He wakes up before anybody finds him

Fortunately for him, Batman was able to come to before anybody found him there. By the time he woke up it was almost daylight, when nearby apartment buildings overlooking his rooftop would surely be pulling open their curtains. Acting quickly, but far less effectively than he would have two months ago, he struggled to untie himself.

His fingers worked behind his back to undo the fiber that bound him, and his exposed dick slowly rose to attention from the effort. How had Catgirl done this to him? The last thing he remembered was her coming at him after he turned down her offer to spar… his head ached. Had she really done this to him? Why hadn't Selina stepped in? The thoughts only served to harden him even more.

Eventually, he was finally able to get his arms free and stand up, breathing heavily. He tucked his stiffy back into his batsuit, shuddering as his gloved fingers made contact with the shaft, and took a moment to gather himself. Then, he shuffled to the edge of the rooftop, and left for the Batcave.

Bruce stepped into the Batcave and let himself slump back into the chair at the Batcomputer, with a deep sigh. He was feeling so worn out… after a short contemplative glance and a losing mental debate, he reached down and took his dick out again. It was still hard. Even with the weeks of over-stimulation and attention, this was all still very new to him. Being a **** to his body like this. Having his innate, uncontrollable desires win out over his conscious thought. Wordlessly, he pulled off a glove, and began wordlessly stroking its length up and down at a slow pace.

The Batcomputer blinked to life. On instinct, like a highschooler caught by his parents, he jumped and took his hand away in a panic. Looking at the screen, he saw the cause - reports of Harley Quinn terrorizing Gotham. Right now, she was holding up a bank, not too far from Wayne Manor. In the Batmobile, he could be there in less than three minutes.

He gulped, and instinctively, his hand went back to his cock to slowly stroke it almost as if to comfort himself. He knew this would happen eventually. That he'd have to face her again. But if anything was clear from his last encounter with her, from his last encounter with Batgirl, from what some unknown newbie named Catgirl had apparently done to him, it was that he didn't stand another chance against Harley Quinn. Not anymore. His hulking physical presence, all of his training, all of his gadgets, they meant nothing. Not against her body. The hot body that had personally trained his to react to it just as she wanted. Batman froze up and gasped as live footage of Harley come onto screen from the bank's security cameras, and he involuntarily leaned further back into his seat and began stroking slightly faster.

If he faced her… she would knock him out again. Maybe with a high kick, maybe with a headscissors. She would laugh at him. She would… she would make him cum again. Maybe she'd even take him prisoner again.

Batman gulped another time. Could he just… leave it? Just this once? Did he have to try to intervene? If he stayed home, it would be like the ultimate admission of the Batman's total destruction at the mad psychiatrist's hands and fists. The plan that she'd giggled so much over would have worked to perfection. The fearsome Batman would be staying home to wank, too afraid to even try to stop her again after what she'd done to him. What she'd imprinted into his psyche. That hot body that he'd sent off to Arkham so easily so many times would have finally got its own back, by completely destroying everything about him. Destroying his mind and body and spirit. With teasing **** and simple knockouts. Until nothing was left. If he stayed, it would be like admitting that all of his hard work, all of his training, had lost out to just her genetics. Her female form. For some reason, this line of thinking made the prospect of staying home and wanking all the more appealing.

Batman was split. He wasn't sure if he should go try to stop her. And not because of his sense of heroic justice - he knew the odds of beating her weren't at all in his favor. He was split between the rational part of him that wanted to stay home and recover, the defeated part of him that wanted to stay home and jerk himself off to the bank's security camera footage, and the new part of him that wanted more of what Harley Quinn could give him. The wrong, the delightful, the thrilling.

He had to make a choice - stay home, let Harley do whatever she wanted, and do something about his erection? Or get up and go try to stop her, despite the fact she would assuredly kick his ass again?