Marry The Beyond

Terry struggled for consciousness. He tried to think—he was in the Batsuit and given that there was no way Bruce would let him fall asleep like that under any circumstances, this was bad. The last thing he remembered was fighting the Jokerz. He’d taken most of them out, but when he’d faced the Dee Dees…

Well, his head still hurt.

He flexed his arms. They were bound behind his back—he could feel the cold, rusted texture of heavy shipping chains, strong and heavy enough to hold even the Batsuit. His feet were encased in cement blocks—old school. And judging from the fact that Bruce wasn’t roaring in his ears, he guessed there was a jammer blocking communications, maybe even his tracker. Which meant it was time to do the death trap thing.

Scanning his surroundings, he could make out that he was in one of the tenements a gang like the Jokerz would rotate between. Cleared of inhabitants, scheduled for demolition, but with the actual deed tied up in red tape, it was the perfect target for vagrants and people flying under the radar. The hideout might’ve been a halfway decent place to live once, but it’d been torn up and graffitied and trashed until it looked like a war zone. He was seated in the middle of a couch, a coffee table with the glass top smashed through lying before him.

“Is our guest awake, Deedee?”

“It looks that way, Deedee.”

Terry groaned inwardly. Of all the people to take him out, why did it have to be Deirdre and Delia Dennis? The twins came out of the kitchen, wearing their usual attire of white-hot shorts and red tubetops, both tight and brief to show off their slender hips and nubile breasts. White caps were perched on their red fright wigs, with white, red-dotted facial paint completing their Raggedy Ann images. They were cute as hell, Terry had to admit, and about his own age, but totally psychotic—it ran in the family, from Harley Quinn on down to them.

“Welcome to our humble home, Bats.”

“How do you like our decorating, Bats? We had Bonk do the interiors.”

Terry railed against the chains and cement holding him down, but the combination was simply too much for his suit to overcome. He was pinned in place as they traipsed toward him, moving with eerily synchronized movements. They have to practice that schway, he thought.

They kept the conversation going, sounding remarkably like one woman talking to herself. “Don’t worry about the Jokerz—you knocked them all out cold.”

“No loot for them.”

“The cops picked them up.”

“Looks like another stint in juvie for all of them.”

“Leaving us all alone.”

They faced each other. “Looks like we’re in charge of the Jokerz now, Deedee.”

“We are the Jokerz now, Deedee.”

“Sounds like you got lucky,” Terry said, interrupting their infinitely reflecting monologue. “How about you cut me loose and I’ll look the other way? Maybe you can get some real jobs instead of joining your friends in lock-up.”

They whirled on him, shocked into comically wide eyes. “He speaks!” they cried in unison.

“We thought of you as more the strong, silent type.”

“Definite downgrade, this.”

“We’re not interested in you for your conversation skills.”

“But we do want to go straight.”

“Yeah,” the other Deedee—Delia?—laughed. “We can all be straight.”

“It’s not gay if it’s with your sister.”

“Then it’s bonding.”

“Did you say bondage?”

Terry interrupted, “If you want to go straight, then get this crap off of me!”

Deirdre brushed a lock of red hair out of her eyes and sank down onto the couch to Terry’s right. Delia slid into place on his left. They were petite girls, but they seemed to crowd in on Terry, sitting very close to him. He could smell the sweet, girly friskiness coming off of them. 

He sat there between them, gazing between the two like he was looking from a real being to a mirror reflection, searching for the difference. When they each placed a hand on his thigh, he stayed stoic, glancing down at their fondling hands as if they were touching someone else.

“It’s not like we want to get a job at Big Belly Burger.”

“Or mopping floors.”

“Or cleaning toilets.”

“Ewww!” both twins chorused.

Their hands stroked up and down his thighs. Deirdre placed her free hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“We want the same deal Nana Harley got,” Deirdre said.

“Living in a mansion.”

“Going on shopping sprees.”

“Fast food for every meal…”

“Ice cream every day…”

“Cock.”

“Cock,” Deirdre agreed emphatically.

Delia was stroking her hand high up his thigh. It went higher, higher, until her fingers were moving into his crotch, supping the bulge of his manhood. For a moment, Terry couldn’t say anything. He gazed down as if he were just watching some weird VR program. Then he shifted in his seat.

“What are you talking about?” he asked dumbly. “What are you even doing?” He twisted his hips, pulling his groin away from Delia’s hand.

“We’re just trying to make you feel good,” Deirdre said. With Terry having turned away from Delia, he’d put himself within reach of Deirdre, and she replaced Delia’s hand on his crotch with her own. “Must be stressful, being the Batman. You could use a little relaxation.”

“Maybe that could be our job,” Delia said. “When we ‘go straight’.”

“This is really straight.”

“Even though there are two of us girls.”

“But it feels like he has enough cock for two guys.”

“So it evens out.”

“Get off of me!” Terry gasped. “I have a girlfriend!”

“Now you have three,” the girls chorused.

He writhed between the twins, trying to heave himself up from the couch, but they both threw a leg over his thighs and held him down. They forced all of their weight on top of him; he watched helplessly as Delia’s hand joined her sister’s, two sets of expert fingers massaging his bulge through the costume.

“This is crazy!” Terry groaned, still fighting. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

They both grinned at him, like one smile stretched across two faces.

“Nothing much.”

“We’re just going to fuck your brains out.”

“Since you wouldn’t fuck ours out.”

“You’ve ignored us for too long.”

“It’s time for us to join the family business.”

“And for your business to boom.”

“You wouldn’t want to disappoint your new girlfriends, would you?”

“Not when we’ve waited so long.”

“And practiced so much.”

“And you have so much.”

“Just like your Batdaddy.”

“Nana Harley says he fucked her good.”

“And Auntie Ivy.”

“And Aunt Selina.”

“And everyone else with a set of legs that opened.”

“No wonder he retired.”

“All the bad girls in Gotham couldn’t get away from the cops with the limps he gave them.”

“And that’s a lot of bad girls.”

“I hear Gotham was a really nice place to live when all the Sirens were his bitches.”

“Too bad a bunch of new villains showed up.”

“Guess you’ll have to fuck us too.”

“Harder.”

“Since we’re all empowered now.”

“Good thing you have all this new technology.”

“Maybe your cock can vibrate now.”

“Or it tastes like chocolate.”

“Mmmm,” they said as one, “chocolate…”

“I think you flunked history class,” Terry moaned. He glared down at his lap, amazed to see that it was stiffening inside his suit. Painfully stiffening; it wasn’t like there was a lot of room in a skintight exoskeleton. Trust Bruce not to think of someone getting a hard-on in the Batsuit. If he didn’t do something quick, he might end up half the man he used to be…

“You can flunk us all you want,” the two Deedees said, naturally.

Terry gritted his teeth. Well, it wasn’t like Dana hadn’t had to understand things before. “April Moon,” he said, the command phrase indelibly etched into his memory from an earlier case, now used to disable his suit’s failsafes in case he had to take a whiz on patrol. It’d taken a lot of work, getting Bruce to install a fly in the damn thing instead of expecting him to use the ‘fluid reclamation system’. But what kind of Batman pissed his pants in the middle of intimidating a bunch of gangsters?

Deirdre cooed in delight as she saw the teeth of a zipper apparently materialize from nowhere in his crotch. She and Delia locked their pinkies together around the zipper and pulled it down the length of his groin. Terry made one final effort to break free, but he just wasn’t strong enough. He sank back down with a sigh and watched as their slender fingers curled around his cock and hauled it out into the open, its engorged length filling both their hands.

“His cock is so nice!” Delia said.

“I knew it would be.”

“I knew it would be!”

“Would you like—“ Deirdre started to say to Terry, only for Delia to break in.

“Would you like me to suck it?”

Terry groaned affirmatively. He watched half in disbelief as Delia pulled her cap down, holding her hair out of her face, and bent down to lick his cockhead. It seemed like he’d barely even gasped at the feel of her tongue lapping over his glans before her mouth was sinking down his shaft, inch after inch of his engorged length disappearing into her lips, her mouth.

“Does that feel good, Bats?” Deirdre had ran her hand under his balls to massage them gently. ”Do you like having a hot slut like Delia sucking your dick?”

Delia’s head began to pump up and down on Terry’s cock.

“I can’t believe this!” Terry panted. He sat there in a daze, watching Delia go down on him. His cock was growing huge in her mouth. He was battered and bruised. He was more than a little pissed off. He didn’t like either of these two idiots and he liked them even less when they were together.

But his member was as hard as stone. He couldn’t explain it. Maybe Bruce was right about how immature he was. He couldn’t care about what awful people the Deedees were, just that they had mouths and he had a hard-on.

“Is it hard enough for me to fuck now?” Deirdre asked.

“Mmmph!” Delia moaned, refusing to let go of his cock. She bobbed her head up and down on the portion she could fit into her mouth, stroking the base in her fist.

Deirdre stood up and undressed. In seconds she was out of her shorts and top, posing naked for Terry, lifting her breasts, spreading the lips of her cunt, then turning around to wiggle her pert ass at him. Taunting him with his inability to get up from the couch and have her. 

Terry looked from Deirdre’s ass to Delia’s sucking mouth, stretched around his fat cock. He sank a little lower into his seat as he forced his hips up, feeding more of his cock to Delia. His jaw dropped slightly as her throat took more of his prick, tighter than ever around it.

“Like what you see, Bats?” Deirdre gave her ass a light slap, making its ripe tightness ripple to show off how curved it was despite her slight frame. “See anything you want to fuck?”

“Fucking tease,” Terry groaned. “Both of you are too afraid to really let me fuck you.”

Deirdre pursed her lips, considering this. Then she climbed up onto the couch, casually stepping on Delia and driving her down to gag on Terry’s prick, before she straddled Terry’s face and lowered herself to his mouth. Her fingers held her labia open as she shoved it in his face.

“Eat my cunt, Bat! Lick me with that naughty tongue of yours, I know you want to.” She ground her sex against his mouth. “Give us a fuck to tell our grandkids about. Mmm, then give us some kids. Bat babies to show off to the tabloids…”

Terry grunted, but he couldn’t resist. With his hands fitfully struggling against their bindings, instinctively trying to grip the trim cheeks of her ass, he dug his tongue deep into her sex and felt out the tender folds inside of her. Deirdre was moaning in seconds, quivering like a flag in the wind, grinding her crotch down hard into his tongue.

“Hell yeah!” Delia said suddenly. She had lifted her mouth off his cock and was now priming it in her hand. “Suck her cunt like that! Eat her hot pussy!”

“It feels so nice!” Deirdre grunted. “If it was anything like this for Nana Harley, she was one lucky bitch!”

“You want to sit on his cock?”

“You want to sit on his face?”

They were talking about him as if he weren’t even there, Terry realized. And in a way, he wasn’t. From all their talk of the old Batman and ‘Nana Harley,’ it was clear their warped minds had come to see him as some kind of second coming of the ‘Batman’ their grandmother had described in such detail. But as long as they kept sucking him, they could do what they liked. 

He watched dazedly as Deirdre came off his face and squatted low over his groin. He saw Delia guide his cock up to her sister’s opening, then climb up to straddle his mouth herself.

“Are you as good a cunt-eater as Deedee says?” she smiled, splaying herself in front of his face. “Or is she just that easy to get off? Because I never have to work that hard at it…”

Delia rocked against his face, fucking herself against his lips until Terry stuck out his tongue and let her impale herself on it. Soon, he gamely set it in motion, licking through Delia’s folds in a symphonic rhythm with her rutting motions. She moaned bracingly as his tongue traveled through her, interrupting her undulating movements with shivers and shakes of pleasure.

“Yes, Bats! Your tongue feels damn good!” she muttered. “I’ve been wanting to do this to you ever since you first showed up!”

Deirdre crouched behind her. She lowered her pussy over the tip of Terry’s member, sinking down lower and lower until she’d taken almost all of his shaft inside. She didn’t pause until she absolutely couldn’t take anymore, stretched to the limit by the sheer heft of his cock buried in her sex.

“I’ve been wanting to do this to you ever since Delia said she wanted to do it,” Deirdre said. She pistoned her body up and down on his prick, taking hold of Delia’s hips for support. Her nubile breasts bounced and jiggled, the nipples popping outward in search of touching fingers or a sucking mouth. With Terry’s mouth occupied by Delia, Deirdre was unable to find them, and she vented her painful need by spanking Delia’s ass as Terry tongued her cunt.

Terry didn’t know which way was up. He was feeling pitches of warmth and pressure as Deirdre bounced up and down on his cock at the same time he tasted, smelled nothing by Delia’s smothering cunt. It was too much. He sucked at Delia as best he could, driving his tongue far up inside her and seeking out her buzzingly erect clit among all her frenzied movements. Her sex was pressed so tightly against his face that he could barely breath, but he still found her clitoris more often than not.

“Batty, you’re going to make me come!” Delia yelped. “Deirdre, Batso is going to make my cunt melt all over his mouth, his fucking mouth!”

“That’s cool,” Deirdre murmured, too dazed from pumping herself up and down on Terry’s manhood to know or care what her annoying little sister was talking about. “Oh God, I think I’m coming—“

The twins were all over Terry as he sat there helplessly, serving only as dildo and tongue for their depraved pleasure. Deirdre bounded up and down in his lap. Delia writhed and cried out at the end of his tongue like she was trying to suffocate him with her juicy sex. Terry just tried to angle his cock so Deirdre would feel him raking against her clit, lash at Delia’s little button with his tongue. He felt like he was drowning in the fine film of sweat that covered their naked bodies.

Then Delia went wild. She clutched the back of his head and held him tight between her thighs like she really did intend to suffocate him there. Her cunt shook against his lips, forcing its juices into his mouth. He had her clit caught between his teeth and he wouldn’t let it go. He sucked it hard, whipping it with his tongue, and Delia fed him more of her orgasmic cream.

“Oh, you fucking vampire! You goddamn bat! I’m coming so good!” she wailed. “Cunt-sucker! Coming all over your cunt-sucking face!”

He stayed with her, grinding her clit gently between his teeth as she came and came. The lower half of his face was drenched with her juices, but he wouldn’t let up. And Deirdre’s slender waist was flexing and bending as she rode him, pumping up and down with a pronounced rhythm that swayed her breasts like a stripper’s.

“Batty baby! Batty baby!” Delia raved, her thighs quivering against his ears. She couldn’t believe her stupid little sister had settled for just a big ol’ prick while she got his tongue. “You eat pussy so good! You eat pussy like a dirty, pussy-eating motherfucker!”

She ground her sex into his face and the sharp hold he had on her clit, her pussy twitching against his mouth. But soon it was too much for her. Her legs buckled. She collapsed against him, then rolled over to fall limply to the couch. She dropped her hand between her legs and started fingering herself, still not having had enough.

Terry gulped in air, looking half-drowned. His face was coated with her juices; they were dripping from his chin. He moaned lowly, as if in pain. Deirdre grabbed hold of his shoulders and tried to meet his eyes with hers, even as they rolled back in her head. As a line of drool ran out of the corner of her mouth, Deirdre forced herself up off his erection to hiss in his ear.

“Fuck me doggy style now, Batty boy. Fuck me from behind with that big cock. And do Delia too; I’ll lie on top of her.

Delia was still sprawled out next to them on the couch. Her eyelids were drooping and her eyes unfocused and she seemed half asleep. But she came awake as her twin sister climbed on top of her. She wrapped her arms around Deirdre’s shoulders and held her.

For a moment, Terry sat there stupidly, his erection spiking up from his groin like a sword that’d been drawn. He watched Deirdre snuggle into Delia, her lovely ass up in the air. Not only could he see Deirdre’s ass and the gaping cunt he’d left her with, but below that was a perfect view of Delia’s sex, split wide and shimmering with his saliva. The sisters were pressing themselves together, their legs apart, giving him two tight pussies to choose from.

If only he weren’t tied up.

“Fuck me, Terry!” Deirdre urged, grabbing her buttocks in her hands and spreading them wide apart. “You can fuck Delia too, whatever you want, however you want!”

“Stick your big cock deep inside me!” Delia agreed. “See how much tighter I am than her!”

And so they just laid there, cuddling together, completely naked, too sadistic to let him enjoy himself even when they were begging for it. The apple really didn’t fall far from the tree. But if fear could make a man ingenious, it was nothing compared to lust, because it was then that Terry thought of the Batarangs loaded into his wrist-mounted launchers.

His wrists were tied too tightly for him to fire a Batarang directly into the chain—not to mention how he didn’t relish the thought of essentially firing a gun with the muzzle blocked up—but the same chain wound around his elbows and midsection to further secure his arms. If he twisted his hands just so, and set the nanofactories in his gauntlets to modify the Batarangs to maximum sharpness, he could fire into those chains across the small of his back and give himself enough slack to rip the chains off altogether.

Or shoot himself in the kidneys.

But then, he had risked his life for some pretty stupid reasons in this line of work. Protecting scum like Paxton Powers, saving villains from deaths that would’ve been their own dumbass fault—this one would at least have a reward.

Angling his wrists, he took the shot, wincing as a Batarang slashed behind him, the wind of its passage felt right through his suit. But it worked. The chains loosened, mostly severed, and with the added leeway, he was able to unwind them some, fire a few more Batarangs into their mass, until he was completely free. Then it was just a matter of bringing his gloved fists down on the cinder blocks he was wearing as shoes. They both exploded like they’d been hit by sledgehammers. 

Deirdre—or Delia, who gave a shit—turned her head to look back at him. “Didn’t you like our makeover?”

Terry knelt behind them, his cock thrusting out from his fist. He brought the head of it to Deirdre’s sex and rammed it deep inside of her, deeper than she’d ever taken it before. She gasped wide-eyed with the sheer extent to which she’d been penetrated. Then he started fucking her, driving his prick as deep as it would go into her body. She was rocked back and forth on top of her whimpering twin.

“Do it to us, Bat!”

“Fuck us both together!”

Between gasps they were kissing, driving their tongues together with the same passion that Deirdre used to thrust herself back against his strokes.

For exactly one minute—Terry made an effort to pay attention to the timer on his AR display—he plunged himself into Deirdre’s cunt. Then he stopped, came away, and slid his cock into Delia instead. She was wet and already practically gaping from how he’d tongued her. He had even less trouble impaling her on his cock. For another minute he fucked into her with deep, steady strokes. 

Then he shoved himself back into Deirdre, running his hands over her ass and along the small of her back, enjoying the feel of her warm flesh, especially when it quivered with his thrusts. Both women were moaning beneath him, their tongues flickering together, only stopping their prolonged kiss to wail and howl the obscenities he made them feel.

“Fuck me deep!”

“No, ram your big cock into me!”

“Do it to me!”

“Fuck my—“

“—our—“

“—hot—“

“Cunts!”

Terry felt sure he did. He rammed himself into Deirdre, then gave himself to Delia just as her twin was begging for mercy. Then, when Deirdre had started to recover, he lunged back into her. It was the wildest sex he’d ever had; he still couldn’t believe it was happening. But he just kept going. He fucked them for almost half an hour before his balls were clutching too hard to ignore.

“Enough. I’m going to come,” he finally groaned. 

He pulled his prick free of Deirdre and pumped it furiously in his fist. He knew how competitive they would be over who got his cum, and him choosing neither of them would drive them crazy. Crazier. A fitting comeuppance for tying him the fuck up.

“Yes!”

“Yes!”

“Cum all over us!”

“Spurt your hot cum all over our bodies!”

“Splatter us with semen!”

“Cover us with—“

A loud groan shot from Terry’s mouth. His fist was a blur on his cock as white jets shot from the tip. It splashed over Deirdre’s ass and ran down in waves over her gaping sex. Silver bullets fired down onto Delia too, soaking her pussy before cascading down the crack of her ass. Terry was waving his cock over both of them, determined to cover the entire family with his seed.

“Spunk on us!”

“Hose us down!”

“Make us wear your cum!”

“We want to bathe in it!”

“I want to smell you on Deirdre’s cunt!”

“I want to taste you in Delia’s ass!”

The milky throws kept coming out of him. Semen shot into Delia’s hair and the small of Deirdre’s back and down her parted thighs. Ropes of it dripped over her cunt, connecting it with Delia’s sex. As the pulsing ejaculations grew weaker, Terry moved closer. He milked his cock with his fist, forcing more pumps of semen down onto the kissing twins, turning their liplock into a set of two tongues licking away each other’s faceful of his seed. When he was done, it looked like they’d been tied up with the strands of cum that were draped over them. Looks weren’t deceiving in this case; they certainly couldn’t move at this point.

Terry zipped himself up, then ripped a section of peeling wallpaper from the side of the room. Using a small heat jet in the finger of his glove, he wrote an address down, then dropped the makeshift note onto them. It stuck to the cum on Deirdre’s ass. He gave it, and her, a slap to make sure it would stay put.

“Stay out of trouble and go there in one week. If you come alone, I’ll know that I can trust you. Bring any friends and I’ll turn over my cowl footage of your ‘extracurricular activities’ to the cops.”

“You’d show them our sex tape?” Delia asked, voice hoarse.

Deirdre moved slightly, as if trying to build up the momentum to hit her sister, but she couldn’t overcome just how fucked out she was. “You idiot,” she muttered instead. “He means robbing the jewelry store.” Another weak movement failed to turn her to face Terry. “What happens if we show up, Batman?”

“Then we’ll see how this party goes when no one is tied up.”

“No one?” Delia asked tremblingly.

With a grunt, Terry drew a bolo from his belt and showed it to them. From their wide eyes, it seemed to garner their approval. When he left, they were both trying to move without much success.

But now that he’d cleared his head and gotten out of that pickle, Terry had slightly more important things on his mind than round two. First and foremost being—what the hell had they been talking about?