Babsy’s Boobies on the Barbie

Copyright 2017 Matt Nicholson. All rights reserved.

Hard BDSM Warning! We’re talking about the Batman family here, folks — and Harley Quinn having her way with Batgirl is definitely going to get rough, at least in my book. So, if fairly extreme BDSM fantasy isn’t your thing — especially in a breast punishing sort of way — you might want to go find a different story. On the other hand, if you get the difference between real life and fantasy and enjoy such things, read on. Either way, I’d love to hear what you think. Best! ~Matt~

*

The war was not quite a month old. It started after Bruce had accidentally killed the Joker in the abandoned amusement park on Gotham’s east side. Until that day, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy had been mostly neutral in the ongoing conflict between Batman and Gotham’s various villains. In fact, Batgirl and Harley Quinn had actually worked together a couple of times. But, when Barbara heard about Joker’s death, she had worried that the loss of “Mistah. J” might push Harleen back over the edge.

She was right. Harley had always skirted the razor’s edge, and — though any relationship she’d had with the Joker had long since devolved into figments of her overly active imagination — his passing at The Dark Knight’s hands pushed her into waging war on the entire Bat-family. She not only brought her lover, Poison Ivy into the fight with her, but the rest of Batman’s Rogue’s Gallery seemed to have followed along just for kicks. Barbara felt it was her responsibility to bring the Joker’s girlfriend in before someone else was killed.

But, everything about the bust had gone wrong. From Nightwing and Red Hood being delayed by an outbreak of mass panic that likely involved Scarecrow, to her own decision to start the surveillance without them, to Black Canary’s insistence that they split up to cover more ground, to Huntress’ backing Dinah’s call.

It was supposed to have been Dick, Jason, Dinah, Helena, and Barbara working as a team. But Dick and Jason never showed, and — now three hours in — she had no idea what happened to Huntress and Canary. Considering the apparent effort that had gone into luring Barbara into the trap, she figured both women were in similar trouble. All Batgirl knew was her decision to chase Harley while the others went after Ivy was likely the worse mistake of them all.

It had been less then fifteen seconds since she’d walked into the trap. The hiss of gas was only getting louder while falling boxes and pallets still settled across the alley, obstructing her path. The decrepit balconies above her were likely to collapse under her weight, which ruled out moving up. And the brick wall blocking the alley behind her was going nowhere. With the green mist rising up around her, she reached desperately for the gas mask in her utility belt. She wished she’d have listened to her gut.

Barbara’s fingers fumbled at the pocket’s flap, but she couldn’t make them grip. The ringing in her ears got louder in time with the growing number of white spots she saw. She didn’t want to drop to her knees, but her legs made that choice for her.

Knowing it was her only chance, Batgirl dove face first to the ground and tried to hold her breath. Ignoring the pain from the dirty gravel grinding into her exposed breasts and belly, she hoped the light breeze would dissipate the gas drifting from wherever it was coming from before she passed out.

It was the second trap she’d fallen for since Harley had turned the hunt around. As flashbacks of the Joker, gun drawn and standing in her apartment’s door, started messing with her mind, she prayed she wouldn’t end up even worse off than she’d been after his killing joke had ended. There were worse things than being wheelchair bound.

She fought the ringing, white spots, and nightmare memories by trying to think through the events that brought her to the dirty alley in which she sprawled. They had almost caught her earlier. In fact, Harley and she had come face-to-face while Harley’s henchmen held Barbara against a wall after catching her in another blind alley.

But face-to-face had been the break she needed. While beaming like a little girl with new toys, Harley had given Barbara a surprisingly passionate kiss while ripping the batsuit from her neck down to her pubic hair. Everyone’s eyes, Harley’s included, moved like a cartoon character’s as they followed Batgirl’s nipples up and down at the tips of her jiggling breasts. The Joker’s girlfriend had no sooner giggled “Oooh, look at the pretties!” when Barbara head-butted her and twist free.

Moving quickly, she’d crippled one of Harley Quinn’s lackeys with a foot to the back of the knee, and then she got a break when another minion lost his pistol while still ogling her swaying breasts. She took him out with an elbow to the jaw and then spun a batarang into the head of a scrawny tattooed kid with a limp.

When his pistol’s hammer fell on an empty chamber, the last of that bunch rushed her. He managed to wrap a chain around her neck and take her back down, but the distraction of naked boobs only inches from his face was too much for him, too. Deciding she was beyond good-guy decorum, especially given her uniform’s state, she ruptured his testicles with a heel.

While he hunched over, she pulled herself back up and watched him puke. Once she’d let him have a last eyeful of excitement-hardened nipples, she took him down with a two-by-four across the skull. By then, Harley had ducked around one corner or the other to rally the rest of her troops with promises of Batgirl body parts to whomever caught her.

Knowing she was in over her head, Barbara ran off to find her partners — with a half dozen or more rabid henchman in pursuit. Probably figuring she’d hit the alley and then climb the falling chain link fence behind the abandoned Tom Thumb; Harley, Sam and Dean had flanked left and run down the south side of the building. Though they weren’t quite as nice to look at their namesakes, Barbara liked putting names to faces, and visions of the Winchester brothers somehow made what the henchmen planned sound more enjoyable.

In any case, the others had gone right, leaving Barbara with no place to run. She started down the left side of the building and turned into a second dead end alley. It was then that the second trap had sprung.

Having rehashed the events until then, she was surprised to find that the gas was no longer lingering. The ringing in her ears was growing fainter, and her vision was good enough to risk standing again. Swearing to herself that she’d study this part of town better before her next outing, she climbed up onto shaky legs and looked at the pile of boxes in her way. Raucous cries and noisy tromping told her Harley’s cannibal crew was getting closer.

There was no way she’d get away, she was still too woozy, and her options were too limited. She’d given them a good run. She considered using the environment to her benefit, stand her ground, and fight, but she was in no condition to win another fight. Still, she looked down at her grit encrusted, swaying breasts and thought about what might be in store for them — and the rest of her — if she got caught. There were worse things that could happen.

After years in a skin-tight batsuit dealing with the darkest examples of humanity known, even the wholesome Batgirl’s sensibilities had grown somewhat dark. Though it hadn’t yet become girl-talk in the Watchtower or the Batcave, sexual satisfaction for her, the other Birds of Prey, and many of the other women-in-spandex, often came with a dose of bondage and pain.

From what she’d seen, the same held true for the guys. Word had it that Jason Todd was all but brutal with the right girls. Even whitebread Dick Grayson enjoyed some creativity, as he euphemistically called it — as she well knew. He certainly had his kinky side with her. Outside if her circle, some of the rumors that spread about Bruce and Selina and their breakfasts in bed made her toes curl. She’d even heard about a time when Superman and Wonder Woman had destroyed part of the Justice League’s satellite during a sadomasochistic romp after he’d been dosed with red kryptonite.

In fact, the irony didn’t escape her that it had been Dr. Harleen Quinzel herself who published an article in the American Journal of Psychology that suggested that many of the high profile vigilantes and villains who were part of the super-world were endorphin addicts. Harley believed endorphin addiction accounted for both a greater desire to engage in hands-on combat as well as a craving to be on the receiving side of the whip, as it were. Still operating as Oracle at the time she’d read it, Barbara had found the article fascinating — and disturbingly on track.

In any case, work was violent, so play had become the same. If the heroes liked it rough, she only imagined what the villains enjoyed. Truthfully, Harley’s henchmen might be pretty useful in that regard. Using a little masochistic fun as a lure to get them to lower their guard while the rest of the Bat-family swooped in sounded like just the ticket. Still, she’d have to make it look good. After ripping her top open a little more, she turned back to business.

Once she’d cleared her way through enough of the fallen debris to climb out of the alley, she took off again. She rounded the first corner on the right. A couple of Harley’s henchmen almost ran smack into her. She stopped abruptly and spun to dash the other way, only to find Harley and the Winchesters behind her. She bit back a smile. It was time to make it look good.

As Sam reached for her arm, Barbara twisted and brought her knee up hard. A sickening thud echoed down the alley. He dropped with a muffled groan. It was a shame she had to take him out. He was the most handsome of the men, with dark, close-cropped hair and lots of muscle — football jockesque in an unshaven sort of way. He’d probably be the best in bed, but he was also the most dangerously brutal. Sadistic was one thing. “Dangerously brutal” was another.

While Sam groped his balls and retched, Dean grabbed her cape and yanked her sideways by it. She was reaching up to snap it loose when he snagged a handful of her long, red hair. Pulling with that hand, he quickly twisted her arm until she lost her balance. Even then, he was gentler, as if he’d given up being an artist or poet and had recently chosen hunting super-heroines with Harley Quinn for sport. She still may have been able to get away, but several guns had found their way into the mix. Unfortunately, none of them were hers.

Harley waited until Batgirl was off-balance and then took her down with a surprisingly fast leg sweep. Barbara was face down, tits grinding on the pavement and her arms pinned behind her, before her first scream signaled to the rest of her pursuers that the hunt was over.

They quickly tied her wrists and feet and then rolled her over. Besides being dirty and scratched, Barbara knew she was nice enough to look at, probably distractingly so. At that point, her looks would be the only distraction she’d have that might help her out of her bind. Her torn suit covered her long, muscular legs and showed off a firm, round bottom, especially appealing through another big tear. Aside from the parts protected by her bikini, swimming at the Wayne Manor Olympic pool had left everything else an even, golden tan.

Ignoring her struggling and angry cries, Dean reached for Barbara’s cowl. Harley frowned and slapped the henchman’s hand. “That’s no way to treat a lady! She’d be naked without her mask.” She leaned close to Barbara’s ear and whispered, “Us masked girls have got ta get each other’s backs, huh, Babsy?”

With the matter of the cowl suddenly settled, Harley reached down into her own ample cleavage for a knife and giggled. “Mistah J always said ‘The way to a girl’s heart is through her cunt.” Her grin got even wider. “And baby could he find my heart!” She dropped to her knees beside Barbara and trailed the knife’s tip up the dark grey cloth covering her crotch. She pushed just hard enough that Barbara felt it. “I kinda think the same’s true for boys, though through their cock… but, well, everyone else says the way to a boy’s heart is through his belly…”

She paused and grabbed the long tear at its lowest point, running her fingers through Barbara’s red pubic curls as she did. She bounced playfully on her knees like an excited little girl. “So, since we have so many boys and just a couple of us girls, I’m thinkin’ we can do all three!”

The knife ripped down, splitting the bodysuit until Batgirl’s pussy was as exposed as her breasts. Harley bounced on her knees some more. “Babsy, what do you think? Cunts, cocks and bellies?”

Reasoning with Harleen was like herding cats, but Barbara had to try for effect. “Harley, this isn’t a good…”

With a brutal yank, Harley ripped a strip of cloth from the suit. “You can’t say ‘no,’ Babs!” She twisted the strip into a makeshift gag and pressed it between Barbara’s teeth. “We’re going to have SO much fun!”

As Barbara struggled and griped into the gag, Harley made short work of the rest of the bottom half of Barbara’s bodysuit, tearing it loose and tossing it aside as if the reinforced fabric was just a minor annoyance. Sam crawled nearer, angrily wrapping his fingers in the remains of what had covered Batgirl’s left breast. With a vicious, flesh-burning tug, he ripped it off and stuffed it into his pocket as a souvenir.

While Dean tied the gag more securely, Harley went back to watching Barbara’s breasts bounce. The tan lines drew even more attention to the mounds’ whiteness, and the slight breeze made them tighten with goose pimples. It also pulled her areola into stiff, crinkled circles tipped with hard, pebbled, reddish-purple nipples. Barbara thought they looked a lot like ripe raspberries, though that was something she hoped none of her present company considered.

But, as if she had read Barbara’s mind, Harley Quinn furrowed her brow and acted like she was listening to someone. “What was that? Looks like they’ll taste great with whipped cream?” She winked at Barbara again and yelled, “Great idea, Babs! Someone go find some whipped cream… No! Wait! Make it honey! If you’ve never had raspberries with honey, you’re missin’ out.”

One of the henchmen dashed off while Harley and the others stripped Barbara the rest of the way. Once Batgirl was completely naked, Harleen ran her palms up over Barbara’s breasts. Then, as if suddenly inspired, she screamed at the figure growing smaller in the distance, “Get a lot of it!” She squeezed the full mounds hard and winked at Barbara while licking her lips. “Waste not, want not!”

Barbara knew that before they “wasted not,” there were a few more entertaining things they would use her for first.

After tearing her gaze from Barbara’s jiggling flesh. Harley let Dean start lifting their prey by the arms. Harley took Batgirl’s cape as a trophy and wrapped its collar with a flourish around her neck. Then the red, black, white and now gold-clad woman helped in the lifting by snagging Barbara’s nipples and pulling her to her feet with a brutal twisting tug.

“Upsy daisy!” She smiled when Batgirl let out a clipped squeal. “Sorry, Babs. No pain, no gain.”

Once Barbara was up, Dean slung her over his shoulder like a sack of grain, exposing her bottom to the sun. When she started kicking, Sam took his first shot at getting even, slapping an open palm across her bare rear hard enough to leave a well-defined, beat red handprint.

After enduring another, even more painful, swat, Barbara stopped kicking. Since Sam had made it known during their chase that her ass was his — literally — when they won, she could only imagine what new plans he had in mind for it after having taken her knee to the testicles. She only hoped Dean’s take, her pussy — which bulged plump between his fingers as he closed a hand over it — would fare a little better.

Looking back over her shoulder, Barbara saw Harley watch her tits flattened against Dean’s back. The semi-crazy woman obviously enjoyed the fleshy shifts and bulges as their prey bounced against her captor’s muscles. The look in Harley’s eyes, and the very obvious thick points showing through the fronts of her skin-tight harlequin suit, told Barbara everything she needed to know. Harley was just nuts enough to mean more than just some enthusiastic sucking when she talked about honey-covered nipples.

Thirty minutes later, they were up on the roof of the abandoned county hospital they’d made into their base. Barbara hung horizontally by her wrists and ankles, stretched face up like a human “X” from an abandoned crane. Besides feeling the wind tickle her nipples hard, tease her pussy’s wet folds, and blow her long, red hair beneath her, she had nothing to do but wait. Hanging waist-high and spread-eagle left everything easy to get to, which gave her something to look forward — as long as she didn’t pay attention to the low fire crackling only a few feet away.

Until then, they’d done an admirable job of keeping her occupied. They’d soaped her up and hosed her off, being especially careful to thoroughly clean her boobs, bottom, and pussy. She had no delusions that the thoroughness had much to do with being cleaned. Once she sparkled, they massaged her from neck to ankles with extra-virgin olive oil while making the obvious comments.

The banter about how much fun she was going to be to fuck and play with was all good. It even made her a little horny. If she weren’t distracted by the fact that she was waiting on her partners to rescue her and take out Harley and the gang at any moment, it probably would have even made her a lot horny. It wouldn’t be the first time that the bad guys had taken advantage of her — though it had been several years since the rookie days when being taken advantage of wasn’t always by choice.

Unfortunately, Harley’s spirited banter had about how good Barbara’s various parts were going to pair up with chianti tended to be a little unsettling, especially when she’d named the main course “Babsy’s Boobies on the Barbie.” While the cleaning and oiling had been enjoyable in its brutality, avoiding Harley’s sudden fetish for Batgirl-baking while still enjoying the other fringe benefits was starting to sound like it might be a challenge.

For the moment, she had nothing else to do but enjoy the ride, so Barbara settled into doing just that. Dean was standing between her wide-spread thighs, removing the last of her curly red pussy hair to the sound of Harleen’s slightly off-key singing. He’d also been getting off on toying with her slippery folds and fingering her clit. Apparently, he’d made something of a game of it, diddling, teasing and deep-fingering her until she’d gasp or moan, then going back to shaving while she hung in sexual frustration.

Barbara really didn’t care if he was being nice, enjoying the power, or acting on the assumption that a horny, moaning victim was easier to tolerate than a struggling, screaming one. The fact that she’d come close to having an orgasm a couple of time was a little disturbing. The fact that she came even closer after Harley started “tenderized” her glistening body with a horsehair whip while singing Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” was even more unsettling.

By the time Quinn began the third strain of the song, a myriad of livid, hair fine, red welts covered Barbara’s front side. Especially well-prepped were her flat belly and her thighs. Only her well-washed breasts, bottom and labia — the parts Harley should have enjoyed whipping the most, had been horsehair-deprived. If pressed, Barbara would have had to admit that she was a little disappointed about that deprivation.

As for the boys, though Dean seemed to be enjoying his day, Sam was still pissed as hell about getting cracked in the nuts. Barbara was a little pissed about that, too, given that Sam was one of the ones she’d really wanted to completely take out of the picture. In any case, Harley found a job that seemed to placate him a bit.

After rounding him up and bringing him back over to their captive, she gave him a playful noogie. “Can’t have a good barbeque without tenderizing the meat, can we?” She poked the nearest of Barbara’s breasts at the same time that she tapped the henchman’s wide belt. “So I saved the best for my widdle ball-busted baby boy.”

Sam’s demeanor seemed to perk up once he figured out what the boss had said. The fact that Harley was willing to leave the tit torture job to Sam worried Barbara a bit. The woman’s infatuation with her breasts was an important part of Barbara’s somewhat poorly-formed plan for being more their temporary sex-slave and less their main course. Harleen’s pawning it off on an underling wasn’t the best of signs no matter how rough Barbara might like her boobs played with.

Despite that, the sight of Sam’s wide leather belt snapping from his belt loops made Barbara’s lower belly tighten, and not in a bad way. She expected him to take a bit of time. He had two tits to choose from, after all. He’d have to pick a target and aim. But Dean barely had time to yank the razor back from Barbara’s pussy before Sam lashed up and around from the hip. The brutal smack landed squarely across both of Barbara’s chilled nipples, making her full tits bounce wildly.

Barbara cried out in surprise and then struggled like an animated puppet connected at the wrists and ankles to rope-sized strings. Panting past the pain, she couldn’t help but glance at Dean, hoping he’d get back to her pussy. This kind of punishment was far more tolerable when it came with benefits.

Instead, Dean glared at Sam. “Hold on, you son of a bitch! If I cut her cunt because of you, I’ll take this goddam razor to your throat.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, moron. After we fuck her into a goddamn coma, you’re gonna go to town on the damn thing anyway, what does a little razor cut matter?”

Harley ran her fingers back through her long blonde ponytails and acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. “I see a little silhouetto of a man. Scaramouch, scaramouch will you do the fandango?”

As she worked through thunderbolts and lightning, Harley grabbed one of Barbara’s oily breasts and sunk her fingernails in hard enough to maintain her grip. Ignoring their captive’s muffled groans, the smaller woman ground the cooking oil into the bare nipple and areola. Grinning broadly, she nodded from side to side as if listening to music inside her head while obviously enjoying the feel of Barbara’s tight, rubbery flesh sliding and squeezing between her fingers.

“Boys! Play nice. It matters ’cause Babsy’s pretty snatch is his when we’re all done playin’ with it. So he can save it however he wants. You agreed. Her pretty titties are mine, her pretty pussy is his, and her pretty tushie is yours. It’s not our fault you can’t have yours until later.” She slapped Barbara’s right breast. “That’s why I’m sharin’ my playtime with you.”

Sam frowned and nodded. “Yeah…okay.”

Harley grinned again and then looked a little confused. “Now, where was I?” She looked back at Barbara. “Oh, yeah…”

Harley switched from mauling just Barbara’s nipples to her entire breasts, kneading and crushing them in her hands. “I’m just a poor boy. Nobody loves me…”

Barbara closed her eyes, gritting her teeth against the dull pain. She wished Dean would stop bitching and get back to work.

“He’s just a poor boy from a poor family…”

 

While Harley watched the oiled mound bulge and shift between her fingers, Dean re-wetted Barbara’s snatch with oil and started shaving again.

Once Harley had thoroughly kneaded Barbara’s tits, she tossed Dean a half-full teddy bear-shaped bottle of honey. “Here, you keep Babsy happy. Make sure she moans a lot. Moaning is good for the soul.”

She took the belt from Sam’s hand. “Now, girlfriend, we’re about ta get real close. An’, like I told Ivy once, ‘There’s a price for gettin’ close ta someone.'”

As Dean squished a dollop of honey over Barbara’s pussy, Harley raised the belt high.

“It’s a great feelin’, but sometimes it gives ya a bad bellyache.”

Barbara watched, eyes wide, her nipples getting harder and her pussy clenching in anticipation, as the muscles beneath Harley’s chalk-white skin tensed.

“Ya just gotta hope the good feelin’s win over the bellyache, right? Or, in your case, the boobyache.”

When Dean dove in, Harley snapped the belt across the underside of her captive’s left breast. The leather strap wrapped around the plump mound and drove it almost to Barbara’s chin. Since Dean had wasted no time indulging himself in honey-covered pussy pie, Barbara’s squeal was only partially from pain.

When Harley drew back, tiny red droplets welled down two parallel lines where the belt’s edges had buried. Harley drew a fingertip over one of the lines and licked it. “’19 Batgirl Cabernet, what a great year!”

Once Barbara’s moan faded and she’d settled into a desperate pant, Harley handed the belt back to its owner. “Let’s make some more vino! If you bruised either of those pretty berries, though, Momma Harley’s gonna have some calf fries, but they won’t be from a calf…” Her gaze trailed down to Sam’s crotch. “If ya know what I mean.”

Breathing hard, Barbara watched Sam raise the belt. Just as she readied herself for the blow, Dean’s teeth raked across her labia and closed on her clit, pinching hard. Distracted by an intense combination of pain and pleasure rolling back through her belly, she was caught completely off guard when the belt struck just below her areola.

Her breast’s white flesh rolled around the belt’s edges, as if trying to swallow the strap, then it rippled away from the blow. He followed through by dragging the belt across her tit to make sure it made more “Batgirl Cabernet.”

Barbara bucked, acting as if it was pain that made her roll her pussy against Dean’s face. She rolled in a wave, pulling her hips back down on his gaping mouth and thrusting her tits out for the next blow. Dean sucked honey from her inner lips as the next belting landed across the top of her breasts, just above the nipples.

Instead of watching the show, Harley walked back to the fire. Since Barbara’s plan — what there was of it — involved keeping Harley interested enough in playing with Batgirl’s goods that she might slip up, Barbara knew she had to find a way to keep the unstable gang leader’s attention. Since the gag kept her from being able to cry out, “Oh, God, please whip me some more,” Barbara moaned and did her best to convey pure sex in the sound. Distracted by the effort, she didn’t see Sam targeting her nipples.

He lashed the belt down, driving the excited nubs down into her breasts. She hissed and then bucked violently against Dean’s mouth. Having already latched onto a fat outer labia, the sudden jerk made him bite harder than he’d planned. His teeth gouged into the left side of her pussy and made her moan even more. She was still gasping for breath as Sam glanced back at Harley. When he was sure she wasn’t watching, he deliberately belted Barbara’s nipples again.

To his credit, Dean redoubled his efforts, devouring flesh with his lips and tongue. Since the “devouring” was figurative for the time being, it did the trick. Combined with a now rhythmic tit whipping that let her find a focus, the tingling in her pussy quickly grew, and her inner belly began to clench. By the time either of them realized Dean had drawn blood, another nipple-buckling lash set off her orgasm.

Realizing their playtoy was coming, both men doubled down. Dean indulged in some of the best cunnilingus Barbara had enjoyed from a henchman, and Sam beat her breasts a bruised but fiery red. She was still gasping and writhing in a blend of anguish and pleasure when Dean’s loud, “Well, mother-fucker!” resounded across the roof. Apparently, even his own bite drawing blood from Barbara’s pristine labia pissed him off.

Having stoked the fire into a crackling blaze, Harley grabbed a long, steel two-pronged barbeque fork and walked back to their “meal.” By then, Barbara’s orgasm was tapering down, though the pain was still as fresh as ever. She barely managed to focus through her tears to see Sam had thoroughly decorated her tits with an impressive criss-cross of welts, some bleeding, others not quite.

When Harley got a good look at Barbara’s abused breasts, she did a sudden snap to and saluted with the long fork in her hand. “Oh say can you see!” She licked her lips. “Talk about making a gal feel patriotic.”

Barbara had no clue what Harley was talking about until she took another look. They did look vaguely patriotic, with a mix of mottled blue bruises and parallel lines of glistening red droplets adorning her white flesh.

“But they could use a little more blue right there…” She prodded the underside of Barbara’s left breast with the fork and then jabbed the same place on the right. “…and there!” Harley watched Sam get off a final lash that buckled Barbara’s boobs exactly as ordered. She waited until they settled before she edged him aside.

“So, Babsy. Now that the girl bits have been tenderized, I bet you’re really ready ta get the prepped.”

Barbara shook her head and tried to talk around the gag, but the movement and garbled noise only spurred her captor on.

“Ya want us ta really prep ya good? Yeah, me too! We’re like mind-readin’ sisters!” She glanced at Dean. “Ready, Freddie?”

Dean raised a horsehair whip and waited until Harley was ready. Barbara steeled herself for the lash when Harley snagged the base of her left nipple with her fingernails.

“On your mark…”

She leaned so close to Barbara’s face that her sweet smelling breath felt warm on her cheek. “Get set…”

Without warning, she dug her nails in so hard they carved slivers from of the thick flesh. “Go!”

Dean slung the whip around in an overhand arc.

Barbara grabbed the ropes that stretched her wrists to the crane and pulled, arching her hips up. She spread her thighs wider and exposed more of the moist folds between them to the fine horsehair. The wet slap stung, and the long hair found its way between her swollen folds. But the stinging blow just made her gasp and her swollen clit tingle more. By the time the long bundle of hair came around a third time, she met each lash with a forward pussy thrust and a groan. With as much pain-control training as she had, the whip-burning was more than offset by another wave of growing desire.

Struggling to make every lash count, Barbara only noticed Harley snag her left nipple in as much as the pain added to the pleasure. She paid little attention to the plastic zip tie closing around the tip of her tit at her thick areola’s outer edge. It wasn’t until the deceptively strong woman yanked the tie tight, tugging until she couldn’t get it to click any more, that Barbara’s bound flesh vied for more attention than her whipped pussy.

By then, Dean had spanked Barbara’s crotch to a swollen, beet-red. A couple lashes later, Harley finished zip-tying the other side. Barbara had no idea what Harley planned to do with the balls of bound nipple and areola, but she had no doubt Harley could make a couple of zip ties entertaining.

Barbara was on the verge of another orgasm when Dean stopped to admire his handiwork. She screamed in frustration then whimpered and rolled her hips, all but begging him to finish. She stopped in mid-rotation when she saw the pretty gang leader with a big grilling fork in her hand. By then, both choked tips had become dark red, throbbing, balls.

“Wow, Babs! Look… they’re not raspberries anymore, they’re strawberries! Nice ones! Hell, these’d win a blue ribbon at the county fair.”

Barbara supposed she was lucky Harley didn’t have larger ties or she’d be squealing about the prize-winning melons.

“Where’s that honey?!”

Getting blank looks from her henchmen, Harley ran off to find the bear bottle while Dean went back to work. After quickly toweling Barb’s pussy off, he went after it with an oil-soaked basting brush. Barbara’s ‘strawberries’ were turning more of a purple color. They were beginning to feel cooler than normal — and a little numb.

The only thing that let her know they were still pre-gangrene was the mad pinging burn where the plastic tourniquets choked them. Even so, she knew even that would deaden to a stinging tingle, and then to numbness soon enough. How they’d feel beyond that…well, she really didn’t think her captors planned on a “beyond that.”

Even so, it wasn’t long before the henchman between her legs had her horny enough to start grinding her crotch against the brush. She tried to control her panting and moaning so it looked as if he wasn’t doing as good a job as he really was. If he knew how close she was coming, she was afraid he’d stop again, just to be cruel.

It wasn’t much longer before Harley came back. Giggling and licking her lips, she dolloped honey over both of Barbara’s bound nipples. “Dessert should always go first.” With that, she bent over Barbara’s right breast and sucked the entire ball between her lips. Barbara couldn’t help but close her eyes at the delicious combination of soothing relief and erotic delight Harley’s mouth provided.

After she’d sucked and licked most of the honey from between the wrinkles, Harley winked at Barbara and then took a wicked bite. It wasn’t enough to break the skin, but it sent a thrill of pain through Barbara’s breast that let her know she’d severely over-estimated just how numb she was. Combined with Dean’s deliberately clit bristling, Barbara’s orgasm exploded like a volcano. She panted like a woman in labor as he worked her pussy with the buttered brush. She wanted to scream at Harley to use her damned teeth while she could take it, but she needn’t have worried. After grabbing Barbara’s left breast in a brutal squeeze, the smaller woman did an exaggerated lip-licking and then bit into the very center of the ball.

Sharp pain lanced straight through Barbara’s breast to her butter-basted pussy, making her womb clench even harder. She rolled herself against the brush, which Dean pressed obligingly. Harley sucked and tongued Barbara’s throbbing nipple long enough for the pain to ebb. Just as Barbara was starting to relax into the enthusiastic suckling, Harley bit her again, this time almost hard enough to draw blood. Barbara bit back a scream even as she pushed her chest into Harley’s face and thrust her pussy against the brush, letting the pain flow and mingle with the contractions and tingling.

By the time Harley had left both nipple balls throbbing and well-chewed, Barbara was hanging limp, her long orgasm finally played out. She gasped for air, and her shoulders and hips were almost as sore from hanging and writhing as her pussy and nipples were from Harley’s and Dean’s attention.

She could barely focus her eyes on the tips of her breasts, now a choked, deep purple that hid whatever bruises Harley’s biting was certain to have caused. She should have been bothered that they didn’t hurt worse than they did — a sure sign that the lost circulation was taking a toll — but she was much too numbed by the overall result to care.

Once she stopped inspecting her breasts, she saw Dean rubbing his crotch, obviously ready for some action. Harley, on the other hand, eyed Barbara’s breasts as if all they needed was a coat of barbeque sauce.

The gang leader clapped her hands. “Okay, everybody, playtime!”

It didn’t take half a minute before Harley and the henchmen were undressed and circling Barbara like sharks. Barbara took a deep breath as hard cocks and Harley’s inviting, ruby-tipped, chalk-colored breasts bounced closer. It was show time. If Barbara played it well, she might be able to convince them to take her off the menu and just use her as a dessert until the cavalry arrived — if the cavalry arrived.

Dean was first up. Given his technique, it only made sense. Instead of having sex with her, he grabbed his penis with one hand and started licking her pussy. He’d obviously been waiting for the chance all day. At first, he just toyed with her labia, making the swollen flesh ripple beneath the tip of his tongue. Eventually, he started digging deeper, probing her oyster-like folds. Within a couple of minutes, she was in a constant state of moaning as she rolled her hips and pressed herself against his face. She was surprised at how quickly she had recovered.

No one really paid much attention to the fact that Dean wacked off while he snacked. The hornier she got, the more enthusiastic he became, until it looked more like he was attacking her pussy — sucking in mouthfuls that he tongued and bit as if it were his first meal in week.

Dean’s being more painfully aggressively than her usual lovers delayed Barbara’s orgasm a good five minutes. Still, she eventually did what she always did when she succumbed to a good eating out — bucked against him like a horse and screamed, coming hard while he shot his wad up across her ass.

Three orgasms into hanging by her limbs, Barbara’s head was spinning. She was beginning to wonder if Harley wasn’t trying to make her come to death. Breathing hard and whimpering quietly, she imagined what her pussy looked like — swollen, aching, bruised, red, and decorated with several throbbing bite marks. While she hung limply, Dean grabbed his pants with one hand and wiped his mouth with the back of the other. He looked at her limp body with something of a smug, satisfied smile. He’d earned it.

Harley fingered one of Barbara’s numb nipple balls and toyed with a filet knife. Her eyes danced with excitement. “Now that was an orgasm! Who’s next? Step right up!”

Sam moved Barbara’s way, though he seemed pissed that Dean had done such a masterful job. He stepped between their catch’s legs and grab his boner. Already rock hard, he wiped the pearls of cum from Barbara’s ass with the remnants of her costume he’d kept. Once it was dry, he slapped it once and then dug his fingers into it.

“Time to see how a pro does it!” After nestling his massive cock’s head between her sore pussy lips, he wasted no time slamming his shaft to the hilt into her.

The wet slap of his first thrust still echoed off the roofs when the second cracked through the air. It wasn’t as if Barbara heard either sound, however, since her loud — and surprised — groan masked them both. She’d never been fucked so hard. And, while the former librarian in her tended not to use that term, “fucked” is exactly what she was getting.

There was nothing gentle or gallant about Sam’s actions. He meant to pound her into submission. Though Barbara Gordon had long since thought herself beyond being pounded into submission, the angle he pounded her from made his veiny cock rub hard across her clit. Brutal fucking or not, she could learn to enjoy being pounded this way.

Forgetting all about the implied threat behind Harley’s sharp blade hovering over a bound nipple, Barbara met Sam’s third grinding thrust with one of her own. The wet crack and dual moan could probably be heard a half-block away.

Most everyone watched Sam bone her as if it was a spectator sport, cheering him on when he spanked and groped her ass. With every thrust, Barbara’s breasts bounced up and down, slapping in quiet accompaniment to the noise from their pounding sex.

Just as they’d worked up a steady rhythm of echoing liquid thuds, impassioned feminine moans and masculine groans, Sam let out a frustrated, “Son of a bitch!” He sped up to the point that a constant slap…moan reverberated off the walls. Then he crushed Barbara’s bottom in his hands and shot his wad, triggering another, somewhat less climactic, orgasm in his “partner.” Still, it took her a couple of minutes before it faded, and it still left her limbs numb.

As the rooftop breeze chilled her sopping pussy, Harley squeezed more honey over her nipples. Barbara tried to catch her breath. She’d been in full on gang fights that had taken less out of her. Once Sam was out of the way, Harley emptied the bottle and walked around between Barbara’s legs. Her hungry gaze traveled down from the honey-glistening purple balls tipping Barbara’s breasts, over her tight belly to her sex-glistening, rose-flushed folds.

Barbara could tell by the look on Harley’s face it had been awhile since she last had whatever she planned for Barbara. When the woman laid the razor-sharp filet knife on her belly, Barbara started to worry — yet again — that Harley’s intentions for her honey-glazed parts weren’t as benign as Dean’s had been. Then she saw the huge, black, double-cock strap-on dildo in the woman’s hand.

“Okay, boys…” She grinned broadly at Sam and lowered her voice to imitate his. “Gonna show ya how a pro does it!”

Barbara’s concern about Harley’s intentions eased the moment Harley spread her own legs. While the small crowd of men watched eagerly, Harley closed her eyes and slowly worked her half of the thick, veined cock deep past her own wet folds. She velcroed the straps around her by touch, only opening her eyes once she was done. When she opened her eyes back up, she looked around at her gaping henchmen. “What?”

Smiling mischievously, she slid her hands lightly up Barbara’s inner thighs then shoved the bound woman’s legs further apart with an aggressive burst of enthusiasm. “So, Babsy, remember what I said about getting close?”

Barbara’s pussy was just slightly lower than Harley’s strap-on. When the tip of the dildo started splitting her, it pressed first against her swollen clit. She felt every rubber vein slide over the hard nub as the woman slow slid in, easily filling Barbara with thick, artificial cock. When their pussies finally pressed together, the women moaned in unison.

“Oh, Babsy, you take my breath away!”

Ignoring everything but Barbara, Harley pulled back just a bit then slammed forward, slapping their flesh together hard. Barbara groaned as her flushed folds smacked harder against her captor’s and the rubber drove almost to her cervix. After a few moments of grinding that made both their clits swell even harder, Harley started pumping just fast enough to get a rhythmic slap going. Barbara threw her head back, closed her eyes, and did her best to match the other woman thrusts.

Barbara felt Harley’s her heavy breasts sliding over her tight belly. Warm lips closed around a honey-glazed ‘strawberry’. She felt the wonderful sucking tug of Harley’s lips and the pressure of her tongue probing the bulging flesh and soothing the bound areola burning beneath the tie. Then Harley’s teeth slowly closed just above the plastic strap. Though it didn’t hurt nearly as much as she thought it should have, it still got Barbara’s attention.

At first the pain shot straight between her legs. She groaned and pushed her breast into Harley’s face. Harleen giggled around her mouthful and bit harder. Barbara bucked and cried out, throwing off their tempo. Harley countered by moving back into a hard grind aimed at making Barbara forget about the pain. It wasn’t long before she adjusted to Harley’s relentless teeth and settled back into a complementary rhythm that had them both panting.

Harley fucked, sucked and bit for several minutes, using the taste and feel of the bruised flesh in her mouth to distract her from the climax starting to boil low in her belly. Barbara had no such distraction. What her lover did with her mouth and teeth felt incredible. Her breasts’ tips were just numb enough to keep the biting from being unbearable, and the occasional lancing pain only pushed her closer to coming.

They went at it a couple minutes more. Their pussies smashed together, the dildos deep inside them. By then they both glistened with sweat and Harley had taken a break from attacking Barbara’s breasts to slide up until her own stiff nipples rubbed hard on Barbara’s bound ones. She was surprised when Harley’s black lipstick-painted lips found hers. Even so, she eagerly kissed back. As their tongues battled, Barbara’s pussy tingled even more and clenched the dildo harder.

Just as Barbara was just starting to come, Harley broke their passionate embrace and looked at Barbara’s right nipple ball as if it was gold-plated. When the woman’s mouth closed back on it, Barbara pushed against Harley’s pussy, crying out in ecstasy. Then she bit back a scream as molars smashed her nipple and the fattest part of the balled areola crushed in the cutting bite of Harley’s front teeth.

Agony that should have stopped her orgasm cold somehow only served to drive Barbara over the brink. Her orgasm exploded, as did her lover’s. The harder they came, the more energetically Harley attacked the cool, purple flesh and ground the cock into them. Both women groaned as they pressed against each other, writhing and grinding in wet, fiery passion.

Just when she thought her orgasm was finally starting to fade, Harley bit her way over to the other breast, diving into the second strawberry with equal delight. Instead of being too painful to take, the new pain sent Barbara back into another roll of ecstasy. She tried to lift up to see her lover’s body over hers, but her head started swimming. Recognizing that she’d crossed the line where nothing she did could change her fate, she let her head loll backward and closed her eyes again. In just a few moments, as the last of her climax ebbed and Harley’s rabid biting turned to a dull agony that had started feeling dangerous, everything faded to black.

~~~

Barbara came to with the wonderful sensation of a cock pounding between her legs. She instinctively pushed back, moaning automatically at the combination of pleasure in her pussy and burning in her breasts. As her head cleared and she regained control of her breathing, she gazed at her breasts. She was surprised to find both her nipples were fine, if still bound dark purple and cold. Besides a slight tinge of golden red where traces of blood from the biting mingled with Harley’s honey, it was as if the other woman hadn’t been nearly as energetic with them as it had seemed.

A particularly wonderful grinding slap made her gasp. She closed her eyes for a second or two before she forced herself to look around. Harley watched Barbara’s breast bounce through half-lidded eyes. Behind her, the rest of the gang gaped. Several of them openly jacked off. Barbara felt a momentary thrill of excitement at the idea that they were getting off watching her, but the thought cut short as the next thrust drove the rubber cock hard across her clit.

She forced herself to focus as Harley started to lean over, her lips again parting to take in one of the ‘strawberries.’ Something in the wicked, glazed, gleam in her lover’s eyes told Barbara that Harley wasn’t going on for just a pleasant nibble. Instead of letting it happen, Barbara twisted her breast away, desperate to think of some way out. She ground her pussy harder, making her captor pause and gasp in pleasure.

The distraction was enough to slow both women down. Harley’s glazed eyes focused more clearly. Instead of biting Barbara’s nipple, she snagged it with her fingernails, pinching into the cold wrinkles to keep it from slipping free. When she picked the filet knife up from Barbara’s stomach, her captive’s eyes went wide in alarm.

Harley’s voice was raspy from sex and passion-filled. “No? But Babsy…” She lowered the knife just an inch. “Then how about this?” She set the edge of the blade just beneath the zip tie and made a shallow slice, watching eagerly as the choked flesh dimpled then split.

The pain was razor sharp, like a paper cut, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as Barbara expected. She felt the tingling of another impossible orgasm building as her captor moved the blade up and let its edge drag over the balled nipple. As dark blood welled from the cut, Barbara’s pussy clenched in in the first, sudden and surprising, wave of climax. Again, she threw in the towel and gave in to the pleasure, desperate to keep herself in play until Dinah, Dick, or someone else figured out where she was.

With a playful giggle, Harley rolled the blade lightly around the widest part of the ball, just barely nipping the skin. Agony flashed white beneath Barbara’s closed eyelids. She bucked wildly, which just made the orgasm stronger. Half a minute later, Harley groaned and bucked as well. Then the knife flashed, stinging pain swallowed both her breasts’ tips, and darkness claimed Barbara yet again.

~~~

The moment she came to, Barbara realized the zip ties were gone. She had no idea how; she just knew they weren’t there. Free from the partial bondage, her breasts bounced even harder to Harley’s pounding thrusts. She took a breath and bit her lip, doing anything she could to dull the tingling in her pussy and gather her wits. Harley stepped up the tempo, pounding and grinding so hard neither of them could keep their eyes open. Realizing the knife was back on her belly, Barbara bucked and threw her belly up so the blade flew from it to the asphalt. But Harley didn’t notice as she bent to enjoy Barbara’s breasts some more.

Panting hard, Barbara licked her lips so the other woman could see, doing her best to make her raspy voice sound as inviting as she could. “Please…let me…” She looked pointedly at their grinding hips and licked her lips again, making clear she wanted to eat Harley out. “I promise you won’t regret it.” It was only then she realized she had no idea when the gag had been removed.

Harley slowed the pounding to a leisurely grinding roll and raised a brow. “You promise, do ya?”

Barbara tried to look coy, biting her lip far harder than would have been necessary to look sexy in hopes of stopping yet another mounting climax. “What do you have to lose?”

Harley laughed and pulled back, sliding the cock slowly from Barbara’s dripping folds just in time to avoid the orgasm. She looked from the glistening rubber shaft to Barbara’s pussy.

“Hate to waste a fantastic fuck, but what the hell. Still sporting the rubber hard-on, she turned to the others. “Roll her over boys. One of you is about to get lucky.”

 

Five minutes later, Barbara dangled face down, her arms and legs pulled up so her glistening breasts hung like lovely udders over the low grill beneath her. Their tips throbbed from having been bound and abused. She was high enough above the glowing coals that it didn’t burn much — yet. It was hard to fathom how she could still be horny, but she most definitely was.

Harley reclined in a lawn chair, her pussy just centimeters from Barbara’s face. The heroine could feel someone between her legs, but couldn’t look back to see who it was, or what he was doing.

“So, Babs thinks she can make me happy enough ta stop me from making Babsy’s Boobies on the Barbie. Guess that means she’s gonna try to eat me so I don’t eat her, huh guys?”

While her henchmen just laughed, Barbara looked down at the coals. While the image of her steaming tits pressed nipples down, flat across the grates while Harley and the boys took turns with her had its admittedly insane appeal, that’s as far as it went. It didn’t matter how many times they’d made her come, how great her orgasms had been, how horny she was, or what they still might do to show themselves up, she doubted there were enough endorphins in her body to let her enjoy having her boobs roasted.

Harley looked up at Dean and grinned. “My tummy’s rumblin’. Drop her down a notch and let’s get to it. Maybe she’ll surprise me.”

Barbara’s long hair shifted in the breeze as the henchman lowered her just a touch. A fresh wave of heat washed over her chest. Even though she was still a couple feet above the coals, she didn’t know how long it would be before the temperature became too intense. She licked her lips and started to go for Harley’s pretty, shaved pussy, but the other woman pulled back so the glistening pink lips and swollen clit were just out of reach.

“Whoa, Babsy! We all need to know the rules, first.” She slid back forward until her flushed pussy almost brushed Barbara’s lips. “So, rules is rules. If I come first, Batgirl gets to be my sex slave an’ we find somethin’ else to eat. But if Batgirl comes first…” Harley licked her lips and tilted her head sideways to look pointedly at Barbara’s dangling breasts. “Well, my mouth’s waterin’ at the thought.”

Harley ran her hands up her ribcage and over her breasts. With her nipples trapped and bulging from between her fingers, she grinned. “Ready? Go!”

Barbara wasted no words or time. She dove in to Harley’s pussy, going straight for the mouthful surrounding the woman’s swollen clit. She was drawing her tongue up the upper crevices when a thick cock split her now constantly throbbing pussy with a hard, moist smack. She gasped around Harley’s slippery folds but managed to hold on to the bud that counted most. Just as she was about to start nibbling, a bare hand cracked across her right butt cheek.

Barbara groaned. She could already feel her own clit start to throb, and she knew there was no way she’d be able to give Harley the attention she’d need to win the bet with the spanking and thick distraction between her own legs. Trying her best to ignore the insistent pleasure pumping inside her, she mouthed Harley’s pussy more thoroughly, sucking and licking every way she knew how. As the feelings pushing her to another orgasm grew stronger, she actually tried to get her breasts closer to the flame so the heat would be a distraction.

The spanking was as constant and thorough as the fucking. Each wonderful stinging slap made her ass jiggle, and the pain only helped drive her closer to a climax. There was no way one guy could fuck her so well and spank her so hard. She managed to look back under her and saw two pairs of legs. The guy boning her buried his fingers in the outside curves of her bottom and gouged his nails into her pink flesh, shifting her forward so her breasts swayed over the coals. A drop of sweat tickled her left nipple and then dropped and sizzled on the fire. As she’d hoped, her breasts had started to sting, but instead of distracting her, the light burning was only making her tingling pussy clench even more.

She attacked Harley’s pussy with renewed vigor, working it with her tongue. Though the woman had settled into a satisfying hip roll that told Barbara she was making progress, her own growing orgasm was getting too close to making her lose control. Despite knowing she should fight it, she arched her bottom up, shifting so the hard cock pushed nearer her clit and exposing more bottom for them to spank.

Barbara imagined what was going to happen if she lost, with Dean rolling her down onto the grill until her nipples slipped between the cracks and her areola pressed against the grate. If they did it fast enough, timed it with her climax, she’d gotten to the point she thought she might actually enjoy the first second or two.

Instead of deadening her pleasure, the image of her squashed boobs fueled her passion. The henchman fucking was speeding up, pounding her harder. His groans were as loud as Harley’s, but neither seemed to be as loud as her own. She felt his fingers close around her hips, his cock driving harder than ever. His thumbnails gouged her bottom, sending a spark of pain to her pussy that, combined with the sting in her nipples, sent her over the edge.

As she felt the cock pulse, its jets of warmth filling her, she tried to suck Harley’s clit. But she’d lost her coordination. Instead of acting frustrated, Harley just laughed, pulled back and fingered herself to her own passionate climax.

A couple minutes later, Harley languished in the chair, her pussy pink, swollen and glistening. Though the afterglow was wonderful, without the added distractions the pain in Barbara’s breasts was starting to verge on unpleasant.

Harley idly tweaked her own nipples and smiled lazily at her captive. “Well, Babsy, time to eat.”

Barbara forced herself past her post orgasmic stupor and shook her head. “Please, Harley. Think about this.”

“Babsy, it’s all I’ve been thinkin’ about since I came up with the idea.”

Dean reached for the winch. Hopefully, she’d fade to black quickly after her tits flattened against the cross-hatch of burning metal, but she didn’t want to find out.

Desperately, she screamed, “No! Wait! WAIT!”

Dean stopped in mid-crank. Harley looked from the Barbara’s flushed breasts dripping sweat onto the coals to her captive’s desperate face. “Wait? Why should I do that? I won the bet.”

With her eyes locked on the flames that were starting to flare, Barbara’s voice became almost frantic as she spit out words in a staccato burst. “I’ll be your sex slave…” She looked around at them all. “Everyone’s if you want.” She was buying time. If they cut her down, she’d get her shot eventually. And, if she didn’t find a way to escape, then the others would find her soon. Either way, she just needed to keep her tits off the grill for a while.

Harley watched her own left nipple intently, as if she’d never seen it twist. She torqued it a full circle one way and then a full circle back the other. “They’re like taffy.” She stretched it out, twisted it a bit more, and then let it snap back. “Taffy, berries, barbeque… Who’da thunk boobs could be so versatile.”

She looked seriously at Barbara as if suddenly deciding to consider what the bound woman said. “Babs, you’re already our sex slave, silly. I’m just helpin’ ya up your game. You and Dicky got no sense of adventure. Candle wax? Really? Now this…” She made a grand sweeping gesture encompassing Barbara and the grill. “This is an adventure!”

After another nipple tweak, she bounced to her feet and laughed. “I bet Dicky’ll be here any time now. Bet with just a little proddin’, he’ll be all over my idea. Nightwing boinkin’ Batgirl up on a roof in the middle of Gotham while Babsy’s boobies barbeque. Now that’s kinky!”

“Wait…what…Harleen, how…” She’d never mentioned her relationship with Nightwing, let alone his secret identity.

Harley dropped to her knees in front of Barbara and gave her a long, lingering kiss. Barbara found herself leaning into it.

When Harley finally broke, she reached under Barbara and playfully slapped her left breast. “Did ya really think I was gonna grill your boobies, Babsy? Come on. We’re buds!”

After another peck on Barbara’s cheek, she walked around the grill and hip bumped Dean out of the way. “I’m gonna let your boyfriend do that.”

Then she giggled. “It’s like Mistah J always said…” Her eyes fell back onto Barbara’s hanging breasts, which were really starting to sting. Her wide-eyed excitement turned into a sudden frown. “Actually, Mistah J would say to fahget Nightwing!”

Without warning, Harley fingered the metal stop holding the winch handle in place. A half-second later, Barbara started to fall.

“This is all about rememberin’ Puddin’, and he’da loved watchin’ this!”

~~~

“Barbara?”

Barbara’s eyes jerked open and snapped down to her chest. “No!”

“Barbara! It’s me, Dick, and Jason.”

With the vision of her nipples smashing against the red-hot grate and the agony of the burning grill sizzling her breasts still fresh in her mind, she couldn’t help but ignore his voice for the moment longer it took to inspect. Besides some road rash and bleeding from grit and gravel ground into them when she’d dived beneath the gas, they were fine — sore, but fine.

She started to take a deep breath, and then realized what he’d said. Her hands flew across her chest. Dick was very familiar with the view, but Jason… not so much. She was very glad Damien wasn’t there. She could only imagine what snarky little Robin would say.