Healing Cock

Dear Barbara,

It’s worth a shot.

Wendy.

Barbara looked at the note, wondering if Proxy had any idea how many times she’d gotten similar ‘help.’ ‘Can’t hurt to ask,’ only it did hurt. No matter how hard she tried not to get her hopes up, it seemed like even considering the possibility had her remembering walking all over again—and remembering that she never would again.

She’d never say it out loud, but she didn’t want to be like Cyborg, chiseling away parts of her body just so she could keep punching people. Her legs might not have worked, but they were hers. And she knew enough about Gotham magic to not want to put herself in that world. No matter how benevolent the spellcaster might have been, there were things in the city whose radar Barbara didn’t want to be on.

And still she enjoyed the hope, in her own sick way.

Barbara picked up the file folder the note had been attached to, paging through it. It only had to pan out once, after all.

She read up on the procedure in one sitting—she did everything in one sitting now—and by the next time she saw Wendy, she had hacked the company’s servers to check out every facet of it, whether they wanted it made public or not.

“So?” Wendy asked, with the unbearably hopeful zealousness of someone who was expecting to be cured any moment, someone who thought this was all just a subplot in the story of their lives, not something that would stick until the final chapter. “What do you think?”

“It looks promising,” Barbara said, hating that she had to admit it and give Wendy still more treacherous hope. “And it all seems pretty aboveboard. They have an alien xenoform whose antibodies adapt to any host and regrow tissue, including the nerves in the spinal cord. Hardly the sort of thing that ends up with someone going on a rampage, fighting Superman.”

“I know, right?” Wendy drank her coffee. Almost the only reason Barbara had agreed to see her was to get her out of the house, otherwise she would’ve tried to throw more rocks at this start-up company. “The more the nerves are stimulated, the more the antibodies learn your system, the more you heal. It’s like a Zen thing. Sexual healing.”

“Yeah, but it’s a boy alien,” Barbara pointed out. “You know what else the antibodies ‘regrow’—because clearly it’s more important than being able to walk?”

“Yeah, yeah, you grow a dick,” Wendy said dismissively. “But they’ve figured that out, there’s a treatment that clears it up once the regeneration is done. And honestly, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have one. If being able to stand means I stand when I pee, even for a year, I’ll take it. I can’t just give up—“

“It’s not giving up to face reality,” Barbara stressed.

“And what’s that?” Wendy asked. “Reality? Giant monsters? Killer robots? Time travel? People coming back from the dead? Wouldn’t you put up with some weird transgender stuff if it meant you could walk again?”

“Sounds like a real deal with the devil,” Barbara said. “And you sound like you’re justifying way more than you’re arguing.”

“I’ve set an appointment for next week.”

Barbara sighed, and wondered what she would’ve said to make herself face facts, months after having the yellow high heels and open-backed cowl hung up for her. Then she realized there was nothing to say. Not taking no for an answer didn’t stop even when no was the only answer.

“At least let me do it first,” Barbara said. “I’m better equipped to handle it.”

***

“A dick?” Dinah demanded. 

“Who told you—“ Barbara started to turn, throwing her chair precariously off-balance, before she grabbed the rims and maneuvered her lower body more firmly inside her desk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please, you think Ollie could bear to phone up his ex’s lesbian lover when he needs hacking done? He has this blonde who wears glasses just as well as you do, and she says that the side effects of your little miracle—“

“Would you keep your voice down?” Barbara asked her, though in the soundproofed inner sanctum of Delphi, it hardly mattered. The place just had a restive atmosphere that Barbara found calming, but she’d have a hard time getting back into the aesthetic if she started associating it with Dinah grilling her on phallic matters.

“Hey, I’m not judging, I just—a dick…” Dinah perched herself on Barbara’s desk—she’d done that so often that Barbara had set up a designated area for Dinah’s ass in her setup. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? I have been known to visit the general vicinity…”

“Oh, I think we can forget about that for a while.”

“Why, does it hang to the left or something? Does it smell?”

“No, you’re just a prat.” Barbara typed fixedly. “And honestly, who is this woman who wears glasses just as good as me, I splurge on my glasses, these cost four hundred dollars.”

“Yeah, and you have a dick. Don’t change the subject.” Dinah swung her legs about merrily. “Can I see it?”

“What? No! Why would you want to see me with a dick? Don’t you think that might be a bit of a scaring mental image? At the very least, a fashion faux pas?”

“Yeah, but I’m kinda curious what yours would be like. I mean, if you had one. Do you have a big black cock? D’ya?”

“Dinah, why would I—I am a redhead. How many redheads do you think suddenly become African-American?”

“I don’t know, Wally was looking a little tan last time I saw him. C’mon, I’m your best friend!” Dinah protested. “If I had a dick, I would show you.”

“One of many intimacy issues in our partnership.”

“You’re just saying that because I wear fishnets around the house.”

“Even Helena puts on sweatpants.”

“Helena has thunder thighs. You can tell her I said so. Now let me see…” Dinah reached down to Barbara’s pants. She slid one knuckle under the waistband and pulled, drawing the front of her pants out away from her body. 

“Hey, quit it!” Barbara cried, wiggling her hips in an escape attempt, but that just managed to throw her cock up to her waistband, the head resting against her belt. Dinah’s eyes widened as she saw the cockhead like a churchbell, her surprise growing as she followed the thick length of the shaft down and down and down to Barbara’s groin, where two fisted testes laid under the base of her cock with throbbing potency.

And as the Black Canary flushed, Barbara’s erection just kept growing, the swollen glans overshooting her waistband and raising up parallel to her belly, the stalk as tall and as girthy as any pillar. It seemed far too much to fit into the modest bulge Dinah had noticed earlier, but then—Dinah looked proudly down at her own hearty endowments, which were actually given a presentation of modesty within her restrictive costume—she was one to talk.

“Wanna see,” Dinah moaned, now taking hold of the waistband with both hands and drawing it down to mid-thigh, letting Barbara’s cock flop out into open air—not that it flopped much, as it was far too erect for that. Instead, it drooped only slightly, coming to a stationary, upthrust angle that made Dinah think of artillery pieces ready to fire—the silvery spool of precum trailing down its underside and bubbling out of the slit showing just how well-loaded it was. “Oh wow. That has to count as a superpower.”

“If it were, I would use it on you!” Barbara said hastily, now scrambling to pull her blouse down over the erection. It took her a moment to realize what she’d said, and then her glasses virtually fogged up. “I, I mean—“

Dinah hopped down from the desk, drawing herself up to her full statuesque height, her fishnet-clad legs at their highest extension. Barbara’s strenuous attempts to cover herself with the hem of her top had pulled a fold along the shoulder of the garment, and Dinah toyed with it as she towered over her friend cum boss cum lover. 

“You mean that you’ve been waving around your captain’s chair seating, leet hacker skills, and general big brainedness around like a monster dick anyway, so why not do the same now that you have the literal inches to back it up?” Dinah smiled as she pulled at the fold in the fabric, tugging the hem of Barbara’s blouse up from its censoring position. “Don’t fret. I like that about you. All you Bats—you’re such fucking tops.”

“Oh, don’t start…”

“What? We’ve been friends with benefits since before we were more than friends. And now I hear that a little friendly tug helps the healing process—I mean, when hasn’t it?—but if you getting off actually gets your toes so much as wiggling…”

“I can handle it myself,” Barbara said firmly, though the straining erection pushing at her covering blouse didn’t seem to be aimed at her.

“Ha! No offense, Babs, but when was the last time you handled one? Dick? Why don’t you put yourself in the hands of an expert? Even if you can’t walk by the time I’m finished, I guarantee I’ll make you feel better.”

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Helena demanded, coming in so fast and furious that it was just possible she didn’t notice Dinah hastily backing away from Barbara, or Barbara wheeling herself back under the desk—or even the resounding thump as the erection she’d held down rose up against the bottom of her desk. “I know you dykes have to have your heart-to-hearts, but Batman has his own link to my headset and he’s been growling for the last five minutes about why you’re off comms when there’s a Justice League emergency.”

“Right, I was just—“ Barbara looked at her monitor to see that she had disabled the Watchtower relay, as she tended to do on the rare occasions when things with Dinah got hot and heavy while she was on-call. Giving the two of them some privacy had become rote with her—but usually, she at least checked that there weren’t any crises brewing or teams going into action. I have a dick for one day and already I’m thinking with it… 

“Hard at work,” Dinah finished for her, as Barbara had delved into the ongoing flashpoint so determinedly that she’d forgotten to reply to Helena’s question.

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure Batman was about to accuse me of murdering you,” Helena said, “so please, next time, pull this shit while I have an alibi.”

***

Barbara’s commitment to her work was so intense that Dinah and Helena just had to flee, unwilling to distract her even a little. Turning on CNN outside the computer room revealed that it was just a relief effort she was coordinating after the Aswan Dam broke. Dinah could sympathize. She thought she’d detected a hint of despondency in Barbara, experimenting with free, unfettered sexuality after so many years of having to fit it into rigid confines, only for her duty to restrict her more than her paralysis ever could.

After a few minutes of fuming over the unfairness of it all, Dinah decided she wasn’t going to let Barbara off so easily. She knew Babs. The redhead would put off and put off this treatment, afraid of investing too much hope into it, until she sabotaged it for herself, literally cutting her own balls off—then, in her sadomasochistic Gotham way, she’d congratulate herself for being rightly cynical.

Barbara owed herself better than that. Dinah owed her better than that. Barbara might not’ve been the most low-maintenance girlfriend in the world, but she was a good friend and a better lay. What more could you ask for in anyone crazy enough to be in this racket? She’d been one happy camper for the past few years, and that was largely thanks to Barbara. If that meant it was time for Dinah to swing around the proverbial, yet literal, dick on her account… fine.

Dinah edged to the door to the Delphi chamber and watched though the open door. Barbara had called upon Helena to bring her some water, for some manipulative reason like deferring suspicion or making her feel useful, and the Italian was still there, watching as Barbara called the shots like she was directing a disaster movie.

Helena clearly found it fascinating, but not so fascinating that she missed Dinah and the fiendish smile on the blonde’s face. She wrinkled her brow, wondering what Dinah was doing when the Black Canary had far less interest in Barbara’s work than she did—experience having cured Dinah of any fascination with telling superheroes how high to jump. Now that she’d served as JLA chairwoman, she appreciated that it wasn’t herding cats so much as trusting ‘subordinates’ like Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman to keep everyone sticking to whatever play they were making. 

Speaking of sticking to the play—Dinah pressed a finger to her lips, asking for silence from Helena. And speaking of cats. She dropped onto her hands and knees to crawl into the room, ensuring that she couldn’t be seen on the livefeed of Barbara’s face that allowed a few hearing-impaired Leaguers to read her lips.

Barbara couldn’t see either, which was partially why Dinah was having so much fun. Not that she didn’t usually enjoy herself when she got down on all fours.

Dinah stopped when she was kneeling under Barbara’s desk, just inches from her groin. She hadn’t found time to stuff all that back into her pants, and had probably forgotten all about it. As deftly as a pickpocket, Dinah moved the hanging blouse and snagged waistband out of the way. Judging by the prick’s slow deflation, Barbara had no idea what was happening.

Then she found out. Dinah took hold of the member and lifted it to her lips. She kissed it, and felt a tiny stir go through its limpness like reverberations going through a plucked piano string—though even flaccid, it was nowhere near that thin. Especially after it started to rise. Soon, it was half-hard and thick enough around to fill Dinah’s palm.

It wasn’t quite the weapon it had been when Dinah uncaged it before—a state Dinah now fondly realized had been due to her proximity and… sterling conversational skills. But it was on its way. Dinah decided to help it along. She wouldn’t be licking and kissing it like she was on a second date and her boy had paid for dinner, oh no. She stuffed the head into her mouth and sucked it like it was her man’s birthday, already planning to swallow like he’d bought her jewelry.

Barbara moaned and almost knocked her keyboard off the desk. “Sorry!” she said quickly. “I… just had a cramp.”

“Some stiffness coming on?” Helena asked, eyebrow raised.

“Focus, Oracle,” Dinah heard Batman’s gruff tone come over the computer’s speakers.

“Yes… let’s get back to work,” Barbara said, as much to herself as to Dinah.

Dinah immediately gave Barbara’s cock all the affection it could take. The member stiffened instantly, standing so proud and tall it nearly overturned the desk. Dinah stared at it with pride, not sure if she was more impressed with herself for causing an erection that big or with Barbara for possessing such a huge dick.

The purple knob ending her shaft pulsed with the desire Dinah had filled it with, each flexing throb visible by the gleam off the saliva Dinah had covered it with. Digging into Barbara’s pants, Dinah pulled her roiling balls out into the open. She kissed and licked them as much as she was Barbara’s cock, slurping her way up one ball and one side of Barbara’s length. At the top, she paused for a moment to suckle at the glans and savor the taste of precum. Then she went back down the other side to see how swollen she’d made the other testicle.

Barbara was tightly gripping the armrests of her chair, even as she kept barking out orders. Dinah knew what passions had to be ripping through her. She’d aroused Barbara this much before. It just hadn’t been so… tangible.

But Barbara wouldn’t be able to say a single word about it. She couldn’t even let it show on her face, how much she loved the feel of Dinah’s soft, wet lips on her prick. Something about the voice of the superheroes, Mission Control for the gods of a manmade Olympus, having to just sit there and take it as Dinah blew her—well, how could a girl not be turned on?

She sucked in a mouthful of bloated balls, feeling the cum inside tumbling and lurching against her tongue. It wouldn’t be long before she got her taste, but already she could detect their musk in the sweat she was lapping up. It was distinctly masculine, but cut with the sweet femininity she recognized from Barbara’s sex. How’s that for butch?

“Good, very good,” Barbara said in a low, choked voice. Dinah doubted she was referring to the flooding.

Knowing that she was pleasing Barbara spurred Dinah on. The usually unflappable Oracle might’ve been able to get her pussy licked while domming the hell out of the one, or more, heroines going down on her, but she had much less idea what to do with a dick. And Dinah had all kinds of ideas, now that Barbara was on the receiving end and couldn’t do a damned thing except feed her.

Dinah loved the feeling of power so much that her pussy began churning, dampening as if to prepare itself for that fat cock going somewhere else… But no, she’d have to be content with a suck and swallow. Even if it wasn’t anything like feeling a big prick pump inside her, going balls deep into her cunt, and coming so big and hard that she’d feel drops of it inside her for days after.

The thick, musky taste of precum coated her tongue as that ejaculation would’ve done her mouth. She burrowed her nose into Barbara’s ginger pubic hair and smelled the arousal. As much as she tried to be stoic, everything about Barbara signaled that she was getting off on this harder than Dinah was. Another advantage to suddenly having a lover with ten inches of prick attached.

She wondered how many of those hard inches were because Barbara was on the job, speaking to the Justice League, even as Dinah gave her a blowjob with her Canary Cry throat.

“I like the way this is going,” Barbara said, gritting how each word. “I really like it.”

From the nonplussed reactions of the Leaguers, they thought she was commenting on something on their end. Dinah had to give it to Barbara; she could multitask with anything.

Dinah rose up until her head was over Barbara’s lap, almost in the camera’s line of sight if Barbara’s worried glances downward were any indication. It was all so that she could better take Barbara’s erection into her mouth. She was really going to suck Barbara this time. Suck her all the way down.

Dinah’s head bobbed up and down, scattering her rich golden hair over Barbara’s lower belly and upper thighs. She still didn’t think she was ready for the big plunge down to the root of Barbara’s cock, but she’d just have to force herself to take it. Her lust to have Barbara stretching out her throat had grown too strong.

Pursing her lips in a tight ring under Barbara’s cockhead, she sucked. Barbara’s lips pressed tightly together as she tried to contain herself. Dinah’s head moved a little lower, taking more of the cock into her hot, humid mouth—then into the narrow opening of the throat it could barely fit into. She gagged, and paused, but didn’t let up, instead using her tongue to roughly cradle Barbara’s member. It stimulated the sensitive underside of the prick, as well as the throbbing veins, and with how hard the blood was pounding inside that swollen member, it was no surprise when the engorged glans bounced off the roof of Dinah’s mouth and forced their way down her throat.

Dinah swallowed hard, over and over again, gulping all of Barbara’s cock down. Her airway was blocked off by the immense impalement of her throat, but she held her breath, savoring the throbbing of Barbara’s member all the way down her throat until she was turning purple. Then she gagged her way off it, not stopping until she’d dislodged all but the thick, purple cockhead. Around it, she sucked in a few gusty, sobbing breaths. It was good to have air heaving into her again—but it was hardly as important as having that lovely prick buried in her tonsils.

Dinah decided she was going to fuck herself on that cock, fuck her face on its mass the way she desperately wished she could fuck her pussy. Her lips narrowed on the huge shaft and then she plowed her face down to Barbara’s crotch. She didn’t get all the way there, but she didn’t think that was physically possible. All she could do was keep dancing over Barbara’s length, her tongue lapping up all the tasty precum she cajoled from it.

“Almost there,” Barbara reeled out. “Just keep pushing!”

As if she were following Oracle’s orders out in the field, Dinah really started driving her head down on Barbara’s prick. It didn’t feel like she was submitting to Barbara, even as she tried harder and harder to please her. She knew Barbara was being driven wild with nervousness, squirming as she had to hold back-a fitting punishment for the master manipulator, having Dinah hold power over her, not being able to escape, and not being able to breathe a word of it to all the people following her every command.

Then there was the length of Barbara’s prick in her sucking mouth, making Babs her prisoner as long as Dinah’s lips were curled around that turgid length. Barbara was ready to come, but she couldn’t. Not if Dinah didn’t let her. That made Barbara—and her cock—Dinah’s slave, even as that same prick spread her lips wide open and drove to the back of her mouth.

Dinah didn’t allow Barbara to go all the way to the hilt this time. Her tongue controlled Babs perfectly. She used that wet, lashing whip to make certain Barbara didn’t choke her. She was more than willing to swallow Babs whole, but only when she was willing to, not at Barbara’s convenience.

Her pink tongue swirled furiously up the underside of Barbara’s prick, then drove mercilessly into the tip. It wasn’t possible for it to even begin to penetrate the tiny hole there, but trying gave both of them a sensuous thrill—especially when it provoked a fresh dollop of precum for Dinah to taste. Her mouth kept churning on Barbara’s elongated length until one woman was breathing as heavily as the other. Dinah’s nostrils flared with hot exhaust that stirred Barbara’s pubic hair, while Barbara’s whisking, panting breaths gave away the passion her mask-like stoicism would not show.

Then Barbara’s lips tightly sealed, her nostrils falling still, and Dinah felt her cock give a tell-tale jerk. Dinah’s tongue flashed to the tip, and the bitter drop of precum she was once more blessed with tasting. Even better was to come—a torrent of creamy white seed.

Sucking with all her might, Dinah felt Barbara’s cock swell until she could barely breathe, her lips stretched to the breaking point. She hadn’t thought it was possible, but if anyone was going to have the biggest prick in Gotham, she supposed it would be Barbara Gordon. And if anyone was going to get the fountain of pearly semen that blasted out of it, it would be Dinah Lance.

She pressed her tongue over the tip of Barbara’s shooting cock, not that her tongue was able to withstand the immense force of Barbara’s ejaculation. It was flattened to the bottom of Dinah’s mouth and piled high with seed, the salty taste thrilling Dinah as it filled her mouth. She was responsible for this deluge. She had sucked Barbara until the controller lost control. And Dinah savored each drop of that lost control as she swallowed and swallowed and swallowed.

Gallons of cum passed through her lips. She gulped down a mouthful, and another mouthful, and another. Finally—when her belly felt like it would burst at the seams—it was over. No more came from Barbara’s semi-hard cock, no matter how hard Dinah sucked. She had milked those weighty balls dry of their contents.

And already she wanted more.