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When Spidey Met Batgirl	By : littleblackduck Category: DC Verse Comics > Batgirl Views: 29348 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-Man or Batgirl or anything Marvel and/or DC related. I make no profit from this work.

Chapter List
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CHAPTER FOUR: The Evil That Men Do
Looking down at the bound form of Batgirl, Killer Moth couldn't help but smile. "I knew I'd get the better of you eventually," he murmured dreamily. "You thought you'd made a fool of me? Well who's the fool now?"
For her part, Batgirl could only struggle against her fetters and wonder how this possibly happened to her. How the hell had Killer Moth of all people gotten the drop on her? She'd made her mark as a novice crime-fighter beating this chump! And more importantly, when did he learn to tie a decent knot? Her dad had once told her that one of the Moth's earliest kidnapping schemes -- in which he'd abducted the nine-year-old son of a tobacco magnate -- had been thwarted before the cops had even been informed of the ransom demands because he'd tied the boy up with a bow.
The kid escaped while Moth was out getting a Happy Meal.
And now, one of Gotham's premiere vigilantes was writhing against four perfectly tied double constrictor knots that had her bound spread eagle to a cold metal table.
"Not so tough now, are you little bat?" her captor cooed gleefully. "Surprised that the Killer Moth was too much for you?"
"I'm gonna be honest with you, Mothboy," Batgirl said with a smirk. "You got lucky. I had a run in with the Riddler's men last night that left me pretty banged up."
"You think you're hurting now?" the Moth asked, producing a switchblade. "Wait'll you get a load of me, bitch."
For the first time since she'd run into the Moth that night, a cold shiver of fear ran down Batgirl's spine. "What are you doing?" she asked as he stepped toward her.
"Whatever the fuck I wanna do, Bat-whore," he said with a grin as the blade switched open with a stark and startling click.
Batgirl screwed her eyes shut, realizing he was going to kill her. He was going to cut her and torture her to death and dump her body off the pier. This was how her father was going to learn the truth about his little girl. Killer Moth was going to kill her! She was going to die!
The unending dread raced through her as she waited for the blade to sink into her flesh. She was almost relieved when instead of cold steel she felt a clammy hand press her chest.
That relief soon gave way to surprise and revulsion when she opened her eyes to see Killer Moth standing over her, pawing at her breasts. "Oh you slutty little tease," he whispered. "So pretty and helpless."
Batgirl was too shocked to speak. She could only grunt in pain as the Moth forcefully groped her tit, still tender from the night before. "Batty baby likes it rough, huh?" he asked, mistaking her verbal discomfort for passion. "Well if rough is what baby wants, rough is what she gets."
The knife flashed back into Batgirl's sight as Killer Moth pulled the thick lycra material of her costume away from her body and started to cut.
"No!" she screamed, finally vocalizing her shock as he methodically sliced through her suit, exposing her breasts.
"Oh my, no bra," Killer Moth observed, ignoring her protest. "Such a dirty, naughty girl."
Some small part of Batgirl's mind -- the same part determined to deny that this could actually be happening -- wanted to explain to him that the outfit he was so callously shredding had been carefully designed by craftsmen overseas on Bruce Wayne's dime to support her ample frame on its own for maximum comfort and flexibility. But that same small part of her mind shut down when she realized he was now carefully cutting the crotch from her costume.
"I'm gonna let you keep that cute little utility belt," the Moth told her. "It's just so dead sexy. And let's keep our masks on, too. Roleplay always spices things up, don't you think? First I'm gonna fuck Batgirl, and then later I'm going to fuck whatever slutty little nobody's hiding under that cowl."
"Stop," she begged him, tears threatening to well in her eyes. "Just stop!"
"We can't stop now," he said, slicing her panties away. "The fun hasn't even started yet."
The sad truth of it -- a truth she now realized she'd never tell anyone as long as she lived -- was that in the beginning, Batgirl had a bit of a crush on Killer Moth. It was the deep timbre of his voice that had done it for her. It used to make her feel like the timid school girl to his stern high school principal. That crush had steadily subsided after she'd actually fought him -- after she'd seen him crumble into the pathetic wretch she now knew festered beneath all that bluster. And now, watching in horror as he frantically worked off his belt buckle and lowered his ridiculous lavender pants to expose the ugly stub of his stiffening penis, the last faint traces of that attraction were obliterated.
"I swear to God, I'm going to kill you for this," she grimaced as he climbed up on the table, stroking his cock.
"If I thought you'd get the chance to make good on that little threat, I might just say it'd be worth it," he glibly replied, positioning himself between her legs. Batgirl could feel his prick throb against her thighs, and somehow found the strength to fight even harder with her restraints than she already had been. The rope holding her right arm was starting to give a little, but she doubted she could free herself in time.
Killer Moth ran his hands along her waist and up her sides to knead her breasts again. He moaned throatily as he violently pinched her nipples, sending waves of pain and nausea through her. "All the humiliations and beatings you've given me over this last year," he laughed, "and look at you now."
Batgirl felt his dripping cockhead at the edge of her sex and could only whimper as he began to push forward. She just couldn't watch this happen, closing her eyes once more.
No sooner had she lowered her lids than she heard someone shout, "Is this a private party, or can any wacky bug boy drop in?" Killer Moth suddenly withdrew from her. Shortly afterward, there was a less than soft crash on the other side of the room.
When Batgirl opened her eyes, a garish red and blue figure stood over her. It only took a moment for her to register the big white bug-eyes and the web-pattern of his mask and realize who she was dealing with.
Killer Moth had a new partner.
"Don't worry," he said, reaching out toward her prone form. "I'll make this as painless as possible." She spied the obscene bulge in his tight blue trousers just as she finally slipped her right wrist free of Killer Moth's killer knot.
*
If Spider-Man had realized what the jerk in the ugly purple bug suit was up to, there was no way he would have made a joke.
He'd stopped a handful of rapes in his career and every time it happened, he was taken aback. Peter'd been raised to believe that people were basically good, and while his years as Spider-Man had thoroughly tested that belief, there were some crimes he just couldn't accept. He understood that certain people had no problem with theft, and he'd met too many killers not to see that there were people to whom the value of human life meant less than nothing. But rape? There were still some things he just couldn't wrap his head around.
It wasn't until Killer Moth sailed past him -- tugged right off his feet by a web-line -- that Spider-Man saw the creep wasn't wearing pants. And when the young crime-fighter turned from the now unconscious Moth toward his intended victim, Spider-Man finally noticed the obvious.
Oh god! That girl's naked!
Spider-Man made his way toward her, unsure of just how to handle this, and completely ashamed to feel a familiar stirring in his loins. Peter was a teenage boy. He was no stranger to the occasional unruly erection, but with the vast number of older gentlemen in his particular rogues gallery, they almost never happened to him in costume -- the notable exceptions being the handful of times he'd teamed-up with that curvy Invisible Girl from the Fantastic Four. He felt a fresh wave of guilt and self-loathing when he found that this poor young woman's awful predicament was actually arousing him.
"Don't worry," he said, reaching to both untie and reassure her. "I'll make this as painless as possible."
He was overwhelmed. Between her nudity, his shame, and the sudden realization she was wearing a batmask over her head, he failed to notice the blare of his spider-sense until it was too late.
"Don't you fucking touch me!" the girl shouted, grabbing his arm and tossing him across the room with a swift and savage grace she made seem effortless.
"Damn!" Spidey shouted as he crashed into a stack of crates. He wasn't sure, but it looked like The Batman was a smoking hot chick.
By the time he pulled himself up out of the wreckage, the Bat-Girl had already untied the rest of her restraints and was getting up off the table. "That was fast," he mumbled, still too shaken to think straight.
The girl fixed a look of pure hate upon him, disgusted to see him standing so soon. Spider-Man was mesmerized by the sway of her breasts. He wondered whether she realized they were still hanging out of her torn costume or if she was just too pissed to care. He felt hazy and hypnotized as he watched her reach down into a pouch on the belt that hung around the luscious curve of her hips. That only drew his attention to the tightly trimmed triangle of hair above the lips of her exposed slit, distracting him long enough that the next thing he knew, a brace of batarangs were flying at his face.
"Whoa! Calm down, lady!" he yelled, dodging with a little more effort than he would have expected. He had to get his hormones in check if he wanted to get through this. He was still off-balance when she leapt forward and tackled him.
"You monsters!" she shrieked. "You fucking monsters!" She was all over him. Pinning him down and beating him about the head with her fists as she continued to curse him. Spider-Man didn't know what to do. He didn't want to hurt her. He just threw his hands up, taking the brunt of her assault passively.
"You shouldn't have done that," she sobbed. "You shouldn't have fucking done that!"
"I was helping!" he tried to explain. "I thought I was helping! I'm sorry!"
But she wasn't listening. She just kept thrashing against him and he couldn't help it. She was grinding against his hard prick -- nestled snuggly at the crux of her legs -- and her breasts bounced to the beat of her blows. The frightful sight of it all was eliciting a somewhat mortifying response.
"Stop!" he begged her, tingling in a much more primal way than his spider-sense. "I don't think I can handle much more of this..."
She started to falter, but not out of any concern for him. Only out of exhaustion. "You bastards," she panted. "You goddamn bastard."
"Please stop," Spider-Man kept pleading, and eventually she did, losing steam, her rage spent. She collapsed onto him then, but it was too late. The crush of her breasts against his chest and her breath coming in hot and heavy blasts against the crook of his neck were too much. There was no stopping him now, anymore than there'd been any stopping her attack. He erupted right then. A warm, sticky mess in his tights.
"I'm sorry," he blurted out in an explosive mix of embarrassment and euphoria as his cock pulsed again and again, spurting cum out beneath her.
She didn't seem to notice. "Shouldn't have happened," she whimpered into his ear, sobbing.
"I'm so sorry," he said, spent.
NEXT: Night Creatures
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When Spidey Met Batgirl