The bell rang at movie starlet Dawn Robbins’ plush penthouse apartment and Betty Barrett, the studio rep who was tasked with ‘looking after’ the temperamental talent, went to answer it. It was a young woman in a navy blue Fed-Ex uniform with a package for the lovely Miss Robbins. No doubt from one of her many admirers. Betty, a business-like brunette in her early thirties, signed for the small box and carried it inside. She headed towards the starlet’s boudoir where she seemed to spend most of her time lying lazily about; a habit that Ms. Barrett strongly disapproved of.
“Oh Miss Robbins,” she called, letting herself in. “You have an express delivery.”
She waltzed into the bedroom and indeed found the glamorous blonde lounging on the bed and smoking a cigarette from a long golden holder. This was another in a long list of vices that her babysitter Betty chided her about. She had obviously been trying on clothes, because an assortment of gowns was strewn about the floor and the bed, creating quite a mess.
“Really Miss Robbins,” sighed her exasperated aide. “Can’t you try to be a little more neat? It’s like picking up after a puppy dog.”
Dawn ignored her as usual, but was instantly excited by the package she carried, which was wrapped in pretty pink paper. “Oh goodie!” she squealed. “A present!”
She put her holder in a crystal ashtray, jumped up and impolitely grabbed the box from Betty, plopping back down on the bed to open it. She did this by simply tearing into the paper like a child on Christmas morning. Opening the box, she gasped in wonder. She pulled out an exquisitely designed white porcelain box, elaborately decorated with hand-painted pink roses.
“It’s magnificent!” exclaimed the usually reserved Betty. “What’s inside?”
Dawn opened the lid of the delicate piece of art to find a tiny twirling ballerina. A familiar tune began to play as well. “It’s a music box!” she gushed. “It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen!”
“It is quite impressive,” Betty had to agree. “Who is it from?”
There was a small pink card inside the package and the giddy starlet fished it out.
“From your most ardent admirer,” she read. “May it bring you sweet dreams.”
“I thought I knew that song,” declared Betty. “It’s a lullaby. What an odd song for a music box.”
Not as odd as she might think, as this was a gift from that bringer of dreams - the Sandman! The spinning ballerina figurine was in a pose, with one leg in the air and both arms extended over her head, as she twirled on a pointed toe. Both women were watching the toy intently when suddenly a pink gas began to shoot from the ballerina’s outstretched hands. The dazzling dancer spun faster, spraying her gas into the surprised females’ faces.
“Oh!” gasped Betty as she waved her hands as if to ward away the fumes. She was already feeling faint from the perfumed potion.
Dawn Robbins was less fortunate. Her face had been just inches from the bewitching ballerina when the devious device had begun to play it’s sleepy tune. The sweet smelling sleeping gas had sent her instantly to dreamland. She lay with her head resting gently next to the music box continuing to breathe in its malicious mist.
Betty stumbled from the bedroom intent on escape. Instead she ran into a pair of strange men who had silently entered the apartment. The curious duo was dressed in long black nightshirts and stocking hats. Their eyes were blank beneath heavy, half-closed lids and had dark circles beneath them; their faces a ghastly pale white.
Betty stumbled into them and they grabbed her wordlessly, seemingly oblivious to her struggles. As she fought against the mysterious intruders a third gentleman entered the room. Nothing like her assailants, he was a tall, handsome man with distinguished looking silver hair. He wore an expensive black suit, underneath a swirling cape of black velvet. Its satin lining was the same deep impenetrable black.
“What’s this?” he asked sweeping toward the struggling woman. “My ‘dream dancer’ should have put you to bed. Nonetheless, a nap is definitely in your immediate future.”
Sandman threw back his cape and revealed a black velvet pouch, embroidered with silver stars, hanging from his belt. He reached casually into the small sack and tossed a handful of powder into the drowsy dame’s face. She collapsed with a sigh into her attackers’ arms.
“Sleep well my dear,” he told her. And then to his men – “Take this one to the car. I will see to Miss Robbins personally.”
He didn’t bother to wait to see that his instructions were being followed. There was no need to, as his mindless sleep-slaves would do whatever he said. He made his way to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. The gorgeous starlet was lying on her back on champagne-colored satin sheets, dressed in a filmy gold silk robe. The music box continued to spray candy-sweet gas into the room as it played its little lullaby. Sandman hummed along as he approached the bed. He reached for the box and gently closed the lid.
“Finally we meet my pet,” he whispered to the dozing damsel. “I hope you enjoyed your present.” He loosened the belt to her robe. “I’m sure that I will enjoy mine.”
The black-clad gentleman slid the music box into his jacket pocket and easily hefted the buxom blonde. Her robe fell open giving him a few of her spectacular movie-star body. He sighed and shook his head. He would love to have her right here and now, but there wasn’t time. The doorman and concierge he had put to sleep in the lobby would be waking up soon.
“Soon my sweet, soon,” he whispered, and swept from the room with his precious bundle.
Natalia Knight, or rather the woman who used to be Natalia Knight, strolled down the hall of Morpheus’ mansion on her way to the Dream Chamber. Another pet had been taken several days ago and tonight was to be her naming ceremony. Since she was to be a Lady and not simply a slave, it was Lady Midnight’s job to ready her for the indoctrination.
As the pale-skin beauty walked, she thought back to her own abduction and subordination. It had been two years ago, in Brazil at Carnival. She had been a carefree jewel-thief, a creature of the night, enjoying everything that the world’s biggest party had to offer.
Born Natalia Knight, an industrial accident had drained her skin of all pigment. Her sensitivity to the sun had led her to become a night owl, her love of the finer things in life to become a thief. Hence she had become “Nocturna”, mysterious beauty and purloiner extraordinaire.
Together with her beloved brother Anton, she had begun a whirlwind tour of the world’s most fabulous palaces, museums, and mansions. Anyplace there was a party and easy money. This non-stop quest for adventure and riches had brought them to Brazil. To Carnival!
It was there, on a crowded street in Rio, that she had first seen Lord Morpheus and his Princess. She had come across them, a handsome older man and his extremely young and lovely companion. She figured them to be wealthy Europeans, as they were dressed much too nicely to be Americans. He in a white tropical wool suit, she in a daringly low-cut white party dress and wearing enough diamonds to feed a small Brazilian village for a year.
It was not safe to flaunt such riches, Rio could be a dangerous place a night, but they did not seem concerned. Perhaps it was the huge, bald, black man shadowing them. He was in a dark suit despite the heat and wore sunglasses even though it was nighttime. He was definitely a bodyguard, though not the only one.
There was a woman as well - tall, blonde, and attractive in a severe way. She moved with a dangerous grace, her face set in a mask of calm intensity, and watched over the European couple like a mother hen jealously guarding her chicks. This was the one that worried Nocturna. Not that she was too concerned; she had ways of dealing with the bodyguards.
After following them for a few blocks, she had slipped into an alley and raced down a side street. They were following a procession down a main thoroughfare and she had no reason to think that they wouldn’t continue to do so. After getting what she felt was a comfortable distance ahead, the female felon turned back onto the main road and began moving through the crowd of onlookers that lined the sidewalk.
She planned a simple bump and run. With luck the girl wouldn’t realize that her precious necklace was missing until she had already disappeared into the crowd. If not, her trick ring, which dispensed a cloud of sleeping gas, had proved effective in the past. She expected little trouble from the locals.
There! She spotted her targets walking along in a crowd of dancers, nearly naked except for enormous feathered headdresses and little bikinis. The girl and her older escort both seemed engrossed in watching the revelers around them, who were throwing handfuls of glitter into the spectators.
Nocturna stepped off the curb and into the oncoming stream of bodies. She stopped and scanned the crowd as if searching for someone, her marks always in her peripheral vision. When the girl drew near she allowed her eyes to widen, as if recognizing someone behind the girl. She waved and moved in that direction, hoping that her ruse would confuse the bodyguards. Her path would lead her right into the wealthy young lady.
She was now just steps away, still looking past the girl at her imaginary friend in the distance. The practiced thief prepared for the bump, readying her hands to make a quick, unnoticed grab for the necklace. At the last instant, one of the feather-dancers stepped into her way. Time seemed to slow as she realized that both of the wealthy couple were looking right at her, knowing smiles on their faces. The dancer brought one of her hands up to her lips, palm up, and blew a cloud of powder into the would-be thief’s face.
Nocturna immediately realized that something was wrong. A dizziness swept over her, making her feel drunk. The attractive couple, who she had been so close to robbing, each took one of her arms. They walked along, with them supporting her body, which had seemed to turn to jelly. She wanted to scream, but her mouth simply would not cooperate.
They were turning off of the main street now, down a deserted alleyway. Faces spun in and out of her vision, distorted and grotesque to her blurry eyes. Halfway down the alley they stopped at a door. It opened immediately, as if somebody had been watching at the peephole.
She was herded into a room that was quite different than what she would have expected. Its opulence was more befitting a five-star hotel than a Rio de Janeiro slum. The brunette beauty was dragged over to the wall. The handsome gentleman held her arms above her head while the young woman enclosed shackles around her wrists. She was quite helpless to stop them.
“So this is the famous Nocturna,” remarked the man, stepping back. He pulled a cigar from his suit pocket and the Amazonian blonde, who had followed them inside, stepped forward and produced a light for him.
The silver-haired gentleman nodded his thanks and stood with the cigar in his mouth, regarding the chained woman pensively.
“I must be honest,” he told her, “I thought this would be more of a challenge. You have a reputation as a formidable woman.”
He exhaled cigar smoke into her face. It smelled sweet and cloying, like a woman wearing too much perfume. Nocturna felt her eyes growing heavy. She wanted nothing more than to go to sleep for a long, long time.
“Not yet pet,” Morpheus told her, running his thumb over her lips. “You’ll be getting a nice long nap very soon, but first you will pleasure me.”
She heard the sound of his zipper being lowered and felt his strong hand on her neck. Her chains were long so he had no problem forcing her head down to his waist. He took her chin in one hand and slid a finger from his other hand into her mouth. She immediately began to suckle it.
“Excellent,” he murmured around his cigar. “Now try this.”
He eased her mouth onto his hard cock. It was enormous, and she made some choking noises as she tried to take it in her mouth. He blew some more smoke into her face, her jaw relaxing visibly. She was soon deep-throating him with a vigor to make a whore blush.
Princess Beauty, Morpeus’ perfect paramour, watched the proceedings intently. She was not jealous watching her man fuck another woman, she herself had her own ‘pretties’, but was distrustful of the famous criminal. She would prefer it if the woman were asleep right now.
She removed a silver cigarette case and a short black holder from her purse. She fitted a long white cigarette into the holder and accepted a light from Lady Winter, Morpheus’ so-called ‘White Wolf’. Toying with the holder with her tongue, she approached the woman who was so noisily fellating her lover.
She was a very beautiful lady, with thick, dark wavy hair that fell down past her shoulders. Her pigment-less skin was so pale that it almost seemed translucent, glowing softly in the dim light of their lair. Her usually bright eyes that glowed like black opals were dim now – glassy.
“You were quite easy to catch,” commented the Princess in agreement with her lover. “Would you like to know how we knew where to find you? Oh Adriana, Olivia, you can come out now.”
Nocturna stopped sucking and looked up as two other women entered the room. Even in her drug filled daze the recognition was instant, the shock showing on her face.
One of the newcomers was young and beautiful, with long dark hair and bronzed cocoa-colored skin. Her outfit, which basically consisted of bra, panties, garter-belt, and stockings, all in black, showed a healthy amount of that smooth, unblemished skin. The sultry brunette moved with a lithe, feminine grace, not surprising given her status as Brazil’s top fashion model and, just as impressive if less well known, as the country’s most expensive call-girl.
Nocturna had met the twenty year-old model at a party recently that she had attended with her brother Anton. He had been instantly smitten with the pouty sex-pot and had been lavishing gifts on her for the last several weeks. And now she appears at the site of her abduction, certainly more than mere coincidence.
The other woman, Olivia, was a bit older but no less beautiful, with the same dark hair and bronze skin. Her eyes were large and brown, her mouth full and sensual with a slight gap in her front teeth. She had an almost animal-like quality, a sexuality that had no doubt helped her in becoming one of the most famous whores in the history of Brazil.
Unlike her younger protégé who dabbled in modeling and acting, Olivia preferred to spend as much time on her back as possible. Or on her knees, on all fours, any position really as long as she was getting fucked. Olivia was a whore and was damned proud of the fact.
“Come here my lovelies,” instructed Morpheus, with a beckoning gesture. “Venga mi dulces.”
The maleficent model went to him and he grabbed her playfully around the waist. The bound jewel-thief looked on dumbly as he pawed the buxom babe in front of her. The dark-skinned Brazilian took the cigar from him and enjoyed a nice drag, exhaling in Nocturna’s direction.
“Anton…,” she managed to mumble.
“Ah yes, your brother,” replied Morpheus. “He is… resting.”
“Muy soñoliento,” added Adriana giggling.
“Yes, he is quite sleepy,” agreed the gentleman.
“Whore!” spat Natalia with a snarl, showing some renewed energy.
“Si, but a whore mucho caro,” taunted the Brazilian. A very expensive whore indeed. She exhaled a cloud of cigar smoke into the captive’s face and the woman grew quiet once more, the sleepy smoke muting her virulent rage.
“Your brother has not been harmed, yet,” Sandman told her, “And won’t be if you do as you are told.”
“Please don’t hurt him,” she begged weakly. “I’ll do anything.”
“Hmm, anything? I like the sound of that. Natasha, unchain her and bring her to the bed,” he ordered.
There was a huge round bed in one corner, decked out in fantastic looking burgundy satin sheets. Nocturna was dragged over and thrown onto the bed by the tall blonde. Morpheus and the other women then gathered around.
“I promised Adriana a present for bringing you to me,” he told the woman on the bed. He walked over and picked up an incredibly soft fur coat that was slung across a chair. “I was just going to give her this chinchilla and this necklace.”
He produced a spectacular pearl and diamond choker from the pocket of the fur, which he proceeded to fasten around the Latina’s neck. He wrapped her up in the magnificent coat as well.
“However,” he continued, “since she did such a laudable job seducing your half-wit brother, I think she deserves a little something extra. Don’t you? Adriana, get on the bed.”
The Hispanic hussy did as she was told, making herself comfortable next to her new enemy.
“Lovely,” commented Morpheus. “Now here’s what we’ll do. You are going to pleasure young Adriana. You will do whatever she wishes. If she is satisfied with your efforts, your brother will be spared and you will be given a place of honor in my Royal Court. Should you displease her, your brother will die and you will live out your days in a Thailand brothel cleaning cum-stains from the sheets with your mouth. Do I make myself clear?”
She nodded weakly.
“Good you may begin.”
The defeated dame turned to the fur-clad femme on the bed next to her and began to lightly kiss her leg. The triumphant model leaned back against a mound of velvet and satin pillows and spread her legs. She took an indulgent drag on the cigar that she still held and exhaled towards the ceiling.
“Fuck me with your tongue,” she demanded brusquely.
Nocturna knew that she had no choice but to comply, so she did. Closing her eyes she pretended the insolent slut that she was pleasuring was someone else. This was not the first time she had been with a woman and she began to daydream about her first female lover, her college roommate. Her anger had cooled and the smell of Adriana’s cigar was beginning to make her feel warm and sleepy again. The smell of her wet pussy was making her absolutely wild. Soon she was eating out the Brazilian whore and enjoying it immensely.
Sandman watched as the model melted into the satin sheets. The cocoa-skinned beauty was writhing madly under Nocturna’s oral caresses. His cock was stiff once more and he pulled Olivia close, letting her feel his hardness. She was sheathed in a black leather dress and matching gloves. The corset-style garment encircled her waist but stopped shy of covering her large breasts. It was short enough that anyone could clearly see that she wasn’t wearing panties.
The woman who was maybe the best lay in Brazil sighed in pleasure and reached behind her. Without taking her eyes off of the two fucking femmes she began to treat her new Master to a hand-job with her talented fingers. Not for the first time he thought, ‘Now this is the life’. His next thought was ‘I’m going to cum’ and he then did so, exploding all over the back of the sluts leather dress. The teen temptress smiled slyly around her holder and gave Sandman a wink. She loved it when he came on other women.
Adriana was moaning loudly now and clutching at the sheets wildly as she arched her back. She soon orgasmed as well, and noisily at that, before collapsing in exhaustion on the bed.
“So Adriana, are we satisfied?” Sandman asked her climbing onto the bed.
The call-girl nodded dumbly and lay breathing heavily.
“Well then it looks like your brother shall live,” he told the also panting Nocturna. “But your work isn’t finished.” He knelt over her, stuffing his still semi-erect dick into her mouth. “And as for you...” He took the cigar from Adriana and held it in front of her face. It began to hiss and a steady stream of blue smoke surrounded her head. The high-class whore drifted to sleep.
Lady Winter had surreptitiously soaked a cloth in chloroform and approached the other slut from behind. She clamped the wet rag over Olivia’s face and pulled her backwards. The prostitute gasped in surprise and tried to throw her attacker off, but the White Wolf had her in an iron grip. She clawed frantically at the blonde’s hands for a few moments before her movements began to slow. Soon she hung limp like a wet dishrag. The Russian bodyguard let her listless body drop to the floor.
Sandman turned back to Nocturna who was sleepily sucking his dick. “I think that you will prove to be very useful to me,” he declared. “Very useful indeed.”
“I am not yet satisfied with our new friend my Lord,” Beauty informed him, still eyeing the glamorous thief distrustfully. “She still needs to be taught her place.”
“What did you have in mind my dear?” he asked her deferentially.
“Hmmm.” She stood with the holder poised just outside of her ruby-red lips, thoughtfully tapping her chin with a finger. Her eyes narrowed and her smiled turned mischievously evil.
“Natasha, bring me ‘The Tamer’,” the Princess instructed brusquely.
The tall blonde’s eyes widened, but she hastened to obey. Usually ‘The Tamer’ was only used to punish extremely bad behavior. It was never used on such a new acquisition.
Morpheus thought it strange as well. He raised an eyebrow at his young lover, but said nothing. He would never question the Princess in public.
The Russian femme returned carrying a ridiculously large black rubber dildo. The immense phallus was fully 12 inches long and of considerable girth. An overweight, Parisian whore would have trouble taking that never mind the willowy young jewel thief.
The Princess strapped herself into the fake cock and stroked it lovingly. Natasha had been sure to oil it well, so that it wouldn’t rip their young captive apart. Even so she braced herself for the screams. Morpheus too, decided that caution was in order, and took his dick from the thief’s mouth. Accidents did happen.
Beauty eased just the tip of the phallus into Nocturna’s tight pussy. Even this little bit of penetration was enough to make the chained woman grunt.
“There are few things that you need to learn ‘pretty’,” the ravishing royal whispered to her captive. She slid the dildo in a little more. “You are mine now. I own you. Your old life is over.” She pulled out so just the tip was once again barely brushing her lips. “Now be a good pretty and scream for me.” She rammed the full-length of the dildo home with a brutal thrust. Nocturna screamed.
Lady Midnight shuddered and shook her head to clear it of the memories. She had survived that long night, had in fact begun to enjoy it after a fashion. Even now, two years later, the memories of that night were causing a familiar dampness between her legs. Some part of her realized that those feelings weren’t real, that they had been created in her mind by Sandman. But truth be told she didn’t really care. Reaching into her purse she pulled out a small perfume aerosol and lightly spritzed her wrists and neck, reveling in the luxurious scent.
As always, the ritual that she had been trained to observe achieved the desired results. Any doubts flew from her mind, flooded by her growing arousal and love for her master. She had been deeply hypnotized to associate the smell of the perfume with pleasure and devotion to Morpheus. A thought entered her mind. “I am his slave”, she told herself and smiled.
She turned to the side to see her own slave, Adrianna, waiting patiently next to her Mistress. Sandman had given the Brazilian model, as well as the whore Olivia, to her as gifts on her naming day. It was that day that she had given up her old life as Natalia Knight, and as Nocturna for that matter, and had become Lady Midnight of Lord Morpheus’ Royal Court.
She smiled at Adrianna who was still wearing the expensive diamond and pearl choker that she had received for delivering her to Morpheus. Lady Midnight saw it as a symbol of how cheaply her betrayal had been bought. She harbored no ill will towards the girl; after all she was only a slut. Her reminisces had given her an idea.
“Perhaps you would like to wear the chinchilla tonight, hmm?” she asked casually as she rubbed her slave’s cheek. “Maybe a nice cigar?”
Adrianna didn’t answer. But the flush in her cheeks as she stared meekly at the floor said volumes. It wouldn’t be the first time that they had relived that night. The Brazilian tart in chinchilla fur, smoking a cigar while her Mistress ate her pussy. It was one of Lady Midnight’s favorite games, reserved for special occasions.
The pale-skinned thief sighed and turned her attention back to the Dream Chamber. The young heiress, Madison Sinclair, was lying on a satin-draped bed surrounded by the Venutian crystals that gave Lord Morpheus the power to see into people’s dreams. That power was muted here of course, the purity of the crystals not nearly as strong as in the permanent Dream Chamber in Castle Black. There Sandman could reach any mind inside the Castle, no matter where he was. Here he had to be actually inside the Chamber, in the presence of his victim, to exercise his telepathic abilities.
The Dream Therapy as Sandman called it, the process by which he manipulated women’s minds, was not unpleasant. In fact, he went out of his way to make it as pleasurable as possible. Mainly this was because the women who were subjected to it were to become Ladies in his Royal Court. A simpler, somewhat harsher treatment was used for slaves and the worst was reserved for men.
Sandman had a general dislike and distrust of most other males. As a result his methods of enslaving men was much less gentle than those for women. The slaves were simply kept docile by a mixture of drugs and physical abuse. After a week or so in Castle Black, they had completely forgotten their former lives and existed only to serve the Master and his many Mistresses.
The members of the Nod Squad, henchmen to be used during criminal capers, were given more extensive treatment. They were subjected to weeks of alternating sleep-deprivation and periods where they were kept completely comatose. The result was an obedient, perpetually half-asleep goon who would follow his orders mindlessly. They were easily recognized in the Castle by the pale, chalky pallor of their skin and the dark bags under their glassy eyes.
None of this could compare with the horrors necessary to endure in order to become one of Lord Morpheus’ personal bodyguards. He fully appreciated the deadly efficiency of Lady Winter and her pack of she-wolves, but occasionally the mere presence of a large man was enough to deter trouble. So he had decided to surround himself with a formidable cadre of trustworthy individuals. However, to be deemed trustworthy by Morpheus one would have to go through the Dream Therapy. This could be a dicey proposition.
The Venutian crystals reacted… differently when used on a man as opposed to a woman. Where they gently unlocked the door to a female’s mind, coaxing it to open and welcome Morpheus’ presence, on a male it was more like smashing down that doorway with a battering ram. The results were not usually good. In fact only two men had proven strong enough to withstand the invasion and be sculpted into tools for Sandman’s nefarious purposes. The rest, and there were more than a few, had gone quite insane.
The first man who had made it through the process was a Mr. Dark, the large black man who had been with Morpheus in Brazil the day of Nocturna’s abduction. The second was her brother Anton.
True to his word, Morpheus had spared Anton’s life. But when she saw the alternative she almost wished he hadn’t. She had been present at several of the ‘sessions’ during which her brother’s mind had been ripped open and redesigned for Sandman’s purposes. Mr. Knight, as he was now referred to, bore no resemblance to her beloved brother. He was cruel and single-minded of purpose. Obey the Master; nothing else mattered.
Putting the unpleasant thoughts out of her mind, she approached the sleeping socialite. The girl’s eyes opened immediately when Lady Midnight touched her arm.
“He is ready for you,” she told the girl.
“The Master? The man from my dreams?” she asked timidly.
“Of course silly goose, who else. Now come, they are waiting for you in the Throne Room.”
The girl rose, pulling a satin sheet with her to cover her nakedness.
“No, you must be as a newborn when you approach him,” the older woman instructed. “Your new life is now to begin.”
Maddie nodded hesitantly and let the sheet drop. She had a very nice body with firm, pert breast. Her pink nipples stood erect in the cool air. Lady Midnight smiled and led the way out of the room. The click of her stiletto heels echoed down the hall. The pitter-pat of Madison’s bare feet as she struggled to keep up were barely audible in comparison.
They stopped just outside a pair of double doors. Two male slaves bowed and opened them. Lady Midnight glanced at the pretty brunette, a nervous smile on her expectant face. She envied the girl, whose life was about to undergo a wonderful change.
“You must go from here alone little one,” she said softly. “Just know that you go in here a girl, but you will leave a Lady.”
Madison nodded and raised her chin, trying to be brave. The doors closed solidly behind her. Lady Midnight turned and looked around for Adrianna, but her slave was nowhere to be seen. She must already be making preparations for tonight’s activities. The jewel-thief smiled and headed back to her chambers. It was looking to be a wonderful evening for her as well.
Madison walked down the aisle on the cold marble floor, trying to appear calm and confident. She was anything but. Her cool façade almost crumbled completely when she saw Lord Morpheus lounging on his throne atop the raised dais. On his left on her own throne sat Princess Beauty, resplendent in night-black satin.
Two groups of women stood at the foot of the Dais on either side of the Royal Couple. On the lord’s right were the High Ladies dressed in black robes trimmed with white fur, and on the Princess’ left were her ladies in waiting. They wore simpler garments of white silk, embroidered with black. All of the women wore masks over their faces; the high ladies elaborate full-face masquerade disguises, the younger ladies more simple but just as concealing coverings, and the Princess a fanciful, black-lace butterfly mask that left her nose and mouth un-obscured.
Morpheus alone was unmasked, his stern, handsome face open to Madison’s view. It was a face she had seen often in her dreams recently.
“Who comes before this Court?” he asked grandly, in a booming voice that echoed through the chamber.
“Madison Sinclair,” the socialite answered in a voice that was more squeaky than sexy despite her best effort to make it so.
“An appropriate name for a party-going society slut, but hardly fit for a Lady don’t you think?”
The other Ladies in attendance laughed at his mock, while Maddie turned red from embarrassment.
“Yes milord,” she replied because she didn’t know what else to say.
“I’ll think on that for a moment while the High Ladies inspect you. Ladies, if you would.”
The three masked women walked over and surrounded the trembling girl. They looked her up and down, taking the time to prod and fondle her in intimate places. This continued for several moments until Morpheus spoke.
“What say you Duchess?” he asked formally.
The Englishwoman stepped in front of the girl and gently brushed her hair away from her face. She cupped her chin in her hand and eyed her critically from behind her mask.
“Her hair is healthy and clean my Lord,” she declared. “Her skin is fair and her features attractive.” She stepped away.
The German circled behind the girl running a hand over her torso. She then cupped her breasts and gently massaged her nipples.
“Her body is fit my Lord, and her breasts are firm.” She moved away as well.
“And you Countess?”
Finally the French femme came forward and ran a hand along the curve of Maddie’s buttocks. She then gently felt her labia before inserting a finger into the girl’s pussy. It was all Madison could do to not to cry out in pleasure.
“She has a fine ass my Lord. Her pussy is pretty and pink and tre`s mouille`.” Her hand lingered between the heiress’ legs a little longer. “Mmm very, very wet.”
“Princess, your thoughts,” Morpheus asked his ravishing girl-bride.
“She is acceptable,” the teen temptress allowed grudgingly.
“Excellent. However, my dear physical beauty is only one of the requirements of a Lady in this Court. As you have no doubt seen, even the slaves here could be supermodels. In fact some of them were. You must show me that you are worthy.”
Lady Midnight had explained to Madison what would be expected of her in the ceremony, so she was not surprised. She walked slowly to the dais and dropped to her knees in front of Morpheus.
“May I pleasure you Master?” she asked meekly.
The Dream Lord smiled and opened his black velvet cloak. He was naked underneath. Maddie spit inelegantly into her hand and began to pump him to hardness. She licked him from balls to tip, not the least bit tentatively, before sliding her lips over his shaft. Her aggressiveness surprised him, the seemingly sophisticated socialite sucking dick like a common whore, but he was not displeased.
He let her continue for a bit, relishing the rich bitch blowjob, before the Princess interrupted.
“That’s fine dear, but how do you lick pussy?”
Morpheus nodded at her and she crawled over to put her head between Beauty’s legs. Her question was quickly answered as the would-be Lady proved just as adept at pleasuring a woman as she was a man. The Princess actually found herself sighing in delight and then gasped when Madison swirled her tongue over her clit.
“I can see that you will not disappoint us in bed either,” Morpheus remarked dryly. “But once again we have many slaves to provide us pleasure. What other service can you provide the Court?”
Madison extricated herself from between the Princess’ thighs; no easy task as her Highness had her legs wrapped rapturously around Maddie’s neck, and wiped the drool from her chin.
“I am heiress to the Fabulous Face Make-up empire milord,” she began. “My father is dead, so upon my grandmother’s passing I will receive everything. I’m sure you could find use for the company in your plans.”
Sandman nodded thoughtfully as if he hadn’t considered this, but in reality he had planned it all along. One of the biggest Make-up companies in the world would indeed be helpful in his sleepy schemes. Whether using the cosmetics to deliver a knockout or instead using them to drug the customers who bought the products, he would definitely find ways to profit from Madison’s corporation.
“Perhaps that would be useful to me,” he agreed. “Is there anything else?”
“I’m very active in Gotham’s social scene milord. I have many friends. Rich friends; beautiful friends. I could bring them to you.”
“You will bring them to me,” he told her. “You will deliver them unwittingly into the arms of Morpheus and I will wrap them in a sleepy embrace. Yes, you will be a busy girl indeed.”
Morpheus stood and picked up his ebony cane from beside the throne.
“Is there anyone present who does not believe that this girl does not belong as a member of this Court?”
There were no dissenters.
“Then I hereby declare that Miss Madison Sinclair is now a Lady of the Court of Castle Black, with the full duties and privileges thereof.” He brought the cane down lightly on either shoulder and picked up a white cloak trimmed in black mink. “I dub thee… Lady Blush,” he declared and draped the cloak over her shoulders.
The women present applauded, the High Ladies demurely and the younger girl’s with more enthusiasm. When the hubbub of appreciation died down he addressed the gathered assembly once more.
“Please do your best to make young Lady Blush welcome,” he told them. “And now, if you would, I would like to be alone with my newest subject.”
The women made their courtesies to the Royal couple and took their leave. The Princess too, embraced her lover before making her way out of the chamber.
“You are a beautiful girl,” he told her when they were alone.
“Thank you milord.”
“I think you look even better asleep.” He pointed his cane and while gas shot from the tip. The petite pretty fell limply into his arms; her eyes were open but just barely. “Now let us finish what you started earlier,” he suggested as he carried the prone beauty over to a bed by the wall. His cock was already hard in anticipation. He dropped the drowsy damsel onto the ebony satin sheets and began to make love to his Lady Blush. He would not finish for a long, long time.
Lady Midnight paused outside the door to her private chambers and smiled. The entire wing of the mansion was unusually quiet this evening. No doubt Adrianna had let the servants know that her Mistress would not wish to be disturbed. A shiver ran up her spine and she looked around. The hallway was empty. She supposed the feeling was just nervous anticipation.
The pale-skinned beauty shook her head and laughed at herself for acting so childish. She reached out and pushed open the door. It was dim inside, the room lit only by the soft glow of candles. She looked around, but the chamber appeared to be unoccupied. She thought that she heard a sound coming from the bedroom so she moved softly to the inner door. The strange sense of foreboding clung to her and she opened this door somewhat more apprehensively.
Her bedchamber, like the sitting room, was minimally illuminated. But it was enough to see what she was expecting, more accurately hoping, to see. Lying on her side on Lady Midnight’s burgundy satin-sheeted bed, wrapped in a sumptuously soft chinchilla fur coat which hung open to reveal a sinfully alluring body, was Adrianna.
The normally submissive slave reclined leisurely, her elbow propped against the bed and her head resting in the palm of one burgundy satin-gloved hand. The other hand slid languorously along smooth silk-stockinged legs. The ex-model, otherwise naked, was also bedecked in a fortune in diamonds and rubies which hung from her neck, wrists, and ears. It was not the girl’s jewelry, Lady Midnight noticed. Not the usual expensive choker that she wore. She wondered briefly where she had come by such finery, but figured that she must have ‘borrowed’ it from one of the other ladies of the house.
The jewel-thief’s musings were cut short as Adrianna slid gracefully to her feet. She was clad in black-patent ‘fuck-me’ pumps with five-inch heels. They gave the curvy Brazilian babe, who was already taller than her more petite Mistress, an added air of command. They clacked loudly on the marble floor as Adrianna moved over to a table against the wall.
“You are late Natalia,” she commented not unkindly, with her back to Lady Midnight.
“Yes, I apologize… Mistress,” she stammered, belatedly remembering the game.
Adrianna turned and smiled. She was holding a large, unlit cigar in one hand. She stood and silently regarded the woman before her. Finally she turned back to the table and began preparing the cigar for smoking.
“I’m sure you think that you are sorry Natalia,” she said as she snipped off the end with a cigar cutter. “But how can I trust the word of a slave who doesn’t even remember to kneel in the presence of her Mistress?”
Lady Midnight stood there, shocked senseless for a moment, before dropping quickly to her knees. Adrianna picked up a butane lighter and slowly brought the cigar to life with deep puffs as she rolled it slowly between her lips. Nocturna was getting very aroused watching her. It was already the best role-playing session that they’d had yet. Adrianna was being convincingly commanding and she couldn’t wait to see what else was in store.
“What am I going to do with you Natalia?” the fur-coated femme asked shaking her head. She put the cigar in her mouth and sucked on it contemplatively.
“Mistress?” Lady Midnight replied questioningly, not knowing what answer the Brazilian was looking for.
“I try to be a good Mistress and treat you kindly, but you continue to be willful and disobedient.”
“I’m sorry Mistress, it won’t happen again,” the kneeling woman insisted hastily.
“It’s alright Natalia; it’s not your fault. You are a just a silly little whore who knows no better. It is my failing as your Mistress that you aren’t well-trained. I will have to remedy that. Olivia?”
Lady Midnight hadn’t noticed her other slave lurking in the shadows behind her and cried out when the Brazilian whore grabbed her from behind. The thief felt her leather-clad hands as she quickly forced her onto her stomach and began binding her hands behind her back with silken cords. Her attempts to cry out were cut short by a black silk gag being forced into her mouth. It was over in moments; the Lady rolling helplessly on the floor while her two slaves watched smugly.
“Bring her here,” Adrianna ordered and Olivia dragged her roughly to her feet.
“Don’t worry slut, nobody is going to hurt you,” she soothed, gently brushing her captive’s hair away from her face. Her free hand wandered down between the bound woman’s legs as she placed the cigar teasingly between her lips and took a deep drag.
Lady Midnight shuddered as Adrianna’s satiny hand caressed her pussy and felt the warm smoke bathe her face as she exhaled. The fumes smelled familiarly sweet and alarm flooded into her brain as she realized that it was the Sandman’s sleepy smoke. Slaves were strictly forbidden access to such dangerous items and they had always used regular cigars in their games before.
Her concern was short-lived however, rapidly replaced by the calming fog that was an inevitable result of the anesthetic smoke. Adrianna carefully blew another cloud into her Mistress’ slackening face, making certain that her eyes were glassy before motioning to Olivia to remove the woman’s gag.
She strode confidently over to the bed and made herself comfortable while her leather-clad compatriot stripped their captive out of her black dress before leading her over to the bed. Lady Midnight was thrown down onto the burgundy satin sheets, her head coming to rest between Adrianna’s thighs. She breathed deeply and smelled nothing but opiate-laced cigar smoke mingling erotically with the scent of the cocoa-skinned femme’s obvious arousal.
“Fuck me with your tongue,” Adrianna ordered, echoing the command she had given Nocturna many months ago in Rio. And as then she had no choice but to obey.
“I must say you look very comfortable in your role as a slut slave,” remarked a haughty voice from the other side of the room. “That’s good because it is a role that you will get to play quite often from now on.”
Lady Midnight looked up sleepily to see the Duchess striding towards the bed. The Englishwoman had been hiding in the shadows watching everything and now, with The Next suitably helpless, she had come out to claim her prize.
“You!” the bound woman gasped, struggling to roll off of the bed and gain her feet.
Even in her drug-induced daze, the shock of seeing her enemy approach was enough to banish a good deal of lethargy. Unfortunately, even with the adrenaline coursing through her system, she was still tied up and completely defenseless against the trio of femme fatales. Adrianna and Olivia each grabbed in arm and held her as their new Mistress looked on from beneath one of her trademark fishnet veils.
“Surprised to see me darling?” the Duchess mocked as she watched her prey squirm.
“It can’t be!” Lady Midnight insisted. “You’re supposed to be at the ceremony!”
“Ah yes, I forgot that you’ve never attended a Naming since the changes were made. We all wear masks now; all except for Morpheus at least. It is a small matter to have somebody mimic my voice, as it gets muffled by the mask anyway. I usually enjoy attending the ritual but when Adrianna told me about your little fantasy game, well I decided that it was too good an opportunity to pass up. And let me say darling, it was quite erotic.”
“You won’t get away with this. I’ll… I’ll scream.”
“Yes darling you will scream,” Lady Fogg agreed in a voice that would freeze boiling lava. “But it will do you no good. Your whores, or rather my whores I should say, ensured that we wouldn’t be disturbed. It took surprisingly little to get them to betray you by the way; they were really quite eager.”
Lady Midnight cursed and attempted to lunge at her veiled tormentor but was held easily by her two-faced slaves. The Duchess smiled maliciously and motioned to Adrianna. The tempting turncoat handed the evil Englishwoman the sleepy cigar.
“I would so like to continue this little chat, but I have other pressing matters to attend to,” she purred, holding the cigar aloft. “But we’ll have plenty of time to talk later. When you are my slave.”
The Duchess squeezed the cigar gently in the appropriate place, but instead of the customary cloud of knock-out gas, a thick white fog began to billow from the tip. Adrianna and Olivia covered their faces but, with her arms bound, Lady Midnight was helpless against the fumes. Her face disappeared in the thickening mist and soon the sounds of her futile struggle ceased as well.
When the fog finally cleared the pale-skinned prisoner sat as if frozen to the bed, paralyzed by the Duchess’ sinister mind-fogging gas. A surge of desire shot through the elegant Englishwoman at seeing one of her most hated rivals so thoroughly at her mercy. Her thin smile turned to a merrily evil grin.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she declared to the Brazilian babes. “I think I may have some free time after all. Show me the rest of your little game.”
The two whores grinned at each other and pushed their former boss backwards onto the satin sheets. The Duchess settled into a chair to watch. She would have been quite surprised to know that she was being watched as well, but it was true.
The Princess hurried back to her chambers as soon as her part in the ritual was over. Camilla, dutiful slave to Beauty that she now was, had informed her that the Duchess had not been present at the ceremony. The woman in Lady Fogg’s mask had indeed been an impostor. She had considered unmasking the woman on the spot and publicly attacking the Duchess’ loyalty. But the Englishwoman was clever; she no-doubt had some excuse for her absence ready.
Still she was obviously up to some mischief and Beauty intended to find out what. Closing her door behind her she hurried over to her dressing table and sat down. She picked up her gilded hand-mirror, a prized possession that had belonged to Marie Antoinette. The antique looking-glass also had several surprises built in.
The Princess flipped a hidden switch on the mirror and her own reflection slowly faded away. It was soon replaced by an image of another room in the mansion. A curvaceous brunette was lying on a luxurious bed draped in slick satin sheets. Beauty watched as Lady Midnight entered the room. She saw the fur-clad femme rise slowly from the bed and retrieve the cigar. She observed impassively as the other whore, Olivia, wrestled the woman to the ground and bound her hands with a black silk stocking before silencing her with a cleave gag using its twin.
The action grew slightly more heated now and Beauty began to become aroused as she watched. Adrianna had drugged her Mistress; obviously the cigar was filled with sleep smoke. They moved to the bed and a dazed Lady Midnight began to lick her duplicitous slave’s pussy. The Princess’ hand moved down between her own legs as she voyeuristically watched the women on the mirror. It was a very erotic scene and Beauty had become totally engrossed.
She had almost forgotten why she was spying until the veiled woman stepped out of the shadows. Even in the dim light, Beauty knew who it was. She also knew why she was there. Lady Midnight was one of the few Ladies still under the Princess’ control and now it appeared that she would lose her as well.
It was an unenviable situation, but one that couldn’t certainly be worse. Her forethought in having Lady Midnight set up the closed circuit camera system that only she had access to was proving to be a wise decision indeed. And they were the only two people who even knew that it existed. The technicians who had installed it had been paid handsomely; and then they had been killed.
It had been a necessary precaution and one that she was glad of now. She had no doubt that the Duchess was prying into the inner workings of the Mansion, eager to know its secrets. She hoped that Lady Midnight’s training in protecting her mind would be sufficient. On the small screen the Duchess could be seen lecturing her captive. She took the cigar from Adrianna and a thick fog began to fill the room. The Princess watched intently, excited to be seeing her nemesis’ secret weapon in action.
Presently the smoke cleared and Beauty could see that the thief had been deeply hypnotized. She began to worry that she had underestimated the former London street whore who had risen so high in Morpheus’ Court. Perhaps Lady Midnight would be vulnerable to the devious drugs after all. Her musings were cut short by a soft, deferential knock on the door.
“Come,” she ordered simply as she turned the viewing screen off. When her handmaiden, Lady Gwendolyn entered she saw only her Mistress staring at her flawless complexion in the mirror.
“You requested me Milady?” Gwen asked, dropping a respectful curtsy.
“Yes, you may brush my hair,” Beauty stated imperiously.
Her young-looking blonde helper complied wordlessly, picking up the hairbrush from the dressing table and beginning to brush out her Mistress’ shiny raven locks. She had barely finished half of the customary five hundred strokes when Beauty rose suddenly.
“I’m tired,” she declared, slipping out of her satin robe. “You will share my bed tonight.”
“Of course Milady,” Gwen agreed. She removed her own clothes under Beauty’s appreciative eye and slipped into the luxurious four-poster, canopied ‘Princess’ bed.
The satin sheets were cool on her naked skin. Beauty slid in next to her and snuggled close. The Princess’ practiced hands began to fondle her pert tits.
“What do you think of the new girl?” Beauty asked as she slowly rolled the blonde’s pink nipples between her fingers.
“She is very beautiful Mistress,” Gwen replied truthfully. She sighed as her nipples hardened into tight bulbs under her Lady’s caress.
“I know that she is beautiful; as Morpheus said, even the slaves here are beautiful. What else?”
The girl considered a moment before answering.
“She is rather more… elegant than I would have expected from an American,” she said finally. “Even naked there was a certain dignity about her.”
“Yes,” the Princess agreed. “I thought so as well. There is something special about her; innocent yet sensual.”
“It seemed that you enjoyed her tongue in your pussy as well Milady,” Gwen added almost too casually.
“She is skilled in pleasuring a woman; and a man as well if my Lord’s reaction is any indication. Don’t pout Gwendolyn,” she continued, feeling the girl stiffen. “You know that you are still my favorite.”
“Good. Now, I feel just awful about upsetting you,” her hand reached between Gwen’s legs. “How will I ever make it up to you? I know! Tomorrow we will take Lady Annabelle for a stroll; I think there is a caped crusader in this town who could use a kiss.”
“A kiss from Lady Annabelle!” the child-like blonde gasped excitedly. “Oh, who will it be?!”
The Princess paused for a moment to let the suspense build.
“Nightwing,” she whispered with a growing smile.
Dick was awoken by his secretary at the end of the day. He had slept away most of the morning as well as the entire afternoon. To make matters worse he had also discovered that he had cum in his pants while sleeping; he must have had quite a dream! Nonetheless, he had to ‘accidentally’ spill coffee on himself to hide the real accident from Beth.
Now, freshly showered and dressed in his best tuxedo, the young millionaire executive was riding the elevator up to Fantasia Serenade’s penthouse apartment. He was very late and was praying that she wouldn’t be too mad at him; for some reason that idea upset him very much.
The same sexy blonde, in the same sexy French maid’s uniform greeted him as the elevator doors opened.
“Bonjour Monsieur Grayson,” she said politely. “Mademoiselle Serenade is expecting you; if you would follow me?”
She led the way through the crowded apartment. The party appeared to be in full swing as groups of well-dressed men and woman (mainly women), stood drinking and chatting. Most of the females, all of whom it seemed could have been models, were smoking and a Dick could hardly keep his eyes in his head.
The blonde led him up a flight of stairs and down a long, empty hallway. The sounds of the party faded as they walked.
“This way please,” the maid murmured as Dick hesitated. “The Mistress wanted to be alone with you.”
She resumed walking and he couldn’t help but follow, though for some reason he felt uneasy. They came to the end of the hall and the blonde pushed open the door without knocking and went inside. Dick trailed her warily. But instead of the Chanteuse, he found two women on a bed of scarlet satin; a redhead in black satin gloves and a brunette in red satin gloves. Neither of the two beautiful femmes wore anything else and they were wrapped in a very erotic embrace, their tongues buried in each other’s pussies. He could do nothing but stand and stare.
“They are lovely, oui?” asked a familiar feminine voice from behind him.
Startled, Dick whirled around to see Fantasia standing in the doorway. She was clad in a jaw-dropping black leather corset trimmed in red feathers. Her long legs were hosed in red fishnet stockings and her arms were sheathed in matching gloves. In one hand she held an eight-inch red-lacquered cigarette holder. She offered the other to him and he bent offer and kissed it gallantly; it smelled strongly of her opulent perfume.
“You are late Reeshard,” she chided gently. “I thought that you had forgotten about me.”
“My apologies Mademoiselle,” he replied hastily. “I’m afraid that I… overslept.”
“Well at least you’ll be well rested for tonight,” she purred. She took a drag on her holder, a smile of amusement on her luscious lips; his cock surged in response.
“Come Reeshard, sit with me,” she continued, leading him over to a red silk divan that offered a fantastic view of the bed. She slid gracefully onto the sofa and patted the seat next to her. Dick eagerly sat beside her.
“I hope you like the entertainment I’ve arraigned,” she commented, indicating the writhing femmes on the bed. “They’ve just flown in from Paris.”
“They’re… very beautiful,” Dick offered uncomfortably. He was unsure of what to make of the live sex show, but he was also incredibly aroused.
“Do you like to watch Reeshard?” she asked. “To be a voyeur?”
“Umm, I suppose,” he replied.
“Tell me Reeshard, you are a good friend of Bruce Wayne oui?”
“He was my ward growing up,” Dick answered. “He practically raised me. Why?”
“And if anything were to happen to him, you would take over Wayne Enterprises?” she continued.
“Yes! Why are you asking all of these questions?”
“Relax darling,” the seductive songstress cooed waving her holder in front of him. “I know everything I need to know now.”
The sweet smoke wafted into his face and he began to feel lightheaded.
“You’re trying to drug me!” he accused, waving the smoke away.
“Nonsense Reeshard,” she told him as she crossed her fishnet-clad legs seductively. The slinky stockings were being held up by black satin garters adorned with a life-like red silk flower.
“Do you like my garters darling?” she asked him, drawing his attention to her gorgeous gams.
“What?” asked the young man distractedly as he looked at her legs. “Oh yes, very nice.”
“No Reeshard, look closer,” she insisted.
Foolishly he leaned closer; it was just enough. A stream of red gas shot from the flower and into his face. He sighed and slumped forward, his head coming to rest on her silky leg.
“That’s enough girls,” she told the whores on the bed as she absentmindedly patted Dick’s cheek. “I would like to be alone with my little sleepyhead.”
The two femmes, Romanian prostitutes that the Countess had recently imported via Paris, stopped their enjoyable activities and climbed off the bed. Without a word they left to go rejoin the party.
“Will you be needing me Mademoiselle?” the blonde French maid asked. She had been watching the proceedings with interest.
“No Fifi you may go as well. But don’t wander too far, I may require your assistance.”
The sexy domestic curtsied and left, her Mistress’ attention already fully fixed on the young man resting against her.
“Ah Reeshard,” she sighed. “What am I going to do with you? No matter how often I put you to sleep, you wake up and are still suspicious of me.”
Dick murmured in his sleep and nuzzled the French femme’s leg. She drew thoughtfully on her holder and blew a cloud of smoke into his sleeping face. He smiled happily as if having a wonderful dream.
“I will have to think of a way to keep you happy like this even while you are awake darling,” she told the dreaming Dick as she caressed his hair. “Oui, when you wake up tomorrow you will be completely and totally in love with me.”
Dick awoke feeling remarkably refreshed and euphoric. It took him a moment to realize that his euphoria was mostly due to the fact that somebody was sucking his cock and doing it exceptionally well. He looked down in the direction of his groin and could see a large shape covered by the scarlet satin sheets. He suddenly remembered where he was.
“Oh Fantasia,” he groaned. “That feels amazing.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it Reeshard,” replied the Chanteuse from her spot on the sofa.
Dick’s head whirled around to stare at the gorgeously pale brunette in her sheer black robe enjoying a cup of tea and a cigarette. One of her hands was between her legs, massaging her naked pussy. He pulled the sheet away and was surprised to find Fifi, the blonde maid, hungrily slurping on his pole.
“Fantasia what is she doing!?” he exclaimed.
“Why she is performing fellatio on you darling,” the French femme responded. “And rather well by the noises you were making in your sleep.”
“But why? I mean tell her to stop.”
“Now Reeshard, you sound very ungrateful,” she chided. “After all, I let you watch Silvia and Regina fuck each other last night and you didn’t seem to mind. The least you can do is let me admire Fifi as she gives you head.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized in between gasps of pleasure. “I didn’t mean to be rude; it’s just that I’m not used to this… openness.”
“Apology accepted Reeshard,” she cooed happily. “Now shut up and enjoy yourself.”
Dick leaned back and tried to take her advice. He knew that Bruce would be ashamed of his behavior but he couldn’t help himself. Fantasia was driving him simply mad with desire. Even now as he watched her smoking while she lazily fingered herself he found himself falling deeply in love with her. Or was it just lust? Either way it didn’t matter; he could think of nothing else but pleasing this woman.
“Oh Reeshard darling?” she purred as if reading his mind. “I want you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” he replied truthfully.
“That’s what I like to hear darling. I want you to wear my panties today.”
“Under your clothes, I want you to wear my sexy little black satin panties.”
“I can’t do that!” he protested.
“And why not?” she asked frostily. “You said that you would do anything for me!”
“But what if somebody found out? I’d be a laughingstock if this got out!”
“Reeshard,” she said soothingly as she rose from the sofa and glided over to the bed. “Who would ever find out, hmmm? It will be our little secret.”
She lay down next to him on the bed, her robe hanging open to reveal her spectacularly naked body. She tickled him mischievously under the chin and he could smell the erotic aroma of her juices on her fingers. Fifi continued to blow him but had her fingers wrapped tightly around the base of his dick, effectively stymieing any chance for orgasm. His cock ached for release.
“It would be so sexy,” she said breathily in his ear. “You, sitting in important meetings, my naughty lingerie on under your conservative suit; the slippery satin rubbing against your hard cock; the fabric wedged into the crack of our ass; every movement reminding you of me and how wonderful I make you feel. Promise me Reeshard,” she whispered. “Promise me that you’ll wear my panties and I’ll let you cum.”
Her free hand wandered south and cradled his balls making him groan in pleasure.
“I… I promise,” he gasped. “I promise.”
“Oh Reeshard you make me so happy,” she cooed rolling over on top of him. Fifi moved away and she quickly slipped her creamy cunt over his throbbing pole. “And now I’m going to make you happy.”
Nightwing was leaning against his jet-black motorcycle, looking the very picture of a young, handsome crime-fighter. He was wearing his black nylon tights and black satiny cape that caused so many women to look twice at him. His eyes were dark and steely beneath his black eye-mask, and his jaw was set in a serious manner.
It was a bright, sunny day in Gotham and it showed in the bustle of the busy streets. Everyone was out enjoying the unseasonable fall weather. Nightwing, however, was all business. An informant had given him a tip that something serious was going to go down today. Possibly something to do with drugs, or a kidnapping, he really wasn’t too clear.
That plus the fact that he had been here for hours had the young crime-fighter on edge. He was beginning to think that he had been had. He couldn’t believe that he had left Fantasia’s bed for this. Ah well, duty calls.
As he sat and glowered a young lady came skipping down the street, pushing a baby carriage. For some reason they caught Nightwing’s attention. Perhaps it was the little blonde girl in her frilly light-blue dress and white knee-highs. Her hair was done in cute little pigtails, which along with the little-girl outfit made her look like a child, but her bright blue eyes flashed with very adult intelligence. She was at the least precocious, at most perhaps not what she seemed.
The other thing that was odd was the carriage. The same powder blue color of the girl’s dress and gilded in gold; it was enormous - big enough for an adult let alone an infant. The young lady seemed to sense his eyes on her and stopped skipping.
“Hello mister,” she said in a squeaky, little-girl voice. “Why do you look so mad?”
“Hello little girl,” replied the handsome hero. His suspicion was lessened by her very young-sounding voice. “I’m not mad, I’m just working.”
“Oh, because you look mad. When I’m mad, Lady Annabelle gives me a kiss and I feel much better.”
“My doll; would you like to see her?”
As silly as it sounds, Nightwing was interested in seeing what doll rated such a huge carriage. He came closer to the girl and she pulled back the white lace sun canopy.
Inside, lounging regally on silk pillows and wrapped in a white satin blanket, was… a doll. And, by it’s appearance, not anything special. Blonde hair, white porcelain skin, and glassy, staring blue eyes; a typical child’s doll.
“Why don’t you give Lady Annabelle a kiss?” suggested the sweet little girl.
He could see no harm, so he bent over into the carriage. As his head moved down to the doll, a blast of yellow smoke poured from its round mouth. Nightwing had been knocked out enough times to recognize the too-sweet smell instantly – sleeping gas!
Unfortunately for him, the gas was quite strong and he felt himself drifting off to sleep. A large, bald, black gentleman in a dark suit, who ‘happened’ to be walking by, picked up the young man’s legs and dropped him into the carriage, before continuing on his way. The whole episode had taken only a few seconds and none of the hurrying passersby had seemed to notice.
That is except for one fashionable young lady, who had ostensibly been ‘window shopping’ at the jewelry store across the street from where the abduction had taken place. In reality she had watched the whole scene closely and as soon as she had seen the pale yellow gas drifting from the carriage she had started across the street.
The young woman was wrapped in a full-length black mink coat. Her lovely face was hidden under the brim of an elegant black hat. She held a smoldering cigarette in a short black holder in her leather-gloved hand.
She reached the carriage just as the girl was repositioning the canopy so that nobody could see inside with out bending over to. The woman in black did just that, leaning over and ducking her head under the canopy. The gas from the baby’s mouth had slowed to a trickle.
“Oh, what a little darling,” she exclaimed rubbing the nearly unconscious Nightwing under the chin. “Cootchie-cootchie coo,” she teased.
The black-clad crime-fighter tried to shy away, still fighting even when sleep was so close. Princess Beauty straightened and turned to Lady Gwendolyn, her handmaiden.
“He seems irritable Gwen,” she remarked, nibbling thoughtfully on her holder. “Perhaps he should be put down for a nap.
“That would probably be best,” agreed the tiny blonde in mock seriousness.
The bewitching brunette drew deeply on her holder and once more leaned into the carriage. Nightwing’s eyes fluttered open groggily as he began to recover from Lady Annabelle’s unsuccessful goodnight kiss. He looked up and saw the beautiful Princess, holder held tightly between her red, pursed lips. For a moment he thought he was asleep and dreaming; it simply wasn’t possible that his fantasy was coming true yet again. His cock swelled as she removed the holder and leaned closer, wisps of smoke trailing from between her slightly open lips.
Beauty was surprised to see the young man’s eyes open as she leaned into the carriage. Gwen’s doll had proven an efficient and unexpected weapon in the past, but obviously hadn’t been nearly effective enough this time. Perhaps a bad batch of gas? Well no matter, she would soon rectify the error.
Nightwing’s eyes locked with hers as she inhaled deeply on the holder. Incredibly the young crime-fighter actually smiled as she prepared to finish him off. She exhaled, filling the inside with a cloud of fragrant smoke. When the smoke cleared she saw that Batman’s former partner had finally nodded off to sleep with a curiously satisfied expression on his face. Letting her eyes trail down his tight, black outfit she also noticed a tell-tale bulge just below the waist.
“He’s got a hard-on!” Gwen exclaimed, noticing this as well as her head also appeared beneath the canopy. “And it’s a big one!”
“One can hardly blame him, now can they? It isn’t every day you get put to sleep by two girls as lovely as us.”
“I bet I know what he’s dreaming about,” the tiny blonde giggled and gave his dick a playful tug.“Indeed, they are sure to be pleasant dreams. Sleep tight pretty,” cooed the Princess to the fallen hero. She straightened up and pulled the canopy closed once more. “Now let’s get our aroused friend back to the mansion. I’m dying to see what’s under those tights.”