Camilla meanwhile was busy with some hunks of her own. She was surrounded by several of the Diva’s henchmen/studs, namely Hercules, Adonis, and Sampson. The handsome hunks were showing off their chiseled frames, much to the young Englishwoman’s delight. She was considering which one to bed first, and considering bedding them all, when a new man entered the room.
He was breathtakingly beautiful, tall and blonde with perfect features. He could reasonably be described as gorgeous. Camilla’s heart fluttered a little when he looked at her and smiled. He was walking across the room right to her.
“Hi, I’m Dreamy,” he said smoothly.
“You can say that again,” Camilla replied breathlessly.
“No, my name is Dreamy,” the young man corrected.
“Oh, of course. I’m Camilla Fogg,” she told him somewhat more demurely.
He took her hand and kissed it gallantly, causing goose-bumps to tickle her flesh.
“Why don’t you come with me?” he suggested pulling her up from her perch on the sofa.
She rose and allowed him to begin leading her away before offering a belated protest.
“But where are we going?” she asked as he escorted her arm-in-arm through a dark doorway.
“Ssh, I just thought you might like to be alone.”
Being alone with the magnificent man did sound like a good idea, and she knew that she couldn’t be in danger with the Princess so close by. She fairly danced through the doorway, barely noticing as he closed the door behind them.
The new room was dimly lit and appeared to be unoccupied. Camilla gasped when her dream man pushed her quickly against the wall. He was all over her like an animal, licking at her neck while his hands roamed freely around her young body. She was taken aback a bit, but it felt so good that she didn’t tell him to stop. In fact she felt better than good, she felt positively divine.
She also felt… strange. She didn’t remember having too much champagne, but her senses were undeniably sluggish. A warm lethargy was spreading through her, making her drowsy, yet at the same time she was incredibly aroused. A moan escaped her as a satin-gloved hand reached up under her flimsy shirt to tease her hardening nipple. The satin felt absolutely delicious against her skin. Camilla’s eyes flashed open in a moment of clarity. The blonde man wasn’t wearing satin gloves!
Standing next to her, slowly kneading her breast was a beautiful blonde belle. The vivacious blue-eyed bombshell was garbed in an eighteenth century-era ball-gown of exquisite lavender satin, trimmed in delicate lace. She held a matching lace fan in her right gloved hand which she fluttered femininely. A large wide-brimmed hat adorned with fabulous pink feathers rested atop her curly blonde locks.
The fetchingly attired femme smiled at the aroused teen.
“How are you feelin’ Sugar?” she asked in a sexy Southern drawl.
Camilla stepped back warily and eyed the attractive blonde couple distrustfully.
“I know you,” she declared. “You were at the Palace.”
“The Dream Lady at your service,” she replied cheerily. “And you’ve already met Dreamy.”
“Yes, I’m sorry to say I have,” Camilla responded haughtily as she vainly attempted to smooth her skimpy outfit. “Now what do you want? My aunt, the Duchess, will hear about this. And I doubt that Princess Beauty would take too kindly to you harassing one of her hand-maidens.”
“On the contrary Sweet-cheeks, the Princess asked me to have a little chat with you.”
“A chat? About what?” the Brit demanded.
“About your fidelity to the Princess and Lord Morpheus,” Dream Lady taunted. “The Princess doesn’t trust you or your precious aunt.”
“We are absolutely loyal to Lord Morpheus!” Camilla insisted vehemently.
“Well we’ll soon find out darlin’. Oh Magnolia, bring the tray.”
A petite young brunette sheathed in slick black latex emerged from the shadows bearing a silver covered tray. The slinky slut gave a brief curtsy and pulled the cover off the tray. Dream Lady placed her fan on it and picked up an item that Camilla couldn’t see. She found out soon enough as the Southern belle turned holding a hypodermic needle in one hand.
The Brit gasped and shied away as Dream Lady approached her.
“What is that?” she demanded. “Truth serum or something?”
“This,” the devilish dream-domme purred squirting a bit of the substance from the tip of the needle, “is instant nap-time, bedtime in a bottle, liquid lullaby.”
“Stay away from me with that!” the girl tried to shout forcefully, though it came out in a panicked croak.
“Oh don’t worry Sugar-pie, this isn’t for you,” the blonde assured her. “It’s for Dreamy.”
The blonde hunk had undone is pants and pulled them down. Dream Lady grasped his cock and lifted his balls. She smoothly injected the drug into the sensitive skin underneath his scrotum. Camilla winced at the sight but the well-hung stud never even flinched.
“There,” remarked the beautiful bringer of dreams as she placed the empty syringe back on the tray. “Now, Dreamy is going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked. While he does I’m going to ask you some questions which you will answer truthfully. When I am satisfied, and just as importantly when Dreamy is satisfied, he will cum. His seed will be thoroughly saturated with the drug that I just injected into him. Once it’s inside you my little Dream potion will put you to beddie-bye and when you awake you will remember nothing. Now how does that sound peaches?”
“Bloody hell!” declared Camilla as she tried to break past Dreamy. He grabbed her and pushed her back against the wall.
“I see I’ve ruined the moment between you two,” Dream Lady remarked turning back to Magnolia and her tray. “Let’s see if I can get you back in the mood, hmmm?”
She selected a long, thin, black cigarillo and Dreamy, anticipating his Mistress’ needs, lit it for her with a gold lighter pulled from his pocket. The blonde Madame nodded her appreciation briefly before focusing her attention on young Camilla. She brought the mini-cigar to her lips and French-inhaled, the heavy smoke hanging in her mouth, before blowing the thick white cloud into the teen’s face.
Camilla knew of course that the cigar smoke would be drugged. It was one of the preferred methods of Morpheus’ Royal Court. She herself had watched as her aunt smoked more than one unfortunate victim to sleep. So she held her breath, even though she knew that in the end it would prove futile. She would have to breathe eventually and when she did Dream Lady’s soporific smoke would put her to sleep.
She had no doubts about the Southern belle’s abilities. She had heard no less an authority than Sandman himself express admiration at the former tobacco heiress’ prowess at putting people to bed.
Delilah Davenport smiled as she saw the girl attempting to fight off the smoke. She would know that it was no use but she tried anyway; the girl had moxie. Unfortunately moxie wasn’t going to be enough.
“She seems tense Dreamy, why don’t you help her relax?” she suggested to her boy-toy who was standing there stroking his long cock.
The blonde hunk smiled and moved closer to the young lady whose face was turning quite red with the strain of not breathing. His hands moved down between her soft thighs and he felt her body tense. He gently stroked the smooth skin of her upper leg before slowly moving upwards. She inhaled sharply, a short quick snort, when he made contact with her pink, cotton panties. He began to rub her through the thin material, knowing that no woman could resist his touch. She was quickly wet; it wouldn’t be long now.
Camilla almost screamed when he began fingering her pussy through her undies. She couldn’t remember anything ever feeling that good. As it was she took a short, involuntary breath. The air was becoming thick with Dream Lady’s smoke and she couldn’t help getting a whiff. The odor was not unpleasant; in fact it smelled rather nice, not medicinal at all like the Duchess’ mind-fogging gas. It was a flowery scent that reminded her of summer; like a hot, sticky, lazy summer day.
Her mind started to drift and she exhaled in a long sigh. Dreamy had pulled her panties aside and was sliding his fingers lengthwise along her wet slit. The sweet smoke was filling her nostrils as her breathing became deep and even. She yawned deeply and closed her eyes.
“There, isn’t that better?” soothed Dream Lady as she led the girl over to a velvet sofa in the corner.
She sat and Dreamy helped lay the girl down so that her head was resting in the Madame’s lap. He then bent down between her lags and began licking her pussy. The blonde meanwhile enjoyed her cigarillo, blowing hazy clouds into the already drowsy girl’s face.
“Now darling, I’m going to ask you a few questions and I want you to tell me the truth, understand?”
“Mmmm,” the girl replied sleepily.
“Good. What are your aunt’s plans?”
“Don’t… know,” Camilla told her weakly.
“Sure you do Sweets. Dreamy help her remember.”
The stud removed his tongue from her box and moved to a kneeling position between her legs. He rubbed just the tip of his long cock gently along the silken folds of her slit. Camilla gasped in pleasure and wriggled in the blonde’s lap.
“Does that jog your memory any?”
The girl shook her head fitfully as if to make her tormenter go away.
“I know how to loosen that tongue of yours,” the ball-gowned gal promised.
She leaned down and grabbed the girl’s cheeks to hold her steady. She took a drag on her cigar and then closed her lips over the struggling teen’s open mouth. Wisps of smoke rose from between the two femmes as they shared an increasingly erotic kiss. Finally Dream Lady pulled away, white vapors trailing from her mouth. Camilla exhaled her own smoke with a sigh, all of the fight most definitely gone.
This time when asked she began to divulge all of her aunt’s secrets, her drowsy mumbles punctuated with animal moans of pleasure as Dreamy fucked her senseless. It wasn’t long before the Southern belle had learned everything that the Princess wanted to know.
“Well Dreamy,” she said when she was satisfied that there was nothing more to be learned, “I think it’s about time our little friend from across the pond had a nice nap.”
The blonde hunk smiled at his Mistress. He was very aroused and had been going at it for quite some time. He was more than happy to fulfill the Dream Lady’s request and showed it by pulling his dick out of Camilla’s pussy and shooting his load all over her face. He then rubbed his cock on her smooth cheeks making sure to drain every drop of his now drug-soaked sperm onto her lips.
The Brit began to lick it off of herself like a proper slut as the sophisticated southerner looked on. This was a new experience; usually Dreamy just came inside them and the anesthetic that she injected into his scrotum would do its job. She wondered if the drug’s reaction would be different when applied orally in this fashion.
She didn’t have long to wait as Camilla’s eyes, already heavy from the sleepy cigarillo smoke, closed completely. Her expression was one of contented repose. Sandman’s Royal Madame nodded in satisfaction and turned away.
“Magnolia, clean her up and get her in the car,” she ordered. “I’m sure the Princess will want to leave soon.”
Campbell heard voices and she managed to painfully raise her head and open her eyes. The light in the room was blindingly bright. She turned in the direction of the voices and saw two women standing close by regarding her casually. The lights were behind them, throwing shadows across their faces. The thick fur coats and hats that they each wore reminded her of how cold she was.
“Well look who’s waking up already,” remarked one of the women in a familiar voice as she stepped a little closer.
When the young lady moved out of the light Campbell saw that it was the girl with whom she had been dancing, the one they called Angel. The cute blonde was draped in a floor-length silver fox fur pulled tightly around her to ward off the chill.
“The gas my snow-bunnies used was very mild. We need her awake to interrogate her.”
The second woman stepped forward as well. She was older than Angel, in her early thirties perhaps, but just as attractive and blonde as well. She was swathed from head to toe in spotless white mink.
“What if she doesn’t want to talk?”
“No fear of that my dear Angel,” Jacqueline Frost replied with wry amusement evident in her voice. “But if she fights too much I’ll let you cool her down some.”
Campbell was beginning to fully wakeup and she looked from one woman to the other.
“I know you, you’re that skier. What do you think you’re doing?”
“I WAS an Olympic Silver Medalist you little snot,” Ms. Frost replied icily. “And I will do whatever I wish to you.”
“Is that so? I think the Princess might have something to say about that.”
The woman known in Aspen as The Ice Queen for her chilly demeanor grinned. It was a cold smile that never reached her crystal-blue eyes.
“Oh, I don’t think the Princess will mind one bit. In fact she suggested that I ‘put the heat on you’ to find out what you and the Duchess are up to.”
“Just what are you implying?” Campbell demanded shivering in her chains.
“I’m not implying anything. I’m saying that the Princess isn’t as foolish as you and your aunt may think.”
“This is outrageous! I demand that you let me go!”
“My, my – such a hot-head you are. Angel dear I think she needs to be put on ice.”
“As you say Ms. Frost,” smiled the mobster’s daughter.
She stepped back and shrugged off her fox. Underneath she had changed into a shiny silver cat-suit that displayed her fine young body to perfection. She clapped her hands, gloved in matching silver latex.
Two young women in silver satin bikinis came forward, one carrying a metallic case. The girls looked identical, with short blonde hair that was so pale it was nearly white and a decidedly bluish tint to their skin. They were Ms. Frost’s snow-bunnies and they had been specially trained to be unaffected by the harsh temperatures.
The one with the case put it down and her partner helped her open it. White mist immediately began to emanate from inside the metal box. Ignoring the fumes, the girl reached into the case and pulled out an item. With her back to the chained Campbell she held the object up for her Mistress and Angel to inspect.
“Help me put it on.”
The blue-skinned hench-gals dutifully approached the silver-suited blonde and began fiddling around with something at her waist. They stepped away and the teen captive gasped in horror. Adorning the front of Angel’s cat-suit, sparkling spectacularly in the bright light, was a magnificent, ten-inch strap-on dildo. Even more amazing was that the fantastic phallus was made entirely of ice.
“Impressive isn’t it?” teased the Ice Queen. “I hope you’re up to it.”
“I would. Move her to the bed.”
The snow-bunnies unshackled poor Campbell and led her struggling over to an immense mattress covered in wonderful white satin sheets. The cold-hearted lasses threw her down and quickly and efficiently bound her to the bed using white silk cords.
“Please,” the Brit begged pitifully, “I’m so cold.”
“Hush, it will all be over soon. That dildo is made from frozen Lethean Dew. Once it starts melting in your hot pussy, it will be a short trip to the Land of Dreams.”
Angel moved to the bed and slid next to the bound beauty. Amazingly enough, despite her frigid body temperature, Campbell’s cunt was warm and ready. Angel had been steadily stroking her frozen phallus and the friction was causing it to begin melting already. She had no trouble sliding it home.
The Lethean Dew, one of Morpheus’ most potent potions, went to work quickly, making the British teen quite sleepy. The drug, named for the mythical river Lethe of Greek mythology, was a versatile liquid-based opiate that was equally effective when ingested in a drink, breathed in a mist, or absorbed through the skin.
As the ice-cock got warmer the devious dew began to pool with Campbell’s own juices, creating a delightfully drowsy damsel for Ms. Frost to question. The socialite-skier turned femme fatale took her time and watched the proceedings for a while before climbing onto the bed as well. The English captive’s soft moans were punctuated by the slapping of Angel’s thighs against the girl’s tight bum as she fucked her.
“Time to play twenty questions,” the mink-swathed blonde declared. “Question number one…”
“Your plans appear to be coming together nicely Princess.”
“They are progressing reasonably well,” the young lady allowed before taking a sip of champagne. “Not bad for one of the famous Countess’ whores.”
“You are nobody’s whore any longer Mistress,” the Diva insisted. “The world will soon kneel at your feet!”
“I thank you for your confidence Cassandra, but there is much work to do yet. How is the girl called Angel working out?”
“She is amazing your Highness. Not surprising since she’s been selling drugs and pimping girls in Gotham nightclubs since she was about sixteen. One of the benefits of having a crime boss as your daddy I suppose.”
“Crime boss?” Beauty snorted derisively. “Vincent Santangelo is a thug and nothing more. As I understand it he owes his current position to the death of Harvey ‘Two-face’ Dent and nothing more. The daughter is the brains of that family.”
“Perhaps so Princess, but he is no less powerful for it. His business interests, however he came by them, are quite extensive and he has agreements with the leaders of the Russian and Chinese mobs in Gotham. I would take him lightly.”
The Princess smiled. “Don’t worry darling, I have plans for dealing with Mr. Santangelo. And if all goes well, I will gain control of Little Moscow and Chinatown as well, all in one fell swoop.”
The Diva was concerned but decided to let the matter drop, a wise move considering the Princess’ oft-volatile nature.
“Shall I have my song-birds drug Lady Anastasia?” she asked, changing the subject. “I assume you’ll be interrogating her personally.”
“That won’t be necessary. Anastasia has been under my control for months and her mother as well.”
The Diva was unable to contain her surprise. She knew that the Princess was formidable, but the Countess was one of the most powerful women in Europe, if not the world. And Beauty, a mere girl, had apparently subjugated her to her will. Formidable indeed.
“Don’t look so shocked Cassandra. The Countess is just a woman, the same as you. If I can bend you to my whims, why not her. Why not anyone? Lord Morpheus has made me powerful; more powerful than even he knows. But he will learn. It will be too late by far, but he will certainly learn.”
The Diva smiled at her Mistress but chills ran up her spine. She owed her loyalty to the young woman, for reasons she didn’t even understand. Lord Morpheus himself didn’t know the extent of his beloved’s influence in the Royal Court or the intrigues against her. She could only hope that the impending flood didn’t drown her as well.
She was saved by having to consider the unpleasant proposition further by the timely arrival of Delilah Davenport and Jacqueline Frost accompanied by Dreamy and Angel respectively.
“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me that I was wrong and the Duchess fully supports me?”
The Ice Queen chuckled at the joke.
“Not exactly Highness.”
“How naughty has Lady Fogg been?”
“Very Princess,” put in the Dream Lady. “She has been brain-washing the lower ladies using her ‘Mind-Fogger’.”
“How many has she gotten to?”
“All of them Princess.”
Beauty was obviously taken aback by that information, but she hid her shock well by fitting a fresh cigarette into her holder and allowing the Diva to light it. She hadn’t expected the Duchess’ claws to be sunk so deeply into the Court.
“And the Next? What of Lady Midnight?”
“According to the twins she is to be next Princess,” Miss Frost informed her. “Apparently her business assistants, Sarah Barnes and Colby Carrington have been doing some recruiting inside the Court as well as at EtherGen. Lady Midnight’s slaves have been compromised.”
“The Brazilian sluts? I can’t say I’m surprised, I didn’t trust them when they helped us kidnap Nocturna to begin with.”
“Should we warn her Mistress?”
“Not just yet. I wouldn’t want the Duchess to get suspicious. The twins are in the car?”
“Nice and comfy Princess. Are you going to hypnotize them now?”
“Perhaps,” the young brunette replied noncommittally. “If it suits me.”
She motioned to Anastasia who was still sandwiched between Opera and Aria, her leather pants undone and perilously close to being pulled completely off. The French girl was obviously enjoying herself and pouted as she stood.
“Leave them unzipped,” Beauty told her shortly when she started to do up her pants. “You will walk out like that so that everyone can see what a whore you are with no panties on under your pants.”
Mademoiselle du Sommeil hung her head as if shamed, but Beauty knew better. Marching through the crowd with her pussy showing would get Anastasia quite aroused as the French teen was a renowned exhibitionist.
The Diva escorted Beauty and Anastasia to the club’s private entrance. The redhead drew quite a few glances as her pants inched ever closer to her knees as she walked. Her neatly trimmed bush was the same shade as her hair, remarkable given the fact that she wasn’t even naturally red.
The Princess stopped at the door and turned to Cassandra. They kissed cheeks in the European fashion and stood chatting quietly, while Anastasia took the time to play with herself much to the visual benefit of Studio 69’s bouncers.
“The limo is ready?” Beauty asked.
“I’ve had one of my dazzling disco-balls installed,” the Diva confirmed. “The twins will find it thoroughly entrancing.”
The women shared a smile, a decidedly evil smile.
“Au revoir Cassandra. Anastasia stop fingering yourself and get in the car.”
The redhead gave the bouncers an apologetic shrug and followed her mistress into the limo. The door closed behind them and it pulled smoothly away from the curb.
“Do you think she suspects anything Cassandra?”
The Diva turned to see her cousin, Lorelei standing in the doorway.
“You shouldn’t be here Siren,” she chided her famous villainess relative. “Someone could have seen you.”
“I was not seen,” the slinky silver-gowned femme assured her younger cousin. “And besides, if I were I would just sing them a little lullaby and they would forget that they ever saw me.”
“Be that as it may, the plan was for you to remain undiscovered for as long as possible. We are treading on dangerous ground here and the slightest misstep could cost us everything. You must be patient if we are to get revenge against Nightwing and Batgirl for ruining your voice.”
The Siren scowled but said nothing else. There was nothing to say, she knew her cousin was right. But she would have her sweet revenge. Soon Batgirl and Nightwing would dance to her tune.
“And what of our other plans? Any news from Le Chanteuse?”
“Fantasia has succeeded in gaining the Countess’ trust. She will be performing tonight at her club Cabaret. I have arranged for Mr. Wayne’s former ward, Dick Grayson to be there. She has a special number planned just for him.”
“Excellent. Bruce Wayne escaped my spell once but he won’t be so lucky this time. With his young friend under our control he won’t stand a chance.”
“Once again Siren, I must warn you to be cautious. It seems that Princess Beauty has more control over the Countess than we might have thought. We must be careful that she doesn’t find out that Le Chanteuse really works for you.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much dear. After all, the Princess thinks she controls you as well and we both know how true that is.”
The silver-gowned Siren began to hum a little melody and the Diva’s eyes immediately glazed over. It was true that singing the anecdote note to spring Bruce Wayne from his spell had done something to her voice. She could no longer hypnotize men to her will. However, once she had healed properly she had discovered that she had developed new talents to compensate.
It had taken a long time to retrain her instrument, but she was now ready to wield it against her enemies.
“Come Cassandra,” she commanded as she headed back into the club, “I want you to listen to a new song I’m working on for Batgirl. I think that it’s my best work yet.”
Well Todd was right about the place being classy and sophisticated, Dick thought as he sat and took in the ambiance of Cabaret. The club was plushly furnished and dimly lit, designed he supposed, to resemble a high-class Parisian brothel. The clientele was well-dressed and well-behaved, consisting mostly of young men like himself.
It wasn’t hard to see why. The waitresses all wore sexy little French maid outfits and the entertainment consisted of scantily clad women singing and dancing for the patrons’ enjoyment. Dick sipped his champagne and pretended to be having a good time. Bruce had impressed upon him the benefit of being seen as a wealthy, irresponsible playboy; no-one would ever think that he was really a crime-fighter.
The truth was that young Mr. Grayson wasn’t having to act very much at all; he really was having fun. And it wasn’t long before his evening took a decided turn for the better.
A coterie of corseted cuties had just finished performing a rousing Can-Can and Dick was grinning his approval to Todd, when a gorgeous blonde came sauntering over on ridiculously high spiked-heel shoes. The bombshell was wrapped in a form-fitting, floor-length gown of shocking canary-yellow latex that showed off her fabulously feminine figure to the utmost advantage. The matching feather boa did little to conceal, but rather brought attention to her impressive assets.
“Cheri!” Todd exclaimed rising and kissing the blonde on both cheeks. “Dick Grayson, meet Cheri Le Gams, the sexiest woman in Gotham City.”
Dick of course recognized the woman right away. When Todd called her the ‘sexiest woman in Gotham’ he was being literal as Cheri had been so awarded that title several years ago. That had led the beautiful bondage aficionado to be kidnapped and nearly killed by Catwoman, only to be rescued by Batgirl.
“Oh monsieur Todd, zat was years ago,” the blonde exclaimed in a thick French accent as she turned to Dick.
“Monsieur Todd is such a flatterer,” she said smiling as she offered him a black latex-gloved hand.
“But he’s right ma’am,” Dick said earnestly. “You’re beautiful.”
“Aren’t you so sweet?”
The blonde beamed at him and Dick leaned over to kiss her hand to hide his embarrassment.
“And a gentleman as well. Monsieur Todd could learn a thing or two from vous.”
She put her hands on her hips to feign indignation but the look she gave Todd left no doubt that she liked the fact that he wasn’t a complete gentleman.
“Cheri is the manager here Dick,” Todd put in. “He was just saying how much fun he was having Cheri.”
“Oui? Zat is good, but you haven’t seen anything yet. M'am'selle Fantasia Serenade, ze famous Chanteuse of Paree’ will be on shortly.”
The lights began to dim and the blonde shushed them and sat down at their table. Dick and Todd took their seats as well.
A single spot-light shone on the empty stage. The curtain parted to reveal a woman standing behind a microphone. And for the second time that night Dick Grayson fell in love at first sight.
The woman was, in a word, stunning. Shiny raven-black locks were slicked straight back to highlight a face so perfect that it deserved to be hanging on a museum wall like the work of art that it was. Her skin was pale, almost ghostly, yet utterly flawless. Her lips were full and blood-red, sensuous and her smoky-lidded eyes shone like opals, dark and mysterious. Without question though, her most dominating feature was her nose. Large, but not too large, it gave her a fierce, hawk-like expression which could be either commanding or sensual, depending on her mood.
Not surprisingly, the woman's body was the equal to her face if not its better. A black strapless sequined corset hugged her tiny waist and boosted her delectable décolletage. The midnight-black garment, paired with satin opera gloves, fishnet hose, and thigh-high leather boots, contrasted against her glowing, alabaster skin. A more perfect body could not have been sculpted by Rodin himself. And Dick noticed none of it.
For the entrancing creature known as Fantasia Serenade held in one of her tight-gloved hands... a long, black cigarette holder. The enticing instrument, white cigarette smoldering at its tip, had to be a full foot-and-a-half long. He stared transfixed as she slowly raised the mouthpiece to her ruby lips and took a slow French-inhale before blowing the smoke towards the ceiling in a lazy cloud. Dick’s cock went rigid instantly. Then she began to sing.
It was a slow, sad-sounding song though he couldn’t understand the lyrics as she sung in French. Dick didn’t care; it was the most beautiful song he had ever heard. And she was the most beautiful singer. The Chanteuse stood perfectly still, looking sorrowfully towards the floor as she poured her heart out in song. She would occasionally take a drag on her holder, smoke wafting from between her lips as she sang her mournful tune.
He didn’t know how long the tune went on; it seemed like forever. The haunting melody had touched him in an odd way, sweeping him along on its current. When the last sweet note had died away, the audience applauded appreciatively, none more vociferously than Dick.
When the clapping had stopped he was surprised to find himself on his feet. He looked around, feeling the eyes on him, embarrassed at the display and hoping that nobody would notice his hard-on. He slowly took his seat and looked back to the stage.
He was mortified to see that the lovely siren was staring at him. Her cigarette holder was clenched tightly in the side of her mouth as she studied him. Finally she gave him a small smile, grinning around the holder before removing it and exhaling right at him. Dick quite nearly blew a load in his pants.
“You like oui?”
Dick looked around, startled that Cheri had spoken. He had forgotten that there was even anyone else in the room.
“She’s a very talented singer,” he replied uncomfortably under the blonde femme’s knowing smile.
Cheri and Todd shared a look and Dick turned back to the stage. Half a dozen, tuxedo-clad women had joined Fantasia on the stage. She had donned a black silk top-hat and a white mink stole was draped over her shoulders. In her hands was a black cane tipped in ivory. Much to Dick’s dismay the exotic holder was gone.
The band began to play once more and the top-hatted femme started in on an upbeat version of ‘Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend’ sung in heavily accented English. The women in tuxes began to dance around her, pulling diamonds from inside their jackets and layering them on her neck and wrists as she sang.
When she was adequately bejeweled she came down off the stage and circled through the audience, interacting with them as the song continued. To Dick’s amazement he soon found himself face to face with the exotic beauty.
She was at the point in the song that goes ‘a kiss on the hand may be quite continental, but diamonds are a girl’s best friend’. As she delivered the line she held out her gloved hand to Dick who took it and kissed it. The aroma of her alluring perfume filled his senses. He could have sat their all night sniffing her glove.
He came out of his reverie when she tugged her hand away and he once again blushed in embarrassment. Fantasia gave him a flirtatious wink before moving on to the next table. Dick watched as she moved through the crowd, the smell of her perfume still lingering like a heavenly cloud.
She made her way back to the stage and this time Dick managed to stay in his seat, although he still clapped louder than anybody. It was a good thing he remained seated too, as he was now very aroused. The Chanteuse’s enticing cologne and the feeling of her satin glove on his lips had been almost too much to bear.
Mademoiselle Serenade blew the audience a kiss and disappeared behind the curtain. Dick continued to stare at the stage until Cheri squealed in delight causing him to jump slightly. He turned to see Todd and the blonde standing as a woman approached them. And it was quite a woman.
She was tall and statuesquely built, straight blonde hair falling to her shoulders. Her face was at once sensuous and commanding with large, startlingly green eyes and ripe, full lips. She would have looked like a porn-star or whore, if not for the regal bearing with which she carried herself.
Her aristocratic arrogance left no doubt that this woman was more than just a pretty face and a nice body. Although her body was very nice indeed. Dick was so taken by her impressive aura that he hadn’t realized that her gauzy black gown was nearly see-through. But as she joined their little group he couldn’t help but notice her lush breasts, erect nipples straining against the flimsy fabric.
Dick swallowed hard and stood, praying that his erection wasn’t as noticeable.
“Comtesse what a wonderful surprise!” Cheri exclaimed as she dipped into a curtsy. The two women exchanged kisses on the cheek.
“Monsieur Todd, Monsieur Dick, zis is ze Comtesse Antoinette du Sommeil. She ees ze owner of Cabaret. Comtesse, zis is Monsieur Dick and Monsieur Todd. Zey are two of Gotham City’s wealthiest young men.”
Dick bowed, not knowing what else to do, and Todd followed suit. He then took her offered hand, which was gloved in the same gossamer silk as her gown, and kissed it. Once again Todd did the same. The Countess looked unimpressed by their social skills.
“Monsieur Todd is a regular at ze club Comtesse. And I’m sure zat Monsieur Dick will be as well. I zink zat he is quite smitten with M'am'selle Serenade.”
Dick was so embarrassed that he wanted to crawl under the table, but the Countess smiled for the first time.
“He isn’t the first man to fall for Le Chanteuse’s charms oui?” Her English was perfect with just the hint of an accent.
The two women laughed, which did nothing to ease Dick’s discomfort. He thought about protesting but knew that it would be futile. He was saved from having to give any answer at all when one of the French-maids/waitresses appeared at the table.
“Excusez-moi Comtesse, Mademoiselle Le Gams, but Mademoiselle Serenade requests the presence of the young Monsieur in her boudoir.”
Dick couldn’t believe it. Why would she want to see him? He hoped it wasn’t to berate him for his idiotic behavior during her performance.
“Well Romeo you don’t want to keep her waiting,” Todd teased.
Dick sighed and made his pleasantries to the two women, shooting Todd a parting glance as the maid led him away. His stomach was churning as he followed the sexy little blonde through a door at the side of the stage and up a flight of stairs. At the top there was another door with a star emblazoned on it that read FANTASIA. The maid knocked lightly.
“Come,” spoke a commanding female voice from inside.
The maid opened the door and stepped aside. Dick took a deep breath and entered the room…
“I trust it was not too difficult to get your friend here Todd?” the Countess asked as they sauntered over to a nearby private room. They sat down on a leather sofa, the two blondes closely flanking the young millionaire.
“Well he was little hesitant Countess but I talked him into it,” he replied, eager to impress the foreign femme.
“Yes, you talk very well,” the Countess remarked dryly.
“Thank you Countess,” Todd continued, mistaking her sarcasm for a compliment. “But how did you know that he would go for the singer like that?”
“Mademoiselle Serenade’s gloves were laced with a powerful pheromone perfume. Although I must admit that it may not have even been necessary. He seemed quite taken with her as soon as she took the stage.”
“Oui,” agreed Cheri, “I zink ‘e had an erection as soon as ‘e saw ‘er.”
“What are you going to do with him?” Todd asked.
“That mon petite chien, is none of your concern. You will worry about pleasing moi and nothing else.”
“Sorry Countess,” Todd muttered pouting.
“Oh don’t be sad darling,” Cheri cooed, stroking the front of his pants. “I promised ‘im a reward if ‘e did well tonight Antoinette.”
“Of course you are right Cheri,” the Countess replied thoughtfully. “After all, this is but the first of many services that he will perform for moi, oui?”
She added her own hand to that of Ms. Le Gams and they soon had him nice and hard. She deftly unzipped him with the practiced hand of a courtesan and freed his swelling member from his pants.
Todd grinned as the two gloved blondes took turns stroking and squeezing his cock and balls. He leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the women work their magic. While he wasn’t looking the Countess nodded to Cheri in a silent signal.
The blonde giggled and pulled out her purse. She pulled out a gold lipstick tube and carefully applied a slick coat of crimson to her lips.
“Keep your eyes closed darling,” she cooed. “You are going to get a big surprise.”
Todd kept his eyes shut, his lips parted slightly in anticipation. He could sense that Cheri was leaning close to him and he waited for his reward. He gasped when instead of the expected kiss, the French femme’s lips slid over his hard cock. She was an expert at fellatio, as so many French girls are, and she quickly had him on the brink of orgasm.
“Oh Todd, mon petite chien?” the Countess asked referring to him as her little puppy.
“Yes Countess,” he replied breathlessly.
“What could possibly be more relaxing than one of Cheri’s blowjobs?”
“Ah, nothing Countess,” he agreed fervently with a sigh.
“You’re wrong darling. It’s one of Cheri’s blowjobs when she’s wearing lullaby lipstick. Bonne nuit mon amour.”
His eyes shot open but only for a moment. Cheri’s lipstick was already smeared all over his member and the anesthetic it contained had seeped into his bloodstream. He saw the Countess smiling at him through his quickly wavering vision. His cock exploded in orgasm an instant before the darkness closed in.
The Countess snapped her fingers and a waitress leapt to attention. “Oui Madam?”
“Make sure our sleepy friend gets home safely tonight.”
“And as for you mon belle Cheri, let us see how Fantasia is making out with young Monsieur Grayson shall we?”
Dick found himself in a small sitting room with several comfortable-looking chairs. At one end of the room was a doorway, covered by a beaded curtain. He hesitated, unsure of what to do. The maid had closed the door behind him, so he was all alone.
“Um, hello?” he called out tentatively.
“Back here darling,” a woman’s voice called out.
He moved towards the door and carefully moved the beads aside to enter. This room was much larger and opulently decorated in the same fashion as the club downstairs, which for some reason made him think of a Parisian brothel. It was probably the abundance of red velvet that made him think that.
An assortment of women’s clothes, shoes, and lingerie littered the floor and was strewn about on the furniture as well. This consisted of several chairs upholstered in the aforementioned velvet, a matching divan, and a large round bed draped in scarlet satin sheets.
There was a gilded make-up table against one wall, various bottles, jars, and tubes spread out in front of the large, well-lit mirror. Against the other wall was a large glass cabinet. Its shelves were filled with figurines. Upon closer inspection, Dick saw that they were angels of various sizes and descriptions. They ranged from tiny trinkets to two life-size statues that flanked either side of the doorway. Looking up he noticed that more cherubs decorated the molding around the ceiling, which was adorned with a painting that would rival the Sistine chapel.
Unlike the rest of the room, the angels were neatly arranged and obviously well cared for. The only other clean area in the entire space was the immaculately made-up bed. The final item of note was an ornate silk dressing screen which, in keeping with the room’s theme, was decorated with frolicking angels. Dick surmised that this was where Fantasia must be hiding.
“I’ll just be a moment darling,” the disembodied voice told him from behind the screen, confirming his guess. “I need to change out of my costume. Feel free to make yourself comfortable.”
“Ok,” he replied unsurely, not knowing what else to say. His eyes were locked on the screen, behind which the woman of his dreams was most probably nude.
As he watched various items of clothing began to appear over the screen. First one long glove was draped over the top, quickly followed by its twin. The black corset came next and then each of the fishnet stockings. Dick swallowed hard and began to sit down on one of the chairs. He felt something underneath him and without looking pulled it out.
Holding it up, he noticed that it was a black lace bra. He quickly jumped up and dropped it back onto the chair. Looking around he saw that the bed was the only place he could safely sit. He decided to stand.
“Be a dear won’t you and hand me my robe darling?” the Chanteuse requested sweetly. “I think it’s on the table next to the bed.”
Dick looked around and saw a flimsy piece of fabric thrown over the nightstand. He picked up the filmy black garment (it was so skimpy that it could hardly be called a robe) and started to turn away. But when he saw what was on the table under that garment he froze. There on the table was a white porcelain box filled with long white cigarettes. Next to it was a collection of perhaps a dozen holders in various lengths and colors.
Dick stood and stared at the items, an increasing tightness growing in his groin.
“Did you find it darling?” Fantasia asked again, interrupting his rather impure thoughts.
“Oh, yes here it is!”
He tore is gaze from the table and hurried over to the screen. Once there he froze once again. Should he just toss it over the top? Maybe reach around the side? He didn’t want to seem too forward. His dilemma was solved when the femme extended a smooth-skinned arm out to the side. Dick placed the ‘robe’ in her out-stretched hand and quickly stepped away, not wanting to see anything that he shouldn’t.
“Merci beaucoup darling,” she purred.
A moment later she emerged from behind the screen. She gracefully extended one arm and leaned against the side of the divider. The gauzy robe was belted loosely around her waist and Dick’s assessment proved correct; the gossamer garment was even more transparent than the Countess’ dress had been. The dark outline of her bra and panties was easily recognized through the sheer fabric of the dressing gown. Her luxurious black hair hung loose down to her shoulders. Dick could do nothing but stare.
“Well darling,” the sexy siren finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I suppose proper introductions are in order. I am Fantasia Serenade, diva extraordinaire. And you are…”
“Grayson,” Dick spurted, remembering his manners. “Dick Grayson. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mademoiselle Serenade.”
“The pleasure is mine darling. And please call me Fantasia.”
She stepped forward and presented her hand. Dick took it nervously; it was milky-white and smooth, and surprisingly warm to the touch. He raised it to his lips and kissed it, making sure not to linger overly long this time as much as he longed to.
“Such a gentleman Monsieur Grayson.”
“Please call me Dick,” he insisted hurriedly.
“No,” she decided. “I shall call you Richard. It is much more manly-sounding oui?”
“Um sure,” Dick replied. He had always preferred Dick to Richard, but he couldn’t possibly say no to this woman. And it sounded so sexy when she said it in her French accent – Reeshard.
She smiled at him.
“I apologize for the mess,” she sighed pulling one of her satin gloves from where it hung on the screen. “My robe wasn’t too hard to find I hope.”
“Oh no, I was just admiring your collection of… angels,” Dick lied with a quick glance at the table where her cigarette holders sat.
“Ah oui,” she replied moving towards the glass case. “They are one of my passions.”
She turned back to face him and smoothly sat down on the bed and crossed her silky smooth legs. She slowly ran the glove through her hand. “But not my only passion.”
“Your act was excellent,” Dick told her; hastily changing the subject. “You have a beautiful voice.”
“Merci. Perhaps you would enjoy a solo performance oui?” She patted the bed next to her. “Come Reeshard sit.”
Dick moved over and sat down, a few feet farther away than she had indicated.
“Why so tense darling?” she asked sliding closer to him. “Here. I will sing you a nice relaxing song, hmmm? Just close your eyes and listen.”
She began to hum lightly, a simple little melody. Dick did as she said and shut his eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the song. After a few moments, he did feel himself getting less tense, the wordless tune lulling him. He felt her move closer and his muscles tensed when he felt her hands on his shoulders. But the song continued, her lips very close to his ear, and he quickly relaxed again.
“Mmmm, so nice oui?” she whispered in between her humming. “Oui, relax.”
Dick felt something on his face, smooth and silky. She ran the satin glove along his cheek and then gently used it to blindfold him. He opened his eyes, but saw only velvety darkness. The Chanteuse’s melody continued to soothe him and his eyes closed once more. The seductive songstress slowly removed his jacket and tie, and began to unbutton his shirt. She pushed him onto his back and swiftly rolled over to straddle his hips. He groaned as she reached back and rubbed him through his trousers. He was nice and hard.
Fantasia looked down at her aroused little plaything, a sly, satisfied smile on her face. The lullaby that the Siren had taught her had worked perfectly. The rich, young man was completely under her control. She could have put him to sleep completely with just a few more notes, but she wasn’t finished with him quite yet.
Reaching behind again she quickly unbuttoned his pants. The sexy songbird was very turned on herself and wanted him now. She lifted her hips and moved over him, sliding her wet, wanting pussy over his pole. She began to grind up and down, her restful melody turning to sharp moans of pleasure.
“Oh Reeshard!” she squealed as Dick began to move in time to the rhythm of her body.
He was becoming more alert, but she didn’t care. She was completely driven by need. Her need for his strong, young cock. She gave in to the sweeping tide and rode her young stallion towards ecstasy.
Nearly an hour later an exhausted Fantasia rolled off of Dick and collapsed against the satin pillows. Her stallion had proven to be a true thoroughbred, taking her in more positions and with more passion than she could even imagine. They lay next to each other for several minutes catching their breath, naked bodies glistening with sweat entwined in the wrinkled satin sheets.
“Reeshard, I had no idea that you were so… athletic,” she cooed breathlessly. “That was merveilleux.”
“You were incredible as well,” the spent youth replied. “You’re the most incredible woman that I’ve ever met.”
“Aren’t you sweet,” she said rolling onto her side and giving him a peck on the cheek. “Would you be a dear and hand me a cigarette?”
She pointed to the bedside table, where the porcelain box of cigarettes and assortment of holders were. He leaned over and selected a cigarette from the box. Impulsively he grabbed one of the holders; a six-inch red lacquered one. He fitted the long, all-white cigarette into the holder and handed them both to the lovely femme lying next to him.
“Merci,” she said, accepting the items with a slight look of surprise. She had said nothing about a holder. Still, this would work out quite nicely. “I’ll need the lighter as well. It’s the angel.”
Dick rolled over once more and picked up the white porcelain angel that matched the cigarette box. Fantasia was waiting, holder held gently between her pursed lips. Dick fumbled with the lighter for a moment, suddenly nervous again in the presence of such an elegant woman. Her soft hand closed over his and guided his finger to the lighting mechanism. A small flame jumped from the angel’s mouth and she brought it to the cigarette’s tip.
Dick watched closely as her cheeks hollowed briefly in a quick snap inhale. She nodded her thanks and turned away to exhale towards the ceiling. He never took his eyes off her.
“Such an attentive boy,” she teased as he stared at her lips. She lay on her side facing him, propped on an elbow. She placed the holder in her mouth; tip clenched between her teeth, and moved her hand down to the soft hair of his tight abdomen. Her fingers trailed teasingly down toward his groin.
“Mon dieu Reeshard!” she exclaimed when she felt the hard steel of his erection. “Ready again so soon?!”
Dick was ready, the sight of the beautiful woman using the holder fueling his young libido. He leaned forward to kiss her. She put her hand to his lips and held him at bay.
“I would love to take you for another ride darling,” she murmured around the holder as she drew herself up to a sitting position. “But I’m afraid the Countess has other plans for you.”
She took the holder from her mouth and removed the cigarette.
“Faites de beaux rêves,” she whispered. “Sweet dreams lover.”
She leaned towards him and blew into the empty holder. A thick red powder shot out directly into his eyes…
Dick saw her raise the holder to his lips as if in slow motion. He knew what she was about to do, but instead of turning away he raised his face towards the open end of the holder. His cock swelled with desire as he waited to be put to bed at the hands of this gorgeous creature. It was a fantasy come to life. The red powder burst forth, smothering his face in a velvety, scarlet cloud. His cock erupted in unison, releasing years of pent-up adolescent fascination. When the dust settled he was sound asleep, a beatific smile on his face.
Fantasia looked at him wonderingly as she took a drag on the cigarette. There was no way he could have expected her to gas him and yet instead of surprise his expression had been one of… expectance. It was almost as if he had enjoyed being knocked out.
“That took longer than I thought it would,” said a female voice.
Fantasia looked up from her sleeping angel to see the Countess and Cheri coming through the doorway.
“Pardon Comtesse. I did not mean to make you wait. The boy was more… vigorous than I expected.”
“Oui, and quite limber as well, no? I might have to try him for myself.”
For some reason the thought of the Countess entangling Richard in one of her bondage sessions sent a surge of jealousy through Fantasia. She wanted him for herself.
“Oh well, there is no time now. We need to get sleeping beauty here home to his own bed.”
She clapped her hands and two well-built men in suits emerged from the outer room.
“Take him to the car,” the Countess commanded. “And don’t forget his clothes.”
She followed her goons to the door, Cheri heeling her like an obedient puppy. “You should get some sleep as well Chanteuse. Tomorrow will be another busy day.”
The women left and Fantasia lay back in her bed. She tried to sleep but simply couldn’t. She spent the next hour tossing and turning as she replayed Richard’s knockout over and over in her mind. Her leaning towards him, a smile of superiority growing on her lips. His own expectant grin as she brought the trick holder to her mouth. And finally his cock exploding in orgasm as he succumbed to the sleeping dust.
Just thinking about it was making her hot all over. She fingered herself to her fourth orgasm of the evening and nodded off, her fingers sticky with her own juices. Her dreams were all of Richard.
The Huntress awoke with a splitting headache. When her eyes adjusted she could tell that she was in some sort of hospitable room. She weakly attempted to raise her head, but she seemed to be strapped to the bed. A pair of tall, blonde, buxom nurses in white latex strode into the room.
“Well, looks who’s awake,” commented one. She came and sat on the side of the bed and gently brushed the hair away from the heroine’s face with a latex-gloved hand.
“How’s your head dear?” she asked in a concerned, motherly tone which was quite at odds with her sexy looks. “You have quite a little bump there.”
“Hurts,” croaked the Huntress. Her mouth felt like dried parchment. “Where am I?” she groaned as she again tried to struggle to a sitting position.
“Now, now dear just try to relax,” instructed the naughty looking nurse. “The doctor will be able to see you soon. He’ll make you feel ever so much better.”
“Dr? Who, what Dr? Let me up,” insisted the woozy crime-fighter.
“Nurse Wanda, I think our patient needs more sleep,” commented the large-breasted medical professional.
“I agree Nurse Wendy,” replied her equally endowed cohort as she approached the bed from behind.
The Huntress could smell a strong medicinal odor in the room, a distressingly familiar scent. Before she knew what was happening, the nurse had clamped a plastic mask over her mouth and nose. The odor of chloroform became overwhelming. She held her breath and shook her head but the nurse’s grip was surprisingly strong.
“This would be much easier if you would just relax and breathe darling,” lectured Nurse Wendy.
The Huntress continued to struggle.
“Well then, we’ll just do this the hard way.” She grabbed one of the heroine’s ample tits and gave a sharp twist to her nipple.
The captive crime-fighter gasped and inhaled a lungful of sickly sweet chloroform. Her head swam and she tried to gulp oxygen, but got only liquid sleep instead. It was like trying to breathe underwater. The nurses’ comforting faces filled her wavering vision. She fought for consciousness but it was a losing battle. The brave heroine’s body went limp and she drifted back to Dreamland.
The next several days drifted by in a haze of sleep and bad dreams. Every time she came awake it seemed a nurse was there with the ever-present chloroform, sending her back to the undersea world of her nightmares. She considered that she might be in a coma, the malevolent nurses a mere fancy. But the mask seemed real enough when it was held over her face, making breathing impossible.
She thought she might still be dreaming when she awoke, not strapped into the hospitable bed that had been her torment, but on a comfortable day bed covered in silky white sheets. She stretched out her tired muscles and found that her head was surprisingly clear, not the perpetual fog she had become accustomed to. Bright sunlight was streaming through a pair of open French doors, and a light breeze wafted through the room. The Huntress gulped the fresh air greedily, seemingly the first breath not tainted with chloroform that she had taken in months.
She slid from the bed and noticed her clothes for the first time. She wore a skimpy but elegant white satin chemise with a lace bodice that could barely contain her breasts. The lingerie was barely long enough to cover her private area, which, the Huntress was horrified to discover, had been shaved clean. Her long powerful legs had been shaved as well and were clad in white knee-high stockings with little white satin bows.
The attractive heroine was embarrassed and felt quite naked. She looked around the room and noticed a white satin robe hanging on the back of a chair. She pulled the loose fitting material around her, and while it wasn’t much longer than the chemise, at least it covered her chest somewhat. The chair that had held the robe was situated in front of a make-up table with a large mirror. She expected to look a mess, like someone who had been bed-bound and ill for weeks. Instead she almost didn’t recognize the beautiful face that stared back in the mirror. Her lips were full and red, cheeks tastefully blushed, and eyelids painted a deep purple that complemented her violet eyes perfectly. Her brunette hair was thick and glossy, hanging down over her shoulders in shining waves. She had never looked so good. Maybe she had been in a coma, thought the confused crime-fighter. Maybe the blonde nurses with the chloroform had been part of her nightmares and she was really at some sort of rehabilitation center or something.
Another breeze swept through the room carrying with it the fantastic smell of fresh-baked bread. All of a sudden Helena realized how hungry she was. Starving was more like it. She hurried out through the French doors and onto a large balcony. A white wicker table was set up with a fantastic feast. The afore-mentioned bread was accompanied by a variety of pastries and fruits, including a large silver bowl of strawberries complete with fresh cream for dipping. There was also a selection of fresh fruit juices, a jug of ice-cold milk, and even champagne. The famished femme sat down on a fantastically soft white silk divan and began eating with the vigor of someone who had been asleep for days, which of course she had. She was so intent on sating her hunger that she didn’t notice the handsome, older man standing in the doorway watching her from behind. After several moments Helena’s nose wrinkled, the unmistakable odor of a cigar filled the air. It was a smell that she remembered from her childhood, a smell that she associated with the mobsters that she so despised.
Alarmed, the heroine spun around on the divan. Standing at the entrance to her room was a tall silver-haired gentleman. He was wearing loose-fitting black trousers and a long white lab coat. This, along with the stethoscope hanging around his neck, told her that he must be a doctor.
“Good morning my dear,” he greeted. “I see you have a healthy appetite. That’s good; you’ll need your strength.”
“Who are you? Where am I?” demanded the Huntress in a commanding voice of authority.
“I expected that you would have some questions. First, allow me to introduce myself. I am Dr. Alexander Morpheus, the world’s foremost sleep specialist. You are at my private mansion retreat in the Gotham Hills, where I have been supervising your care as you recovered from a coma. Do you remember anything?”
“Yes, I mean no, I mean I guess a little bit. Everything is a little hazy.”
“A little memory loss is to be expected,” he explained. “After all you took quite a blow to the head.”
He walked towards the table and seated himself in a cushioned wicker chair to Helena’s right. He took a puff on his cigar and motioned to the table. “Please continue with your breakfast.”
He saw her eyeing his cigar disapprovingly as she turned back to face the table.
“Does my cigar offend you?” he asked. “I think if you give it a chance you’ll find that the smoke is quite relaxing.”
“Yes relaxing,” agreed the Huntress somewhat timidly. She was beginning to get a little dizzy and it was making her confused. The gentlemanly doctor poured her some milk, which she gulped down. For some reason it seemed very important to please the handsome older man. Morpheus smiled to himself as he watched milk dribble down the girl’s chin. He reached out and gently wiped off her chin causing her to blush and giggle, like a little schoolgirl.
“Now my dear, I want you to concentrate. Think back to the night when you bumped your head. What do you remember?”
“It… it was dark,” she began. “There were two women, hookers I think.”
“Good, go on.”
“There was a limo and two more women. I confronted them. Someone hit me on the head. Then I woke up here. That’s all I remember.”
“That’s good my dear, but are you sure there isn’t anything else?”
She shook her head.
“I think I may be able to jog your memory a bit. Miss Davenport, Lady Winter, could you come here please?”
The two women, who had been waiting just inside the room, strolled out onto the balcony. The Russian blonde was draped in white leather from head to toe, while the Southern Madam was somewhat more conservative, but still quite sexy, in a blue pinstripe skirt and jacket.
The Huntress recognized the evil pair immediately. Her muscles tensed for the attack as she rose from the divan ready to spring. Sandman then spoke two words, “Sleep Slave,” and the comely crime-fighter fell into an instant trance.
The dream doctor stood and came to her side. He blew some cigar smoke into her face and regarded the dazed heroine.
“The nurses did a fine job of conditioning her,” he commented. “The trigger phrase worked like a dream.”
“Yes,” agreed the White Wolf. “It took the fight right out of her.”
“True, but it won’t last long. She will need to be conditioned more deeply to be a proper slave slut. I would have liked for you to undergo my Dream Therapy,” he told the Huntress. “But my Venutian Crystals were needed for a more important guest – Madison Sinclair. For now my sleep sand will have to suffice.”
He took his stethoscope and pointed it at the Huntress’ face. A fine white powder shot out and she fell into an even deeper somnambulistic state.
“Can you here me Huntress?”
“Are you asleep?”
“Excellent. You will listen very closely to my commands. Do you understand?”
“When you are in my presence you will cease to be the Huntress. You will be my pet; my sex slave; my fuck toy.”
“I am your fuck toy.”
“Exactly. Your new name will be Slutress. Whenever you hear the name Slutress, you will fall instantly asleep and do whatever I command. Do you understand Slutress?”
“You will also obey the orders of any of my assistants. This is Natasha Nemerov, the famous White Wolf of the Russian Mob. She is my head of security. You will do as she says. And this is Delilah Davenport, the Dream Lady. I have put her in charge of my new high-class brothel, Maison Rouge. I would be nice to her if I were you, as she is your new boss. After I am finished with you, she is going to ‘turn you out’. That means you are going to be my whore. If you are a good whore, you will work in the finest brothels. I’m sure there are many who would pay dearly to have the famous Huntress. If you displease me, she will put you out on the streets, where you will be the cheapest slut in Gotham, available to any who want you. Are you following me Slutress?”
“Yes Doctor, I am your whore.”
“Quite so. You are the first of my super-heroine harem, but you won’t be the last. You will help me capture all of your little friends. You will also give me assistance in overthrowing the current Mob bosses in Gotham. You know who they are don’t you?”
“The Gotham Mob is run by Vincent Santangelo. The Chinatown Mob is run by a woman known as Madame Chang. Her exact identity is unclear.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that. But you will find out her identity.”
“Good. But that is all for the future; first let’s get to know each other better, shall we? Take off your robe.”
The brunette complied, sliding off the robe to reveal her scantily clad body.
“Lie down on the divan. Spread your legs.”
She did so, reclining on the snow white cushions which so nicely accented her milky white thighs. Sandman moved to one knee next to her and began to caress her tits beneath the filmy material of her chemise. He pushed the thin spaghetti straps off of her shoulders, allowing her creamy mounds to spill out. He toyed with her nipples until they were rock hard to his touch.
“Your nipples will be hard whenever you are in my presence pet,” he told his moaning sex toy. His hands moved down between her legs. “And your pussy must always be wet.”
“Yes doctor,” she panted.
“Are you hungry Delilah?” he asked the sultry Southerner. “Perhaps some strawberries? Natasha, bring them,” he ordered as he motioned the blonde to his side.
His evil aide complied and held the silver bowl for her master.
“Cream?” he inquired.
“Mmm, sure darlin’,” replied the blonde belle grinning sexily.
He dipped the fruit into the bowl of creamy and then rubbed it along the Huntress’ pussy lips. The Dream Lady dipped her head and licked the cream from between her legs. He then spread her labia and eased the berry into her cunt. He used his strong fingers to mash the fruit into little pieces inside her. He finished by adding a large dollop of cream right on her clit.
“Eat her out,” he ordered brusquely. “And don’t be gentle; I want to hear her squeal. Natasha, why don’t you stick that banana in her bum? Excellent.”
He moved towards her head and unzipped his pants. He pulled out his cock and began rubbing it over her hard nipples and soft breasts. He slid his meat between her huge tits and squeezed them together while he fucked them. Meanwhile Ms. Davenport was extracting pieces of strawberry covered in cream from the girl’s pussy with her tongue. Lady Winter had unpeeled a large banana and slid it into her asshole. The Huntress could do nothing but moan in pleasure against the erotic assault on her body. Sandman grabbed a handful of her long black hair and rubbed the head of his cock over her lips.
“Open up whore,” he commanded. The inexperienced heroine tentatively spread her lips and almost choked when he crammed his dick in her mouth. She made several ineffectual noises of protest but he ignored them and simply fucked her open mouth. She quickly realized that she could either suck his cock or choke, so she chose the former. Moments later she was deep-throating him like a Vegas hooker.
“That’s very good slut,” he encouraged as he continued to pound away at her mouth.
“I think some champagne would taste fantastic with those strawberries, da?” commented Natasha airily.
She picked up the bottle of Moet and poured it over the Huntress’ tight belly, letting it spill down to her pussy. Helena gasped as the icy liquid came into contact with her most sensitive area. Her cunt along with the Madam’s face was now a sticky mess of strawberry juice, cream, champagne, and pussy juice. The blonde continued to lap at her gash enjoying the mixture of exotic flavors. Helena came quickly, her body spasming in pleasure. Sandman pulled his dick out of her warm wet hole and orgasmed as well, spilling his hot sticky load in her pretty face.
“Lick it off,” he ordered sticking it back in her mouth.
While she was thus engaged the other blonde had pulled the banana from her butt and was now licking the remnants from her asshole. The hypnotized heroine came again and Sandman decided that she had had enough fun. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small midnight blue velvet pouch with silver stars and golden moons. He opened the pouch and took a handful of powder from it, which he tossed into the Huntress’ cum-covered face.
When the Sandman sprinkles his Sleep Sand in your face the result is instant naptime, and it was no different in this case. The beleaguered crime-fighter fell immediately into a deep satisfying slumber. Sandman began to put his dick back into his pants but then he noticed the Dream Lady staring at him from between the sleeping girl’s legs. Her sensual, society-femme face was smeared with cream, which he found quite arousing.
“Natasha, see that this cunt is cleaned up and put her to bed. I’ll interrogate her later.”
The Russian easily hefted the girl and carried her back into the house. Behind her, the normally lady-like blonde had already replaced the girl on the divan and was sucking their Master’s dick back to full hardness while he fingered her pussy. By the time she had cleaned the girl up a little and dumped her in bed the couple on the patio had begun to fuck. As she waltzed out of the bedroom, the blonde’s throaty growls followed her down the hall. One of the maids in the hallway took one look at Lady Winter’s expression and took off in the opposite direction.
It had been three days since Dick’s encounter with Fantasia Serenade and in that time he had been able to think of little else. The problem was that he couldn’t even remember exactly what had happened. Oh he recalled being invited to the singer’s dressing room and being slightly uncomfortable in her presence, but that’s it.
He awoke in his own bed, naked and reeking of her opulent perfume and other, more personal odors. He supposed he must have slept with her, actually he was sure of it, but he just couldn’t remember any of it. He must have passed out from too much champagne or something. He was so embarrassed that he wouldn’t even think of calling her, much less going to see her again.
So he sat in his office at Wayne Enterprises and tried to work. His mind however, kept on drifting back to Fantasia. Since he wasn’t getting anything done anyway, he decided to read the paper. He was flipping through when an item in the gossip columns caught his attention. Dawn Robbins, the film starlet, was in town filming a new movie.
The blonde bombshell was one of the first women Dick had had a crush on, and he sat back and reminisced about her long holder and how sexy she looked smoking with it. He was becoming a bit aroused and he closed his eyes and began to touch himself.
He daydreamed that he was at a fancy party with the lovely Miss Robbins. She was dressed in dazzling, gold satin gown and was smoking from a long gold holder. They were mingling with the other guests and every man there was giving him envious looks.
After a while Dawn grabbed him playfully and pulled him into the bedroom. The guests coats had been piled on the bed and she pushed him down on a lush mink coat and began to kiss him. Soon she was on top of him, her expensive gown thrown on the floor and her panties pushed aside in her haste to have him. They made love wildly, the fur under him and the blonde goddess above him.
Finally she collapsed on his chest, both of them spent from their torrid exertions.
“That was lovely,” remarked a woman in a sultry French accent.
Dick looked up and from the shadows emerged the Chanteuse herself, Fantasia Serenade. Dressed in scarlet satin, the pale-skinned brunette slinked over sat beside him on the bed. She held a red holder in one gloved hand, and she brought it slowly to her lips. He watched mesmerized as she exhaled a smooth cloud into Dawn’s face. The actress sighed and fell asleep.
“Now that the bird’s asleep, we can be together lover. How does that sound?”
Dick nodded wordlessly and pushed Dawn to the side. He went to kiss her but she put a hand up to his lips.
“Later lover, right now it’s sleepy time.”
She removed the cigarette from the holder and brought it back to her lips. Dick lay there helpless as she aimed it at his face. He knew what was about to happen…
“Mr. Grayson, you have a call on line one.”
His secretaries voice coming through the intercom jerked Dick out of his reverie. The interruption had stopped him just short of orgasm, but not before he had something just as important – a memory flash! He remembered what had happened in the Chanteuse’s room. She had gassed him! But why? He hadn’t been robbed. He needed to get to the bottom of this.
“Mr. Grayson, would you like to take this call?”
“Thanks Beth, I’ll take it,” he told her as he picked up the phone. He had a renewed sense of energy and urgency that had been missing for the past few days.
“Dick Grayson,” he said commandingly into the phone.
“Hello Reeshard, remember me?”
Dick nearly dropped the phone when he heard the same sultry, French voice from his daydream. It was Fantasia Serenade!
“Mademoiselle Serenade?” he replied coolly. “How nice to hear from you. What can I do for you?”
“I had thought I might see you again darling. The other night was wonderful.”
“Speaking of the other night, what happened? I woke up in my own bed, but I don’t even remember going home.”
“Oui, you were rather drunk darling. Too much champagne perhaps? Either way, you were still magnificent.”
“Maybe it wasn’t the champagne.”
“What do you mean darling?” she asked beginning to be alarmed.
“I mean that I think you drugged me.”
“Reeshard darling, you sound upset. Let me relax you.”
Before Dick could protest she began to hum into the phone. It took only a few notes before his tension began to his ease. His eyes grew heavy and his expression relaxed visibly. Soon he was breathing slowly and deeply.
“Can you hear me Reeshard?” she murmured softly.
“Mmm,” was the reply.
“Bon. Now darling, I don’t want you to think about the other night. You had an amazing night and that is all that you will remember.”
“Amazing,” he mumbled.
“Précisément. Now, I am having a little soiree this evening at my penthouse apartment and I want you there, oui?”
“Excellent. Now, let’s take a little nap hmmm?”
She resumed her humming and the little aubade quickly put him into a deep trance.
“Sleep well amour,” she whispered when she heard his head drop to the desk with a thunk.She hung up the phone, pondering the near disaster and how he could have remembered the gassing. She would have to be more careful in the future. I will take care of him tonight she decided and waltzed over to her closet. She wanted her outfit to be perfect for tonight. She wanted everything to be perfect.