FRIEND OR FOE

by batfan60

 

RETURN TO HOMEPAGE: https://www.angelfire.com/super2/batfan60/

 

DISCLAIMER: Most of these characters belong to a giant corporation, not me. This is a work of fan fiction; no infringement intended. I welcome your comments at batfan60@yahoo.com

 

 

1.

 

It was half past midnight -- the middle of a typical workday for me -- when the red phone rang. I was engrossed in a case I'd been working on for months, so I didn't think to check the caller ID before I picked up the receiver. It's a line I've reserved for a handful of insiders who help me from time to time, and I was half expecting a call from one of them anyway.

 

"Hello," I said, distracted by the hefty amounts of data on my computer screen.

 

There was no answer.

 

"Hello?" I said again, glancing at the readout on the phone and realizing it was a blocked number. Not good. Not good at all.

 

"Who is this?" I demanded in my sternest persona. "How did you get this number?"

 

"Is this 'the Bat-man?'" asked an unfamiliar male voice at last, relishing the pronunciation of my pseudonym.

 

I swallowed hard. No point in denying the truth; besides, I was obliged now to follow this through to its logical conclusion. "Yes it is," I replied. "Now tell me who YOU are and how you got this number."

 

"Let's this discuss in person," the stranger said calmly. "Meet me on Hanover Street -- 4 buildings down from Main. Look for a white door. I'll see you there in 20 minutes."

 

"Wait a second," I started to say, a list of questions forming on my lips, but the line went blank. I hung up and considered my options. The voice didn't match any of my known adversaries, and it didn't sound particularly menacing -- flirtatious is the word I'd choose if forced to describe the tone. Odds were good I was walking straight into a trap, but I absolutely had to find out more about this man before things got out of hand.

 

I was already wearing most of my suit, so after a too-quick inspection of the contents of my utility belt I grabbed my gloves, mask and cape and took my place behind the steering wheel of the car I call the Batmobile. It looked to be a long night, and something told me it would be one I wouldn't soon forget.

 

2.

 

Hanover Street was completely deserted. The only illumination came from a nearby kitchen and my own flashlight. I found the white door easily -- almost too easily -- and turned the knob. In tretrospect I realize it could easily have been boobytrapped, but in the moment I was preoccupied with other concerns. The door was not locked, but it took a bit of force to open. Once inside the nondescript building, I made my way through the darkness until I arrived at a queen-sized bed.

 

I located a light switch and flicked it on. (This, too, could have proved a fatal mistake, but luck was again on my side.) In the bed lay a man who appeared to be asleep. The only part of him not covered by sheets and blankets was his head, which was itself partly obscured by a black domino mask. His eyes were closed tight and a ball gag covered his mouth.

 

The stranger looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I'd seen him. From the scant evidence I had to work with, I couldn't tell whether he was a fledgling hero or a hardened villain. Was this the man who had summoned me, or an innocent victim of the caller's madness? I lifted the sheet and discovered he was naked but for a pair of fingerless leather gloves. He had the body of an athlete; I hoped the two of us were fighting on the same side, for more than one reason. I held his flaccid cock in my gloved hand for a moment and inspected it for signs of foul play. Not exactly police procedure, but then I'm not exactly a cop, either. I found nothing out of the ordinary.

 

I removed the gag, then produced a Universal Antidote Pill from my belt and tried to insert it between his closed lips. His jaw seemed to be clenched shut, and the only way I could figure out to loosen it was to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Shortly after my lips locked over his, I noticed his eyes opening, and what began as a rescue evolved into something more like a kiss.

 

This in itself was not surprising; in my line of work, I'm used to people I've rescued from some sort of danger expressing their appreciation with phyical affection. Besides, he was an excellent kisser, and as I drew closer to his body I took note of just how handsome he was. I was well aware that I was in a precarious position with a total stranger, but something about the very threat of peril only intensified the electricity of the moment. I didn't know where this encounter was taking me, but I had to find out.

 

3.

 

I straddled his body and allowed the kiss to continue. I felt my cock stirring beneath my briefs, and at the precise moment that I took notice of my arousal, the stranger shifted his weight, carrying the two of us onto our sides. Soon he was on top of me, and before I was fully aware of what was going on, he had pressed one hand over my eyes while the other drew a moist cloth to my nose and mouth.

 

"A little something to help you sleep," he said as I inhaled the fumes. I'd let myself fall for the old chloroformed-hankie routine, but I was already too groggy to care. Whatever was on the handkerchief made me shut my eyes and go limp right away. I didn't completely lose consciousness at first, so I was aware of two hands unbuckling my utility belt and unfastening my cape and pulling them away from my body. I heard the belt land several feet from the edge of the bed, and I remember being rolled onto my back and my hands being cuffed behind my back. The next half-hour or so is still a complete blur.

 

I came to in the same fashion I'd started to revive the stranger less than an hour before, only this time it was he who offered me the antidote pill. He may have patted my face a few times to bring me around -- I can't be sure -- but it took a few moments to regain my awareness of my surroundings.

 

We were still sitting on the bed. Nothing much had changed, except I no longer had the upper hand in the situation -- if, indeed, I'd ever had it since the phone first rang. It was clear that if this man wanted to kill or torture me, he could easily have done so by now. Apparently he had something else in mind, and I continued to play along to find out what that was.

 

He presented me with a shot glass containing a pale-colored liquid and poured it down my throat. I could probably have resisted, but with my hands bound behind my back and my senses still reeling, it seemed wiser to comply. I swallowed the fluid in one gulp and almost immediately began to feel my inhibitions loosening.

 

"Do you remember me yet, Batman?" he asked, removing his mask. I still drew a blank. "I'm your number one fan! I've been following you for months, learning your every move…" I couldn't concentrate on what he was telling me, as I felt the room beginning to spin. The sensation, I must point out, was entirely pleasurable.

 

"In case you're wondering, I've given you something which will make you feel very, very good," he continued. "As long as you do what I say, that is. The minute you try to resist --"

 

I stumbled to my feet and made for the door, as if on command -- only to find myself falling to the floor like a drunk.

 

"--You'll feel EVEN BETTER!" the stranger said with a laugh. "So good, in fact, that you'll only want to stick around." Sure enough, I noticed the escape attempt had my cock grow hard as a rock. I let loose a grunt of satisfaction as I grovelled before my captor.

 

"So whatever you do, Batman, you're in my power now. Believe me, I've waited for this moment a long, long time."

 

 

4.

 

As much as the drug allowed, I searched my memory for earlier encounters with this intriguing individual, but I couldn't place him. How could I have missed him over so long a period? And what could I do now to escape his clutches? Did I even want to?

 

I looked up at the man, who was still naked. He had no weapons and no backup, so what was the harm in indulging his wishes? I sensed the fabric of my uniform brushing against my skin and realized just how at home I felt in his presence. He knealt down beside me and took my face in his hands, drawing it close enough to kiss me once more.

 

By instinct, I tested the strength of the cuffs and tried to pick the lock. The mere attempt was enough to send my attention straight back to the swelling in my crotch.

 

"Got to … escape … but I … can't," I grunted. He laughed as I struggled, and brought one of his gloved hands to the mound in my briefs. His touch was magnetic; I felt even more of my willpower slipping away.

 

Why should I bother to fight back, I wondered. It was fate that had brought me here, and fate that would bind me forever to this beautiful man. I wanted nothing more than to give myself over to him, let him do with me as he wished. No holding back --

 

--NO! I knew I wasn't thinking clearly; I hadn't taken accurate account of the potential danger I was in…

 

He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly, and I sensed my resolve melting before my eyes. I slowly realized he was lifting me to my feet and steering me towards a door. He stood behind me as we walked and didn’t say a word as I let him direct me through a short hallway and down a flight of stairs into a cold basement. He motioned for me to sit in a heavy wooden chair. I took my seat and watched as he spread a sheet on the hard concrete floor. I noticed now that he had brought my utility belt with him; he tossed it on the floor far enough away that I couldn't reach it but close enough that it would serve as a constant temptation ... a test.

 

"I don't think we need these anymore," he said as he unlocked the handcuffs. I eased back into the chair enjoying my freedom until he beckoned me onto the floor. He guided me to lie flat on my stomach with my arms stretched over my head. I felt him pull my outer briefs down toward my ankles, followed by my tights. I heard the slurp of lube squirting out of a bottle and onto his fingers, then felt it cooling the crack of my ass. He was now on top of me, his legs wrapped around my waist and his hands curled under my chest, fondling my nipples. The sensation was phenomenal.

 

"Fuck me," I heard myself beg. The sound of my own voice snapped me out of my stupor just long enough that I tried to push myself up off the floor -- but of course the struggle only triggered a new rush of pleasure.

 

He moved his hands so that they covered my own wrists and held me in place on the floor. I felt something long and stiff working its way into the tenderest part of my butt. "Yesssss," I whispered. "Oh, fuck, YESSSSSSS."

 

A part of me couldn't believe I was saying these things, behaving this way. I tried hard to empower that small questioning voice, but every time I started to clear my head, the drug took stronger hold of me.

 

I could tell the man pinning me down to the ground was about to shoot a load deep inside me, and I wanted that more than anything on earth.

 

 

5.

 

I looked up and saw my utility belt taunting me from several feet away. I felt the cling of my uniform, then tuned my senses to the hands of the man who held me captive. My waist still pinned between his legs as he thrust his cock back and forth in my butthole, he loosened his grip on my wrists. I waited to see where his hands would land next. The anticipation was electrifying. I had lost all sense of time and responsibility, and I didn't care in the least.

 

I smelled the warm leather of his gloves brushing against my chin and tracing the outline of my cowl. When his fingers reached the rim of my mask, I seized the opportunity to shift my weight and drop him to the floor. I straddled him; I was in control of the situation --

 

-- and all thought of escape vanished immediately. I reached for his lube and slathered a handful on my own cock, then wedged it between his legs and started pumping away.

 

"Do it," he commanded. "Fuck me with every ounce of strength you've got, Batman."

 

Batman: the name struck something deep in my brain. I can't let him do this to me, I thought. I'm Batman. I answer to no one.

 

Still, the sensation of my cock plunging in and out of his asshole felt too good to resist. I stared down at the bare flesh of the handsome stranger beneath me. He seemed more than ever to be the most beautiful man I'd ever seen, and I wrapped my gloved hands around each of his nipples and pinched them tight while I intensified the pace of my thrusts.

 

"I … love … you," I heard myself whisper against my better judgment. "Why did you wait so long to capture me?" I caught my breath and felt my hips thrusting back and forth like a perpetual motion machine. I couldn't stop myself even if I wanted to. "I'll … do anything … you say…"

 

During the course of my career I'd faced deathtraps of the most heinous sort, I'd confronted villains who'd tried to break me, I'd known tortures without name -- but nothing I'd confronted so far was anything like this. It suddenly became clear to me -- at least as "clear" as the drug would allow -- that I had nothing to fear from this man; that the way to freedom and enlightenment was to let go of all my inhibitions and follow wherever he led me.

 

"Are you close?" the stranger said as we both felt my muscles tighten in a telltale signal of approaching release.

 

"Y-y-yes," I groaned. He started to raise himself off the ground, knocking me off his back and onto the floor. My cock now expelled from his ass, I brought my right hand to my cock and redirected my thrusting without a pause. The naked man slipped one hand under my tunic and rubbed the hard leather of his glove over my tender nipple until I could barely control myself. His other hand moved slowly and sensuously across my chest, up to my shoulder, my neck, and finally to one of the ear points on my mask.

 

He began to give it a gentle tug. "Let it out," he said. "Let it all out."

 

 

6.

 

My free hand moved toward his bare chest, but I bumped it on a piece of furniture. The unexpected jolt brought me back to sobriety for another fleeting second. I knew in a flash what the man was up to, and there was no way I could allow him to continue. To do so would mean the end of my life's work as a crimefighter.

 

With a great deal of effort, I managed to stop what I was doing and catch my breath. I relaxed my grip on my cock and used the same hand to grab the arm of the stranger and pull it away from my head.

 

The stranger smiled and casually stroked his own member as he watched me trying to bring myself up to my feet and regain my composure. The effort was fruitless, of course, and my struggle was rewarded with an even bigger erection than before.

 

Crawling on all floors, I pounded the floor with my fist and howled in what must have sounded to an outsider like agony.

 

"Feels real good, doesn't it?" he said, smirking.

 

And I was stunned to acknowledge finally that he was right: the feeling was more intense than any I'd ever experienced, and not in a way that could easily be classified as positive or negative, pain or pleasure. I was starting to convince myself -- or perhaps the drug was doing all the work -- that I was on the verge of transcendence, that if I could only let go of my stubborn attachment to secrecy and the illusion of control, I would push myself into unexplored territory. I'd spent years hiding behind a mask, playing a role, avenging a crime committed decades earlier. I could free myself from all of that with a man who apparently loved me enough to offer me a gateway into a whole new world. He wasn't trying to break me, he was helping to make me whole. He'd done nothing to hurt me, he'd committed no crime: so why did I continue to fear him as an enemy? What was I running away from? What did I have to lose?

 

It was time to find out.

 

 

7.

 

"Listen," I said, trying hard to regain the menacing tone I use in my guise as Batman. "I know what you're trying to do, and I'm willing to let you do it -- on one condition."

 

"What's that?" the stranger asked, teasingly. It was clear to both of us that I was in no condition to be cutting deals, but he seemed to relish the chance to humor me.

 

"In my belt there's a capsule. If you take it, I will show you the man I am beneath this mask."

 

To my surprise, he appeared to be taking my offer seriously. "What exactly will it do?" he asked.

 

I told the truth. "The capsule is harmless; after you've had your way with me, you'll drift off to sleep. When you wake up in the morning, I'll be gone and you'll remember nothing of the last few hours. Whatever you manage to recall will appear to be a dream."

 

The stranger continued massaging his cock as he mulled over my words.

 

Dear god, let him say yes, I told myself as I fought off the impulse to tend to my own erection just yet. I realized that it had been a good five minutes since I'd either attempted an escape or received a retaliatory burst of lust. Seconds after this revelation, it dawned on me that I already sorely missed the second of these sensations. Could the drug be losing its hold on me, or was it simply reaching a new stage of effectiveness?

 

The stranger's eventual reply snapped me out of my reverie. "It's a deal," he said. "We'll move back to the bed upstairs. I'm going to cuff you again while we relocate. Just a precaution."

 

"I think the drug is wearing off," I heard myself blurting out. "I need a new dose." I couldn't believe I was saying this out loud. Could the treatment be so highly addictive that it had the power to make me beg for more?

 

"That can be arranged," he said, handcuffing my hands behind my back once more. "Now move."

 

8.

 

When we made our way to the bed, the stranger presented me with a second glass of the liquid, unlocked the cuffs and pushed me backward onto the mattress. I felt a new flush of wooziness almost immediately and decided to test the drug's effectiveness by putting up a struggle. By this point it was impossible to tell when I was acting from free will and when I was following the wishes of the drug or the man who'd given it to me. And to be honest, I no longer cared. I felt like I'd fallen  -- or jumped? -- down a deep hole from which there was no longer any chance of escape, and I resolved to enjoy the ride.

 

I was, in the parlance of the thugs I usually battle, stoned.

 

A huge grin came over my face. My limbs felt like rubber, the walls of the room wobbled and spun around me, and even though I was dimly aware of the beautiful stranger -- my saviour! -- tying me down to the bed somehow, I didn't even bother to put up a show of resistance. It was crystal clear to me that he was doing this -- doing all of this -- for one reason only: because I wanted it. I needed it. I loved it. I loved HIM. If I was under his control now, that was exactly where I wanted to be. If I'd made some huge error of judgment and he turned out to be a murderer, that was fine by me now. Anything that felt this incredibly good had to be trusted.

 

I looked up from my stupor and saw my lover contemplating his next move. The words that came out of my mouth seemed to speak themselves. "Put your mask back on. Masks turn me on."

 

He did so, and my cock grew even stiffer. I continued talking him through the scene, half-convinced that the instructions I spoke were really his.

 

"Kneel over me, by my head. Jerk yourself off. "

 

He remained silent and did what I said. I could barely breathe as I watched him pour lube on his cock, cup it in his leather gloves, and go to work.

 

"Let it drip … onto my mask and my face," I whispered, no longer clear who was in charge and no longer concerned. Heroes? Villains? What difference did it make? I closed my eyes and waited for my reward.

 

9.

 

It came -- HE came -- one drop at a time. I heard the first one hit my mask between my left eyehole and my ear, landing hard like the first raindrop on a roof. I'll never forget that sound as long as I live, my senses magnified and distorted as they were by the drug. Or the salty smell, or the sensation of heat so warm I thought for a minute it might melt through my mask.

 

I felt a second drop, then a third and then I lost count as they splashed all over my forehead, cheeks, nose, lips, neck, chest … I was convinced I was drenched, drowning -- until his two gloved hands descended on me to smear the residue all over my face and torso. My own right hand moved as if by silent command to my fully aroused penis and I gave it the attention it had been craving all night long.

 

I was almost there.

 

"Take my cowl in your hands. Hold it by the ears. I'll tell you when I'm about to come, and then you pull it off me, okay?"

 

The stranger said nothing as he did what I told him. My hand slid up and down my shaft with increasing speed and pressure. It wouldn't be long now…

 

The very fact that I'd walked straight into this situation, that even now I was not only obeying a total stranger but helping him carry out his unthinkable mission -- none of that bothered me at all. Instead, it only served to heighten the intensity of the scene. I was trusting this man like I'd never trusted anyone before. I'd like to say I gave myself one more chance to resist, but the simple truth is that I had already turned a corner from which there was no esca--

 

"NOW!!!!!!" I shouted as a gusher of come spewed forth. At precisely the same moment, I felt my mask being lifted up and away from my naked face. No hiding place now: in a flash, I realized I had never been more vulnerable -- or more powerful -- in my entire life.

 

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggghhhhhhhhhhh," I sighed. It felt like a great weight had been lifted from my body, my spirit, my soul. I was free now, and I knew in one instant that whatever might happen next, I was ready for it.

 

 

THE END (for now)