Batgirl Seeks A Solution

Authors Note:

Welcome. I’ve wanted to complete a Batgirl piece for a long time, and here it is. I’ve finally achieved it.
This is very much a passion project. I intend to write a series of Batgirl adventures, and this is a test to see if there is any interest in this more damaged version of the character. Think of this story as almost a stand-alone trailer. This is an ambitious project for me, so If you’ve enjoyed this, and want to read more, then please drop me a message.

Blurb:

A very damaged, traumatised Batgirl tries to find an outlet for the darkness inside her.

“Ah fuck, fuck… that… fuck… what are you doing? You said he was too big,” I gasped out as I gripped the bedsheets and tried to look behind me.

Steve turned to Emma and for a moment there was a look of uncertainty on his face. Emma laughed. “I said he was too big for most people… you’re Batgirl. Surely you can take it, can’t you?!”

Batgirl, yeah. You didn’t read that wrong. At the time of this story I was indeed Batgirl. But not just dressed as Batgirl, or pretending to be Batgirl. I was the actual Batgirl, the protector of Gotham City. You see, my actual name, is Barbara Gordon. At that moment I was on my hands and knees, in just my boots, gloves and cowl. My batsuit, with it’s protection, was lying discarded somewhere on the floor of this plush open plan warehouse apartment.

“Get… it… out,” I growled, but I felt myself shiver as Steve went another inch deeper inside me.

“Fuck, your asshole feels incredible,” Steve said, neither of them were reacting to me. It was as if I’d said nothing.

“Let me see,” Emma said, moving closer and peering down. She could only have been attempting to get a look at my asshole as it was forced wide open.

I felt my body burn with shame and something deeper, an ache I couldn’t place. This is what I wanted, wasn’t it? No… I didn’t ask for this. Or did I? I turned back into the pillow and then pressed my face deeper into it, and I let out a small sob of frustration before gritting my teeth.

“I never thought I’d see anyone able to take Steve in their ass.” Emma cooed. “I think you’ve found your true calling. You are much better at this than being Batgirl.”

Emma was beautiful in a way I would never be. She wore leather pants and a denim jacket that only hinted at the incredible hourglass figure that I knew was beneath, she had perfect skin and needed no make-up. She wore her natural blonde hair up and parted across her model’s face, which had symmetrical, elf-like features and a strong chin. Steve was every bit her equal: tall, dark, with a chiselled jaw and intense blue eyes, and his body was a canvas of intricate tattoos. You could picture him in a Renaissance painting as Apollo or Adonis. As cute as I used to think I was, in a sort of young-girl-next-door sort of way, I knew that was out the window when I was next to these two.

As Emma spoke, she ran her hands over the small of my back like I was owned by her, like maybe I was her prize mare. The touch sent a shiver through me.

“Look, Steve, look how she’s quivering!” she exclaimed, full of excitement. She leaned in closer to me and grabbed hold of my hand. Then she whispered in my ear, “I guess it must hurt pretty bad, huh? Poor baby.”

“I love how heavy your tits are, Batgirl,” she added before she dragged her nails slowly down the side of my exposed breast. “I knew they’d be big, but wow, your costume did a lot of heavy lifting.”

I turned my head to look at her. I wanted to look into her eyes, to show how defiant I was, to show she couldn’t break me. Instead, I felt my lip wobble, and tears started to form in my eyes. I felt seen.

I saw a glimmer of hesitation in Emma’s eyes. For a split second, she almost looked moved. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Steve interrupted whatever mercy she was about to show me.

“Oh shit! Fuck, she’s taking more, fuck yeah!” Steve groaned as I felt him force another inch inside me.

My instant reaction was a scream that tore from my throat, raw and desperate. My vision blurred as my body shook uncontrollably, each nerve set on fire as Steve forced his way deeper. I couldn’t take it anymore. My mind fragmented, overwhelmed by the violent intensity. My hands scrabbled for purchase on the sheets. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t survive this.

Emma’s eyes turned cold again as I screamed. The moment of sympathy had vanished in an instant as she realised she had me. I knew I’d unlocked something cruel inside her.

“Oh, she loves that!” She said back to Steve. “How far are you in?”

“Maybe a quarter of me?”

“Careful,” Emma purred, her voice mocking. “Don’t break her. Not so soon.”

Steve didn’t slow. Instead, he grunted and shoved harder. I felt even more of him plough into my ass like a burning tree trunk. My muscles clenched instinctively, trying to resist the invasion, but it was like trying to stop a freight train. I didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh fuck, she’s tight if I go any deeper, I might just rupture something inside her.”

“Do it,” she whispered. “She’s Batgirl.”

My eyes widened, and her words echoed in my mind: ” Don’t break her too soon.” That meant my breaking was inevitable.

I thrashed against him, suddenly desperate to escape the searing pain as Steve’s cock tore deeper inside my bowels. My body bucked as he held me in place, his fingers digging bruises into my hips. Each time he increased the pressure it felt like I was being ripped apart as his thick girth spread me impossibly wider.

My head sank into the pillows, but I clawed at the sheets, trying to push myself up, trying to escape; I was Batgirl, and these two were no match for me. In response, I was shoved back down into my place. Helpless.

“No, stop it!” I screamed, but my voice was swallowed by the mattress. I gasped for breath, my muscles trembling, betraying me. I knew this couldn’t be happening to me. I couldn’t be letting it happen. But, this is what I came here for wasn’t it?

Steve and Emma couldn’t hear what I said but laughed anyway. They were bonding over me, and they were finding humour in breaking my mind and body simultaneously.

“Look at you, Batgirl,” Emma whispered, her breath hot against my ear. “You can fight off anyone in Gotham, but here? Right now? You are nothing. Just a body. Just a toy. No one can save you. No one knows you are here.”

Her words sent a chill through me as Steve’s hands tightened on my hips, pushing me down harder. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

Emma slapped my ass with the palm of her hand. There was a harsh yet satisfying noise as her hand bounced off my reddened flesh. My pathetic sounds became more indignant for a moment, in shock as much as pain.

I lifted my head from the pillow. As my head came up, she grabbed the bat ears on my cowl and used them to twist my head. She leaned in and kissed me forcefully, her tongue invading me, and then she pulled back and spat into my open mouth. I gagged.

“That’s so fucking hot,” Steve said as he pressed his cock a little deeper.

I screamed out in anguish, a sickening noise of pain and humiliation and looked at Emma with big pleading eyes and a quivering lip. I had no pride left. They had broken me. I was willing to beg for mercy that I knew wouldn’t come.

“That’s what you deserve,” she said and smiled, grabbing my chin in her hand. “You little whore.”

I was silenced and as she stared into my eyes I felt my powerlessness. And there it was, the familiar stirring of unwanted pleasure. They’d unlocked it, the high that I was seeking. The word “whore” had snapped something inside me. My heart pounded in my ears at the realisation that Emma knew my truth. This is why I was here. This was what I needed. No safety net, no escape, without this, I couldn’t feel alive.

She spat into my mouth and I let my eyes roll up and my mouth hang open. I savoured that sensation and swallowed. Emma forced two fingers into my mouth as soon as her spit reached my stomach and I closed my lips on them obediently. I thought that would make Emma happy. Instead, she looked at Steve.

“Let her have it all,” she ordered.

I could feel Steve hesitate, breaking character for just a moment. “You sure?”

“Yeah… it’s fucking Batgirl!” She said to Steve, who seemed unsure. “She fucking deserves this; look at that whore costume; this is what she’s got coming. Serves her right.”

“Wait…” I just managed to say before Emma clamped her hand around my throat and began tightening her grip to choke me. She nodded to Steve.

Steve forced the remaining half of his cock into my body with the strength of a god; my bowels didn’t stand even a chance. My efforts were as futile as a man trying to stop a tank with nothing but an impotent placard.

They knew Steve was too big for full anal sex. They’d both said it. They’d both warned me. It had seemed like a line they were aware of and wouldn’t cross. Yet suddenly Steve and Emma didn’t seem to care about the internal damage they were about to cause. Something about me had inspired them to cross their lines. It was as if I was nothing more to them than a feelingless sex doll.

Though that wasn’t quite right, they knew I had feelings because they thrived on them. It felt like they were both revelling in draining my emotions from me like succubuses.

It was so intense, so extreme, so over the boundary between pleasure, pain and torture that it was a long moment before I realised the screaming wail in the room was mine. Even then, it only stopped when Emma kissed me and swallowed my screams with bliss.

***

I saw the world in terms of cause and effect. For every action, there is always some sort of reaction. I analysed and looked and assessed things, and I’ve got to say I think I was pretty good at it. It’s a huge part of what helped me as Batgirl. There is one thing I was not good at analysing, my one blind spot, if you will, and that was myself.

It’s something I was never good at. it was always easier to work out how things effected other things, and then I was able to work out why other people did what they did, and then I worked out how to influence them. It was probably a defence mechanism, a way to stop me from having to confront or think about what was inside me.

And that’s why I had no idea if my role as Batgirl changed me or if I’d always had the darkness inside me. There was a lot to unpack. If you don’t know how things were before, then you can’t make a comparison, and if you can’t make a comparison, then you can’t even begin to look at cause and effect. Which is why I’d tried so hard to not think of the darkness.

I had to play two roles, one, as Barbara Gordon, the shy, ignored, invisible daughter wasting away in a library full of books. The other as Batgirl, the champion of justice. The girl with the shiny black catsuit who flaunted her incredible curves in literally the worst villain’s faces. The villains who live only in normal people’s nightmares, the very worst people to flaunt yourself in front of. I was the Batgirl who dared them to try to take me on, in the arrogant belief that I could defeat them all. No matter how hard they tried, I believed I’d always get lucky. It was like my life depended on my getting at least a four on every roll of the dice.

Would I have taken on the role if I had known it would be like this? Would I have become Batgirl? The champion for a city that doesn’t care? The champion who is loved and hated by probably the same proportion of the city’s population?. I started with an idolised view, an arrogance that I was untouchable. By the time of this story I knew that was wrong; I’d lost, I’d been beaten, left for dead, been betrayed by those I trusted, and been the victim myself in the worst possible way. I’d found myself alone, fighting for the city, the last one standing. I’d suffered because I was Batgirl.

Would I have done that?

The answer is yes. Because I loved it. I loved it all. The danger, the thrill, the sense of purpose, the power, the sense of doing something that mattered.

You see, there was that darkness in me that I fought. I didn’t know if that darkness had always been inside me or whether it had been created by the trauma of being Batgirl. Maybe it was a survival mechanism or a safety valve? I don’t think I’ll ever know the answer. But late at night, my mind would wander and I would remember that thrill when a fight was going badly, or the thrill when I was captured or when I was beaten, when I’m shown I’m not all-powerful and indestructible. When there was a chance it might be all over for me.

There’s a thrill in having control, but there is another kind of thrill in being the final champion of justice and having it taken away from you. I knew I shouldn’t want that. I knew with my whole being that it was wrong. But I think a part of me, a tiny part inside me acknowledged that I got off on losing.

I’d come to the conclusion that my life had gotten to the point where the darkness needed to be brought under control before I destroyed myself and possibly the whole city. What I needed was an outlet.

Steve and Emma both hated me. They were kinky sadists who I’d run across one night a year or so previously. I didn’t know their back story or how they’d met, but they were a perfect combination, a perfect match for each other. Emma was a true switch, a woman who could equally enjoy being top or bottom and Steve was a powerful dominant who also enjoyed surrendering to Emma.

Steve had Emma tied up the first time I met them. I’d seen them through a skylight, and in my naivety, I’d assumed the worst. I genuinely thought Steve was going to kill her. I dropped through the skylight and judgmentally threw Steve across the room. I’d been a little heavy handed and knocked him out. Emma, after I released her, angrily tried to explain to me what they’d been doing, but I didn’t listen and called the cops.

Steve spent the night in a cell but was released with an apology, and Captain James Gordon, who was still speaking to me at this point, gave me a slap on the wrist.

“They are swingers, Batgirl, and you need to be more careful before you just jump into things,” he told me in his stern, fathererly tone. A tone that I ironically only heard whilst Batgirl. When I was Barbara, his actual daughter, I didn’t get much interest from him.

I don’t know why I sought Steve and Emma out, but one night I just couldn’t control myself anymore. I found myself there, on their rooftop. It was as if my dark side had taken total possession of me and then abandoned me when I reached where it wanted me to go.

Their luxurious apartment took up the entire top floor of what had one hundred years ago been a warehouse in Gotham’s thriving industrial heartland. It was one open space with undressed brick walls and elaborate cast iron pillars supporting the ceiling above.

They were both watching something on a laptop that sounded like porn when I entered through their balcony. They looked up in unison, they looked surprised but not afraid, which was unnerving. I was in my full Batgirl regalia, my cape billowing, my costume dark, shiny and imposing. They ought to have been intimidated, but they weren’t.

“I’m sorry,” I said. It was maybe a lame opener, but it was all I could come up with and it felt like it was a good place to start.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Steve said. Emma said nothing, but looked unimpressed.

I tried to focus on my breathing, reminding myself that I’d chosen to come here and that I had control. But the knot in my stomach wouldn’t loosen. I’d faced down maniacs with guns and bombs, but somehow, walking up to Steve and Emma felt more dangerous. More unpredictable. As every second passed, I felt heavier like I was sinking deeper into something I wasn’t sure I could climb back out of.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I did to you both. I was in the wrong; I didn’t understand; trust me, I’ve learnt a lot.” I cringed deep inside, that didn’t sound any better than my opener. Why did I suck so badly at this?

Emma got to her feet with the poise of a stretching cat. “We’ve learned a lot too, Batgirl. What do you want with us?”

My mind raced. Why did that sound so intimidating? Was she implying that she’d learned a lot about me? I tried to think what they could possibly have learned, but my brain was so tired. There was so much about the last year that I wanted to forget, so I gave up and focused on Emma.

She smiled at me, but it didn’t reach her eyes. There was something unsettling in the way she watched me, like a cat toying with its prey. Steve, for all his charm, barely glanced at me. He was focused, calculating, as if he were already one step ahead of whatever game I thought we were playing.

“Why are you here?” Steve asked, repeating Emma’s unanswered question, “What do you want from us?”

I stared at them both, I said nothing. The apartment felt too warm, too close. My skin buzzed with a mixture of tension and anticipation, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d made a terrible mistake. Could I stop this if I wanted to? Or had I already surrendered without realising it?

I’ve heard that a true domme or sadist, I can’t remember which, can tell their prey just by looking at them, by looking in their eyes. So I tried that, hoping my eyes could communicate my need in a way my words couldn’t. I forced my green eyes to look into Emma’s piercing blue eyes, and I fought every urge to look down.

She seemed to look into my soul for a moment. I could see her thoughts change. She went from irritation to confusion to interest to surprise and finally to a sort of victorious, excited satisfaction. A vast smirk crossed her face.

Emma took a step forward, closing the distance between us until she was only inches away. Her blue eyes seemed to pierce my soul, stripping away my armour and leaving me raw and exposed.

“Surely not Batgirl, surely not,” she said in a playful voice.

“What?” Steve called from behind her.

“I think Batgirl has come to play,” she purred, never taking her eyes off me.

***

I stood in front of them wearing my full costume feeling like a slave being valued. I stood with my arms folded in front of my chest. I knew that the pose tended to make my not-insignificant breasts look even bigger. I tried to look powerful and unimpressed, but I probably looked defensive and petulant. Steve and Emma had returned to the expensive leather couch. They both had a drink, him a whiskey, and I suspected she had a gin and tonic. They’d offered me nothing, not even water.

“So, Batgirl,” Steve said in his rich voice, which had an element of patronisation to it. “Do you even know what you want?”

“I’m not here to play games, and I’m not here to beg,” I said defiantly. “But I need something…”

“What on earth is going on in that pretty head of yours?” Emma said. “I’m confused. Is this maybe some sort of trap? But what for? Why would you trap us? With all the problems in Gotham City, I can’t imagine that we or any of the people we know are at the top of any ‘Bat-Wanted-List’.”

I swear she did the air quotes on ‘Bat-Wanted-List’ just to taunt me.

“You need to tell us why you are here and what you want; please don’t make us try and guess what you are thinking,” she continued.

I sighed and turned around, away from them. I figured it would be easier to talk and open up if I faced the wall.

“Could I get a glass of water?”

“No,” Emma said, very finally and very quickly. “We aren’t your friends, we aren’t your fans, we’re not going to share drinks with you. So far you are more of an unwanted visitor.”

I shouldn’t have come here. Every instinct told me to leave, to go back to being Batgirl. But there was something in the way they looked at me, in the way Emma dissected me with her words. They made me feel very small, very powerless; but that’s what I wanted; that’s why I was here. It made me feel exposed and raw. And that thrill, that damn thrill kept me standing there

I had to find the courage to speak, to open up, or I’d have achieved nothing.

“I… I… dammit. Okay. This is hard, really hard, like the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” I said surrendering and turning to face them. “You two are the only people like you that I know. I know there is a whole scene, a whole world, but I don’t know them, I know you. That’s why I’m here. And I’m sorry for what I did, I realise I made a mistake. I am sorry for that. I promise I’m not just saying that because I want something now. I’m also here because I know you both hate me, or at least despise me. It kind of means you might be able to do what I want. Sorry, what I need.”

“Might be able to do what exactly?” Emma said.

She tried to hide it, but her body language changed subtly to show curiosity.

“I guess, first I need to know if you both want me, or else there is no point continuing, if you don’t find me… I don’t know what the word is…”

“Fuckable,” Emma said.

“Yeah, I guess… Anyway…”

“No, no, no, no. You don’t get off that easily. I want you to say that. Say fuckable. Ask us if we think you are fuckable, Batgirl.” The way she said Batgirl made it sound more like an insult.

I bit my tongue, tasting the bitterness of the word before it left my mouth. “Fuckable,” I said, with a tightness in my throat, the word a sour pill.

I could feel them sizing me up, but I wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. “Do you find me fuckable?”

Steve had a big smile on his face, but Emma wasn’t so easily swung.

“I gotta be honest, the costume and the fact you are Batgirl is doing a lot for you. You’ve got big tits, and you are in shape, but there is just something about you; you look sort of common… almost mousy, an all-American girl-next-door with a side of a farm girl, probably up from the country just looking to make a buck.”

Her words burned, it was as if she saw Barbara, as if Barbara was standing in front of her. She saw the real me. This was getting dangerous very fast. But with the danger came the thrill I craved

“That wasn’t a no,” I just about managed to hiss out.

She ignored me, “So you want us to fuck you? Is that really why you are here?”

“I shouldn’t be here. This is… this isn’t what I do,” I said, every word like pulling teeth. My heart raced as if it would explode.

They both looked at me, they weren’t giving me any mercy, they were good at this.

“You can’t tell anyone; it wouldn’t be safe for either of you. I have enemies, real enemies, not just people who don’t like me, enemies who would harm anyone to get to me. It’s not worth the risk to yourselves.”

“I hardly think you would be worth boasting about,” Emma said in a cutting way. “But, time is a wasting. What is it that you want, Batgirl?”

The world swam for a moment like I was off balance. My heart pounded so hard I felt dizzy, but there was no turning back.

“If you want me, you can have me. For tonight, before I lose my nerve. But, but there are limits, this is on my terms.”

No limits,” Steve said, grinning.

“I said this is on my terms,” I repeated. Even if my heart was racing, I wasn’t about to give everything away. Not yet.

“You should also know that Steve is far too big for anal sex, little Batgirl. Even for me,” Emma said, ignoring me.

Anal sex? There was only one reason she would bring that up now. Cause and effect. My mind raced, despite their feelings for me, despite the fact they were toying with me, they were still playing by rules. Her statement was a warning, a hint as to what they wanted. If I stayed, then I would, in effect, be giving my consent.

But I was playing a role, so I took a guess at what was expected of me, “I’m not into that. That is definitely off the table. Sorry, I mean it.”

There was silence in the room for a while. Then Emma spoke first.

“You don’t get a say,” Emma said with a smile that was cold and unyielding. She exchanged a glance with Steve, and I could feel the weight of it, the unspoken promise that I was treading into dangerous territory. “Stay or go. That’s all the choice you get.”

I stayed.

***

And that’s how I ended up on their bed, with Steve’s massive cock fully in my ass and Emma silencing my screams with her mouth.

I honestly don’t know how long or wide Steve was, but he was huge. I’ve had anal sex before, sometimes it seemed to be all that anyone wanted from Batgirl. Maybe that’s what I secretly wanted all along. Maybe that’s why I put the zipper at the back, behind me, so that anyone tearing down the zip as I struggled would come across my ass first. But Steve was nothing like anything that had come before. There was no pleasure in the sensations, only raw destruction. However, that destruction was the source of my pleasure. That and my humiliation, and knowing they were breaking me, mentally and physically.

The pain coursed through me like an electric storm, and with every jolt, I felt the edges of myself unravelling. I wanted to hate it, to fight back, but somewhere, deep inside, the line between pain and desire blurred. And that terrified me more than the pain itself. And as hard as I could go, they could go.

Emma lifted my head, and cradled it as she looked into my eyes.

“Does it hurt? Does it hurt to have your asshole stretched so wide,” Emma asked.

I’d stopped screaming. I had no screams left in me. I just whimpered, a pathetic sound, not worthy of Batgirl. And Emma laughed, she laughed in my face.

Steve was by now slowly rhythmically fucking in and out of my asshole. The whole vast open plan apartment seemed to echo with the sucking wet sounds of my asshole being destroyed.

The smell was insane, a mix of lube, our sweat, my costume, the apartment, and something dirtier, something earthier.

“If you cum you belong to us. Deal?” Emma cooed.

I whimpered again, the sound was intended to stop them, but I knew it would only spur her on. Deals like Emma was offering were my undoing, my kryptonite. I’d learned that the threat of something terrible happening if I came, was the most certain thing to make me cum. Catwoman had been the first to teach me that about myself.

Emma reached under me, past my swinging tits and to my clit.

“Fuck, you are so wet,” she cooed. Then she started in on my clit.

“When you cum, your ass is going to tighten, you won’t be able to control it, it’s just going to happen, but you see, your ass is full of prime thick cock, so your muscles are going to clamp down on something very hard and unyielding. Which do you think is stronger, your delicate defeated ass muscles or Steve’s cock?”

“Mmnnnnnnn,” I moaned, shaking my head. She knew just what to say, she knew how to get into my head.

That moan signalled my complete defeat, I was theirs to use, a broken mess of a person. But, at that moment I felt free. Free from all the pressures of my lives. I had surrendered to them and they controlled my future. I was at their mercy, and I had no idea of what they might do to me.

“Oh, you really like that don’t you? You are something else, and you know what? As soon as you cum, I’m unmasking you,” Emma said, unable to hide how impressed she was.

If she unmasked me I would be done as Batgirl. They would know who I was. I couldn’t stop them. It was my greatest fear, and would be my greatest defeat. When I had first become Batgirl I’d always thought the mask was my protection, my armor. But it had begun to feel like a cage. One orgasm and Emma would end my career as Batgirl by opening the cage door and setting me free. But, that freedom would mean I’d have lost everything that gave me a sense of importance, that made me mean anything. But, the terrifying part? Maybe I wanted her to.

The really shameful thing was that I shouldn’t have even been close to orgasm. My ass was being destroyed by two sadists that were fucking and tormenting me. This orgasm should have been the easiest thing in the world to shut down. But, I had the darkness inside me, and the darkness lived for this.

“Oh god,” I gasped out, my pussy must have spasmed.

“Oh you really like that idea don’t you?”

I cried out just before the orgasm hit me. It was like an alternating hell of pleasure and pain. Each wave of pleasure ripped through me and caused my ass to tighten around Steve’s hard cock, just as Emma said it would. Each tightening of my ass instantly sent a shaft of pain through me, which deepened the pleasure, which in turn sent a new, more intense shaft of pain through me. It didn’t stop, it kept building like I was trapped in a horrific feedback loop.

I have no idea how long that lasted, it might have been five minutes, five hours, or five years, but the next thing I was aware of was that I was eating Emma’s cunt. Well that’s not quite accurate, I wasn’t doing anything, she was holding my head and grinding herself over my face. It seemed to work for her. My face was covered in her slippery girl cum, she smelt and tasted perfect in a way I knew I’d never taste.

I slowly also became aware of what Steve was doing. He was switching holes with reckless abandon. One minute he’d be balls deep in my asshole, then he’d pull out and plunge into my wet pussy, then he’d pull out and plunge back into my asshole. There was no resistance in either hole now. I could tell that they’d broken me completely.

But I still had my cowl on, I reached up and felt it, just to check. To my surprise they hadn’t unmasked me, I was still Batgirl, at least for now. That thought excited me, I still meant something, I still counted.

I moaned and deliberately pressed out my tongue, deciding that I wanted to be more active in this. As soon as I lapped my tongue against her, I heard her laugh. Then she changed position. She pushed my head hard down into the pillow, hard enough that I thought she was going to break my nose.

Then there was a strange pushing movement on the top of my head. It took me a few moments to work out what the sensations meant. Cause and effect. It was with a sinking feeling that I realised that Emma was now fucking herself on one of the long bat ears on top of my cowl.

The realisation that Emma would rather fuck the Batgirl cowl than me was overwhelming. It summed up everything and put me in my place. They were fucking and destroying Batgirl, they didn’t know or care about Barbara. My stomach clenched, and for a moment I had to remember how to breathe. Then, to my surprise, I felt another orgasm rising inside me.

I tried to turn my head to get more air, but Emma held my head in place, her hands and body weight overcoming my neck muscles. I put my hand flat on the bed to push up, but I felt Steve’s powerful hand flat on my back and I knew I was trapped, I had to work with the air that I had. That helplessness was the trigger that unleashed the next orgasm through me.

They didn’t wait for my orgasm to finish before they dragged me up to my feet. Steve swapped places, sitting back onto the bed, just near enough to the edge.

I blinked, and gazed around like a lost fuck zombie not even knowing where I was. Emma pushed my head down, and Steve pulled it the rest of the way, and together they forced my head down onto Steve’s huge cock.

Emma moved behind me and I felt her shove three fingers into my anus. It was hard to concentrate on what she was doing as Steve’s cock was forcing its way into my mouth. But I knew Emma was taunting me, showing me how badly I was gaping.

Steve kept pulling, using my cowl to force his huge cock past my back teeth and into my throat. I gagged just as Emma twisted the three fingers inside my asshole, then pulled them out to the side, before plunging them back in. Then she escalated it to four fingers.

I retched as Steve’s cock plunged into my throat. Watery thick slime came out of my nose and my mouth and drooled out around his cock and ran down his shaft.

This must have displeased Steve, as his cock was suddenly no longer in my mouth and there were suddenly two pairs of hands on my head, forcing me down to lick where my throat slime had dripped down onto his balls and asshole.

I tasted and smelt myself; the remnants of my holes were all over him. My filth now mixed with my saliva and mucus. That was when he came.

He held my head in place, between his legs, my tongue licking against his asshole and his balls. The bastard came on the top of my cowl. I could hear it and feel it pattering down in small splashes.

There was a brief moment of respite, I used it to breathe, to try and rebuild myself, but they weren’t done. For their final humiliation, they scooped the cum off the top of my cowl with a teaspoon they’d gotten, I don’t know where, and they fed it to me like I was a fucking baby.

Like a baby, their baby, I swallowed it.

***

“How are you feeling?” Emma asked me as I finally came back to my senses.

I shook my head and used the back of my hand to wipe the saliva, snot and cum residue that covered my face.

“I think the three of us proved a few things. You know, you aren’t half bad,” Emma said to me.

“Yeah, I guess you could say, apology accepted,” Steve said, appearing from behind Emma and putting a glass of water on the side of the bed.

My head throbbed a little but I was otherwise fine, and slowly becoming more aware of my surroundings. I also still had my mask on.

“You didn’t unmask me?” I said, wishing my voice sounded stronger.

“I guess the city still needs a Batgirl, plus, I think you wanted us to, I think you wanted to be set free. But, we won’t be the ones to take that mask off you, and so you’ll stay trapped as Batgirl for another day,” Steve said.

That was powerful, and hit hard. They were probably right, but I could already feel my mental defences rebuilding, I could feel the walls coming up. I could see that my moments of self-reflection were moving past me. Soon they’d be in my rear view mirror and I could concentrate on problem solving, on anticipating the cause and effect for a whole city.

“The moment I pulled that thing off your head, Batgirl would be dead. You’d just be a helpless little girl,” Emma said, moving behind me and standing with her natural air of superiority, looking down at me. “Where is the fun in that?”

I felt Emma’s words smash against my mental walls like a wrecking ball, cracks formed, but the walls held. I knew they were right, that I was trapped, that there was no escape. I also knew that I was okay with that. I loved being Batgirl, my sacrifices gave me my power, they made me important, they made me someone and they made me matter.

I knew this might be only a temporary fix, a bandaid that would come off. I knew I’d end up back here, or somewhere worse. Eventually I’d have to find a solution for myself. If I wanted to carry on being the martyr that was Batgirl, then I’d need to find an outlet one way or other.

That was a problem for another day, there and then I knew that I had work to do, and for the first time in a while, I felt clear headed, strong and determined enough to do it.

THE END

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