Chapter 8: Nightwing Decides to Try a New Tactic

The Zee Moores is a testament to Blüdhaven’s perverted nature corrupting even the most extraordinary acts of altruism. Hundreds of acres north in the city developed into complexes for low-income families, homes made for thousands of the city’s poor, all paid for by philanthropist Zafira Moore.

Her selfless work was rewarded by the blocks devolving into the cities largest slum. The jungle of high-rise poverty transformed into a critical area in illicit trade, a black bazaar of illegal goods and services.

Such a purveyor of vice Nightwing found herself within. She kicked the last of the gangster girls running a counterfeit operation, knocking them into a table of their contraband. It was a small consolidation for what turned out to be yet another fruitless lead.

Nightwing took time from her day job to do some groundwork on this particular end of the underworld. In a **** search for actionable intel to release her dependency on Soames.

The corrupt inspector had no intention of giving any helpful information anytime soon if at all, keeping the voluptuous heroine in the dark to fulfill her needs. Instead, using Nightwing to serve a mysterious agenda she needs to uncover. And using her to satisfy her craving for a big booty bitch.

Nightwing needed to get out of the molesting grip Soames had on her ASS.

Unfortunately, the more lucrative targets she would like to investigate are, at this point, out of her reach. The baronesses of Blüdhaven are too well-entrenched. Confronting them now, with insufficient knowledge, would only end up with her getting gangbanged.

But from what she’s learned, the Moores have no boss bitch ruling over this territory. Instead, every block has a trick running their little fief-hustle, making up the district’s wide-ranging services. As a result, the much smaller operations would be easier to tackle and dig up some juicy info.

Or so she believed. She crawled out of this den of villainy unsatisfied. The latest in over a dozen operations she’s busted so far, they’ve given her nothing of use on the changing tides in the underworld. Most of these criminal sluts are too small, barely knowing anything beyond their minor concerns, and too low to know anything at the top. And there were a hundred more out there. It could take her weeks to go through every little group in the Moores.

Thankfully, the counterfeit gig gave her something a little more promising. After some convincing, they told her to seek the only graffiti-free building in the south area. A mobile office trailer that’s the closest thing to a bank for thirty blocks. Outwardly it’s a place to cash DPA and social security checks. Yet after scouting out the site from the rooftops, Nightwing’s hasn’t seen a welfare mom or senior, only girls entering with bags of money and leaving with nothing.

She was told this is the primary place for laundering in The Moore’s, and the woman running it has a keener ear to the greater going-on. Thus, Nightwing decided to make an appointment for herself, dropping down, quietly dispatching the guards, and entering.

“Are you Shulamith Tamara Ali?”

The North African woman stopped counting her cash and raised her head to the costume woman who invited herself. “Depends. Who’s askin’?”

Nightwing glared at her in the shadows. The heroine and criminal shared a steely gaze for a tense few seconds. Nightwing didn’t allow herself to budge from Ali’s menacing front. The worst of Gotham didn’t break her. What could she do?

“Soames sent you?” she demanded, catching Nightwing for only a moment.

Well, if Soames was going to use me for her dirty work, I’ll return the favor. “Yes, she did.” Let’s try throwing her name out and see what advantages it gives her. Risky, but Nightwing was ready for anything this minor crime boss had for her.

Except for her to make a broad, lecherous grin like it was her birthday. “I can’t believe that shifty bitch remembered my birthday! And got me a present.”

Nightwing froze.

“Damn, she must’ve put out serious cash for a sexy slut like you!”

Does she thinks I’m some call-order stripper?!

“And how did she know I was into latex?”

Oh, goddess, she does!

“I-It’s not latex. It’s a polykevlar….” she meekly stammered and trailed off. “Goddess damn Soames! I take back mostly everything I said about you. You’re a crooked bitch, but you came through!”

More tense seconds passed—this time from Shumalith leering with expectation, drooling over her “entertainment” for the day. And Nightwing was still reeling from the shock.

“Well, you gonna get started, baby?” The sudden question jerked Nightwing out of it. Out of reaction, she started moving her hips from side to side. She was still stuck with indecision as her mind tried to compose itself. Fortunately, her body reacted and took up the slack.

Unfortunately, the monotonous barley dancing was bland. Nightwing was moving like some sheltered girl trying to figure out what being sexy even meant. Her act went on for a little too long, obviously not leading anywhere.

If it weren’t for the broad curve of her breeder body and size of her recently expanded (much to her ignorance) cheeks, Shumalith would have been immediately disappointed with her “birthday gift.”

But the criminal’s eyes went from the hips back to Nightwing’s embarrassed face, now looking impatient. “You doin’ a warm-up? Cuz it’s going too long.”

Nightwing had to do something, at least to give herself more time to make sense of this and get back on track. So she put more effort into her hips. She bent her knees to put in more sway, raised her arms to show off her trim, thin waist, and reluctantly shimmied her torso. She upgraded into a wallflower dancing at homecoming.

It at least alleviated the criminal. So soothed that Shumalith reached down into her pants and gave herself slow strokes. Nightwing blushed at the blatancy and had to turn herself away in embarrassment, which allowed Ali her first full glimpse of Nightwing’s booty cheeks.

She ogled the biggest ASS she’s seen in person. “MMMMMmmmm, a triple-stacked set of pound cakes. Delicious~!” She moaned as her hands went faster.

Goddess, this is NOT how this should’ve gone. How could I let this get out of my control? Bats would have never let herself get reduced to some awkward two-left feet. She would have had this small timer on her knees. How could I have allowed myself into this?

“Damn girl, you’re a work of art. You look so good in that latex!” Shulamith was not paying attention to Nightwing’s humiliation and admonishment. She was too busy staring in awe at her divine body encased in her misclassified suit. It outlined every single slight crevice and abundant contours of her natural, bodacious body. She looked naked despite being fully clothed.

Even more, was her ASS. Despite Nightwing’s **** movements, the large size, spherical roundness, and profound protrusion of her superhero booty made up for it. The fat cheeks traveled another second after the hips stopped, slapping together when she reversed her movement.

Regardless of Nightwing’s acceptance of this situation, she realized the little crime boss was agreeable for some questioning. No use wasting an opening.

“So...Uh” What do you do for work? The sign outside said you can cash checks.”

“Wh-Wha? Work?” Hearing a question bewildered Shulamith, but a quick and **** hip thrust regained her compliance. “Uhhhh, I-ah. I handle money for the community.”

“So you’re a banker? Because this doesn’t look like a bank.”

“Well, you could say I bank for those who can’t turn to more...conventional institutions.”

Got proof in her own words, Nightwing extrapolated as she did a rapid shake-shake-shimmy in her delight. An artery like a money operation could be the break I need! I should push this further!

“And how big is it?”

“Big? Oh, it’s huge, baby. It’s thick, robust, and long-reaching. More than enough to satsifty~!”

“N-No! Your financial services!”

“You want service, girl? I can give you of service for you, Long as you do the same for me~!”

Perhaps this should have been expected from trying to question a horny criminal. But Nightwing didn’t heed that. Instead, she was frustrated and flustered by the embarrassing and stimulating dancing she cornered herself into doing.

And with that came a crucial error. “N-No! Tell me about how your business works!”

The mistake came immediately when the jerking off stopped.

“Baby girl, I don’t wanna talk about business. It’s supposed to be my special day! You’re killing my buzz.”

Nightwing’s inelegant demand caused the lust in Shumalith’s brain to dwindle, loosened the enchantment, making her contemplating other things than ASS. “In fact, what’s a stripper doing asking about all this. You’re starting to sound like a cop!” Shulamith’s hands were twitching, definitely readying to reach for her pistol.

Oh no, this is bad. Nightwing wasn’t worried about something as non-threatening as a gun. She could disarm the little lord before she even raised her arm. But Shulamith looked like the most promising lead she got so far, one she got all on her own, not from Soames. Or from The Bat. She couldn’t lose this.

In another act of desperation and a deeply ingrained impulse, she gave herself two sharp juicy SLAP SLAP to her ASSCHEEKS with both palms, gripping them and shaking them around.

Seeing how they overflowed between her fingers, how she could barely hold them. How wildly her hands jostled them despite how overshadowed they were in size. That brought the irritated criminal back under and saved Nightwing from her clumsy blunder.

She let go of her booty cheeks after lifting them so high they nearly touched the small of her back. Both of the masses fell with a strong TWACK onto the back of her thighs and jiggle jiggle jiggle jiggled for a few long seconds.

Real smooth girl, Nightwing reprimanded herself. Let’s try this again, more carefully this time.

“S-s-so, back to what I was saying….”

“Aw Baby comeoooooooonnn~! I don’t wanna talk about work. It’s my birthday. Your sounding like my ex.”

‘S-sorry…” Nightwing petered out and went back to shaking her cheeks. She didn’t want to try pressing again, but this was going nowhere. With how things ended up, she can’t flip this into a conventional interrogation. It would likely end up with Ali reaching for her gun, getting knocked out, and Nightwing leaving again with nothing to show.

But. Based on empirical evidence, there is one thing that has proven itself to work. Technically two phat, thicc, bubble-shaped, twerkable, and big, big, big, BIG things can get Nightwing what she needs.

Pop and rock dat’ ASS!

But she couldn't use her body like that!

Yes, she’s fully aware of the lust people have for her body. Going back to her days as Robin, she’s long used to criminal scum, grateful citizenry, and even the beautiful women in the superhero community looking at her like she’s some piece of sexy fat-filled meat. And she appreciates the attention from those she wants to receive it. Two certain redheads come to mind immediately.

But she’s not some slut! She couldn’t bring herself to gyrate herself to pop femme boners, using her curves to mesmerize women, smothering minds under her abundance. Desperately craving to dine on femme cocks like some jizz junkie. Acting like all she was, and is, is ASS!

I can’t act like some lewd woman! That's not what Superheroes do. That’s not what Good Girls do.

Ri Ri, shaking it like a phat ASS bimbo slut is EXACTLY what Good Girls do.

A thought interjected. A Good Girl would use her goddess-blessed bootylicious fuckdoll body to bang some boners and make women into your bitches. That ASS you have is POWER. And you can use it on this trick to get what you need.

Or you could try your usual thing, pretending your Big Ol’ Batsy, mess up again, and waste this lead.

But how? What should I do?

Just emulate what you've seen, babe. And your body will take care of the rest.

Well, she can’t just keep standing here shaking her hips. The evidence doesn’t lie. A little bit of indulging in this tactic has shown effective. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to PUMP IT UP!

She searched her mind for a reference, an example she could emulate. Her mind felt guided to President Catwoman’s debates, particularly against the visiting Queen Bee of Bialya.

Nightwing suddenly stopped, posed with her left hip cocked. Again, Shumalith stopped her jerking off, but this time in curiosity rather than discontent.

In Nightwing’s mind, a beat thumbed. An eerily familiar party raising and ASS pumping track filed her body. She bounced on the toes of her left foot, building up her momentum to the wobbling bass and treble.

Thump

Thump

Thump

Thump

Then ROCKED her hips, nothing like the timid shimmy she's been doing, but POPPING with all her lower might, and her ASSCHEEKS swung like a wild see-saw.

Uh

Uh

Uh

Uh

Nightwing gave all of herself to her moves, flexing her core back and forth. Arms raised for counterbalance, her thick quaking thighs on the floor firm like a pillar but moving like a spring. Her entire feminine silhouette was moving with erotic precision.

Baby, Baby!

Rock, Rock!

Once again, she displayed a masterful ability at ASS SHAKIN’. Doing sublime work with skills she never realized she had within herself.

Baby, Baby!

Drop, Drop!

Nightwing’s hips mightily drove up and down. Her recently fattened cheeks SMACKED and SLAPPED heavily into themselves. Rhythmically clap-clap-clapping as toys to the dirty beat in her mind.

Let Me See That Booty BOUNCE!

“Mmmmaaaaaah~! Ooooooooooh Goddess!” The impacts traveled through the young heroine’s valley of ASS, meeting at the center of her sensitive anal ring. The pleasure coursing through the rest of her body, breaking down any remaining **** and hesitation. Her plump pussy was already drenched and throbbing with the beats.

It was doing even more to Shulamith, her brain turning to pudding as her eyes locked onto the sight of that beautiful, rippling, globular, jello booty clapping, completely under ASSNOSIS. While her hand was like a train piston on her femme cock, and her right shoving all four fingers into her snatch.

Nightwing retained enough sense to capitalize. “Oooooh! T-tell me about the Moores.” SMACK “How does it fit into Blüdhaven’s underworld.” She managed to utter as she slapped her left cheek and made her booty rumble even harder.

Through the panting and grunting of her vigorous jerkoff, she Obeyed. “T-the Moore’s has ha-hundreds of people like me, hhhhHAHHHAAAAA~!!” She spurted her first of many ejaculations from her cockhead and pussylips. “Oooooohhhhh, workinnnn’ every hustle there is for this city,” she slurred.

"Aaaaaahhhhhh!” Nightwing enjoyed an orgasm via twerking. “Is that why no one of the major bosses has taken over the Moores?” she continued, trying out one move Catwoman did, bending her upper body forward and twirling her plump peach in circles.

“Yeah, Baby!” The butt-addled boss cried, either in confirmation or from her fourth cock spurting and pussy spewing. “There’s-s-s, Oh! OOOH! OOOOOHHHHH!!! Too many of us for any of us for the biggest bosses to overcome, OOOFFFFUUUUCK DAT JIGGLIN’. They call us ants. But were too much for them to handle.”

Work It, Work It!

Clap! Clap!

“When they try to take us over. We, swarm em'.”

Twerk It, Twerk It!

Clap! Clap!

"An they need us, we give the city every vice it needs to run."

Let me see that Booty BOUNCE!

Bounce! Bounce!

Clap! Clap!

“Oh! OH, GODDESS!” Shumalith Cried from the second, then a third orgasm. “Hooooaaahhhh~! Madame Minh was the last to try, an’ all she did was….”

Nightwing didn’t hear the last part because she sprung on her soles. She hopped to the point where her toes were barely touching the floor. As gravity took her back down, she made sure to land with her knees bent. Allowing her ASS to travel further down as she followed the momentum. Resulting in her cheeks meeting with a thunderous

CLAP! CLAP!

She sprung off for another

CLAP! CLAP!

The shockwaves of booty pushed Shumalith back in her chair and made her beat her fist even harder on the cum-leaking organ between her legs.

Both women were drunk on Nightwing’s donk, intoxicated by the sights and clapping sound mixed with the growing heady smell of Shulamith’s cum spew. Shumalith was beyond aroused, eager to Obey what the ASS commanded of her. But Nightwing was finding it harder to focus on questioning through the hip-bucking haze. But she soldiered through the pleasure.

"Wuh~! Whuddou mean? What are the notable hustlers in...in...OOOOOhhhhhhAAAAH~!”

She couldn’t finish, too busy shuddering when another twerkgasm hit her.

But Ali seemed to understand enough to answer and was better than Nightwing at talking and cumming simultaneously. “Ooooaaahhhhhh, I’m a pretty big, AH! FUCK, Deal. I run the cash for most of-ooooohhh~!” Fifth cum eruption. “ohhhhoooof-of all the notable game in...” BUMPIN’ BUMPIN’ BOOTY THUMPIN’!

"So Fuckin' GOOOOOOOOOOD!” Sixth. "There are so many pushers you can’t count em’, but, Oh! GAWDESSSSSSS!” Another twerkgasam for Nightwing. “The most notable in…."

WORK IT WORK IT! GOTTA TWERK IT!

"...runs all of smugglin’ through the warehouses in…"

BABY BABY! MAKE ME CRAZY!

“...got some connection with Madam Minh’s Triads…”

LET ME SEE THAT BOOTY BOUNCE!

BOUNCE! BOUNCE!

CLAP! CLAP!

Nightwing could barely hear Ali over the sounds of her cheeks smacking. Or process it because of the brain-scrambling ASS EUPHORIA. As a result, she was losing essential bits of her compromising the criminal community.

She tried to get herself to focus as the laundering lord detailed the inner working of the Moores. But her body focused on more important things like gyrating. When she tried to make out how the goods and services flowed and to whom, Nightwing swung her hips in circles. Her cheeks wobbled to and fro like gelatin. When she explained how they connected to the major syndicates and critical players in the relationship, her palms overflowed with her tits as she wantonly groped them.

Ali’s voice faded into white noise from the undulations, her ASS flying, bouncing, and shaking. It smothered her mind under the erotic tactile feeling coursing her jiggling body.

CLAP! CLAP!

CLAP! CLAP!

CLAP! CLAP!

CLAP! CLAP!

Nightwing couldn’t say when she perched herself on Ali’s desk. Back turned to the little crime boss squatting, legs split, giving the criminal an up-close look of how thicc she was—dribbling her ASS on Ali’s desk for some relentless in-her-face twerking.

The music in her head, the jiggling of her body, smashed any thought that wasn’t about her ASS and how she can SHAKE IT, SHAKE IT, MAKE IT ROCK!!! TWERK IT, TWERK IT! DROP! DROP!!!

This tactic was going too far. Nightwing stopped asking questions entirely, wholly given in to her ASS. This becomes less of a means to an end and becomes the rear end for itself.

She needed to stop.

She needed to focus.

She needed to pivot herself, so she was facing the sitting Ali and undo the front of her so-tight sluttyhero costume until it showed her sweaty gleaming skin down to the last inch before her hairless pussy.

Her steaming flesh is bare in what is increasingly starting to feel like a darkened private room in a club. With her breath coming out in visible puffs of mist and Ali’s breath hitting her and making her skin light up.

As she looked down at Shumalith’s drooling ASS DOMINATED face, Nightwing had only one rational neuron left not taken over by ASS. Thus, it only had the chance to ask one question before it fell as well.

This one had to count. Nightwing needed to ask the most critical question. To make sure she accomplishes the reason that she's here. To get what she wanted.

“Don’t you wanna feel my fat, juicy ASS pumping your cock?”

The big booty bitch pounced to Shumalith, mounting perfectly on her lap, and embraced the criminal. Her cock lurched up into the air and SMACKED Nightwing’s ass like a bat. Instantly the launderer’s hands grasp the sides of her cheeks to make an even tighter grip for herself. Nightwing put her own hands to assist. Her cock throbbed in the ASSCHEEKS grip, already spewing out its thick contents.

“MRRRRRGGGGGGGGAAaaaahhhhhh~!!!”

“F-FUCK! FUCKING ASS! SSHO GOOOOOOOODDD~!!!”

Both criminal and hero bucked and mewled like animals, their brain functions rerouted to focusing on hotdogging. Shumalith launched her hips up as Nightwing twerked her gorgeous bubble butt down. They wobbled and bounced against each other, smacking against each other. Both were working together to pump Shumalith’s cock.

The heaving shaft’s owner gasped short, shuddering breaths. She pathetically tried to maintain her grasp, yet Nightwings ASS was too expansive for her to handle. This beautiful sex doll on top of her was more than she could bear. She craned her neck and kissed the hero she thought was a stripper.

The hero that might as well be a stripper felt the smooches on the nape of her neck. She moved her head down from its raised, ahegao marred point. Her eyes focused on the criminal scum jerking off with her ASS.

As Shumalith ferociously thrust her hips and Nightwing bounced all over her cock, they were both crying out in tender bliss. Their open mouths were inches from one another, tongue out like bitches in heat. Neither wanted this to end!

“O-ohhhHHH! OOOOOHHHHH~! Obey the ASS~!!” They both cried.

Nightwing rose herself up off of Shumalith between her cheeks. She was lining her pussy up to take this to the next level.

Alas, the long-stroke coming off her femme cock was the last straw for Shumalith. She came for the last time, her most considerable load of the day and the biggest she ever spent. It rose above both of them, hitting the ceiling and rained on her desk, Nightwing’s back and face.

Seeing her spasm made Nightwing cum as well. Her pussy ejaculated a massive, girly orgasm on Shumalith’s crotch like a sloppy slut.

Once Nightwing finally collected herself, she saw that Shulamith Tamara Ali was out. So all that big talk, and she lost from an ASSJOB.

Nightwing got off of the incapacitated launderer and stood herself up. She felt the jizz trailing down her back and a good amount going down between her still exposed tits and stomach. She squirmed at the feeling, yet she didn’t bother to try and clean it off. A substantial part of her maybe even liked it?

Well, since she had the office to herself, why not take a better look at what she’s got. Those files that were behind her looked important.

After a few minutes of scrounging, Nightwing walked out with some duffle bags. Though she did not fill them with money, leaving the cum stained wads of cash alone. Inside was much more valuable to her. All the files that she could stuff into them. The documentation of how Shumalith manipulated the broken welfare system to launder the community’s money. And where it went.

Even with how thoroughly compromised her operation was, the minor mob boss wouldn't, entirely worth it.

“Happy birthday Shumalith, I'll just take your files as my payment. I'm sure you won't mind.” Just like "she" though, she was able to walk out of the front door.

…..

This was a big win for Nightwing and one she needed. It made the raids tedious raids worth it in the end. And no big blunder to sour her triumph.

Yet, she was not acknowledging how she achieved this accomplishment. Instead, trying to ignore the jizz still staining her still unzipped suit and her exposed cum painted skin suit. Along with her pussyjuice drenched inside her suit.

Ultimately, this was a productive lesson for her future as a Twerk-Slut. Nightwing’s body already knows what it’s destined to become. Blüdhaven’s perverted nature, the perversion of Goddess Catwoman’s universe, is warping her acts of heroism for the better.

The stubborn bimbo just needs to stop thinking with her head. Her silly brain just needs to stop thinking of stupid things not related to twerking her beautiful ASS.

Regardless, this was an excellent step. With the success of her new approach, hopefully, she would consider it for the future.