Why you should fear the dark (darkest_fate/Flassche)

RE: Why you should fear the dark

To say Damian was enjoying himself was a understatement. He truly was relishing this moment; the tipping point. It was here that the girl would know what would lie in wait for her. He took in everything; the change of the colour of her skin; the sounds she was producing, the increasingly moist and slick womanhood, everything. He would memorise everything and would reproduce it in all the nights to come. This was the day he would begin his path of revenge, for his father and the other fallen warriors. He leaned forwards, lips close to the girls ears, even if she were still wearing the cowl.

“Fight it, fight it off.” His hands slipped around her frame, finding both her nipples and twisting them painfully. “You know what happens if you cave in now. I will win, your justice will end and everything you stand for will be lost. You lose when…” He bit her neck playfully and forced the vibrating device closer to her, pressing hard against her womanhood. “….moan for me.” He held his embrace then, simply counting off her inevitable climax in his own mind, trying to see if he could time it right.

If and when she came he would simply hold the embrace, feel every shiver her body would make, every sound she expelled and the flaring of her body temperature. He would savour every moment, all the while whispering ‘good girl’ in her ear, over and over again.

When it was all over, the program done and the embrace as well, he would calmly walk towards the device and reset the commands, playing it at a loop. It would cycle between a constant mode at Heavy setting, A cycle of soft and hard vibrations and a random pattern. It would all last five minutes, give her one minute of rest before it would switch to the next mode. He also programmed a new setting that every so often there would not be a rest for the girl. He pressed start and heard the device beginning to countdown. When it was just a few more seconds he patter her cheeks, bid her farewell and simply left her there, chained, tied, and bound in place, the only thing in the room besides her a small stool and table with a camera on it.



The room she was in was made out of pure rock and poured concrete, yet the walls, ceiling and floors were crafted in such a pattern that no sound would leave this place, nor sound enter it. He left her there for many minutes, simply her and the device that plagued her. He returned after twenty minutes, only to place a very large mirror in front of her, letting her see herself. By that point she was no doubt a mess; fluids over her bare flesh, hair dishevelled and body bright red. The only thing that would still be decent would be the cowl on her face, like some kind of cruel joke that only Damian would appreciate.

Whilst she sat in her new room, Damian was busy with other things. He had salvaged more bits from the bat cave and was remodelling his suit. He had only come back into the light a few months ago, letting the world see Damian Wayne; A spitting image of his father. There had been some questions about his legitimacy, yet a DNA test cleared it all up, not to mention he knew basically everything about what Wayne enterprises had to offer; both legal and not. In the years before that he had simply been training nonstop and recuperating in the Lazarus pit. Normally one time was enough for the body to heal, yet not with a wound as fatal as Damian had suffered. The constant use of the pool, then training again had sharpened him, yet also laced his weapon with the poison of his own now dark mind.

He did some paperwork for Wayne enterprises and wrote a new paper for potential expansion, although he would no doubt encounter some resistance within the executive board. He could care little about them, yet he had to keep up appearances. Three hours later he came back into the cell of Bat girl, switching off the device and quickly browsing through the footage and then glancing at her. “Are you ready to tell me the words I told you in the beginning?”

RE: Why you should fear the dark

It just kept going. Batgirl fought; she fought with every fiber of her being. She fought so hard that pain settled into her, digging deep within her. It felt as though her womb itself had begun to spasm and jerk, as if begging its owner to simply give in to the pleasure that constantly assailed the body. The vibrations shook Batgirl so deep that she was almost certain they pressed against that very tender area. Oh, how her sex hurt, ached, wanted her to just give in. Her abdomen burned with the pain of clenching, with holding.

Perhaps with slightly different circumstances, Batgirl would have made it. If she'd actually tended to her youthful body before that night; if she'd been a little less tired; if she'd numbed herself somehow; if Damien hadn't moved to grab her nipples; if teeth hadn't teased her neck in an intimately erotic fashion; if the vibration hadn't shifted just perfectly to press her little love button into her sex; so many ifs mounted. But Batgirl couldn't help it. She couldn't help the tight coil that formed at her coil, winding tighter and tighter. She couldn't help it when he pressed tight and held her against him. She couldn't help but ride her body as it came, the intense pleasure smashing through her, tearing over her exhausted form.

Batgirl could help one thing: she could keep herself quiet. It took great effort, mouth clamping hard on the gag, so hard that it hurt. There was still a throaty moan, still a thrust of hips, still the sound of her sex trembling and leaking into the vessel below, anointing the vibrating toy with feminine juices. The orgasm was obvious, bodily obvious; it shook the lean girl like a dog does a treat. She jerked and jolted, her sex leaking creme, her hips rolling and undulating. Her body bowed in a near perfect arch, demonstrating flexibility that once again proved her gymnastic qualities. But there was no scream. It was the quietest fierce orgasm likely ever recorded. When it finished it left its vessel panting, her body tingling, her sex still trembling in aftershocks, the nether lips breathing as though they too panted.

Good girl; he'd held her through it all. Fuck him. Not literally; even now, Barbara didn't want Damien like that. But fuck him. Batgirl panted, forcing her blue eyes open. Hatred and anger filled them more than lust, even as she followed him toward the device. It wouldn't stop there; she hadn't expected it to. If anything, he would set it to an even greater volume. There would barely be seconds into the next cycle when the body would jerk again, pulling against the bindings with inhuman strength. It was as if a switch had been thrown, the fight transforming beautifully into orgasmic bliss.

No noise though. A grunt perhaps, or a barely audible moan. Plenty of saliva; Batgirl couldn't help that. But no screams, no cries, no forced sound. Twenty minutes passed, and a disheveled, exhausted Batgirl looked at Damien as he returned. She met her own gaze in the mirror, nearly laughing at the sight. Her thighs and sex were soaked with her own arousal. Each breast had strained, the nipples bullet points atop the mound. Sweat beaded across her skin, gathering in her cleavage, sticking the remnants of her uniform to her. Even her hair stuck to her, the brilliant red sticking to skin and drool. But the cowl looked nearly untouched; she was still Batgirl, if an orgasmically exhausted version.

Hours passed; time simply looping for Batgirl. She grew used to the cycles, enough to ride them, to tame her own body. Cycles she could adapt to; her mind could handle, even intensively pleasurable ones. She never stopped trembling, seemed to nearly be in constant state of climax, but she still never uttered a noise. When the time finished, she would be a panting mess, looking as exhausted as though she'd gone rounds with Bane, but there was still fire and challenge in those blue eyes as they looked up at him. It was the fire of a trapped, hopeless animal, but a fire nonetheless.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

One glance at her was all that he needed. The girl had not broken, as was to be expected, yet it would mean that he needed to up his game somewhat. Anyone who was introduced into the bat family had a natural toughness and intellect in them, the rest was simply beaten into them. Although only a select few could possibly grasp what Bruce had gone through as a youth, the training he himself underwent, it was safe to say that Batgirl was as hard as steel in her own right. On sheer intellect Damian considered her the superior to Supergirl and Wonderwoman, if not also in hardness and determination. True, the others were the physical superior specimen, yet Barbara had forced her body to its maximum limitations. Could the other two say the same?

Damion kept the mirror in the room, knowing the reflections it cast would do something to her; either demoralise her or strengthen her, it mattered not, the stronger the prey, the more tender the meat. He moved as close as needed, placing hands on the remnants of her clothing, tearing it off her in harsh pulls, digging into her shoulders now and again. He left the cowl on her, determined to break her as Batgirl, not the sniffling daughter of a police officer.

He released the chain from her neck and let her stretch her neck from time to time, having held it in a similar position for nearly four hours. He wanted to break her, yes, but not destroy her body in the process. He moved out of the room and grabbed a small garden like house, aiming it at her body. He then spend the next half hour cleaning the entire room and hitting her with freezing cold water, biting into her skin and making her clatter as if she was going hypothermic within a second. Temperature changes could be used for torture, yet Damian was simply cleaning her up somewhat, cleaning any waste she might have produced and making her sparkly clean again, ready for the next round.

He brought her a small bottle of water and juice that contained the necessary vitamins, proteins and other essential materials to keep her body functioning. It smelled, looked and would taste the same as the batches Batman or Nigthwing would make for the team, yet she would no doubt be distrusting of it. He held her head backwards and slowly let it slowly dribble in her mouth in small droplets, taking as long as she needed to empty the small bottle. He cleaned her once more afterwards, ensuring that she was properly shivering and that her nipples were as hard as stone, pointing outwards.

He placed four separate chains on the spreader bar between her ankles, fastening with the four corners of the sealing, attach them to a small pulley there. Next up was the slow pulling on one main rope, hoisting her upwards, forcing her to hang from the ceiling, her face at crotch level. He positioned the bowl still underneath her, glancing at the content and noticing that it was already one third full. He was impressed by her production, yet knew he could produce more. As promised, he wasn’t going to talk her head off anymore, occasionally just asking if she was ready to speak, nothing more. He repositioned the device against her clitoris and ensured that it was pressing down hard, labia spread apart as far as was comfortable. The four chains would ensure that she had little to no way of swinging back and forth, simply holding her in place. The chain around her neck that held the spider gag was also fastened to the ground underneath her, ensuring that she could not use her flexibility to wiggle her way to one of the chains or to the spreader bar.

The mirror stood in front of her and displayed her naked and hanging frame. Drool over your face and body was one thing, yet leaking your own juices over your body and past your face would be something else. To make matters worse Lance placed two clamps on her nipples, flicking his digits against them to make them hard enough and then clamp them shut.



Attached to those he had a small chain each. He smiled at her in a brotherly fashion as he placed a small weight on each of them, pulling a bit on the chain. Then he simply set the machine to auto sort and let the torture begin. The power was not at 50% anymore, instead now switching between 50 and 70, going for sessions of ten minutes, the program switching every minute. It was pulsing one minute, then a constant vibration, then repeating patterns, then several softer buzzes with the occasional larger one. There wasn’t a pattern in there that you could predict and prepare for.

He left her then, only coming back an hour or so later with a proper chair and a book about ancient china. He calmly slid in his comfortable chair and began flipping through the pages, occasionally producing a ‘hmmm’ when he noticed something amusing.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

Batgirl wanted to attack as Damien drew close. Her muscles lurched, her body trying to obey her will. Yet it couldn't. Batgirl's body had been exhausted, battered down by the near constant round of orgasms and cries, forcing her into a sexual exhaustion that her training hadn't prepared her for. Bruce never thought that any of his disciples would end up in a situation like this. At best, they had been given training in how to deal with an assassin who attempted to seduce. That had been part of the reasoning Dick had given to Bruce when the older man had found out that his proteges were getting closer together. It hadn't worked, and the age difference couldn't have helped. Now Barbara found herself sending a prayer to Dick, glad that he'd at least introduced her body to pleasures before she fell into Damien's clutches. She'd hate to think what a virgin would amount to in his clutches.

the clothing pulled away from Batgirl, barely leaving her with that name. The cowl remained, practically sticking to her face. So, that must be part of the game. He wasn't breaking Barbara Gordon; he was breaking Batgirl. Damien wanted the stronger prey. Batgirl nearly wished that he'd just remove the damn thing; Barbara could collapse and release where Batgirl couldn't. And Barbara's body ached for release, so much.

A release, and Batgirl felt a tension in her neck she hadn't been aware of. Her attention had been so focused on her sexual parts that she hadn't given much thought to the other bits of her, to the neck or arms. All of her had become stiff, the muscles pulled tight and then exhausted. Being hit with the cold water didn't help. Batgirl had, of course, been trained to handle hypothermia, but even she couldn't prevent her body from reacting. Her teeth chattered, her skin turned slightly blue, and tears watered in those blue eyes again. The spray did blast away the sweat, drool, and juices that had collected on her, which was at least something of a relief. Yet being soaked didn't help; her hair felt heavy, hanging on her with almost as much weight as her cape would have.

A drink, one that Barbara took. Why the hell not? He wasn't going to poison her; that would ruin his fun. If he drugged her, then so much the better. She'd have something else to fight. But it tasted familiar, and Batgirl nearly cried at the taste. She trembled again, seriously debating talking into the gag. Not to beg for sexual release, but to ask for clothing for protection.

So much for not hurting me, because this aches like a bitch. The redhead thought. Even her nipples hurt, thanks in no small part to the cold. Cold had made them into frozen bullets, drawn tight.

then chains, of course there were chains. Batgirl grunted as she felt her limbs pulling up. Her lower half contorted, raising up and over, bending her. She could see her sex hovering up, held into position by the chains, dangling over the rest of her. Another chain, connected to the device about her neck, pressing down. And he spread her nether lips, baring the little button again, to yet again press the thrumming device against her. Batgirl growled and twisted, not in the least surprised to find that the chains kept her from moving far.

I can handle this. Honestly, Damien, did you forget that I was one of the most flexible of the---what the hell are those? Weights, and they clamped onto her pink nubs. Batgirl actually cried out now, jerking as the weights pulled her small nipples down. The sheer pain of it biting into her flesh made tears form into her eyes. She cursed Damien mentally as loud as possibly, sucking in deep breaths at the pain. No pain; fuck him.

Vibrations returned. Not in a pattern, but at random, bouncing over the spectrum. When it peaked, so did Batgirl, her body jerking. The jerks caused the chains to pull at her nipple, which sent pain and pleasure jolting through her. The pain and pleasure flew to her loins, lighting the fires there. More juices flowed, drizzling over her body, glazing those clenched abs.

Everything hurt; everything. Batgirl's world became a haze of pain and arousal, and all she could do was jerk, jerk and clench her jaw. Everything hurt... everything.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

The hero moved towards him, still considering himself as one. He was going to save Gotham, achieving something that his father could not. He closed the book with a loud smack, hopefully bringing the young girl back to her senses. He removed the clamps from her sore nipples and was thoroughly enjoying how hard they were. He placed his lips around her left one and gently began to suck on it, massaging the poor piece of skin as he swirled his tongue around it. The right one he did not please, seeing as he did not want to spoil her all at once.

He then slowly began to lower her to the ground, making sure she did not bump her head harshly or mark her skin. He removed the chains from her spreader bar and placed a small workout mat on the floor, allowing her to sit on her knees without too much discomfort. The spreader bar kept her legs wide, yet he forced her head downwards, fastening two small chains at the back of her neck, placing them on the ground below her neck, ensuring that she couldn’t move her upper back any higher, resulting in her behind raised upwards. He used chains on her knees as well, forcing her in that position. He glanced at her and smiled, seeing a woman with her shoulders nearly at the floor and on her knees, ass upwards.

He removed the device from her womanhood and let her rest for a few minutes, hoping she would be fully herself after five minutes or so. “Are you ready to say them, traitor?”

RE: Why you should fear the dark

Batgirl's vision swam, little black dots flickering in and out of her sight, blurring everything. She barely heard the smack of the shutting book, was only dimly aware that there was still someone else in the room, someone moving now. However, Batgirl was all too aware that relief came to one swollen nipple. The little pink peak had turned a darker color, though still retained its rosy hue. warmth surrounded it and Batgirl couldn't help but gasp, trembling. Moisture dribbled from between her thighs, slithering down her already glistening body, adding yet more shine to her. Heat had replaced the chill, and all the fluids made hair stick in addition to making Batgirl's skin shiny.

a shift, a movement as Batgirl lowered. A sigh of relief came from the girl's lips at the new position, blood flowing to stressed limbs. Soon she was effectively on her knees. Then more chains, twisting her, again proving her agility, again twisting her. Her head lowered, her rear raised. Batgirl licked her lips, trying to regain dignity, though she knew it was all but lost, slipped from her fingertips.

Then it moved, it left. Batgirl's sex shuddered at the sudden loss of feeling, the lips seeming to breathe. More liquid drizzled out, running in a little stream once again. Her sex felt strangely absent now, that constant buzzing companion having been left. Absent, and able to recover, at least somewhat. The lack of sensation meant a return of clarity. Batgirl swallowed, closed her eyes, worked her already impressive will to marshal her body. Everything still hurt, all ached. She'd lost track of the orgasms, lost track of how long she'd been twisted and abused. Barbara wanted nothing so much as to say the words that Damien wanted. Just nod, just give a little and you'd get sweet, sweet relief. Tears flooded the blue eyes, pooling within.

But she wore the Bat. She was Batgirl. She sucked, still pulling drool within her mouth, still trying to regain herself. Again Batgirl turned to look to Damien, though most of the defiance had left. Instead she could only level a tired gaze at him, an accepting one, a look that said she realized her situation. No noise though; she had again regained her quiet, at least for the moment. Batgirl could only hope that the solid stare might affect Damien somehow, and she could only hope that the effect would be positive, or perhaps negative enough to bring back the darkness once more.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

So could take one more round at the least, finish this day’s training with a bang and force her to lose consciousness. He had just the perfect way to do so, using two types of liquid to his advantage. He stepped closer towards her and placed a hand on her back; one of the last places that wasn’t covered in her own juices, just a trail of sweat. He rubbed her back gently and almost with a kindness, massaging the tense muscles in the hopes of relaxing her a bit. He did not speak, knowing words would be lost on her, yet he could give her the irritation of having him close by. He waited for her to regain her strength somewhat, then calmly stand up and move back to his bag he brought with him, grabbing a few things.

He raised her face upwards and placed the bowl of her own saliva and womanly essence underneath her face, forcing her to keep her head upwards, lest she coat her face and her cowl in her juices. He then simply began to position himself behind her and placed his hands on her behind, spreading apart her cheeks as far as was comfortable, exposing her abused gender and the virgin orifice that was above it. He slid a finger alongside her fold, coating them in her own juices and then rubbing it against her rectum, massaging the sensitive ring and teasing lubricant on it, occasionally pressing against the entrance, yet not enough to actually enter her. Hopefully this new and perverted sensation would shock her into waking again.
He then moved towards her head again, let her see syringe without the needle, just a barrel that could suck up 20Ml. He placed it in the bowl and sucked up a bit of her essence, making sure the barrel was filled and that she could see it for herself. “Last chance, Batgirl.” He said calmly, positioning himself behind her, left hand spreading apart her cheeks and the right one position the barrel against her rectum, letting the tiny tip slowly enter her, enough to feel, yet far too small to be painful. He waited one minute for a response before he slowly began to insert her own juices inside of her, filling herself with herself. Damian grinned at the thought, slowly letting it flow into her, letting her feel the warmth of the liquid inside of her. It did not matter if she spoke the words or not, he simply would do this act.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

Batgirl watched Damien as carefully as she could. Her vision spun and the constant aching throb that was her body had become nearly unbearable. It took all she had to merely remain conscious at this point, and she was seriously considering just letting go. Bruce would understand; he'd likely never been in a situation like this. Actually, now that Barbara stopped to think about it, he really could picture Bruce bound like this for Talia, or Wonder Woman, or doing the binding to either of those two. So maybe he had been in this position before. Because that was an image she wanted right now.

Such thoughts quickly fled in the presence of reality. A bowl appeared, and Batgirl nearly groaned at the effort of keeping her face free from it. The cowl; the cowl was too important to get stained like that, and Damien fucking knew it, the bastard. So Batgirl twisted yet again, her body screaming at her for contorting away. Fingers returned to her nether region, again. This time Batgirl had half expected them; she merely closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, sucking through the gag that still held her lips apart. Her cheeks spread, and Batgirl had no doubt that all her nether region had been displayed. Doubtless he'd be looking into the tight, glistening pink of her slit. Batgirl could feel the nether lips throbbing, still trembling slightly. It had to be worse though: he hadn't even penetrated her, so the slit still had the tight, girlish look of an untouched teenager. The contrast would no doubt be stupendous. Then there was that tight, tiny little hole only a few scant inches above the throbbing area. Fingers returned there and Batgirl couldn't hold back a moan. No training, no training in taking things into that hole and certainly no preparation for it. Her body ached too much to put up a new fight.

Oh God, what is he doing now? fluttered through Batgirl's mind as Damien came around. A syringe; her body tightened at the sight. Surely he wouldn't drug her? This wasn't the first time she'd thought that though. And that syringe was descending. Wait, it was empty, so he was... oh no, he wasn't. He sucked up her own... what was he... he was moving back, and panic settled into Batgirl's chest, actual panic and fear greater than she'd experienced yet. Surely he wouldn't. Not even him. No way he would. Last chance, hands on Batgirl's ass. The weakened girl actually let out a scream of protest this time, flailing and struggling, desperate to get away from this needle, this last indignity. But she felt the tip sliding into her, pushing into her tight ring. She let out a squeal of protest, not the noises he wanted, surely, and then a push. Batgirl let out a scream, muffled against the gag, but clearly audible as her juices slid into her ass. She felt them shooting inside her, sluicing out and covering her innards all too well. It filled her and brought with it a new sensation that she simply could not handle. Tears flowed as the teenage girl within Batgirl roared to the surface. This was just so utterly unfair. Bound by someone she'd tried to protect, who she didn't hate, tormented to so many orgasms that her body ached. Then this? Then filled with her own produce, feeling it slosh about her insides? That hole hadn't even been touched before.

Batgirl sobbed, letting the silent tears run rivers over the mask. She didn't know if that counted as breaking, and right now she didn't give a damn. Even Bruce would allow it now, surely. Barbara just had to keep telling herself that. Even Bruce would allow it. Even Bruce.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

Damian simply held the needle within the girl, letting her feel it drip inside of her. 20 ML wasn’t much, yet for a virgin like her it would no doubt feel like quite the load, if not alien and unwanted. He then calmly went towards his chair, grabbed the electronic vibrator and placed it against the girl’s gender, placing it at her most sensitive spot and holding it against it. He switched it to manual, bringing the vibrations to 10%, teasing her gender while his right hand removed the syringe from her rear and replaced it with a single digit, pressing it against her backdoor, massing it with small circles.
The vibrations switched to 20%, then 30%, 40%, 50%, steadily climbing upwards. Damian made sure to pay close attentions to her body, ensuring that she did not climax. If and when she neared her peak he would simply remove the device, let her have a few seconds to cool down, then start again.

“What would Bruce think if you came right now. What would everyone you saved think of you now. What would the Joker do if he got his hands on this tape.” He whispered at her, knowing it would probably spark something in her mind. He couldn’t care less, simply wanting her to fight it, try and resist the inevitable. The mode switched up to 60%, then 70%, reaching the highest setting that she had ever reached. Again he removed it from her, toying with her, not letting her climax. He simply wanted her to nearly crave it, mentally and physically. He wanted her to have the release, seeing as the absence of it was far worse than the shame that went with the pleasure of climaxing.
Finally after nearly twenty minutes of this he switched the device to 90%, press it hard against it whilst he pointed a middle finger at her rectum and slowly slid it forwards, inching a slow crawl inside of her rear. His free hand calmly grabbed her face and forced her into the bowl, drenching her face and everything that surrounded it. He would keep the sensation against her clit until he was absolutely sure that she had passed out.

How would she deal with such a thing; the pleasure denial and control, the claiming of her rear and the drenching of her face. How would the last remaining bat deal with all of this?

RE: Why you should fear the dark

Now the vibrator came back. Batgirl let out a sob as she felt it pressed against her already aching, quivering sex, shoved against the wet lips. It began humming, and the only solace Batgirl felt was that it hadn't immediately jumped to the highest setting. Still it rubbed along her sensitive groin, pressing hard against her. More and more juices dribbled from the poor girl's sex, coating the toy with a shiny layer. The lips trembled and shook, petals fluttering. This, and the vibration hadn't even started to increase. Batgirl sobbed, realizing that despite her best efforts and training, her body was finally breaking in Damien's expert hands.

The syringe gone, and Barbara's interior muscles struggled for a moment to expunge. Barely had she that time when a finger plugged her, keeping the sloshing mixture within her hole. Then the vibrations increased, and Barbara trembled again. She shook, and within seconds was certain she would cum again. But she didn't. She didn't for Damien withdrew the device at just the right time, denying her the time. The sloshing within her rear was simply not enough to let the girl cum; she needed the toy. He's denying me orgasm? As if this isn't sick enough

As for Bruce, Barbara had no doubts there. The Batman had a steely exterior, a hard core, but he always loved and cared for his Family, something that even Damien should know. Seeing Barbara like this, he would show pity, pity and love. That might have been enough to restore Batgirl's strength, but within the same breath, Damien mentioned the Joker, and a shot of panic went to Batgirl's stomach. She struggled again, suddenly desperate for freedom. The toy increased, as did Barbara's need to cum. It rocketed upward and so did she, sometimes literally. Her hips rolled with the pressure, interiors quaking and trembling. Despite all her desires, Barbara's body craved that release. The pain of not having it was nearly as bad as the pain of repeatedly having it. No, worse in many ways. The tears would not stop flowing from Barbara's eyes, no doubt mixing with others.

Time must have passed, because Damien switched. A new finger entered Batgirl's virgin rear, pushing further and further and further within. Barely had she time to adjust to that when a hand grabbed her head. Down went the face, her own fluids soon smothering her. And all the while the toy pressed hard against her pleasure button. Batgirl screamed, desperately flailing. But she had barely begun when and orgasm seized her body, the pleasures seizing her muscles up, arching her, forcing her hips to jerk and roll. The orgasm did not seize, for the pressures did not. The liquid remained within, the toy remained stuck and harder than ever. Batgirl came in waves, one upon the other, while she sucked in great gulps of her own fluid. Within moments, that darkness she'd been waiting for would descend, cutting her off mere moments after another thunderous climax.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

Damian wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, realizing that the Batgirl was far from beaten at this point. The girl, Barbara, had been humiliated today, caving in where the cowl did not waver. He was going to fracture them both, dissolve their resolve and remake them in his image.
He calmly made his way over to the girl, checked her heart rate and pulse, then slowly undo the bindings. Every thing about her spoke of exhaustion and a deep sleep, yet he wasn’t taking any chances. He calmly lifted every piece of furniture or object out of the room, including all the bindings that she had on her. Next up he cleaned her, rubbed a cool ointment on her wounds and over stimulated areas, ensuring that they would heal properly. When the girl woke again she would find herself in another room on a small mattress, cleaned and wearing one of her many spare Batgirl suits, including the cowl. There was a small toilet there, a welded down chair and a shower head that would activate the minute you stood underneath it.

Damian did not care if the girl woke in an hour, or ten, simply giving her the time to recover without his constant assaults on her sex. She would be alone in the room for hours, yet every five minutes there would be a audio clip of one of her climaxes, letting the whole room vibrate in her orgasms, hearing her sex quiver or her moans that she could no longer resist. There was a small bowl with food next to her mattress and a small bottled shake that was similar to the one Bruce used to make for them, similar to the one Damian had given her earlier.

He would visit her a few hours later, on the twelfth hour, calmly walking into the room with a large duffle bag and a wicked grin on his face. “Did you sleep well?” He asked politely, eyes scanning her features.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

It took some time for Batgirl to arise from the darkness yet again. Her exhaustion had been so total, so complete that she lay in a coma-like stupor for several hours. Not a move, not a twitch; the only actions that came from the teenager was the steady movement of her breath. The breath proved life still lay within the young woman, but it was perhaps the only sign. Once again not even a noise passed those lips, even as Damien moved her body about, rearranging her to suit his needs.

After ten hours and a few minutes, Batgirl finally stirred. It happened during the sound of that fierce, final climax, the last one where Barbara could have made any true noise. The girl shot to consciousness, acutely aware of where she was and what happened to her body. She looked down and paused, staring in disbelief. Full uniform, the cowl, the suit, even a cape draped around her shoulders. Batgirl padded at her waist, but she was hardly surprised to see that Damien hadn't attached in toys. She supposed she should be thankful that he hadn't given her a tool belt filled with sex toys and oils and the like.

For the next few minutes, Batgirl explored the area. Moving helped stretch her tensed muscles and looking helped assuage her rampant curiosity. She rubbed her gloved hands over nearly every section of the room. When Batgirl found that the shower worked, she hesitated for a moment. Would it be worth it to undress and clean herself? She could tell that Damien had already cleaned her, likely added something too, considering how little certain... areas ached. But being cleaned and cleaning yourself were two different things. Batgirl set the thought aside for later, instead moving to examine other sections. She would be smart enough to drink the shake and nibble the food. Batgirl didn't want to fill her stomach, just in case, so she stretched the food as long as possible.

After an hour, Batgirl decided to risk the shower. She peeled away the clean suit and stood beneath the spray. Cold, hot, it didn't matter, the water blasting against her skin felt marvelous, as did removing the cowl and cape for at least those few precious moments. Barbara Gordon could enjoy a shower, even if she did have to listen to an obscene soundtrack the entire time. After some time, she'd learned to ignore it.

Then Damien returned. By then Batgirl had dressed once more, even worked her hair as best she could. Only the sparest bit of moisture still clung to the red strands, hinting toward what had happened. His question entered the air and Batgirl stared at him. "Like the dead," she said, keeping her voice flat and level. Let him take that as he will.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

“Interesting analogy, if not false and used incorrectly, seeing as I truly know what it feels to be one of the dead.” He stated calmly, taking in every aspect of her, including the wet hair. He calmly placed the duffle bag on the ground next to him and opened the zipper, pulling out the small stool again. He set it up calmly and took the seat, testing it a few times by switching his weight, yet finding a pleasant posture after a minute. He so badly wanted to kill her at this moment, snap her irritating little neck and take revenge for Bruce, yet he knew that his father wanted Damian to be better than that. The heir to Batman would need to bring home his sister, take him underneath his wing and show her the proper path in life again, both as Barbara and Batgirl.

“Bruce once told me that life is a constant choice; as climatic as life and death, black and white, good and evil, yet also more subtle things. Even captured or beaten, you have a choice, always. In light of this I have decided that your second stage of punishment is exactly that; a choice.” He let her take the words in, letting her weigh the serious tone in his voice and see the harshness behind those eyes of his. “Your choice is simply; A or B.” He told her as he placed two black boxed in front of her, each with a white letter on them. She could open them when she wanted, yet she was only allowed to pick one. Should she pick the one that said A she would find the Spider gag, handcuffs and a pair of nipple caps that would vibrate and suck at a predetermined speed. Option B would be large bottle of lubricant and a small rod that had several beads on them, each increasing in size the further it would be inserted. It too could vibrate at command.

Before she had time to open one of them he showed her a small picture of a man in a hospital, missing one hand and looking pale. “Rodrigo Merche, currently recuperating at Gotham’s finest hospital, courtesy of the local police department, housed at room 43 at the southern wing. They say he is to make a good recovery, minus the hand part. I have no doubt he will make that recovery, seeing as he will mysteriously suffocate within two hours unless the next letter I hear from you is either A or B, followed by Please, sir.”

RE: Why you should fear the dark

Batgirl was half tempted to point out that Damien had touched upon the whole point of her analogy. The words were just at the tip of her tongue, but if it was one thing that working with Nightwing had taught her, it was that there was a moment for clever quips and a moment to remain perfectly silent. This was definitely a moment for the latter. Batgirl's mouth remained closed, her blue eyes locked on Damien, reading his posture and body position for as little hint as possible.

A choice, because this whole thing had been about choices. Batgirl nearly rolled her eyes in frustration, and another quip rose upon her lips, just about to roll out into Damien's ear. It turned out that keeping her lips closed was an excellent choice. Those blue eyes were soon on a pair of boxes. They flicked from one to the other, reading the letter, taking it in, waiting. Her hands rose for a moment, waiting, hesitating, and then he spoke again.

Batgirl looked up, wondering what new twist he could possibly throw at her now. The man, the one that she had saved, if just barely. She winced at the statement, her eyes going hard, anger bubbling up again. Really? Blackmail? Perhaps he had learned from his father, if perhaps a little too well. Batgirl shifted, taking a peek at the boxes. The contents of the A were all too familiar, being most of what she'd experienced before. Those blue eyes again fell upon the nipple caps. Her breath caught for a moment, her imagination painting an all too vivid picture. Next box, other choice, what lay there. She opened it, looked inside and frowned. Lubricant and a strange rod? What the hell was that for? Batgirl could only assume that he was going to stick it into her sex. That was the only thing that really made sense to her. Her mind darted to his playing with her rear before, but that thing wouldn't fit, especially not with those beads. No, it had to be for her sex, wanting to stretch her out or whatever. It didn't matter, the moment she saw those devices for her nipples, she knew her choice had been made.

"B," she said, her eyes flicking up to her, "please, sir."

Batgirl said the words, each and every one, exactly as he insisted. Each word was fully loaded, shot out of her mouth as though she hoped to kill him with each syllable. The hard gaze she gave him only furthered that assertion. She clenched and released her hands as well, tensing and releasing her body, especially relaxing lower muscles, preparing for what she knew was to come.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

“Interesting” Damian commented, moving forwards and grabbing the box she did not want, calmly closing it and placing it back in his duffle bag. He was half hoping that the girl would attack him right there and then, his back towards her, yet she did not know the code to the door, nor was she in the same fighting league as he was. She was the better in terms of flexibility and agility, not brute force. He grabbed the same camera again and placed it on a small tripod, aiming it at her and checking the feed. “I promise you, it isn’t life, yet.” He said the last part with a sly grin, letting her know that it was meant as a prod towards her.

“Use the lubricant and oil it up properly. Feel free to use both hands and be generous on the lubricant.” He commented, fishing out a new book and finding the last page he had been on, eyes darting over the paper and seeing the paragraph he had stopped at. He glanced at her direction and spoke again, uncaring whether she used the lubricant or not, seeing as it was her own comfort she was using it for. “Position yourself on the mat, ensuring I can see the entry. If you feel around you will notice that there are two small holes in your suit, providing entry to both orifices. They should stretch adequately, yet you have my permission to stretch them out somewhat.” He nodded and waited for her to comply, stopping her if she were to aim the object at her womanhood and not her rear.

“You are to insert it within your rectum, inserting and pulling back again, in a tempo that pleases me. Should I see you linger a moment, try to fake or supress something, I shall get up and check on our dear patient, as promised.” He then leaned back against the wall, comfortably sitting on the stool and reading his book. He would switch on the vibrations at 10% after the first five minutes, then another 10% every five minutes, yet never higher than 80%. He was using this test to see how sensitive she was in this area, comparing it to his other data.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

Use the lubricant on the device. Gee, she never would have thought of doing that if he hadn't suggested it. Batgirl moved to do precisely that, taking out the long toy and studying it closely as she did. It was long, but not perhaps as thick as the thickest member she'd taken. The thicker portions might be rounder, but Batgirl supposed her sex would prove flexible enough. Babies were supposed to go through there at some point.

At any rate, Batgirl had to lubricate. And she did so, rubbing the toy down with both gloved hands, trying not to think about the strange fluid all over her fingers. For that matter, Batgirl had no idea what this mysterious fluid was actually made of. It felt and smelled like some kind of massage oil, but she didn't see any label or anything to give it away. It certainly gave the toy an oily sheen. Within seconds, even before Damien gave his next instructions, the toy was slick enough that Batgirl had some difficulty keeping it in her hands, even with the gloves.

Then a position, which Batgirl could manage. Doubtless he wanted her on her knees, her rear pointed toward him. As for the comment about holes, Batgirl hadn't noticed. She reached down now, accidentally smearing a little oil just above her sex. Her questing fingers located a weakness in the fabric eventually and she pulled, letting it part and bare her still tight nether lips to the world. Batgirl worked for a few moments at it, before lowering the toy toward her nether lips.

And he stopped her. Batgirl froze, her head twisting to look at him, shock and anger again bubbling up into those eyes. Into her... really? He really wanted her to? "You're insane," she spat, unable to completely keep the words down. He'd already promised that if she didn't, worse things would happen. She couldn't even suppress, though Batgirl didn't see how he would tell. She took a deep breath, lowered her head, pinched her eyes shut, and aimed the toy. The rounded head swirled about her clenched rosebud, smearing the lubricant all around the clenching muscle. Batgirl took a deep breath and pushed, inching the toy into her. Within seconds she was groaning, raising her hand up to smother the noise, nearly biting into her glove. Her eyes watered at the sensation, the fullness pressing against her, filling her and reminding her.

"Damien, it's not going in," she told him, her voice hard. She twisted and looked back, feeling her ass clench. She tried pushing again, but her tight muscles clamped. She took a deep, shuddering breath and pushed hard, sliding two beads within. The girl let out a gasp and shuddered, lowering her head and whimpering. This was too much; she bit her lip, she struggled, she couldn't fight.

RE: Why you should fear the dark

“We have all day, my dear.” He simply commented as he turned to another page, reading a quotation from Alfred that left him wondering about whether it was true or not. He grabbed the controller and switched on the vibrations in the toy, then grabbing the temperature control of the room and raising it by a few degrees, making it slightly warmer, yet not to noticeable at first. “Already three in, like a champ. Only seven more to go.” He stated whilst not paying attention to her. He doubted few people could manage all ten, seeing as they truly grew bigger and bigger per bead, yet he did not want her to know that.

He switched the setting even higher, ignoring any and all comment she might make, then another setting higher. It wasn’t until she was at 40% that he came up with an idea. “Be honest… is this task to much to handle?” He calmly inquired, waiting for her to answer. He guessed that the answer would be yes, but he would still do the same action if she were to say no. He gave he the instruction to remove the beads and remain in the position she was in, using both hands to keep spread apart her cheeks. He would then move towards her and tease the hole with a digit before sliding the tip of a small funnel inside of her rectum, having oiled it up beforehand.

If the girl complained he simply reminded her of the man in the hospital before continuing. “Now, carefully describe in detail what you are feeling during this next bit.” He said, holding the bottle of warm oil above the funnel and slowly let it pour down, falling into the funnel and into her rear. He would keep her still with either command or arm to keep her in place, ensuring that nearly half the bottle was emptied inside of her. He then asked her again to tell him what it felt like before removing the funnel from her and placing the first bead back inside her rear, trapping the warm oil inside of her. “Now, continue.”

RE: Why you should fear the dark

Three? She only had three fucking beads in? Batgirl's ass felt completely full, as though the beads were going to start knocking against one another any moment, which she knew was impossible. Worse, that fourth one kept hitting the rim of her ass and stopping. The muscles clenched tighter than ever whenever Batgirl pushed, and as she said, no amount of pushing on her part was causing the thing to move in the slightest. No sooner had she realized this than Batgirl felt the vibrations start. Those blue eyes went wide as Batgirl wondered how long that had been happening. It kicked up a notch and she released the toy entirely, both gloved hands clenching into tight fists. She took several deep breaths. He had said she could show whatever was happening, which had been fine with Batgirl... when it had been pain. Now though, now she felt that pressure and vibration shooting directly to her sex. sending warmth and other signals that she simply couldn't believe. Batgirl would not cum from having a toy shoved up her ass.

"It's too much!" she said, pouncing on the question, even as she realized that something worse could be around the corner. Let him attach more clamps to her; Batgirl could take the pain. She should have chosen the pain to begin with. What had she been thinking? That no sane person would try to shove beads up someone's ass. Just as that thought crossed her mind, a new instruction came. Batgirl worked the beads, only able to remove them by focusing her muscles. Her rear spat each bead out, and as it did, she blushed. At least they were gone. She wouldn't cum, at least, not yet.

Then hold her... he couldn't be serious. No, this was Damien; he never wasn't serious. Batgirl held her cheeks, figuring that it couldn't be worse. It was. A funnel, a little hole, and then a bottle and an order. "Uh, it feels like you're about to drug me," she told him, knowing it was a taunt. "Like you're about to pour something down my---what the hell!?" Batgirl twisted, trying to look back. Something warm had slid into the tight interior of her rear. She could feel it sloshing within her, the warmth spreading throughout her torso. She began to move but a barked command made her freeze. "It feels like you're filling my... my... my ass with some kind of warm, gah," she trembled and bit her lip, lowering her head, her face flushed. More entered, and Batgirl could swear her stomach was filled with the sloshing stuff. More telling? "It feels like my guts are filled with warm oil," she told him. Her stomach gurgled threateningly and she felt the muscles of her rear fight. She took a deep breath and bent, figuring that he wanted her to fight to hold this. Instead, the beat pressed against her, pressed and popped within without any struggle, nearly plugging Batgirl's ass.

"No," came out of her lips without thinking, she twisted and looked. There was the beaded wand, sticking out of her ass like some kind of obscene fan. She swallowed hard, reached a gloved hand back and tried to work. A second bead popped within; the third. Then came the fourth, pushing and rolling against her hole. The muscles clenched, her stomach burbled, but this time, Batgirl clenched her jaw. If she didn't do this, who knew what Damien would do. She flexed, she let out a moan, and the fourth bead popped into her insides. And the toy stuck. Her muscles clamped, she felt the oil sloshing within, trapped by beads, and her tight ass had clamped. That warmth spread within her, seeping to her sex.

Why the hell is this turning me on so much? It's beads and crap in my ass! Oh God, no, no, no, no, do I have some kind of ass fetish? He can't know! God, Damien could do all sorts of things to you if he finds out, Babs, you can't let him. Say whatever it takes but do not cum from having shit in your ass.

Damian was back in his seat, calmly observing the woman in the room and occasionally glancing at his book. He might look calm and composed, yet he had a dozen thoughts and calculations going on at once; observing her breathing, posture, sweat production, colour of her skin, the tightness in her toes and fingers, etc. The young man did everything his father had taught him, although for a different reason. He knew that his father would understand; accept that his son was taking a different approach in life, seeing as he himself had failed. He would take up the mantle of the bat and cast an even larger shadow on the city, yet from it, create justice.

“How much would the average criminal pay for this footage; seen the batwhore moan and groan as she claims her own ass, even climaxing with oil in her own rear. Fuck, I think some heroes would even pay a penny to see this footage, seeing as they crave that tight little rear of yours.” He smiled at that, flipping towards the next page and scanning the first sentence. He would wait as long as five minutes for the girl to comment, otherwise simply increasing the percentage. The minute she spoke he would up it another 20%, making it no doubt be overwhelming. If and when she came, Damian would simply ignore her, intent on watching her from the side-lines and seeing her collapse. The second she tried to remove the object from her rear, he would simply comment about killing the man in the hospital. Her fate was an unending orgasm that would claim every orifice.

“All of this came be over within a second if you speak the next phrase; Batgirl… is.. a.. whore..”

He guessed that she would probably never wish to say this, yet it would also mean another orgasm from her rear, staining the honour of Batgirl with each climax whilst wearing the cowl. She was given a choice by Damian; Destroy the Batgirl in one sentence, or see it slowly corrupted into something she fears.
It did not matter if she spoke the words or not, seeing as he would increase the speed anyway, turning that tense body of hers into a thrashing object, no doubt producing moans and groans that would turn out to be sweet music on the recording.

That toy, still stuck, still wedged in the tight confines of Batgirl's ass, that toy vibrated. Batgirl had just been about to claim that she wouldn't climax from having her ass taken, that she outright couldn't, but just as her mouth parted to say those very words, to prove Damien wrong, her body betrayed her. Pleasure shot from ass to sex, releasing a little stream of girlish cum yet again. Interior walls clamped and shook, muscles tensing. The sudden tension sucked at the beaded toy within, sliding it up and down the clamping tunnel of Batgirl's rear. For a moment, it almost appeared as though another bead would pop inside the young heroine. The pressure alone was enough to make her let out a throaty moan, the very type of moan that Damien no doubt desperately wanted to hear from her.

And she could still feel the oil sloshing within her, sluicing about in her insides, making them slicker than ever. "Is that the plan, Damien? Make embarrassing videos and sell them on the Internet?" Batgirl taunted. As a reward for her valiant effort, the toy's vibrations kicked up. Again she gasped, her fingers splaying, scrambling for purchase. Those interior muscles clamped, forcing. Batgirl could feel her body attempting to reject the toy within. Yet she had not lied when she claimed that it had gotten stuck within her. It would take quite a bit of effort for Batgirl to expunge it, and she had a feeling that it would take her hands as well. But there was no way Damien would allow it. Instead, Batgirl felt her stomach grumble, the pressure slamming down on her sex, ramping up her arousal yet again.

Then a way out, another dangling option presented to the Batgirl. Her blue eyes looked to him, hoping that it would be easy. But the words were said, and Batgirl heard each one. So the choice was to bodily betray or verbally. "Really?" said Batgirl, chuckling. "That's your brilliant plan? Shove something in my," she had to pause, close her mouth, take a few breaths, "shove something in me and then try to coerce me to say something? Tough shit, Damien," she looked at the man who had stolen the cowl, her eyes saying the words: You can break the body, but you won't break the will. "That is something a pretender to the cowl would," she'd gotten that much, but the toy trembled and Batgirl had to hiss, clenching her body, desperately fighting the bodily sensations, fighting the losing battle, for already that burning warmth was spreading throughout her loins, threatening to release itself in quite the display. Batgirl even knew that the more she resisted, the more fierce that eventual eruption. But what could she do?

What could she do?

“It is not the plan, little bat.” He said soothingly as he closed the book and stood up, slowly making his way over towards her with the stool, placing it down to her side, the duffle bag at his side. “It is merely entertainment for me, something to keep me occupied. Besides, the shame in your eyes is evident enough, even if your voice tells me otherwise.” He placed a hand on the back of her head when she began to spit those venomous words at him, telling him things that only a traitor would. He slowly traced a line over her spine downwards, teaching the edges of her spine and no doubt producing unwanted jolts of sensation within her core.

“You know what is your problem?” He mused slowly, eyes and ears fixed upon her frame and memorising every moan, groan or shudder she was making. “You try so hard to be worthy of the cowl, perhaps harder than even Nightwing had ever done, yet you will always come short; remain little batgirl, the whore and traitor.” He moved his hand even further downwards and placed it against the device within her rear, grabbing the end and slowly wiggle it up and down whilst applying pressure, keeping it at the point of nearly entering her whilst the beats already inside of her were rubbing against her walls even harder.

“I was born the heir; raised since birth to surpass the old man. The fact that you are here on your knees, moaning from something in your rear, speaks volumes about your worthiness of the cowl. You only have your pride and the illusion that Bruce saw something more in you than just pity.” He let her have a few minutes to either catch her breath or retort, then he would act. “But let us test that pride of yours. I dare you to no climax at my hand. I dare you to be worthy of the cowl. I dare you to attack me and best me. I dare you to not shame the city by having another bead shoved inside of you. I dare you to not further shame Bruce’s memory of you!” He said the last part with a bark, grabbing something from his bag and throwing it in front of the girl.

The minute she would recognise the thing as Bruce’s old Cowl was the minute she would find another bead being inserted inside of her, the vibrations switching to 80% and Damian’s left index and middle finger slowly entering her womanhood whilst his left thumb was tracing circles over her clitoris. She wouldn’t have any chance to resist the inevitable, seeing as Damian was now actively participating. He was going to make her cum, so hard and powerful, it would nearly shatter her as a person, then keep her at that peak and not allowing her to feel anything other than powerful thrashes that assaulted her body. “How proud do you think Bruce is now.” He would whisper in her ear occasionally, seconds later forcing his digits to move even faster. He would make her fear his hands worse than the toys inside of her. The toys brought a degrading pleasure, yet Damian was corruptive and alive; the person who was doing this to her. He had bits of himself inside of her.

Great, he's inherited his father's ability to read people. Batgirl should have guessed as much; Damien had inherited much from his father. His build, his skills, his drive, his... good looks; not that Barbara was interested in that last part. She just wasn't blind. Nor was she numb; she could feel his fingers running along the edge of her spine, no doubt feeling the tension that lay just beneath his touch, waiting to explode violently.

Try so hard; that nearly made Batgirl chuckle. "And you don't?" she retorted, managing to just get the words out before his fingers found the toy still embedded within her ass. He wiggled it, and Batgirl could feel it pushing against the sides of her tight anal channel. She could feel the vibrations coursing along her sensitive flesh. Damien's slight touch had made an already difficult struggle painful to maintain. That pain shot up that arched spine, rebounded all over Batgirl's body, hitting her loins and reverberating back as pleasure. Pleasure spiked with pain spread throughout, threatening to intoxicate Batgirl and rob her of her will in ways that super villains would have dreamed of managing for years.

And as Batgirl entered that weakened state, Damien struck. He struck with words, but it was a strike that drew blood. Damien was born; Batgirl struggled. And now he dared her to be worthy, not to shame, dared her even as he made it impossible for her to do otherwise. She'd already told him that she couldn't remove the toy from her pulsing ass. The tight muscles had only clamped all the harder. If anything, she was going to pull that thing deeper within the confines of her body. What choice did she really have?

A cowl, a mask, a reminder fell into Batgirl's vision. She turned her eyes down, seeing it, almost seeing the man behind it. No sooner had Batgirl sworn to be worthy than she felt Damien moving behind her. The rod within her slid forward, another bead pushing against her ring. Batgirl hissed, tensing, knowing she had to fight. But fingers descended, playing with her sex. Those skilled digits wasted no time in parting the wet folds. Batgirl felt them upon her sensitive flesh, felt them questing deep within. Petals parted to reveal that nub, and circles of sensation formed about it. Batgirl was certain that Damien had only touched; she would have felt worse if he had done more. But little explosions fired from her sex, blasting against her. They'd barely begun when the device had kicked higher. It went to that painful vibrating height, shaking up Batgirl's insides. It felt like the toy shook her entire body, causing it to jolt and quake. Batgirl was certain that her lower body had been reshaped, formed about that reverberating toy, that same toy that shook the entire channel of her nether regions.

To Batgirl's astonishment, she didn't climax, not immediately. She gasped, she tensed, she felt the cresting wave of unstoppable pleasure cresting deep within, but she still fought. She clenched her teeth, clenched her abs, clenched her bowels; she fought Damien with every inch of her available body and will. So that by the time his words fell upon her ears, she was simply tight, wound even further.

Damien no doubt realized. His fingers increased. Batgirl could hear the wet sloshing of her nether lips providing him with the moisture. That sound mixed with her own heavy breathing, mixed with the groans that bubbled up from deep within. The smell of her own arousal, the thick odor of feminine want, hung heavy in the air. With each breath, each hard breath drawn through clenched teeth, that Batgirl took, she tasted her own desire. Damien had worked her body effortlessly; not even Batman could have withstood.

The wave crashed; Batgirl screamed. The orgasm tore through her body. It shredded the old tension, creating new. Muscles that Batgirl hadn't even known she possessed trembled and shook. The vibrations caused a bead to pop from the trembling, quaking asshole. That new sensation only caused further stimulation, caused Batgirl to cry out sharply. Her sex received that cry as though it were a command. Juices splattered from her, spraying over Damien's fingers and no doubt landing as they would. Those interior walls kept shivering and quaking, sucking in the digits and gripping them tight even as they expelled the fluid signs of Batgirl's own climax. The sheer intensity of it rocked Batgirl, sending her body into trembles and shakes. she tried to grab onto something, anything, to struggle against whatever held her, to find relief. But why relief from this pleasure? This intense pleasure that washed over her mind and replaced conscious thought with sheer, unadulterated want.

The pleasure would suddenly subside, or at least the part that was created by his digits. He simply stood up, removed his flesh from her folds and used his slippery fingers to undo any constraints that held her in place. What would be worse than being brought to climax against your will? Damian knew it wouldn’t be enough to break the poor girl, yet her body would no doubt react to it, or protest a bit at the lack of an ending. He watched her for another few seconds before he grabbed his things and left the room, leaving her on the ground, filled from behind. The dozens of recording devices in the room would no doubt take in what she was about to do, whether it was keep it in place, remove it or ‘use’ it. She would be left alone for the rest of the day, only stepping inside to bring her food and fresh water now and again.

He wanted her to recover at least partially, seeing as she would be put to the test in a few hours. Come nightfall the batgirl would be making her patrols again, yet all the while playing a delicious game. The screens in her room would be displaying the recordings of her previous sessions with Damian, including every climax she has had during all of it. Occasionally she would see a clip of Damian’s cock spilling out fresh seed and pouring it in a canister, seconds later mixing it with the liquid she had been drinking for the past few days. Damian wasn’t a cruel man, yet he couldn’t help himself with this one, seeing as it would no doubt irritate the girl beyond belief, at least mentally. How would she deal with the knowledge that she had Damian’s essences inside of her.

He had slowly let a sleeping agent seep into the room just three hours before she was to be released, nothing noticeable at first, yet overtime it would induce the desire to sleep, finally forcing it. When she woke she would find herself outside on her back on top of a large building. Her body would smell and feel fresh, no doubt Damian had cleaned her properly. She was dressed in her Batgirl’s costume, although it did feel one size to small on her. A recording device was fastened around both her wrists and one around her neck, yet not so large that they lessened her movements. All of this might have felt ‘comfortable’ had it not been for the feeling within her rear and womanhood. She was wearing a form of chastity belt that had two small rods inserted inside of her. The minute she would try to undo it was the minute she would feel an intense shock through her entire body. The same thing also happened when she tried to remove or tamper with one of the recording devices. The rods inside of her felt very flexible and were very thing, almost causing no discomfort at all. Damian was grinning behind his computer, hovering a finger above the controls, knowing her slowly inflate them, cause them to either lengthen or widen, not to mention fibrate as well. He was going to have so much fun with her today, letting her fight crime whilst also fighting her own body.

“Good evening Batgirl. I thought it was high time you got to stretch your legs somewhat, fight crime, be a good person and all. For now, any communication device you might have had one you is removed, the sensors on your neck and wrists blocking any signal besides my own. I will be monitoring you at all time and will intervene if you deviate from my rules. You are not to contact any outside help, try and remove your attire or do anything else that might expose your predicament. You will have ten minutes per task and will be rewarded or punished when you fail or win one. For now let us go with something easy.

There is robbery going on in a nearby jewellery, located just 1 mile south of you, near the old bridge. You are to take them down within ten minutes, starting… now.”

Barbara's body nearly made her whimper as she felt the digits leaving her flesh. She took several gasping breaths, feeling the aftershocks of her climax still shaking her battered body. Her sex felt soaked, still quivering, now ever so empty, unlike her ass, which burned with sensation. her muscles had clamped so hard onto the beaded toy that Barbara could feel several shoved within, and she had a feeling that her tight rear had practically sucked up several more. As soon as Damien left, Barbara weakly reached back, swiping to try and get it. To her dismay, she found that the top had sunk beneath her cheeks. She had to flex her already aching muscles, attempting to propel the toy from her rear in a manner that humiliated her to her core. At least after a few inches, Barbara could grab on and pull. But then the sensation of the toy running along her heated skin nearly sent her into more tremors; she had to stop halfway through to take a break and several more sucking breaths.

Food, drink, rest, though unconsciousness might be a little better suited. Barbara didn't care about the screens; she could block out their noise easily enough. That wasn't even much more of a torture, not any more. The clip of seeing him mixing his seed with her drink did cause her disgust. Barbara nearly emptied the contents of her stomach, but quickly steeled herself. She'd need that, and it wasn't like he wasn't going to force worse down her. His seed would be more protein, really, and for all she knew, he was doing that just to fuck with her. She wasn't going to give him more than she could help.

Then her relaxation turned into unconsciousness again; Batgirl hardly cared. In fact, she was almost surprised when she awoke and found herself Batgirl again. For a few seconds, she wondered if she'd just had some sort of strange dream. her chest and sex still felt tight, after all, and she knew, just knew, that Damien couldn't be around, not any more. But as soon as Batgirl felt around for her uniform parts, she realized that things were different. This had to be an old uniform, because it certainly didn't fit, nor had her utility belt hung like this. She could also feel something sticking inside her body, and she couldn't help but groan in frustration. It hadn't been a dream, which meant that Damien had cleaned her up, redressed her, and stuck something inside her for his pleasure. She wasn't even going to try to remove it, instead trying to see what he had lefth er to work with.

"Fuck you, Damien," she spat as the word cackled in her mouth. "What the fuck makes you think I'm going to play your sick little games? Because you tease me a little? You're going to screw me over anyway, and you should know by now that we never play along with a villain when we know the outcome in advance," she held up her hand, staring. Could she just rip it off anyway? escape? She did have the know-how.

"So you want to torture me? Fine. But I'm not playing your games," she said. She began pacing, looking around her area and looking over what she had. What had he left her. Where had he left her. What could she use. something, something had to be useful.

She could hear a chuckle from the recording device, Damian not even bothering to hide his mirth from her. He would let her have her little moment of pondering on what to do before he acted. Let her take in the scenery, her attire, the positioning of the moon and stars.

‘Bang’

She could no doubt recognise the sound as a 50 calibre weapon being fired, the sound emanating from the device on her body. “What I have is a 50 calibre sniper rifle, harvested from one of father’s mementos, yet still as deadly as ever. What you have is eight minutes and eleven seconds before I reposition and take down another thug in town, seeing as your disregard for my rules as cost you one live already.” He commented casually before switching off the communication device, allowing him to listen to her, yet she could not communicate further.

What would she do when the minutes began to tick down, the seconds becoming rare and precious. Had Damian killed someone? Who had he killed? When would he kill again? Who would he kill next? Thoughts like that would no doubt pop up in her mind. She knew that Damian lacked the restraints that his father had taught him. Those had died off when Bruce had died. He had already chopped up someone’s hand, or at least that is what she knew so far.

His eyes watched the screen and he was drawing circles around the button that would increase her suffering.