"Oh fuck," Tommy moaned, his hands tightening their grip on Black Canary's hair. She had deepthroated him, her tongue extending outwards and just touching the base of Tommy's balls. Canary pulled Tommy's dick out of her mouth and stroked his shaft with her hand. She looked up at him and smiled.
"It want you," Tommy told her. He badly wanted to be inside her.
Canary nodded eagerly. She suddenly hopped up and ran across the Clocktower to a chest of drawers; reaching into it, she pulled out what looked like a choker. Tommy got a little excited, wondering what sort of thing Canary was planning.
"I forgot I had this," She said, putting on the choker. It had a small disc that Canary placed on her neck and was bound with a leather strap. "The old Batman gave this to me. It nullifies my voice so I don't break anything. It was originally designed for use against a different villain but it does the job. Should make it easier for us, in case you make me... y'know..."
Tommy smiled. He remembered the other night, when he had gone down on her and her orgasmic groan had put a crack in the face of the giant clock in her hideout.
"Good thinking," Tommy said. Canary jumped on top of him and Tommy rolled her over. He entered her and they both groaned loudly.
***
Tommy was out patrolling the territory Barbara had assigned him, running the long route along the water that was generally a hot spot of crime. The night had gone well: first, he had fucked Black Canary (which was generally the highlight of his nights); then, he had stopped a group of criminals from knocking over a jewelry store and had prevented a mugging.
As Tommy traversed the roof tops of Gotham, he was feeling pretty good. Two things were preventing him from feeling great, though. He felt about Nightwing; he had screwed over the poor kid by screwing his ex-girlfriend and her best friend 3 nights before. He had tried to reach out to Dick but he had gotten nothing. He was no longer sleeping at Wayne Manor and Tommy couldn't find him.
The other thing that was preventing him from feeling great was the inescapable feeling that he was being followed. Tommy searched behind him but could find nothing. Everything was dark, but even with his night vision there were no signs of anyone there. He shrugged and kept moving, looking for a crime to thwart. As he did so, he thumbed the voice nullifier Canary had slipped into his utility belt before he left her.
"In case we run into each other tonight," She had whispered into his ear, her hand sliding over his dick. Just thinking about it made him uncomfortably hard.
Tommy stopped on top of a building and surveyed. He checked behind him once again, seeing nothing, and waited. As he did, he suddenly heard a high-pitched wail. It sounded like a wind tunnel, or a jet engine, a high whine that seemed to pierce the sonic dampeners in his cowl. Tommy shook his head, wondering if maybe he had knocked something loose in his head. But no, the sound was still there.
Somewhat more distressingly, it was getting closer.
Tommy looked into the sky and could saw, to his amazement, that someone was flying through the air. The figure was dark black with only flicks of white, just barely perceptible against the night sky. Tommy was only able to notice the figure because there seemed to be waves emanating from her. Tommy blinked and realized that they were sound waves.
With alarm, Tommy noticed that the figure was turning, falling in the air. Heading right towards him. Tommy scrambled, hoping to avoid them, but it was too late; the figure arced and screamed directly at Tommy, the shockwave sending him skidding across the roof top. He reached for something to hold onto and only just held onto the ladder that hung to the side of the building. Tommy pulled himself up back onto the roof and got a glimpse at his attacker.
The woman (Spectre? Spirit? Tommy wasn't quite sure) was terrifying and haunting. Her skin was blackened, almost as if she had been dipped in ink, but her face and long, flowing hair were shock white. She had black rings around her eyes and shoots of black going in long lines down her hair.
But, at the same time, the weird ghost thing was... kind of hot. Her body was covered in a white bikini bottom that then extended in two vertical stripes that covered her well-sized breasts. The outfit formed a V and seemed to direct the eye towards her pussy. It was a shockingly erotic costume for a ghost and Tommy was embarrassed to note that it gave him a chub.
"Ye got a price on your head, Batman," The creature said to Batman in a thick Irish brogue. It was a comical accent and seemed forced, almost put-upon, and was hard to write. She raced over in a blur and picked Tommy up, holding him high in the air. He hung over the edge of the building, his legs dangling over the side.
Their closeness revealed to Tommy that the woman's mouth had once been sewn shut. Her forearms and lower legs were covered in... not gloves, as they seemed to have flames flowing off of them. But the flames weren't hot. It was something mystical that Tommy couldn't possibly understand. He could understand what the skull earrings on each ear meant, though: it meant trouble.
"Look into the eyes of the Silver Banshee and face your death, Batman," The woman said hauntingly. She brought Tommy's face closer to hers. "Or should I say Bruce Wayne?" Her eyes, normally a ghostly white, suddenly turned a deep black. She stared at Tommy and he could see himself reflected in hers. He waited for something bad to happen.
But, instead, nothing happened. Finally, Tommy gurgled and spoke despite her hand clasped around his neck.
"Uh, is something supposed to be happening?" He asked. He was genuinely curious.
Silver Banshee furrowed her brow in confusion. "I don't understand, this is supposed to work. Dammit!"
Tommy reached around her neck, struggling to get free, and Silver Banshee threw him back across the rooftop in retaliation. He rolled and landed roughly against a 3-foot embankment that cut the roof in two. He lied there, trying to recover, while Silver Banshee tried to figure out what was wrong.
"You're not Bruce Wayne," She said, striding towards Tommy, "So I can't kill ye the traditional way. But I bet blowing you off this rooftop will work." The Silver Banshee opened her mouth to scream. Tommy winced.
But again, what Silver Banshee wanted to happen didn't. Banshee screamed and then winced, her scream cut short. She felt her throat and noticed that there was a small round disc against her throat. It had a leather strap around it, holding it tight against her throat.
"What sorcery is this?" She exclaimed. She tugged at the device.
"I wouldn't do tha-" Tommy started to say. Banshee ignored him and suddenly a jolt of electricity shot through her, forcing her to to her knees. She coughed and looked at Tommy, wild-eyed.
"What did ye do to me?" She asked him.
"What I did to ye," He said, mocking her accent, "Was put a nullifier on your throat. It'll prevent you from using that scream of yours by sending it right back to you. And it has a shock on it if you try to remove it with the wrong DNA. I whipped it up." Tommy tried to sound arrogant; he figured the real Batman would be at this moment.
"Curse y... you," Banshee said, twisting her mouth awkwardly to form the unfamiliar word. "I was only trying to get my book of the occult back."
