Those Long Gotham Nights 6

Diana was going to say something, but Bruce kissed her hard, silencing her. When he came away from her, his eyes were glowing with an inner fire she’d never seen before. He’d made his decision. She’d given in too much, or too little, and now he was going to dominate her. And Diana couldn’t think of a single reason not to let him.

He pushed her across the balcony, to the railing that cut it off from the long drop to the ground ten stories below. He shoved her against the balustrade so it pushed into her gut and she bent over it, her ass thrust into the air. Bruce took her lasso from where it was wound around her hips as a belt and used it to hog-tie her, wrapping it around ankles and wrists, ankles and wrists, so that the golden rope passed through the balusters. She couldn’t move, couldn’t go anywhere without breaking the lasso, and that was impossible. 

“You know I can do things to you when I get out of this,” Diana said threateningly.

“Shut the hell up.”

“Please,” Diana retorted. “Obviously you aren’t going to kill me. Even if you wanted to, you don’t have the strength. And you can’t keep me tied up forever. So what happens when I get loose?”

“You thank me for making you come, bitch.”

Diana smirked. “I’d better.”

“You fucking will.”

His words rang in the empty air like a bell tolling. Diana felt gooseflesh crawling over her. Despite her strength, despite how weak he was compared to her, she knew how brutal he was going to be with her. He was going to punish her. She struggled against her bonds, just to see if she could, because she couldn’t fully submit to him when she was such a smug bastard, but she was as helpless as it was possible for her to be. She was going to get exactly what she’d paid for her. 

He threw her skirt up over her waist, exposing her ass, her cunt, and when the cool night air hit them, it felt like they belonged to him. “I like your stockings,” Bruce said. With Diana’s dress up around her waist, her stockings showed from her garter belt all the way down. “I’ll leave those on. I like them a lot better than your dirty cunt right now.”

“You think my cunt’s dirty?” Diana retorted. “Is that why you’re going to fuck me in the ass?”

“Maybe,” he said. With Diana doubled over, looking back between her own legs, all she could see was her reflection in his shiny black shoes, staring back at her. “Maybe I won’t fuck you at all. Maybe I’ll just smack your ass a little and see if that teaches you a lesson.”

“You’ll fuck me,” Diana said smugly. 

“You sound confident,” Bruce replied, sounding amused. She could imagine how his eyebrows were arched. 

“You fucked Audrey. If you couldn’t stop yourself from fucking her, how are you going to resist fucking me?”

“What makes you think I was trying to stop myself with her?”

“You knew it would piss me off.”

“Or maybe you’re being a jealous bitch and that’s why you’re getting punished.”

“You’re punishing me? I thought you were just getting a look at my ass. A little sordid, but hardly punishment.”

“I’m trying to think of something kinky enough that an Amazon cunt like you won’t enjoy it.” Diana cringed, feeling him lightly touch her clit. “Of course, I may be overcomplicating things. What you’d probably hate the most is to come your brains out, knowing that slut Audrey came just as hard for me when I did exactly the same thing to her.”

Diana clenched her teeth. “Even if she was happy to be your little toy, I’m not.”

“Then don’t come, Princess. A good role model like you shouldn’t get off on being played with like a bitch in heat.”

She did—she hated herself to feel burning blood pounding into her groin, swelling her clit, pulsing through her folds. Even submission should have a limit, and hers was having Bruce gleefully throw Queen Audrey in her face. Yet it was getting to her and in a big way. Her pussy was already overflowing with arousal.

“Yeah, that’s how a good little bitch acts when I play with her.” He ran his fingernail over her labia, lightly scratching its tender flesh. It didn’t hurt. If anything, it tickled. And that was worse than feeling a Parademon claw into her. “Audrey wasn’t half this wet before I made her come. It must really turn you on, knowing you’re my personal slut.”

The more frustrated Diana got with him and how he was playing his dominance to the hilt, the hotter she got. She struggled futilely against the lasso binding her upper and lower body onto either side of the railing, knowing from experience that it would be impossible to free herself. If nothing else, Bruce wouldn’t settle for a less than perfect way of topping her, so she had to be trapped.

“Go on. Struggle. I know you only want out because it’s pissing you off how much this is turning you on. Would you like to guess what that’s doing to me?” He ran down his zipper, letting his cock out. It was long and rigid, ready to fuck her as it had Audrey—and now Diana couldn’t stop thinking of how her so-called friend had come all over that thing.

“You really think you can dominate me,” Diana drawled, trying to make herself sound unimpressed.

“Perhaps not… not in the way you think… After all, is it really submission for a woman like you to get what you’ve been craving? Or is it a reward? At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. You’ll come and I’ll pump you full of my seed. The only real question is whether you’ll thank me or not, once my cum is leaking out of you.”

His shiny shoes kicked her feet to either side, making her open her legs. Looking up between her thighs, Diana saw how he towered over her, seeming godlike from her fallen perspective. She’d never seen a man’s cock look so huge…

He moved forward. Diana twisted her hips, wagged them from side to side, but even with what little movement she had available, there was no way to keep him from plunging into her sex. She did it mostly to see if that would be a comfort. She didn’t know if it was or not, because before she could think any further, he rammed himself into her cunt.

Diana gasped, almost fainting, shocked out of her conflicting emotions by the sudden influx of sensation. The feeling took her completely by surprise and she was left in two pieces, both wanting him to fuck her and not wanting him to take the pleasure she knew he would get out of it. 

It was the kind of dilemma that would usually see her conquering a man, mounting his face to ride him to her enjoyment, not his, but Bruce had precluded the possibility of that. He’d been too damn domineering and Diana, ever the peacemaker, had let him get away with disrespect no Amazon should tolerate.

But when he was actually balls deep in her juicy pussy, the conflict dissolved. She loved it too much to care about his pleasure, ill-gotten as it was. She didn’t care what he said or how he used her. So long as he made her come as the first few seconds of her penetration promised, come from being fucked long and hard and deep.

“Please—Hera—shit—nnnh—give it to me—Bruce—Bruce! Give me all of it!”

“You can’t help but like it, can you? You’re lucky I don’t bear a grudge. I could make this hurt like hell for you. Instead, I’ll let you come all you want. I know how you enjoy being my bitch!”

He rocked himself back and forth, moving inside with a smooth, gentle glide that belied his fierce tone, actually aggravating Diana with the soft pleasure she felt. She didn’t want him to make love to her. She wanted to be fucked, hard and fast, and as if Bruce had sensed her admitting that, he suddenly burst into a frenzy of motion, his cock pumping into her just as hard and just as fast as she could ask for. 

Feeling him driving into her, thrusting into her so hard that the tightened folds of her sex were forced to give way, Diana went wild with desire. “Fuck me, Bruce! Fuck me harder! You think you can call me your bitch when all you’re doing is giving me a massage?”

Bruce grunted, starting to take her harder and faster, his loins punching against Diana’s taut ass hard enough for her to feel pain rippling through her alongside the pleasure. She was used to enduring pain, but not to this ecstasy that came with it, his fat cock stretching the lips of her pussy and forcing its way deep inside her, reforming her insides into his personal cockholster. And Diana loved it. She wanted him to use her even more.

Then, as if to prove she owed her pleasure to him, that it wasn’t the living, animal thing it felt like, burning inside her, Bruce was gone. Her pussy was achingly empty, red-hot with the friction from the pumping that had stopped.

“No!” Diana cried. “Don’t stop! You can’t stop!”

“I can. I did. How much of my cock inside your cunt did you really think you’d earned?”

He took off his patent leather belt, doubling it in his hand and slapping it against his opposing palm. The weighty whack filled Diana with dread, a promise of pain. Yet she couldn’t say she wasn’t looking forward to anything that would replace the hollow sensation in her cooling sex.

He whipped the belt across her bare ass, once, twice, leaving ugly red welts on her bronze skin. Diana moaned, but she didn’t sound hurt.

“You like feeling your master play with you, isn’t that right? You like knowing that you’re mine!”

He swung the belt against the backs of her thighs, Diana crying out, trembling with the pain. But it wasn’t just the hurt, it was that he was lording this over her, never letting her forget he was dominating her long enough for Diana to lose herself in the sensations. 

It was even worse than when he’d taken his cock away. He’d spoiled the pleasure for her, but she was still enjoying it. Great Hera, she was enjoying it more even than the fuck with Audrey. Caring, friendly loving with her sister Audrey couldn’t compare to—whatever this was.

And as though to prove it, Bruce laid the belt across where her thighs met her buttocks, the blow finding her cunt between her legs, reverberating into her erect little clit. Diana came, stunned by the feeling blossoming into her. She hadn’t expected the pain and humiliation she felt to couple that way, but it did. He struck her ass a few times more, enhancing and prolonging her orgasm with sensations that she should have never found arousing.

“YES! YES! FUCK! I’M COMING! UUHH! BRUCE!”

He struck her clit again, burning pain erupting through her jiggling thighs along with the rapture that seemed like another orgasm entirely. Diana didn’t understand how the shocks of pain were getting her off. All she knew was that they did. Bruce knew just how to hurt her so that she enjoyed it.

“You love it, don’t you? You love knowing you’re my bitch! Tell me how you love it!” He laid the belt across her pert buttocks particularly hard, driving its sting deep into her quivering flesh.

“Yes, Bruce, I do, yes, I do!”

His next touch came not from the belt, but from his free hand, gently stroking her agonized sex, massaging her own juices back into its folds like a soothing balm. Suddenly, Diana had time to think, to breathe. The pain and pleasure lingered long enough for her to really feel them.

“I told you I’d punish you, Diana. Now you can spend your immortality knowing that for at least one night, you were my bitch.”

Diana sighed lovingly. She didn’t, couldn’t care. It was worth it. “And when did you decide that would be enough to cause me chagrin?”

“It doesn’t matter to me whether you like it or not.”

Diana grinned. “Liar.”

She felt the tip of his erection pressing into her tortured slit. “You should be thankful I don’t care enough to make this hurt.”

Then he was hammering herself into her, taking her softly yielding body in all its surrender. Diana was caught off guard once again, shocked by just how receptive her anguished body was. No matter how she fumed at him, or accepted his foibles, his cock had the same effect on her.

The welts he’d burned into her ass throbbed, pulsing at the same tempo as the dull ache in her sex, all of which sapped her fortitude, left her totally unprepared for how he fucked into her. She couldn’t handle the many kinds of sensations multiplying throughout her body. She felt like she was going mad.

Diana came again, her climax staggering her from the inside, seeming to blow the top off her skull as it gathered thunderously behind her eyes. She hadn’t even been so turned on by a man, and it wasn’t even someone who respected her, loved her, not by any conventional definition of the terms. He had tormented her, shamed her, and if anything that added to her arousal. She couldn’t sort out all the conflict in her feelings for the man. There was too much in motion, both in her head and in her tender flesh.

Then Bruce was really fucking her, giving her all of his enormous, impossibly stiff cock. It wasn’t the light, feathery lovemaking that he had started out teasing her with or even the brutal attempt to subjugate her that had so surprised her. 

This was as hard and as fast as she could ask for, a greedy fucking that cared only for Bruce’s pleasure, secure in the knowledge that she would be satisfied by it whether she liked it or not. A dicking that only a man like Bruce could give.

He drove his prick mercilessly into her juicy sex. Diana gasped, feeling the resounding thrusts stirring the painful welts on her ass, as if to prove that the pleasure was far more than the lingering pain. He was making her as passionate, as desiring, as she could possibly be. Diana had a feeling nothing less would do for him, despite his show of not caring how satisfied she was.

“Like it, bitch?” Bruce snarled. And a part of Diana didn’t understand how Bruce could make her feel so wonderful while degrading her. Was it a defense mechanism? A way of backing out of a full relationship but still enjoying what little connection he could?

Diana’s body rebelled. She struggled feebly against her binding lasso, knowing it would do no good, yet feeling she had to do something to show Bruce she wasn’t as fully converted—as totally his bitch—as he seemed to think.

Yet words escaped her, slipping directly from her hazy mind to her muttering lips: “Yes! Shit! I love you! I love that huge cock fucking me, fuck me!”

She didn’t see the fierce grin Bruce sported upon hearing her cock-drunk babbling. The whole thing was too confusing for her to figure out in the middle of such an assault. She hated the humiliation of being his bitch yet she loved the sensations that came with it. It was all too much for her to handle. Bruce’s cock and the masculine enjoyment she knew it reaped from pistoning into her dripping sex was something she could understand. The insults and degradation was something she would have to work out later.

Some sixth sense forced her eyes open, called her attention far below. She saw Audrey stepping out of the building, small, doll-like on the street below, flanked by the bodyguards that Diana guessed had finally managed to corral her. 

They were leading her toward Audrey’s limousine when a Range Rover shrieked its way around the corner. Abruptly she felt Bruce’s pumping thrusts freeze as he too noticed the situation. Unbidden, words urging him to continue sprang to Diana’s lips, but died away—the self-restraint took a surprising amount of Diana’s will.

The bodyguards hastened to pull Audrey onto the sidewalk, between the stoops of the buildings lining that side of the street. The Range Rover came on, smashing into the limo hard enough to force it onto the sidewalk, knocking down a street tree before crashing against the stoop that Audrey had sought cover behind.

Bruce was already in frantic motion, pulling out of Diana and bending to loosen the lasso. There was no time, no need for conversation. Diana leapt over the railing she had just been bent over, her lasso trailing behind her, and twisted and whirled as she fell. 

When she came down, her famous costume had replaced the disheveled dress she’d worn for Bruce’s debasement. Diana always felt a sense of power wearing the armor that identified her as the idol and role model of so many, but it came over particularly strong on the heels of how submissive she had been. 

She actually felt a keen sense of sexual arousal, entirely different from the currents of desire that had been interrupted by this crime, and as it flooded through her, Diana promised herself that this night, at least, she wouldn’t allow Bruce to dominate her again. No matter how pleasurable it had been.

The doors to the Range Rover kicked out, releasing a fire team of gunmen in black tactical gear. Their equipment looked pricy, but their training couldn’t have been that good—they were ignoring the six-foot-tall woman in the spangled outfit to focus on Audrey and her bodyguards. Diana would make them pay for that. 

In a rush of speed she charged into the Rover, sending it flipping through the air to land on the concrete railings of the stoop. The loss of their cover and getaway vehicle stunned the gunmen, rendering them harmless for a brief interval. 

In a flash, Diana was between the three of them, replacing the Rover in their spatial awareness, a whirling dervish of attack right where their sanctuary had been a moment ago. She struck one with a resounding blow to the head that slapped him into the ground, lashed out with a kick that caught another and sent him flying past Audrey’s party. 

The third and last jerked his gun up and fired in a panic. That was fine—people tended towards disappointment if they didn’t get to see her bracers do their thing. She batted away the .45 caliber slugs until both his clip and his chamber were empty, then shot out her hand for the man himself. It was only to grab him by the lapels, but he flinched so hard that he passed out.

Holding him effortlessly above the flecks of paint and broken glass that had covered the ground in the car accident, Diana checked the Range Rover that she’d ‘treed’. The driver was semiconscious, groaning as he struggled with his seatbelt. Diana slammed her fist into the hood of the car, setting off the airbag. It knocked him out with a last dwindling moan.