SEL Chapter 24

Helena feels good. She won’t even be sore; tonight wasn’t very strenuous.

She climbs in through the skylight and drops quietly into her apartment, shedding her costume with the lights still off. Once it’s safely out of sight, she turns on a lamp and carries her work tote into the bathroom. There, she starts the bath before heading for the kitchen for a glass of water, then a glass of wine.

In the bathroom, she stands before the mirror with her wine in hand as steam fills the room. Back in the costume and working with… if not a Bat, with a capital B, then Bat-adjacent people. It’ll be worth it. She examines her reflection critically, then turns to check her back before setting the wine down and shimmying out of her underthings.

She bends to place the bamboo tray on the bathtub, puts her papers and pen in place, lights her candle, and slides into the water with a sigh.

She takes a gulp of wine, then uses her teeth to pull the cap off her pen.

“OK, you little jerks,” she mutters, picking up the first paper.

SEL

The club is emptying out, and of course, the civilized guests from the upper Iceberg Lounge are all gone for the night.

Oswald Cobblepot sits in his office that overlooks the club on one side and the harbor on the other. The opulent room full of bird-themed artwork exists physically between the lounge and the club, which works on several levels.

“Thank you, my dear,” he says absently to the cocktail waitress who brings him an Irish coffee.

“Isn’t it a little late, Mr. Cobblepot?”

“Quite. Fly away now,” He waves one misshapen hand toward the door, and she takes the hint, hurrying off with the tails of her little coat bobbing.

Oswald takes a drink and eyes his computer and his phone. Finally, the phone rings. He answers immediately.

“It’s me,” he says, and then he listens. He takes a deep breath and hangs up.

Cheshire is in custody. Tonight’s operation is a failure. An expensive one; Cheshire managed to collect her pay before being arrested. He’ll be interested to know what happened, but that’s secondary at the moment.

Aki Aramaki’s wife’s affair happened; there have been witnesses, even if there is no proof. It functions as leverage over Viti Saxena because she doesn’t know that there is no video. But it only works on Saxena. Oswald senses that Aki wouldn’t believe these allegations without evidence.

Aki Aramaki wants Wayne Enterprises. That’s been clear since it came out that Bruce Wayne wasn’t expected to return to Gotham from his European tour. Rumor has it that he’s settled down in the Italian countryside with twin supermodels or something. But Barbara Gordon’s sudden rise has upset Aki’s carefully-laid plans.

Aki is willing to win at any cost, which is laudable. But she comes from privilege and doesn’t know what hardship is. That is a weakness. Oswald gives her even odds of achieving her goal, but should she succeed, Oswald will have to own her. Gotham is his city, and Wayne Enterprises is an integral part of it. Wayne was always an idiot, but he was also incorruptible and exceedingly lucky. It will be different this time.

Meanwhile, Oswald needs the Mayor’s office as well. His plans to expand all of his businesses in Gotham depend on that. He needs Aki and her wife. One or the other simply will not do. They must both succeed in their respective tasks, and they must both be absolutely loyal to him.

His phone rings again. Few people have this number, and he was only expecting one call.

“Sofia,” he says warily.

“Oz. Got something for you.”

“Oh?”

“You’ll never believe who’s at my club asking around for a place to get company that the Penguin doesn’t own.”

Oswald raises an eyebrow. “Who?”

SEL

Aki Aramaki waits nervously. The sun will be coming up soon, and water drips from her damp hair. That was her third shower of the night just now. So far, this new version of Seed is having a lot of side effects. Increased sweating is one. The painful erection, the boost to how easily she’s aroused, and the inability to think straight when hard are the other main ones.

This is an ordinary hotel room in an ordinary hotel.

The door opens and two pretty, young brunettes in short dresses enter in high spirits. No one is this alert and bubbly at this hour, so there must be some cocaine involved, but Aki does not care.

“I wasn’t expecting two of you,” she says uncomfortably as they lock the door and approach the bed.

“Just relax. Seed, right?”

Aki swallows nervously. “That’s right.” She feels feverish as the girls pull their dresses off, revealing predictably fancy red and black lingerie. Aki didn’t know what to expect from call girls sent by the mafia, but she’s relieved. She’s past caring if they’re pretty or not, but no amount of libido can change her fixation on hygiene. These two smell impeccable, and they’re still wearing their sexy heels. Aki’s cock twitches painfully.

“Shhhh,” the girls say as they crawl onto the bed and open her robe. That gives them pause. Aki lies back, and her new cock stands out in the open. It’s seven inches long, and more than two inches thick at the base. It’s big on its own merits, and huge on a woman only a little more than five feet tall.

The girls look delighted.

Aki doesn’t have to worry about appearances with these two. She lies back and gives in completely. It doesn’t take long for the fingers and tongues to make her explode, but one of the girls has the head of her cock in her mouth when she does. She chokes and coughs, pulling away in surprise at the sudden gush and the quantity. The room spins for Aki. Lost in pleasure, she doesn’t see the load erupting from her, but the girls do.

Aki finally comes to her senses to see them looking shellshocked yet enchanted. One has a rope of cum on her shoulder while the other has one across her whole face, going over her nose. She’s licking her fingers.

“Sorry,” Aki says dazedly, unsure if she’s apologizing for her screams a moment ago, or for making a mess. She’s never experienced anything like that before. “Oh!” She lies back again as one of the girls suddenly and voraciously begins to suck her half-soft cock.

She’s relieved. Half because of all the tension that’s gone now, and half because that orgasm has told her everything she has to know about the product that she’s going to bring to market. It’ll be the biggest thing since Viagra, and the board at Wayne Enterprises will be begging to kiss her feet.

SEL

Roxy Rocket and her goons hit Gotham International last night. It was a small and unspectacular heist by their standards, but she made off with some jet parts. Her rocket must be nearly complete.

“Essentially victimless,” Alfred notes kindly as he places another coffee in front of Stephanie. They’re in the kitchen at Wayne Manor.

“You should eat,” she tells Alfred absently.

“It’s not really done that way.”

“Why not?”

“Master Bruce always took his meals, or what little of them he would eat, in his, er, office.”

He means in front of the Computer.

“Well, I don’t want to eat by myself, and you shouldn’t have to. Just cook for two, Alfred.” Stephanie pushes the tablet with the Gotham Gazette on it away. “How about Helena?”

“I saw that GCPD apprehended a noted criminal last night, but there were no details in the article. That was typically what one would see when Master Bruce left someone hanging from a streetlight,” Alfred says mildly.

“Which criminal?”

“An assassin. Known as Cheshire.”

“Never heard of her.”

“She’s dangerous.”

Stephanie takes his word for it.

Helena doesn’t put notes in the Computer like the Family is supposed to, and of course, she hasn’t updated Stephanie. The only way to really know what she’s up to would be to ask her, but that seems like a bad idea. It’s time for some trust.

It’s another day in Gotham.

Stephanie’s day?

Or Barbara’s day?