Epilogue: Batman vs. the Whoremonger

Rain pounded the streets of Metropolis. Thunder rolled across the city's skies. Yet no sex workers huddled in the shelter of overpasses and doorways, hugging their shoulders as they flashed some skin to passers-by. No, the whores had gone legitimate, and we working in nice dry, heated brothels-in-all-but-name...everything officially licensed and unionized under SLUTI...

On the rooftop, Batman ignored the driving rain. He held the binoculars to his eyes, moved from window to window of SLUTI's headquarters building. Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy were there, but Robin would draw them off shortly...leaving the Dark Knight a chance to infiltrate the building.

It was Jim Gordon who had asked Batman to intervene. He remembered how old Jim had looked, standing next to the Batsignal.

"Metropolis' Vice Squad is compromised. All of them. Lois Lane dug up dirt on every cop except those who were on the take. State police tried to get some confidential informants, and they all clammed up tight. The FBI sent in an undercover agent...she's working there now."

"How sure are you that they're dirty?" Batman had growled. "Maybe they're just what they claim."

"That's the problem," Gordon took out a stick of nicotine gum. "Every union and nonprofit has some dirt. Somebody doesn't file something right with their tax-free contribution, a sexual harassment or disability complaint...but SLUTI is too clean. Nobody even alleges a problem. More than that...you know the mob has lost their entire prostitution racket in Metropolis? Millions of dollars a year. Bunch of made guys disappeared before SLUTI went legal..."

"It does seem suspicious," Batman agreed. "I'll look into it."

Which is why the Dark Knight climbed across the line connecting the two buildings in the rain. A moment with lockpicks opened the balcony door on the penthouse suite. Wet boots pressed into dry carpet as he surveyed the darkened office. A single desk, a few chairs. Laptop. A cabinet, with what looked like ancient fertility idols. A trashcan.

The World's Greatest Detective hovered over the trashcan. Picked out a pill bottle. The label said it was for Lane, Lois. Clomiphene. A fertility **** that triggered ovulation. From his belt pouch, Batman took out a small thumbdrive, and plugged it into the laptop. A light began to blink—the sign that it was working, backing up the contents of the laptop, trying to install spyware.

He looked around at the office. There was so little here that showed personality. Walked around to the desk: the drawers were unlocked, empty except for pens, paperclips, stickynotes, a box of pregnancy tests. He felt under the drawers, looking for hidden panels...nothing.

Downstairs, he couldn't hear the noise of SLUTI's business...the party and music on the ground floor, the businesslike moans of the working girls in their individual "offices"—good soundproofing in the walls. Better than the building code would suggest. Lois Lane had taken care when she had rehabilitated this place as SLUTI HQ...didn't want to hear anything that was going on up here.

Or maybe, he thought as his eyes narrowed. She didn't want them to hear what was going on up here.

Batman turned to the cabinet with the fertility idols. He recognized some of the cultures involved. Yoruba, Babylonian, Egyptian, Roman, Japanese...all authentic, as far as he could see. Bulging bellies and prominent breasts, effigies in clay, stone, and wood. Most were centuries old, some were older. All were tagged, authentic, nothing stolen or looted...he ran his hand along the edge where the cabinet met the wall. Stared down at the carpet. There was something behind it.

A button activated a weak sensor in the fingertips of his right glove. Like a stud-finder, ran his gloved hand along the edge, feeling the tell-tale magnetic presence of a wire...traced it over to what looked like an electrical outlet. The Dark Knight scratched his chin...then pressed his thumb against the outlet and pushed. The cleverly disguised button moved inward and clicked.

There was a soft hiss of air, hydraulics moved. The cabinet swung out...and Batman smelled something, an animal odor. He moved forward in the darkness, letting his eyes adjust to the deeper darkness. Sound of breathing...there was someone in there.

He stepped forward lightly. It was a boudoir. Small bathroom with sink and shower, closet with costumes, a double-bed. There was someone sleeping on the bed. Female. Nude. A chain ran from a collar around her neck to a heavy bolt in the floor. Enough of a lead so that they could get from the bed to the bathroom and back.

Careful not to wake the sleeping woman, he bent down to explore the chain. It was welded in place...nothing to pick. His eyes went to the collar...and he met her eyes. Vivid, purple eyes.

It was Lois Lane.

The smell in the room became overpowering, and she smiled at him in the darkness. Her legs opened and it was like a wet heat flowed over him...he was hard, instantly, and sweating. There was something wrong here, but Batman knew he couldn't just leave her there.

"Don't worry," he said, keeping his voice calm and gruff as his hands moved to his neck. "I'll get you out of here."

Gloved hands slid around the metal collar. There was a catch...but it wasn't locked. He pulled it apart, instinctively, and Lois smiled up at him...and her legs closed on him, crushing his crotch against hers.

"My Dark Knight," she whispered, smiling, as her hands pulled off his pants. He knew he should fight this...but it was so hard to think. Years of fighting criminals like Poison Ivy had left Batman with defenses against pheromones and things, but this was...something else.

His cock sprang free. Lois pulled him into her, and her gasped as her felt things squirm inside her hot cunt, latching onto his cock and drawing him in deeper. Batman's muscles tensed as he fought to control his own body...he had defenses against mind control, he had...and suddenly he was back in the arms of Talia, the night that they had been together. When they had conceived Damien...

Something tickled the tip of his dick. Lois rubbed her lower abdomen, which looked slightly soft and puffy.

"I'm ovulating," she whispered. Her hands touched his sweating face, beneath the mask. "I was hoping it would be you. Such good, strong genes."

The tickling increased. Something was wiggling at the tip of the Dark Knight's swollen cock...and there was nothing he could do as it wiggled and squirmed down, inside of his rigid prick, and began to move deeper inside of him.

"I could have let anyone impregnate me. They would have paid for it. Begged for it." Lois bit her lip. "But I wanted the best."

She drew him down toward her, pressed her mouth to his. Given time, Batman could defeat almost anyone; but taken by surprise...with magic...and he was no more than a particularly exceptional human male. The perfect sperm donor.

Lois rolled over as his body stiffened, his conscious mind off in a ****-and-sex-fueled dreamworld. The Whoremonger rode her prey gently, fingers rubbing at her clit as her tentacles slithered down the full length of his magnificent cock, to drain him dry. In the shadows behind her, Blaze opened her eyes.

"He is dangerous. You should kill him now. Tamper with his mind, and he will know," she said, and Lois could tell the demon's own dick was throbbing, hard, jealous that it was this one that Lois had chosen to father her first brood.

"If you let him live, others will come," the demon warned.

The Whoremonger smiled as she felt his first, involuntary climax. Little bat-sperm being guided toward her waiting eggs.

"Oh, darling...what do you think I'm counting on? That was always the plan."