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Subject: All the Myriad Lays chapter 1 – celebrity All the Myriad Lays Chapter One: Of Course It’s a Trap Evan Andrews 2022 This is a fan fiction. The characters in this story are based on characters belonging to and trademarked and copyrighted by DC Comics and/or its subsidiaries. I am not related to the company and make no claim of ownership over the characters. This story exists outside of any DC continuity I’m familiar with. The villainess, Glory Hole is based on AMG personality Glory Holden. This story should in no way be considered a true representation of the true sexuality of any of the original characters. The story depicts males in sexual situations with other males. If that offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading now. Thank you. If you enjoy this story, or even if you hate it, please contribute to keeping Nifty going at fty/donate.html @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ “The world is coming to an end, and here I am, well and truly fucked,” Batman thought, and his alter ego, billionaire Bruce Wayne responded internally, “Thank you, Captain Obvious.” He had no idea how true that was. Glowing cords of red energy held the Dark Knight, in full kit, fast. Worse than that, they held him suspended, upright and spread-eagled, over a red glowing pit that smoked ominously below the soles of his boots. The hero would have growled out his frustration, but for the ball gag that filled his mouth, silencing him. As he struggled, testing the strength of his restraints, Batman took his surroundings, trying to formulate an escape plan. “Oh no, my darling,” a husky disembodied voice purred in his ear, “Trust me. Glory knows exactly how to truss up the Batman so that he can’t get loose, so you can forget all about that daring escape you’re obviously putting together.” The last thing Batman was willing to do was take this insidious siren’s word for it, and he continued to struggle against the red cords � to no avail. Though they looked for all the world like rope, they must have been made of something unearthly, stronger and much more resilient. After he had exhausted himself, the hero of Gotham City was still in the same vulnerable position as he began in. “I know what,” Glory’s voice said brightly, “How about we watch my new favorite program: The Famous Five Walk Right Into Glory’s Trap. Do you think you’d enjoy that?” A ghostly screen (Batman couldn’t figure out what technology this Glory person had access to or how she was deploying it) appeared in the air, and Batman watched as his five young associates crept stealthily towards the seemingly abandoned mansion. Exactly as Batman had little more than an hour earlier. Outside, the world was going to hell in a handbasket. Every able-bodied hero had been trying to find out why — and put a stop to it — but during in the last two weeks, multiple superhero “families” had disappeared without a trace following what they had told Batman was a hot lead. Aquaman and his crew were gone. Green Arrow and his were nowhere to be found. The Green Lanterns had gone silent. That left only the Bat Family. Painstakingly, Batman had assembled a web of evidence that suggested to him that the answers he sought could be found in a long abandoned mansion on the outskirts of Gotham City. Not wanting to put any of his boys in peril, the Dark Knight had set out alone to reconnoiter. Alone, he told himself, he had a much better chance of getting in and getting out with the information he needed. Tonight, however, the intrinsic perversity of the universe was rolling high, and Batman just hadn’t been stealthy enough. The Dark Knight never figured out the exact nature of the trap, but it had snared him well and good, not just capturing him beating him senseless at the same time. When he came to he found himself trussed up here in the ballroom, hanging like some sort of obscene bursa evi olan escort pi�ata. The situation was honestly nothing new (though the suggestive position had him on edge), but the fact that he couldn’t see a single way to free himself was a humiliating novelty. And now, there on the screen he watched his five prot�g�s, sneaking (or so they thought) up to the mansion just as he had. Fuck, they were coming in the exact same way he had, too! They were as good as caught, and there was nothing he could do about it. Glory’s voice purred in his ear again, “Isn’t this all just too precious? They’re coming to rescue you, but instead they’re going to fall into my trap. Eenie, meenie, miney, moe, and… Hmm, I need to expand the rhyme to account for the fifth one. Gosh, he’s cute, isn’t he?” Batman gargled his anger at the invisible fiend. His reward was a disembodied hand stroking the impressive bulge in his trunks. “No, dear, there’s absolutely nothing you can do. Except watch. And if you are resolved on not enjoying it, I’ll have to do that for you.” @@@@@@@@@@@ Five current or former Robins (what the tabloids referred to as the Bat Frat) crept towards the mansion’s conservatory door. Red Hood, Jason, was the one that noticed Batman had gone out alone, and Red Robin, Tim, was the one who had quickly hacked the Bat Computer. Nightwing, Dick, the best detective among them, had put the pieces together, and they were following in the mentor’s footsteps not long after. Approaching the mansion’s front door was too obvious, and the servants’ entrance was too far away from the only light in the place, a red glow that pulsed provocatively in the ballroom windows. “So, was there some reason you brought me and Duke along?” the Troy Wonder asked out of the blue, “I mean, it’s not like we hang out together at the clubhouse all the time playing pinocle or whatever it is you guys do.” The big blond jock was part of a Baker Street Irregulars corps of young people who had decided to take up the Robin mantle at one point. Signal, Duke, was the natural leader, but the Troy Wonder, as he called himself, was the loudest and most brash. The big jock had once almost gotten blown to Kingdom Come with his heroics, but one of the real Robins had been on hand to pull him out of harm’s way, just in the nick of time. Though Nightwing was nominally in charge of the official Robins, Red Hood was the one with the mouth, and he always had a sarcastic comeback at the ready. “You notice many other supers running around recently, Goldenrod?” the alive then dead then alive again hero/villain/antihero growled under his breath. “You were the best we could dig up, but, please, if you think we’re not rescuing Batman right, don’t be shy. Tell us exactly how you’d do it better.” Put in his place, the sullen Troy Wonder shut up, and Nightwing, shaking his head, silently jimmied the door. The Troy Wonder was right, though. No matter what the press seemed to think, he and Signal were not Nightwing’s brothers the way Red Hood and Red Robin were. They didn’t hang out together. They didn’t support each other. (Hi, my name is Dick, and I’m a Robin. Hi, Dick…) Truth be told, this five had never before operated as a team. Oh well, maybe this was the night for that to change. Nightwing inched the door open, and together they slipped into the mansion. Room after derelict room, each devoid of furniture or decoration (aside from peeling wallpaper), greeted them inside. Thankfully, the floor was sound, and no creaking gave away their presence as they approached the open double doors of the once elegant ballroom. Peeking inside they found the single item of d�cor in the place, their mentor, Batman, hanging in midair in high bondage. And he was staring right at the door as if he knew they were there. How the eff…? Nightwing’s carefully laid plans fell altıparmak escort apart in an instant. Red Robin sprang forward, followed closely by Duke and Troy. The rash youngsters rushed straight towards their mentor even as the Dark Knight did his best to warn them off. Nightwing and Red Hood had more experience, though, and used it. Not that it did any good. Nightwing nodded to the left, and, looking at Red Hood, nodded to the right. They headed to their sides of the large room and tried to flank anybody that might be hiding to attack them. Batman’s gag suddenly disappeared, and he barked, “No! Go back! It’s a trap!” Glory’s voice purred in his ear, “Thank you, Captain Obvious.” All five of Batman’s prot�g�s paused at his words, though, which gave Glory all the time she needed to spring her snare. Holes opened up in the floor underneath the young men, and all five plummeted out of sight into red glowing pits. “Nooooooo!” Batman cried. Batman watched in horror as the holes, from which inarticulate screams of the young heroes now broke forth, moved across the floor to form a line in front of him. “What are you doing to them?” the Dark Knight demanded of Glory, who had now manifested alongside him. Glory, in the flesh, was the least feminine woman Batman had ever seen, dressed ridiculously in a harem girl / Dream of Jeannie outfit: loose pants and a bikini top over a very flat chest. For all he knew, she could have been a man in really bad drag. Whatever she was, though, she was definitely a force to be reckoned with. “Well,” she said, “Since you really want to know, and since you ask so nicely…” With a wave of her hand Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Signal and the Troy Wonder rose out of the red glow. Kneeling, they were trussed up with red cords like the ones that held him immobile. Not just that, but their wrists were bound to their ankles, forcing all five young pelvises, with their genital bulges, forward, either provocatively or obscenely depending on the point of view you chose to adopt. And their mouths were stoppered with bit gags as if the boys were in some sort of stable for riding animals. Little did Batman realize… “Isn’t this just too precious!” Glory said as she walked the length of her new Robin collection, stroking each head as she passed, “Acres and acres of sidekick, and they’re all mine!” “You fiend!” Batman growled. “Fiend? Is that the best you can do? Fiend?” Glory was amused rather than offended. “Puh-lease, I haven’t even gotten started. But if you really want me to be fiendish, let me see what I can come up with. How about…” Glory waved her hand, and a giant red phallus rose up out of the glow below Batman’s spread legs. It rose until it pressed between the Dark Knight’s spread legs, clearly aimed at his vulnerable (and very cherry) asshole. The Dark Knight gritted his teeth and resolved to give the siren no pleasure, resisting with all his might the wicked shaft that was doing its best to tear through the fabric of his trunks and force its way past his guardian muscle and into his guts. As Batman fought the inevitable, Glory wandered back along her new captives, finally taking up a position by Nightwing. “Have you ever seen Batman fucked, Nightwing?” she asked as she curled one of the Titan’s thick black locks around a finger, “If not, pay close attention. I promise you; it’s going to be spectacular.” Nightwing watched in horror (truth be told they all did) as the infernal fuck-engine finally won its war and forced itself into the all-too-human-human bat-cunt. Batman roared as its length tore its way past his sphincter and began to pump in an out of his virgin hole. Inarticulate with pain and rage, Batman fought futilely against the unnatural rape, but incredibly his cock slowly started to warm up to the idea. Inches of hard weeping bat-pole soon pressed out against bursa merkez escort his black trunks. “Urngh!” Batman moaned. “What’s wrong, love?” Glory said, as she abandoned Nightwing and slunk towards the writhing form of her primary captive. “I mean, it looks like you’re enjoying it. Most men do, secretly,” and here she shot a meaningful glance and a wicked smile towards the Bat Frat. Glory cupped the now-rigid bat-meat and rubbed it. “Eeeugh!” Batman cried. Whether it was pain, or pleasure, or simple humiliation, Nightwing could never later say. “Am I a fiend now?” Glory taunted Batman. “Am I?” She ran fingers up the length of the hidden shaft, and the dark stain at its end grew. “A true fiend would leave you this way for hours (and, you know, we might try that later), but right now, let me show you how considerate a fiend I can be.” The harridan pulled the leg of Batman’s trunks out and fished his dick free of its confines. Released, 10 inches of hard bat-cock jutted into the air. A single stroke of Glory’s finger over the Dark Knight’s sensitive frenulum convinced it to leak a slow but steady stream of man-nectar. Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin had seen Batman naked before of course, what with shared showers and locker rooms and all, but never had they seen the bat-pole in its full glory. Signal and Troy, of course, had never seen Batman in anything but his costume. No matter how much Batman’s trunks had revealed, the sight of the hard weeping fuck-rod mesmerized them all. “Fuck!” Batman yelled as his ass went on getting pummeled, and he kept on yelling, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” “Is that `fuck’ as in `Fuck you, Glory’? Or `fuck’ as in `Fuck me deeper, Glory; fuck me harder, Glory’? If it’s the first, then I must decline the offer. Maybe later. If it’s the second, then you’re in luck.” Batman was too far gone into his demise to answer Glory, so, deciding for him, she chose the option that promised the most fun. “Stud muffins,” Glory said looking back at her boys, “I’m bored with Gotham City, so I think it’s time to bring our little show to an end.” The Bat Frat watched in horror as the rod fucking Batman both sped up its pace and increased the length that was penetrating and rearranging his guts. Glory took the Dark Knight’s member in her hand and began to stroke its length expertly. Batman’s pelvis strained forward and back mindlessly, doing its level best to fuck her hand (though in effect this meant he was also fucking himself on the infernal phallus). The Bat Frat, to a man, had been jerking off for years, but even though they considered themselves masters of the art they clearly were novices compared to this she-demon. (And don’t think Glory didn’t notice that Red Robin, at least, was blatantly turned on by the whole show. That boy was going to deserve to quality time later.) “Oh, fuck, yeah! Just like that, you bitch!” Batman roared. “Yeah, right there!” Batman’s cowled head fell back, his pelvis thrust forward, and his suddenly-stiff body was wracked with spasms as ropes of cum flew out of the head of his mighty weapon. “Cumming!” Batman screamed as splurt after splurt shot through the air. “Cuuuuuuuuuming!” Seven massive wads later, Batman was done, and he slumped in his bondage. The rape rod withdrew, and as it popped out of his hole, the Dark Knight uttered a defeated “Ungh”. Glory kept on stroking and managed to coax a few more dribbles of bat-sperm before she let his meat go. “Ah,” Glory clapped and smiled, “Now that’s pornography!” The Bat Frat stared at her in confusion. “Oh, come on,” Glory complained, “Slappy Squirrel, the X-rated outtakes? Does nobody watch the classics anymore? I swear, you young people.” She hefted Batman’s aching balls as his cock quickly returned to its ground state (which was still damned impressive). “Well, my studlings, I hope you were taking notes because we really should be getting along now. Places to go, things to see, people…,” and here she graced the young men with a disconcerting leer, “people to do.” The trans-dimensional fiend made a grand gesture, and she, Batman and the Bat Frat sank through the floor and into the infernal red glow of their obscene fate.

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