The worst part about waking up after having been knocked unconscious is the realization that you don't know where you are.
Well... maybe the splitting headache. Or the harsh ringing in the ears. But the not knowing where you are is at least one of the three worst things about getting knocked unconscious.
Tommy currently didn't know where he was. He knew he was on his back, lying on what felt like a mattress. He was blindfolded and his hands and legs were bound. He panicked for a second until he realized he was still safely in his Batsuit. He sighed in relief.
Tommy tried to remember what had happened. He remembered that he had talked to Zatanna and then... Tommy smiled. Then he had been... talking to Batgirl, he thought? And after that... nothing. He couldn't remember.
Tommy shook his hands, testing his constraints. They were tight. He couldn't hear anything over the ringing in his ears. He calmed himself,
closing his eyes and thinking hard. What would Batgirl do to get out of a situation like this? He lifted his hips and bounced down. 'Still have my utility belt,' He thought. Whoever attacked him must have been afraid to take it off. Slowly, a plan formed in his mind.
Over the ringing in his ears, Tommy became aware of a door opening. He tried to count the footsteps but it was too cluttered together for him to make sense of it. All he could tell was that it was getting closer.
The bed squeaked once to his right. Then once to his left. Then everywhere numerous times. 'Someone's jumping on the bed,' Tommy thought. The person jumped once and was off the bed for longer than normal. They came crashing down and landed on Tommy's stomach, causing him to exhale hard. He could feel that they were straddling him.
The blindfold came off Tommy's face and he blinked repeatedly. 'Also, sensitivity to light,' He thought, mentally adding to his checklist of the worst things about getting knocked out. The light was coming from above him and it made it hard to see the 3 figures on his bed. His eyes were so bleary he could barely hear them.
The one on his left was wearing something tight and black. Her cleavage was supple. She was smiling. She had nice lips, Tommy thought. Green eyes shone at him.
The on on his right was a little bigger. Bustier, at least. All Tommy could see was the hint of green.
The one straddling him Tommy could see a little better. She was... a nurse?
'No, not a nurse,' Tommy corrected; a nurse's uniform but not a nurse. Something about it made it seem off or strained.Tommy tried to make out her face but it seemed to be whited out. As he strained, he could just see that it was makeup.
Tommy fought through the haze. Gradually, it came together: black skintight costume, someone covered in green, a person who wore makeup and would jump on the bed... Tommy realized who had captured him. He had been "intimately" involved with all three. All three had reason to want him dead.
"I'm screwed," Tommy muttered.
***
(5 minutes earlier...)
"Okay, how do you want to do this?" Catwoman asked impatiently. She was starting to think that maybe joining up with these two other supervillains wasn't the best idea.
Her two compatriots, Poison Ivy & Harley Quinn, were... temperamental. Ever since they had left Arkham, Catwoman had dealt with petty squabbles and personality quirks. Ivy was consumed with desire to kill Batman and all men in general, while Harley... was Harley. There were times that she was lucid and somewhat genius; her plan to get them out of Arkham was perfect. Other times, though... Catwoman watched Harley pushing the two ends of her ponytail together, smiling with glee, and sighed.
And Catwoman wasn't quite sure that she even wanted to kill Batman. Sure, he was the one who put her in prison but Catwoman couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't meant to do so. The fact that their rooftop rendezvous had been so brief, followed by nothing, had left Catwoman feeling unfulfilled.
'Or unfilled,' Catwoman thought as she felt her pussy tingle.
Catwoman came back to the conversation as Ivy was talking. "...Else is there to do? Batman must die. I can either poison him or rip him apart!" Ivy was getting flush just thinking about it.
"...I don't know," Catwoman said. "We have Batman captured. Think of how many places we could rob without him there to ruin our plans? Gotham could be ours! I think we should hit up some banks."
"I didn't get out of Arkham to rob some banks," Ivy said with contempt. "I'm here to kill the Bat. As the preeminent symbol of the male patriarchy, Batman is-"
"Oh god, here we go," Catwoman said, throwing up her hands.
Ivy looked at her with malice. "What's your problem?"
"All the time with you and the patriarchy," Catwoman responded. "Can't we just steal shit without dressing it up in some noble cause? You really need to get laid more."
Ivy's eyes went wide. Barely holding back her rage, she spat at Catwoman. "We are going to kill Batman, end of story!"
"No we're not," Catwoman shot back. "We are going to use this opportunity to get rich!"
"I say we suck his dick!"
"Shut up, Har... wait, what?" Catwoman looked at Harley Quinn confusedly. Ivy had the same expression on her face.
"You know..." Harley said. She brought her closed fist up to her mouth, bobbing her head up and down on it. Her other hand went to the back of her head and she shoved her head forward, bulging her eyes as she did so. Then she jerked her closed fist back and forth before exploding it into her face; she gave a small moan and stuck out her tongue.
Catwoman watched with bafflement. "No, I know how to suck di... WHY would he suck his dick?"
Harley shrugged. "I don't know. Why not?"
Both Catwoman and Ivy struggled for a response. Harley looked at them expectantly. Ivy finally spoke.
"Because... because we hate him, that's why! You hate him more than anyone, Harl!"
"Doesn't mean I can't enjoy his dick," Harley said matter-of-factly. Catwoman & Ivy couldn't tell if she was being insane or not. "Didn't you two like getting fucked by him? I haven't felt the same since."
