Batman isn't the same

Batman decided he couldn't give up. Not yet. No matter how badly he wanted to quit and live the rest of his life as nothing more than a glass-jawed billionaire. He had to do what he could to help the city, even if that meant letting Harley Quinn's crime spree go unopposed. He was still the world's greatest detective, and a genius when it came to technology.

Unfortunately, as the following nights out would prove… his claim to the title of “world's greatest detective” may not be accurate anymore. In fact, he might not have even scratched the top three in Gotham's police ****. Certainly when it came to the quick-thinking and intelligent heroes of the Justice League, he'd had a far, far from from grace. He could almost act like his normal self most of the time, but when it came to really trying to think hard and solve a case, it was like his whole brain shut down.

Batman was horrified to find that all of the knockouts were having a real effect on him. The first night out he was taking it slow, trying to solve a theft case while working with the police, nobody around to fight whatsoever - but he just couldn't think right. He kept forgetting the details of the case, and he was finding that he was losing even more of his memory as he tried to think back to his training. Getting knocked out so many times so quickly had been horrible for him in ways he truly hadn't expected. Harley had really beaten him, maybe beyond repair. She won more than the battle. She won the fucking war.

It looked like the noble Justice Leaguer might really never be the same again. Harley Quinn won and Batman lost. It was a horrifying thought, but one that the (possibly former) superhero just couldn't get away from.

“Batman?” a young officer asked, turning to stare at the dark knight as he walked in a direction. “Uhhh… the footprints lead this way, sir?”

“unhh...” Batman moaned, louder than he meant to. He shook his head, trying clear it. He could almost swear he felt something rattle. “sorry, I just...”

He brought a hand up to his forehead. He had a pounding headache, and he was seeing spots in his vision.

“…Maybe you should just leave this one to us, sir,” the young officer suggested. “I think me and my partner... already found all the clues we need. We can take it from here. Thanks... for your, uh... help?”

Batman grimaced, and slowly nodded.

“...okay.” he said. It was a simple, timid response. Almost subservient. The young officer and his partner watched as Batman awkwardly, slowly shuffled off towards the window, making his extremely ungraceful exit after not doing much at all.

“Geez,” the officer whispered to his partner. “I was so excited to get to work with him, but he's fucking useless. Isn't he supposed to be better than that? He didn't do anything but stare all over the room with those glazed eyes of his.”

“Yeah, and down my shirt,” the disgusted female partner added. “He's a fuckin' perv, dude. He couldn't keep his eyes off my tits whenever I tried talking him into actually doing something.”

“Fuck, I didn't notice. That's bad. You sure?”

“Yeah. I gave them a side-to-side jiggle to make sure, and sure enough he followed them with his whole fucking head. Not his eyes. He turned his head to keep oogling my bouncing boobs.”

“Jesus.”

“I don't think he heard a word I said. Or had a single actual thought the whole time he was here. It was just tits, tits, tits. Only exception was when he'd stare at my ass while I'm bent over actually searching for clues and making myself useful.”

“And he talks sooo slowwwllyyy. His brain must just go at a real snail's pace.”

“Makes sense. All the blood was going to his dick. That thing was fucking throbbing, it was so gross.”

Batman spread his cape, not having heard a word the officers were saying about him, and glided out the window into the nighttime city, leaving the reality-struck officers to their gossip and disappointment.

The rest of the days went much the same way, unfortunately. When Batman worked alongside police, all that happened was their excitement died and turned into annoyance at what a useless hindrance he was being. The ones that didn't send him packing had to baby him, constantly reminding him of what they'd discovered so far, and explaining how the different clues fit together like they were talking to a complete novice. He even ruined evidence on more than one occasion. It left a sour taste in the mouths of almost a full third of the police ****, and drastically cut down their respect for him.

And when Batman worked on his own, he spent hours bumbling around the crime scene, not finding anything useful, then leaving. On one occasion he'd somehow managed to miss the perpetrator hiding right in the room's closet, staring at him with wide eyes the whole time as her emotions slowly changed from harrowing fear to utter confusion to total amusement, watching him stumble around achieving nothing and then leaving. By the end of the multi-day detective stint, Batman was little more than a joke to many more Gotham citizens than he had been at the start, though not quite enough for word to spread fully across the city and be believed after the storied career he’d had up until this point… at least, yet.

The only person who had a positive experience out of it was the black cop with a huge ass who thought the whole thing was hilarious, and made her fun teasing him each time she bent over or needed to show him something. Rubbing her tits into his chest, wagging her bulky round booty right in front of his gazing eyes and enjoying how he followed the sway, pressing her soft thigh into his cock as she stood in front of him… It was fun, and it made her feel fucking hot, even if they didn’t get much work done together. The Batman was hard, for her.

When she coyly poked his cockbulge with a fingertip and he busted in his batsuit with a pathetic moan and a shudder, she couldn’t hold back the gigglefit, having to blame it on remembering a funny joke she’d heard that morning when he stammered out a question. Her little finger poke made the Batman quake and pump out a fat nut from his cock. So much for her plans of taking him to bed after the investigation! All that muscle and brute strength, wasted on a quaking quickshot cock. It was hard to hold in the laughter as his crotch squelched with every step he took after that. She was so glad she finally got to meet this guy after hearing so much about him. Her very own Justice Leaguer.

When the investigation was over, or rather her working hours were done, she ended the day by “falling” backwards and landing her big bubble butt right onto his wet crotch, just to see what would happen. She was surprised that the **** of impact actually knocked Batman to the floor as well, unable to stay standing as she pressed her behind firmly onto his dick.

“Oops…” she laughed, glancing over her shoulder. “My bad…”

She bit her bottom lip and grinded two pumps up and down his dick, hearing him groan, then glanced up at his face with a grin as she felt him blow his load once again, his dick wedged between her cheeks. She gasped with delight when she saw that he was… asleep. Ha! He came for her ass, and passed out! Well, night night Batman. She’d just leave him here to wake up and continue the investigation on his own time, confidently lifting herself up to standing and brushing the back of her ass.

“Cop beats bat,” she said, standing high above his pathetic, feeble, snoozing body. “Sweet dreams, love.”

She swaggered out of the crime scene, leaving the caped crusader dreaming behind her. Fast asleep. Knocked out by two pumps of her big black ass. Haha, best work day ever!

To Batman's credit, each failed night out was marginally better than the last. It seemed like he was improving, however slowly, a bit of his old self coming back as his brain had time to heal. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough time, and his skillset wasn't coming back fast enough. He was still quite the bumbling idiot when he ran into his next major obstacle, and this time, it wasn't the type he could simply walk away from after fucking it all up. It was the type to knock you flat on your ass and make you beg for mercy. It was the type to knock you out.