Epilogue: Batbreeder IV: Whatever Happened To Lex Luthor?

A beacon against the clouds. An old man, whose eyes scanned the skies. Patient, waiting, but edgy. A file gripped in his hand. Batman circled the roof once, out of sight, just to make sure that the Commissioner didn't have anyone else with him...but no, he was alone tonight. The Caped Crusader waited until he back was turned, and then stepped forward, light as a feather.

"Jim."

Gordon half-jumped, twirled. His moustache bristled, for half a minute, and then he calmed down.

"Lex Luthor has been missing for two months," Commissioner Gordon said. "His security service waited while they conducted their own investigation, but the trail's gone cold. So they turned to the Gotham Police Department."

"Not Metropolis," Batman said. "He disappeared here?"

"Their head of security—Mercy Graves—she's holding something back. Won't say why he was here, but she's given lots of details. His schedule, last known check in, some of the security measures Luthor used to protect himself. Full track of his movement...up until he disappeared."

"Who have you assigned to the case?"

"Bullock. He won't make anything of it. His current theory is that Luthor slipped his security detail and went for a prostitute. Spent the last two days checking John Does in the city morgue. The mayor's office is giving me some...odd pressure. I think LexCorp is leaning on them for results."

Batman held out his hand. Gordon sighed and handed him the folder. They shared a comradely nod...and then the Caped Crusader stepped back into the night. Gordon waited, ears tense for the whine of the Batplane's engines...and hearing nothing, he went and switched off the signal. It was out of his hands, now.

Two things caught Batman's attention, back at the cave. One: two months ago had not been Luthor's first trip to Gotham in a while; there were records of his regular trips to the city over the previous weeks, without any particular explanation. Two: He wasn't the only one to have searched for Luthor's whereabouts over that period. There were traces of the older search in the Batcomputer's search history...the secret search history which would not be affected if one of the regular users deleted their search, as he had taught all of his associates how to do.

Lex Luthor's previous trips showed he went through a warehouse district. Purchase records showed LexCorp had purchased these properties through several shell corporations, but there were no outward signs of development. The Dark Knight walked around the route Luthor would have taken, looking for signs most people would not look for...and with a grimace, he found it.

High up in the old red brick, firmly embedded, was a batarang.

Two months of Gotham rain hadn't left a trail to follow...but as Batman scanned the alleys he tried to imagine how he would have taken Luthor. Why here? Why now? Because it was close...convenient...

The Batcomputer had records on this building, but they had been altered, and recently. He knew the signs, and looked for what wasn't there. Gaps in the schematics, the history. Circled the building again...and went in. If there was something hidden here, there was only one place it could be.

The door was nondescript; the electronic lock almost invisible. Batman took a magnetic key out of his utility belt and swept it all over the jamb...there was a series of clicks...and then it opened.

He stepped into an amazingly clean room of white tile and bright lights. It looked like an entire field hospital, complete with a standing shower, tables, a surgical suite, and what looked like an ultrasound, glass-fronted cabinets of **** and supplies...an odd dentist's chair, a computer...and on the left a series of doors, locked from the outside, with slots for viewing and to pass in food trays.

Holding cells. Arkham-grade.

There was a grunt from the left-most cell. Batman stepped toward it, slid aside the viewing port...and his eyes widened as he saw Lex Luthor.

Or what was left of him.

The tall, naked man had lost considerable muscle mass. Red stubble covered his head, but no facial hair...no body hair at all. He was strapped into a kind of gynaecologist's chair, and an IV with a bright pink fluid fed his swollen testicles. The billionaire's chest was oddly puffy, especially the nipples, but the testes were shrunken, the diminished, limp cock like a pale worm, listless and dead...the eyes, like chips of green ice, were fixed on a television screen above the door that Batman couldn't see, the pink light played on his face.

Batman straightened as he realized he was no longer alone.

"Barbara," he said. Then cocked his head. "Kathy. And...Helena?"

"Bruce. We'd hoped it would take you a little longer to find our little project." Batgirl's voice came from behind him.

"What is this?" he said, careful to remain still as he drew items out of his utility belt, the cape covering the small motion. "What happened?"

"Luthor had a project in Metropolis. You remember my trip to Metropolis? Five months ago. We haven't seen a lot of each other since then. After he caught me, he set up a Gotham end of the project...completely off the books. But we weren't interested in his schemes. Turn around, Bruce."

Batman did...and he wasn't ready for the redhead that stood there her cape thrown back. No costume on, just the utility belt stretched over a swollen, distended abdomen, breasts larger and softer with dark brown nipples, the face beneath the cowl a little puffier. She looked farther along than five months.

"Triplets," she said. "I think it's time you met the sperm donor."

The caped crusader dropped the smokebombs...there was the pang of batarangs on stone and steel. He caught a glimpse of Huntress and Batwoman...unable to miss their swollen midsections. Not enough to slow them down. A door opened to his left, and instinct warned him of a trap...but then Batgirl slammed into him. Just enough to knock him inside, to slam the door shut behind him...

...and leave him face to face with Lois Lane.

She was naked, seated on a hospital bed, and scribbling with the stub of a pencil on a pad of paper. There was a paper hospital smock, but the reporter had used it to cover the television above the door, which glowed pink through the thin fabric. Batman immediately took in her cock and balls—worthy of a stud horse, glowing faintly green.

"Batman!" she said, violet eyes wide.

"Lois Lane, I presume," he said. He looked at the door to the cell...the toilet and sink in one corner of the room, a small collection of books on the shelf. Pieces slid into place. "Are you the 'sperm donor?'"

Lois put the paid of paper in her lap...above the distended dick...and nodded. "Yes. It started weeks ago...maybe months. I'd gone for a night out, trying to find these women who had gone missing..."

The dickgirl reporter told the tale, including the parts she hadn't been there for but had pieced together later. How Lex Luthor was using red kryptonite and genetic engineering to experiment on random people; how he had captured and brainwashed Lois Lane...then used her as part of an experiment to try and breed a half-Kryptonian army. Unfortunately he had snagged Batgirl...

"The brainwashing didn't work on her, at least not entirely. It get twisted. He wanted to use her to get other heroines, but she started to use his resources for her own purposes...something about how there always had to be a Batman. When Luthor figured it out, they captured him...I haven't seen him since."

"He's in the cell next door," Batman said. "They appear to be experimenting with the same process that resulted in your...virility...and compliance."

Lois nodded. Her cock wavered as it grew stiff. It had to be ten or eleven inches when erect, and the reporter peeled back the foreskin and started to stroke it.

"S-sorry," she said. "I, uh...I can't really help it. My balls just make so much cum, and I have to cum a couple times a day or it starts to hurt...really hurt."

Batman paced the room. It was a bare ten feet square. He had to get out of here, get help...once Batgirl and the others were subdued, he was sure they could break their mental programming, and...

His nose twitched. There was a strange smell. Sickly-sweet, but familiar. He found his gaze drawn back to Lois Lane, who had her fingers laced around the underside of her cock, her thumbs rubbing the crown of the head in fast strokes, which **** the urethra to gape open and closed, open and closed.

The Dark Knight shook his head, suddenly light-headed. His suit felt hot...strange...he reached down to his utility belt with shaking hands and pulled out a mask. The oxygen supply would only last a few minutes but...

"Ugh!" Lois bucked her hips unexpectedly. A splurt of yellow-white jizz with surprising **** and distance hit the mask a moment after Batman pressed it against his face...and the reporter shook as though in a fit, her body spasms uncontrollably as her jizz erupted, bubbled up like lava deep within the earth, staining her bedclothes, which Bruce noted were crusty from previous efforts.

When she finally finished, Lois Lane lay a-sprawl in the bed. She brought her hands up to lick the sticky white good from her fingers, eyes dilated...

"I can't...I can't help it..."

"He won't suck her cock," Huntress said, as her hand rested on the soft swell of her abdomen, barely showing.

"You don't know Bruce like I do," Batwoman said. Her own belly was more protuberant, especially in the tight-fitting costume. "He's already exposed, and curiosity will do the rest. The trick is to hold him. He's a master escape artist."

"Our sperm donor will keep him distracted. But others will come looking for Bruce. Nightwing, the Robins, maybe Red Hood, and eventually Superman and the Justice League. We need to step up our program," Batgirl said. "I think we've learned what we need to from Luthor. I propose we move forward with the Handmaid Process."

"Agreed," Huntress said.

"Agreed," Batwoman added.

Just that easily, Lex Luthor's doom was sealed...and Batman's fate hung in the balance...