Toxic

8.3K 209 131
                                    

Arkham Asylum

"I was expecting you to arrive sooner Batman, and I know you're about to kick me in the face, but you have already been exposed to the toxin, assuming you came in through a vent. Which would be the stealthiest way into this building. So, I predict that you have started to feel the effects already. Say Batman, what is your greatest fear? I never could figure it out." Scarecrow's whispery voice bounces off of the Asylum walls.

"Actually, I came in through the front door." Scarecrow is suddenly surrounded by smoke and fog, rising from his feet to his lungs, blurring the vision of his surroundings. He feels a sharp pain in his back that sends him to the concrete floor.

Without Scarecrow noticing, Batman has successfully taken out all of Crane's minions and deactivated the chemical machinery. This was done all while Scarecrow was 'busy' practicing what he was going to say to Batman when he arrived.

"Uggh!" Scarecrow grunts in pain, rolls onto his back and sprays Batman with the Joker-fear toxin combo. Batman shuts his eyes, and falls onto his back while he coughs violently.

The scene changes around him, he opens his eyes to see a dark room. The surface of the floor is expected to be hard, like concrete, but it surprises Bruce when it feels soft and cushiony, like a bed. He can even feel the floral patterns and lumps on the quilt. He feels an entity on top of him, rolling him so that he is on all fours. A pale-skinned, slender hand with black painted nails slitheres across his now bare chest and slides down to his hips along with another one. Soft, wet lips trail kisses from his neck to the beginning of Bruce's shoulder. Hitting a sweet spot, causing Bruce to moan.

He shrivels away from their touch, feeling uneasy, being violated like this. The worst part is, he's enjoying every second of it. He feels disgusting as he arches his back when two fingers are inserted into his hole, already leaking precum, back arching, hips moving toward the fingers. He feels dirty when the tip slides into him without any warning, the rest of the length slapping quickly inside. He feels unclean every time his prostate is hit as he comes closer to finishing. Bruce holds the invisible sheets with a claw-like grip as he moans one last time, his chest becoming sprayed with a sticky white substance.

When he thinks it's over, the person behind Bruce grunts.

"Not enough." For some reason, those two words struck a heart string within him. The feeling of not being able to pleasure this familiar entity making his chest feel scrunched up and a single tear to escape Bruce's eye. This time, the whole length is shoved deep inside, quickly, not taking their time at all. Just hard, fast slams, in and out. Bruce's anus starts to bleed. The owner of the cock that is currently inside Bruce laughs in a grizzly voice, slamming into him even harder, not even hitting his prostate anymore. Just violent, brutal, not savoring the moment at all.

"Stop, I-I don't want this." The intruder grabs Bruce's hair, yanking it back. His voice strains as he grunts, almost whining.

"Another quick fuck." The familiar voice says with disgust in his throat. He starts up again, and again, just meaningless sex, no love or care put into it at all.

"N-no more, please!" He tries to move, but can't, his body won't let him. They just snicker and keep going.

This goes on for hours, but seems more like days, until the sinking feeling in his stomach disappears and Bruce opens his eyes to find Jim Gordon injecting him with a light blue liquid. The smoke has cleared, Crane has been put back in his cell, with extra security and padding this time.

"Batman are you oka-" Gorden pauses, and hears a sniffle coming from under him, 'No, it can't be' he thinks to himself, but it can be, because Batman, THE Batman was shaking tremendously.

"I-uh-ahem... t-there, there Batman, the uh...bad man can't hurt you now." Batman gets up immediately and quickly wipes his his tears away that are streaming from his cowl.

"I'm fine Gordon, I'm *sniff* not a child Jim." Bruce blushes profusely under his cowl.

"Sorry, we, uh, do that for small children when they are caught in the middle of a house robbery or a hostage situation." Batman is no longer there.

"*sigh* it never gets any less creepy."

Trapped in the ClosetWhere stories live. Discover now