Chapter 12: Nightwing Tries to Get Ahead...

“MmmmMMMMFFOOOOHHH~!” Ricarda woke up with a gasp on her blue-hued rug. Dawn’s soft light peeked through her window like a femme voyeur in her college team’s sweaty lockers.

She woke as if finally emerging through a deep sea of ASS. It felt like someone shoved her head between gigantic, gelatinous, undulating ASSCHEEKS. The cavernous depth crushed her in between their massive abundance.

“I *HAH* I-I….” Her training kicked in through the haze, and she scanned her surroundings. Her lifestyle required the ability to regain awareness no matter how disoriented. To figure out her location and make the following tactical steps. “Bwa-what? how??”

Therefore, she was incredibly confused that she was back in her apartment.

“I’m here? I’m home? How am I home?”

The first thing she did was look at her clandestine security measures. But, by all indications, they are active and undisturbed as she left them yesterday.

“Last I remember, I was in the truck. It felt like it pulled into the grass. I could hear the sirens and was miles away from the city with no way to get out of there.”

Did someone bring her here? If so, they would have to know where Nightwing, where Ricarda Grayson, lives. And only she could get through without tripping them.

Did someone slip through her measures and bring her back? Did one of her friends find her and bring her? Or did someone, some greater ****?

*CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP*

“No,” She deduced after lifting her hips for no particular reason, allowing her buttcheeks to CLAP of their own volition.

“I must’ve… must’ve got out of the truck… then to the road before the patrol cars arrived. Yeah, I hitched a ride on top to the city and grappled the rest of the way.”

That was the only thing she could reasonably surmise. What other explanation could there be?

“I can’t believe my muscle memory alone pulled me through. Guess I have to thank mommy for incessantly drilling me.”

Yet that couldn’t explain how she was completely naked, lying on her back. As if she collapsed from being overwhelmed by a nonstop circle jerk, utterly showering her in jizz, for example.

“Either way, I’d rather be here than back in the field. Any longer, and Nightwing would have enjoyed the BPD’s hospitality alongside Foxy and her...”

Upon uttering her foe’s name yesterday, a tremor ran through her body. “Oh no! Oh-oh, Goddess! No!” The memories of what she did overtook her mind, her amazing, excessive, and stupendous ASSJOB.

The tactile sensations were the most vivid. Ricarda’s copious softness enveloped the thick, fleshy pole—the friction of malleable fat rubbing against a hard, veiny girth. The gravity of her large twin weights rising, jiggling wildly, and falling upon the base of the shaft.

She remembered how she clenched, massaged, and milked the hardness with her mass, feeling it quiver in delight as it surrendered to her ministrations. Then, finally, she felt the high-pressure stream of viscous fluid shot through the crevice between the great mounds, then gouts of chunky substance rained upon her, covering her near-entirely.

Ricarda shivered from the memory. But to her surprise and alarm, it was not in horror.

“I can’t believe that happened, but more than that….” She struggles to utter what her body does not deny. “Why-why did it feel so GOOD!”

It made her body blazing hot. Her skin shuddered at the phantom sensations. It felt better than a bubble bath, sauna, or full-day spa treatment.

“Why, in the Goddesses name, did I use my ASS to please a criminal!”

“Two criminals!” Remembering the moneylender Shumalith Ali enjoying her booty delights.

“It’s just like before!” Ricarda lamented, getting herself up out of her awkward position. Into the more natural feeling ASS-THRUSTING SQUAT. “Back when I was so addicted to sucking femme cocks.”

“I remember when I went after Cobblepot alone. That selfish shortstack hoards all the best femme meat poles for herself! Hmph!”

Ricarda paused after inexplicably uttering her recollections. “Wait, no. That’s not true. I was sick of waiting while Penguin freely equipped Gotham’s bad guys with nefarious products. It was foolish, and I ended up desperately fighting an army alone. I didn’t drain their balls like Aquawoman in a desert oasis of dicks.”

*CLAP*

In her pondering, ASS POPPIN’ POSITION, her cheeks started slamming into themselves. Ricarda was driven to BOOTYWHOP and BOOTYDROP without any conscious thought of her own.

“I didn’t…”

*CLAP*

“Did I?”

*CLAP*

“I can’t remember.”

*CLAP*

“No, I vividly remember.”

*CLAP*

“I’m so confuCLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP!”

**CLAP!!!**

Her brief but intense booty twerking resolved the conflict in her mind.

“Yes, I was an eager little slut when I was Robin. So **** to prove I was a big girl that could take big penises.”

“I thought I left that behind with the costume. I thought I grew out of being a dick-craving, jizz-guzzling tramp. Yet I fell back into it so easily!”

She sighed at seemingly falling back into her sluttiness. “Well, I never went so far as to let any crook claim my ASS. That’s only for Barbie and a few others.”

From that resignation came justification. “I was ****.” She told herself. “Foxy was trying to buttfuck me. She was going to make me her anal whore. Take me back to Gotham and pimp me out for Black Mask.”

“It was the only way to stop Foxy’s raging rock-hard cock. I was in a disadvantageous position, and there was nothing else I could do. I had to hotdog that burly thing between my vast ASSCHEEKS! I had to churn that girthy thing out for all its cream!”

“And Shumalith…it-it was the only way I could get her intelligence. Otherwise, I would lose my chance to get information rather than what Soames is feeding me.”

The deduction calmed her mind, yet her body was still quivering.

“Yes, it was necessary, that’s it. I didn’t do it because I wanted a jizz shower. I don’t do it because I’m a superslut.”

She paused after uttering Foxy’s accusation. “What a ridiculous name. It’s offensive to every other heroine serving justice worldwide. Thinking we’re all just a bunch of maniacs.

However, her mind wanders to overwhelming Kryptonian Juggs. Spicy hot booties paired with cool, pillowy titties. Overflowing gothiccness. And literal GoddASS blessed bodies. “So what if many of us have….extra-sized assets.”

“...Maybe you could say ludicrously oversized.”

“But-but that doesn’t mean we do this because we’re crazy for cocks. We’re heroines of truth and justice. It’s not an excuse to hunt for femme cocks for our ASSES!” She denied the images forming around and swarming her, of being surrounded by juicy meat and their flowing containers of thick creamy goodness and using her hands her slutbags her armpits her mouth her feet her ASS her ASS her ASS HER ASS HER ASS!!! to fill up her endless craving to finally make her a…”

“NO!” She yelled to herself. "Ri Ri's not a Twerk-Slut!"

That declaration settled her tumultuous mind, not so much her tumultuous loins. She looked towards her bedroom clock, and fortunately, she was up early again.

“Well, at least I have plenty of time. My new rug is doing a better job than my mattress.” She chucked, turning to levity to escape the anxiety and horniness. “Maybe I can finally stop being late.”

She heard the notification from her other phone. Meaning her new and least favorite associate wanted to meet. “Or not.”

“Nightwing can’t miss this. Meaning Officer Grayson probably will be late again.” She sighed. Regardless, Ricarda packed both her uniforms and set out.

…..

On the city’s northern edge, facing the inland marshes, is a truck depot where the False Facers procured their heist vehicle. The proprietress vehemently insisted on her innocence to the BPD when they busted down her door. She pleaded that the hounds of Black Mask gave her a hard argument to make her say yes, yes, yes, YES! to their demands. But, whether she was truthful or she got paid to bend over, spread them wide, and give them what they wanted, the police didn’t care; they arrested her for a long and intense interrogation.

It was a productive investigation for Inspector Phyllis Soames, pouring through the aftermath of the stolen office and the source of the theft’s get-and-getaway vehicle. That is, she collected evidence and information the precinct wanted to exclude from the records of this incident.

After questioning the owner, the inspector exited the establishment, leaving her subordinates to pick up the lot manager’s freshly cum-stuffed body.

She fastened her trenchcoat and told her girls not to wait for her, moving to the roof of an adjacent building. It was relatively tall, inconspicuous, and out of the way, an ideal courtesy of privacy for her new and favorite associate.

“So there was a depot towards the Moores, leading to Shumalith’s office.” Soames didn’t turn as the irate heroine emerged. “Cleanly leading to Halyard, Stark, and a straight path out of the city.”

“For such a ridiculous heist, the execution was surgical. I doubt that aggressive Fox could be so thorough. Especially without knowing the roads.”

The dubious officer finally moved to face Nightwing. However, the heroine wouldn’t let Soames get a word in, aiming to catch her before her defense was up. Also, she wanted to vent on her frustrating “friend.”

“How did the False Facers find one of Blüdhaven’s biggest launderers. And one of the only independents left. It’s too convenient that they singled her out specifically in their short time in the city. Even though they failed, her business is thoroughly compromised.” And thoroughly semen-stained, but Nightwing desperately hoped Soames wouldn’t bring that fact up.

“Then there’s the woman herself. There was no statement on who got office napped. The regular cops don’t even know who they arrested. I bet the only ones who do are Redhorn and the woman in front of me.” The bird’s beautiful blue eyes glared like Superwoman’s heat vision. “Shumalith had dealings with everyone, more than just the crooks. Whoever now owns her owns that leverage!”

“You know what’s happening, Soames! You’re perfectly positioned to work every side. You know where Shumalith is, what’s happening underground, and who’s pulling thoooOOAAAHHH~!!!” Nightwing couldn’t finish her accusation because Soames was now vigorously molesting her beautiful body.

“Aaaaaaaggghha~! Aaaawhat? What do you think your doooiiiiigh~!” Her tirade was quickly replaced with moans as the familiar haze of Slut Brain clouded her mind with sleaze.

“What I’m doing is getting my hands on all this ASS, lass!” Soames pulled the lust-impaired heroine into a perverted embrace, which revealed an even more shocking truth. Her hands covered less than half her pillowy moons. Nightwings ASS was HUGE!

Her booty meat expanded beyond their prior basketballs. The mounds jutted out to make an even deeper shelf behind her. Yet, despite the generously added mass, they were taut enough to keep their round bubble shape, soft enough to sink into like an abyss, and so springy they disproportionately jiggled at any **** placed on them.

How could the femme be expected to pay attention to words in front of this extra thiccness? The acrobat’s righteous fury paled compared to the statement her body was saying, which made the inspector horny as fuck. Burying her fingers in this tramp’s abundant ASSMEAT was a better use of her energy.

“I don’t remember you having this much booty. Is bloating these things up to impossible sizes your superpower?”

Oh, Goddess, She’s right! When did my butt-my ASS get this ridiculous!?

She was so rushed that she never noticed the extra layers gained on her cakes. But, the cop’s molesting made the awareness hit her like the truck she was chasing yesterday.

With that also came the surge of sensations, making her brain as malleable as her super plump cheeks. Not only did they grow, but they were so much more sensitive.

“T-That doesn’t have anything toohhaahh~! To d-do with what I’m sayiaaaAAAHHH~!!” Barely any sound that wasn’t lewd could be uttered as she fought through the ecstasy. “You have to tell m-me what’s going oooooooooooohhh~!”

Nightwing helplessly squirmed in the inspector’s grip. Why can’t I get her off me? I know that I’m stronger than Soames. But none of her training mattered when she squeezed her ASS, and therefore her mind, into submission.

“Nightwing, dearie, you have to relax. All this conspiratorial talk isn’t good fer these.” She dug to the underside of Nightwing’s cheeks and lifted, making them squish and cover the small of her back. “It’s making you tense. Why don’t you let me take all that…”

*SQUEEZE*

“OOOOOOOOHHHH~!!!”

“...PRESSURE in my hands. Yer so keen on learning everything you can, but what about us? We should get ta know each other better. After all, superheroes and the police should have friendly working relationships, right? Like that huge-titted Gotham Commissioner, that’s so friendly with The Bat.”

She moved to heft Nightwing tits, revealing a similar growth. While outshined by her ASS and undersized compared to the superhuman ultra honkers the League carried. Her enlarged boobies would smother heads and cocks. How could Nightwing not have noticed them covering her lower vision?

Regardless of her big bouncing boobies and bigger bouncier booty, Nightwing found enough strength to free herself from the gropefest right before she gave in and wiggled her ASS in a pendulous mating call.

“Ahhhhh! Haaaaaa!” Nightwing gasped, her back turned to Soames. She had to focus entirely on staying sane and holding back her misbehaving pussy.

This was too much! Soames being handsy has defined their relationship. The dirty cop had salivated for her ever since they met. Nightwing “tolerated” it for the sake of her cooperation and information. But this went way too far! Not even starting with objectifying small talk, she went straight to ravishing her! The mauling, the euphoria, and being called nothing but a super-stacked spandex slut, made her lose her mind!

“You… you cock-brained...” Nightwing grimaced. “This isn’t how you treat a woman!”

“Maybe not, but this is how you treat a bottom-heavy bimbo like you~!”

Bimbo!? Nightwing turned back to the outrageous officer, which turned out to be a mistake. As Nightwing was collecting herself, Phyllis Soames opened her trench coat.

With her coat fastened, it looked like she wore a regular button-up and tie. However, it turned out it was backless and shoulderless, cropped to the **** of showing the bottom half of her breast.

Beneath the under cleavage was nothing but a glittery neon purple jockstrap, stretched out by the thick girthy femme cock, her greatest tool as an enforcer. It was as long as a nightstick and even more effective at making women submit to her authority.

The jockstrap clutched the tool in a powerful grip as if Phyllis constantly received a smooth, velvety handjob, keeping her stiff and throbbing. Copious droplets of precum bubbled through the material. So it had been for the entirety of their conversation, if that puddle between her feet indicated.

“Like it, dearie? I only get the best from Starrware’s Gymbo line.”

“Uuuuuuhh…”

“My thoughts exactly~!” Phyllis giggled. “I bet you would look scrumptious in some Rave-Slaves.”

She shimmied her hips to make her virile pole wave, shake, and flex. “Though I bet yer more interested in the package I gift wrapped for you?” Phyllis ran her pointer and middle fingers up her long rod of law until reaching the bulbous cockhead, over the urethra.

Nightwing didn’t respond, but she didn’t look against the suggestion. She did nothing as Phyllis scooped up a big wad of her dick nectar. Nor did she stop her from putting the stained fingers between her thick lips. They also grew more prominent and sluttier, developing more into efficient suckers.

When the dick honey hit her tongue, it couldn’t help but dance with Phyllis’ digits. Even just sucking on fingers, Nightwing gave an excellent blowjob face, turning into a funnel to suck every micron of that sweet syrup.

That little morsel made Nightwing’s legs give, and she fell to her knees. All to the delight of the corrupt inspector.

“Ooooooh, lass, I’ve been dreaming of this since I met you.” She pulled out a familiar object—the mask of a False Facer. It bore her visage corrupted into a porn parody, though the differences were now less divergent.

That Nightwing had been facefucked into a well-worn sex toy. The oversized plastic lips were worn and stretched, shaped precisely to her circumference. The inside was thoroughly saturated in cum, permanently bearing the smell of her semen.

Getting all her use of it, she threw it aside. “Now I can use the real thing.”

What is wrong with her? What’s wrong with me?! The last bits of her logic screamed as it drowned in the sea of Slut Brain. Using me like a blow-up doll? Dammit, how did I let myself into this again?!

Because you’re a Twerk Slut, Ri Ri. The kind of bimbo bossed around by big dick energy.

No! That’s not true! She desperately cried to the voice in her head, too distressed to wonder where it came from. I’m not a Twerk-Slut! I’m not aoooooh fuck! It tastes so gooood~!!!

Nightwing’s mouth suddenly got stuffed with what felt like a doorknob. Nightwing’s eyes rolled back at the taste of rich semen-stained jockstrap-covered cockhead and the smell of potent femme musk. Her ASS automatically twerked and worked, legs spreading wide as she dropped down low, cheeks bouncing off the floor.

With a gush from Phyllis’ drooling cockhead, her last thoughts washed away at the savory hitting her taste buds. Her mind fell to the bottom of the ocean of Slut Brain as she mindlessly lapped at the dick’s peak.

“Ohhhhh, you lick my meat so good!” Nightwing’s lips hugged the tip, making it look like she was kissing it. And her cock was recuperating the make-out with thicker loads, less like honey and more like yogurt.

“I knew you were up to it, lass! Saving ya from being booked was ta best decision I ever made.” even in her ditzy state Nightwing’s natural skills Got the body of an overblown sex doll, UFH! Jiggling all day and night like a tower of puddin’, GUH! I wave my cock n’ yer face, and yer ready ta drain my balls, Haaaaaaah!

“You really are the perfect slut! I love it, Ri Ri~! I love you~!!”

Phyllis’ perverted affection reverberated through her enthralled heroine. Nightwing suckled on the drooling head of her shaft even more vigorously. She pulled it to the back of her mouth, then slowly went down its length. She raised herself higher off her knees and arched her spine, so her wobbling ASS was plainly in the inspector’s view. She was clapping for her, reaffirming her lust, encouraging her to go further.

“Oooooh, Dearie!” Phyllis cried blissfully. “Don’t worry your pretty head. Focus on the one in that mouth of yours. It’s best for everyone, keeping out of Blüdhaven’s shadows.”

Phyllis laid a gentle hand on top of Nightwing’s raven hair. “It’s best for you, Luv. “Then gripping it possessiveness, ready to shove her crotch. “My soon-to-be ****-wife.”

Then the worst sound possible interrupted their intimacy. Soames’ cell went off.

Her sultry lidded eyes turned wide with fury. “WHAT!” She snarled, listening to her caller in irritation. Yes, I know I told ya ta call me as soon as you got results, But Goddess did it have ta be now of all bloomin’ times!”

You’re interrupting my meeting with an important associate! I’ll call you back when I’m...” Soames shuddered but not in pleasure. Instead, she felt the fair city breeze and wetness upon a sensitive and now exposed part of her. She looked down, and to her horror, Nightwing was no longer wrapped around her femmehood.

The formal fellatio-giving heroine was already several blocks away, far enough not to hear the cry of anguish of being blue balled. The cell snapped Nightwing out of the spell of sluttiness, and in panicked reaction, she left Phyllis’ cock and the rooftops.

Running automatically, she focused on getting to the precinct station. As much as she would later deny it, Nightwing was ready to go balls-deep. She wanted Phyllis Soames to defile her face. To keep sucking that hard head. Make it cake her face in the white makeup of a proper whore. To have it fill her mouth and holes.

For that brief moment, she accepted her destiny. Yet misfortunate timing struck unwanted. She would get her due pounding to remind her of whose balls she’s underneath. But Nightwing wouldn’t get hers today. Instead, the blue-winged heroine will step aside for Officer Grayson.

But that’s fine. That just means it’s the cop’s turn to further her role in the future, and it isn’t her so-called investigation.