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Bat Hunting	By : BadGrayson Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 7777 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman nor any other of the characters in this story. This is a work of FanFiction and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Chapter Fifteen:

The Last Days of Robin the Boy Wonder – Part Two
“… You’re looking very pretty, my dear.”
It was a genuine compliment from the last person on Earth that Dick would ever expect (or want) one from. After being captured by the Joker, he knew he was lucky to still be alive... but that seemed to be as far as his luck had stretched. He’d been drugged, sexually abused, and then made into a plaything for the evil clown.
Now he found himself awakening from his barbiturate-induced stupor in unfamiliar surroundings yet again.
From what Dick could gather, he seemed to be in some dusty dressing room of an old abandoned theatre. Yellowed and tattered posters of Gotham stage productions from years gone by were pinned to the crumbling walls around him. He also sensed a flurry of activity in the halls outside and around him.
It seemed as though the Joker had decided to put on his own performance in this dilapidated theatre and that Robin was going to play a role. Both the clown and his young captive were being attended to by a pair of makeup artists in front of a large, cracked dressing room mirror. He was having stage makeup applied…
With a great deal of effort, Dick slowly tilted his head to look over at the ever-smiling Joker seated next to him, the pair of them being meticulously primped while seated in folding lawn chairs. Robin was barely coherent, having been dosed with what he believed was some sort of potent tranquilizer - but he fully comprehended that his lifespan could be measured in days (if not hours) if he didn’t escape from the Joker soon…
He'd become nothing more than a boy-toy. Dick had entered a sexual Hell since the moment he had first fallen into the Joker’s foul clutches, but for Robin it had all been a blur. The diabolical clown had kept him sedated so that the Boy Wonder was no longer sure how many days had passed. It could have been a day, it could have been a week.
And there was still no sign of Bruce...
All Robin knew was that he’d been mercilessly ass-fucked at least a half-a-dozen times by the continually-smiling madman. The first time he had taken some small degree of pleasure the abuse, but now he just wanted it to stop. He wanted out of this Hell where a white-skinned devil had violated him in every way imaginable.
His sadistic captor noticed Dick’s attempts to return to reality.
“Finally coming around are you?... Don’t worry Boy Thespian, the drugs should wear off by the time you go onstage... Have you memorized your lines yet?”
“… Mmlignes?”
“Oh, you silly boy… Remember, the pages of dialogue I gave you? You were supposed to be reading it while I was fucking you from behind on the casting couch… I stuck it right under your face for crying out loud!”
“… Rhuggsz.”
“Drugs?! Young actors and their chemical vices these days… I must say I’m disappointed, Robin. I was led to believe you were a professional... What’s an Executive Producer to do?!... Well, as they say on Broadway, desperate times call for desperate pleasures… You’ve left me no other choice but to bring in a little extra motivation so that you’ll start giving this part the attention it deserves and let me have a little fun… MORTIMER!”
As the Joker yelled out the name of a henchman, Dick watched the mirror’s reflection suddenly reveal an incredibly large man dragging a young, dark-haired boy through the doorway behind him. The Boy Wonder noticed that the bound-and-gagged teenager bore more than a casual resemblance to himself. Even their body types were similar. In a mask, this teenager could certainly pass for Robin.
This was obviously the 'motivation' that the Joker had mentioned.
“Robin, my boy… I’d like you to meet your understudy… Daniel Redcliffe… He’s a sweet kid and fine actor, but tends to yell for help quite a lot... Had to muzzle the rotten brat actually… But don’t you worry, Boy Dunder! That little hack can never replace you… I mean, how can he replace you?! You’re the star billing! The big draw! The show stopper!... All that Daniel here can do is give you that little extra incentive… That motivation to elevate your game, so to speak… So if you’re not giving it your all, then we’ll just have to shoot the damned kid!… Call it… life-or-death inspiration!”
“Basstrd… W’air mhlinnes?”
The Joker retrieved a red scribbler from beside him and tossed it on the makeup table in front of Dick.
“Lucky for you that I just happen to have an extra copy. Don’t worry, you don’t have much of a speaking role so you’ll be able to get by on your good looks... Heck, you don’t even have any dialogue in Scene Two…”
Robin watched as a flamboyant white-haired man dressed entirely in pink quickly entered the dusty dressing room, moving directly towards the Joker and paying a great deal of attention to the clown’s unruly green mop. The Joker was delighted by the stranger's sudden appearance.
“Ah, Eduardo, my personal hair stylist, thank God you’re here!... Ladies, take a break… Hair now becomes the top priority!”
As the man called Eduardo cut, styled and tussled, Dick continued to regain his drug-addled senses. He figured this had to be the old Gotham Playhouse, a condemned vaudeville theatre that had changed hands a dozen times before becoming abandoned for the past ten years and then condemned.
When the frantic stylist had finally finished with the Joker, he then moved over to Robin. When he had finished with his dark locks, Dick could only describe his new hair style as a professional ‘pixie’ cut… and rather feminine.
However, the newly coiffured Joker approved of this new look.
“Well done, Eduardo!… Now, off to Fitting with you, sweet Robin!”
The incredibly large Mortimer latched onto Robin’s shoulder with one beefy hand and easily carried the teenager unceremoniously across the hall and into to a cloudy dressing room where he saw an elderly lady impatiently chain-smoking a cigarette, obviously waiting for him.
Mortimer tossed the Boy Wonder like a sack of potatoes in front of her feet while the older woman sighed and then scolded the hulking goon.
“For Christ’s sake, be careful with him, Mort... You know the Boss will be pissed if you mess up his hair… Alright kid, let’s try on your outfit for Scene One and find out what I need to do…”
Dick suddenly eyed a gaudy, sequined version of his Robin outfit on the chair beside her. With all of its sparkles, it seemed something more appropriate for a Vegas showgirl than the Boy Wonder. He may have been a hostage, but he was not going to be made a fool of. Dick would play a part for Daniel’s sake, but he was not going to be dressed in something so awfully garish…
“I’m not wearing that.”
The enormous man named Mortimer picked him up again, but this time by the throat instead of the shoulder and then growled into his face.
“Kid, I’ll be honest… I’m not s’posed to kill ya, but the Boss said I can knock out a few teeth if ya gives me trouble. Keep up with the lip and I’ll consider that trouble... Got it?”
Robin eagerly nodded his acquiescence. He fully understood that the angry Mortimer could have easily crushed his windpipe let alone knock out a few teeth. And he was still too woozy from the drugs to put up much of a struggle against such a daunting opponent.
Dick put on the outfit.
The bright Robin costume was a travesty of his own uniform; the colours the only true similarity. The too-short-shirt exposed his tight midriff, tailored to be more like a bikini-top than a tunic. Even more humiliating was that it had been lightly padded to give him the illusion of small breasts. His familiar tights had been replaced by white fishnets and the green sequined shorts were closer to a G-string, barely covering his ass.
Dick examined himself in the cracked full-length mirror hanging on the wall. He looked like some underage drag queen or a boy hooker who was desperate for sex. The seamstress then picked up an old-fashioned miner’s hat (complete with a spotlight on its brim) and then slapped it on his head.
“Well, at least that fits.”
She then retrieved the miner’s hat off his head and began to clutch folds of the Robin outfit while Dick shifted uncomfortably. This whole time his mask had never been removed, nor had anyone attempted to establish his true identity. It seemed that the Joker only cared that he was Robin, not Richard Grayson.
As the elder seamstress continued to smoke the cigarette dangling from her mouth and pin the sequined outfit, stitching and sewing adjustments where required, Dick decided to read the red scribbler which the Joker had tossed at him to see what possible plans the madman may have for his teenage hostage.
This stage production was apparently titled “Mrs. Robin’s Son”, most likely a pun off the sexy character from a popular award-winning movie released ten years ago. The opening scene was with Robin and his mother (who was appropriately named ‘Mrs. Robin’) having a conversation about the young man’s unhappiness over being Batman’s long-time partner.
In the script, Robin wanted out. He was distraught about being Batman’s junior partner; both professionally and romantically. Evidently, Batman had a very small penis which was a major ‘bone’ of contention for young Robin’s future happiness. A consoling Mrs. Robin assured her son that it was only natural for a young man to desire an older man with a big penis, and that three inches could never satisfy anyone, let alone her pretty boy.
They both agreed that Batman would have to go.
A foul-smelling and drunken Batman soon makes an appearance, attempting to woo his young partner back with the offer of a bottle of cheap wine and a hotel room rented for an hour (although Batman confesses that he’ll only need two minutes). After some choice words and a struggle, Sheriff Joker bursts through the front door and then confronts the evil Batman...
Dick had been too busy scanning the play to realize that the smoke-stained seamstress had finished making her adjustments to this revealing Robin costume. The wardrobe assistant stood back and admired her handiwork.
“Alright sweetie, all done. Now… Let’s take that off really carefully so we can try on your second outfit.”
Richard hadn’t made it to the part in the script where he had required a costume change yet, so he had no idea of what to expect...
When Dick did see it, he was absolutely horrified.
The elder tailor gestured to a rolling clothes rack where a silky red blouse hung with a white-and-black chequered mini-skirt. A pair of black nylons, shiny black high heels, padded bra and yellow scarf completed the feminine ensemble. Dick stared in disbelief at the clothes hanging before him, mortified at this girlish interpretation of his Robin outfit.
“I… can’t wear that.”
Richard’s attention was suddenly drawn to the gorilla named Mortimer who was happily cracking his knuckles and grinning with deep satisfaction while stepping forward. Apparently, Mort enjoyed the more violent aspects of his work…
“Alright, alright… I’ll put it on!”
Dick soon discovered that the thick, black nylons were crotchless and that the skirt was really short. The red blouse had loose-fitting, puffy arms which tended to conceal his noticeable biceps and the bra was padded enough to now give him conspicuous breasts.
Amazingly enough though, it all fit well.
Looking in the mirror, Dick realized that he could pass for a young lady dressed in this outfit. In fact, with the mod haircut and makeup, he actually looked pretty damned convincing. Considering the previous outfit, this one was almost respectable. The white-and-black chequered skirt was short, but nothing worse than the current fashions that young girls were wearing these days.
And then he caught himself wondering if Bruce would prefer him dressed like this…
“Ever worn heels, hon?”
Dick looked down at the black three-inch heels on his feet.
“Ah… No.”
“Then you’d better try walking in them, love... Not as easy as it looks.”
After a lifetime of training as an elite-level gymnast, Dick had developed excellent balance. And he needed it now! The first steps were a little dicey, but he soon managed to get the natural rhythm of smaller steps and moving confidently from heel-to-toe. He was forced to sway his hips a little to keep his balance while walking.
As Dick practiced his strut, an older man suddenly stepped into the dressing room from behind the distracted Mortimer (who’d been staring intently at his seductively swaying ass). Richard could easily smell the stench of cheap booze from ten feet away as the drunkard bellowed out a greeting to the elder female seamstress beside him.
“Liza, my love! I’m back at the Theatre and ready for my Fitting!... Oh, please excuse a humble old man, dear lovely lady. Where are my manners?…”
It took Dick a moment to realize that the intoxicated man was apologizing to him. He was the ‘lovely lady’ that the stranger had addressed... and not sarcastically. He actually believed Dick was a girl. Before he could even reply, Mortimer quickly turned and blocked the rambling older man, pushing him back outside the doorway.
“Not your turn yet, old-timer. You don’t go in ‘til I tell you to go in. Got it?”
As the large henchman addressed the unwanted interruption outside, the elder seamstress lit up a new cigarette and then quietly winked at Dick, giving the lad a sly chuckle while casting her eyes down at the fleshy appendage which was now openly dangling between his legs, easily clearing the short hem of the mini-skirt.
“Better tuck that in onstage, sweetheart... Christ, you’re hung like a fucking horse.”

A couple of hours later, Dick was dressed in his sequined Robin outfit and waiting onstage behind the curtain while two dangerous-looking men constantly eyed him from the sidelines, looming over the frightened young lad whom the Joker had identified as Daniel Redcliffe.
Dick could easily make out the shoulder-holsters under their suit jackets and had no doubt that both his and young Daniel’s life were now in serious jeopardy should something go wrong. And he doubted that these were the only armed goons around… The Joker was planning something big, which meant he'd have additional security.
Again, Dick wondered where the fuck Bruce was and why it was taking him so damned long to rescue him. Had the Joker disabled the homing device in his costume? In hindsight, putting his life in jeopardy just to garner Bruce’s attention had been an incredibly stupid idea. One he’d certainly never indulge in again if he survived…
On the other side of the ratty old curtain, Dick heard the Joker introducing the play to an unseen audience.
“Gentlemen! Welcome to the future! The future of cinema and entertainment! You are about to witness the crowning achievement of public artistry right here, tonight! You are about to become a part of theatrical history!... So make yourself comfortable and please put your hands together for the heart-warming tale of ‘Mrs. Robin’s Son’!”
Before the curtains rose, Dick heard the cheers and applause and realized for the first time that he would be performing in front of a live audience! There were people on the other side of the curtain who would see him dressed like this! He felt his cheeks glow in embarrassment and wondered just who these people were.
As the ratty curtains rose, he could make out dozens of shady looking men seated in the theatre before him – even recognizing some of Gotham’s most notorious criminals. Half of Gotham's underworld seemed to be seated before him. And there were only men, he didn’t see one single woman…
As the lights shone upon him, Robin realized that his prospects for escape were now dashed. Even Batman wouldn’t be able to face this many men… There had to be close to a hundred of the most dangerous criminals in the entire city now ogling him in his tight sequined outfit and fishnets, each of them angling for a better view of the shorts which barely covered his ass…
And yet the most dangerous criminal of them all was watching in the darkness offstage behind a gagged and terrified Daniel, tapping his long white index finger on top of the boy’s head while remaining in the shadows, waiting for Dick to begin his lines…
Suddenly realizing that Daniel’s life was at stake, Robin broke into his dialogue, addressing an older actor seated center-stage in a rocking chair. To his amazement, a plump ‘Mrs. Robin’ was simply an eldery man who wore a extra-large Robin costume, complete with a grey wig and shawl. Dick didn’t recognize this man from any mug shot, but from his talent, it seemed as though the Joker had actually brought in some genuine actors for the other roles.
As Robin delivered his lines to his ‘mother’, their joke about Batman’s small penis went over well with the male audience - except to Dick’s horror, there were actually extra laughs. The Joker had arranged for canned laughter to be played during the funny parts, as though he were now in some deranged sitcom being recorded in front of a live television audience.
It was a chilling effect, but at least he didn’t spot any cameras.
After the opening dialogue, the actor portraying Batman finally stumbled onto the stage, reeking of booze. Even behind the mask, Dick immediately recognized the old drunkard from before in the fitting room, the one who had mistaken him for a young lady.
With Batman’s entrance, there was a chorus of rowdy and sustained ‘boos’ from the audience while more than a few tomatoes were violently thrown at the stage. As the older man made his way through the tomato storm and latched onto Dick, groping his exposed ass which had spilled out from beyond a slim green wedge riding his crack, Robin didn’t have to feign his repulsion.
After his indecent proposal, Mrs. Robin vainly attempted to protect her innocent young boy from the lecherous advances of this staggering Batman. Robin was surprised when the drunk actually landed a wide right hook across his stage mother’s jaw, sending the wig flying and the unsuspecting actor tumbling down to the stage.
That wasn’t in the script.
Dick tensed as he saw malice set into the drunk’s bloodshot eyes, now staggering heavily towards him while breathing heavily, reaching out with grasping hands for Robin…
“C’mon kid… You know you want it… Nobody likes a Mama’s boy...”
Trumpets suddenly blared over the loudspeakers.
“Not so fast, Batman! There’s a new Sheriff in town!”
Before Dick could even move, the Joker’s heroic voice had projected loudly across the stage while the tall clown entered stage right in an outfit almost beyond description. Dick stared in disbelief at the bizarre combination of a clown and a gunfighter who was wearing a shiny badge.
A large, white ten-gallon cowboy hat sat over the large fake moustache which was glued onto the Joker’s upper lip. A green bandana wrapped around his neck accessorizing a purple vest which proudly displayed the large tin badge, the kind of star that Western lawmen used to wear.
Around the clown’s slim waist was slung a gunfighter’s belt, complete with a silver-plated colt single-action revolver hung low in its holster on his right side. But it was what appeared below the gun belt which drew a number of giggles from the crowd…
The Joker hadn't bothered to wear pants beneath his tasselled leather chaps, proudly displaying only a pair of white boxer shorts decorated with yellow smiley faces. As he had previously explained to Robin, the secret to comedy was in the silly underwear and he had obviously meant it.
As the Joker advanced with wide bow-legged steps, the inebriated actor playing Batman slowly backed up, raising his hands defensively.
“C’mon Sheriff, we’re on the same side here… Eating donuts... Taking bribes... Just ask Old Gordon. He and I go way back.”
“Old Sheriff Gordon may have turned a blind eye to your nightly antics, Bat-Maniac… But its time we returned Gotham back to the good, honest criminals! I’m a-charging you with being drunk-and-disorderly, assaulting poor Mrs. Robin over there, dressing like a fashion retard and finally, worst of all…”
The Joker suddenly slapped the miner’s hat on top of Dick’s head and then flicked on its little spotlight.
“… Having sex with a miner!”
Canned laughter spilled across the stage before the corny clown continued in his best cowboy drawl.
“I gotta be honest, Batman… I don’t think yer even gonna make it to trial… There’s an angry mob waiting just outside that's fixin' to lynch ya fer sure… But I’m a-gonna give ya the chance to settle this fair and square... Man-to-man... See, this here town ain’t big enough for the both of us… We’ve always known that, amigo… So we’re gonna have ourselves an old-fashioned showdown… And the winner takes Robin... So... Ya ready to draw, pard’ner?”
The older man portraying Batman looked at the Joker with wide and terrified eyes, stammering his reply. Apparently this part hadn’t been in the script either.
“But… I don’t have a gun!”
“You mean you carry around that stupid utility belt, equipped with every God-forsaken device known to man… And you’re not carrying a gun?!”
“That’s right, Mister Joker… I ain’t got a gun!”
“Well gosh, that’s a darn shame... Maybe just use yer fingers then.”
Dick watched in slow-motion horror as the ashen-faced lunatic drew the antique six-shooter, aimed it carefully at the bat symbol on the old actor’s chest and then casually squeezed the trigger as its barrel exploded in a cloud of gunpowder-grey smoke with an ear-splitting crack.
The slug’s leaden impact lifted the fake Batman completely off his feet and tossed him backwards through midair, instantly extinguishing his life before his warm corpse came crashing back down to the stage’s rotting floorboards.
The next instant, Dick watched in gut-wrenching revulsion as the clown holstered his smoking gun, pantomiming surprise as he turned to face the enthralled audience while lifting a hand over his smiling mouth…
“Whoops! Forgot to load the blanks!”
A cruel, meaningless joke played to canned laughter.
As the lifeless body of an aged actor whose only crime had been that he had fallen on hard times and taken comfort in the bottle now lay in a pool of his own blood, the canned laughter at the Joker’s last line felt far too surreal to Richard - as though this poor man’s life had been nothing more than the set-up for one last bad joke. He fely the anger slowly rise inside of him, suddenly wanting to smash the Joker’s crooked teeth down his chuckling throat with trembling fists…
But that would only doom both himself and Daniel. He had to bottle his anger and concentrate on escaping. The curtain slowly fell on Scene One as the mad clown starting barking out orders to stage hands.
“Get that stiff off my stage already!... Alright Boy Wonder, go and get dressed for Scene Two and remember... smile and look pretty for these nice folks.”
It was all Robin could do to prevent himself from striking the Joker in righteous rage as the murderous clown walked by him and affectionately slapped him on the ass.
Once that rage had subsided, Robin almost collapsed in desperation as he pondered the script for Scene Two... This was the final scene where he would be dressed like a girl. The Joker had already revealed to him that there was no atrocity he would not dare in front of an audience. There was no boundary he wouldn't cross in his pursuit of fun.
He had just killed a man onstage for a cheap laugh for fuck’s sake.
Backstage, Dick’s stomach lurched as he slowly pulled on the black crotchless pantyhose over his smooth legs, zipped up the tight miniskirt, and finished with the heels, bra, blouse and scarf… As fresh makeup was applied, he nervously remembered that he had no dialogue in this final scene...
Instead, only seven words of instructions had been hand-written in the Joker’s own mad scrawl on his script…
Just do as you're told, sweetie-buns!
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