When Dick Grayson turned eighteen a few months ago, his mentor and guardian bought him two new motorcycles. One for normal day riding, to and from school, going out on dates, just bumming around, the other was for his night job, as Batman's sidekick Robin.
Robin opened his eyes slowly as consciousness returned. He felt a soft surface beneath him and was warm and comfortable. This was a problem. The last thing he remembered was parking his bike, pulling out his grappling gun and climbing the alley wall. He had not felt the pin prick in his neck that had started this whole sequence.
Looking around he noted that the walls of the room he was in were done in various shades of pink. The bed he was reclined on was soft, pink very large and had a pink canopy. He tried to sit up, but his body would not respond. As his senses started to report to him, he noticed things were not quite what they should have been.
His chest felt heavy, his costume did not feel like it had before, the tight Kevlar reinforced leather did not breathe like whatever he was wearing now. His eyes darted around the room, but he could not take in anymore information from his current position. He tried to turn his head and again nothing happened.
The head of the bed started to rise, much as a hospital bed would and Robin looked around the rest of the room. There were stuffed animals everywhere, a large flat panel screen on the wall at the foot of the bed and soft soothing music played through hidden speakers. He looked down and inhaled sharply in shock, just about the only movement he had left.
His black and red costume was gone and in its place was something like the first costume he wore as Robin. It was all red; the green shorts he had worn were gone and replaced with a skirt. The tights were completely missing and the ankle boots were replaced with knee high boots, with platform soles and four inch heels. His gloves were missing and most importantly, he could see that the weight on his chest was due to breasts that seemed to have sprung up there.
Just as he was starting to panic, the screen on the wall flared to life and Robin found himself looking at three of the most dangerous women in Gotham, Catwoman, Poison Ivy and Harleyquinn. He tried to speak, but his mouth still would not obey.
"Good Morning Robin." The three chorused smiling. "We trust you slept well while your body changed."
Robin grunted in reply, even the sound came out higher than before.
"Don't try to talk." Ivy said. "Your voluntary nervous system has been shut down temporarily while your body changes. But don't worry; we will fill you in on all the lovely changes you are going through. You see, regardless of whatever else they have done, the Joker and Mr. Freeze are both geniuses and talented scientists."
"Mr. J. had the idea of turning Batman into a weak old man to stop him from bothering us." Harley said. "I mentioned it to Red and Kitty here and they suggested that we try something a little different. So we dropped an anonymous tip at police head quarters as to the Mr. J's hideout and let the Batman take him in."
'We then dropped a subtle hint with Mr. Freeze and left him to design a way to pull the Joker's idea off." Catwoman said. "We kept tabs on his work and when he was just about ready to implement the plan we again tipped off the police."
Robin remembered the two arrests. He and Batman had taken both the Joker and Mr. Freeze down before they could pull off major robberies, or at least that was what the tips and evidence showed. Now he knew that it was all a plan to get at him. He could remember the actual work, but it was like he was watching a video, he felt completely disconnected from the memory, as if it happened to someone else.
