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Nothing to Fear (Maiesiobreed and Arcturus)

ArcturusMagnus

Super-Earth
Joined
Dec 28, 2011
Location
Time
It was a dark winter night in Gotham. Snow blustered down the streets in white flurries, and the lamps dully lit the roads below. In the distance a police siren sounded, though it was fading away, not drawing closer. Criminals were like fleas in Gotham. No matter how many you managed to pick off, there were always more somewhere else. The police were simply unable to be everywhere at once. "Like chickens with their heads cut off."

This was fortunate for one Doctor Crane, known in the underworld as the Scarecrow. A more peaceful city, one where the criminal underbelly did not mask the actions of a lone man, would have proven far more difficult. Then again, those peaceful cities did not have do-gooders such as the Batman and his network of cronies. Their lot made his actions - and the actions of those like him - quite a bit more difficult.

No matter, however. He had something now which would put any of them out of the way, should they decide to stick their noses in on what he was doing.

Reaching into his pocket, Scarecrow produced a small capsul and tossed it around the corner, to where he knew a security guard was standing. The man made a startled noise as the capsul detonated in a puff of grey-blue smoke. Before the man could react, however, the deed was done. He fell to the ground, unconcious. His brows, however, were knit together, and a look of terror was etched onto his face. Grinning, Scarecrow continued onward.

"Here it is now," he said quietly to himself. Secreted at the back of the chamber was an ancient talisman from the depths of old Europe. Few knew how to use the powers within. Crane was one of those few.
 
"Another night, another dollar. What do we have down here?" Barbara Gordon, aka Batgirl said, as she looked through her "batnoculars" and picked up a downed figured through the heat sensing lenses. It was down in Gotham Museum, and she saw a rather spindly figure creeping through the hallways, moving towards a wing of European antiquities. "Hmmm most likely Crane judging from the body type, the only other person with that tiny frame would be Joker, and this just isn't his style."

Swinging down from the skyscraper she scrambed into the museum from a window that had already been broken. The redhead easily scrambled down into the cool marble floor...sure she wasn't as strong as Batman or even Robin, but she more than made up for her lack of super strength with agility. Her 5'6 body was hardened and trained through years of fighting crime, housed lovingly in her purple spandex jumpsuit. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her body, something she was extremely proud of, and her well endowed chest jiggled seductively as she rounded a corner. She loved her body, she took such great care of it and fretted for days if she detected an ounce of weight gained. She looked at the downed guard she had spotted in the batnoculars, he was alive but he was moaning in his sleep, definitely from a nightmare. Yep, it was Scarecrow, and she spotted him in a seperate wing. She flipped into the center of the room and laughed....

"Don't you ever get bored of being caught all the time Crane? I'm getting sick of sending you back to Arkham each month," She said, clenching her fists.
 
Scarecrow had just taken hold of the talisman, a smile coming onto his face, hidden by the mask which he wore, when he heard a voice behind him. It was a voice which he had heard far too often for his liking, and it was also a voice which quickly diminished the sinister grin which had spread across his features. It did not, however, wipe that grin entirely from his visage. Crane was still quite certain that he could give any of the caped crusaders a run for theri money these days. Especially the young Batgirl.

"Not at all, Batgirl," he said, turning his thin frame around to face her. In his left hand, the talisman dangled from an old iron chain, the links clinking heavily together as it swung. "I used to work there, if you'll recall. It's always so nice to see what sort of changes have been made." Not that it ever made a difference. Years of working within those walls had given him a knowledge of the inns and outs of the asylum, and he knew how to get out. There were ways in and out which few knew of, and which Crane took advantage of.

"I won't be going back this time, however," continued the Scarecrow. He had begun to almost casually twist the old artifact on its chain, his figners twining into the metal, like he was preparing for Batgirl to try and snatch it away. The reality, however, was that his figners were twisting in an intricate pattern, one that was required for a certain spell to take effect.

"Do you ever want to have children, Batgirl?" Crane casually inquired, his hand twisted into the chain, the talisman swinging gently from side to side.
 
"Well no offense Crane, but I really think it's time for you to get a new gig, maybe spruce up that old mask of yours, it's looking a little ratty I dare say," Barbara said, laughing to herself as she approached the spindly thief. "I've seen you under that hood before, you're not terrible looking, you're just insane. Maybe arkham can take care of that for you this time."

As she approached him she saw Crane fondling what looked like a very old amulet in his hands. She cringed her eyes, it didn't look like much but it was probably very expensive. She clicked a button on her utility belt and she smiled at Crane. The button enabled a special camera on her belt to record what happens next.

"You will most certainly be going back to Arkham. Hand it over and let's make this easy," she motioned to the amulet. "kids? What kind of a question is that? For your information I don't want any children you sicko," she saud, shivering at the thought of some snotty nosed brats hanging off of her...not to mention being a stereotypical pregnant whale for nine months.
 
"Not even just one?" Crane asked her. He was grinning beneath the hood once more. He had found exactly what he could use against her. "You do not like the idea of having children to care for? Or maybe it is the pregnancy itself which is so appaling to you."

He had begun to rock the amulet more rapidly, so that it swung in wide arcs. "I would hazard a guess that you are afraid of being pregnant, Batgirl!" declared the Scarecrow, a hint of madness creeping into his voice. "You're scared about what it would do to you."

At that moment he let his fingers slid through the chains, creating an intricate knot within the links. A light flared from the talisman, blinding the camera which Batgirl had activated. At that moment, Crane reached into his coat and pulled out one of his fear capsules and, with a well-placed throw, landed it at Batgirl's feet.

The talisman worked much like his own capsules, but with so much more power, so much more realism. That bright flash of light, with Batgirl staring right at him, would be her undoing. Ancient Europe ahd been full of terrors, but none so bad as those of the mind itself. The talisman made your terrors seem to come alive. A terrible dream so life-like that only the truley unafraid could resist. Crane grinned, and a maniacle laugh escaped from his thin frame. He had her this time!

"But this time," he said with a grin. "I know how to make the dream come true."
 
"Scared? That's a laugh Crane. I think you should leave the joking up to the Joker, it's just not your style and I think you should drop it," she said with a laugh, trying to erase the nervous edge to her voice. The truth of the matter was she detested pregnancy, she cringed whenever one of her friends told her about a new "bundle of joy" they were going to welcome into the world.

It was definitely the reason she kept herself so fit and practiced such safe sex. Children just weren't in the cards for her. She shuddered at the thought of waddling around with a huge belly and equally huge breasts. It definitely went back to when she was a child and her mothers friend had visited. She had been nine months pregnant and had tried to get Barbara to feel the child kick. She remembered the woman moaning as the baby kicked her bladder...she had run away.it always stuck with her.

"Thats just fools talk...arghhhhh!" Barbara cried out as the staff sent out a blinding light. She heard him laughing as she rubbed her painfully dilated eyeballs. The scent of his fear capsule invaded her nostrils and her brain started to slip away, as well as her unconscious. She was slipping into one if his nightmares...how could she have been so stupid.

Her mind snapped back after a bright light. She heard nothing. This was not going to be good.
 
"Miss? Miss, are you alright?"

It was a voice which Barbara Gordon would find familiar. One that had been cackling as a bright light shone. It was the voice of Crane. Instead of insanity, humor and derision, hwoever, the voice was filled with concern.

"Miss, please."

Another voice, even more familiar than Crane's, sounded over his. It was her father, concern very apparent in his voice as he asked urgently about his daughter.

"She's coming around, Commissioner," came Crane's voice once more. "I think she just took a bad step. You know, the Lithuanians believed that this amulet has magical properties. Maybe she was affected." The last was said with a bit of humor. "Come now, miss Gordon, up you get!"

A pair of hands wrapped around each of Barbara's and brought her to her feet. On her left was her father, and on the right was Crane. He was no longer in the devilish costume of teh Scarecrow, however. The man was dressed in a suit, and had an ID hanging from the lapel. It labeled him as a garcon at the museum.

"Maybe one of the babies kicked," he said, smiling first at Barbara, and then at the Commissioner. "Probably hard to guess which one, though. Triplets and all."
 
"Babies? Triplets? Kicks? Ughhhh....what is happening?" Barbara groaned to herself as she heard her father's voice in the museum. Her brain was becoming more clear, the last thing she had remembered, or she thought she had remembered, was facing off against Crane and then everything went back. Now she was on her back, in the museum, and she felt a horrific weight on her stomach and chest, almost like someone was sitting on her. She felt her father touch her on the head and she smiled, she loved her daddy and his touch was reassuring, maybe it had been just a dream.

"Hmmphhh what happened? I passed out daddy? Why is someone sitting on my stomach?" She said, groggily, as she started to come too.

"Someone sitting on your stomach? My dear, those three children have been sitting IN your stomach for the past eight months. Did you hit your head, are you sure you're alright?" Barbara heard her father say...and her eyes snapped open. Her mouth was agape, making little meek squeeking noises as she looked at what he was referring to. She was no longer wearing her Batsuit, but a hideous pink dress. That wasn't what was freaking her out though, it was the gigantic pink orb that was under that dress. She was massively pregnant, so much so that if her father and the museum employee didn't help her up she never would have been able to get off the floor. Tentatively she placed a hand on her stomach, it most certainly wasn't fat....it was too hard for that. What....what was in it?

"Oh my god....I'm pregnant," She groaned to herself, as whatever was in her kicked and squirmed within her. She was massively pregnant, so much so that she had to arch her back just to stay up. "Da...Daddy...how many are in me? What happened?" She asked, looking over at her father and then at the employee....she cried out!

"Daddy it's Crane! Arrest him!" She yelled, moaning to herself as one of the children kicked her hard.
 
Barbara's father frowed at her, her confusion worrying him. "Barbara, are you sure you're alright?" he asked her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You know Mister Crane. He's been a curator here for years. We just had him over for dinner last week."

"She's probably still groggy from the fall, sir," Crane offered with a reassuring smile. Leaning in, he whispered something about hormones and how tempermental being pregnant made women. Gordon nodded, but still looked concerned. "Maybe she should sit down for a moment. I can get her something to drink."

Gordon nodded, leading Barbara over to a bench on the side of the wall as Crane headed off. As he did he spoke to other people, men and women in suits and fine dresses. No doubt Barbara recognized many of them, the well-to-do in Gotham city.

"Commissioner Gordon!" came a voice from the side, and Bruce Wayne appeared at their side. His smile wavered a little when he saw Barbara. "I didn't think you would come out tonight, Barbara," he said to her. Gordon looked uncomfortable.

Without warning another woman arrived, also greeting Gordon, and giving Barbara a look. "I didn't think you would keep them, after what happened," she said, sounding very catty. Gordon made an affronted sound, and the woman was quickly dismissed.

"Here you are, Barbara," said Crane, who had appeared once more with a cold bottle of water. "Are you sure you'll be alright? That was a pretty bad fall that you had there."
 
She's wearing this by the way (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HM-c6WLmIR0/TC4XGbU791I/AAAAAAAAAVs/yXCIRutwszY/s1600/kate-shower-dress.jpg)

Barbara groaned to herself as she sat down, her heavily pregnant stomach sinking deeply between her shapely thighs. She started to explore her huge stomach with both hands, feeling movement coming from almost every inch, also at different moments in time. She was definitely pregnant with more than one child and this blasted maternity dress was doing nothing to hide it. It was frilly and pink and it showed off her entire belly, plus a tremendous amount of cleavage. She was definitely a DD now, it was impossible to hide it!

"Daddy...who....who did this to me?" She stammered, looking down at her ruined body. She didn't even have a boyfriend in her own life, who would have fucked her and made her this pregnant? Her answer was revealed at that second when Bruce came in and gave her a cold stare. It was him! She wanted to get up and rip his balls off, but unfortunately she was just too huge to do so. To her humiliation her nipples decided to get rock hard at his site as well...damnit...this body still craved for him.

She struggled to get up from her bench and waddled over to the rude woman that had said that within earshot of her. It was so hard to walk now, her massive belly got in the way of everything and she could feel it swaying from side to side with each step. She hated being so unagile.

"Who are you and how dare you say something to me like that. Why did you say that?" She said, trying to keep her temper. She needed answers to what had happened to her!
 
The woman took a step back as Barbara came up upon her, making way for the young woman's huge belly. She took a moment to look affronted, and looked for a moment like she would not even bother answering. No doubt, however, she could not resist rubbing it in the young woman's face.

"I am chairwoman of the Gothan Historical Society," she said at last. "I had thought for certain that you would not keep those." She gestured with a slight tilt of her head at Barbara's huge belly. "Especially considering the scandal that it caused." She glanced over at Bruce Wayne, who was now conversing with some other people.

"At first everybody thought it was just a boyfriend. When Wayne came out and said it was him." She gave a cocky sort of grin. "I don't blame you for keeping them now, not when he's the father. You're going to get rich off of just the child support. Maybe I ought to try and get in the sack with him, huh?"

With that she was off again, caught up in conversation with a familiar face. "Miss Gordon," came Crane's voice again, still holding onto the bottle of water, long, awkward strides bringing him up a few steps short of Barbara. "Please don't let them get to you. This is supposed to be a fun night. A big new exhibit and everything. I really thought you would like to see... That's why I asked your father so often about it."
 
"Crane, you bastard....I don't know what you're doing but get me out of this dream and get me out now! I do not want to be pregnant anymore, I don't want to have these children in me, I don't want to be wearing this stupid pink dress, and I don't want to be having Bruce's kids!" She cried out, looking at him with a threatening glance, though maybe it was more of a pleading glance. At that point however Bruce walked by and put his hand on her belly, making the children kick. Nobody in the party saw it, but she felt herself gasp and her nipples throb with need...god damnit, not onlly had Bruce apparently knocked her up and left her, but she was still attracted to him! That was painfully evident by the dampness that was accumulating between her thighs and her nipples that were sticking out of her pink dress.

"Thanks for waddling into the bathroom a few minutes ago and sucking me off babe, I needed that. You even swallowed, I loved that," Bruce whispered into her ear and she shuddered...not in disgust, but in need. Fuck, she had to get away. She waddled away from him, her huge breasts swaying in her dress. She found Crane and pulled him to the side of the room.

"Crane, Scarecrow, whatever your name is, change me the fuck back! I don't want this life, I don't want this body, you have too!" She yelled, as he just looked at her and smiled. Something clicked in her head though, something she didn't like. "Wait....what exhibit are you talking about?" She said, a hand on her stomach, a sinking feeling enveloping her for a reason she couldn't quite comprehend.
 
Crane simply smiled at Barbara yelled at him. This was her dream after all. Her nightmare. The real Crane, Scarecrow, had no idea that Barbara Gordon was Batgirl. He couldn't recognize her outside of her costume.

"A very fine new exhibit," Crane said to her. Taking Barbara by the arm, he lead her back around the corner. "We never thought that the museum would have the opportunity to display such a rare and unusual piece. I know I certainly didn't. That's why everybody is here."

Crane showed Barbara to a spot near the center of the room. A little ways away, a small podium could be seen through the crowd. While the actual display itself could not be seen, it must have been fairly small, as the podium itself was not much larger than any of the guests could stand on.

"Pardon me, Miss Gordon, but I need to get ready."

Before Barbara could say anything, Crane was gone. His voice, however, soon returned, ampliphied as through a microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, in a voice that was clear and cordial. "Thank you all for coming to see our newest exhibit. I know that you are all busy people in our fine city, so I will cut right to the chase."

Crane had appeared once more, only now he was behind Barbara. The whole scene actually looked a little different, as though everybodyhad shifted positions.

"An exhibit which none of us thought we could possibly see."

It no doubt became quite suddenly clear that Barbara was now on the podium, raised a bit above everybody else.

"The Batgirl!" Crane exclaimed, and everybody turned as one toward Barbara. The polished black floor gave enough of a reflection to reveal that, somehow, Barbara was once more in her Batgirl costume.

She was, however, still very much pregnant, her breasts and stomach straining against the dark material of her costume.

"A very pregnant Batgirl, ladies and gentlemen. Who would think that one of Gotham's best would be placed in such a position?"
 
"A...new exhibit, but what are you talking about, what does that have to do with me and why did you make me pregnant you bastard!" She said through clenched teeth as she was led into another room by the horrible Dr. Crane. She could feel the eyes of the crowd watching her as she waddled ponderously to the other part of the room, very much relieved to be away from their stares.

However, in a flash something was off. She was viewing the entire scene through a different perspective...as where just moments before she had been looking up to the small podium, it now seemed as if she were looking DOWN from it, as if she were up on the stage...as if....she were the exhibit. Letting out a gasp as the crowd gathered around her, she realized from the reflection in the marble that she were in her Batgirl costume, which was straining to hold in her gravid girth.

She was standing, but barely, her legs spread wide and her hands perched on her stomach. She wanted to move, to get off of the podium, but she found that was all but impossible. She noticed in the reflection that her cape and cowl were still on, but she was grinning a stupid little grin that she couldn't wipe off of her face at all. That's when the placard describing the "exhibit" caught her eye and she moaned to herself...."Oh god no" she thought as she read it.

"Batgirl - 34 weeks pregnant with triplets. A hands on Exhibit" The placard read. Good god, she was only 34 weeks? She felt as if she were close to bursting, not a month and a half away from actually giving birth! The card read on...

-Previous weight, 103 lbs. Current weight, 160 lbs. (Oh my god I gained close to 60 lbs?!)
-Previous bust, 34B. Current bust, 34DD. (What was she going to do with these udders?)
-Pregnant with three children, a boy and two girls.
-A fully hands on exhibit. Come and enjoy the delights of the pregnant body. Feel the children kick, feel her swollen breasts. Please be tasteful. Stretchmarks can be shown on request.

The first guest daring enough came up to Barbara and put his hand on her stomach, smiling to himself as one of the babies rewarded him with a kick. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't move! Oh god, even her father was in line to experience it for himself!
 
And so began the horrible spectacle. People came up to the podium. Some placed hands on Barbara's huge stomach, caresing, hoping to feel the babies kick through the straining flesh. Sometimes, they were lucky enough, the babies pressing against her body, a forceful blow that the onlookers noted with delighted grins and vocal pleasure. Of course, none of them seemed to notice any discomfort which Barbara might have felt at those kicks and touches, or took note of her humiliation.

Many familiar faces came up. Some, like her father, were tasteful, gently touching her stomach and smiling softly. Others were less so. Bruce touched her engorged breasts, squeezing them gently through the suit. He looked at her and gave her a sly wink as he did so, before stepping aside.

"Don't be shy, folks!" Crane called from behind Barbara. "Go ahead and touch and feel. We won't ahve this exhibit once she gives birth, after all!"
 
"Unnghhhh fuck they're kicking....they're kicking so much, can you all please stop, I'm begging you" Barbara heard herself moaning as the guests were too busy feeling her stretched out belly. It was true too, the babies seemed to take pleasure in the fact that so many new people were rubbing Barbara's belly and were kicking her like mad!

Her please for leniency seemed to fall on deaf ears, as so many visitors kept coming up and rubbing her body. Some were even more daring than the others, as they moved their hands to her taut behind and squeezed her cheeks. She heard herself moaning orgasmically as Bruce cupped and squeezed her sensitive tits....oh god what had she become.

"Crane....Crane please stop this. I beg of you, I can't be like this anymore," She said, as her father came back for a second rub of her gigantically swollen mound::
 
"At least in this world, everybody likes the fact that you are pregnant."

It was the first time that Crane had even hinted that he knew what she was talking about. His keen eyes looked over her swollen belly and straining breasts. "You are so lewd, Batgirl. Have you heard yourself, the way you moan when these people touch you?" His thin frame brushed against her own now, the fine material of his suit rubbing through the thin fabric of her costume.

"If you were to wake up, do you think any of these people would be nearly so happy? The talisman makes dreams come true, Batgirl. The hethan kings of old used it to gain wealth and power." He grinned as Bruce came back once more and rubbed Barbara's inner thighs. "In my hands, though, it is not dreams, but nightmares, which come alive."
 
This...this is not fair though! I'm a super hero nit a pregnant slut who is open to the whim and desire of every drunken lout that wishes to put there hands on me!" she groaned to herself as the crowd applauded as Bruce took another turn at the over inflated slut. But her cries if displeasure turned into moans...oh fuck bruces touch was just too much for her to bear and her body shivered violently as she blushed furiously...holy shit her chest was heaving as she was trying to come down from a mind boggling orgasm. Oh my god, she usually was such a prude but now she was craving another orgasm as her pussy was entirely drenched.

"Crane...Crane I knew you did this to me you bastard, get these brats out of me and give me my old body back!" she cried out, the babies kicking her again as if on cue.
 
”But my dear Batgirl,” Crane whispered to her. ”You seem to be enjoying it so much.” She has all but soaked the crotch of her costume, the thin material providing no concealment at all of just how wet she was. ”You have been moaning like a wanton whore almost the entire time.”
He stepped away from her then and down the short step from the podium where she stood. ”It’s closing time now, everybody,” Crane said to the crowd assembled. ”Thank you all for coming today! It is because of people like you that this museum is such a great success. And thank you once again to mister Bruce Wayne for his generous donation.”
Over the next several minutes the crowd dispersed, returning to their vehicles or out to continue the evening at other locales. After some time, only Crane and Batgirl were left, aside from the night watch. Taking him time, Crane sauntered back over to the podium where she still stood. ”I will release you from this nightmare, Batgirl,” he said to her, coming up close to her, so that her belly pressed against him. ”No more being on display at the museum, with paying customers coming to gawk at you.”
As Crane spoke, Batgirl’s vision would begin to blur, a floating feeling would begin to take over. ”However, Batgirl, do be careful. Sometimes… the nightmare becomes real.”
The last thing she would hear was Crane laughing, a high-pitched, reedy laugh, before darkness descended upon her.
Coming to, Batgirl would awake in the museum. Not atop a podium as she had been before, and not with crowds, and not even Crane in his Scarecrow costume. It was evening, dark. A clock on the wall revealed that only a couple of minutes had passed since Batgirl’s confrontation with the Scarecrow. The talisman was missing from its glass case, though, which lay shattered upon the floor. An alarm was blaring, sounding the call for the Gotham police, who were no doubt on their way by this point.
On the floor, not too far away from Batgirl, was a short note, writing in a slanted, scrawling script.
The nightmare has become real.
When Batgirl reached for the note, she would notice several things. Her suit no doubt felt very snug, pressing against heavy breasts and an engorged belly, heavy with triplets.
 
"Of course I don't enjoy this you bastard....but it seems Dr. Crane that I don't have much of a choice do I?" She said, moaning pitifully as most of the audience was leaving as the exhibit was over. She was thanking her lucky stars, thanking the good lord that this nightmare was going to be over soon....but what did he mean about the nightmare being real?

Her eyes were blurry and she felt herself coming too from the horrific nightmare, waiting and balling her fists to give Crane a taste of his own medicine...but something was wrong. When she saw the note and felt something moving and squirming within her, she knew what he meant by the nightmare being real.

"Oh god no....Crane you bastard!" She cried out, as she put a hand to her swollen belly...it was gigantically huge and the babies within her were kicking and moving like she never had experienced before. An alarm was blaring in the background....oh god she couldn't let anyone see her like this, not in this swollen state!

Just minutes before she had been an all american 20 something...now all she could think of was maternity clothes being in her future and her legs spread wide apart to birth the horrors that were within her.

She struggled to get up and found that her once lithe, athletic body was more of a blimp now. She waddle ponderously from side to side, her pussy rubbing up against the lycra costume and she started to moan. Fuck...not now...now now!

"Unnnghhhhhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkk" She cried out in an orgasm...it wracking throughout her body. Whatever Crane did to her it had made her super sensitive....and unfortunately for her that is where a pair of Gotham's finest had found her, writhing on the ground in the throes of a multiple orgasm, her hips bucking up against nothing at all.
 
The two officers were not expecting to find what they did. Responding to the alarm, they were the closest to the scene, though another car would be showing up soon. The two were both wondering what among the variety of highly valuable artifacts any robber could want. They were also wondering with some trepidation as to whether or not it would be one of Gotham’s notorious villains who would be responsible. If that was the case, the two of them might not be enough to handle the situation, thus why they had called for some extra support.

Coming into the museum, they saw a few sign of the break-in. Broken glass at the entrance doors, several missing items – mostly art pieces – all said that this might well have been a run of the mill criminal hoping to make some fast cash. Heading to an office, one of the officers shut off the alarm, which wound down with a whirring noise.

”Not too much to go off of,” one noted to the other. There was nothing at first glance which would tip them off. Joker always left a terrible gag, whilst the Penguin couldn’t help but leave a fowl reminder. The Riddler tended to leave puzzling notes, and poor Harvey Two-Face left coins. That would be a job for the detectives, though, to determine what was going on.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of moaning from farther back in the museum. Not quite a sound of pain, though. Flashlights shining beams forward through the darkness, the two crept forward. There it was again, that sound, a strangled cry that was not painful.

Rounding the corner, the two came to what was a new section on ancient Eastern European art. Neither had been in to see it yet, the job keeping them both too busy to do so. Neither, however, made note of the missing amulet. Instead, what they saw was Batgirl. At least, they thought it was Batgirl. The costume, the hair, the face below the mask all looked right. She was, however, extremely pregnant, a massive belly protruding forward, straining at the costume, her breasts pressing against the top of the costume, barely constrained. And she was writhing on the ground in ecstasy, hips bucking up into the air as she worked through an orgasm.

”Shit,” one said, coming forward to grab her by the arm. Whether it was Batgirl or not, they had to get her out of there. ”Gimme a hand.”

Between the two of them, they half-carried Batgirl out a back door of the museum. One stayed with her while the other brought the car around. From there, they talked to the second team, giving them a story about how they had found a suspicious person near the museum, and were going to investigate. In reality, they were taking Batgirl away from the scene.
 
"Hmmmmmphhhhh god......th....thank you so much officers" Barbara said to the two officers as they picked her up. She was still writhing, her hips bucking back and forth as they helped her waddle over to the squad car. Shockwaves from her orgasm were running through her swollen body. She had never had an orgasm that incredibly powerful before in her life and she was still weak kneed as one of the officers jumped into the front of her car and the other helped her in back and sat next to her.

"What....has my life become" Barbara moaned to herself as she put both of her hands on her stomach. Her body was ruined, she was a simpering orgasmic mess, and she was going to have a baby...well actually, judging from the size of her belly she was going to have more than one.

"I cannot thank you officers enough. Dr. Crane did this to me....you have to put out an APB to stop him. We can't let him get away or I'll be like this for....for....f...." She was trying to explain why they needed to stop Crane, but she was confused...she smelled something in the car and it smelled lovely. It...it was coming from in between the officers legs. She had to have it....she couldn't stop herself as her hands flew to his crotch as he jumped, startled....before he knew what was going on she had his cock out and was furiously sucking it, her belly getting in the way but she just didn't care. Like a common street whore, she was sucking his cock fuirously in the back of the car, her lips smacking lewdly and loudly as she wanted the delicious prize at the end of the game....
 
As the cop in the front drove, he and the officer in the back were talking, trying to figure out just where they could go. The hospital was the most obvious choice, of course. But that wouldn’t really work. The police of Gotham – the ones that hadn’t gone bad, at least – had a sort of unspoken agreement with the caped crusaders that they wouldn’t try and figure out who they were. If Batgirl was brought to the hospital, then they were going to unmask her, and then everybody would know who she was. Maybe they could try and find Batman. There was the signal, on top of the headquarters. As late as it was, they could probably get in and signal him without attracting too much attention. Especially since there were more officers at the museum now.

”Don’t worry,” the officer in the back said to her, trying his best to sound reassuring. ”We’ll take you over to the station, and get Batman on the scene. He can help. Then we’ll-”

He was cut abruptly short as Batgirl’s hands flew to his crotch, quickly removing his belt and undoing his pants. His formerly flaccid cock soon grew erect under her lips and hands, and his protests rapidly vanished. In front, the officer driving was watching from the mirror. The officer she was sucking on had leaned back, and his hand was on Barbara’s head, buried in her red hair.

”Shit, you’ve gotta pull over,” the officer said to his squadmate. Licking his lips, the officer nodded, and soon they were in a back alley. It was no secret that the driver was just waiting his turn, and he’d be getting it soon enough. Eith a grunt, the officer in back thrust his hips, forcing his cock down Barbara’s throat as he came, hard, in her mouth.
 
"Hhmmmphhhhhhhh hmmphhhhhhhh oh christphmmphhhhhh!!!" Barbara cried out as she felt the car pull to the side of the road and one of Gotham's finest shoot one of the biggest loads into her mouth that she had ever experienced. She was no prude, but she couldn't believe that she was doing this and she had never swallowed before....but good lord she felt compelled to do so and gulped down the cum with wreckless abandon.

"Ohmmmphhhhhhh oh god yes now it's your turn stud" Barbara felt herself saying, as she crawled over hands and knees to the remaining officer and took his huge cock in her mouth. She was bobbing her head up and down like a professional slut, slurping and moaning loudly like a porno star. She couldn't control herself from making these noises....it was so pathetic, but god something about this just felt so right, like it was completely natural for her.
 
The second officer was ready to go by the time that Barbara had finished with his buddy. His belt was undone and zipper down, so that when she came crawling toward him, she knew right where to go. Taking her head between his hands, the officer’s hips thrust into Barbara’s mouth, forcing his cock down her throat with each motion. His fingers tugged at her hair as if flowed from beneath the mask, and his groans of pleasure were quite genuine, the result of Barbara’s vapid ministrations. She was having at him like the whores that he’d had to lock up on more than one occasion for walking the streets. Nobody was going to believe this.

Although Barbara had finished with the other officer for the moment, he was hardly finished with her. Coming up behind her, the officer slid his hand along her ass, running it between her ass, the skin-tight material of her suit doing little to conceal the contours and curves of her body. In a moment, his fingers were rubbing against her womanhood, the tips finding her clitoris through the suit and rubbing. His other hand ran over her side, along the mound of her belly as she sucked at the other officer’s cock.

As dark as it was, and as late as it was, there was nobody around to hear their moans of pleasure. The only other officers on duty were miles away patrolling their own parts of the city. The Dark Knight was nowhere to be seen, perhaps at the museum, or else not even out and about that evening, aware that his young protégée was out that night, though no doubt unaware of what she had gotten herself into, what Crane had done to her body, nor what she was now doing.
 
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