored them.
“We’ll show you,” Bruce said. He shrugged the robe off. His cock was hard, beautifully so, and Paige grabbed it impulsively. Felt it throb in her fist, harder than it looked, hotter than seemed possible. As long as she had it trapped, Paige fell forward, down onto her knees, to suck at his stiff tool.
Bruce threw his head back, but even as it was coming back, Diana was drawing herself into his lap, kissing him suddenly. “You’re beautiful too,” she told him. “And now I know what you taste like before you taste like Paige.”
Paige very much liked the way Diana said her name. Before, she had preferred Calendar Girl. Her head bobbed swiftly up and down, taking Bruce into her mouth and back out again, deeper than seemed possible. He was giving off little teasers of precum, delicious to the taste. Paige was so hungry for them, she almost hated how Diana came down beside her, wrapping the lasso around them both.
“What do you want, Paige?” she asked, and Paige was compelled to lift her mouth from Bruce, settle for jacking him with her hand.
“I want him to cum in his mouth. And I want him to fill my pussy just as full. And to shoot it all over me. And I want you to have your share too.” She smiled nervously, like she wasn’t sure if it would fit on her face. “I want everything.”
“Everything…” Diana said musingly, before kissing Paige’s lips and Bruce’s cockhead in quick succession. “I’ll see what I can do.”
***
Wanting even more, Roxy took off her skirt. She turned over on the couch, hoisting her ass in the air, supporting herself on one arm and splayed knees. Her hand shook as she brought it to her pussy from underneath, playing with her wet lips for a moment, then unable to resist just pushing her fingers inside, all of them together.
As the video kept playing and they ripped Calendar Girl’s clothes off, she flopped down onto her back and plunged four fingers into her cunt, all the way to the hilt.
***
Diana kissed Paige again, this time on her breasts, sucking the nipples so savagely that Paige had to love it—first the sharpness of her bite, then the sweet consoling laps of a gentle tongue to soothe away the hurt. Paige leaned over her to suck Bruce’s cock again, and as if in reward, Diana sucked harder, pulling the tips of Paige’s breasts into her mouth.
When she wasn’t suckling, biting, or kissing, she had her face between Paige’s hills, enjoying the sensation of being pressed into Paige, near to her heart and warmth. But then she was pushing forward, conversely pulling Paige away from Bruce. And she’d gotten his cock so hard…
“It’s time for you to feel beautiful,” Diana said, picking Paige up with ease, laying her down on the bed beside Bruce. “Inside and out.”
Bruce simply had to roll over, on top of her, and he’d plunged himself in her almost all the way to her cervix.
Paige didn’t know about beautiful, but Diana had certainly made her feel wet.
“Yes! So good, so good, so good!” Paige yelled, bucking up against Bruce, him inside her hard and strong and fast.
He gripped her thighs, working them up and down harder than she was moving. Paige soon felt her juices rippling in her cunt, spasms of pleasure from every thrust of Bruce made. She moaned, wailed, tried to clutch him with her thighs, but he wouldn’t let her. And soon, she found the way he held her legs, owning them, to be even more pleasurable.
Diana played with her hair as Bruce fucked Paige like an animal, his cock going places she hadn’t known were inside her. She hadn’t known any of this was inside her; she felt like a new person, someone who had come through crime and tragedy smelling like a rose. Or like a wet pussy. Christ, she could smell her own cunt… Bruce’s cock ramming in and out of it, his body piled upon hers.
Then a hand streaked across her face with the light touch of a thief, fingers dancing on her eyelids, the tip of her nose, the fullness of her lips. Diana had seemingly no greed for her own orgasm. She only wanted Paige to enjoy hers. Paige found herself looking at the princess with love and gratitude. She felt like Diana had created her, this woman who could take such pleasure, this beautiful woman…
Seizing on Paige’s sudden outpouring of affection, Diana leaned in, her lips coming to rest on Paige’s, and Paige kissed her as best she could when every thought in her was of the fuse burning down in her cunt, the tightness in her lower belly that was about to become an explosion.
Diana kissed her, all warmth and passion, and Bruce fucked her with strength and power, she had Diana’s tongue in her along with Bruce’s dick, both of them thrusting, stroking—it was too much. Her body lifted, legs forced out of Bruce’s grip to tie around him in a knot she wished would never come loose, as Bruce fucked his way into the core of her, filling her with sensations torn from her innermost places. Paige came with her whole body.
Diana’s kiss was on Paige’s lips throughout the climax; Paige doubted she could’ve endured it otherwise.
***
Roxy used her thumb, rubbing her clit as hard as she could as her fingers sloshed through the copious juices she was spilling. On the verge of orgasm, she lifted her legs, pushing her feet as hard as she could against the couch’s armrest as she fucked herself. Her hand swam in a sea between her legs.
Then she saw what happened next and her cunt was flooded with sticky warmth, an unbelievable ecstasy that started at her clit, took over her cunt, conquered her body. She came again and again. She never wanted it to stop.
And she knew that if she did as Batman wanted, it never had to.
***
While Paige was still shaking, Diana raised her eyes to Bruce. “Have you come yet?”
“Not yet,” Bruce replied laconically. “Give me a sec.”
“Give it to me,” Diana commanded, holding Paige securely as the woman thrashed and moaned. “Let me taste it. Let us taste it.”
A tap on Paige’s knotted thighs and they went limp, allowing Bruce to free himself. He shot up, straddling Paige’s body, nearly slipping off her sweat. Though Paige’s eyes were out of focus, she still caught sight of his cock a few inches from her face. It would’ve been hard to miss from across the room.
She stuck her tongue out, desiring, hungry, and Diana watched proudly as Paige caught him in her lips, mouth fitted over his head, then throat fitted over his shaft. She didn’t choke, didn’t gag, just sucked like a whirlpool, like a wet dream, like his pleasure was something she could pull out of him and she did. Now it was his callused hands stroking through the hair on her bobbing head.
“That’s how good you taste, Paige,” Diana whispered in her ear.
But finally, Paige had to breathe. She couldn’t, even through her nose, while Bruce was so deep in her throat. She pulled off him, just to gasp, tried to go back but Diana was there first. As soon as he was in her mouth, her lips plummeted down to his root, her throat gulping and gorging at him.
“Let me,” Paige begged. “Let me, let me, let me, I wasn’t finished!”
One of Bruce’s hands nestled in her hair while the other rested on Diana’s head, putting a subtle pressure on her until she reared off his cock, looking up at him imperially.
“Both of you,” Bruce said simply, and Diana licked one side of his cock and Paige tongued the other.
They ran their mouths up and down his cock, sometimes tapering off his engorged peak, meeting each other’s lips, craving each other as much as Bruce. Diana’s tongue dove into Paige’s mouth and she sucked it as she’d sucked Bruce, until the craving grew in one of them for cock once more and a woman broke away, to gag herself on Bruce’s manhood, the other woman doing the same, for his balls, his base. Five or six times they went from kissing to sucking to kissing to sucking, until Bruce wouldn’t let them up, holding their heads down on his cock as his hips jerk, thrusting his cock into their lips, his teeth gritted, his chest red.
“It’s time,” he said in a guttural voice, then pulled back to give them time to pull away. Neither did. They presented their faces as he came, embracing the storm of his cum, the hot thick flow that erupted onto them and ran down their faces like lava, drenching them, soaking into them. Soon, the Calendar Girl had a new mask.
Then, Paige felt the glide of Diana’s tongue over her skin, drinking Bruce’s cum from her face. It was a long, loving process, Paige scintillated and shuddering for the whole of it, right up until Diana’s mouth locked itself to Paige’s and she returned Bruce’s cum to the mouth that had once claimed it. It was tasty and hot and Paige’s whole body felt warm, feeling it oozing down her throat. She sucked down all she could, as well as Diana’s tongue, until Diana took charge of the kiss, making their lips become soft and relaxed together.
Then, tongues cleaned in each other’s mouths, Paige rose, led by Diana, to follow suit with Diana in kissing Bruce. One after the other. With all three of them slowing down from the orgasmic rush of the orgy’s final moments, Bruce fell to the bed with Diana and Paige to lie in a pile of bodies, touching but barely feeling.
***
It was just because of the straitjacket, Harley knew. If it weren’t for the straitjacket, she could touch herself and close her eyes and think of Mistah J. But she couldn’t. She could only watch them. Only watch them and squeeze her thighs together. Only watch them and think that maybe Bruce was that good.
***
Already, Paige was starting to long again, a longing to make up for lost time, to be part of the world, of their world. Her nipples were tense once again.
“That was beautiful,” Paige said.
“Yes, it was,” Diana replied. She held up the lasso, held it up to Paige. “But what made it that way?”
Paige grabbed the lasso. The truth came easily. “I did. I’m beautiful. I think. Aren’t I?”
“If you can’t trust Diana…” Bruce began.
Paige glanced at him and saw a surprise between his legs. “You’re still hard!”
“He does that,” Diana assured her. “It’s a tantric thing.”
“Like Sting?”
“Very much like Sting.”
“Would you like to go again?” Bruce asked her.
Paige’s cunt demanded it. The rest of her was sore and weary. “I couldn’t. Not so soon… but… maybe…”
“Yes?” Diana asked, eager to help her.
“The two of you could,” Paige suggested. “While I watch. It would be…”
“Beautiful?” Diana suggested.
“Perfect.”
Bruce looked at Diana.
Diana looked at Bruce.
“I could stand some more,” she said.
“I could give it,” Bruce said. “Princess.”
An eyebrow raised. “Rich boy. Admit it. You’ve always wanted to know if you could handle me.”
“No. I’ve always known I could handle you.” In a sweep of motion, Bruce bore her down to the bed. “I’ve just wanted to prove it.”
***
Prudence Wood—somewhat better known as Pru, not that she was the type to be known to more than a few people—ran a hand over her freshly shorn scalp, the skin smooth as a baby’s bottom. Meeting with Tim again, she wanted to look her best. Not just because he was fucking sexy, but because that annoying stalker of his, the Brown girl, had gotten the drop on her once and broken her fucking nose.
Obviously, Tim would frown on Pru teaching her some manners, as Pru so desperately wanted to and was more than capable of doing. But, there was nothing stopping her from stealing eggplant-girl’s man. Sex and revenge: two great tastes that tasted great together.
Three great tastes. There was also the matter of business, and if anyone knew how to get shit done, it was Pru. Even if it had to be with rubber bullets. The League of Assassins was on the move, and they most definitely didn’t use rubber anything. The Bats had to know. Tim was the only one of them she could stand. And he still hasn’t found the bug she’d planted on him.
Odd enough that his signal wasn’t coming from any operational base of his that she knew of, but judging by how long he’d been immobile, it had to be some sort of fucking lair. Maybe it was his bachelor pad. The Bats had to have some place to take their pussy. Look at Nightwing. No way he took that alien supermodel of his to a Motel 6.
Ignoring the sound of a subway train passing by, Pru judged that she was close enough to the cave or whatever it was. She pulled a pair of thermal goggles from her pack and switched them on to scope out the place. Not a convention center or anything—just two heat signatures she could see. At least two; they were all blurred together.

Christ, had someone beaten her to Jason Todding the Virgin Wonder? Pru pulled off her goggles. She’d just have to look and see.
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Marry The Knight