What if evil batwoman lost

Kate Kane, the legendary Batwoman, is the terror of Gotham. She is a cold, calculating, and incredibly intense lesbian vigilante. She wears high tech, tactical black armor, her eyes sharp as razors, her heart hardened by a life of brutal, efficient justice. She is the ultimate predator, a woman who commands respect through fear and unmatched discipline. She has no time for jokes, no time for nonsense, and certainly no time for the "frivolous" whims of the Joker's heroic counterpart.

The accident happens during a high speed chase through the neon lit rooftops of Gotham. The Jokester, attempting to deploy a "Giggle Gas Grenade" to disarm a group of thugs, misses his mark. The canister bounces off a gargoyle and explodes directly in Kate's face.

But this isn't the Joker Venom of the main universe. This is "Bimbo Bloom Gas" a experimental, high potency pheromonal compound the Jokester invented to "lighten the mood" of the grim city.

The effect is instantaneous and catastrophic for Kate's dignity.

As the pink, shimmering mist settles into her lungs, the tactical discipline in her brain begins to unravel. The sharp, analytical thoughts about patrol routes and criminal psychology are replaced by a soft, fluttering sensation in her chest. Her intense, brooding gaze softens, her pupils dilating until her eyes look wide, innocent, and perpetually dazed.

"What... what is this... feeling?" she tries to growl, but the command in her voice is replaced by a breathy, high pitched lilt.

Her armor begins to feel... wrong. It's too tight, too restrictive. As the gas works its magic, her body begins to rebel against the tactical plating. Her muscular, athletic frame swells with sudden, exaggerated femininity. Her breasts push violently against the reinforced Kevlar, straining the seams until they threaten to burst. Her waist nips in sharply, and her hips flare out, making her heavy, rounded ass jiggle with every step she takes.

The Jokester skids to a halt on his colorful hover cycle, his grin widening as he sees the terrifying Batwoman stumbling, her cape fluttering uselessly behind her. "Oops! Looks like a bit of a miscalculation, Batty! You look a little... brighter!"

Kate reaches up to touch her face, her gloved fingers feeling strangely clumsy. She looks down at her chest, watching her nipples poke prominently through the dark fabric. A strange, dizzying heat is pooling between her thighs, a heavy, wet ache that she has never felt before. The cold, calculating warrior is dying, and in her place, a gorgeous, hyper feminine, and incredibly thirsty bimbo is being born.