Let's just say you're no Batman

Martina shot up to her feet in alarm and rushed to ‘get dressed’, which meant grabbing her armband and thigh band. Frank and Jose unmuted the mics on their earpieces and tried to get in contact with their people outside. You were momentarily distracted by the squelching of Martina’s cum-stained ass and thighs before you pulled your pants up and also got serious.

“What’s the plan?” you asked calmly, with underlying excitement. Your confident attitude must have rubbed off on the others, because some of the tension drains out of Martina, Frank, and Jose.

Jose explains, “We’re facing an attack from the west entrance of the compound. I’m not really sure how you can help.. but here.” He meant to hand over his earpiece and one of his guns to you. It was a handgun with a silencer that you had no idea how to use other than what you’ve seen in movies.

You only took the earpiece. In your best impression of a badass, you said, “My body is far deadlier than a gun!”

The three listeners looked extremely skeptical, even your biggest fan, Frank; but he saw your determination and so he lowered Jose’s arm with his own hand. You returned a manly nod and fitted Jose’s earpiece into your ear. Martina put her hand on your shoulder and said, “Leave the mic on and keep us informed. Be careful.” She ended with a pout, “You’ve still got a lot of explaining to do..”

With your trademark cheeky grin, you decided to leave her a parting gift. You first wished that your cum tasted delicious. Then you reached down, wiped some of your semen off her labia, and brought it up to her still pouting mouth. She flinched from arousal at the light stroke and upon reading your intentions, rolled her eyes as she reluctantly opened her mouth.

In retrospect, it was pretty shitty of you to make her swallow your cum in the middle of a gunfight when her people could be dying, but you’d save Martina’s life a few times over to make up for it. You placed your finger in her mouth and reveled in the delighted expression she made as she licked your finger clean. She then glared at you and pushed you towards the door.

You made your way out the glass door and when you turned around to lock it, you saw her licking some more of it inconspicuously. That pulled a chuckle out of you as you made your way in the direction Frank was directing you towards through the earpiece. “Go all the way down the hall and take a right, then you’ll see a staircase where some friendlies are taking cover.”

The chatter on the channel was getting more urgent as the gunshots continued. You weren’t sure how long it would take the cops to get here, but whoever was attacking the compound didn’t seem to care about using silencers, so you imagined they already had taken care of paying off the closest patrollers. You got the sense that neither Frank nor Martina were expecting any backup and that this was a normal state of affairs. Why wasn’t Martina dead yet? You could answer that question on your own - her uncle must need her alive. They weren’t allowed to use lethal shots against her, but against the guards? You figured they were fair game.

You zoomed out into the stairway without bothering to get under cover and directly into the line of fire of both sides. Martina’s men stopped and took cover since Frank had instructed them that backup was coming from the gym, but the attackers continued. A bullet lodged itself in your hip and another went all the way through your abdomen. You smirked at the mild pain and regenerated as you ran forward up to the broken glass door and windows. Opening the door leisurely, you walked into the light of day with arms akimbo.

Even the frontal fire had entered a lull, probably due to your boldness or ability to remain unfazed by your bloody wounds. You were already healed but it was not noticeable. Taking a survey of the front yard of the compound, you saw several shooters standing behind a fountain and others next to you on the porch. While the guards looked professional in their suits, the enemies looked more like gang members with their casual wear and tattoos.

The belligerents focused their guns at you and a hispanic with a huge **** rifle said in an authoritative tone, “Surrender the señorita!” Apparently, he thought you were negotiating. He continued with a sly smile, “This time, we have LAPD covering the east entrance. No escape.” Oh, that means Martina was in trouble if she tried to escape in that direction. Damn those dirty cops. You had to admit though, the commander guy had a cool accent.

You pointed at him, then yourself, and said, “Can’t do that, hombre. I’m what you call.. ‘Loco’. The MOST loco.”

Your tomfoolery resulted in some furious cursing from Martina through your earpiece, but you tuned it out. Señor Hombre reacted as everyone else in your view did, with incredulity. One of the grunts on the porch muttered, “Is that a Key and Peele reference?” This happened to be the only female in the group. She was tall with a C-cup bust and topless besides her backpack. Interestingly, she sported a thong that was unceremoniously pushed to the side to expose her vagina.

“NOICE!” you shouted as you turned to face her, appreciating both her body and how she picked up on your reference. She wasn’t as hot as Martina and you weren’t a fan of all the piercings on her, but you decided to let her live. You weren’t mentally prepared to kill women yet, especially with how great their bodies looked. So you got started. You pointed at Señor Hombre and said, “Bang.”

He immediately exploded into a pile of flesh, gore, blood, and bone much like a very tiny bomb dissected his body instantly into small and uneven pieces without any excessive shockwaves. It was a scene right out of a high-budget body-horror B-list movie. The guy next to the commander shrieked like a little girl, which prompted everyone outside to pepper you with bullets.

You fell over with more holes in you than a cheese grater and it hurt mildly, sort of like a Thai massage. The enemies unloaded their full clips on you so some of the guards behind you took the opportunity to get a few kills in, but otherwise stayed inside.

The cool part was coming. It seems that God or whatever was giving you powers made it so that your consciousness was no longer housed in your brain, because that part of your body was blown to bits too, but you could still think with total lucidity throughout. You activated your regeneration, which immediately got to work pushing the bullets out of your body and thoroughly repairing all damage within the next five seconds.

By the time you lumbered back to your feet, the shell-shocked woman nearby dropped her gun, fell to her knees mumbling, “El Diablo” nonstop, and made a cross on her chest, which for some reason ended with her going from one nipple to the other. These distractions were getting to your head. You “banged” the rest of the enemies in your sight and said to the newly pious female gang member, “Put down your weapons and you’ll live.”

Having finished up at the west entrance, you went back in to look for Martina. Through your earpiece, you could tell something was going down. You heard distant shouting from Martina’s mic, but it wasn’t Martina or Frank’s voices. They should have been OK if they stayed in the private gym. You asked, “Hey guys, did you go to the east entrance?” It was a little late but you updated them about your new intel too, “I heard the LAPD is there.”

“Heh.” An unknown man’s voice spoke into the channel. “This is the LAPD. We’ve captured Martina Estefanía Lopez. Surrender or face eradication.”

Your run slowed to a jog and you cursed under your breath. Things were getting complicated. On one hand, you hated complication, but on the other hand, you were having the adventure of your life with none of the risk or tension that ought to accompany such insanity. You said, “Okay. I’m coming over to surrender without a weapon. Don’t shoot.”

After a few wrong turns, you made it to the east entrance and faced a large squadron of cops. You had your hands up and stepped forward, at which point you were tackled to the ground and cuffed. Unfortunately, none of the lady cops present were as hot as Martina. Still, the eye candy was great. They wore a uniform of crotchless pants without underwear and button-up shirts with nipple cutouts in the shape of shirt pockets.

“Get up, you piece of trash!” The male cop jeered despite the fact that he threw you onto the ground in the first place and roughly escorted you towards a police truck.

On the way, he delivered the following lines in a manner that seemed both robotic and sarcastic, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford..”

There were a lot of things you were tempted to do, but decided against. All you ended up doing was hoping that you’d have some female interaction in the near future. You had ways to ensure that women would be nice to you, as long as they touched you. The way your powers affected Martina gave your confidence a massive boost.

When the truck’s tinted door opened, you saw Martina’s beautiful mug cuffed up in her ‘exercise gear’ (AKA in the nude) and flashed her a big smile. The cop shoved you into the middle seat. Martina was seated in the back between Frank and Jose. After the cop shut the door, you whispered, “Psst.. Jose, switch places with me.”

Jose grunted, “Huh? I don’t think we should..”

It was too late. You were already out of your own middle seat and winding over to the backseat. Martina complained with exasperation, “Jesus Christ, Michael. Are you shitting me right now?”

Things were difficult because you were still cuffed and you couldn’t pull Jose out of his seat with your hands behind your back, so you sort of shoved your ass in Frank’s face and made things increasingly inconvenient for everyone until Jose had **** but to go to the middle seat.

“Ahh..” you relaxed as you sat down next to Martina. Noting that none of your dried cum remained on her crotch, meaning she had licked it all up, you felt greatly satisfied. You didn't even think to feel bad about all the people you grotesquely killed. She turned to you and joked, “Getting comfortable? Are you happy now that you smeared your ass all over Frank’s face?”

Unlike her, you weren’t naked, so the joke didn’t quite hit right. To you at least, Frank was laughing. You quirked your brow at Martina, “You.. don’t seem particularly bothered about being arrested?”

She shrugged and lightly said, “I’ll be in and out in no time. My uncle will try his tricks and my lawyer will stop them.”

For a moment, you had forgotten that Martina was an extremely capable woman. Outside of being your feisty little cocksleeve, that is. “What about Frank and Jose?” you asked, not wanting them to get punished. If you had given them all the intel about the LAPD on time when Señor Hombre told you, they might not have gotten themselves captured. You felt responsible for their current predicament to some degree.

With a hint of anxiety, Martina stated, “Not sure. We don’t know what evidence they can come up with. I’ve had a few close guards put behind bars for a while.” Frank and Jose didn’t seem too bothered. Men among men for sure.

You furrowed your brows and refused to let them get jailed! In the meantime though, you’d do whatever you want. The compound was big and it was taking the other guards forever to get here in order to surrender as well, so you were entitled to having a bit of fun. Scooching over against Martina, you awkwardly attempted to **** her with your face.

“Hijo de puta! Michael, can’t this wait?!” she leaned away from you against Frank as far as she could to keep away from your lips. Strange that your powers didn’t translate some of the speech.

“I’m bored.” You explained before asking, “Didn’t I do a good job?”

She froze, heaved a sigh, and reluctantly returned to her original position. She didn’t actually see how you massacred everyone, but she must have heard something from one of her subordinates, because you could easily make out the fear in her eyes. It was either that or she feared losing herself to lust from your touch. Of course, she had every right to feel fear on both counts.

Her eyes darted this way and that. Nervous with trepidation, she squeaked, “Just for a little, then..” After which she corrected herself by saying with more ****, “Don’t you dare go too far..”