MtK update

The cat burglar froze Tracey with a look, then reached between her own thighs and came up with a finger dripping with cum. She sucked it between her pert lips.

“Someone’s jealous,” Selina observed smugly. “I would’ve thought that the last thing a free agent like yourself would want was to be knocked up by Bruce Wayne.”

“I don’t… do… cor blimey, he gave you so much, you can’t let me have none?” Tracey demanded through a swirl of confusion.

The next thing she knew, the married couple had descended upon her. Bruce’s powerful body embraced her from behind, spooning her, while Selina nestled against the front of her body. Tracey felt the warmth of the cum Bruce had deposited in her as Selina rubbed her pussy against one of Tracey’s thighs.

“Be his bitch, like I am,” Selina whispered in her ear. “Live with us. Get fucked by us. You can be his cum dumpster every day.”

Tracey trembled with attraction to the idea. Penguin might’ve kept her in the lap of luxury, but no amount of jewelry or mink coats could please her like what she’d almost possessed tonight. And Bruce was rich. He could surely keep Tracey set up in the fashion she was accustomed to. But…

“What about Cobblepot? He’ll none be too happy about me flying the coop.”

“Scared?” Bruce asked her.

“And you wouldn’t be, eh?”

“He wouldn’t dare make a move against the Wayne family,” Selina assured her. “And he couldn’t do any harm in jail.”

“And what’s he gonna be doing in a flowery dell?”

“You know things,” Bruce said. “You could go to the police. No matter how much you confessed to, you’d get off scot-free the moment you married me.”

“Half the police work for that geezer!”

“Not Jim Gordon.”

“He’s a friend of Brucie’s,” Selina informed her confidently.

Tracey didn’t know. It was so hard to think when she’d just been so well-fucked. A part of her wanted to pass out; another part wanted even more. She craved the feeling of Bruce’s hard, thick cock bulling into her asshole, while Selina’s slim, clever fingers reached into her cunt. She wanted to be packed full of both of them, to feel both of them in both her holes.

In her mind’s eye, Tracey imagined Bruce and Selina’s bodies on either side of her, pushing in so tightly to her that they touched each other as well, brushing together in mutual enjoyment of one another’s feel and savoring her as well. From her plush flesh to the fading tightness of her opening.

As they fucked her together, maybe others could get involved, like Candy or Lark. She could lick at Bruce’s balls, maybe try to squeeze her head in far enough to touch her wonderfully knowledgeable tongue against Tracey’s clit.

It would make her faint, Tracey knew. So much concentrated and overwhelming love for her would shatter her mind into a thousand pieces, all ecstatic, tripping her into a delirium of rapture she might never wake up from. But if she did pass out, no doubt they would keep fucking her until she came back to them. Out of the shadowy dreamland of sordid pleasures and into the brightness of orgasm.

“I think she needs more convincing,” Bruce husked to Selina. His voice was a growl, but he didn’t seem irritated or rough. Just determined. Like he would give Tracey as much fucking as it took to show her how vulnerable to it she was.

“If you were out to convince me, I know I’d want all the convincing I could get,” Selina quipped.

“You wouldn’t take much—wouldn’t be able to--maybe she ought to make a little concession first.”

“Yes,” Selina agreed in a coo, petting Tracey’s hair. “Maybe she should admit what a whore she is before we get started.”

“That’d be good,” Bruce nodded. “I’d hate to think we’d come this far without her realizing she’s our cock-holster now.”

Tracey couldn’t speak. She could barely let out a squeak.

But she knew she had to tell them she was a slut for them. After all, what was the point of denying it? The more territory she ceded to their combined domination, the more pleasure she gained. It was like they were buying her from the Penguin, inch by inch, and paying in the most unspeakable delights.

“Whore,” Tracey breathed. “I’m a proper whore, now ain’t I just?”

They were quick to agree with her, and show her exactly how much of one she was.

***

Kara didn’t know what the hell to make of this. She’d known Dick’s big-boobed slut was pretty horny—she was horny too—but she hadn’t expected all that scantily-clad, big-haired, hourglass-figured sexuality to be directed at her.

People flirted with her all the time, but in comparison to Kory, it was pathetic: begging her to notice them, gawking at her, even trying fruitlessly to browbeat her. Her, one of the most powerful mortals on Earth.

Kory spoke innocently, enthusiastically, as if she were talking about some totally normal, everyday thing she simply had an unbridled passion for: “All I’m trying to say is that neither of us are home. There’s sadness in that, but there’s also opportunity. Everything here is strange and new; none of the constraints of the cultures we grew up with. We may explore, both the newness outside and the newness within ourselves.”

All Kory did was give a sample of her sensuality, a pleasant touch that was almost innocent (yet far from innocent). And that was enough to make Kara feel butterflies in her stomach, have trouble getting words through her feverish brain to her swollen lips.

“I would think someone as young as you would be curious… perhaps even fascinated by all there is to do. And perhaps it’s just my preference, but I think it’s more interesting to find out for ourselves what is good and pleasurable, rather than hold to rigid doctrine that no longer applies.”

Kara couldn’t even remember the cover story she had planned to explain away hiding Dick from Kory. It made her wonder if she was really woman enough for Dick—and after she’d been more than woman enough for him, she’d been two women! Herself and Mary. So why did she feel that the two of them couldn’t hold a candle to this one glorious, exotic goddess of a woman?

Her tits weren’t that big, she just showed so much of them…

“Aren’t we all just trying to find out what makes us happy? Why limit ourselves to what once we were told should make us happy, when this is our place now and we are the ones who make the rules?”

“I don’t want to talk about that anymore today,” Kara said, finally cutting Kory off long after her words had wormed into her Kryptonian mind. “In fact, I think you should be going. Dick will probably be in touch with you when he wants to see you next.”

Kara stood up to show Kory out and Kory stood with her. Before Kara could move off, Kory caught her hand.

“And what about you?” she asked.

Kara turned to face her and once more was struck by how beautiful Kory was.

But it wasn’t just how perfectly her body was formed, how much of her femininity there was for her skimpy clothing to express. Those all-green eyes seemed to hold a limitless amount of sensuality, a kinky interest in whatever she looked at.

“What about me?” Kara retorted.

Kory smiled like she was in the middle of a sexual fantasy; a fantasy that a person would kill to have be about them.

“This,” Kory said plainly, and leaned in to kiss Kara as if no one had ever kissed the Kryptonian before and Kory was out to let her know what she’d been missing.

***

Lark couldn’t believe her ears. “All of them?” she gasped.

“Why not?” Ivy asked with a drunken giggle. “They’re in Bruce’s… hic… harem anyway. So am I. Why not have sex with me? Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but… every single one?” Lark asked, staggered, reeling. In trying to absorb the shock of it, her mind kept presenting her with combinations. All the woman who could’ve slept with Ivy and, according to her, had.

Ivy sipped her Bloody Mary with a shrug. “If you’re going to fuck one, why not the rest? They’re all pretty, aren’t they?”

“That’s not the point!”

Ivy wondered if she’d made a mistake in being so frank with the woman. The booze made it so easy and yet now that the words were spoken…

She’d thought to be explicit about just what it was Lark was being offered, but she was afraid she’d shocked the poor girl. And here she believed she was such a seductress. Maybe Ivy had been relying on the pheromones too much for too long. Could that be how Bruce… Batman… had always managed to resist her?

Once you took the chemicals out of the equation, she was just a redhead with a great rack and one hell of an exotic skin tone. Clearly, Bruce had experience in that department.

Perhaps she’d have to step up her game if she expected to be the most sensual of Bruce’s wives. And Ivy quite liked the thought that, when Bruce needed a temptress, she was one of the three women he’d called upon.

And she had to be the first one he thought of.

Wasn’t she?

“Maybe I exaggerated a little,” Ivy said, another hiccup adding a note of digestive regret to her words. “I haven’t slept with all of them… not yet… but I’m going to. Here, have another drink. It’s just that… why wouldn’t you? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t take advantage of the situation if you were in my Manolos.”

“You don’t think I’m in your situation?” Lark bristled. “Me and Tracey and Candy?”

Ivy stared at her, wondering if Lark was a fool or a liar or just… as weird as a girl would have to be to be the Penguin’s kept woman.

“So I suppose if you were me, it’d be just Bruce, all the time?” Ivy asked. “Even when there are other women you have to share him with? I’m… happy with the guy, but that doesn’t stop me from living. Bruce adores me—I’m sure he doesn’t mind letting me adore the occasional other person. After all, Harley and I were a package deal…”