Gotham Among Other Gods update

Bruce relaxed, breathing out the heightened energy and emotions of being ‘shared’ by Karen and Helena. Despite the somewhat passive role he’d played as Helena and especially Karen had had their way with him, it had proved not only a draining experience, but that keyed him up with passion and affection for the women involved. He was exhausted, but as Karen and Helena huddled against his broad chest, their only sexual desires quite obviously sated, it was all he could do not to give in to the warm temptation of their naked bodies beside his and allow himself to grow aroused once more.

Instead, he forced himself to cool. Diana had sent a message to him, though not through anything as crude as the communicators. Rather, he’d felt a tingle in the back of his head—timed serendipitously with the orgasm his two lovers had brought him to—and now he found himself delving into the collective unconscious as he left his waking self behind. 

Astral projection was never something he’d believed in, though he’d dutifully learned it along with the other practices of ninjutsu. Diana was a master of that mystical art, though, and she easily greeted him in dream form, bridging the gap between the level of consciousness required and what he could achieve. 

“My,” she commented, gleaning enough from his bodily self to experience something of Karen and Helena’s naked forms. “You do keep busy while I’m away.”

“Jealous?” Bruce asked, slightly taunting her.

“Of them or of you?” Diana returned. She tutted as she looked over Bruce’s astral form—irrevocably tied to his physical one, naked and awash with post-coital energy. “Let’s try to be presentable,” she said, and quickly twitched a few of Bruce’s chakras until—without any real awareness on his part—he was picturing himself in the simple khakis and polo shirt he might wear to relax around Wayne Manor. 

“And here I thought it was so unrealistic how guys in movies always seem to need women to tie their ties,” Bruce said.

“Come. The Oracle is waiting.”

Bruce had no sensation of movement, he was just standing somewhere else suddenly—where, he didn’t know. Any attempt to detect his surroundings with his senses told him only that he was still lying down in bed, Helena and Karen with him. His eyes were closed, blackness all around, but he could feel Diana’s presence as well as the Oracle’s now.

“Themyscira will soon arrive outside Gotham Harbor,” the Oracle said in her soft croon. “I see that you and your witch had done much to close the rifts. They will reopen.”

“How do we stop them?” Diana asked. “Permanently?”

“There are five golden apples,” the Oracle said. “Our Artemis took one from Maxie Zeus. Your Kendra took one from Phobos.”

Bruce grunted, annoyed. “How could she not tell me?”

“I presume the same reason Artemis has not,” the Oracle said. “It is not safe to speak of such things where they can be overheard.”

“That’s two,” Diana said. “Where are the others?”

“Eris has one. Deimos another. A third is with the Court of Owls. When you have all five, the ending will come. That is all I can say.”

Diana smiled reassuringly at Bruce, and the next thing he knew he was jerking awake. Artemis stood over him, gently rolling aside Helena and Karen so he could detangle himself from them.

“You wanted my apple,” Artemis said, drawing open the satchel on her belt. “Here it is.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed as he got up. “How did you know about that?”

“Diana told me. You didn’t notice me there?” Artemis grinned. “You really suck at astral projection.”

“I own a phone,” Bruce replied tersely. 

***

Washed up and dressed, his bandages changed, Bruce looked over the team he could assemble on his tablet. He’d held the Outsiders in reserve thus far, but if this was the endgame, it was time to bring them in. He looked over the line-up, scanning status reports and training statistics to make sure they were on target. Blue Beetle. Martian Manhunter. Azrael. Jessica Cruz. Rocket Red. Natasha Irons. And Jason, his son by Artemis. A good team. 

Joker would obviously be the most dangerous and the most unpredictable wild card, even with a Greek demon inside his head. Bruce decided that as long as the Outsiders were fresh, he would strike the opposition there with everything he had. Leave the soft underbelly, if any, for his forces already in the city, who were growing fatigued and blunt. 

He confirmed the order, summoning the team, then gave the nod to Artemis. She hefted her axe, carrying it to go along with the sword and warhammer she had sheathed on her person. Bruce pulled his cowl up over his head and hoped he wouldn’t have cause to regret letting Karen and Helena sleep.

If there was one thing they had proved lately, it was that they had plenty of stamina.

***

Cultists mutated to the point of barely being human. Ordinary citizens possessed of a rage their mortal bodies could barely hope to contain. Monsters from the darkest corners of Greek mythology. The fighting was as heavy, the battle as intense as Bruce could’ve asked for. 

He noted with approval that his standing orders were being obeyed. The baseline humans engaged the possessed civilians, knocking out or immobilizing them, while the heavy-hitters went after the mythological beasts. He saw Blue Beetle take out a gorgon, his armor covering his eyes and doing his aiming for him. J’onn shut down droves of cultists with thought-bombs aimed at their deluded zealotry. 

In a lightning-fast combination, Bruce knocked the breath out of a civilian’s lungs with a hard slam to the breadbasket, then bound and hog-tied him with the tensile wire of a Batcuff. He switched one lens of his mask to a tactical overlay of Gotham Square, and saw that a wave of Joker’s reinforcements were arriving on their flank. Deimos had chosen his host carefully. Joker offered a nearly unlimited supply of psychotics to be cannon fodder for the cause.

“Lantern,” Bruce snapped into his communicator. “Shore up our right flank.”

“Which right? Your right or my right?”

“The one with the zombies coming toward it, I am thinking,” Rocket Red said.

“Oh. Right.” Jessica Cruz sped through the sky at the point of an emerald trail, slowing to a stop on the eastern edge of the square and then summoning up all her neuroses, all her anxiety, into an army of ring-constructs to pit themselves against the flanking maneuver.

“Good work,” Bruce said. “Does anyone have a twenty on Joker?”

“If you mean have I seen him,” Natasha replied, “then yeah, I’ve got the one guy in America who wears a purple tuxedo by the fountain. And he is having one bad hair day.”

Bruce twisted to his left, marking Rocket Red there, finishing off a minotaur with a continuous stream of fire from his boot jets. “Rocket. I need a lift,” he said, rushing him.

“Dasvidanya,” Rocket Red replied, grabbing hold of Bruce and throwing him thirty feet up. 

At the apex of the leap, Batman extended his cape and let it glide him down to the fountain. He could see the Joker—green hair elongated and knotted into something between snakes and dreadlocks. They were moving far more than the breeze was.

“Artemis, on me,” Bruce subvocalized. She’d probably be running out of meat to butcher by now. He raised his voice to address the Joker. “You picked the wrong body to climb into, Deimos.”

“Who better,” Deimos responded, “than the man all of Gotham fears—even more than you?”

“Someone who doesn’t bruise so easily,” Bruce answered. 

He flung himself at Deimos. He wasn’t surprised when the hair-snakes swarmed defensively like Brainiac’s tentacles. Bruce skidded to a stop, instead hurling out a brace of Batarangs. The snakes stopped them, even at the expense of some being slashed through.

Bruce took it as proof that Deimos might have been in the driver’s seat, but Joker wasn’t along for the ride. He would’ve known that, ensnared in the jungle of Deimos’s tentacles, the Batarangs would explode. Bruce drew up his cape to shield himself as the charges went out, then threw out another handful of Batarangs.

Deimos responded by going on the offensive, snapping the flying Batarangs away with flailing tentacles as he charged at Bruce. They traded blows, Bruce using the scallops on his gauntlets to sheer away the tentacles as he got in punch after punch on the Joker, staying on the defensive to keep away from Deimos’s own blows. 

It couldn’t last. The time came when he had to block instead of dodge, and when he did, the sheer power of Deimos’s attack sent him flying. As the world spun around him, he saw that he was arcing over Artemis as she came in on the attack, her massive axe swooping through a forest of the snaking hairs and ripping them all apart. Deimos moaned unnaturally, the pain getting through even to him. 

Bruce landed on his feet and resolved to support Artemis’s charge. As Deimos ducked and weaved away from Artemis’s chops, Bruce flung Batarangs at him, making him sacrifice tentacles to stay intact. A demigod like Deimos would have no problem growing more, but dead, riding in a hijacked mortal body, Bruce doubted his limit was very high.

“Amazon whore!” Deimos hissed out, the words echoed by his swirling tentacles, and Artemis came at him with an overhead swing that chopped through a host of hairs before sinking deep into his raised forearm. Deimos shrieked—as impossible as it looked, the humongous axehead had only penetrated a few inches into his flesh. Even for a myth, though, it looked painful.

Deimos threw her off him, dislodging the axe from his arm and sending Artemis back several paces, her boots skidding over the worn pavement. She stopped beside Bruce, her axe dripping blood. She looked from it, to him, and gave Bruce an apologetic look.

“Sorry,” she said, knowing how close she’d come to stoving in Joker’s head on the last attack, “I was trying to hold back.”

“I can live with it.” Bruce drew another Batarang and stepped toward Deimos. “We want the apple.”

“You’ll never get it!” Deimos spat at them, ichor pumping steadily out of his wounded arm. It seemed impossible that a living being could lose so much bodily fluid, much less what was leaking out of his severed tentacles, and remain standing. 

Then, with an impish gleam in his eyes, Deimos reached into his jacket pocket and brought out the golden apple. It should’ve bulged out of the line of his suit, but instead the Joker’s body produced it like a magician calling up a card. Bruce found himself wondering, in a burst of intuition, if this was truly Deimos or the Joker’s influence from deep inside.

Those whom the gods destroy, he recalled, they first drive mad. So what did madness do to a god?

The golden apple showed Batman and Artemis in its metallic reflection. “Come and get it!” Deimos taunted them.

Artemis bull-rushed him, axe held high above her head, leaving Bruce no time to call her back. Deimos met her head on, his remaining snakes spitting green venom at her in a hail of hissing acid. Artemis crossed her forearms over her face like an Amazon, protecting herself as the corrosive poison washed over her. 

Bruce reacted instantaneously. As Deimos met the attack, he clicked the Batarang on and threw it.

It was a new design, one that didn’t just whirl through the air, but buzzed like a chainsaw.

Where the axe had lodged itself in Deimos’s arm, the Batarang sawed right through it.

His hand fell to the ground, still clutching the golden apple, as Deimos’s snakes stiffened and went numb, hacking up their impotent poison like phlegmatic old men.

Deimos ran for it, almost instantly disappearing into the battle. Bruce tasked his heavy-hitters to go after him, but as he helped Artemis up and secured the apple, he doubted they’d get ahold of him. Not this time.

***

With Deimos gone, his army quickly collapsed. The wounded were captured and those left fled. Bruce let them go, for now. Mopping them up was pointless with the rifts active. Instead, he had the Outsiders commandeer a nearby hotel. While they waited for the authorities to arrive, some would quarantine the possessed civilians, while others would guard the prisoners. He gave the golden apple to Green Lantern, telling her to take it up to the Watchtower along with the others. It would be safe in the trophy room until they were needed.

Once the initial orders had been given out and the long wait for the National Guard had started, Bruce noticed that Artemis was nowhere to be found. Guessing that she might like to wash off some of that slime, he went to the hotel pool. The decontaminating showers there would be the nearest place to get clean.

He didn’t find Artemis there, but he did see her half-melted armor discarded on the floor of the group shower. He guessed the rest of her hadn’t gotten far.

***

Artemis was floating in the pool, trying to feel clean after she’d worn a bar of soap down to nothing rinsing herself, when Bruce appeared at poolside. He’d undressed, wearing nothing but the bottom of his costume, and his strong body was bronzed with a rich, active tan. She guessed he’d judged his armor to be in need of repairs and taken advantage of the eye of the storm to swap it out for a new one delivered by drone.

“You seem to have a knack for hunting me down whenever I’m without clothes,” she said.

“You seem to have a knack for losing them after a fight,” he teased her.

Artemis could feel his eyes on her wet, near-naked body. She knew a man could hardly resist staring at her bobbing breasts, barely concealed by the bra she wore underneath her armor. She’d only left it on because someone else might stumble in on her. This was Bruce’s alone. It excited her fiercely that both of them were thinking that. 

“Mind if I join you?” Bruce asked.

“Not at all. As long as you don’t drop in like a beached whale and make waves.” She ran her fingers through the surface of the pool. “I like it like this. Calm. Like glass.”

Bruce started undoing the catches on his trousers. Artemis stared at his crotch, finding herself both hoping and fearing that he was wearing trunks underneath. He was, but there was a large bulge in them. Artemis eyed it as he slid into the water with her, making barely a ripple. He ducked his head under the water and swam gently over to her, not disturbing the even surface of the pool until he rose up next to her.

“Did you see Jason in action today?” 

“Yes,” Bruce answered. “He did very well. He’s fitting in nicely with the Outsiders.”

“We did a good job raising him,” Artemis said. “I wonder if we can’t do just as good a job again?”

“Double or nothing?”

Artemis smiled. “I wouldn’t mind twins,” she taunted him. “If you have it in you.”

“I don’t,” he replied. “But you’re about to…”

But as he reached for her, Artemis swam away from him, knifing through the water until she came to the steps and pulling herself up by the handrail. She looked insanely beautiful there: her long lean legs emerging from the water, and her lithe body gleaming all over with beads of water, and only an inundated set of bra and panties to hide even a little of her from his gaze.

“You’re very easy to convince,” Artemis said. “Perhaps you just want to enjoy the pleasures of my body—male.”

“Always,” Bruce said readily. “And I’m always comfortable with my family getting bigger. I have been for a very long time now.”

“Then any willing sow is all you need to bear your spawn?” Artemis teased. She ran a hand up her sleek body. “Do you have any standards at all? Are my hips big enough? What about my teats?”

Bruce nearly growled in playful anger. “Both are very well-sized. But mostly, I trust the woman. If you say you want a child, I trust you’re ready for one. And you’re my wife. What my wife wants, she gets.”

Artemis turned her back on him, climbing up the stairs and out of the pool.

“Where are you going?” Bruce asked, disappointment clear in his voice.

“Out of the water.” Artemis grabbed a towel. “Why replace the beast’s foul stench with chlorine?”

Bruce scrambled out of the pool and followed her into the locker room, where he dripped heavily, the sound echoing strangely off the tiles of the empty space.

“Forget your towel?” Artemis asked nonchalantly. She tossed her to him. “Dry me off. Then it’s all yours.”

She turned her long, supple back to him and Bruce rubbed the towel’s dryness into her skin. He wiped off her lower back and her shoulders before the strap of her bra was in the way. Then she felt his fingers on the string. A sharp tremor seized Artemis’s body and she felt herself grin as it started to happen.

Her bra was so flimsy that it fell to the floor the moment Bruce loosened it. She bit her lower lip, keeping it between her teeth as she felt him run the towel over her skin again.

“That’s it,” she muttered, giving up on trying to keep her breathing steady. “That’s it…”

When he reached the buoyant curve of her buttocks with the towel, she turned around, leaving his hand hovering in front of her groin. Her naked breasts nearly brushed against him. Bruce looked surprised, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her quivering globes, pale and even a little freckled against the brown of her tan. Her soft nipples were large and swollen.

“I want you to pleasure me,” Artemis said, “before you fucking breed me.”

She reached out, grabbed him by the head, and pulled his face down to her breasts. Instinctively he cupped them in his hands as he sucked her engorged left nipple into his mouth. "I love you," he said around it. "And I want more of you. I want all of you!"

“Oh yes!” Artemis mewled. Her body was on fire. She threw back her head and pushed her throbbing nipple even more insistently into his mouth, moaning pleasurably as it was accepted. “Suck, Bruce, suck me!”

“Your tits are beautiful,” Bruce managed to mutter.

“Suck them, suck them good!”

Bruce squeezed her aching tits, switching to suck on her other nipple with desperate passion.

“Ah!” Artemis gasped. “Oh, by Cupid’s Bow… I… I want you to fuck me!” she panted softly. “I want you to make my pussy feel like my tits do. And I want to feel that way all the way to my fucking womb.”

Bruce half-grinned at her vulgarity. For all her Amazon grace, Artemis had a Bana-Mighdall crudeness that aroused him tremendously. She might be an honor bound warrior on the field of battle, but in bed, she was as jaded as a half-paid whore.

Artemis grabbed Bruce and kissed him wildly, snaking her tongue against his, pushing her breasts into his hairy chest. She reached down and pushed her hand inside his trunks, feeling the heat of his trapped and throbbing manhood.

“I want your cock,” she panted. “I want your big cock in my mouth as much as I want it in my cunt.”

She slid down his body, kissing the droplets of water off his skin and tasting their slight bitterness until she was on her knees. Then she grabbed his trunks and pulled them off his muscular thighs in one swift jerk. His huge cock was now only inches from her face, twitching potently. 

She closed her lips around its flaring head, sucking Bruce wildly from her very first taste of him. Hera, great Hera, I love it! She thought. But she had only sucked him for a few seconds when she realized how little control he had left.

“I see I’m not the only one excited after a fight,” she said, briefly letting his jumping cock out of his mouth. She tried to suck it back in, but Bruce had a hold of her lengthy hair, gripping it tightly to hold her in place. “What’re you doing—“

“Showing you how it felt,” Bruce answered, jerking off with his free hand, “when you put me off in the pool.”

He aimed his cock at Artemis’s helpless face, holding the tip nearly against her flesh as the cum began to flow. A white-hot stream of it poured from the end of his cock and splashed into Artemis’s face.

Artemis gasped and wished she hadn’t. Her mouth was open when Bruce’s cock pulsed again. Steaming white semen poured over her teeth and filled her mouth with a salty taste. She gulped unthinkingly, sucking much of his ejaculation down her throat. Her eyes shut a split-second before Bruce aimed his cum up and down her face.

Artemis scowled, “I wanted this in my pussy, you beast!”

“I wanted you in the pool,” Bruce replied, releasing her hair with a jerk that landed her on her ass instead of her knees. Despite herself, Artemis felt herself growing sharply turned on. There was something about how Bruce used her—after the pleasantries were done with—that was sheer animal. She enjoyed the carnality of it. What better way to mate than to be taken like a bitch in heat?

“Now that I’ve had your face, I want your pussy. Lift your ass up nice and high for me,” he ordered. 

Mewling with delicious anticipation, which spiked all the more as she felt his warm seed running down her face, Artemis did as she asked, getting down on her hands and knees and wiggling her hips salaciously for him. Bruce ripped her panties right off her, exposing her tender, dripping sex as well as the abundant curvature of her ass. That he gave a heartily approving smack with the flat of his hand. Artemis moaned in delight. In battle, he respected her as his equal in every respect. But here, now, she was a female to be mounted. She smiled at the thought.

With his own lewd grin, Bruce guided the spade of his fat cockhead to Artemis’s sex. He knew Artemis needed no further preparation than the mockery she had received and her own incensed pride. She was dripping even more than she had been after getting out of the pool. He lunged into her and grunted as he felt the embrace of her tightness. If he hadn’t already covered her face, he would’ve come then and there.

Artemis sobbed in happiness as his huge shaft pushed into her body, filling her sweet cunt to the brim with his hardness. Bruce tried not to be as vocal as the lusty barbarian taking his cock, but he was helpless not to groan in pleasure as her folds churned around his throbbing erection. Then they were both moaning as he stroked in and out of her, his balls slapping against her as he sank himself to the hilt in her sucking pussy. It was like Artemis’s very body wanted his seed, his son, growing inside her.

“FUCK! FUCK! AAAARGH!” Artemis grunted and gasped with ecstatic glee, pushing back against Bruce, pounding the ground with her fists as he sent tremors of searing pleasure coursing through her. Somewhere in her passion-soaked mind, Artemis realized that when Jason was conceived, Bruce wasn’t trying to get her pregnant. It was just a happy accident. Now he was trying deliberately to breed her. And it was an entirely different animal.

“Artemis!” Bruce groaned hoarsely. “I can’t hold it in much longer!” She wasn’t surprised. As brutally as he was fucking her, she couldn’t help but come either. She thought she already was, on and on and on with every potent lunge he made inside of her. “I’m gonna shoot!”

He rammed into her deeply, driving his engorged manhood into her aching cunt until his balls were against her stuffed quim, still coolly damp with poolwater. Artemis couldn’t believe it; he still wasn’t dry? It felt like hours had passed since he’d first entered her. 

Her head whirled as ripples of hot, molten satisfaction gathered deep within her. As Bruce pumped her again and again, stoking that fiery satiation, her cunt burned hotter and hotter. Suddenly, a tumultuous explosion burst within her, and Artemis screamed with joy, wracked by uncontrollable rapture going through her body.

“OOH! HERE IT IS! TAKE IT!” Bruce roared. He pounded into her, gripping her hips tight as iron as his balls tightened with all the boiling pleasure he could stand. “TAKE IT LIKE A GOOD! AMAZON! SLUT! HHHHN!” 

Barrages of white-hot cum hurtled out from his spasming member and fountained deep into Artemis. He groaned and shuddered and twitched with satisfaction as he saw his seed fill Artemis’s well-used pussy, spill out from between her legs and down her thighs, splattering her bottom as much as he had her top. Artemis’s own sucking, spasming orgasm milked every last drop of Bruce’s cream out of him. He pulled out of her, breathing hard, still as stiff as a ramrod.

“Turn over,” he said huskily.

Artemis rolled over onto her back, gasping and shuddering not so much from her mind-shattering multiple orgasms as from the aftershocks of the sudden cessation. No longer being fucked by him was almost traumatizing, and she had to look down at her copper-fringed sex to see it glittering with her juices and the flowing river of Bruce’s cum, running down her thighs in steady rivulets. Only then was she sure she hadn’t imagined such passion. 

“That’s it?” she breathed. “You just fuck my face once? Pussy.”

“I didn’t know there was any room left,” he said, straddling her head, mounting it, and offering her his ever-so-slowly shrinking cock. “Don’t talk until you get my cock hard again. I want to ruin your pussy some more before we’re done.”

She purred as she went down on it, its wiry pubic hairs tickling her lips and nose. Dry, she noted. She wondered if her pussy was that hot. Slurping and sucking, she claimed the warm spunk both inside his balls and out, adoring the rich taste on her tongue.

It occurred to Artemis how odd it would seem, before she had married Bruce, for her to be a proud, noble warrior standing beside him in battle, and yet a craven slut whenever he decided to reduce her to such. She wondered if she let him, or if he truly overwhelmed her, and whether it would be possible to break him as thoroughly as he broke her—when she was willing to be broken.

But as she lapped, his cock was swelling again, coming back to life beautifully. She shivered and looked up at him. “Make sure I’m pregnant,” she demanded, grabbing her pussy. “You don’t get to fuck any other holes until you’ve put a baby here.”