Batman Cyoa: Gotham Buffet

Selina's dark eyes seemed to cloud over, her feline pride at war with her arousal, Selina herself wondering how far she would debase herself if it meant this pleasure would continue. If she didn't give in, it was a sure bet that either Harley or Ivy would. Bruce would definitely finish with them rather than let Selina dictate terms.

"Thank you for letting me be your whore," Selina moaned finally, a husky breath interrupting her speech, a jolt of arousal at her saying the words she was saying. "I love being your whore. I love being your whore so much. Please, please keep treating me like your whore..."

Harley squeezed her thighs together, eyes rolling back in her head. Ivy said something that her gag ate up. It didn't sound complimentary. Bruce ignored them. Selina had guaranteed that his attention would be on her.

"You're hot, aren't you? I like a woman who enjoys fucking. And you do, don't you Selina? You enjoy being fucked."

"Yes!" Selina rasped out.

"You've got a good cunt," Bruce said. "Nice amount of hair. Nice response to being touched. That's how it's supposed to be. I bet Harley and Ivy have a good time with this pussy. Which of them do you let suck it? Tell me, Selina, do both of them go down on this sweet little cunt?"

"Sometimes," Selina admitted, not that she liked confessing that there were times she let the crazies get her off, despite considering herself vastly superior to them.

Bruce took his finger away from her wet slit with a soft pop. She watched in astonishment as he wiped his finger off on her hair. Then, like she was some piece of hardware he'd just made sure was in good working order, he reset her panties to properly cover her mound.

"Kneel down again," he told her.

Selina paled. "Aren't you going to fuck me?"

"You haven't earned it yet," Bruce said. "You're going to earn it now."

"Oh Christ," Selina said, her frustration mounting and obvious.

Bruce seemed to enjoy it. "On your knees." The roughness in his voice sent a shudder along her spine.

Brooding, she got down on her knees. She looked at his swollen prick without touching it.

"You know what to do," Bruce said.

She looked up at him, blushing at the grim look of lust upon his face. She knew she couldn't hold out against his overwhelming desire. They had both just learned that.

Wetting her lips with her tongue, she slipped her mouth over the engorged knob that was offered to her. But that was all the autonomy Bruce was willing to give her. Venting a deep grunt, he grabbed her by her cowled ears and jammed himself into her mouth. Selina could only gag as he fucked her throat as she'd wished he would pump himself into her sex.

She still sucked, trying to please him, giving him the wet suction that she hoped would be enough to push him over the edge. And soon, he fired into her gullet with a blast of hot cum. Selina gurgled as her throat was filled, gagged even more than she had already been doing as she choked on his cock, but somehow she still sucked at his spurting erection with her soft, pliant mouth. Her tongue whipped against his erection, urging out every volley she could get. Selina hadn't expected so much of it. Bruce's body refused to relax, even as he stuffed her mouth full. He drew himself away from her mouth and continued to come, now launching himself onto her bared breasts, thoroughly whitening them.

Selina knew she should've swallowed, but the burning pleasure she felt demanded expression. "

Ooooo,"

she mewled, letting the cum filling her mouth drool out onto her chin and throat and clavicle.

Her eyes became glassy as she stared at Bruce's prick, watching it firing, seeing how it coursed with liquid power just as she'd felt it doing inside her mouth. She arched her back, thrusting out her hips, her knees wide. Bruce aimed there, coming on her pantied groin as well. Selina whimpered as a sudden climax shook her. She didn't want him to stop, enjoying the warmth of his cum no matter where it covered her. But even Batman could only give so much.

He shook his cock. A few drops landed on Ivy's face. Selina briefly considered going for them, but she had far better targets to seek out. She sat up quickly, closing her mouth on Bruce's cock again, tasting the slight dribble that remained there and vacuuming it into her throat. Now she could feel relaxation spreading through Batman's body.

But it was not to take hold. An

arrow,

of all things, twanged into the cushion that Selina had just vacated, its fletching quivering with the force of the impact. Bruce instantly whirled around, wrenching his half-hard prick from Selina's mouth, identifying the source of the attack even as he drew the grapple-gun from his belt and fired out a line. Not even bothering to zip himself up, he disappeared with the reeling winch of his motorized cable, leaving Selina lying there, covered in cum, blood pounding in her ears, aware vaguely that Harley was nuzzling against her—trying as best she could to sample Batman's seed while bound and gagged. And Ivy, while more reticent, had stretched out a long leg to stroke along Selina's thigh.

***

Bruce took to the rafters where the sniper had attacked from, a bolo already drawn from his utility belt. He sensed movement in the shadows and flung the weapon, twisting his wrist like he was launching a curveball to give the aerodynamically designed bolo a whipping twirl as it flew through the air. It tangled around the dusky silhouette that'd been in motion; Bruce's eyes now picking up what his senses had only felt out before.

As he's suspected from the peculiar weapon used, it was Huntress. And while the bolo might've neutralized a less-trained adversary, Helena was only momentarily inconvenienced. She tore away the bolo's cable like a spider's web as Bruce advanced on her, still not bothering to tuck away his manhood. He did wrap his cape around himself, trying to keep from his countenance how he was using the imposing visage to hide what she must certainly know he'd been doing moments ago. It struck him as hypocritical somehow.

"Carrying a fatal weapon is stupid in the first place," he extolled, tight control keeping his grim voice from becoming a rasp. "Using it when not absolutely necessary is even stupider."

Helena's costume all but displayed her body. Her arms were bare except for opera-length gloves, her legs the same with thigh-high boots. Even the leotard she wore from her caped neck to her bikinied crotch had a large cut-out panel running from the bottoms of her large breasts to just above her groin. The glass-cutting hardness of her abs and the small puckered scars of the bullet wounds the Joker had inflicted on her couldn't diminish the attraction of so much supple skin, anymore than what body armor she did wear could erase the flesh exposed at her toned thighs and plush lips. Bruce wondered, with Helena's yen for fetishism, if her 'cold shoulders' look was meant to show off her biceps or her armpits. From the gossip he picked up, Helena wouldn't look amiss at interested parties.

And now, her blue eyes shot to his hidden crotch, as if wondering when he'd found time in that split-second of action to secret himself away. "It was a misfire, alright? Oh, I forgot—the great Batman never makes mistakes. All of us mere mortals have to do penance for not being as perfect as he is."

"I don't expect perfection. I expect competence."

"I've been giving you competence since the day I got here, you fucking—"

Bruce ignored her, eyes slanting to the crossbow fallen to the grated floor of the catwalk. He noticed it had a sniper scope installed. "You were watching," he interrupted, not bothering to make it a question.

"Yeah? What the fuck was I watching, huh? What were you doing? Goddamn hypocrite—those three should be on their way to jail, not penning their letters to the Penthouse Forum!"

"You could've arrested them," Bruce observed neutrally, knowing his cool voice was a goad to the raging Huntress.

"What are you implying, huh? What are you goddamn saying?"

"Did it make you jealous, seeing what Catwoman and I were doing?"

Helena sputtered. "Jealous? What—fuck you! You put yourself out as some paragon of virtue—"

"I never said I was virtuous," Bruce pointed out, watching the glint of Helena's crucifix flitter about on her heaving breasts as she moved around in fitful Italian gesturing.

"Judging me about everything," Helena pressed on, "how I dress, who I fuck, how I fight crime! You think I'm a slut, don't you?"

She was in such a paroxysm of rage that she seized him by the lapels like a common skel, inadvertently drawing his cape up and away from the position in which it had covered his manhood.

"I'm not a—" Helena broke off as she saw his gathering erection, slanting up into the air and growing taller with each passing moment. "Oh my God..."

Bruce took a step towards her. Helena backed up, whimpering, before his outthrust cock could touch her bare flesh through the window in her leotard. It suddenly seemed like his masculinity was aimed directly at her womb.

"You give me the most trouble of any of my soldiers," Bruce said, the coldness of his voice contrasting dramatically with the furious heat of his throbbing erection.

When Helena looked at his face, she saw the same maddeningly controlled Batman she was used to feuding with. When she looked down, she saw a beast, slavering, ravenous, about to pounce. She didn't know how both could fit in the same body.

Perhaps it was the same as her: trying to be a good Catholic even as she wrecked bloody vengeance on her enemies. Maybe that was why there was always such friction between them. She and Batman were just too much alike.

"If I bench you, you'll go out on the streets anyway. You're not enough of a criminal to arrest... not enough of a soldier to fall in line. What's to be done with you, Huntress?"

Helena made a conscious choice to hold her ground. If Batman pressed that cock up against her, let him. It wouldn't change anything.

But she found herself respectfully refraining from profanity as she said "You don't get to choose what happens to me."

"I do," Bruce assured her, with such confidence that Helena could've nodded along like she was listening to a sermon. "In this war, I need soldiers who follow orders. You're no good to me if you're a loose cannon. So I can either punish you and hope you learn your lesson—or I can be charitable. Reward you, even though you don't deserve it. And once you've tasted the rewards of being a good girl... maybe you'll keep being one."

A. Punish Huntress.

B. Reward Huntress.