Ch. 45

"The professor has been brought to your chamber my Queen," the guard
informed the Countess.

"Very well, I shall be ready shortly."

The French femme finished applying the dark kohl around her eyes and
smiled at her reflection. She doubted that even her own daughter
would recognize her like this. She felt bad about lying to Anastasia,
particularly after their talk this morning, but secrecy was still
necessary. Sending her to that snotty girl's school would be the
perfect distraction until she was ready to let her know the whole
plan.

She snapped her fingers and a pair of shapely slave girl's, naked
save for their collars, leapt quickly to their feet. With ever so
much care they lifted the large golden headdress from its velvet
pillow and gently placed it on their Mistress' head. Antoinette
waited until they had returned to their positions on their knees by
her side before rising to her feet. She stood in front of the full-
length mirror examining herself critically.

Her gown was of delicate white silk, long and flowing but snug
against her breasts. A wide, heavy necklace of gold and jewels
covered her chest and a similar gold belt encircled her waist. Her
fingers and wrists likewise shone with gold adornments. The straight,
jet-black hair of her wig was as glossy as her jewels and her dark,
shadowy makeup gave her an air of mystery. The piece d' resistance
was of course the headdress, a golden cobra with jeweled eyes jutting
forth majestically from the front. Satisfied with her transformation
she turned away and motioned to her guards.

They were young, handsome men dressed as ancient Roman Centurions.
Their forearms and lower legs were covered with leather bucklers and
their torsos by short leather tunics. The outfits were obviously for
adornment more than protection as their erect cocks were displayed
proudly by the too-short garments. White capes and red-plumed helmets
completed their costumes and each of the men carried long spears and
shields.

"Announce me to the Court," she commanded grandly to her well-hung
escorts.

They nodded eagerly and hurried through the door. Once inside her
Throne Room they banged the butts of their spears on the hard marble
floor. All activity in the room quickly ceased and the Countess'
gathered minions turned their attention to the soldiers. There was
quite an assortment of followers, from male and female slaves clad
only in their collars, to beautiful harem girls lounging on silken
pillows or frolicking in the crystal water of the Olympic-size wading-
pool, to more Centurions long spears and long cocks equally at the
ready for whatever their Highness might need. This was Antoinette's
personal Court, painstakingly and secretly assembled to be her loyal
lackeys for her planned ascension to Morpheus' side. Of course the
fool would be fast asleep by then; permanently.

"The Queen has returned!" bellowed one of the Centurions. "All hail
to the Princess of Thieves; Queen of the Desert; Goddess of the Nile.
Fall to your knees and tremble before her awesome beauty! Cleopatra
has returned!"

The Countess allowed herself a small smile as she swept into the room
and marched to her throne. Her decision to use actors to comprise her
gang at proven to be a stroke of genius. Not only were they generally
attractive, easily controlled, and looking to strike it rich; they
also had a welcome flair for the dramatic as evidenced by her
herald's appropriately grandiose introduction.

One of her harem girls handed her a golden staff as she took her seat
on the throne which sat upon a raised dais. Two slave-boys stood to
either side of the gilded chair, gently wafting the air with large
palm-frond fans. Another pair of servants, pretty young girls, rushed
forward with trays of refreshments. She took a crystal goblet of wine
from one and sipped it as she surveyed her domain.

"Bring me the prisoner," she ordered.

A moment a later, an overweight, older man in a conservative suit was
led before her. He had an absent-minded air about him and hardly
seemed aware of his surroundings. He looked startled when the woman
on the dais addressed him.

"Good afternoon professor," the Countess purred. "I hope you have
been having a pleasant stay so far."

She was sure it had been relaxing enough; he had been kept
unconscious since his kidnapping from Yale University several weeks
previously.

"Um I suppose," the Professor of Egyptian Antiquities mumbled.

"Excellent. Now why don't we make use of that handsome head of yours,
shall we?"

She snapped her fingers and two of her trusted aides, brought from
Paris, came forth bearing the two heavy tomes that she had recently
received from Lady Shadow. They placed them on a table at the foot of
the dais.

"Please tell me what you think of these books Professor."

He stepped forward uncertainly and examined the volumes.

"Why these are the Book of Shadows and the Book of Dreams," he
breathed in awe. "I barely believed that they existed! Where did you
find such a treasure?"

"That is unimportant. What can you tell me about them?"

"Well what is known about them is mainly legend," he lectured. "They
are reputedly to be used in conjunction to locate and operate
the `Eye of Bast', a talisman of great power. The Book of Shadows is
a map of where to find the amulet in the Underworld and the Book of
Dreams gives instructions on how to use it."

"And do you know what it is used for?"

"Supposedly it gives the possessor the power to control other's
minds."

"And you will be able to decipher these books?"

"Why certainly!"

He started flipping through them, eagerly pointing out interesting
passages. After a few moments however his enthusiasm faltered and he
looked up at the exotically beautiful woman on the throne.

"Say, why do you want to know this anyway?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because I want the `Eye' darling," the French femme replied rising
from her chair and strolling sensuously down the stairs of the
dais. "And you are going to help me get it."

"That could be very dangerous if it gets into the wrong hands," the
bespectacled scholar insisted pompously. "I won't help you, or
anybody else, find it!"

"Nobody darling?" she purred with a sultry smile. "Not even your
Queen?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You are beginning to bore me professor," the Countess
sighed. "Guards seize him!"

"Unhand me!" the large man demanded as a pair of her Centurions took
his arms. "I demand to be released!"

"Silence!" the would-be Egyptian Goddess spat. "You are of no use to
me any longer. However, I think you know somebody who could be
extremely helpful to me."

The sexy siren brandished her staff and a red gas began to seep from
the end. She thrust it into the professor's face and he quickly
disappeared in the billowing cloud. There was silence for a moment
and the Countess waited in anticipation while the personality-
altering gas went to work. The drug was imperfect, as the form that
the personality change would take was impossible to predict.
Antoinette was aware that the professor was a schizophrenic; she
could only hope that the personality that she needed chose to
manifest itself now.

"I demand to be released!" the prisoner bellowed indignantly once
more. His voice sounded different and the Countess leaned forward
expectantly as the gas cleared. The professor's entire demeanor had
changed, his bearing seeming almost regal.

"Unhand me you knaves! How dare you assault the person of your King!"

"Release him," the Countess commanded.

The guards dropped his arms and the mountainous man stepped away from
them.

"I shall have you both flogged for your insolence," he declared. "And
what have you done with my robes? These are not my clothes!"

"Let him go," the French femme instructed her guards. "Tell me
professor how do you feel?"

"I do not know who this professor you are referring to is wench, but
I can assure you that it is not I."

"Tell me then who are you?"

"I am the Prince of Thebes, Lord of the Nile, Master of the Desert!
You stand in the presence of the legendary King Tut!"

"Welcome back my liege, but do you not recognize your own Queen?"

"Cleopatra! It is you!"

"Yes sire, you were ill but I have nursed you back to health. Look
around at the Court I have assembled for your ascension as King of
Gotham City."

"Gotham City? What perfect news my dear! And you shall be at my side!"

"That sounds wonderful Tut darling, but first you should get some
rest. You've had a long day."

Her staff hissed once more, the gas a thick yellow cloud, and the
rotund Royal fell like a stone into the guards' arms.

"Return him to his chamber and be sure that he remains asleep until I
say otherwise," she commanded as she climbed the dais and settled
herself back on her throne. She had no intention of sharing her power
with the megalomaniac schizophrenic; he was a useful tool and nothing
more. And like any tool he would be easily discarded once his
usefulness was at an end. Much like Morpheus she mused with a smile.

Flushed with pleasure that her plans were proceeding so nicely, the
French femme motioned to one of her maidens. The talented whore
slipped smoothly to her knees and the Countess' flush soon deepened
considerably. The plot was thickening, but there was still much that
could go wrong. Would she be victorious or end up in the soup? Only
time would tell. Until then she would play the cards that were dealt
her. She picked up the Book of Shadows and began leafing through the
indecipherable text. It never hurt to have an Ace up one's sleeve.

 

Ch. 46

Morpheus couldn't remember the last time he had seen the Princess
this happy. Since the abduction of Nightwing and subsequently
Catwoman's alluring young assistant Pussycat, she had been positively
giddy with enthusiasm. She had insisted on overseeing the training
for both of them. Pussycat was her little pet kitty and Nightwing her
new handmaiden called Raven. Both were taking to their new roles like
fish to water, much to Beauty's glee.

Today was to be a landmark for the former Boy Wonder as she would
attempt to dominate the young man without the use of drugs to keep
him asleep. The crime-fighter was a stubborn boy and was sure to put
up a fight, although the Dream Doc had the utmost faith in his
paramour's ability to mold the fool's mind to her will. Sooner or
later he would be the Princess' sissy, of that he had no doubt. And
if he needed to be put to sleep in the meantime, well there was
plenty of sleep sand to go around.

Sandman watched as the lad was led blindfolded into one of the
playrooms. The muscular young man was naked save for the blindfold
and a leather collar. The collar was attached to a fine silver chain
and the leash was held by Beauty's precocious handmaiden Lady
Gwendolyn. The doll-like blonde managed to appear completely in
control despite the Caped Crusader's obvious size advantage. She
shackled his arms to a large x-shaped frame in the middle of the room
and then sat down in a nearby rocking chair.

The room was decorated very prettily, like a little girl's doll
house, and the bound crime-fighter standing naked against the wall
was a delicious juxtaposition next to the childlike Lady Gwendolyn as
she sat brushing the hair of her doll Annabelle. He could hardly wait
to see what Beauty had in store for young Nightwing and his cock
began to stiffen in anticipation. He wouldn't have long to wait as
the Princess strolled into the room followed by several slaves
pushing a clothes rack with several garment bags hanging from it.

His paramour was dressed in a sexy leopard print bikini, a matching
sari-style skirt wrapped casually around her waist hung open to
reveal black silk stockings. Shoulder length black leather gloves
completed the outfit and in one she held one of her elegant cigarette
holders.

"Wake him up," she commanded Gwendolyn who hopped up from her chair
quickly to obey.

The tiny blonde took the stopper out of a small crystal bottle and
waved it under Nightwing's nose. The lad stirred immediately and
looked around sightlessly under his blindfold.

"Who's there?" he cried out, straining against his bonds. It was the
first time that he had been completely awake since his "makeover" and
he was obviously disoriented.

"Sssh, don't be scared Pretty," the Princess purred soothingly as she
slunk closer to gently massage his cheek. She inhaled and blew an
achingly gentle stream of perfumed smoke at his nostrils.

He moaned softly and she pulled off his blindfold.

"You," he breathed, almost reverently.

"Who were you expecting, the Queen of England?" Beauty teased,
laughing at her own little joke.

"Let me go!" he demanded forcefully.

"Do you really want to go Pretty?" she asked lightly as she began to
stroke his cock which had sprung to life as soon as he had smelled
her cigarette smoke and was now throbbing obscenely. "I don't think
you want to go anywhere."

"Let me go," he said again and this time it was more plea than
command.

Beauty strolled behind him, her hand lingering on his shaft and then
trailing to cup his heavy ball-sac. His scrotum was swollen with cum;
aching for release. But it was not to come, not yet.

"The time has come to choose Pretty," Beauty whispered hotly in his
ear. "To choose who you want to be."

She motioned to Gwen and the little girl went over to the clothes
rack. She pushed the wheeled device closer and then unzipped one of
the garment bags and peeled it down. Hanging there was Nightwing's
uniform; black and red tights, black cape, boots, and gloves. Beauty
walked over and picked it up by the hanger and carried it over to the
shackled crime-fighter.

"It's all there," she told him. "Everything you need to go back to
your old life."

She placed the outfit back on the rack and waltzed over to a table.
There was a crystal ashtray sitting on it and she stubbed out the
remains of her cigarette. She hopped up onto the table and slowly
crossed her legs. There was a gold case next to the ashtray and she
opened it and removed a long white cigarette. The femme placed it
carefully into the holder, holding it horizontally in front of her
face and making a great show of fitting it in.

"Would you be a dear Gwen?" she asked.

Her little side-kick smiled wickedly and came over to her
Mistress. She held a lighter in her white-gloved hand and quickly
produced a flame. Standing carefully to her side so that Nightwing
would have a good view, the doll-faced blonde raised the lighter.
Beauty licked her red painted lips and brought the tip of the holder
up so that it rested on her tongue. She leaned forward, lips
tightening and brought the cigarette to life.

The Princess took a quick snap inhale and let the smoke linger
heavily in her mouth before exhaling towards the ceiling. She smiled
at her handmaiden and took another drag before pulling the blonde
closer for a sensuous little kiss. When she pulled away, smoke
drifted from both of their mouths like mist. Nightwing watched the
whole thing silently, his dick twitching in excitement. Beauty slid
to her feet and stalked back to him.

She stopped in front of him and regarded him coolly, like a cat
contemplating snapping up a particularly delectable little mouse. Her
holder rested neatly in her gloved hand, just inches from her mouth
as she tapped her chin with her finger. After a moment she seemed to
come to a decision. Placing the holder in her mouth, she gave the
former Boy Wonder a seductive little smile.

"As I said, you have a choice to make," Beauty began, with smoke
trailing from her mouth as she spoke. "Your sexy little costume is
right there and you will be free to out it on and walk out of here.
But first I want you to see exactly what you'll be leaving behind."

She inhaled deeply and sent a stream of blue-grey smoke into his
chest. It reflected into his face and he coughed, his eyes watering.
Before he could regain his composure she was on top of him, her mouth
closing hungrily over his own. He moaned as she ravaged him with her
lips and tongue, her hands roaming carelessly over his body, between
his legs.

"Show him the other outfit Gwen," she commanded as she stepped away.

Nightwing looked at her dazedly, lipstick smeared on his lips and
cheeks, and she grabbed him by the hair roughly.

"This is what you will be leaving behind forever Pretty," she told
him icily as she pointed his head towards the clothes rack.

Her handmaiden unzipped the second garment bag and pulled it off to
reveal its contents. Nightwing gasped when he saw what it was – the
most darling little French Maid outfit that he had ever seen. The
dress was shiny black satin with a delicate white lace apron and
frilly white petticoats. There were black fishnet stockings and
little white satin gloves as well. And to complete it all, a pair of
the skimpiest, sheer, black silk panties that he had ever seen. The
perfect panties for a little sissy-slave.

Suddenly he blinked his eyes and shook his head. What was he
thinking; these were girls' clothes!

"So what will it be darling?" Beauty prompted. "Do you want to put on
those silly tights and leave, or stay with me and wear the prettiest
dresses and underthings?"

"I… I want my clothes," Nightwing announced, trying to sound sure of
himself but failing miserably. "My uniform I mean."

"Your sexy little French Maid uniform? Is that what you want?"

"No I want my Nightwing outfit! My cape, my boots, my utility belt!"

"Nonsense," the Princess huffed. "You want to be my sweet little
girl."

She stood behind him, one hand gently stroking his hardness, her wet
lips brushing against his ear as she whispered to him.

"You want to stay with me don't you darling. Stay with me and let me
dress you like a pretty little whore. You can have your own room
where you can play with your pretty dolls."

"I don't want dolls," Nightwing whispered faintly.

"Sssh, I know that's not true. You want a doll like pretty little
Annabelle. You want a doll to give you sweet, sleepy kisses."

Nightwing moaned and shook his head. Tears were beginning to stream
down his cheeks.

"Yes you do Pretty. You want to watch your Mistress smoking from her
sexy holder while you play with your naughty boy-cock."

He moaned again, louder this time, and turned his head to look at the
Princess. She took a slow drag on her holder and blew it into his
face with a big smile.

"Yes my pretty Raven, you'll watch me smoking so sexily, so
elegantly. Then when your boy-cock is nice and hard, I'll do all
sorts of nasty things to you with my girl-cock. And then when I'm
done treating you like the little slut that you are, you'll get a
goodnight kiss from sweet little Annabelle. That's what you want,
isn't it Pretty."

"Yes Mistress."

She stroked his cock harder now.

"What is your name slut?"

"R… Raven Mistress."

"Tell me what you want."

"I… I want to be pretty Mistress."

"What else?"

"I want a kiss."

"A kiss hmmm?" she teased letting her tongue dart in to lick his
earlobe. "A kiss from whom darling Raven?"

"From Annabelle Mistress."

"Excellent pet, but I need you to do something for me first."

She released him from the shackles and led him over to a large cradle
by the wall. The vixen helped him into the over-sized baby bassinet
and placed a white blankie with pink satin trim over him and snuggled
it up under his chin.

"It's time for a little nap, my sweet little girl," Beauty cooed
softly. "When you awaken you will remember nothing of your previous
life. You will remember nothing of Nightwing, or Robin, or Batman;
only Raven and her Mistress. Do you understand?"

He nodded hesitantly, dimly conscious that he could be making a huge
mistake. But his beautiful Mistress smiled at him encouragingly
around her holder and blew a sweet, relaxing cloud of smoke at him.
He closed his eyes and giggled happily, his doubts fading like the
smoke that dissipated into the air.

"That's my sweet Pretty," Beauty smiled tousling his hair. "But don't
sleep quite yet Pretty, I have a surprise for you."

She glanced up at the balcony above where she knew Morpheus sat
watching from the shadows behind the curtain. He would be as turned
on as the boy was, she knew. He had enjoyed putting the Boy Wonder to
sleep immensely; the power he had over the helpless lad as he forced
him to throw the switch that should have killed Batman. And now,
watching as she exercised her own power of the boy was no doubt
driving him crazy. She smiled up at him and then motioned for
Gwendolyn to join her.

The girl carried her pretty blonde doll Annabelle in one arm and a
second doll in the other. It was made of the same fine white
porcelain as Annabelle, but had shiny black hair and sparkling red
eyes like rubies. Her dress was of the finest black silk and her
little white hands were encased in black lace gloves. Gwen handed the
doll to Beauty and her Mistress took it. It had a wind-up key on her
back and she turned it several times. A tune began emanate from the
little doll; a lullaby.

Nightwing smiled and murmured sleepily; something that sounded
like `fantasia'. His cock was throbbing and made a tent of the
blanket.

"Look what I have Pretty, your own little dolly," Beauty purred. "Her
name is Black Beauty."

"She's pretty," he sighed contentedly as Black Beauty continued to
play her relaxing lullaby.

"Yes she is my dear; almost as pretty as you. Now how about a
goodnight kiss?"

The Princess drew lightly on her holder and exhaled gently, almost
lovingly, into Raven's smiling face. She leaned down and kissed him
on the lips, his mouth opening under hers. Their tongues met amidst a
swirl of mist as she released the last of the narcotic-tinged smoke
from between her lips. She pulled away, wisps of white trailing from
their mouths.

"And now a kiss for Black Beauty."

She held the doll down to him and he gave it a reverent kiss on its
white porcelain cheek. He then lay back and waited expectantly for
what he knew would follow. There was a low hiss and red gas began
flowing from the round O of the doll's mouth. It quickly filled the
cradle obscuring the boy from view. Beauty turned and looked toward
the balcony; her Master was leaning forward past the curtain. His
cock was in his hand and he was pumping it furiously. The gas cleared
revealing the sleeping young man who had once been Robin the Boy
Wonder, but was now Raven the sissy maid.

Morpheus' eyes met hers and he came with a sudden surprised grunt. It
was unlike him to lose control like that and the Princess knew that
she had caused it with her masterful performance. The boy had cum as
well as evidenced by the spreading stain across his blankie.

"Nightie night Pretty," she cooed. "I hope you have sweet dreams."

She turned to her handmaiden Gwendolyn. "Get Annabelle's carriage; I
feel like going shopping."

She looked back to the balcony but her lover was gone. No doubt to go
change his pants she thought with a wicked grin. Oh well, she had
another surprise in store for him later. For now she needed some new
jewelry for the Dream Lady's party. And she knew just the right
place!