Epilogue: Bat Breeder II: 2 Bats 2 Breed

"I don't get it. What's so special about this place?" A sniff. "Musty. Like no one has been down here in a long time."

Batwoman's footfalls were almost silent on the concrete floor of the basement. Her boots were treadless, leaving no marks for anyone to track. Her flashlight slid over the space calmly, methodically, in economical sweeping motions. The space was dark, someone long ago having scavenged the overhead bulbs. Other than a bit of graffiti, the space was weirdly clean of trash, except for a few faded, curling papers on the floor.

The Batwoman knelt down and shined her light on them. Photographs of women, smiling, baring their stomachs. She frowned, not sure what she was looking at. Turned her light back up to the wall, but if they had fallen from there, it had been weeks ago, and the traces of tape long plastered over with spraypaint.

Anyone who looked at her would have seen the bright red hair, the familiar caped cowl, the armored bustier that gave the impression of breasts, and the pale makeup that were part of her disguise. Lean but muscled, the body of an athlete or a soldier rather than a bodybuilder. Kathy Kane, the Batwoman.

"She said women had gone missing, but didn't want to give us many details. Batgirl's been under the weather lately—too sick to go out on patrol, so she's been playing the Oracle bit again. Keeping Batman and the Robins busy in Gotham. That's why she asked us to investigate."

"Both of us, though? Seems a bit odd."

The other woman spoke with a pronounced British accent—BBC-neutral right now, thought Batwoman had heard her both assume the aristocratic accent of the British upperclass, Scouse, Scottish, Welsh—even several passable American accents. Her costume was more reminiscent of Batman's...but with an armored pectoral, bracers, greaves, and grilled visor on the cowl that reminded one of medieval armored combat. A fitting uniform for the Knight, Batman's female British counterpart—though Kathy knew that out of her armor, Beryl Hutchinson had ginger hair kept in a short bobcut.

Knight had her flashlight out too, and together the two beams focused on the far wall. There were a hole carved there, big enough for a grown person to crawl through...and behind the cement the beams could make out red brick of older construction, and beyond that...something that flashed at them, pink, almost metallic.

"Did you notice the graffiti?" Batwoman said.

"Yes," Knight let her light play above the wholes. Most of the graffiti around here was old, painted over until they were indistinguishable squiggles, but there was one exception. The word CROATOAN had been carefully incised into the wall, layers on layers of spraypaint of different colors. Like an old tattoo which had faded many times, only to be cut once again. "The Roanoke colony, wasn't it? That was the name on the tree there. One of the indigenous peoples. Any connection with Metropolis?"

"No. Too far south. Radio signal is useless down here, or we could ask Batgirl to check the gang database..."

Batwoman's voice trailed off as the light went down the hole on the right.

"There's a chamber on the other side of this," the American said. "Might belong to an adjacent building."

Knight nodded. "We should be careful. Paper, rock, scissors to see who goes first?"

The red hair fluttered as Batwoman strode past her colleague into the hole.

"Or not." Knight watched Batwoman shimmy into the hole. The British woman wondered if it was true, what Batgirl had said, about Kathy being a lesbian. Beryl herself hadn't ever really had those kinds of feelings for women, but being this close to Batwoman, she could almost see the appeal.

Too bad her cape covers up that arse, she thought, keeping the smile off her face. She kept one eye on Batwoman's retreating backside, and with the other scanned the room she found herself in...reall, just the end of a hallway, with a fire stair off to her right. Back the other way was a freight elevator and a closed subterranean carpark. Above, a former warehouse-cum-underground closed, shut down by the authorities the other week. None of the usual traffic of homeless people seemed to have moved in yet...but despite the mustiness, there was no dust either.

Knight couldn't help feeling that the whole scene was staged, somehow.

Batwoman slipped silently out of the far end of the hole. She touched a spot on her cowl, just above her brow. "Knight, do you read me?" she whispered.

A crackle of static. Then, that British accent. "Yes. Go ahead."

"I'm in some kind of laboratory. High-power generators, medical freezers, articulated arms with syringes...it seems a pretty high-tech operation. Computers, but the hard drives are missing. Whoever left didn't want to leave a footprint, but this equipment is expensive."

"What was that bit of pink metal I saw when I flashed the light down the tunnel?" Knight said over the radio.

"I'm looking at that now."

There was a metal frame holding up a hemispherical arrangement of light bulbs and mirrors on little articulated arms, small motors arranged behind it so that clusters of lights and mirrors could spin. At the very middle of it was what looked like a chunk of metallic pink crystal. Cables leading off from the base obviously supplied power...and, Batwoman presumed, controls for turning the object on or off must have been by computer, because she couldn't see any obvious switches on it.

Something about this setup wasn't right, but Batwoman couldn't say what it was...and then it struck her, and she whirled around the room to check.

There were no other doors. There was no way into this room except by crawling through that hole.

Quick as a piece of the night itself, Batwoman lurched for the hole...and she was halfway through when something slid down, trapping her in the tunnel. She reached out, yelled a warning to Knight...

...and her fingertips touched a solid surface. Clear as glass, but much harder. Unable to reach her utility belt, Batwoman drew out a batarang and scratched at the surface. The special alloy bit into the material, but couldn't punch through.

Static buzzed in her ear.

"Batwo...ee you...ligh...eed hel..."

Through the clear glass, Batwoman could see Knight approach the hole, peering within.

Can she not see me? Batwoman thought. Maybe this stuff is one-way. But what was that she was saying about a light?

The trapped heroine pressed the button on her cowl, saying as loud as she could. "Get out! It's a trap!"

Yet Knight was climbing inside now, crawling into the hole...and then something came down. Batwoman's heart fell as she saw her fellow caped crusader's moment of panic, just before the falling barrier cut out the light.

Then they were trapped alone in the dark. The walls closing in.

Light flared, pale and red. A screen in one of Knight's gauntlets. Batwoman saw her twist as well as she could, her visor'd face searching for any means of escape from this trap that had managed to catch two members of the Bat-family. Batwoman tugged a thin glowstick from her clove and began to do the same, paying particular attention to the barrier between them...and suddenly Knight looked at her, and the two women shared a moment of recognition.

"So the barrier isn't one-way," Batwoman said. "Maybe together we can..."

Pink lights began to fall down the length of the clear barrier between them, like laser lines. They left shadows on Batwoman's vision, even when she closed her eyes. The lights seemed to be scanning back and forth in complicated patterns, but Batwoman could still see Knight through them. Instinctively, Batwoman brought up her hands in American sign language—and to her relief, Knight signed back.

They quickly shared notes. Both of them were trapped, something heavy pressing on their lower backs, though their legs were free. Air quality was okay, so either it wasn't air-tight or there was a vent somewhere in their respective spaces. Radios were useless, and both of them were cut off from their utility belts, leaving them with a limited bag of tricks.

SMALL EXPLOSIVE. Knight signed. DANGEROUS IN SMALL SPACE.

VIAL OF ACID. Batwoman signed back. SAME. LAST RES—

Suddenly the Knight jerked, her whole body tensed and she swung her head. Batwoman waited, hoping she would sign what was wrong. It didn't take long.

SOMETHING STUNG ME. BUTTOCKS. MAYBE A SYRINGE.

Batwoman was about to tell her to use the explosive, when she knew exactly what the woman was talking about. A single, sharp pain, like getting a booster shot, right into the flesh part of her hip. Instinctively, she kicked backwards, but met only open air.

ME TOO, Batwoman signed. GET READY.

Then the pink laser lights with their strangely compelling patterns grew brighter, and resolved themselves into vivid pink letters.

WELCOME TO THE MOTHERING HOLE

IF YOU READ THIS, MAYBE YOU ARE

ABOUT TO BECOME A FUCKING MOTHER

The pink lights began to strobe...and a strange heat began to spread across Batwoman's body. She knew that Knight must be feeling it too, because she could see sudden perspiration trailing down that chin, beading that upper lip...Beryl had such lovely lips. Kathy wondered sometimes what it might be like to taste them.

The lights strobed, quicker and faster. Too bright to clearly see Knight's hands, though both women tried to sign to one another. The heat seemed to burn through her body like a fever, and Batwoman gasped, sucking in hot air, feeling her pulse race...if she had been poisoned...but it didn't feel like any poison she was familiar with. Long minutes past, until Batwoman's vision swam with the bright pink lights, and her muscles seemed to relax. She could tell that her pussy was wet, feel the trickle of pussy-juice run down the inside of her legs inside her suit. Normally the low-profile underwear would absorb that, but there was a thin stream down her thigh, pooling in her boot...and Batwoman realized she must be leaking badly.

Then she saw something happen to Knight. Beryl had stiffened again, as if something was happening. Her lips moved, as though talking to someone. Shaking her head. Trying to resist something.

"Fight it, Knight," Batwoman gasped outloud. "Whatever they're doing, fight it! We can get out of this, we can..."

The other woman lurched forward. Her face pressed up against the glass. Something was pushing her from behind, something that Kathy Kane couldn't see. But she could see those red lips pressed up against the barrier, frosting it with her breath, and...Batwoman recognized that face. Not that exact face, but others like it. The face her girlfriend made when Kathy had the strap on, pounding her cunny for all it was worth.

Knight was getting fucked.

Her gloved hands clawed at the glass weakly, and sweat was dripping off of her. The pale face was flushed as though with a fever, and though Batwoman couldn't hear it, she could sense the loud, long moans. It wasn't like any **** that Batwoman had ever seen...Knight was howling like a bitch in heat, utterly lost in the moment.

Aphrodisiac! Batwoman realized. The pinprick...must have **** her...**** us both. Does that mean...I'm next?

She didn't have to wait long. Knight collapsed, unmoving but breathing. A voice burst in from Batwoman's radio cowl...which should have been impossible, it was an encrypted frequency-hopping scheme...unless.

Batwoman's eyes went wide. Batgirl. Barbara must have known. Sent us here on purpose. We've been set-up!

"Your last period was two weeks ago." A woman's voice, distorted, but familiar.

The heroine took the capsule of acid out from its hidden pocket. The danger was too great...she had to do something. Twisting herself as far as she could in the cramped space, the broke open the nd of the ampule and tried it on the barrier holding her down...

"You aren't on any birth control." The voice said.

Shows what you know, Batwoman said, knowing she took her pills regularly. True, she had a small period two weeks ago, but that was normal.

The acid did nothing. Unbelieving, Batwoman tried a little more, but it ran down the dark material like water. She brought the ampule up to her nose and sniffed gently. Tasted a drop on her tongue. It was water.

"In fact, your birth control has been replaced with fertility medication. You are ovulating today. Multiple eggs. Ready for insemination."

Strange hands removed Batwoman's utility belt. She tried to kick, but couldn't seem to lift her eggs. Completely helpless as they pulled down her pants and panties. Cool air brushed against Kathy Kane's pussy. She was down to her final defense...an anti-**** device. If she was lucky enough that her attacker just tried to shove it in.

Instead, fingers spread her pussy. reached in and pulled out the thin latex sleeve with its inward-facing barbs. Batwoman could have wept...and instead, strangely, found herself smiling. Her heart was beating faster, pussy gushing, but it didn't feel painful or wrong at all. In fact it felt sort of...good?

"Babies are important." The voice said.

"Yes..." Kathy agreed, telling herself she was just playing along, trying to draw out the speaker. Something warm and hard and huge pressed against her cunt. Bigger than any toy she had ever used.

Is this what a real penis feels like?

"You want a baby, don't you?"

"Someday...ohhh..." Kathy moaned, as the cock stretched her cunny. The person who was fucking her...their hands were kneading her ass, increasing bloodflow to her genitals. Even in her half-**** state, Batwoman could tell the hands were small, strong, with manicured fingernails...like a woman's...but the cock was all man. She knew that should disgust her, but right now it felt too good to care.

"Someday soon. Your biological clock is ticking. It wants babies."

"Why...why are...ahh!...you doing this?" Kathy asked, not even sure if the voice on the other end could hear her.

"Because," Batgirl said. "It's time for the Bat-family to grow. Which means you both need to be bred."

Now it was Kathy's turn to press her face to that wall that separated her from the Knight, and Beryl lifted her head, watching Batwoman get fucked, her hand reaching out to stroke the barrier between them. Tried to sign something...but Batwoman couldn't make out what it was...

The cock shoved so far inside of Batwoman that it hurt. Her whole body convulsed as by an electric current, and the hard, pounding prick continued to punch into her right through the orgasm, kept going until Kathy collapsed panting for air...and the cock, after a while, pulled out. Leaving her pussy feeling wetter than before.

Finally, in between pink flashes, Batwoman made out what Knight was trying to tell her.

IT'S NOT BRUCE.

How would she know that? Kathy wondered. Then immediately after: If it isn't Bruce then, who is it? One of the Robins? Commissioner Gordon? Whose cock had just knocked her up?

The radio crackled.

"Don't worry. You'll meet our sperm donor when this is over."

"When it's over? But he already came in us both."

"Yes she did," Batgirl said. "And now she's going to do it again."

Kathy watched as a smile came back to Beryl's face. The caped crusader writhed, not fighting it this time, as something slid in between her legs. Batwomen knew how she felt. She could feel the heat building between her thighs, as she rubbed her legs together, to feel that cream leaking out sticky and thick. Somehow she knew by the time it was her turn again, she'd be panting and begging for it.

Batwoman wondered what she would tell her wife. Then again, with Batgirl's help, maybe she could make her part of the family...