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Scolding of the Bat	By : Corina Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 21842 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Five – Lights On
With the restraints across her body, spreading her tight and wide, Batman hit her with the top of his finger, right in the middle of her chest. Right against the nerve cluster which would free her body from the paralysis. Free from that, she could not move a soul. Just so spread out, spread out with her legs spread as tight as they could, her arms drawn tightly above her as well. Batman looked to her in the darkness, surveying her, noticing every inch of her as if memorizing something he had sought after for so long. Suddenly, it was not enough to see her in the darkness, to only see the shape of her body against the shadows. Batman wanted terror, she would not know that as long as she was in the darkness, she would not cower in the fear of what was about to happen to her.
Grabbing a batarang, Batman tossed it to the light switch, and he watched to swirl across the room to hit the light switch. Instantly, the lights came on as he tore his cowl off. The _expression on his face was not that of Bruce, not that of a man, but a beast with the hunt on his mind. Swirling through his mind as he saw her...NEED...ACHE...DESIRE...WANT....and then the last feeling hit him hard....MINE! MINE! The need to have her, to break through her tight virginal womanhood to be the wild man to take her and not that weak minded fool of a partner he had.
Instead of taking her there, he only reached down to tear it all off of hear, to madly rip it from her, rip away all of what was left on her. Using the batarang as a bladed weapon, he tore it from her body, sometimes making small scratches across her chest and belly, just enough to cause pain and fear for what he would do if she did indeed resist.
Batgirl felt something, the tip of his finger press against her chest. Hard enough to remove the paralysis she had suffered from. But that made the pain and agony far worse. She could feel every muscle being stretched to the extreme. Her thighs, spread so wide made them pulse in pain. Her arms, secured above her head made the blood slowly stop it’s flow, rendering them with the feeling of pins and needles.
But she knew struggling would be futile. Batman was the master of bondage. And she was merely a student that had failed her final exam. But then, the darkness made her other senses come alive. She could hear something. Something whirling through the air, away from her. While she tried to match the noise to the object, she heard it finally land with a soft thud, just as the lights blazed on, blinding her for a moment. Her eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the lights, and the pain of the brightness only added to her agony. But even through the fluorescent swirls, she could see Batman remove his cowl from his head, revealing his face. A face twisted and contorted with emotion. A face that she didn’t recognize. It looked like Bruce….but the expression was animal. The predator gazing upon his prey before slaughter. And behind all the satisfaction, there was a glimmer of joy.
Batgirl didn’t know what scared her more. The helplessness of her situation. Or the look on Bruce’s face. Or both. But as she watched him remove a razor sharp batarang, and begin slicing off the rest of her tattered costume, she held her breath. The slightest move could be bloody. But even in her stillness, she felt the sharp end cut into her flesh, leaving a warm and stinging sensation. She felt a tear roll from her eye, and slide it’s way down her cheek. A tear of pain and horror. But that was all she would give him. She would not beg. Nor would she plead for her freedom. This was Batman. And begging would do no good. Ever.
She realized her complete nakedness immediately. The cool air of the room caressing her most intimate parts. Her womanhood flinched as it was stretched, allowing the air to caress her, almost intimately. But it was the look in his eyes as he watched her, studied her, that truly gave her body a chill. Her nipples were taut and erect, partly by the fear she was feeling. Partly by the cool air conditioned room. But mostly because a part of her…a small part…had always wanted for Bruce to look at her. Sexually. Like he did with Selina. Or Vicki. Or any of the other conquests in his love life. A small fraction wanted to be noticed by him. To be made felt like a woman, and not just a silly little girl. But not like this. Not against her will.
“And here I thought the great Bruce Wayne had a queue of woman at his disposal,” she snapped at him. She wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Even if the only one she could muster was a verbal one. “And here I thought you were the one that got tied up and mounted like a pony,” she said, forcing a grin to cross her lips. If there was one thing she would never heed to him, it was her wise cracking comments. He could take her pride. Her body even. But never the essence of what made her – Batgirl.
Seeing the helplessness of her, Bruce grinned at the bareness of her open thighs, the tightness of which they were spread. The shackles which held her open, the way her inner thighs seemed to strain as he pulled her legs to the side. Pulling them more and more, soon the bottoms of her ankles were pulled along side of her hips. The straining of her legs relaxing as her body sub-consciously remembered the stretching Bruce had taught her. As if nodding it approval he grunted, something guttural from the back of his throat as his palm rubbed into her thighs. Groping and feeling her muscle groups there, he ran his hand up from her knee, down and smoothing his finger tips across her inner thigh.
The words she spoke meant nothing, all beast, all predator, Bruce saw body language and bodily reactions. No matter how she defied him verbally, Bruce saw only her need, and the way she was reacting to him . "More....want more..." he spoke, commandingly. It could have been that he said he wanted more as his hand ran up, but his tone was something else, affirmation that he sensed something in her. Something that his actions wanted to happen.
Leaning down to her womanhood, he sniffed it sharply and then a strong exhale blew his hard breath upon her. The hotness of her exertions wafting across its bareness, made him almost smile. His eyes roamed up, looking up to her as his nostrils kept a steady, rhythmic breath across her exposed clitoris. Looking up past he massive, rounded breasts. Even from here, Bruce saw the firmness of their globular peaks, her face barely visible past them.
Babs fought against every sensation she was feeling. Helplessness. Hurt. Pain. Confusion. A million more whose words seemed to escape her very thought. But as she felt her body being pulled, strained, she forced herself to concentrate. To relax her muscles and allow her legs to move. Or suffer the tearing of her muscles which were being stretched beyond their capacity.
The concentration was nearly impossible as she felt his touch. Soft and intruding. Starting at her knee and slowly working it’s way up her thigh. Her skin goose bumped at the sensation and she cursed, silently to herself. Part of her was reacting to him. A small part. But a part none the less. His words, wanting more, were nearly unrecognizable. They were animalistic. Nearly incoherent. But she could never mistake their tone. It was beyond Batman.
Her lip quivered a bit as she searched for words. Anything. Any protest that she could muster. Any plea for him to release her bindings. But nothing came out. Nothing except the soft escape of a sigh. Her head shook in protest, as best as it could. But her body was screaming out a different opinion. One that she knew Batman already knew. Evident by the way he neared his head to her womanhood.
He sniffed her, like an animal searching for it’s prey. And instantly Babs knew that her body had given her away. The moistness of her womanhood was apparent. Not only to him. But to herself as well. The second she felt his breath against her, she could sense the wetness. The deception of her need versus the desire to be released.
Her eyes shot downwards, watching him. Anticipating his next move. She could see the tip of his head below her pert nipples, looking up at her. His eyes cold and filled with anticipation. There was nothing human remaining in them. She knew he was overtaken. She knew she could plead all she wanted and they would fall upon deaf ears. But above all, she knew she had been defeated.
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Scolding of the Bat