SUBMISSION CRISIS

BOOK I: GOTHAM SIRENS SINGING

by Pegasus
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I've been getting requests for a DC Universe Submission Agenda for years now, and decided it was finally time to get down to business. I went through a lot of different concepts before settling on this idea. The Second Agenda is not, as I originally intended, a direct sequel, but instead a re-imagining. You do not need to read Submission Agenda to enjoy this story. It takes place in the post-reboot DC Universe.

AS ALWAYS, feedback, plot and character suggestions are much appreciated at benchleyfan01@yahoo.com. 

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(I) CAT IN THE BAG

I admit in hindsight it was probably a bad idea to pursue a career of crime in Gotham City. But the city's famous love for vice made it a natural choice when I left the middle of the country and relative obscurity behind. I was setting out into the world, a young man trying to choose his destiny, and Gotham afforded that opportunity. I knew even then - I suppose I've always known - that I harbored a deep urge to dominate. I wanted power. Or, I should say, more power. My life has never been an average one. I lost my parents at a young age, young enough that they apparently failed to instill their moral compass in me. When they were gone, my life took a new path, one I was able to set for myself, thanks to a miracle of my genetics. I never wanted to label myself as a hero or a villain, but clearly I had been gifted at birth with… incredible abilities, which put me in a class that made choosing my life path a simple matter.

Simple… it had been simple that night she first came to my room. The woman who inspired it all. My search for power could have led me a hundred ways, but her intervention was… fortuitous. And what led her to me? Why, of course the fact that I chose to pursue a career of crime in Gotham City. I thought my age would keep me under the radar as I amassed wealth and influence, but she saw me. And that's how I wound up with this gorgeous bitch, squeezed in skintight black leather, crouching above me in bed. 

"Wake up, punk," she hissed, her lips an inch from my face. I was startled into consciousness and found myself pinned by one of this dark city's most infamous vigilantes - known to me then only as Catwoman. 

We were alone in the massive bedroom of my penthouse atop one of Gotham's premier tenement houses. The master thief apparently had no problem deactivating or evading my security system and now she had me defenseless, helpless, at her mercy. Or so she thought. 

As I realized what was happening, I steeled myself and kept silent, certain that I could not escape by force. I could feel her tight grip on my arms and the taut musculature of her toned body. In the moonlight that filtered in through the windows, I could see her outline - fuck, she was beautiful, face hovering over mine, perfect features contorted with anger. Large, heavy-lidded, dark eyes, a cute button-nose. Thick, red painted lips, a lock of dark hair sprouting from under her headpiece, covering her forehead.  She was the peak of athleticism, possessed of a slim frame with striking curves that gave her a sexual edge. I could see the rising curve of her buttocks behind her, that slick catsuit open at the front, zipper drawn halfway down her chest, impressive cleavage on display. Perhaps intended as a distraction, to weaken my resolve even further as she intimidated me physically.

All at once, my initial shock and fear of this woman began to melt into desire. She displayed a raw power I found fascinating - a challenge. I knew that as my lust for Catwoman grew, my body would begin to emit powerful pheromones, part of my sexually based power set. They were chemically designed to attack the female desire and at such close range, she would be especially susceptible. 

"There's a new prostitution syndicate in town, delivering high-class, well-trained escorts to the elite of Gotham," she growled. "Wealthy socialites, eligible heiresses, pageant winners… dropping off the grid. I've been tracking the ring for months, and do you know what makes it unique? No conspicuous pimp or pusher at the top. Only a kid. A child."

Even though I ran one of the most successful escort services in town, I had hoped my extreme privacy and young age would keep me hidden. I handled none of the business, none of the money. She probably assumed I was some sort of fall guy or someone important's kid. This fatal misjudgment on her part would cost the costumed cat burglar dearly. She still thought she was in total control, but little did she know it was nothing more than an illusion, a facade I could crack as I had done a hundred times before. Since I realized the true potential of my powers, I had spent much time studying the ranks of super humans that populated this planet. We seemed to be living in a new age of super-powered idols. But not all of them were gifted with extraordinary, impossible talents. As far as I could tell from all the news reports and Internet rumors, Catwoman was just a woman under that tight black suit. And that meant she was vulnerable.

"I'm fifteen, bitch," I sneered, probably sounding exactly like the punk she thought I was. I began to writhe in her clutches, not really trying to escape. I was more interested in rubbing my body on hers through the silk sheets. My desire for this beautiful creature was rushing through me now, blood pumping into my cock, forming a steadily rising erection below the covers. She would be able to feel it soon, but for now I relied on using the friction between us to stimulate her subconsciously, even as my pheromones attacked her resolve. This close, she would be breathing in heavy doses of my musk. She was weaker by the second and I knew it.

"That's exactly what I said, junior: a kid." She bared her teeth at me. "So that means there's someone behind the scenes running this whole show. Who do you report to? Talk, or mama slice."

She would be breathing in my scent deeply now, impatient anger playing across those features as I stayed silent, enjoying the first stabs of lust in my body. This perfect specimen, here, in my bed, of her own accord. It was as if the world was simply throwing me opportunities. But I had never attempted anything so audacious. If this went sour, I would be in the deepest shit of my life. I studied her face, looking for that sign of weakness I could exploit. I could feel her breathing heavily already, the combination of my grinding on her body and my pheromones bringing her lusts up to meet mine. I began to feel a deep resentment for this arrogant bitch. Entering my home of her own accord, interrogating me, threatening me? She was a grown woman of remarkable talents, and here she was, intimidating a teenager in his bed. And she did it with such joy, such… ease. She was used to intimidation and the use of power. She liked having an edge and exploiting it, and she saw in me something to exploit. This arrogant bitch.

"Please, you have to believe me, it's not my fault," I lied blatantly. "I'm a fall guy! I had no choice."

"We always have a choice," she intoned, and already I could feel her grip on me fading just slightly as she began to let her guard down. The pheromones would target her pleasure centers, simultaneously weakening her resolve. "No one can make you do anything."

"Oh really?" I asked. Such condescending words from of all things, a thief. A scavenger. A parasite. I was furious with her. I desperately wanted her.

Her face was a mask of contempt.

"You're a bit young," she murmured, "And I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand anyway. All you need to do is point me in the direction of your boss, so I can use him as a scratching post."

"You know, I've never met a vigilante up close. You're very beautiful, Catwoman."

She was taken aback for a moment, then sneered and brought a clawed hand to my face, pressing its points against my flesh. But in the instant her hand released my arm, I reached up and grasped the zipper pull at the front of her outfit, yanking it an inch down, baring more of her cleavage to my gaze. For such an athletic woman, she had quite large breasts. I brushed the back of my hand against the exposed cleavage and felt her shiver. She froze. Feelings of palpable lust would be flowing through her by now, her body rebelling against her mind. It was the closeness that did her in. My powers are potent, but her continued close proximity to me made them that much more so. Pure simplicity. How many other times had I pushed a woman into surrendering her body to me? How many times had I betrayed a woman's confidence, then taken everything from her but dedication to me? How different could Catwoman be?

"L-let go right now or I cut you up like a paper doll," she growled.

"Please," I responded calmly, killing time, letting her breathe in. "Just calm down. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm helpless. Just relax."

"Shut your mouth," she grimaced. It was taking hold in her, a deep desire she would now never be rid of. I could see its effects, her nipples obviously erect in that tight suit. This would be a new feeling for her, a confusing one, to be so lustful in such an inopportune moment, so I pushed my luck, continuing to unzip her. 

"It's far too late now," I said in a level voice, feeling shaky confidence that I was right. "You might have come here hunting for me, but to me you're nothing but prey. I can make you beg for me, do you understand? You feel arousal already, I know. Your nipples are rock hard."

"What are you talking about... you're just a kid," she replied, shivering. She was distracted, confused, unsure. She started to rise, pulling away from me, only succeeding in pulling the zipper down further, and she froze again.

"How do you think I got to where I am?" I asked, pulling her gently close again. As long as she stayed near, I could force this. "By breaking sluts like you to my will. I want to fuck you, kitty, and I know that you want to fuck me too. You want it so bad that I can enslave you to it."

"Oh God," she said, hyperventilating."No… I have to go now."

A large part of her still knew this was wrong, still tried to fight it. Incredible. She was far more resistant than any woman I had ever encountered. She was pliable, but something about her… The thrill of true domination filled me, and I knew I would have to feel it again. Catwoman would not be enough for long. For the first time, the thought hit me: Superheroines. Now there's a demographic worth targeting. Some of the most beautiful and virtuous women in the world. How many of them could I take? This new intrigue filled me with lust and I pulled the sheet away from my cock. It had risen steadily and now stood proud and hard in front of me, and Catwoman was temporarily distracted by its sudden appearance. In that moment I knew for certain she was lost - the look on her face when she first regarded my dick was the same I had seen on countless women's faces in this final frantic moment of freedom. One of fear, despair and abject lust. She could not, at this point, comprehend the stakes she was playing for. She might have an inkling, but she couldn't truly know. Her lust made her only weaker while it made me stronger… Her body would tell her it was alright to surrender, to give in to lust, and that fundamental weakness would doom her. She tore her eyes away from my cock, stared at me with a pleading, helpless gaze. Such a delicious look, submission. 

She moaned as I moved in closer and pushed my hand under that black leather, finally grasping one of her breasts. Soft, warm inside the bodysuit, but so firm, I grinned as I squeezed and she screamed out loud. She was now struggling to get away, so I decided to make my move. It was risky, but would be well worth it. Moving quickly, I took her by the front of the catsuit and by the back of her head and guided Catwoman down to my crotch, smearing my cock over her exposed face. Already I was leaking pre-cum and I oozed it onto her as she resisted. These fluids would super-sensitize her flesh - another element of my powers - driving a deep fucklust into her that could only be sated when I took her, and when that happened the chemical agents in my semen would bend her mind beyond repair. Already her willpower was at an all-time low as I smeared my cock on her cheeks.

"Please, no!" she cried out. "No!"

As she mouthed that word, I shoved my dick into her round mouth, and I savored the look of total terror in her eyes as I speared Catwoman's face with ease. Those pouting red lips, spread wide around my length. She was mine now. I sawed into her and she gagged.

"No one can make you do anything, right, slut?" I teased her, and she cried out in defiance.

"Taste the cock of your new Master," I said softly as she screamed around my shaft. She could bite down violently at any time, but I was gambling on my will besting hers at this crucial moment. My fluids were leaking in her mouth. The reaction my chemistry produces deep within any female's body is startling. But in its purest form… It is devastating. She panicked, choking on me, tongue flicking wildly at the underside of my shaft, trying to push me out. I was more confident now, but I didn't want this pretentious, costumed bitch getting the wrong idea. 

"Do you know how many women I've taken like you? You are a common whore. Suck my cock. Now."

Catwoman's eyes grew wide and she looked up at me in desperation. I smiled down at her, pumping into her wet mouth. She flailed wildly but ineffectually, panicked by the alien feelings of humiliation and forced sex running through her. But her resistance evaporated as I continued to ooze my pre-cum into her throat. I felt her moan as she got her first real taste of my fluids and her eyes, still on me, softened. Her lids drooped and she moaned again appreciatively before slowly beginning a deliberate sucking on my cock. I thrust further into her, hitting the back of her throat. Her tongue slathered my shaft before she swallowed my dick. She did her best to adapt, still crouched awkwardly above me, head craned down and bouncing on my lap. I sat up and held her head in place, fucking her throat. This had to be fast. I wanted to cum in her, forever bind her to me chemically. I knew once she got a taste of my cream, she would never crave anything else.

"I am your lover and your Master," I said. The only sounds in the room were this violated bitch's sucks and slurps. "Your mind is my plaything, your body my possession. In return for your submission I offer you rapture beyond your imagination."

As I crossed the line, I pulled my cock out of her throat and into her sucking mouth, then exploded with pleasure. Catwoman's tongue massaged the underside of my glans heavily as I pumped cream into her, cream she readily swallowed. But my prodigious talents for ejaculation were more than she could handle - this I already knew. Massive production of sexual fluids is one of the side effects of my powers, so I decided to use it well. I filled her mouth with hot cum quickly even as she swallowed again and again, and as her eyes turned up to meet mine in bewilderment, I smiled and kept her from detaching. I enjoyed the wet, frantic sounds of her gagging as jism filled her mouth and gullet, saw rivulets breaking from the corners of her mouth, as still she swallowed more. The vast amounts of my fluids she was now accepting would change this bitch forever, more than she could even fathom.

As her eyes bulged and her face began to turn a deep scarlet, I at last withdrew and Catwoman began coughing violently as I erupted with finality over her face. I painted her with a sick white line that crossed her cute, masked face diagonally, even as she let excess cum spill from her mouth onto her exposed cleavage. Seeing this, I at last tore her catsuit open, baring both her tits to me in the pale moonlight. I massaged my sperm into them as a hacking Catwoman was helpless to resist the coating. Then I lunged forward, and pinning her under at me at last, pushed my cock back between her lips once again, demanding she clean me off. She reacted dutifully and I moaned out loud as she sucked hard, hungry for the last dregs. I reached down to open her mask, removing her cum-smudged goggles and sinking a hand into her close-cropped black hair as she drank the last of my load. 

"That's it kitty, take your cream," I whispered.

In the aftermath of this massive sexual outpouring, I withdrew and pulled her head back, resting my glans on her chin but refusing her the privilege to suck it. She extended a long, catlike tongue, licking the traces of my essence off her face. All the while, she held eye contact.

"Your cum…" she moaned in wonderment. "So fucking good… I've never… ever…"

"Tell me your name, bitch," I crowed. "I want to know your secret identity, Catwoman."

When she predictably hesitated, I moved my glans up and rubbed it over her upper lip. Her tongue flicked the shaft delicately, dutifully, and I saw resignation in her eyes. That moment of total submission I had been waiting for.

"I am your Master now, and you are my whore," I reminded her. "My slave. You and your body belong to me."

"The name's Selina," she replied. "Selina Kyle... Master."

I released her and pulled away, sitting at the end of the bed opposite her. She lay back, propped up on her arms, silhouetted by the moon, and proceeded to eat the cum I had coated her tits with, collecting it off her fingers with hearty slurps of that tongue. She looked picturesque, reclining, feeding on my cream. A complete reversal in less than fifteen minutes. I'll bet she never expected this is how the night would end.

"You've got to fuck me, Master," she said matter-of-factly. "My pussy… It's burning… aching… for you. So hot already… I need your cock… Your cum!"

"I haven't even seen you naked yet, kitty bitch," I said, fisting a still-hard cock. My balls swelled with excess cum as my body prepared another load for my vigilante slave. Vigilante… Not a super heroine, I thought, watching her hurriedly disrobe. First her large, heavy boots, her gloves, then her belt buckle, bullwhip falling to the floor unused. Selina ran with a big crowd, but she was not a paragon of virtue by any measure. A thief. A burglar. How much more satisfying a crime-fighting bitch would be, how thrilling to subvert her principles… My thoughts ran wild as I looked down, feasting my eyes on Catwoman's half-naked body as she slipped the catsuit over her shoulders, then peeled it off her arms, her back, her hips. Her skin glowed in the low light and she wiggled sexily. I reached forward to help her strip her legs of the outfit. Only red, lacy panties separated me now from taking her. 

I simply tore the brief undergarment apart with my hands and lifted Selina's legs, tossing her feet over my shoulders. She was flexible, a gymnast. A seductive smile widened across her face as I leaned down, stretching her legs and teasing her snatch, then piercing her, beginning to fill her with long, solid strokes. She let out yelps and cries as I fucked down into her, our faces once again inches apart but our positions quite reversed from just a few minutes before. Her body glistened with sweat from a night of activity and she squeezed her eyes shut as my strokes grew faster.

"You realize you are the first," I hissed at her, pushing down hard as we fucked by moonlight. "Before you enter my stable of whores you'll set in action a chain that will lead me to others like you… All the heroines will fall to me like you, slave."

"Ohhhhh God!" she cried, moaning wantonly. "Yes, Master!"

I spread her legs wide and strummed her clit with one hand while tweaking a nipple with the other, her titflesh still sensitive from the jism it had received. She screamed loudly as I sprayed into her, my cum triggering her own orgasm, as it was genetically designed to do. Selina lost it, thrashing under me in the throes of the wildest orgasm she had ever known. I kept fucking down into her, filling her pussy to overflowing with my cum. I collected it on my fingers and fed it into her screaming mouth. She stopped to suck hungrily, shrieks fading into muted squeals. I gave her more. I didn't stop thrusting into her, driving toward an immediate follow-up orgasm, her tight, athletic body rocked, her eyes meeting mine then rolling back from the overload of pleasure as she began to black out. Finally spent, I pulled back and pushed myself away from her well-fucked body. Her legs flopped to the bed, my cum leaking from her and staining the sheets underneath.

Selina lay unconscious for twenty minutes while I just sat, planning. I had emptied two massive loads into Selina, dousing her like I had with no woman in years… yet I remained rock-solid. My erection would not go away, throbbing, calling out to me to use my power on more super-sluts. If Selina was truly only the first of many, I would need to learn more before setting my plan in motion. Catwoman served only one real purpose now, besides that of a fucktoy - she could lead to more information. When she finally began to rouse from her post-fuck stupor, I advanced on her.

(II) ATANNAZ DEVALSNE

By the time the sun came up, I had been ravaging the body of my new slave-slut for hours. I fucked her vigorously, without stopping, and as I dispatched load after load of my cream into her tight pussy, her mind began to soften. My fluids would warp and twist her spirit towards submission and cock worship, cementing her place as my property. Selina let me move her limbs, stretching and contorting her athletic body, a beatific smile plastered on her her flushed face (along with heavy dollops of cum) as I pounded into her. This made her pliant, and where she had once been less than eager to speak on any topic, she was now putty in my hands. There was only one speed bump.

"I know you have liaisons with the Batman," I growled, hands squeezing her ass as I fucked down into her. Her body was limply thrown over the edge of my expansive bed, legs on either side of me as I thrust into her cunt. "I want to know his real name. Who's under the mask?"

She whined, craning her neck, gazing back at me with half-lidded eyes. Clearly she had true loyalty to the Bat. Her body looked beautiful in the morning light, a sheen of sweat accentuating her every curve. I spanked her, hard, and watched that fine body flinch. 

"Answer me, my slut," I said. "Obey your Master."

"Please, Master," she whimpered, lost in the midst of the most intense sex high of her life. "Anything but that…"

"You will tell me," I said, grabbing her by her hair and pulling her head back, pumping with new power into her spasming pussy. "Now or later."

She could only scream and spew gibberish as I drove her to another orgasm. It did not matter that I could not break this barrier. Catwoman was mine now, her devotion to the Bat meaningless in the face of her sexual servitude. I left her wordlessly and she slumped off the side of the bed, dancing on the edge of unconsciousness as her body reeled at the heavenly sensations I gave her. My plot was still in its infancy. Gotham's Dark Knight presented the biggest threat to my goals, but I didn't need to know who was under that cowl right now. I would deal with it at the appropriate time. And besides, I already had another target, one my Selina had given up easily.

Catwoman had more than one link to the Justice League, the most powerful group of super-humans on the planet. And while I was hesitant to take my plan to such a risky level, something else stirred inside me and led me forward. It could be the fact that my target made herself very public. She was a fascinating woman, a heroine, a performer, something of a cult icon. And she was walking allure, her sex appeal emphasized in all the advertising I saw for her shows... 

She was a descendent of some of the most famous mages of the last century. She had been a stage magician before lending her inherited talents to a life of fighting evil, and she still toured. As a result she had apparently found it difficult to maintain a secret identity, and as one of the most potentially powerful members of the League, she no doubt trusted her ability to defend herself. It was up to me to make that defense meaningless. I gazed for long minutes at her photo on the website of a theater in Gotham where she had an upcoming show. She was beautiful, that much was certain. Long, thick locks of jet black hair, heavy mascara and deep red lipstick, full-figured and not afraid to show it off... I lost myself in her fishnet-clad legs, in the swell of cleavage rising impossibly from the top of her tight waistcoat. Not the most practical of crime-fighting outfits, but I'm sure plenty of her male fans could appreciate her fashion sense.

Selina had referred me to Zatanna Zatara, crying as I fucked the information out of her - the intricacies of her formidable powers, her weaknesses, how to defeat her. The two were friends but old loyalties meant little in Selina's new life. The stakes grew very high very quickly as I orchestrated a trap for my first heroine, but my lust for her, and my desire to dominate another costumed bitch, powered my ambition. Catwoman had been a fluke, a stroke of tremendous luck. She had brought herself to me and been doomed by her own hubris. But now I set out to take a more proactive role, not knowing if what I was doing could work even in the slightest. I had to be sure of the angles, couldn't misjudge anything. I was taking an enormous risk to my personal safety. But how much more satisfying it would be to take one of these women by force, making her power useless, bringing about her downfall. 

When she was once again capable of forming full sentences, I had my Selina arrange a meeting between myself and Zatanna Zatara. I was to play the part of a concerned but wealthy young citizen who was interested in funding community super-groups and I needed a sponsor. Arrangements were made for the next night, when Zatanna had a show in Gotham. The impeccable timing put a tight deadline on my actions. I had to prepare. 

I checked my laptop and got myself up-to-date with the current affairs of the service I ran. I ran it by proxy, but I always kept myself apprised of the daily comings-and-goings of my escorts. I saw that day the schedule included the state's lieutenant-governor, along with several Gotham City councilmen, high-profile CEOs, and public officials. My high-class escort service was feeding the sexual urges of the most prominent men in this city already. Just as my myriad sluts held an insatiable addiction to my cream, so Gotham was developing an addiction to my girls.

****

This crazy scheme would require me to act like a super-wealthy teenager, which should come naturally, but I still felt a bit goofy standing outside the door to Zatanna's dressing room after the show that night, sweating in a tuxedo, passing a gift basket back and forth in my hands nervously. I had just sat through the entirety of her show and sported a rampant erection through most of it. This was after a day of fantasizing and plotting while Selina took a cat-nap. My arousal for Zatanna was near total, which meant I might make some rash decisions. But it also meant my pheromones would be in overdrive. Now the moment was upon me. I knocked.

"Oh hi," she said, nonchalantly opening the door and inviting me in. "You must be the kid I got an email about."

She was radiant, even more gorgeous in person, still sporting her sexy magician's outfit, though I could see street clothes tossed over a nearby couch. I tried to keep my eyes off her legs, off her tits, as she removed her tailcoat and placed it on a coat rack with her top hat. I was taken aback by her beauty, but I doubt she even noticed me appraising her body as I presented the gift basket to her, smiling.

"It's a pleasure to meet you finally," I said, closing the door behind me. In close quarters, my powers would begin to have their desired effect. My heart beat faster at the thought of another costumed bitch breathing in my desire. "I've been a fan for a long time."

"Yeah, well I hope you're not some kind of stalker or something," she replied, setting the gift basket aside and turning away to remove her earrings in the mirror. "I've had enough of those for this month."

I smiled, strolling closer to her. She was funny. Funny, if borderline insulting. I felt arousal grip me and I forced images of us coupling out of my mind.

"No, no, the proposal I had for you was strictly professional," I said, standing almost directly behind her now. She would be breathing me in just as her cat burglar friend had done the night before. And this night was still young. She turned around, gave me a look of surprise to find me so close, then shrugged, walking around me. She didn't consider me a threat. Why would she? I was a punk kid, there on recommendation from one of her trusted allies. She had no way of knowing the shit that was about to go down.

"From what I heard you're looking into funding supers," she said as she placed her jewelry in a box on the counter on the other side of the small room. I waited for my powers to take effect. "That's admirable, but… Why do you want to talk to me? I'm affiliated with the Justice League, but I'm not exactly a team leader."

"Oh, you'll do fine," I said warmly, stepping forward again. I perceived a slight balance shift in her posture a moment before she took a seat on the couch, looking woozy. I stepped forward, taking a seat beside her. "Your performance was magnificent tonight. Your skill at showmanship was remarkable."

"Thank you," she replied, shaking her head slightly to rid herself of thoughts I knew my powers were planting in her mind. Feelings I was planting in her body. 

"You enjoy performing, being the center of attention," I said, leaning slightly closer. It wasn't a question, but she shook her head again, face blushing. 

"It's in my family," she said, distracted as myriad feelings rushed through her. "We've always been performers."

"You stand up on stage, front and center. Put yourself on display. You crave attention," I said, staring deeply into her eyes. "I've met women like you before."

"I-I-I guess so," she replied, flustered and increasingly distracted. I saw her shift uncomfortably, cross and uncross her legs. "Wow, is it hot in here?"

I was distracted for a moment, eyes falling to her heaving breasts as she took deep breaths. Three buttons at the front of her waistcoat prevented her cleavage from spilling free. I wondered if I could reach forward now, unbutton her, force her to submit to the feelings she was beginning only now to recognize… No. It was too risky.

"Take some water," I said, tearing open the gift basket and handing her a bottle. She accepted it unthinkingly and unscrewed the cap as I watched. She took a single gulp then lowered the bottle, making a face at the bitter taste of the water. She looked at me inquisitively, and then her eyes shot wide as the effects of the drug hit her. Realization flashed in her face, and then a look of unfathomable rage, and her lips parted to speak… 

I lunged forward, planting a hand over her mouth to muffle the spell she was preparing to cast. Before I knew it, her hands were around my throat, squeezing with a desperation backed by adrenaline and pure survival instinct. I am not a large or particularly formidable individual in hand-to-hand combat, and at best I could hope to pin her with my weight for a few seconds. Zatanna had years of training on me, but I felt that grip on my throat loosening. She shook her head, trying to dislodge me, but I simply could not afford to let go. I jumped on her, wrapping my knees around her torso, pressing her down, using my wait to keep my hand planted on her throat. She screamed against my palm, uselessly, and I stared into her eyes as her irises began rolling back. I leaned in then, her hands falling to the sides as I uncovered her mouth and kissed her deeply, savoring her taste. My tongue ran along her lips, outlining her slack mouth as a final few quiet moans of resistance trailed off and her eyes fluttered shut. She was out now, there could be no doubt, but I held the kiss until I was absolutely sure she had passed into unconsciousness. I sat back, shaking with excitement, my own heart pumping frantically. The drugs acted fast, but they would not keep her out long, so I moved swiftly as my plan went into effect. 

First, I strode to the dressing room door and locked it, ensuring there would be no interruptions for the duration of the coming encounter. Then, as I turned on my vulnerable prey, I removed from my jacket the only weapon I had brought along - a bright red ball gag. Zatanna's prodigious magical abilities were based on speech - she had to be able to recite a spell or incantation for it to have effect. She was immensely powerful, yes… But she had one exploitable weakness and I had to take advantage of it. I smiled and mentally thanked my Selina as I cradled the magician's head in my hands, fixing the ball gag to her face tightly. My prick was regaining the full rigidity I had managed during the magic show, as I was so close now to taking her, making her mine. As I spread her full lips around the rubber ball, I imagined how they would spread for me later. Some short lengths of rope were all I needed to bind Zatanna to the black couch, immobilizing her. I had hidden this rope at the bottom of the gift basket, of course, and as I laid her out, my hands roamed across her body, feeling the silky smoothness of her fishnet-clad thighs, pausing a moment to squeeze a breast through her waistcoat. Then I tied her tightly to the couch, spread-eagled. 

She began to awaken a short time after that, and I stood watching her as her curvaceous body twitched and stretched. I was removing my clothes as I inspected her, my eyes drawn again and again to those long legs, the kinky fishnets. What would inspire a heroine to adopt such sexy attire as an outfit? I wondered. Many of these costumed protectors wore similarly slutty clothing. I supposed it was par for the course. I stripped myself of my shirt and pants as Zatanna finally awakened fully below me, opening her eyes and letting out a muffled cry of surprise, then screaming into the ball gag as she realized what was happening. Her eyes were wide and filled with genuine horror and I watched her wriggle in her bonds with much enjoyment. As a performing illusionist, I supposed she was entirely capable of freeing herself from the knotted rope in a short time. So I decided to get straight to it.

"I'm going to level with you," I smirked, shedding my underwear and beginning a steady fisting of my cock before her eyes. "I had ulterior motives coming into this meeting."

She screamed again and I chuckled as she thrashed against the bonds to no avail. I stepped toward her and she froze, eyes darting around the room. She stopped screaming through the gag and began speaking in muffled tones, but I couldn't tell if she was pleading with me or attempting to conjure a spell. Either way, it was useless. I knelt between her legs and reached down, unbuttoning that waistcoat at last.

"Selina arranged this meeting not because I'm a concerned citizen, but because she is my slave, bound to my will and obedient in every way," I said, grinning wide as Zatanna attempted to wriggle away from me. I tore her garment open, revealing glorious, brassiere-encased cleavage and a flat white abdomen. 

"Just as you will be," I said, running my fingertips over the black lace push-up bra, feeling her quake and shiver beneath me. Tears welled in her eyes as she regarded me with sheer terror, sensing the impending violation of her body. She could not possibly comprehend the depths of depravity I would plunge her into, not yet, and I doubt she even believed I was telling the truth about her friend, but in that moment she surely felt the power stripped away from her. Likewise, she would still be feeling the effects of my pheromones flowing through her, at all times weakening her resolve, making her want it. Any magical protection she had would be unprepared for my chemical advantage. As Zatanna sputtered around the ball gag, I only regretted that I couldn't hear the bitch beg as I raped her. 

"Aaaaaaaaagggggghhhhhh!!!" she screamed in resistance, but it was no use. 

My hands were on her legs, running up and  down her thighs, appreciating their smoothness and firm musculature. Zatanna was no body-builder, but she was in excellent shape. I slipped my fingers through her wide-gauge fishnets and then suddenly ripped them, leaving a gaping hole just because I could. I laughed as she squirmed and shrieked at this assault, then slid a hand under her to squeeze her fantastic ass. Reminding myself again to hurry before she found away to escape my bonds, I tugged on the fabric covering that ass until her matching black panties and garter belt were exposed. 

"You can do nothing to resist me, Zatanna," I said, tearing her garters and panties asunder, baring her crotch to me. My eyes centered on the small black strip of pubic hair and I noted her pussy was already glistening, preparing itself for me. She tried desperately to force her legs together but I prevented this easily. Nothing could stop me now. "I've taken a hundred sluts like you in my time. You are no different. Your friend Selina paid me a visit last night thinking she could intimidate me, but in a matter of minutes I had raped her and made her my fuckslave. And do you know who she referred me to first when I told her I wanted a super heroine slave too?"

The stage illusionist/heroine shook her head wildly, eyes shut, refusing to accept this reality. I reached down and grabbed her by the hair, steadying her and forcing her to look me in the eyes. An instant later, I was prodding the outer lips of her cunt with my dickhead. Her screams rose in pitch as I wiped her pussy with my glans, but I knew they would be too muffled for anyone passing by outside to hear. My pre-cum leaked onto her, its super-sensitizing properties capable of breaking down her resistance within moments. I watched the strange contortion of her face as my fluids came in contact with her clitoris, sending a sharp rush of lust through her that caused her hips to buck uncontrollably. I smirked and collected some more fluids on my fingers, then tore down the cups of her bra, exposing her full, white breasts. I rubbed my pre-coital cream onto each soft, pink nipple liberally and she squealed. I traced the outline of one large aureola, my dick hovering at the entrance to her cunt.

"Yes, feel it," I hissed as her capacity to fight me ebbed. "Feel the pleasure I can give you, Zatanna. I will enslave you to these feelings. I am your Master already! There is nothing you can do."

She let out a long, sorrowful cry as I took her cunt at last, forcing my way in with ease. Her velvety warmth was everything I imagined it would be, but I drew the most pleasure from the submission in Zatanna's eyes as she was raped. She looked up at me with pleading, glittering eyes, tears now flowing freely, mascara staining her flushed cheeks. My hands were on her tits as I thrust into her, squeezing and pinching hard, knowing my pre-cum had engendered a lust in her she would never escape. 

"I knew I could make you mine when I saw your show," I grunted, fucking her with brutal, bucking motions. "You dress like a hooker, stand on stage to be ogled as you do your parlor tricks. For such a powerful woman, Zatanna, you have a fatal weakness. You want to be seen, to be noticed. You're a whore for the attention. How many men in that audience, do you think, wanted to fuck you? How many will fantasize about you later tonight?"

Her scream was broken by sobs as she shook in fear, her tits jiggling marvelously on her chest. The sight was heavenly. I placed my hands on her hips and thrust into her.

She cried, blubbering an unintelligible denial as my words filled her mind, just as my cock filled her hot cunt. If I came in her now, it would break her without a doubt. She was swiftly  reaching a sexual zenith unlike anything she'd ever experienced - the emotions of terror, humiliation, and pleasure blending beneath my thrusts. Her hips, once desperate to escape my clutches, adapted to my rhythm naturally and she started to fuck me back, even as she still screamed in resistance. Body rebelling against the mind. I looked down calmly at her as she let out a guttural moan. Acquiescence to this gift that only I could now give to her. So she had no magical resistance to my chemical powers after all, I marveled. This had been the sole variable in my plan. But I had truly rendered her defenseless, and gained a significant victory. I breathed heavily as I upped the tempo of the fucking, eliciting yelps from my defeated magician bitch.

She screwed her hips against me, eyes shut in rapture, then quaked as I twisted her sensitive nipples hard. She convulsed in orgasm, head thrown back, back arched, thrusting her titties toward me. Sweat dripped from my forehead onto her naked chest, and I lowered my face into her cleavage, sucking and licking her goose-bumped titflesh. She let out a primal yell as I finally began shooting ropes of thick, hot cum into her - the fluids triggering another instant orgasm in her body, binding her to me permanently. Her mind could simply not take it… I knew this from experience. They always break. I flooded her cunt and toward the end of my orgasm I reached down and undid the ball gag, knowing Zatanna was now mine. I pulled my dick out of her and waved it before her face, dropping more jism onto her naked chest.

In the instant I released her, she could have uttered a spell to condemn me to eternal torment. She could have screamed for help, or cursed me. Instead, she uttered only one word - "Master!" - before devouring the dribbling cock I presented to her face. I moaned and ran my hands through her jet black hair as her tongue came up to flick the underside of my glans, before working its way up and down my length, over and over. 

"Yes, my slut, taste it," I said as she hummed around me. She sucked voraciously for the next several minutes, until the last traces of my seed were down her throat. Finally she released my dick with a pop of her lips, and I moved to untie her.

"Sweet Jesus," she breathed, lying back in exhaustion. "I've never felt anything like that before… Your cum is so… So fucking good… How… what..."

I smiled as she attempted to put into words the new emotions running through her. Feelings of intense loyalty to me, of gratitude for gifting her with such pleasure, a lingering hunger for my cum that she would never be rid of. I freed her arms and moved down to her legs. Quickly, she collected the cum lining her chest and ate it too. I was reminded of the night before, when Catwoman had done the same thing. I had slept little since then, riding the high of sexual domination. I got the feeling I would sleep very little that night as well. 

"You're just a kid," she murmured as I freed her. "How old are you?"

"I'm fifteen, Zatanna, and I demand the respect I deserve. I am your Master now - your body is mine to do with as I please. You serve my will, now and forever."

She nodded slowly, eyes wide. I could see her mind racing, trying to fully fathom the consequences of her capitulation. I began to redress myself even as she sat, still speckled with my cream, her magician's outfit in tatters. A thousand questions were running through her mind.

"I… why are you doing this?" This was the question she finally settled on.

"Because I can," I replied, shrugging as I pulled my pants back up. "Since I hit puberty, I've fucked every girl and woman I've wanted or desired. I've been able to amass a small personal fortune by turning the women of my dreams into common whores, selling their bodies for my profit. Now I've come to Gotham to get even richer - I run the largest escort service in town. That's why Selina came to me - to bring me to justice. Instead, she will now join my ranks as a high-class prostitute and my personal sex slave. And all you... heroines are in for it."

"Y-you can't be serious," she stammered, looking at me with concern tainted by deep and growing arousal. "In Gotham, Batman will find you before--"

Stupid bitch. I stepped forward, yanking Zatanna's hair back, looking down into her fearful eyes. Such impudence from a new convert was to be expected, but I could set her straight soon enough. She quivered as I pawed a naked breast, but did nothing to resist me.

"Don't question me again, slave," I said through clenched teeth. "You do as I say, nothing more. And besides… I'm working on the Batman issue as we speak."

Of course, she was right. The heavy presence of male crime-fighters was a serious obstacle to my Agenda, especially in Gotham. They would need to be dealt with somehow. The high I felt in the aftermath of Zatanna's complete debasement was unlike anything I had ever experienced - it was not only memorable for her. In a single stroke, I had proven, most importantly to myself, that it could be done. These gods didn't deserve their pedestals. They truly were just whores waiting to be tamed. I had come to this city for power. Now I could control the most powerful beings in the world. The arrogance of these sluts wouldn't stand. I really could take them all.

"Clean yourself up," I said, releasing her and continuing to dress myself. "Get your street clothes on. We're leaving."

(III) THAT MAGIC TOUCH

My whores had spent hours preparing Selina for my return, and it showed. I arrived back at my tenement with Zatanna in tow to find the former Catwoman kneeling on the bed in the quarters I had assigned to her. Her hair was expertly styled, face layered with makeup that accentuated her gorgeous features - heavy eyeliner, blush, and deep crimson lips. She wore a sheer black silk nightie with her tits firmly on display, lacy lingerie and stockings, a picture of allure as she saw me enter. 

"So you've done it then, Master," she purred as I approached, Zatanna standing, unsure, by the door. "I take it Zatanna has entered the fold."

"All thanks to you," I smiled, leaning in to kiss her passionately, sliding my hands up and down her back. 

"Join us, Zee," my Selina said, beckoning her friend forward. Zatanna approached cautiously, eyes darting back and forth. I recognized her behavior - I had not truly broken her quite yet, even after our thorough fucking. Perhaps she had more magical protection than I had thought. No matter. The night's festivities would prove hugely rewarding for us all.

"Your clothes," I said to my new magician slave. "Get rid of them."

Zatanna nodded and complied immediately, unbuttoning the front of her jeans and sliding them down her long legs. Even bereft of those irresistible fishnets, she was astoundingly beautiful - not as toned or fit as Catwoman, but more curvaceous, possessed of a thicker ass and a fuller bust. She made herself naked before me, unlacing the black corset she wore as a top and letting it fall to the floor. I glanced over at my Selina and prided myself on the look of rising desire in her eyes. My powers instilled a deep fucklust in my prey, an addiction to sex, blind to gender. Selina, who had more exposure to my fantastic cream, would be feeling the effects more than ever as Zatanna stood before us in the nude, awaiting orders nervously. 

"I want the two of you… to kiss," I stated, backing away and beginning to unbutton my shirt. Without hesitation, Selina leaned forward off the bed and took her friend by the hand, pulling her close. My prick began to stiffen as their lips met, Selina chuckling as the magician submitted to sexual advances for the second time that night - the first time from me, a stranger; now, from one of her closest friends. The kiss smoldered with blossoming passion and Selina's hands came up first to meet the other woman's slightly larger tits, then sliding down to cup her pussy. Zatanna moaned into Catwoman's mouth as she was molested, Selina leaning back and pulling her fellow slave with her. I watched from the end of the bed, naked, masturbating slowly, as the two locked lips, Zatanna now straddling Selina. Muffled moans and grunts filled the room as they submitted to their desires, and as my eyes feasted on their intertwined flesh, I decided I should act. It was time to test the abilities of my magic girl. 

I stepped around behind her, jacking steadily now, watching those full ass cheeks slowly rising and falling as she ground her pussy into the shorter-haired woman's hand. I reached out with my free hand to grab one cheek, or as much as I could grab, and squeezed. The whore moaned deeply as my thumb manipulated the tight rosette of her asshole while Selina simultaneously sank two knuckles in her cunt. Seeing my intent out of the corner of her eye, Selina protested.

"Master, give me your cock!" she cried, detaching from the drooling lips of a stunned Zatanna, who could only grunt and then let out a long moan as I prodded her anus with my cock, smearing a drop of pre-cum into her. The carnal need would become vastly greater for her over the next few moments.

"You'll get yours in a minute, bitch," I growled at Selina, pushing against the resistant asshole of my newest slave. Turned to a whore in a single night, yet still possessed of all her fantastic abilities. Could I use her skills against others, to further my own gains, to feed my own pleasures, and beyond that -- could I learn to harness them? Zatanna's short fall was proof to me that I could push this bitch into realms of debauchery even I had not considered taking before. But I said I had craved power. Now, for the first time, I had the chance to truly wield it. I pulled back my foreskin, pressing the slimy head of my dick into Zatanna, past her tight anal ring. 

"Oh God!" she shouted, almost comedically loud. "Oh, yes!" I hugged her hips and pulled her back, further onto my dick, squeezing ever deeper, lubricating her with my juices, sensitizing the skin to an unbelievable degree. 

"F-f-fuck me! Fuck my ass!" she yelled, a wanton hooker shaking under the cock of her Master. I spanked the former Justice Leaguer just as Catwoman's ministrations finally drove her over the edge. She climaxed loudly, doing little more than rubbing her body over Selina's and drooling into her mouth as I began to fuck her deeply. The magician spread her own ass wide for me as Selina dove into the nape of her neck, nipping on her collar bone. I enjoyed the view, her tiny waist, flaring hips, and soft ass bouncing on my prick. 

"Zatanna, I want you to listen to me," I growled, pulling her long mane of ebony hair. "I want you to use your magic for me."

"Y-yes Master!" she called back. "Anything, Master!"

"Your tits are larger than Selina's… I want you to make hers bigger."

"Wait, what?" Selina asked.

"It--It'll hurt her," Zatanna replied.

"Obey your Master. Selina, don't fucking move."

Selina looked up in fear, pinned beneath her friend and frozen by the force of my command. Tears welled in her eyes. So weak.

"No… please… why?"

"The Bat, Selina. Who is he. Where is he?"

Zatanna reached down and took hold of Catwoman's breasts one by one as I slowed my fucking strokes into her well-lubed ass. I fucked her long and slow, running a hand down her back to rest on the side of her hip.

"Is that what this is about?" Selina asked hysterically. Further protests were cut off as the spell began.

"Stsaerb worg," the sorceress said beneath her breath, and Selina began screaming. Almost instantly, her breasts began to visibly swell, Zatanna's fingers sinking into the flesh and suffusing them with mystical energy. 

"Feel my cock in you, Zatanna," I said as Catwoman cried below us in agony. "Repeat after me: You serve me now."

"I serve you now!"

She turned, looking at me over her shoulder, bright green eyes wet with tears as she tortured her friend for my sick pleasure. But behind the fear and regret, I saw the arousal on her face. She had never used her powers like this, and I felt her thrill to the experience. And I felt it as she slammed her ass against me, squeezing me tight with her rectal muscles. A born whore. The fishnets hadn't been a coincidence. Zatanna had the soul of a slut, and I could manipulate her like a puppet once I truly squashed the spirit that made her a heroine. I could do this - replace her virtue with sheer, wanton sensuality.

"His name, Selina," I said, watching hungrily as her breasts inflated to impressive proportions, growing maybe three cup sizes in a minute. They burst the straps of the nightie and tore the front of the silk garment open, spilling forth for me to see. She screamed without abandon and struggled against Zatanna, pushing her friend away desperately. I withdrew from Zatanna's anus and let the magician fall to the side, jumping forward to pin Selina beneath me. Before she could resist, I took the massive tits in hand, kneading them brutally, pinching the engorged nipples, drawing more plaintive cries from Catwoman. I squeezed her newfound assets, grinning at the feeling, then straddled her belly, rubbing my rigid dick over her soft titflesh.

Zatanna watched from beside us, eyes wide as she watched me violate a screaming Selina. Her friend… I imagined the thoughts running through her head. Her friend had ratted her out, exposed her to a predator who in a single stroke had rendered her powerless and stolen all meaning from her life. Enslaved her to a fate she would never have deemed possible. Now her new Master had forced her into acts of depravity and cruelty that would have made her sick a day ago. Now, however… Her pussy boiled, hungry for another orgasm, and I knew the pre-cum I had coated the inside of her ass with would engender a hunger for rough anal sex she would never escape. She began to masturbate as I tit-fucked Selina back into submission.

I could feel the blood pumping through my erection, so I pushed her mammaries together and thrilled at the deep cleavage, then pressed my penis against it and pushed. My cockhead barely peeked out of the top of her cleavage when I thrust all the way in. The sensation of her tits around my shaft was enough to make me lose control; they were hot with pain, but I could turn that pain into such wonderful pleasure so easily. So quickly. I was lubricating Selina's flesh now with my cum, sensitizing her to a huge degree. 

"You're a whore, Selina," I chided her. "My property, bound to my cock. Remember that, slut!"

Catwoman squealed at the sensations. She could not resist them. I knew this. As pain became pleasure, anything resembling resistance would crumble. I had seen it too many times to count. Every new whore thinks they're special, that they have the capacity to resist at first. At first. I squeezed her breasts hard, eliciting a ragged scream from my tortured slave as even more of my cream seeped onto her body. I pinched her swollen nipples, massaged her inflamed breasts, thrust into the soft canyon of her cleavage. Her will was effectively shattered. 

"Oooohhh," she moaned, bringing her hands up to squeeze her enormous tits around my shaft as I humped against her. "Do it, Master. Do it! Fuck my titties!"

I was only too willing to comply, digging my fingers into her flesh, causing to yelp at the feeling brought about by my abuse of her newly-sensitized breasts. It seemed I couldn't fuck her tits deep or hard enough. Selina, however, was reaching orgasm presently, her pleasure centers easily overloaded by my powers. She thrashed and screamed as a tit-fucking gave her the greatest climax of her life.

I released her bosom and withdrew my rock-hard cock, yet to attain my own peak. I dribbled heavy cream over her chest, but it was just excess in preparation for the true load. My testicles had swollen, as if in sympathy to Selina's predicament, but I was familiar with this phenomenon. My balls produced huge amounts of jism, and my scrotum regularly expanded to compensate. I looked up to see Zatanna's wide eyes locked on my genitals as she continued to finger-fuck herself toward another crashing orgasm. I reached forward and grasped her by the hair, pulling her down to the bed beside her old comrade. Both of them looked up at me through lust-hazed eyes and I smiled as I speared Zatanna's mouth for the second time that night, enjoying the look of slight panic then diligent suckling as she accepted my length. I knew her ass would still burn for my load, but there would be time for that later. I had to get my rock off fucking now, and with two of these bitches in bed below me, I couldn't wait much longer. I guided a weary Selina's head over to my crotch, her mouth sucking like a trained pro on the length of shaft that wasn't buried in Zatanna's throat.

When I finally erupted, Zatanna's eyes once again snapped wide and she gargled as heavy cream began to fill her oral cavity. She swallowed desperately but I pumped more cum into her than she could hope to drink down, and soon streams were leaking from her mouth, Selina licking her face clean with that long, feline tongue. I pulled out and shot wad after wad onto their faces, enjoying their moans and groans of submission as they moved to take as much in their mouths as they could. Then they kissed again around my cockhead, swapping drops of cum mouth-to-mouth. I sat back, satisfied, closing my eyes and savoring the sounds of them slurping on each other, swallowing more of my essence.

When I decided we all had earned enough relaxation, I leaned forward once again and took Selina by the chin. 

"The name, whore," I sneered. "Now, before I visit more torture on you than your pitiful mind can endure."

"Wayne, Master," she replied earnestly, licking a dollop of cum from the corner of her mouth and regarding me at last with the respect I wanted. "Batman is secretly the billionaire, Bruce Wayne."

(INTERLUDE: SELINA) 

Selina awoke from lusty dreams to find herself surrounded by beautiful women. A circle of busty, gorgeous young girls looked down at her, smiling and silent. Selina blinked, licked her lips. The taste brought it all back… She looked around at messy sheets, at the spacious bedroom beyond, down at her own naked body - eyes catching on her hugely augmented breasts - and finally back to the women encircling her.

"How… long was I out?" Her body ached from the thorough treatment she had received at the hands of her young boy-Master the night before. He was nowhere to be seen now, and Zatanna was gone too.

"Good morning, Selina," said a brunette at the front of the group, speaking with an English accent. "I'm Lucy. The Master has sent us here to prepare you. To clean you, and to give you your first customer."

Selina's mind drifted back. The last thing she remembered before passing out was giving up Bruce Wayne's secret identity. She wiped the sleep out of her eyes and sat up. Years ago, before her career as Catwoman, Selina had been a prostitute under a pimp by the name of Ivanko. It was a life she escaped narrowly, but life had a way of circling back. Now, she was again a prostitute. A whore. Perhaps she always had been.

"If you'd come with us," said a blonde, one of a few blondes in the group, extending a hand cheerily. "We'll take care of you, Selina."

"My tits… they really hurt," Selina said, wincing at the dull ache as she stood, looking around for the nightie she had worn earlier. It was nowhere to be found. Oh, well. She stood straight, adjusting to the newfound weight on her front side. Each breast, she guessed, was at least twice as large as it had been before. Her nipples were red and swollen, the flesh heavy and hot. 

"We were all talking about them before, when you were asleep," Lucy said, no slouch herself in the bust department. "We think they're beautiful. The Master has given you a gift that… well, we're all really jealous. The men are gonna love you."

"They're so natural-looking," said another blonde. "I got implants back when I was still modeling, and it always bothered me that they couldn't look 100 percent real."

"You're all… models?" Selina inquired. They all nodded, smiling.

"At least, we were," Lucy said, grinning earnestly. "Until the Master showed us the way."

They left the bedroom, heading down a long hallway to an elevator. Selina was shy of her nakedness and the swaying of her breasts was unfamiliar and painful, but the ache was beginning to die down, at least. And all the women around her were dressed provocatively, in short skirts, booty shorts, tube tops, halters, some just lingerie.

"You must have been rich," Selina said. "I mean, you're all really pretty."

They giggled to each other as a group.

"Thank you," Lucy said. "Some of us were getting pretty famous. But the Master showed us that we were really just whores… I mean, we posed for pictures so that men could look at us all around the world. In magazines, on the web…"

"We were all already trading our sex appeal for money," a redhead piped up. "Lingerie, bikini shots, topless shots…"

"But we weren't really happy," a blonde finished. "Now we just fuck for a living."

"Think of it as cutting out the middle man," Lucy smiled. "The Master gives us a place to live, money, food, nice clothes… He's so good to us."

"He's so good to us," echoed the redhead.

"We love him so much," said the blondes, in unison.

"And we get to fuck all the guys we want… for money!" said Lucy cheerily. 

They had reached the lower level and exited into a large room with a steam bath in the middle. Beautiful, gorgeous women filled the room, bathing, frolicking, reclining, chatting. Some kissing and making love to each other. Selina recognized the room from the day before, when she had been swiftly cleansed while the Master was out, capturing Zatanna. It had been empty then.

"This is the harem bath," Lucy said. "Now let's get you cleaned up. I can't wait to get those big titties of yours all sudsy."

****

Hours later, Selina was directed back upstairs, to a different floor than the penthouse, and led to a suite she was told would be hers from now on. 

"This is you," Lucy chirped, turning on her heels and strutting off. 

"When… when will I see the Master again?" Selina asked.

"Can't say for sure," she replied. "We never know. Whenever he feels like it. We see him less and less nowadays."

A shade of sadness fell on Lucy's pretty face, if only briefly. Then she was smiling again. 

"But we get all the dick we can take in the meantime. I guess you'll just have to imagine it's his. That's what I do! Anyway, your first client will be by any minute now. I better get out of here… if he sees two girls he might get the wrong idea. He only paid for you. Bye!"

Lucy was gone, and Selina took a seat on a plush couch in the main room of the suite. She was dressed in a figure-hugging black minidress that showed off her legs and plunged deep into her cleavage, leaving little to the imagination, complemented with white leather go-go boots and opera gloves. A heavy, diamond studded necklace adorned her neck and rested on the tops of her swollen tits. The pain had subsided somewhat… quite a bit, in fact, once she got her eyes on those diamonds. She had always loved diamonds. They were the only thing as precious, she now assumed, as her Master's cream. But she knew which she loved more. 

There was a brief knock at the door and Selina rose to answer it. But what she saw when she opened the door made her gasp and shudder. It was the hulking frame… of her old pimp. Renald Ivanko. 

He, too, seemed taken aback, but soon cracked into a grin and guffawed once, loudly. She backed away and he entered the room. So… this was her first John.

"There are many women over the years, so you will forgive me," he began. "Cerise?"

"S-selina," she stammered, hand on her heart. Her mind was cast back to the tortures this man had inflicted on her. At her lowest point, he had exploited her weakness for his own profit and sick pleasure. He had forced her into a life she once thought there was no escape from… And what he did to her was tame compared to what she saw him do to other girls. Renald liked knives, liked stabbing… Liked penetration in general.

"Selina," the older man hissed, advancing on her always. "How could I forget. I looked for you, you know. When you disappear. It never occurs to me to look in another whorehouse!"

He laughed again, and it hurt her inside. Feelings of deep shame flooded through her. Once a whore, always a whore. Her life as Catwoman, her battles, the good and bad things she had done… None of it mattered now. It was only an interlude, interrupting her true life. She recognized that now. The life of a hooker, a lowly slut. Her eyes were on the floor, but Ivanko had backed her into a corner and now lifted her chin so he could stare into her. His eyes met hers, then roamed down over her neck, into the magically augmented cleavage.

"I do not remember you being so well-endowed," he said, nodding appreciatively. "Is good. You truly look the part now, Selina."

A single tear escaped her eye and she instantly cursed herself for it. She pushed her bravado to the surface to hide her shame.

"And what have you done with yourself since I left you, Renald? Still peddling cheap pussy to Russian immigrants down in the Narrows?"

"You should know, you are cheap pussy," he smiled, a gold tooth glinting in the room's low light. "But no. I tell men what to do now, not little girls. If you really want to know, I am running for city councilman. Expected to win in… landslide. Life of crime behind me. Well… at least, some kinds of crime."

"So you haven't come here to steal me back." Selina felt a deeper humiliation to know Ivanko had succeeded, advanced to a better life in her absence.

"No," he said flatly, unbuttoning his pants. "Only to fuck you."

His pants dropped, and instantly Selina's eyes fell upon his long, veiny, uncut cock. She remembered it well. And instantly her mouth began to water. So it was true. The boy-Master had given her a love not only for his own magnificent cream… but for all man meat, all shapes and sizes. Even this repulsive fucker. 

One of Renald's meaty, thick hands wrapped around that horse dick, the other on Selina's shoulder, pushing insistently down. Quickly, she surrendered, and knelt before her former pimp. She could not resist, and would not if she could. There was no denying the rising feelings of lust and hunger swirling within her. She wanted this as much as he did. 

"You catch on fast," he smiled down at her, the crooked smile of an old gangster. She could smell his dick from here. "What is American expression? Like riding bike."

Selina knew in that moment that she had no worth, no value besides her identity as a whore. Here she was, forced into kneeling before a man she at once despised and could not resist. Only hours before, she had betrayed the identity of perhaps the only truly good man she had ever known. Her body had been violated, reconditioned, even reshaped into an object of lust… And she had loved every moment. She looked up at Ivanko with wild, cold, blue eyes, bared her teeth, nostrils flaring.

"Gimme that dick, sir."

He chuckled.

"No false respect, please," he said. "You do not have to pretend to be someone you are not."

"I'm not pretending anything," she replied. "I said I want your fucking cock, sir. Now."

Ivanko snarled as he caressed his growing erection, then leaned forward and daubed Selina's forehead with the gooey tip. He peeled back the foreskin before dragging his glans down the length of her nose. He took her by the hair and wiped his cock sideways, onto her cheek, then down the line of her jaw, up to the corner of her mouth. She opened, ready for him, eyes holding his gaze the entire time. She held his gaze still as he denied her, pushing his cock up to plug one nostril, then over to smear her other cheek. As he marked her with sticky pre-cum, she let her head be tilted but kept her eyes on his, acknowledging her willing submission.

By the time he slid his dickhead back up to rest on her forehead, he was fully, triumphantly erect, and his thick length lay along the lines of her face, now glistening with traces of his pre-cum. It would not be as delicious as the Master's. But she would drink him down anyway.

"You want my cock, little Selina?" he chided, stroking her hair. "Then take it!"

(IV) INTRODUCE A LITTLE ANARCHY

After Selina's capitulation, the Agenda began to move very quickly. Through the web of underworld connections I was beginning to develop through my trade, I leaked the identity of Gotham's caped crusader. I would be a fool to take this legend on head-to-head… For the time being, I needed to stay in the shadows, much like him. I was surprised that Wayne's face wasn't plastered across every newspaper in the country immediately… it took almost a week before the repercussions hit. But when they hit… Boy, did they.

I sat watching the news within the entertainment room of my sprawling penthouse. You could certainly call it entertainment. In the early morning that day, explosions had rocked both Wayne Tower in the heart of Gotham and the Wayne Estate on the outskirts. After several hours smoldering, the tower finally collapsed in an apparently planned demolition that took no lives. I surmised it was an automated failsafe, only to cover Wayne's tracks. The billionaire's mansion was still burning. It was not long before news hit that the Joker, the city's most feared villain, had caused the explosions and in the aftermath had apparently murdered both Wayne's butler and all of his young wards, effectively robbing the poor shit of his family for the second time. Batman, "arriving on the scene," had in retaliation, at long last, slain the Joker - breaking his neck - before disappearing. Wayne, the anchor said, was nowhere to be found. It was the darkest day in the city's history. I couldn't have been more lucky.

"Master," came a voice from the adjacent room. I turned away from television for a moment to see Zatanna enter. "I wanna fuck."

I smiled. The last few days of rampant sex had had a serious affect on the former Justice Leaguer. My enslaved magician bitch wore nothing but fishnet stockings and six-inch stiletto pumps, as per my request on the second day of her enslavement. She had taken to the outfit gladly, recognizing and embracing the fetishistic nature of her attire instantly. I noticed her personality had drastically changed as well. She talked filthy now, so obviously turned on by her own debasement that I couldn't resist her. She was completely corrupted, going so far as to provide me with access to all of the Justice League's databases. From my laptop, I could now get access to the League's video monitor footage, along with in-depth profiles of virtually every meta-human, vigilante and super-criminal on the planet. Zatanna had served me well, and now she walked about as in a constant trance, lately the sole recipient of my mind-bending loads. 

My Selina had begun her life as a whore, a prostitute earning money for me. I saw her little now - she was with clients most of the time. I had let her keep the… enhancements Zatanna had bestowed, as she grew rather attached to them quite quickly. It remained to be seen what place in the Agenda she would take later, what value she kept. But for now, she held only the value of a slutslave. 

"You're not even paying attention to the news," I said to Zatanna as she approached and knelt before me, rubbing my thigh with one hand, caressing her own body with the other. My dick began to stiffen in my pants and she moved her hand to squeeze it through the material.

"I don't care… I just need you to fuck me, Master. I wanna suck your fucking cock off, I wanna drink your cum… I long to feel you in my asshole, coating me from the inside out… I need you in my ass, Master, please…"

I raised an eyebrow, amused by her foul language. The effects of my semen… I had yet to see their limit. I was literally shaping Zatanna's personality with my fluids. What was I truly capable of? I supposed the sorceress slave was right. I had neglected to take her anally after that first night, and it had to be driving her crazy. The sensitivity would have died down somewhat, but the deep hunger my cum instills in females… it could literally cause her to lose her mind. I decided a loyal, sane slave was better than a lunatic. 

"Okay… I'll take your ass, Zatanna, but on one condition."

"Fuck, anything, Master!"

"Your magic abilities intrigue me. You are an incredibly formidable woman."

"Any power I possess serves you now, my Lord."

"I know. And I'd like to know how I can use that to the advantage of my plans. What are the limits of your powers? Can you... teach me magic?"

"Short of complete reality rearrangement, my powers are nearly infinite, sir. But I can push chances and do subtle time-space manipulation. As my Master, my psychic bond is very strong with you now. You are not a magical being like I am, but your psychic presence could be extended. Astral projection is a possibility."

Noticing exciting new developments on the 164-inch HD television screen in front of us, I picked up the pace of the conversation.

"I want to do all of the stuff you just said. But we can look into that later. Right now, astral projection sounds intriguing."

"We would need to bond," she breathed excitedly, eyes bright, lined with heavy black mascara. Lips painted bright slut red, tongue rimming them."We must become one… The psychic process is extremely intimate."

"Mount up, whore," I replied, opening my pants and beginning an insistent tugging on my hardening cock. She complied, rising and sitting on my lap slowly. She kept an eye over her shoulder, watching me grow to erection with unspeakable hunger. I guided my dick towards her, planting a hand firmly on one round ass-cheek, spreading her. Her tiny asshole winked at me and I drew her in, prodding into her tight, dry channel. She hissed and I steadied her, pushing her down oh so slowly. Lubricating juices squirted from the end of my prick, aiding the process. Zatanna's teeth were chattering, her whole body shaking in pleasure as I took her at last where she yearned for most. She uttered a deep, guttural moan that became a word, but it was an incantation I did not understand. In the next instant, it was as if we were suddenly floating above the proceedings, watching me ream her out anally. The experience did not diminish the pleasure - if anything, I felt a sharper satisfaction. 

"Look at the TV. Take me to where they're filming," I demanded, finally wedged as deep as I could go in her rectum. She squeezed around me and I pulsed more pre-cum, causing Zatanna to shudder repeatedly. The astral plane truly was an intimate place. Instantly, as I lifted her and started a short, steady thrusting, she obeyed, and we blinked through reality to arrive at Ground Zero of the Wayne Tower collapse. 

As rescue workers and firefighters worked to put out the blaze, television journalist Vicki Vale reported live from the scene. Batman and Bruce Wayne were still nowhere to be found, but Vale revealed there were still breaking developments. In a masterstroke, the Joker's last laugh had been a series of explosions that rocked Arkham, freeing all the inmates the Bat had worked to put away. And in a final move, Joker had also provided evidence of the Dark Knight's true identity. Vale looked uneasy but undeniably beautiful as she reported the news. She had been romantically linked with Wayne in the past - I wondered what she knew. As she stammered out the developments, I saw her eyes fill with tears and even after she cut the video feed, Zatanna and I stayed so I could watch her weep. Just a civilian, caught up in all this. I realized that I had been ultimately responsible for deaths - the butler and all the Robins. And the Joker too, but he was the monster who had murdered them. Was I any different from him? Was I worse? I hadn't expected so much death, so quickly… But the lust I felt outmatched any regret by a boatful.

The curvaceous sorceress before me was moaning between deep, whooping breaths, taken to the limit as I took my conflicted feelings out on her. She was well-lubed now and stretching nicely around my shaft. I bounced her on my dick, satisfied, reaching around to jostle her tits. She screamed for me and I felt, through our growing mental link, the complete abandonment and joy I would expect from one of my love slaves. As we watched the future of Gotham unfold, I was pulling her hair, biting her neck, her shoulders… Totally immersed in the sexual nirvana we shared and the other-worldly sensation of the astral plane. I felt I could see everything at once, but still it was not enough. With Zatanna's soul blasted into oblivion by my will, she had become the most powerful and devoted slave I had ever taken - a weapon to wield. It was as if I had hollowed her out, only to be filled by my terrible desires. I knew, of course, that she would not satisfy me for long. I could take her day in and day out, pump more and more of my cum into her until she was totally brain-fucked, but I would always want more.

"Don't stop," she panted. "Don't fucking stop!"

My schemes were already in motion - in the hours I wasn't with my magician slut, I was devising new ways to degrade and subvert the heroines that walked and flew on this earth. The disappearance and public exposure of the Batman was an unmitigated success - Joker had not failed to amaze me - but I needed to seize the opportunity I had opened for myself soon. I had to fill the power vacuum as anarchy descended on this city. Power meant money. I wondered what would become of Wayne Enterprises… in the same thought I wondered just how far I could push Zatanna's "reality rearrangement." I squeezed in and out of her asshole, cock pistoning between the pillowy scoops of assflesh, and she gyrated above me, losing control of her mind and body. The astral projections around us began to flicker and I grabbed her mane of hair, yanking savagely.

"Focus," I said through my teeth. "Focus on the feeling, Zatanna. Let it feed you… Let it make you stronger… Take me in all the way. All the way…"

"God fuck yes!" she whimpered. "Oh Master! Ugh shit! I can see… I can see everything Master… Let me show you…"

We jumped away from Ground Zero, flashing through space until I found myself in unfamiliar surroundings. The rush of pure energy that came with Zatanna's exertions was intensely pleasurable, and I found difficulty restraining myself as my balls threatened to empty their load into this slut. My scrotum tightened, veins pulsing madly down my rod, and I slowed the tempo of our fucking. I was breathing heavily… Was I really breathing on the astral plane? It didn't matter. As the room around us came into focus, I realized where we had traveled. We were unmistakably in the dark, gothic halls of Arkham Asylum. And it was chaos. 

As guards and doctors fled in panic, inmates revolted amidst the chaos in the aftermath of the explosions. Through my link with Zatanna, I could see the logic of it all, the structure of events. We passed over the whole scene and came to a secluded room toward the back of the facility, a loading bay filled with goons and thugs. At least two dozen men, armed by this point with riot gear they had confiscated from the departed security staff. They were waiting patiently near a parked police van, ready to escape but missing one from their party. I didn't have to wait long to see who it was. I recognized her from the files Zatanna had supplied me with, but she did not look... herself. Usually bouncy and full of pep, she walked somberly now, head down. Amidst the anarchy of the moment, she of all people was subdued.

Even draped with a baggy asylum uniform, the curves of Harleen Quinzel's tight, athletic body were impossible to miss. She was a trained gymnast, possessed of a small but graceful and exuberant form. Her blonde hair was done up in pigtails, and as I appreciated the beauty of her face - big blue eyes, cute button nose, pouting mouth - I began to resume solid thrusts into my slave, shaking her body repeatedly. I felt arousal, interest in the body of the Joker's former number two, aka Harley Quinn, but remembered that she was incredibly dangerous. She would perhaps be hit hardest by the events of the last 24 hours. Her sad devotion to the psychopathic Joker left her devastated - her nose was red and swollen, and she had obviously been crying. I noticed something amiss as she approached the crowd of men. They did not part for her.

"Let's get outta here," she said glumly, but they did not move. "Hey, what are you bozos waiting for?"

"We actually had other plans," said the henchman closest to her. "See, me an' the guys figger… if the Joker's really dead… We ain't really got no one to be loyal to no more. Why not go work for someone else?"

"You wanna ditch? Go ahead, scram! But don't come crying to me when you can't find decent work!"

"We actually sorta kinda already found a new boss," he said.

"What? Who?"

"Doesn't matter. All that matters is our orders."

With that, the burly goon savagely swung his club at Harley's head. She dodged him easily and fought back, taking down several of the tough guys before the combination of body armor, riot shields, and billy clubs overtook her. Quinzel was beaten to the floor, subdued and surrounded. Hands reached out and snatched her wrists, then ankles, then arms and legs. I couldn't believe my eyes as I watched her clothes swiftly ripped away, leaving her taut, toned body clad only in brief white panties and socks in moments. It was as if my own lusts had manifested in this group, but that was impossible. Where were their orders coming from? Who had hired them so quickly, then ordered them… to rape Harley Quinn? I clearly had competition somewhere. This was an alarming development that would have to be dealt with. For now, I let my eyes roam over her perfect, near-naked body. Just as I had imagined… thin waist, flaring hips and athletic, muscular legs, a washboard stomach and small but perky tits… Jutting pink nipples were quickly taken in hand as the group of men insulted and spit on her writhing body. Harley could only scream in protest.

Still embedded firmly in Zatanna's asshole, I reached around to tease her clit, causing her to spasm under my touch and cry out. Again our surroundings flickered, and I commanded her once again to focus.

"Feel me inside you, slut," I whispered. "Do you want my cum?"

"So fucking bad!" was all she could shout in response. 

I upped the tempo once again, taking her tight ass with long, deep strokes. Below us, Quinzel screamed as her cotton underwear were torn apart, baring her blonde-furred cunt to the cheering approval of the group. She kicked and struggled, but was outnumbered too greatly. I enjoyed the look of rage and horror on her face. Helpless. One of the thugs found his way inside her in no time flat, causing her to squeal as her horrible day turned so much worse. To think - the Joker's presence was all that had kept this from occurring. In a way, even if I wasn't directly manipulating this group, I was responsible for the rape taking place this very instant. That thought took me dangerously close to the precipice of orgasm as I watched her gymnast's body rocked by the thrusts of one of her former henchmen.

"Fuck her," I murmured absently as we watched the rape taking place.

"Yesssss, fuck her," Zatanna echoed. "So good… Use her body… Master, please - give me your cum!"

Zatanna's face was stained with streaks of mascara, tears of joy from earlier and shock as she watched the infamous Harley Quinn divvied up among a group of henchmen. They couldn't get near her snarling and biting mouth, but one of them held her by the pigtails and she was slapped around the face until her resistance ebbed. The look in her eyes now was one of defeat and despair. As Zatanna could sense her abandonment and loss, I too could detect the pain in this woman's mind. It was a brutal rape, but I felt my magician siphoning her own pleasure into the criminal-turned-victim below us. Harley's pert titties were squeezed roughly, hands roaming over her flat stomach and athletic curves. I reached around once again to palm Zatanna's own prodigious mounds, rolling her rock-hard nipples between my fingers as she rode me. My slave and I bucked together, approaching a sexual zenith I no longer cared to avoid. I could feel us both feeding off this raw, violent, sexual experience I had indirectly brought about. It was as if this brutal rape was a wellspring, providing me with replenishment. Energetically, I slammed into her ass one final, triumphant time. 

As Harley's rapist began to develop a steady rhythm, I moaned and shot my load into Zatanna's rectum. The sensation it gave her overwhelmed her and tore us away from the astral plane. The slight disappointment that I would not get to see the rest of the clown bitch's gang-rape dissipated as I filled this flailing former super heroine with my mind-altering jism, sating her intense anal hunger at last. I slapped her broad ass again and again until it was bright red, spurting madly into her bowels, both of us slipping off the chair in my TV room. I held her head down on the floor and sank deeper into her, cum squirting copiously out of her asshole as I filled her. I ripped the tops of her stockings apart in a fury, wanting in that moment to cum even harder, even deeper. The domination of this bitch was no longer enough to satisfy me. I would need to move on to newer targets, but Zatanna's talents presented a huge opportunity. Our minds melded and I felt the profoundness of her submission briefly, before we both passed out from the exertion.

Meanwhile, somewhere deep in Arkham Asylum, Harleen Quinzel continued to have the worst day of her life.

(V) THE LADY IS A TRAMP

My plans had, in a matter of days, turned Gotham City upside down. The city became a very dark place, gangs now roving the streets at all hours, super-criminals re-establishing their bases. Crime skyrocketed, but even with Batman and his disciples gone, the city was far from bereft of a crime-fighting presence. Though they had to have been severely demoralized, individual vigilantes and teams like the Birds of Prey were doing a lot, taking on the burden once carried by the Bat-family. My arousal heightened as I scanned images of the Birds - a team composed entirely of lovely female crime-fighters. Black Canary, Katana, and a wild card named Starling with little information in the Justice League databanks. Even the former villain Poison Ivy had joined their ranks recently. I yearned to reach out and take all of these women, addict them, enslave them. But their numbers and experience gave them strength. Heroes had been targeting known super-crooks with a vengeance since the Arkham breakout - it seemed that without the Bat's oversight, the vigilante element in the city now condoned lethal force. Villain obituaries lined the papers daily. If I wasn't careful, if I didn't stick to the shadows, I would end up among them.

I hired a mercenary group to handle some of the more direct confrontations my Agenda would now require. All indirectly, through back channels, of course - I had to avoid any sort of traceable paper trail. The head mercenary was a professional assassin with the reputation for being the most dangerous woman in the world - Lady Shiva, known to a select few people as Sandra Wu-San. I had been somewhat hesitant in hiring her, not only because she was a moral question mark but also because of the plain threat she represented. Ultimately, I had decided the risk was worth hiring her, as long as I kept my true motivations under the table. Her enslavement was not instrumental to my plans, but if I decided at some point that I desired her, no amount of risk would dissuade me. 

Shiva's first mission was to bring me the vigilante known as the Huntress. There had been no chance of recovering Harley, but I wanted to snatch up this do-gooding loner before she found a team to latch on to. The Huntress was an often-overlooked heroine. She didn't gather too much press attention, rarely took the spotlight, but she was one of the most enthusiastic crime fighters in the city, a woman who devoted her life to a vendetta against the mob's influence. She was extremely dangerous as well… her devotion to the no-killing code had always been suspect, but anymore it was meaningless. All this, her personality, her history, was secondary now to the lust I felt for her. Helena Bertinelli had a fantastic body - thick in all the right places, voluptuous and energetic.

At least, that's what I could see in her file. Because as it turns out, Shiva and her group of well-renowned mercs were unable to bring Bertinelli before me. The vigilante had disappeared without a trace in the last few days, and not even Shiva's considerable resources could make her materialize. So, earlier than I expected, I requested a meeting with Shiva, alone, in my quarters. I had had plans for the Huntress, but any ripe body would do. 

I could appreciate the beauty of Shiva's sharp Asian features as she entered my office, but more than that, behind her undeniable attractiveness, was her demeanor. She walked with supreme confidence, clad in an opulent crimson and gold silk kimono that hugged her curves, and she cast glances around the room that showed she was less than impressed with my own conspicuous wealth. She moved in a different class, and she did nothing to hide this fact from me. I was becoming accustomed to seeing this bearing in the women I was now targeting - that arrogance it was my destiny to crush into subservience. When Shiva's heavy-lidded eyes finally settled on me, it was as if I could see the gears in her brain working. It was our first meeting, the first time she had been privy to information so personal as my age or location. I was a child in her eyes, a nouveau-riche pest not worth her time. Her embarrassment in failure would mean less to her now as she came to consider my own seemingly petty nature. How I would teach her otherwise.

She sat before me, legs folded neatly, and began the conversation after brief introductions were made.

"You've received my communique, so you know the status of the contract," she said, curt and businesslike.

"Yes, you failed utterly to complete the task I paid you for," I said smugly. She grimaced, barely avoided rolling her eyes.

"We are operating under extreme circumstances. Your city is near death - any semblance of order is gone from Gotham. Traditional channels of information have collapsed, and there has been not even a sighting of codename 'Huntress' in days. Vigilantes and criminals alike are disappearing at a quite alarming rate… as I'm sure you're keenly aware. The nature of your request was not lost on me, boy. I can't say I'm disappointed not to play a larger plot in your little schemes."

So confrontational… She must have noticed my eyes running over her slender body, admiring its athletic curves. Eyes on her eyes, then the dark brown bun of hair atop her head, then down to her small, plump maroon lips. There was little need to hide my intentions at this point. 

"There will be no refund of the amount you've already paid for the services of myself and my colleagues," she snarled before I could even pose another question. "And I've decided to terminate our contract effective immediately, regardless of your wishes."

"Oh, that's fine," I shrugged, enjoying the momentary loss of composure, the look of surprise on her grim face. "I'm not interested in Helena Bertinelli right now anyway. I've moved on to more… easily obtainable goals."

Shiva's quizzical look was replaced with shock, and then a growing anger, as she realized she could not move her arms or legs. She stayed rooted in her seat as if buried to her neck in invisible cement as Zatanna entered the room from behind her, joining me behind my desk. 

"What… what…" Shiva was stammering, still struggling to move her magically petrified body to no avail, her face flushing in anger. She was even more beautiful when angry.  

"This is Zatanna Zatara," I smiled.

"I know who she is, boy," Shiva spat. "I am not a fool. What have you done here? What game are you playing, child? I demand you tell me. Now!"

"It's hardly a game, and you're hardly in the place to be making demands, bitch," I said, standing and walking around the desk to stand tantalizingly close to the frozen, frustrated assassin. She knew a hundred ways to kill me from this distance, but her body would simply not respond. I watched her features contort with discomfort, rage, and a growing desperation. 

"It's quite simple," I continued. "Zatanna here is now my slave, forever bound to me, addicted to the pleasures I can give her. She is a slut, a fucktoy, a willing servant… but above all, she is mine. And soon, you will be mine as well."

Shiva was silent, glowering at the both of us. She knew what was coming, even if she couldn't believe it. Moments ago I had presented no threat whatsoever to her, but she was likely very familiar with Zatanna and her power level. If she had fallen so easily, Shiva stood no chance. Zatanna and I exchanged excited grins. 

"Dozens of my agents are in the lobby of this building," she threatened. "Ready to-"

"Dead already," Zatanna replied quickly, licking her lips. "Why do you think I was late?"

Disbelief, then dawning realization spread over our victim's face. She glanced back and forth between us nervously in the awkward silence.

"I suppose Bertinelli was to be your next conquest," she finally said in a low voice. "But now you've chosen me instead."

"Quite right. You catch on fast."

"There's a fatal flaw in your little scheme, you pathetic cretin," she sneered. "I'll never fall. I'll never be a slave. Not for anyone. And certainly not for you!"

Her defiance spurred something inside me, and I felt the constricting feeling of my prick growing in my pants. Her debasement was at hand… the moment that I would end the life she had known and set her on a new path of servitude and sexual slavery. I snapped my fingers, and Zatanna raised her hands, casting a spell onto Shiva's tight body. Instantly, the assassin bitch began letting out bloodcurdling screams as her chest swelled, just as I had seen Selina's swell a week before. The material of Shiva's kimono stretched around her obscenely expanding bust, then split loudly at the seams. Magically augmented tits spilled forth into the open air and all the eyes on the room were on them, Shiva emitting a continuous shriek as she saw her body being distorted for my own pleasure. Her relatively small bosom had grown astronomically but retained its firmness - I could tell as I placed a single hand on her right breast and squeezed gently. 

Shiva spewed curses at me as I molested her helpless form. This seduction was unlike any I had ever performed in my life up to that point… my own use of my powers would be minimal. Instead, I would rely on Zatanna's magical prowess to destroy the woman who had been Lady Shiva and rebuild her from scratch, in the image of a whore. 

"No! Nnnnoooooaaaaaaaaa!" Shiva cried, body racked with incredible pain the likes of which I hoped never to experience. I toyed with her exposed titties amusedly, watching them jiggle, inviting Zatanna down to nip and lick the warm, smooth flesh. 

"Bastaaaaaard! Nooooooooooooooo!" she howled, but there was defeat in her voice now, not protest. She could not move, not fight, not anymore. How quickly I had stolen the dignity she held just minutes before. I didn't need to pump my cream into her, addict her like every other woman I ever desired… I wanted to get more creative. 

"Get ready," I instructed Zatanna, who walked behind the blubbering and moaning Shiva and placed her hands on the assassin's temples. I pinched Shiva's small, pink nipples, mashing her breasts together before dipping to bury my face in her cleavage. The skin was hot, sensitive, and she wailed below me. We had given her the proportions of a whore… now all that remained was the mind inside. Shiva became calm even as my manipulation of her titmeat became more intense. She was entering a trancelike state, her pain and consummate humiliation fading gently under Zatanna's touch. 

"I can see her mind," my witch murmured, face scrunched in concentration even as Shiva's jaw slackened and her eyes closed. I started ripping the rest of the mercenary's kimono apart, enjoying the definition of her outstanding musculature in contrast with the sheer fantasy size of her melons. They retained a natural look and feel, unlike the many implants I had seen and felt in my day. Truly incredible. I slavered over her, licking each breast sloppily, knowing as the chemicals in my saliva seeped into her skin, her eventual defeat would be spelled out. As Shiva's mind quieted, her body responded to my ministrations, nipples hardening and rising under my touch. I tore the dress asunder until only rags hung from her body… she wore no underwear, and my arousal as I saw this demanded that I open my pants and allow my pulsing erection the freedom it deserved. My glans was drooling already, so I smeared the slimy dickhead across the tops of her titanic mammaries then reached down to unfold her limp legs, baring a neatly trimmed pussy to me. 

"I think a good seventy-five points off her IQ would be safe," I said casually to Zatanna, rubbing Shiva's labia with two fingers. "To start."

"Mm-hm," the sorceress nodded.

"You can reshape her personality… make her a different person…?"

"Yesssss, Masterrrr…"

"Then fuck it, if it's that simple… Make her a whore. The perfect whore. Her love for cock…" --I fought the temptation to enter her then and there-- "…total. Everything else, wipe away. Combat training, knowledge of history, old friends and colleagues… She only needs the qualities that would make her the ultimate slut."

"Yessss…"

I was cupping Shiva's cheek in my hand, adoring the vacant look as her life was taken away. Suddenly, I felt my psychic bond with Zatanna swell and strengthen, and I… it was a feeling unlike any other. I could actually feel it as she did my bidding, sense Shiva's psyche disappear like so much dust in the wind, replaced by something much darker, much more primal. 

"Even her memories of me… I want them gone. She will bond to me by instinct. I want her reborn under my cock."

I thrilled as I communicated this message to Zatanna, harder now than I'd ever been, the prospect of so easily remolding a human being to suit my insane lusts… I felt high. My dark witch's hands left Shiva's temples and the woman below me slowly opened her eyes. Her intense pain would be dulled, I didn't wish her to suffer any more. The time for that was over. Only pleasure awaited us now. I stood before her, and could only envision her thoughts as she awoke, a new woman, looking up to see me, growling through my teeth, fist wrapped around my furious, drooling erection. Her eyes were hazy, then cleared and she regarded me with some surprise.

"Oh my," she said pleasantly. "What's this?"

For her, it must have been like a baby bird seeing its mother for the first time.  A young kid, grasping in his hand her favorite thing in the world. Perhaps not her ideal scenario, but she would accept it and soon bond to it.

"For me?" she pouted. "Mmmmm, don't mind if I do…"

I collected pre-coital juices from the end of my cock and pushed two fingers into her yielding mouth, swirling them around until she began to suck hungrily. 

"Mmmm," she hummed, licking my fingers sloppily. "Tasty."

I smiled, breathing hard, heart pounding with lust. She looked up at me as her tongue slid up and down and between my fingers. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I said. "Slave."

Her eyebrows arched, something inside her reacting strongly to that word. Her devotion to my sex was limited by some inherent moral code. No matter.

I took the new Lady Shiva by the hand and lifted her out of the chair, bending her over my desk and tossing aside the last shredded strips of her long kimono. Wearing only a pair of high heels, new tits squashed beneath her on the desk, Shiva looked back and spread her legs instinctively.

"Fucky fucky," she said cheerfully, any doubt disappearing as she let herself be taken. Childlike wonder filled her eyes. I reflected on the swift and total change to her persona. In a way no other woman had ever been, this beautiful creature was truly mine. Of my own making, body and soul.

I steadied myself on her hip and guided my penis into her with no resistance. I let out a long moan and Shiva echoed with her own. I pulled Zatanna to my side, looking into her eyes with generosity as I took a new slave. My hand was at the top of her PVC catsuit, fingers slipping inside, yanking down to reveal her own perfect rack. She smiled knowingly as I pawed her. In a short span of time, I had corrupted this former heroine into quite the dark angel. She was my greatest accomplishment yet, I knew it, even as I thrust determinedly into Shiva's cunt. 

"Make her tighter," I growled at Zatanna, and a dark look of excitement fell on her features. Eyes glinting, she took my hand away from her breasts and held it on Shiva's ass. She smiled widely as a warm glow of magic emanated from her palm, through mine, and I felt my new slut's pussy walls contracting ever so slightly around my pumping shaft. I bared my teeth and pressed harder, feeling her tighten more distinctly, almost unnaturally. I was fucking her with deep, brutal strokes, rocking the desk, Shiva calling out in pleasure as her super-sensitized vagina exploded with simultaneous pain-pleasure that rocketed her past orgasm swiftly. Knowing she was mine, I blasted into her, letting out a grunted "Fuck" as I filled that tight, tight pussy to overflowing in record time. Cream ran down her thighs as I pulled out and sprayed over her taut, firm ass, holding out my hand to collect a few lines which I then fed to Zatanna. She moaned appreciatively as Shiva gasped for breath in the throes of another orgasm, flopping on the desk below me. Tomorrow she would begin hooking for me, and she would never look back.

(VI) BATWOMAN FALLEN

The swift taking of Lady Shiva left me feeling conflicted. In one stroke, I had demonstrated the true power now open to me - complete mental and physical manipulation through the magic arts of my dark sorceress Zatanna. But Shiva, like Catwoman, was no hero, no moral titan to be squashed. She had already been willing to serve me for a large amount of money - now she would simply serve me in a different way, and any money she earned would go to me. At the same time, I felt frustration. Yes, Zatanna's abilities opened new channels to me… but I had become accustomed to breaking these sluts with nothing other than my own seed, my own chemical pheromone powers. How I yearned to take a superheroine as I had taken Shiva, to bend her over and break her with nothing but the genetic strength of my own fluids… to crush her resistance with the pleasures I could give. Shiva had been far too easy. I wanted more.

Events were transpiring much faster than I could have ever expected at the outset of this campaign. In under a month, I had proven to myself that the self-appointed protectors and vigilantes of the world were nowhere near as untouchable as they claimed. My mind drifted forward, imagining what consequences my actions could reap. Already, the collapse of Batman's organization was turning Gotham into a police state - martial law made vigilante justice an outdated term. The streets were patrolled by the National Guard, most of the villains were dead or gone, and the heroes operated at their own risk. At the same time, however, there were rumors that the Birds of Prey had gone off the grid as well. Someone out there was doing my job, and they were beating me at it.

I was in the midst of amassing a power base that would give me the ability to leave this city behind and start fresh. Gotham was nearly dried up, devoid of any more opportunities, but this unseen challenger represented a serious problem. Harley Quinn, the Huntress, and now as many as three more of Gotham's sirens? Whoever was arranging their disappearances and had ordered the brutal rape of Harleen Quinzell clearly did not want to be seen. But… I had some suspicions. There were rumors of another underground prostitution syndicate operating in the city, growing in popularity. I didn't know my competitors' names, but I knew that vice was consolidating across the city, just like the heroes. Drugs, gambling, pornography, the flesh trade… all gradually coming together under one roof. I wasn't looking to arouse any legal trouble, so I wasn't dabbling in the harder crimes. But clearly someone with much more influence and knowledge of the city had the same idea as me. 

Though I hungered for more ripe flesh, I knew my best chances for the moment were to explore my magician's many diverse talents. For years I had relied on nothing but my own biological gifts to subvert and enslave whatever woman I wanted. Now, there were new channels open to me, and they interested me a great deal. More than that, I wanted to push these women further. I knew they would not fall easy - I would have to get brutal soon, even more so than with the assassin, Shiva. Zatanna was more than willing to help - she had grown used to a daily supply of the cream she worshipped. And as she arrived in my room after a day of being pampered and made up by my finest whores, the physical effect it had on her was visible.

Zatanna was dressed to impress, never failing to arouse me with her sheer slutty appearance. She wore ragged fishnets on her arms down to her wrists, and on her legs down to her pumps, complemented by a single-piece black PVC minidress that pushed her tits high on her chest and barely covered her pussy. Her hair was full, face painted with heavy goth makeup, dark mascara, black lipstick, white cheeks. Her appearance was darkening daily as she became the witch I wished her to be. When she truly had no more reservations… when her subservience to me matched my own insane lusts… on that day, she would truly become my greatest instrument. Who knew what potential she truly held? I was about to take another step toward finding that out. 

"You know what I desire, slut," I told her. "I want power."

"Yesss, my Master," she nodded, bowing her head as she stood before me. "What would you ask of me?"

"Sit," I replied, shedding my pants swiftly and motioning for her to mount me. She hurriedly did just that, planting her full ass directly on my lap. I peeled the PVC dress up and began rubbing the head of my dick up and down her ass crack. She hummed and twisted her hips pleasurably. She had learned how to tease me, our link growing ever stronger. Our connection was both mental and physical by this point - as I prodded my dick deep between her cheeks, her mind would be drawn, as mine was, back to our first encounter on the astral plane. We would be forever bonded in that regard. Forcing my way into her willing anus was like putting a plug in a socket - electric feelings flowed through us both and she hissed at the slow intrusion. 

"Oogghhh, the things you do to me, Master," she moaned, grinding down until my cock was deep inside. "Drive me fucking crazy… How may I… unh… best serve you?"

"Power means wealth… If I'm going to succeed, I need money… Luckily, I know of a sizable sum I can get my… hands on…"

As I said this I reached around Zatanna's curvaceous body, yanking the black dress down, letting her tits bounce out into my grasp. 

"Wayne," she breathed, and I pinched her nipples in reward as she anticipated my next move.

"Yessss," I said, letting her ride me so slowly. "The Wayne fortune… has no heir now. With the billionaire playboy missing and no manager for his estate, it will pass to a number of different charities, as per his request. What I want you to do, my sweet slut… is to redirect that money into my accounts without anyone ever noticing."

She quaked above me as pure droplets of my pre-cum oozed into her rectal muscles. The revelation of my plan excited her deeply, even as my fluids sensitized her insides to an incredible degree.

"But… but Master," she squeaked. "That would take… an incredible amount of energy… I can't… Oh shit, right there… I don't know if I have the power…"

"I anticipated that," I grunted, sweating now. Zatanna's body fit mine like a glove, and I was having trouble withholding my cum for the time being. But this plot required great restraint. Everything had to be perfect. I gave her my instructions… just as on the day of the Arkham breakout, we would be observing from the astral plane. A vicious plot I had set in motion was about to reach fruition, and I expected it would give my sorceress concubine the boost she needed. 

As we soared above Gotham, enjoying each other's every movement, we looked down to see just what the streets had become. My fuckslave and I came upon a virtual army of assorted thugs, the personified criminal element of the city. Collected in a single alley, shoulder-to-shoulder, surrounding a lone woman, jostling to get at her. She called herself Batwoman. By now, she had been pursued for days - thanks to me, there was a huge price on her head in the Gotham underworld. Even after days of pitched battles with the mercenaries and criminals that sought her bounty, she still fought fiercely… but she was tiring. Her red and black outfit was torn heavily, exposing lengths of pale skin. Kate Kane was a fierce crimefighter, but possessed of a porcelain fragility I could see clearly. She would break as easily as any woman… all it took was a little push.

Zatanna uttered one long, staccato grunt as I continued to take her roughly. Below us, all around us, the crowd surged until the vigilante was packed too tightly and the strain was too great. The weight of the crowd forced her down to the ground at last, and by the time the space around her was cleared, she was pinned hopelessly. She screamed in defiance, like a wild animal, as she was circled by thugs with lengths of heavy chain, broken bottles, knives, clubs. In the course of the fight, she had dealt mortal, even fatal blows to some of their comrades. They were not happy.

"Bring it on!" she yelled, thrashing but failing to escape her captors' grips. "Bring it the fuck on!"

Zatanna whined on the end of my prick - she had taken about all she could stand. "Feed your feelings to them," I commanded her, taking her by the hair. I knew Zatanna had significant empathic and telepathic abilities - now was the time to utilize them. 

Instantly, she did her best to comply, and I felt a wave of energy blow through me as the sorceress' arcane skills transferred her lusts into countless bodies. Suddenly, the crowd circling Batwoman's stricken form was behaving quite differently. Zatanna squeezed her ass around my cock, slamming down on me, yearning for deeper penetration, desperately riding the peak of her pleasure. But she would not orgasm… I would not allow it. That heat and sexual frustration would be channeled into a hundred minds, and brought to bear on a single body. Still, Zatanna rocked on my lap, shaft impaling her, her climax so near, yet so far. My testicles swelled with mind-bending jism… I ran the risk of drowning my sweet cumslut when this was all over. 

"Now, focus," I intoned, forcing Zatanna to watch as Kate's skintight outfit was stripped from her struggling body, dozens of fuck-hungry goons surrounding her. Their minds were subdued, bodies animated only through the sheer expression of Zatanna's mystic talents and lusts. There was the sound of fabric tearing as the material of her costume came apart in their hands. Her mask and red wig were torn off and tossed aside. The men saw hard, real fear in her shimmering eyes. Globular tits spilled out into the biting night air, pink nipples hardening. Kate, after all, had been just as affected by the energy emanating from Zatanna, maybe more so. 

I knew that Kate was an aristocrat, and that being raped in the gutter was a fitting degradation. But even more interesting was a fact I had come upon in my research: she was a lesbian, uninterested in men, a woman with a healthy and active sex drive who just swung the other way. This presented no real obstacle - I had lost count of the lesbians I had turned with my powers. They were prey like any other woman. But now, Kate Kane was about to be treated to the most humiliating and horrifying experience she could imagine. She cried for help, despairing in defeat as her own body betrayed her in this crucial moment. Bested in physical combat and now reduced to a level that shamed her deeply. Her red-furred pussy exposed, fabric torn away from her taut ass. Thick thighs spread even as she saw blue jeans and cargo pants opening all around her and erect cocks popping into view. This was a nightmare for every female vigilante… now she was living it. 

"Oh, you're gonna get it, you dirty bitch," Zatanna murmured, lost to the sensation. I knew that she now could feed off the pure magical energy she had instilled in each mind below her, its intensity amplified by the grim reality of the coming gang-bang. "Gonna fill all your holes up…"

I was groaning aloud now, not allowing myself to unleash the rapture this slut and I both yearned for. I spanked Zatanna hard, eliciting a cry. I repeated the process, enjoying this bond my magic whore and I shared now. Meanwhile, Kate Kane whooped in disbelief as her rape began in earnest, a triumphant cock spearing her deeply, unceremoniously. There was something resembling a cheer from the crowd, and the men pushed forward, circling around the scene in a cold organization that foretold a difficult next few hours for Kate. They insulted her, taunted her, spit on her face and naked body… 

Hands sank into her straight, red hair and guided her lips toward another moist, pulsing rod. The magically transferred lusts would have their effect here, now, hitting the debauched Batwoman like a fist in the gut. Her mouth opened as if programmed to do so, and she accepted inch after inch of cockmeat between glossy, red lips even as tears leaked from her eyes.

"Yessss, take it, slut," my mystic said, and I massaged her assflesh, stabbing her with brutal, angry strokes now in an attempt to get my nut. So tight… She wheezed and panted as magical energy surged through her. The lusts she had poured into the men were being repaid in full - the erotic tableau before us was practically glowing with dark magical energy. She was a conduit, but now the lusts were pouring back through her body and blasting into me. As Batwoman's body was swiftly pierced by a third cock jamming into her own resistant asshole, the power intensified. I did not truly understand the rules of this magic, but Zatanna seemed to, and that was all that mattered. She drank in the energy until there was nothing left, and I felt… I could only describe it as my own soul darkening, my mind consumed as never before with the lusts I lived for, the unholy acts of rape and degradation I wished to visit on Zatanna, Kate, and every woman like them. With clarity I saw the framework of my schemes, how savagely I was ending a sacred order. They could never have seen this coming, the heroes. How could they? I thought of my parents, gone now for years. How could they be proud of me? The things I was doing were undeniably evil, but they had always told me to take what I wanted. Fight for my dreams. It was perhaps the only lesson they successfully imparted. Well, now I could take whatever… whomever… I wished.

I came hard, blacking out momentarily from the sensory overload as Zatanna exploded in orgasmic delight. Her cunt drooling down over my thighs as she twisted in orgasm was the last thing I felt.

When I awoke, we were back in my room, Zatanna wailing crazily as she continued to bounce on my still-hard cock. Cum flowed out of her asshole and I collected it on my fingers, then pulled her head back and fed it into her mouth. Finally, she slowed and stopped, placated. She detached and knelt to suck me dry. Only when she finished did she look up, cum and spit bubbling over her lips and down her chin.

"Sweet fucking Christ," she moaned. "Oh, Master… I've never felt anything… like that!"

"Have you done as I requested, my slave? Is the money mine?"

"Not yet, Master… Just give me a moment to catch my… my breath… I have the power now to do as you command. Shit, so much power…"

"Your lusts give you strength, witch. Think how much more power we can have, together."

"Yessss… So fucking good..."

"Now go clean yourself up and work on getting me Wayne's fortune. Kane will be brought here soon for her final treatment, and I want to be a significantly richer man by then."

"Yes, Master…"

****

But, in fact, Batwoman never arrived. After hours of waiting, I realized her mercenary captors might have been delayed by more than just their enjoyment of her body. I called my witch-slave back to me and together we surveyed the scene of the rape royale. Aside from some tattered garments and a red wig, there was no sign that any of them had ever been there. I was enraged at this turn of events. Had I been double-crossed by these goons, or by their mercenary leader? Or had something else gone amiss? Again, I felt the creeping feeling that there were players in this scheme I did not yet know. Enemies conspiring against me in secret. First, the disappearance of Harley Quinn, then the Huntress, now Batwoman… Someone was watching these bitches very closely and striking decisively to take them out of the picture. 

This was not a factor I'd anticipated in the Agenda, but I would handle it with extreme prejudice. Already, a plan was taking shape inside my head. I would need a trap to draw out my obscured enemy. Little did I know that my enemy would do all the work for me...

 (VII) POISON PROMISE

One morning later there was an email in my inbox that caught my eye. The subject heading was "BUSINESS," which surprised me since I kept my personal emails separate from work. The whores who ran my escort service had subordinates to handle emails. This showed immediately that whoever was behind this knew more than I was comfortable with. The message was brief and honest, almost cavalier: 

Re: BUSINESS

Hello,

It's come to my attention that I have something of a competitor in Gotham. It seems in the absence of the Bat, great minds think alike. I don't see why our relationship has to be one of competition, however. I know we could tackle more ground together, united. There are some very fine pieces of ass for the picking, and if Gotham can fall then so can they all. I propose a trade - one of your sluts for one of mine. I recently conquered the delicious Poison Ivy… perhaps you'd like a taste? I'd love to sample some of your fine stock. I hear you have some of the dirtiest whores in the city, and some of the old familiar faces. How I'd love to see them again.

-A Fellow Traveler

I sat stunned at my desk. Incredible. Could this mystery fellow really be so stupid and trusting? Did he think it was a game? Well, if so, it was one I intended to win. I called a succulent-looking Zatanna before me and informed her of the developments. 

"Of course you intend to destroy this guy," she said immediately. I grinned.

"And you're my biggest weapon," I replied. "This idiot thinks we can work together. What I want is to eliminate him and take his sluts for my own. You'll infiltrate his organization and deal with him as quickly as possible. If you can, get the location of his stable of whores and see if you can ascertain his methods of control. I want to know what we're dealing with here. Quiz him for information, but don't let him touch you. If he gets too close, if you think he's going to be a threat, end him."

Zatanna's dark eyes were alive with power-lust. I knew she anticipated this as much as I did. As a bonus, I would take the defeated former villainess Poison Ivy while my slut cleaned out the competition for me. This would be child's play. 

****

Emails were exchanged over the course of the week, and a simple bargain was arranged. Zatanna and Poison Ivy would indeed be exchanged at a private meeting, where the four of us - two slaves and their Masters - would meet at last. I was not surprised by the identity of my mystery opponent when I finally met him. He was a twisted, ugly little man, with beady eyes and prominent teeth. It was Jervis Tetch, the so-called Mad Hatter - an expert in mind control technology. It made perfect sense. He was something of a goofball villain, but without Batman to ruin his schemes, he had drifted toward darker territory and greater success. Tetch seemed less than surprised by my appearance - he must have connected the dots and discovered my identity already, to have initiated this contact. His eyes were on my glorious witch-slut, not me, as we faced each other. 

Zatanna wore a black corset, g-string, fishnet stockings, and pumps, a studded choker collar around her neck connected to a leash which I handed to Tetch without a word. He was dangerous - being in the same room with him was risky enough, and had I not been allowed to select our meeting point I would not have even been present. We sized each other up briefly and then he shoved Poison Ivy forward crudely. I had already been appreciating her appearance - pale, almost sickly skin, but a full figure and impressive curves. Little of her body was hidden from me; decorative leaves, vines and flowers adorned her frame, covering her modesty just barely. It was her eyes that attracted me most to her in those initial moments, though. Piercing, inhuman, brilliant green, but they were dead eyes, depleted of any defiance. She looked at me with fear and reverence as I took her by the arm. She said nothing, only whimpered as she was traded between parties like so much chattel.

"I'll enjoy sampling your sweets, good sir," Tetch spoke at last, running a bony hand up and down Zatanna's side. "You guarantee complete compliance?"

"One hundred percent," I said without a smile. 

Zatanna shivered, feigning fear, and I restrained my own contempt for the Hatter. The thought of this disgusting little creature using my sweet witch slave… Fortunately, I knew it would be a matter of minutes before she turned on Jervis and destroyed any plans he had for dominating a woman, now or ever again. She truly looked the part of the slut, and I knew that made her irresistible. Ivy, meanwhile, had the look of a new convert. I again gazed into her eyes, savoring the terror there, the existential nightmare. Still adapting to her newfound role… I would shape her under me, and she would not remember Jervis Tetch by the end of this day. I ran a hand through her bright red hair and she flinched, looking away. I smiled. So new to this life, so impressionable. She seemed more disturbed by my youth than Tetch, more disbelieving. I assumed Tetch knew what it was like to be a teenage boy… the lusts that could lead me into the life I now led. Ivy, meanwhile, would be confounded by this turn of events. We left agreeing to correspond further through proxy emails, and I even entertained the possibility of an alliance to keep up appearances. Then we were gone. 

In the back of the limousine, Ivy was silent, hugging herself, eyes on the carpet as we returned to my penthouse, to begin an encounter she surely now dreaded but would learn to  enjoy. I met her silence with silence; I felt no need to make conversation. The few times we made scant eye contact, she immediately averted her gaze, biting her lip. I fucked her with my eyes, undressing her, molesting her in my mind. A powerful woman, brought low by the desires of men. I placed a hand on her thigh and smiled as she flinched and scooted away from me. 

Ivy joined me in my private quarters without any preparation. My eyes were drawn to her cute, upturned breasts, nipples concealed by the foliage she wore. I knew she had recently adopted a more modest costume, but clearly Tetch had ended that notion. Most of her body was already on display for me. She was allure incarnate, a seductress turned slave. She had always used those looks as an asset, a way to gain some semblance of dominance in a male-run world of crime. Now, the curves, the lips, the legs, the face, were just a promise of her own compliance. She was a body to be used.

"You know why you're here," I said slowly. She sat before me on an expansive couch in my lounge. Ten feet separated us. At last she looked up and held my gaze.

"I do," she said darkly. I thrilled at her acquiescence, prick stiffening as I watched her watching me.

"You serve Tetch as his whore, and he's unloaded you like a gift, a piece of property, a bottle of fine wine. Maybe you think you will be traded back to him at some point, but that's not the case."

"No?" She seemed almost uninterested. Impudent. I was heating up, my lust for her growing as my eyes roamed over her body - her flat stomach, folded legs nearly nude before me. A beautiful face, lips painted a glossy green, red eyeshadow giving her eyes a sunken, tired look. The hue of those full, green lips reflected in her shimmering eyes. Did I see tears developing?

"I will be your new Master," I stated, unbuttoning my pants. My erection was hardening, and I beckoned her toward me. "You can forget all about the Hatter. Crawl to me now."

Ivy hesitated, bit her lip again, then obeyed. She slipped off the couch and I enjoyed the sight of her curvaceous body slinking toward me with inborn grace and allure. She might not yet enjoy the life of a loveslave, but she was clearly born for it. She shook the hair out of her face as she knelt before me, trembling hands rising to my fly. Slowly, so slowly, she unzipped me, tugged the pants down slightly. Her eyes were focused on the bulge in my boxers and she traced the outline with long, emerald fingernails, coming in to nip and bite at the shaft through my underwear. Then her cool hand was inside, fingers running along the length as she met my eyes once more. This time there was more confidence in them, the hint of a smile as she tickled my swelling scrotum, then withdrew her hand and leaned in to tenderly, repeatedly kiss the area right above my sparse patch of pubic hair. Ivy pulled the elastic waistband of my boxers down inch by inch until my cock sprung free to hit the bottom of her chin. For such an inexperienced slave, she had incredible skill with teasing and temptation. Natural eroticism… she was a woman in control of her own allure. Perhaps a little too much control… She kept her mouth far from my dick as she kissed around my pelvis, eyes still on mine, almost issuing a challenge now. Again that impudence. I would not have it.

"My cock," I ordered. "In your mouth."

"You want me," she whispered, and I nodded affirmation. She traced her jawline with my glans, fingers tight around the hardening shaft. My hips bucked and she moved away slightly, teasing me again. The bitch.

"Yesss…. Want… your mouth," I growled. 

"Perfect," she said, rising from her knees to face me directly. Before I could react, she planted a kiss on my lips and I felt an immediate burning sensation. I realized in that instant that something was wrong as Ivy withdrew and smirked. Then suddenly a wave of unbridled lust swept through me, seemingly against my control, like the effects of a strong drug. My mind was clouded, thrilling to the pleasure and anticipation Ivy had given me. It was the purest sensation of desire I had felt since my last coupling with Zatanna, and I blinked dumbly, not understanding, as she stood back from me. I felt an iron-tight grip on my wrists and looked down to see the vines she wore stretching across the space between us, spiraling up my arms until I was detained. The horror of this unnatural occurrence passed and was replaced with rage. I roared with anger but my head was pounding now from the intensity of the feelings she fed me. My mouth flowed with drool, my cock leaking sympathetically. It was too much… I could not control myself. I whined and wordlessly struggled against my bonds, in vain. At full strength, I could not have broken free, but I was reeling, beginning now to realize what she had done. It was so simple, I cursed my stupidity.

"Pheromones," I hissed, and she nodded, smiling thinly.

"You'd be surprised how easily the human mind can be bent by chemistry. Then again, maybe you wouldn't. I know all about your little set-up here, boy. And it's coming to an end right now."

"You… fucking… bitch!"

My lips burned, and I wet them with my slobbering tongue, as my eyes fell to Ivy's body, wishing so desperately that I could touch just one of her beautiful tits, take it in my mouth, suck the nipple, bite it, tongue it… I was out of my mind with lust, my prick pointing straight out, dribbling thick white pre-cum already. This sensation was new to me… The inability to act, to take what I wanted. I was helpless before this woman as I might be before any woman without the powers I had come to rely on. I wanted Poison Ivy more than I had wanted any other woman. She was beautiful, perfect, divine, a goddess… So much more powerful now, standing at full height, proudly thrusting her chest out, knowing it drove me wild. I needed her! I roared and kicked against the vines, which quickly subdued me and pinned me to the couch. Ivy stood before me, triumphant.

"You and Tetch… working together," I said, barely able to connect phrases in the heat of desire. I hated her, loved her… Ivy laughed, a loud, mocking cackle. I cursed myself again for my foolishness. In my rush to enjoy yet another of these rare fruit, I had possibly ended my career, doomed my agenda, before it truly began.

"Working together? Hardly!" she said. "That little shit works for me. A slave to the powers I've already infected you with, my dear boy. Like any other stupid male creature, just like the heroines I'm sure you know about, and some of the ones you don't… he is mine to control. Just as you will be."

"But… but… I thought you'd switched sides… that you were working with Black Canary and the Birds of Prey now… For good...!"

"I was only doing that to get the heat off my back for a while," she said, rolling her eyes. "And with the Bat out of business, there's no reason to play nice any more. No reason to do anything but grab the power I know should be mine. Take Gotham back for myself and my beauties."

"Those women… Quinzel… your friend…"

"My only friend, my only true lover, my only Mistress, is Mother Earth," she spat back. "All the rest of you apes are just playthings. You always have been. Poor little boy. Thought you were going to have some fun in the big leagues, but it didn't quite pan out, did it?"

I screamed with rage, pulling against the vines as they shredded my clothing then pinned me easily against a wall. One constricted tightly against my neck and I twitched, still overcome with a terrible lust for Ivy that was breaking my resistance by the second. I understood now, in some small way, the effect my powers had. I was filled with an all-consuming hatred for this woman, but I knew I would ultimately do whatever she asked of me. If there was even a chance I could enjoy that body… My cock rebelled against my mind and I knew I could not fight it much longer.

The tall doors to the lounge were thrown open and in strode Selina and Shiva. My only hope at this point. I had had the lounge bugged beforehand in case things got out of control. My whores would fight to free me. But Ivy defeated them both with ridiculous ease. As my oxygen supply began to dwindle, I saw vines leap from her body and stretch across the room, grasping my Selina and Lady Shiva by the arm and throat, respectively. Then Ivy was aiming an arm at them, and I was dimly aware of tiny darts speckling the two women's lovely bodies, fired from the deadly flowers that dotted Ivy's frame. They were both unconscious within moments and tossed aside dismissively. 

"I would congratulate you on your success in taming these women," she snarled, "If I didn't know from personal experience just how easy it is to break these pathetic sluts. The human brain is powerful, but compared to the needs and nature of the body, it is nothing."

"Now," she said, walking forward as I gagged and dangled from the wall of my own home. "Let me hear you say it. Call my name. Mistress."

"N-n-never," I squeaked, eyes bulging. The sensation of oxygen deprivation combined with this unholy lust was unbearable. I replied out of reflex, but I knew I could not last long. I began to scream as I felt vines sliding up my inner thighs, heading north. One snaked around my rigid cock and gripped it tightly, another sliding between my ass cheeks and menacing my anus. Ivy stared deep into my soul as she prepared to violate my body. She leaned over, breathed heavily on my cockhead, and I whined. Pre-cum pulsed in rivulets down the shaft, wasted. I felt impotent. Defeated. 

"Come now," she said with supreme arrogance. I hated her and loved her intensely in that moment, as one might fear God. "We both know what it's like to take a body by force. We know how far a mind can be pushed before it snaps. Tell me, little boy, would you like to retain at least some of your sanity in my service, or would you rather spend the rest of your pitifully short life as a drooling simpleton, a fucktoy for men and women alike? Or maybe I'll just slice you up and use you as fertilizer. After all, it's for me to decide. I am your Mistress. Say the words, child."

The vine rimmed my asshole, threatening intrusion, and I struggled ineffectually as the liana that held my throat crept up to hug the corner of my mouth like a fishhook. 

"Say it," she repeated. "Admit your defeat, or I'll fuck you from both ends until you bleed from your holes. You'll beg for death, I promise you that. But I can't promise I'll be merciful enough to give it."

I stared back at her, tears streaming down my cheeks. I felt despair, contemplated how the word would feel on my tongue, leaving my lips.

"Three."

I thrashed, or attempted to, but the vines were like steel cables. 

"Two."

I felt the prickle of thorns on the vine running up the back of my leg. The vine flexed and moved like a living cock, filling me with cold dread. I just hoped I blacked out before the rape began, or soon after. This couldn't happen. Couldn't…

"One."

 (VIII) SAY MY NAME

A blinding flash of light overtook us and I heard the sound of a heavy mass smashing into the ceiling above me. Then I dropped from my place on the wall and instantly collapsed into a kneeling position. The vines loosened their grip and I clawed at them, still unseeing. I could only hear as something large crashed into the wall beside me, then crumpled to the carpet. I saw spots, coughed convulsively as I unraveled the vine around my throat. I looked up and blinked until I saw clearly. Zatanna had taken Ivy's place before me, and she stood with one heel on the bitch's head, driving her face into the carpet. Ivy's arms were held down, clearly magically restrained, motionless at her side, but her legs kicked wildly behind her. My sorceress waved her arm and the vines shriveled, drying up as if under a desert sun. I pulled myself clear and scuttled away. 

Zatanna was still fully dressed, and she seemed to anticipate my first question, though my throat was still too raw to ask it.

"Tetch cracked under interrogation, gave Ivy up before we even got back to his…whaddya call it? Secret lair," she smiled, keeping Ivy's face in the floor. The bitch let out a muffled yell, and my eyes were on her naked ass as she struggled. The lust was rising still - the effect of her pheromones was undiminished. But there was nothing to stop me from taking her now. My cock swelled, angry, pulsing more fluids.

"I assume his mind control devices did something to strengthen Ivy's power base, keep all the bitches in line, but it was her scheme, not his. As soon as he gave her up I realized the danger and came back here. I'm sorry it took so long. Tetch had quite the story to tell, and he gets a little verbose."

"You've done very well, my slave," I breathed through clenched teeth. I regarded Ivy's vulnerable body, mind racing with perversions and punishments I could visit upon her.

"What happens now?" Zatanna asked, her eyes following mine to Ivy's defenseless form. 

"What do you think?" I grinned, crawling forward and taking my place behind Poison Ivy. A leg lunged out to kick me, but I grabbed it and subdued her, sliding between her legs as I pinned them down. I smacked her ass with all my might and drew a satisfying scream before spreading her cheeks wide and spitting heavily on her asshole. I spanked her again, leaving a red handprint on her pristine flesh. I watched the assmeat quiver, then guided my cock to her, nudging against the wad of spit covering her tight anus. She let out an inhuman shriek, a roar of desperation and rage, clenching her cheeks but only succeeding in squeezing my dickhead as I pulled back my foreskin. I watched hungrily as pre-cum drooled onto her and I wiped my cock up and down her ass cleavage, enjoying her screams of protest. I wanted to take her body now; my whole being drove me to this one goal. There would be no stopping me. Already, my juices would be sensitizing her flesh wherever I anointed her with my cock, conditioning her to enjoy the coming rape of her most private orifice. I would repay her in full for the threats she had leveled against me. And then some.

"Naaaaooooo!! Don't do this!" she shrieked, turning her head with some difficulty to look back over her shoulder at me. I saw fear, real fear, in those green eyes. "Please… I'll do anything you say… Just don't rape me!"

I burst with a cruel guffaw and spanked her again, harder. She squealed.

"Don't insult me, whore. At least have the decency not to beg to be spared. Not now. How many times have you heard the same pleading from your victims? And what good did it do them? What good would it have done me?"

Her only answer was a single tear, rolling down the curve of her nose as she shut her eyes tight in preparation for her coming rape. I spread her cheeks again and grabbed her hips, pulling them up and toward me, then fisted my cock madly and began to push incessantly against her back door. I thumbed her anus, opening her wider, wide enough to inch my dickhead in. She screamed.

"Naaaahhhhhhh!!!"

"You would have sodomized me without mercy, without hesitation, Ivy. Tell me, how does it feel?"

"F-f-f-fuck you! Make it stop!! Get off me! Nooooooo!!"

Her squeals became more high-pitched as I forced first the glans, then an inch of the shaft, past her tight muscular ring, enjoying the way it clung to the rock-hard length of my cock. I whooped, victorious, and painted her insides with my pre-cum at last, knowing the effect it would have. I would show Ivy true pheromonal power. She had no chance of escape now, no hope, and I simply reveled in the purity of this rape as Zatanna kept the bitch's head down, a six-inch heel threatening to pierce Ivy's temple as the villainess wailed and moaned. 

"Heeelp! Someone help meeeee!" she cried.

"Have some dignity, woman," I grunted as I took her, feeling her spread under my guiding hand. 

Relentlessly, I slid more and more of my dick into her tight channel, savoring it, enjoying the thrill of domination, a complete 180 from the fear of submission I had faced moments before. Never had I been so close to abject defeat, to a violation of my own body. I knew I had myself to blame; my own pride and hubris nearly destroyed me. I looked up at Zatanna, who urged me onwards with a curt nod, eyes hungry and cruel as she appraised Ivy's condition. My pre-coital fluids lubricated her ass well and I sank all the way in, up to the hilt, then reared back and gave her a quick thrust. I knew the feel of an anal virgin, knew the sensations of shame, humiliation, pain, and growing lust Ivy would now be experiencing. I jiggled her ass cheeks with both hands, watching myself sink again and again into her unwilling body. 

I would be her slave by now with no doubt if not for Zatanna's intervention. My own mind? Gone in the wind, scattered. I would never have yielded, I told myself as I massaged Ivy's ass and began a steady rhythm, prick seeming to expand still further within her. She would have had to break me once and for all. But that choice would never be hers now. I reached under her and cupped her pussy, finding her clit and rubbing it fiercely, making sure she enjoyed this brutal humiliation. I thought of Harley Quinn, subdued and stuffed with cock at the wishes of the woman I now subjugated. I thought of Batwoman, raped like a whore in the street, the life she knew ending violently and unforgivingly. I would inherit these slaves; Ivy's entire stable was now my property just as surely as I owned her ass. I sawed into her as Zatanna knelt, squatting over Ivy's head and leaning forward to kiss me. I felt the tingle from Ivy's earlier kiss return, sensed Zatanna picking up the raw power of the villain's pheromones, and our kiss became wetter, sloppier, needier. I sucked her tongue, bit her lip and pulled, taking out all my energy on both of these women. 

Ivy's wails were punctuated by hard grunts, like hiccups as I raped her. But her cries were less terrified now… more an unbridled, growing reaction to the feelings I, and only I, could give to her. It was the sound of creeping submission and I knew it too well. The magician was reaching under her, massaging her tits, pulling dried leaves and dead flowers off her body. My hands joined Zatanna's and I used my grip on Ivy's breasts as leverage to fuck her ass even harder, eliciting appreciative moans and yelps. My cock was hot, pulsing, and I had no intention of dragging out this encounter any further. It was time for Ivy to join the fold, time for her old life to end. I rode the crest of pleasure as my orgasm approached, tweaking her fat nipples and fucking her even faster as her sphincter hugged me tightly. I pounded, unrelenting, then exploded, howling in triumph as my mind cleared of that overbearing lust she had instilled in me. The haze cleared, and I seemed to empty all my lust and fury into Ivy's yielding rectum. I flooded her with my seed, shooting again and again, holding her down and bucking against her helpless body. The feeling of domination by force surged into Zatanna's mind as well and she fell aside, twitching, fingers thrusting into her own snatch in sympathy. 

Ivy blubbered pathetically and looked back with horror in those lovely green eyes, a hard look I saw soften as the effects of my chemicals began to take hold. I held her gaze and appreciated this moment, smiling down at her as I knew her own mind began to betray her. That deep hunger, that addiction, would be growing in her belly, in her pussy, in her soul. It was a void only I could truly fill and make her whole, for the rest of this slut's life. I had needed no magical manipulation to break Ivy's mind, only my own prowess and a little luck. As I felt her shudder under me in an orgasm, I knew she was reeling at this development, her insides sensitized to a degree that would overload her pleasure centers as my sperm seeped in. She would crack. She would give in to the lust for cum I had given her like all the rest. I shot into her until warm jism spurted out around my length, and I took that as an opportunity to push as deep as I could go into her. More cum oozed out of her well-fucked, red-raw asshole and I spanked her again, driving the point home over and over. Then I scooped up my jism on three fingers and thrust them into Ivy's defenseless cunt, wracking her spasming body with even greater ecstasy. 

I enjoyed the wet sounds as I drove a final few, angry thrusts home into Poison Ivy, my body tingling with excitement, heart thundering in my ears. I was more sure now than ever that my plan could come to fruition. I could truly have them all. 

But as Ivy fell below me like so many others had, there was another woman in my head. She could have been crafted by the gods themselves. Her body was perfectly proportioned, the embodiment of female power and allure. Her face was framed by endless cascading black tresses, offset by her bright eyes and deep crimson, pouting, perfect lips. Her skin a rich, deep Mediterranean tan - she practically glowed with energy. Square, toned shoulders framed the two perfect breasts it was the fantasy of men worldwide to touch, displayed so firmly on her chest, prominent and enticing, confined by a solid silver chestplate and red bustier. Her hips flared wide and her completely exposed, muscular legs tempted me with visions of how they would later part for their true Master.

I saw the heroine, Wonder Woman's face, imagined it streaked with tears, looking up at me in defeat. Painted with lines of cum. My cum. I spanked Ivy savagely, until her white ass glowed red, then pulled out and smeared my cum-drenched cock over her full, round, brutalized cheeks. I had bent Ivy to my will with pure force. I would need much more power to confront anyone like the Amazon. But I had my victories here and there.

I contemplated the huddled form of my newest slave. Then I reached forward and put a hand in her luxurious red hair, enjoying the leaves that fell from her tresses like a crown of thorns as I grasped her mane by the root and jerked her head up. Those pale eyes now showed earnest submission, the likes of which she had only faked earlier, and I prodded her face with my sticky, still-hard cock. 

"Now," I growled. "Let me hear you say it. Say my name… Obey your Master."

I traced the lines of her tears with my beet-red dickhead as she began to weep anew, then I jerked her head to the side again and smacked her face hard.

"I said let me hear it, slut!"

Her hands closed around my shaft at last, taking it lovingly but insistently, urgently. The lust she had planted in me had yet to truly die down. As those green lips at last engulfed my dick, fulfilling the promise with which she had teased me earlier, I took hold of her head and began fucking her mouth, leaking cream into her throat. She swallowed greedily, accepting her role. I humped harder and harder, until she was gagging and coughing. Meanwhile, Zatanna was crawling behind Ivy, spreading her cheeks and planting her lips firmly on our new slut's well-fucked asshole, sucking hard to gain the leftover cream she too was a slave to. 

Ivy's eyes were wide in panic as I fucked her face, not allowing her to breathe. I enjoyed the sounds she made as I steadied her, shoving her face hard against my pelvis, again and again, grinding against her viciously. The feeling was incredible - her tight throat spasming around my length, my hands deep in her soft, thick hair, her nose in my pubes, my heavy, sperm-laden testicles slapping her repeatedly in the chin. I couldn't last much longer… Poison Ivy had fallen, and now was the time to mark her.

I pulled out and began to spray, sending arcs of thick jism over her face. Only then did she call out the word I had demanded, and seal her fate forever. As I rained down upon her, I held her head back to look down into those green, green eyes. She looked right back, mouth wide, tongue out, and cried:

"M-m-m-m-m… MASTER!"

End of Book One

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