threesome

Michael was done with subtleties. He wanted to witness the collision of two of Earth's most formidable women, now transformed into creatures of pure desire. He grabbed Barbara by the hair, pulling her up, and with his other hand seized Brianna’s shoulder, forcing them to crash together in the center of the rooftop.

"The two of you. Now," he commanded, his voice vibrating with the authority of a shaper of galaxies.

Michael’s rule was absolute, and their bodies responded instantly. Barbara, in her skimpy leather outfit, and Brianna—her Batman armor torn away to reveal the powerful curves of her new female body—flung themselves at one another. There was no gentleness; it was a clash of muscle and skin, a ravenous kiss that seemed intent on draining the very souls from each other.

Michael positioned himself behind Brianna, feeling the firmness of the vigilante’s buttocks against his hips. He gripped her waist, sensing her immense strength, and thrust her forward.

The impact was visceral. Brianna’s moan was a roar of pleasure. Michael didn't wait; he drove into Brianna from behind, filling her with a force that would have made any other human faint, while his hands slid forward to squeeze Barbara’s ample breasts.

"More..." Brianna gasped, her head thrown back against Michael’s shoulder. "I want... everything!"

Michael intensified the pace, each thrust a thunderclap reverberating through the building's concrete. He was the engine, the power source fueling their lust. Barbara, sensing the vibration of Brianna’s pleasure, wrapped her legs around Michael’s waist, creating a sandwich of hot, sweating flesh.

It was a chaotic tangle of limbs. Michael felt the crushing pressure of Brianna’s thighs and Barbara’s voracious tongue exploring his neck, while he shifted his attention, kissing the nape of Brianna’s neck and moving inside her with rhythmic brutality.

"You’re mine," Michael whispered, feeling the climax approaching.

He wrote one final, fleeting rule: *Pleasure is infinite, and resistance is nil.*

The effect was like a nuclear explosion of dopamine. Brianna let out a cry that echoed across Gotham, her back arching as she felt Michael’s orgasm surge within her, just as Barbara reached her own peak, trembling violently beneath his touch.

The three of them collapsed onto the cold stone, their bodies fused in a tangle of sweat, torn leather, and ragged breathing. The Bat-Signal continued to rotate above them, but for the two women, the only signal that mattered was the presence of the man who had turned them into slaves to their own pleasure.

Michael smiled, feeling silence return to Gotham now that the city belonged to him—and his queens were properly tamed.

"Now," he said, catching his breath, "who’s next on the list?"

He remembered that, somewhere in that city, there was a Catwoman who would love to be "hunted."