Wild/Knight

The images flashed over the Batcomputer’s main screen, others in the sequence splayed over the satellite monitors that circled the gargantuan viewer. The images were grisly, though not for Gotham. There was a clean, surgical precision that kept them from being truly gruesome, although in their own way, Alfred considered that just as disturbing. A frenzy of cutting, hacking, slashing violence Alfred could almost understand in response to this city, but to do such a thing deliberately, with calm aforethought… it boggled the mind. He doubted that even on his worst day would Bruce be capable of such a thing.

“Johns,” Batman said, reviewing the criminal records of the victims on a smaller monitor near his keyboard. The manifold redundancy of even his computer screens would be almost amusing, were it not for his grisly preoccupation. “All of them have arrests for solicitation, domestic violence, some for stalking, rape, child pornography…”

“The kind of ragamuffins even criminals turn their noses up at,” Alfred surmised. “Even in Gotham, I can’t imagine any shortage of triggermen willing to do the deed.”

He set down Bruce’s dinner on the desk beside him, though it went so flatly ignored that Alfred believed Batman’s hand might pass right through it if he unthinkingly moved it through the space the dishes occupied. 

“Most criminals would use guns, or at least their bare hands. A bladed weapon, used repeatedly—that’s rare.”

“You don’t think… Ms. Kyle?”

“No,” Bruce said quickly. “The cuts are too deep. And she stays in the East End; even she knows better than to try to lay down ground rules in the Narrows.”

“But if your working theory is that someone’s avenging themselves on those who abuse sex workers, she may know something.”

***

“Sure, I know something.” Selina took a deep drag of her cigarette, the ember glowing red on her lips and in her eyes. “I know they had it coming, all of them.”

“That’s not for any of us to—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Selina dusted some ash from the tip of her cig. “I didn’t do it. No class. No style, unless you’re into minimalism, I guess. What I heard. Quick, clean, carotid artery—“

“And everything else in the throats. They were ripped out.”

“Well, like I said. Couldn’t happen to anyone nicer.”

Batman kept his grip tight on the cape pulled concealingly around him. He didn’t like how easily Selina saw him, looking into his eyes as if sharing a grim enjoyment over these human animals who had been hunted down like just that, treated as they’d treated others. He didn’t want that. He couldn’t.

“You know as well as I do that this kind of violence can get out of control. Not to mention invite reprisals.”

A long inhale on the cancer stick before the smoke came out in a long river, as inexorable as the tide. “Maybe that’s why I haven’t been looking into it too closely. Afraid I’d help out. But I did pick up that all of the vics went to a certain club. The Dirty Shame, on Parmer. The girls there have it bad. Management makes them pay for their own bandages.”

“I’ll look into it,” Bruce said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Selina said. “Whoever she is, I don’t want to think I had anything to do with stopping her.”

***

A camera planted on the premises and then three days of surveillance, though he was pretty sure he had her in the first few hours. She was the only one who wasn’t cowed. Capable of violence, just from the way she held herself, though he never saw her do anything. Not on the clock. She gave them what she had and she took the money. But the way she circled, watched, lingered—she was a predator, guarding territory.

Bruce decided to see what would happen if he crossed her boundary.

***

“Are you Leila Short?” asked the man at Laura’s door. 

She looked at him in confusion—more at her inability to gauge him than at any of the perfectly ordinary details of his externality—then dropped her gaze. “Yes,” she said, “come in.”

He stepped through the door and she closed it behind him. She kept her face down, as if she were in the presence of an apex predator. When you didn’t know what to make of someone, it was best not to challenge him. Don’t let them know you can put up a fight until you have to fight.

He carried himself like he could handle himself, had good skin, good hair, but cheap cologne, ragged clothes. Didn’t sweat like he was used to ragged clothes, though. Barely sweat at all. And everyone sweated in Gotham City. He was handsome, too. What was he doing coming to a hooker? That didn’t make sense either.

The man stopped in the middle of her flood and stood there smiling bashfully at her. Cheeks burning, Laura forced herself to look at him.

Her first impression was right. He was tall, bulky, not with fat but with muscle. Long brown hair framed a long, handsome face, but it didn’t smell like his. A wig? A beard and moustache around a strong, blunt mouth, but they smelled fake too. She could understand covering up a bald spot, but why pretend not to be clean-shaven? It didn’t make sense, but people rarely made sense to her.

And his eyes were the deepest, most intense blue that she had ever seen. They made her think of deep pools. Could she drown in them?

It wasn’t that he was breathtakingly handsome, not with the way he carried himself, his smell—so much of that was what she might expect from a customer. It was just something about him, an aura of strength and warmth and generosity that nearly overpowered her.

“P-please, sit down, make yourself comfortable,” Laura stammered, playing the wounded gazelle and seeing if he took the bait. She didn’t have a pack, but she could protect herself as ably as anyone else could offer. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you,” he said, seating himself on the couch. “I’m on my lunch break. Don’t want to have liquor on my breath when I go back.”

He’s probably just another customer, Laura told herself. A weird one, maybe, but nothing to get worked up about. Just one more john who wants a lunch hour quickie. You shouldn’t be feeling anything at all if he’s not even worth killing.

“I’ll turn off the TV,” Laura said. She had left it on, loud, to cover up the noise if her new john had to go, but she already had such a sense of calm and forebearance from him that she couldn’t imagine he’d be a problem.

She went to pick up the remote, looking at the TV as she aimed at it, then stopped. Every muscle in her body tensed, her lips parting in a silent growl.

Senator Kelly was on the screen. He stood behind a podium, talking into a bombardment of flashing cameras that painted his face pure white.

She heard the low, familiar voice: “…stopping our society from becoming permanently inequal. The action today in banning mutants from sports competition is just the first step in making our society truly just, and fair to all its citizens, not just those genetically programmed to have an advantage…”

His words died with a click as Laura switched off the television. She was shaking all over, almost snarling.

“Is something the matter?” The man sounded like he was genuinely concerned.

Laura spun around, almost falling back against the television set. “Nothing,” she said, forcing a smile.

She walked toward him, swaying her hips until the hem of her short skirt was nearly clearing the tops of her thighs. They were tan from hours in the woods, wearing nothing but a snarl, and she knew the sight of her groin and the swings of her hips were what garnered his attention.

She was supposed to act enticing, to make the johns feel as if she were desperate for their irresistible masculinity, but she didn’t have to pretend to him. Her desires were every bit as simple as the ones she enflamed in males. She wanted to have him mount her and go inside her, like he was breeding her. The thought of actually being mated by him left her barely able to resist tearing off his clothes—she sat down beside him. His pants leg brushed her bare thigh. It would feel the same way if she wrapped her legs around him.

“What’s your name?” she asked in a low voice, staring into his blue eyes.

“Matches,” he said in his own low, masculine voice. He had a rough accent, a coarse way of talking that didn’t suit him, but she didn’t care. His body language was as commanding and self-assured as she could ever want. “What’s yours?”

“Leila,” she purred, rubbing against him like a cat. “I already told you.” Her fingers sought the buttons of his shirt. They had been trembling excitedly, but they weren’t anymore. He didn’t strike her as the kind of man to be forgetful.

“That’s right. Sorry. I don’t usually do this.”

That she could believe. “What would you like, Matches?” she asked. Beneath his shirt, his chest was broad and muscular. Curly black hairs and scars. She didn’t know which she liked better.

“I don’t care,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “I just came down here as kind of a dare. Some of my buddies were talking about how good the girls here were. Couldn’t stop talking about you in particular. Said you showed Vinnie San Giacomo a real good time. You remember him? Vinnie San Giacomo?”

Laura slid his sports jacket and his opened shirt off over his shoulders. Her full breasts brushed against his chest. She pulled the garments away and threw them on the coffee table.

“Most guys who come here I don’t care to remember.” She locked her hands behind her neck and flexed. Her breasts jutted up proudly in his face. “Well?” she asked, not having to strain for a note of lust to enter her voice. “What do you think?”

“I’m shocked,” he said frankly. There was no shyness in his voice as he reached to cup her chin gently, saying, “I didn’t know there’d be girls here this… beautiful.”

“Do something about it,” she said, her voice blank and blunt, without the forced seductiveness of before—just a challenge.

Suddenly his arms were around her. Their mouths fused together in a kiss. His tongue slipped past her full red lips. Her fingers played over his back, thrilling to the feel of still more scars as their tongues entwined. 

She could already tell, this man she would remember.

***

They broke apart. Panting, Laura pulled her blouse up over her head. Her breasts were svelte and ripe, barely constrained by her lacy half-bra. Bruce’s eyes widened as he marveled at their perkiness, fitting just right to her slim contours while offering a bountiful promise to the hands and eye.

Laura ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it up and letting it tumble over her bare shoulders like night falling. Bruce leaned forward hungrily. He reached behind Laura and undid her bra with a single authoritative movement of his fingers. Laura’s bra fell into her lap, her breasts falling free.

Bruce’s piercing eyes got wider, seeing her breasts barely slacken outside the confines of her bra. 

Laura threw her arms around him, hugging his face into the warm crevice within her cleavage. His stubble tickled her, while his nostrils filled with the slightly perfumed aroma of her health and horniness.

Opening his mouth, Bruce began to lick at the pert globes. His tongue went back and forth, coming near the tip of one glorious hillock before sliding into the valley and partway up the other pert slope. His teeth gently scraped Laura’s skin, adding an electric intensity to his contact with her. Maddeningly, he avoided touching her erect nipples even as they tingled with desire.

“Suck my nipples!” Laura demanded urgently. “Put them in your mouth!”

His tongue traced a wetly tingling spiral around one perky breast, starting at the underside and working toward the throbbing, needy engorgement that topped it. Laura’s breath came faster and faster as he got closer to it.

It touched the girlishly pink areola. Laura’s breath sucked in on her. When the burning wetness came just a little closer and finally touched the nipple, she let it out in a gasp of pleasure. 

“Like that, do you?” Bruce asked before sucking almost all of her small breast into his mouth.

Her eyes, shut tightly, flew open in shock. “Oh! Oooooh! I’m coming!”

She was shoved down on the couch, as much by the force of her orgasm as by him—her whole body coming alive against the soft covering of the furniture. Matches had barely laid a hand on her and yet she could feel her orgasm soaking her panties already.

Laura squirmed her ass hard into the cushions as the quick orgasm died away. Her legs spread apart, begging for attention between them, as she stared up at Bruce with his erection pounding inside his trousers. She could see it, smell it—her cunt ached with the need for it inside her.

Bruce bent over her, one hand steadying his weight on the wall behind her. His other hand dropped to her hip; her short skirt was riding upward from the opening of her thighs. His hand dipped to her cunt, letting him feel the wetness of her piqued sex.

Bruce moved down to her, reluctantly bypassing the sweet fruit of her breasts to kiss a cool line down her belly. He knelt down between her legs and then brought his lips in to kiss her panty-covered mound.

“Oooooh! Yes! Let me feel your tongue inside me!”

Bruce opened his mouth. His teeth worked Laura’s soaked panties away from her cunt. A finger slid over her labia. It sought a way inside her and found one.

Laura moaned as Bruce touched her slit, with his finger, with the brush of his lips, with the heat of his heaving exhales. Her hands stroked his dark hair. His finger prodded her cuntlips to the sides, then went inside of her.

Laura drew a hissing breath, rolling her hips along her penetration. Completely occupying Laura with his finger, Bruce used his hand to rip away her panties, baring her cunt to his lustful gaze. He kissed the soft mink fur of her pubic hair, then his lips slid down to her pink-lipped opening.

“That’s it!” Laura cried softly. She didn’t know how to talk dirty, just how to ask for more of what she liked. “Keep going! Keep doing that! It feels good!”

His lips working at Laura’s cunt, Bruce was rewarded with a juicy stream of her arousal. He could both feel and taste Laura’s sex getting hotter. She sucked in her tummy, clenched her cunt around his penetrating finger. Bruce took the pink lips of her cunt into his mouth and sucked gently on them, enjoying the contrast between Laura’s soft moans at his suction and her brisk cries at the end of his stroking finger.

“Eat my cunt—you’re eating my cunt—your finger—inside me…”

Bruce’s tongue crept out. He sent it along her sex until it touched the scarred knuckle of his buried finger. Slowly, he pulled his finger out, Laura’s cunt lewdly sucking as she lost it. His finger glistened with her cream, smelling even sweeter than the honey that filled his greedy mouth, but he ignored it as he slid his tongue in to replace the finger. His cock tented the front of his pants, begging to be free.

Laura was in heaven. Having her pussy eaten by this man was enough to drive her out of her mind, and she was writhing and sobbing in the grip of a new climax before she knew it. Her pussy tightened around his tongue, drawing it up inside her, and she came even harder than before. But it still wasn’t enough. Laura was still waiting for his cock, shoved up inside her as far as it would go.

And she needed it right now.

Laura tugged at Bruce’s sleek, soft hair. “No!” she gasped, pulling him away from her pussy. “I need to feel your cock! I need it going in my pussy!”

Bruce’s face rose from her cunt, her juices smeared on his chin, dripping down her mound. He ripped her panties away. Her cunt was gaping, dripping, waiting for him. He pushed his mouth against her labia again, fucking her with his tongue as he unfastened his pants. Just as Laura began to come again, he stood up, his cock springing free. Laura’s half-closed eyes flew open. His erection was a good nine inches long.

“I hope you like it,” Bruce breathed. “It sure likes you.”

He sat down beside her on the couch, picking her up and posing her in front of him. Her plump, rounded ass hovered over his groin, but Bruce held her over it, taking the moment to squeeze the blushing buttocks in his hand. Only when Laura let loose a simpering moan did he let her pert ass descend. Laura bit her lip in delicious anticipation. What would it be like to have all of his cock inside her? To make love to someone she wanted as much as he wanted her? She wanted him more than anything else, wanted to fuck him hard and fast, again and again until neither of them could take anymore. What would it be like to get him?

Laura found out.

It was heaven.

His giant cockhead touched itself to her pussy. Her lips parted eagerly for it, juices spilling down its magnificent length as the tip was held against her. Bruce was panting with desire. He watched Laura’s mons spread out to take all of his cock, felt the warm kiss of her inner flesh enveloping him. The warm, wet clench spread around his glans and moved down his shaft, almost tight enough to stop him from pulling Laura lower and lower and lower.

Laura’s hands were at her groin, holding her cunt wide open to allow him in. Her eyes were closed, her teeth grinding down into her lower lip. God! It’s incredible! She thought. He was just so big. The feeling of massive, pulsing flesh sliding up inside of her was delicious beyond anything she’d ever known. It seemed as if it would never stop. She didn’t want it to.

The endless, hardened length slid inside of her. She felt the burning warmth of the purple cockhead climbing higher and higher. She could feel it in her belly. Her hips were moving of their own accord, rocking like the sea, as if she were trying to soothe herself as she was stretched out as far as her folds could open. His thick cock crushed her stiffened clit against her pubic bone, curly hairs tickling her spread lips. With the release of a breath that seemed to have been impossibly deep inside her, she let herself down to enfold the base of his manhood with her labia. She had him all inside her now, and there was so much of him. She could’ve sworn she felt his stiffness in the back of her throat. And she could definitely feeling his racing heartbeat, pulsating madly through his impalement of her.

“Wow,” she said softly.

Bruce could only nod. His whole body was shaking, full of lust. He was losing control of his desire for her, his need to fuck her. His hands cupped her breasts, grinding the nipples against his sweaty palms as he rolled the pert mounds around, pressing them down to Laura’s ribcage and then pulling them away. Laura’s mouth hung open as she panted to have her tits warmly crushed in his big hands.

Laura was sitting on Bruce’s lap now, but her legs were just long enough to put her feet flat on the floor. Muscles stood out from her toned thighs as she began a slow undulation against him, and sweat burnished Bruce’s forehead as her cunt rolled and rippled around his deeply buried member.

“Leila!” he whispered. “Leila!”

“Don’t talk!” Laura said huskily. She couldn’t take the reminder that he wasn’t speaking to her, wasn’t saying her name, only a whore’s. “Fuck me! Fuck me so good!”

She lifted first one foot and then the other, tucking them back under her small ass along Bruce’s meaty thighs. The tightening of her cunt as she did so made Bruce gape like a fish on dry land. He could barely hold himself back from throwing Laura down and venting all of his lust and need into her tiny body. Even with Selina, even with Ivy’s most potent pheromones, he’d never been so close to just fucking a girl until she broke.

“Fuck me so good,” Laura repeated, tensing the muscles of her thighs to lift herself up off of Bruce’s lap. He leaned back and stared wide-eyed as his cock wetly slipped out of her, coated with her shiny cream, the tightness of her sex slipping reluctantly up his shaft. Bruce clenched his teeth, her cunt seeming to clench harder and faster around his length as more and more of him came free.

The suction made by his withdrawal was having the same effect on Laura. She’d never felt such pleasure. And there was still more, quivering inside of her, grating over her swollen clitoris as her body grudgingly gave him up.

Laura lifted her ass higher and higher, until she was on her knees straddling his crotch, her ass practically in his face. Bruce licked at the small of Laura’s back as she paused for a long moment, the tip of him still inside her, hot as an ember. His cockhead’s head seared her flammable clit, starting fires deep within her. All she could do was choose between putting the fire out and throwing gasoline on it.

Laura bit her lip and lowered herself down to him. With crazed energy, she started to fuck herself on Bruce’s cock, pumping herself up and down as if she couldn’t get enough of his giant prick: entering her, exiting her, being inside her.

And Bruce couldn’t be sated either. He had to have more of her virginally tight cunt. Every time she slid down his shaft, he thrust his hips up to meet her, and every time she lifted herself up he barely waited a heartbeat before pulling on her hips and bringing her back down again. They fucked together faster and faster, working like a machine, going in and out, in and out.

The folds of Laura’s cunt squeezed his cock even as it filled her to capacity, stretching her walls to a painful extent. And still her lust demanded more. As she kept up the demanding pace that his jerking hands had set, Bruce ran his palms up to Laura’s breasts, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers. He pulled on them, and pushed them against Laura’s chest as she rose and feel, every motion adding to Laura’s feverish passion.

“I’ve never felt anything like this before!” Laura forced out as her cunt was fucked relentlessly.

“Neither… have… I…” Bruce grunted. As she lowered her ass onto him, he put one foot on the floor to steady himself as he pushed up into her with all of his strength. The effort drove him into Laura up to the hilt, lifting her into the air.

“Fuck! I’m coming!” she exclaimed. Her pussy spasmed around Bruce’s manhood and she writhed helplessly around her impalement. “Fuck my pussy while it’s coming!”

Bruce’s hands clenched on the tops of her thighs. He literally dragged her off of him, pulling her cunt up the length of his cock. His length was shining with her abundant juices. 

“No, no, make me come! Fuck me, I want to come!”

Bruce pulled her back down as he stuffed himself in her. An overwhelming climax went off between them. It was what Laura had been waiting for, the finale that her previous pleasure had all been a prelude to. What she’d been trying to find with all the other men she’d ever slept with.

Ecstasy.

Laura’s orgasm tightened around Bruce’s cock like a fist. A throbbing went through his whole body, showing him it was impossible to hold back, and then he came inside her. “Hnnnh! Yes! Fuck yes!” he said as the first shot of his cum jetted inside of her.

The cum boiled up Laura’s churning sex. She could feel it, almost taste it as it filled her. “Nn! Put it in me! It makes me come harder!” she cried. “I want it, I want all of it! In my pussy! Ooh! I love it!”

Bruce pumped his load inside of Laura, her pussy milking his cock over and over again, bringing more and more spurts out of his bloated scrotum.

Orgasm after orgasm piled into Laura’s sensations. It was an eternity before Bruce’s cock slid out of her, then a sweet infinity when he drove back into her. She barely managed to look over her shoulder to see his eyes screwed tightly shut, his lips moving soundlessly—it was all he could do to keep breathing.

Finally the last drop of his seed had been fired out of him. The tremors of his own orgasm kept going, rebounding through Laura’s suffocating pussy, but even they slowly subsided until his prick was still.

Laura tried to give his cock a last hopeful squeeze with her cunt, fetching more of his cum, but she couldn’t move in, couldn’t even feel it. She felt Bruce pick her up and she cried out briefly as he lowered her to the side. Slowly his manhood emerged from her, only belatedly leaving her and letting out the cum that he’d pumped into her.

Laura lay on the couch, limp and spent. She was in a daze, barely aware of anything but how well she’d been fucked. Fucked better than she’d ever dreamed a man could.

Better than she ever would be again, she thought with sick certainty. 

Something touched her feverish cheek. She opened her eyes and saw Bruce’s staring back at her as he drew back. He had kissed her goodbye. He was dressed again, looking unruffled, like nothing had happened.

“I’ve got to go now,” he said softly. “Would you like to come with me?”