the fastest maid in the world

The air in Wayne Manor was no longer composed merely of oxygen and nitrogen, but of a static electricity that made the hair on any visitor's arms stand on end. Michael no longer needed words to issue commands; his will was the gravitational force of that house.

As Brianna sobbed with pleasure in his lap and Alfreda—the housekeeper with the statuesque physique—slowly lowered the zipper of her dress with agonizing calm, a red-and-gold blur shot through the study door like a lightning bolt.

The impact was so sudden that the displacement of air nearly knocked the crystal vases off the table. Standing in the center of the Persian rug was Barry—or rather, *Bari*. She was a vision of contrasts: the nervous agility of a speedster combined with the hypnotic curves of a supermodel. Her long, shapely legs ended in red boots that vibrated at a nearly imperceptible frequency. The maid’s uniform she wore—modified by Wayne Industries to withstand the friction of super-speed—clung to her skin; the sheer fabric barely contained the swell of her breasts as she breathed heavily.

"T-the library has been dusted, Master Michael!" she blurted out, speaking at a frenetic pace, though her gaze remained fixed on his body. "And the conservatory windows have been polished three times in the last five seconds."

Bari was no longer the heroine trying to fix the timeline. She had given up the fight against fate. With every time jump, with every attempt to save her mother, she found herself drawn deeper into the vortex of power that was Michael. In time, she stopped fighting the current and let herself drown in desire for him. Now, her only mission was domestic efficiency and the carnal satisfaction of her master. ...so she would remember how her body had suddenly felt so feminine.

Michael smiled, observing the submission of the fastest woman in the world. "Come here, Bari; take off that uniform. Leave the cleaning for later."

She didn't walk over; she simply appeared—instantly—kneeling between his legs. Her lightning-fast reflexes turned every touch from Michael into a delayed explosion of pleasure. For Bari, a single second of Michael’s caress was equivalent to hours of sensory stimulation.

"Please..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "I’ve cleaned everything up. Now purify *me*... of all this anxiety." Michael wrote the new rule in the air—invisible to the women, yet felt by all of them: *with every touch from Michael, Bari became more sensitive.*

The effect was overwhelming. Michael slid his hand along Bari’s thigh, moving slowly. The instant his fingers grazed the lace of her lingerie, Bari let out a sharp cry. She tried to move, but the sheer intensity of her heightened sensitivity turned that simple touch into an electric shock that raced up her spine like a lightning bolt.

"Ah!" she arched her back, her eyes rolling upward. "It’s too much... I can feel... every molecule...!"

Watching the scene, Alfreda felt no jealousy—only a shared desire. She stepped closer, sliding her hands over Michael’s shoulders, while Brianna clung to his legs, forming a circle of devotion and lust. Alfreda moved in front of Michael and embraced Bari to heighten the tension for him; his sister had decided to let him have his fun with the two maids.

"Miss Bari seems to be in a hurry, Master," Alfreda whispered seductively into his ear, her ample breasts pressing against his back. "Perhaps we need to teach her that, in this house, the only thing that should be quick is the delivery of pleasure." In the blink of an eye, Michael appeared naked in his bedroom with the two maids.

Michael laughed, feeling like the true architect of that existence. He pulled Bari up, feeling her skin vibrate against his own. He took her with a force that would have made any other human being faint, but Bari—with her enhanced physiology—responded with a frenzied intensity. Each thrust was amplified millions of times by her accelerated perception; to Bari, the act lasted an eternity, and every inch of friction represented the peak of unbearable ecstasy.

Meanwhile, Alfreda and Brianna merged with the couple, turning the scene into a tangle of limbs, sweat, and moans. Wayne Manor was no longer a home; it was an erotic temple where the laws of physics were mere suggestions and the only god was Michael. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the two women, aware that, if he wished, he could turn the entire universe into his private playground. But for now, the weight of their bodies against his skin was the only reality that mattered. "Tomorrow," Michael whispered—as Bari surrendered to an orgasm that, for her, lasted ten minutes of pure, delicious agony—"we'll see who else we can bring into the 'family'."

(Author's note: Once again, I have to thank Lawless for this chapter.)