Gotham Among Other Gods update

Dinah Lance stood looking at herself in the mirror, wearing nothing at all. Soon she would be wearing white. Soon she would be Dinah Lance-Wayne. But now she wanted to examine the body that Bruce would be seeing tonight.

She was more than satisfied with it. There were no wrinkles or blemishes, and the little triangle of tight brown curls that overlaid her mons promised tightness. It was impossible for a man to ask for more of a woman of thirty.

She figured Bruce wouldn’t be disappointed. He certainly never had been before, and if he was planning on it, he wouldn’t have asked her to marry him. But marriage did strange things to relationships. She had more than a few friends who despaired of their love lives, even after marrying the most eligible bachelors imaginable. 

What if Bruce became that way? The sex dull and repetitive, him spurring her having on some subconscious level claimed ownership? The months since she’d permanently broken things off with Ollie had been rough on her. They’d had sex two or more times a day, and now she needed a steady diet. Then, the nothing of being separated from him. She’d try to grow used to it. A few times, when she couldn’t take the longing she was resolved to stop feeling, she’d brought men home. That was rarely satisfying. She needed more than the odd and unreliable one-night stand. She needed sex like she needed a man: dependable, consistent, and thrilling as often as possible.

Dinah sighed heavily. She could feel a hot wetness between her legs, only aggravated by how she was rubbing her thighs together. She knew herself well enough to know that she needed a man; she was the kind of girl who thrived on being taken care of and looked after. Probably the reason she’d gotten along so well with Barbara. So was Bruce the man to take care of her?

Stupid question, she thought. Even if he wasn’t, no one else had even come close to satisfying her as well as he had. So why not give the number one contender a shot at the title?

Dinah resolved to stop thinking about it. She was doing just that, in about the most conclusive way possible. In half an hour, she’d be marrying Bruce, and then there was no going back. Hell, there was no going back now. Sometime during her internal monologue, she’d slipped into her wedding dress.

There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Dinah said, and the door swung open. For a moment, Dinah had thought it was Bruce, showing his usual respect for convention by coming to see the bride before the ceremony, but to her relief, it wasn’t. Sin, her adopted daughter, stepped into the room instead. 

She hoped this would be the last time she was happy not to see Bruce.

“Hi, mom,” Sin said. “Do you need any help getting ready?”

Dinah felt a wave of love for her daughter. Sin was half a child, half a woman, boyishly slim but with every indication in her fine hair and delicately formed face of growing into a beautiful young lady. “You can help me do my hair,” Dinah said.

Sitting down at her dresser, Dinah held herself still for Sin to take up a brush and use it on her long, gleaming blonde hair.

“You look so pretty, Mommy,” Sin said earnestly.

“Thank you, Sin,” Dinah said, knowing Bruce would find her that way too. If their sex life suffered from the marriage, it wouldn’t be for lack of trying on his important. And even if it did, at least Bruce would be a good father for Sin.

***

Bruce looked over his chosen response team: Batwoman, Batgirl, Blue Lightning, Wildcat, Black Bat, and Nightwing. His eyes scrutinized them for signs of excessive stress or fatigue. He couldn’t find any. The reinforcements had come in well-rested and ready to fight, while those ‘first-responders’ he’d kept on instead of relieving were holding up well despite the strain they’d be under. This would be a good team for whatever the crisis threw at them next.

Although even with his preparedness, he wasn’t expecting quite what came

Dinah ran up to them, the usually appealing sight of her voluptuous body in motion ruined by the look of panic on her face. “Bruce, it’s the manor. I’ve been calling there to check up on Sam, but no one’s answering—“

Bruce was instantly alert. “The Batmobile’s parked nearby. We’ll go there now.”

***

Walking on top of the plush carpeting of the manor in the heavy boots of the Batsuit, Bruce felt oddly like an intruder. This was a domestic space, meant for wives, children, and the family he’d made, not the duty and obligation of Batman. But those two worlds could hardly stay separate. 

The staff were either knocked out or tied up. Sam’s nursery was empty. The Court of Owls had left a note. They wanted a Golden Apple. The note didn’t specify what would happen to Sam if they didn’t give it to them. Bruce supposed writing that down would just be too unseemly for them. 

He contacted Zatanna.

***

The Court of Owls was, at the moment, hiding out in an abandoned carnival outside of town. Bruce supposed thematically appropriate hideouts were a luxury these days, and even the Court had to make do with what they could find. He walked through the overgrown ruins of the parkgrounds, sawdust being stirred around by the wind, the smell of oversweetened candy and old zoo dander lingering in the air. It wasn’t long until he heard a voice hail him.

“Batman. You have brought us our prize?” 

Reaching into a pocket in his cape, Bruce brought out the apple and held it high above his head, where its gold could catch the setting sun’s light. 

Shadows flittered between those Bruce had already noticed, crowding out the landscape from behind wagons and rotting exhibitions. He felt their eyes on him more than he detected them with his senses.

“The boy,” Bruce said fiercely, impatience creeping into his voice. “I see him before we make the trade.”

Shadows rustled. He saw a basket on the ground, its appearance having evaded even his eyes, and inside the baby kicked and gurgled.

“Set down the apple where you stand. Approach the child with it in your possession and you’ll be cut down where you stand.”

Bruce dropped the apple to the ground and walked, step by painstaking step, to where Sam had been left. For a bare moment, he examined the basket for traps, then picked it up, cradling the baby in his arms. 

“We’re surprised at you,” the voice—voices?—said. “No precautions taken against a double-cross?”

Bruce turned and walked away, not hurrying, but not tarrying either. 

The golden apple was nothing of the sort; a massively detailed fake generated by Zatanna, with so much magical energy put into it that it would scan as the real thing to a casual inspection. He didn’t know if the Talons subjected it to scrutiny intense enough to figure out it was fake, or if they just figured that it was a deception from how easily he had parted with it.

“Take him!”

Bruce pressed the stud on his belt.

He didn’t generally use the League’s teleportation technology. It was flashy, but unreliable and monotone. A multitude of options was far more adaptable, and tangible. The sight of the Batmobile or Batwing was real and inspired fear in a way that more mystical means couldn’t. But most of all, not using it made others assume he couldn’t use it, that there was some psychological aversion to it in his DNA. So when he did use it, it was very unexpected.

Batwoman, Batgirl, Blue Lightning, Wildcat, Black Bat, and Nightwing suddenly appeared in the midst of the fairground, hitting the ground running as they acquired targets and went on the attack. Batgirl ran to Bruce, as he’d ordered her to earlier. He handed Sam to her and Stephanie gave him a reassuring smile before she triggered the teleporter to bring her back up to the Watchtower.

Then Bruce turned and, with his worry done with and rationality no longer needed, he let his rage tear his way out of him and into flying fists and battering kicks.

***

Bruce and Dinah were married in a brief ceremony at Happy Harbor’s city hall. They left Sin with another of Bruce’s wives and set off for their honeymoon at the abandoned headquarters where they had first met. Alone with Bruce in the sports car he expertly maneuvered closer and closer to their destination, Dinah felt her nerves acting up again.

Her financial future was assured. She’d never have to work again. And Sin would have a great father. But would their sex life retain the pleasing spark it’d had as Bruce enacted his taboo seduction of her, or would it become boring and routine?

She’d know soon enough.

Bruce glanced over at her. “You’re awfully quiet,” he said. “If you’re having second thoughts, I can look for a divorce lawyer at the next exit.”

Dinah laughed. “Not on your life! No, it’s not much of anything, really. It’s just that we really haven’t known each other very long.”

“I’ve known you as Black Canary. You’ve known me as Batman.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It is. Everything else is details. I know you’d sacrifice your life for what you believe in. You know the same about me. What else could matter more than that?”

Dinah was hard-pressed to argue with that. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, just starting to shadow over with stubble. “You’re right, darling,” she said. “I’m being silly.”

Of course, she couldn’t spell out what was actually bothering her. How did you ask a man if he was actually good in bed or if the two of you were just in the right place at the right time.

It’ll be alright, she told herself, it’ll be just as good as before. But even in her own head, she heard the nervousness.

They reached the cave just as the sun was going down, carrying their sparse luggage to a spacious room with a kitchenette, a fireplace, and a king-sized bed. The ‘guest room’ had been meant to provide a sanctuary in case one of the Leaguers was ever outed. If someone’s identity was compromised, he or she could stay in the comfortably appointed room indefinitely. Imagine, at the time, thinking that one day it would be a honeymoon suite!

After changing into a considerably more comfortable blouse and skirt, Dinah came out to find that Bruce had taken off his jacket and shoes. The sight of him in his tuxedo shirt and stocking feet didn’t do anything to make him look less than impeccably dressed.

Dinah looked nervously at the bed. “Do you want something to eat before—“ she started stammering. “I’m a bit eager to practice my homemaking skills!”

“Let’s just have a glass of champagne,” Bruce said, his dark blue eyes undressing her so effectively Dinah could’ve sworn she felt a gush of wind against her bare skin.

“I suppose that is the thing to drink when you marry rich.”

He opened the bottle and poured for each of them. Dinah gulped hers down like it was a shot and held out her glass for more. Maybe champagne on an empty stomach would cure her jitters. It was ridiculous; Bruce and she hadn’t been shy over the course of the engagement. But it felt so much more real now with a ring on her finger.

“What was that old saying about blondes and getting drunk?” Bruce asked her, reaching out to gently fondle a large, soft breast inside her top.

“I wouldn’t know,” Dinah said, blushing. “I’m a brunette.”

Bruce’s voice got husky. “You don’t fuck like one,” he said, and Dinah felt like her flushed cheeks were now on fire. Then she felt a giggle welling up inside her, the champagne and her empty stomach making her lightheaded.

“You know,” she said conversationally, through her little titters. “Just about every time I saw you in this goddamn haunted house, I thought about fucking you then and there.”

“In the meeting room?” Bruce asked, reaching out to take her empty wineglass from her. Dinah didn’t try to get it back.

“Oh, God, yes. Right on top of the table.”

Bruce set down the wineglass beside the bottle. “The trophy room?”

“There were so many times I almost made a play for you. It would’ve been the perfect place. Imagine the time we could’ve saved if I’d managed to get you alone there…”

“The gym?” Bruce asked, putting the cork back in.

Dinah smiled lopsidedly. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“There’s no rush to get to the bed, is there? I want to show you something first.”

***

On Paradise Island, Dinah was watching Sam sleep. Bruce came up beside her. His armor was damaged, the flesh underneath bruised and bloodied, but his relief at having his family safe bloomed out of him, making him carry himself like a picture of health.

Dinah took his hand and held it tightly. “Do you ever regret it?”

“He’ll be under constant guard. And if you don’t believe the Amazons know how to safeguard a child…”

“Not that,” Dinah said. “You used to be so uptight you couldn’t let anyone into your life without making them a black belt in karate. Now you have a baby. And you almost lost him.” She sighed. “I nearly find myself regretting it. We can talk about the greater good and love and happiness, but… sometimes I understand you all too well. You cut yourself off from everyone and made yourself a stone. Even when everything’s okay, feeling like this…”

“It’s worth it for the times you feel differently,” Bruce said, giving her hand a squeeze. “They got away with the apple facsimile. At its core, it’s an elaborate tracking spell. If they knew it was a fake, they would’ve ditched it, worrying I did exactly what I did with it. We can assume they’re taking it to the same place they have their real apple. Once we find that, we’ll hit it. I trust you’ll want to come along.”

“I wanted to come along the first time,” Dinah said. “But two vindictive parents is probably too much for a warzone. Do you remember our wedding?”

“I have a photographic memory.”

“And do you remember where Sam was conceived?”

“Gymnasium, the old Justice League headquarters in Happy Harbor.”

“Mmm,” Dinah nodded. “He was born because we chose to move beyond our pasts and begin something new together. He literally is what we made together that night. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him.” Then: “The gymnasium? You’re sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

***

Dinah ran to the uneven bars and swung up them effortlessly, her skirt flipping up provocatively to show off her perfectly rounded ass, with just a peek of her soft pubic curls underneath. As Bruce watched, unbuttoning his shirt, Dinah executed a swinging leap to the lower bar, flashing her pussy at him again. By the time he was shrugging his shirt off, Dinah went into her dismount, ending up facing him in a front split, exposing her pretty cunt for his inspection.

Bruce ogled her eagerly as he undressed himself, unveiling his chiseled body and growing arousal to her delighted eyes. His own ran back and forth from her thrusting cleavage to the neat little triangle of her pubic hair. He took in her tall, lush figure greedily as she stripped it bare for him.

“I’m one hell of a lucky guy,” he said.

She glanced down at his erection. That, at least, hadn’t changed since the engagement. “You said it.”

He drew her down to the floor mat, his hands only touching her warm and silky breasts, caressing them even as the force he exerted on them made Dinah lower herself down. As he molded his hands to them, his thumbs rubbed over her nipples, coaxing the soft little nubs into hardness, sending little shivers of pleasure and delighted stings through her cleavage. 

As he lowered himself over her, Dinah ran her hands up and down his hard, scarred body. The champagne had gotten to her, though thankfully not throwing off the reflexes she’d displayed in her little performance, and she found herself surprisingly relaxed. Bruce’s touch was expert, light but arousing, and Dinah felt herself growing aroused. 

“I wanted to do that for so long… wait until you were training yourself and then see if you’d notice…”

“I noticed,” Bruce said. “I’d notice you in a parka, much less fishnets.”

Dinah laughed. “I suppose that’s the trouble with dressing like a pin-up model. When you really want to show off for someone, how can they tell?”

“Somehow, I think you’d find a way to be noticed.” Bruce looked her over. “I always wondered if your breasts were real…”

“Excuse me?”

“Blonde wig,” Bruce reasoned. “And a beautiful woman with a face as good as yours, and a metahumans power, and a black belt? It seemed a little too good to be true.”

Dinah pretended to pout. “Well, how do you like that? I wondered about you too, you know.”

“Oh?” Bruce grinned. “What did you wonder about?”

Dinah slipped her hand down to his crotch and gently rubbed at his hardening manhood. “Whether you were compensating for something.”

“Uh-huh,” Bruce said, his smile widening. “And now what do you think?”

Dinah looked down at the big rosy muscle that throbbed powerfully in her hand. “I think you’re compensating for something,” she said. “But not this…”

Bruce quivered lustfully as she gave him a squeeze. His cock began to twitch inside her fingers, and as Dinah’s eyes widened, she saw it grow even more tautly engorged. He’d only been half-hard before, not even fully aroused. Dinah watched his cock hungrily, saw it grow long and hard and thick, the dark red glans as threatening as a bunched fist. Christ, he was a good ten inches long, a dream cock. She prayed he hadn’t forgotten how to use it…

His rising erection pushed her hand upward, the big knob nuzzling her palm. Dinah felt a drop of precum coming out of the dark slit at the top, wetting her hand. She smeared it over his cockhead, feeling the full throbbing erection of his masculinity.

Bruce sighed loudly. “It’s good that we’re on our honeymoon,” he said hoarsely, “you’re not going to be walking until we leave here.”

“God, I hope so.”

Snuggling down lower on the floor mat, as if she were wrestling him, Dinah stuck out her little pink tongue to Bruce’s manhood. Mischievously, lightly, she lapped at the big purple head of Bruce’s dick. Not only did it turn her on, but it bought her a little more time to quell her anxieties. Once he started fucking her, it would set the tone for the rest of their marriage. Dinah couldn’t make herself hurry to find out what that tone would be.

“That’s good,” Bruce groaned out, “that’s real nice…”

Dinah licked in feathery little strokes up and down the long hard shaft of his manhood, tasting the musky, salty sweat of his engorged phallus, enjoying the ruddy texture of his flesh. She ran her tongue lower, down to his swollen balls, and tickled the hair of his scrotum with the wiggling tip of her tongue.

“God, Christ!” Bruce moaned.

Dinah was happy to please him. She’d never been much for giving blowjobs, but now that she was growing used to his taste, she thought she might like to change that. God knew she didn’t think she could take his massive cock every time they wanted to have a quickie! She kept up the tonguing, bathing his cock and scrotum in her saliva as Bruce moaned and sighed. Then she felt him sitting up.

As Dinah laid stretched out on her belly, she now found herself with her head in Bruce’s lap and him leaning over her, running his hands down her back, all the way to her buttocks. He reached between them, between her thighs, fingers threading between the curls of her pubic hair, cupping her mons. It was unbelievable! The few times she’d blown someone, Dinah had relished the feeling of power and control it gave her far more than the taste or the act itself, but now Bruce was almost effortlessly retaking control and including her in the pleasure. She couldn’t distance herself from the act like some halfway voyeur. Her body, with all its needs and wants, came screaming back into the equation as he worked a stiff finger inside of her plump labia.

“Mmm. Tight,” Bruce said gruffly, but calmly, as if she weren’t frantically burning away her feelings of desire by suckling harder at his member. He patted her ass a few times. “You have a good ass too. After you’ve done a good job sucking my prick, I think I’ll take it out of your mouth and put it there.”

He stuck his finger into her anus. Dinah flinched with sudden pleasure. She loved to be touched in the sensitive, intimate, taboo place Bruce had just discovered. He rubbed and tickled her rim with his fingertip, and hot pleasure melted into Dinah.

Ohhh, yes, darling, she thought. Touch me there…

But Bruce wasn’t listening to her unspoken thoughts. He lodged his fingertip inside her ass and left it there as his other hand reached to her clitoris, his fingernail lightly scratching over the highly sensitive nubbin. Dinah creamed heavily, helplessly, gushes of her delight pumping out of her as she animalistically shook her ass, rutting against a phantom lover for more. It was as if her body couldn’t believe that a few scant fingers were doing this to her, that she had to be being mated by a real cock and nothing else.

In her excitement she wiggled her wet little tongue desperately against his tip, burrowing its tip into the mouth of his glans, trying for more of his tasty cream. Bruce groaned and for a moment could only cup her plump buttocks as the pleasure shook his body.

“Dinah,” he grated out, “that’s wonderful—but if you keep going, I’m gonna come. And I’m not coming in your mouth.”

Dinah looked up into his eyes, his cock pumping in her mouth, and could see that he was absolutely serious, all his legendary determination now focused on fitting himself to her cunt and pistoning into her. It was an almost daunting feeling, having that indomitable will trained on her and her pleasure, and Dinah felt flushed as it all washed over her.

Dinah stopped sucking him, rolling off his lap and onto her back. Bruce reoriented himself to be holding his body over her, and Dinah almost giggled. It was like they were wrestling and Bruce was going for the pin. She could’ve slapped herself. Challenging Bruce to a wrestling match definitely would’ve been one way to get him to notice her. But then, judging by the enormous hard-on he sported, one that had as much to do with time and intimacy as her naked body, them noticing each other had never been the problem.

“Oh, Bruce, yes,” she gasped as he pressed it into her slit. “Yes, fuck me!”

“You’ve been fucked since we got into the car,” Bruce said, and Dinah realized that he’d known, he’d seen her nervousness all along, and what’s more, it was only a byproduct of her arousal, her own way of anticipating and teasing herself with the knowledge that from now on, she was his and the big cock plunging into her womanhood was all hers.

In his own taut eagerness, Bruce couldn’t be slow and tender. Her cunt was deliciously tight, clinging with fiery warmth around his swollen shaft. He took her in deep, hard strokes, with a savage speed that belied how good it felt. There was no pain, despite the roughness, only a jagged, spicy pleasure. Their bodies smacked together loudly.

“Yes, yes!” Dinah wailed, wrapping herself around him, taking him even as she delivered herself to Bruce. “Oh, GOD, Bruce, that’s so GOOD!”

Feeling an incredible surge of strength and unable to resist the impulse to truly impress Dinah, to show her just what she would be dealing with until death did they part, Bruce pushed himself up off the mat. With Dinah’s arms and legs wrapped around his muscular back, he didn’t slip out of her one inch. In fact, Dinah rocked her hips against his, trying to continue the coitus in lieu of his thrusting.

“Don’t stop, fuck me, over and over! I need your cock, I need you!”

Bruce’s arms swung confidently at his sides as he carried Dinah over to the balance beam. It was just the right height for Dinah’s ass to bump against its solid wooden heft when he walked into it. He grabbed hold of the beam with both hands on either side of Dinah, the pressure now pinning Dinah in place between his body and the board. Then, with his grip firm and Dinah locked against him, he really began to thrust into her.

Bruce grinned, hearing the wood of the beam already groaning as it took the reverberations of his pumping through Dinah’s ass.

Dinah’s mouth gaped open. In another moment, she was coming, her body wracked with an almost violent degree of satisfaction. Her doubts were gone as profoundly as if they’d never been there at all. She’d married the right man after all. He was everything she could ever ask for in a man—rich, handsome, heroic, and the best fuck she’d ever had. She gripped the beam herself, pushing back against Bruce with all her might, screaming out “yes… yes… yes!”

Bruce held off his own orgasm, bringing Dinah off several more times before he unloaded. Dinah, lost in her bliss, didn’t notice that he was stoically studying her as his seed filled her up. He watched her body, her expressions, her movements—and told himself that if he didn’t know any better, Dinah was not only highly fertile, but had just conceived.

As he allowed his supremely disciplined body to relax and the satisfaction of the act to wash over him, with the added pride of quite possibly having just given Dinah a child, Bruce considered the question. Careful not to allow Dinah’s slack body to slip from his grasp, he recalled that they both had discussed wanting children, but not the matter of birth control. It didn’t truly matter. They’d decided to start a family together, and if that family started right here and now, who was he to disagree with the universe on the matter?

Bruce supposed being married to a part-time goddess had made him sanguine on the prospect of fate.

Dinah showed impressive control in still clinging to Bruce as he pulled her off of the beam—her sweaty ass sticking to the sodden material for a moment—and carrying her along, one arm around her waist to secure her. With a groan, Dinah seemed to come back to herself.

“Wuh… where are we going?”

“Meeting room,” Bruce replied. “I think the table’s still there.”

Dinah smiled brightly as she realized his intent. “Fuck me right through it, Dracula.“