BAE Chapter 6

It’s late and this is a quiet street in lower Gotham.

A door opens noisily and two figures stumble out into the chilly air. Ricky Simms has his arm around a petite brunette who wears a cute trench coat with a head scarf. She’s visibly drunk and staggering. She almost loses a shoe as they make their way to the subway station, descending to the platform below.

It’s Ricky’s lucky night. A train arrives as they reach the deserted platform. He’s more carrying than walking with his date, but he gets her onto the train and seated. A little winded from the effort, he drops into the seat beside her. She slumps against him.

They have the train car to themselves. He tilts her head up.

“Hey,” he says. There’s no reply. He kisses her, and she doesn’t respond. Ricky hesitates, but only for a moment before he loosens the neck of her coat and opens it enough to get a look at her neckline. Before he can slide his hand into her dress, the lights in the train car go out.

He looks up, startled, but he’s blind. The train rattles along noisily.

The lights flicker back on.

“Holy,” he says, going rigid with fear.

He’s surrounded by women wearing trench coats and surgical masks.

His date isn’t by his side anymore. She’s with the women, wide awake and sober.

Ricky licks his lips and opens his mouth, but they pounce. He’s never had his ass kicked before, and does not take the beating gracefully. He slams to the floor of the train car with a broken wrist and nose, groaning from the countless punches and kicks. He can only moan as the women roughly strip him, tearing fabric, popping buttons, and throwing his clothes away without a care. He looks pitiful naked, and squeals as the leader of the gang slams her bare foot onto his exposed groin.

“How’s that?” she demands. She’s a tall blonde who speaks with a thick, European accent.

“Ohh,” he moans miserably, and one of the others forces her toes into his mouth to shut him up.

“Not so fun when you aren’t the one who can’t say no, is it?” the leader snarls, massaging his cock with the ball of her foot. He’s getting hard despite everything, and he can’t reply with a mouth full of toes.

“Mmmff,” he protests.

Another member of the gang opens her coat to reveal her naked body. The leader moves her foot and the gang member drops onto Ricky, impaling herself on his cock. The gang looms over him as she plants her palms on his bare chest, digs her nails in, and rides him mercilessly. Tears stream down his face as her weight and movement shove his nude body hard against the cold floor of the moving train. Even so, her warm pussy is tight, slick, and impossible to ignore.

Ricky shudders and tries vainly to lift his hips.

“Yeah, Ricky,” the leader goads him as she unties the belt of her coat. “Hurry up and finish with her. Then it can be my turn with you.”

She opens her coat to reveal the fat cock hanging between her legs.

Ricky’s eyes grow enormous. He already looked terrified, but now the blood drains from his face.

“What about my turn?”

The gang turns as one, the leader finding the Batgirl just an inch away, nose to nose.

Barbara buries her fist in the woman’s gut, then elbows the one beside her. One of them dives at her, and Barbara kicks her away, blocks an incoming punch, and shoves the leader into the others. She spins around to throw a bolas at the girl trying to escape into the next car. It’s the girl who was the bait, and she crashes to the metal floor with a bang, her feet neatly tied.

The lights flicker with a buzzing noise as Barbara turns back around to find the leader on her feet with a knife in her hand. She has Ricky as her hostage.

The train is coming to a halt at the next platform. The doors open.

“Go,” the leader says, her eyes on Barbara.

The rest of the gang flees the train. The meager handful of people who were waiting on the platform see that there’s trouble and take off as well.

The girl who was the bait struggles with the bolas behind Barbara, trying to free herself.

Ricky sniffles, looking tearfully at Barbara for help. The train doors close with a hiss.

“Don’t you know who this is?” the leader asks, glaring as the train starts to move again. She’s staying behind because she must be hoping that she can somehow get the bait girl out of here. It’s admirable. Barbara rarely encounters gang leaders who will risk their necks for their henchmen. Or women.

“I know a **** when I see one,” Barbara says calmly.

“That’s right. That is what you are,” the leader growls at Ricky, pressing the knife harder against his neck.

“I was talking about you. Let him go,” Barbara orders.

“What’s your problem?” The leader rips her mask off, revealing a startlingly pretty face. “We’re doing your job for you. Or the real one’s job,” she adds, looking Barbara up and down. “The real Bat.”

“Showing that you don’t like sexual **** by committing sexual ****—it doesn’t seem like you thought this through,” Barbara says dryly, cracking her knuckles.

“Showing that you don’t like crime by committing crimes,” the leader replies, giving no ground. “You think costumes and toys make you different from us?”

It’s rare for Barbara to have to worry that she might lose a staring contest. It’s not helping that the leader’s coat is still open, and she’s completely naked under it. She’s tall and slender, but with soft, womanly curves. Her skin is amazingly smooth, although she’ll have bruises tomorrow.

Barbara focuses, although it’s hard to look away from the leader’s soft, curly blonde bush and thick cock, which is easily twice the size of Barbara’s.

There’s not much time. Barbara has to resolve this before the bait girl frees herself, but the hostage makes things tricky.

Should Barbara take the leader down hard?

Or use the bait girl as a hostage of her own?