Morphus Rising Ch 50

"How long has it been since you've seen him?" the Countess inquired
somewhat sharply. She had come too far to allow the incompetence of
others to derail her plans.

"Five days," Fantasia replied defensively. "But Maitresse, I swear to
you he was in my control…"

"I am not interested in what was; I am interested in what is."

"But Contessa it is not my fault…"

The Countess cut her off with a simple raised eyebrow. Fantasia felt
absolutely humiliated being taken to task like naughty child who has
lost her toy; especially in front of that bitch Cheri Le Gams. She
was enjoying watching Fantasia squirm, of that there was no doubt.
But she had seduced Reeshard; she had! Something must have happened
to him; an accident or something and it was being covered up. That
was the only reasonable explanation for him not returning her calls.
It was not her fault.

"It is your fault Mademoiselle Serenade," the Countess informed her
coldly, as if reading her mind. "And you will rectify the situation.
You have called his office, oui?"

"They say that he is out of town on business."

"But you don't believe them?"

"He would have called Contessa, I am sure of it."

"Then you will just have to go down to his office and find out what
has happened. There will be one person there who knows where he is,
you can be sure of that."

"Who Maitresse?"

"Bruce Wayne."

"Shall I bring him to you?"

"No, Lord Morpheus has plans for him that it would be unwise to
interfere with at this juncture. You will interrogate him in his
office and then you will make sure that he has no recollection of
your conversation. Is this understood?"

"Oui Contessa."

"Good. Now run along or you'll be late for your performance."

The chastened Chanteuse hurried from the room.

"What `as `appened to ze boy?" Cheri wondered aloud when she was
gone. "Could `e really just be away?"

"I would think that it is unlikely," the Countess replied
musingly. "It is more likely that one of the competition has gotten
to him already. Whatever her other faults, your siren Mademoiselle
Fantasia is certainly adapt at wrapping men around her fingers."

"Oui I suppose," the blonde muttered petulantly.

The Countess laughed at the pouting sex-pot as she fitted a cigarette
into a platinum holder.

"Don't worry Cheri mon coeur," she teased. "I know that you can do
likewise; but that would be a waste of your formidable talents. And
speaking of that, how is your other assignment progressing."

"Perrrrfectly," the French femme enthused, brightening
immediately. "Ze reception `as been planned and ze guest of `onor
will get ze invitation soon."

"Tre`s bien," her Mistress nodded, drawing on her holder. "I look
forward to meeting the Purple Princess personally. In the meantime I
would like to sample some of your other talents."

She settled back and spread her legs while her Parisian pet went to
her knees. The former fetish model began licking her stockinged thigh
as she picked up the phone and dialed a number. Her plans were
proceeding smoothly, but there was still much that could go wrong.
She felt that she was teetering on a cliff and one misstep would
cause doom. Even Cheri's talented tongue easing into her slit could
not take that feeling away.


The Dream Lady stood in the shadows watching the blonde bouncing up
and down on the man's pole. The tip of her cigarillo glowed orange in
the darkness and then winked out again as she exhaled. Moonlight
through the open window bathed the female's naked body, her hair
shining like silver silk. The couple were clearly enjoying
themselves, sleepy moans punctuating their labored breaths.

Suddenly aroused, the Southern belle approached the bed. She stood
for a moment admiring the soft curves of the blonde's body before
sliding onto the bed. The society-page sweetheart moaned a little
louder as the madam ran a fingernail into the cleft of her buttocks
and her consort did the same when she cupped his balls and gave a
little squeeze.

She smiled and leaned closer to her captive audience, favoring her
with a face-full of sleepy smoke. Silver St. Cloud had been a
miraculous find, not only a wealthy socialite but a superheroine as
well. And Bruce Wayne's fiancée she thought, not for the first time.
To her it seemed unlikely that Mr. Wayne would be unaware of this.
And if one of Gotham City's wealthy citizens was a masked crime-
fighter, why not more? So far the silver-blonde socialite had been
either unwilling or unable to admit that she knew the identities of
any other Caped Crusaders, even under the influence of her most
powerful narcotics.

The same was true of the Huntress, though her background as a
schoolteacher didn't fit in with the Dream Lady's theory. It was her
other captive who had cemented the idea in her mind. The nubile teen
crime-fighter Flamebird was also very rich; the niece of billionaire
businesswoman Kathy Kane. Young Betty had proved more than
susceptible to the Dream Lady's delightfully fragrant gasses and had
named her famous aunt as Batwoman. She didn't seem to know the
identities of any others, and with Dreamy's cock in her ass and her
head swirling in sleepy smoke there was no doubt that she was telling
the truth.

She had a feeling that the elder Ms. Kane did know a few secrets
however. Which is why Batwoman was going to receive a call from her
sidekick tomorrow instructing her to appear at the Dream Lady's
brothel that night. Alone. Her party was shaping up to be quite an
affair. Lady Shadow, who was currently unconscious in her private
quarters, would be supplying Lord Morpheus with the carefully
doctored books that the Countess had supplied. The Princess was to
attend with a new plaything whose identity everybody was dying to
know; Morpheus would be bringing Bruce Wayne; the Duchess was
expecting special guests from England; and she had her own plans for
Batwoman. This soiree would be the talk of the Court for weeks!

A loud grunt interrupted her thoughts and she released her grip on
Dreamy's testicles. Alas, it was too late; he had already shot his
load into Silver Shadow. The heroine slumped over as his sleepy seed
took affect quickly. The madam sighed and shook her head. She had
been planning on interrogating the socialite one last time once
Dreamy had loosened her up. Well it was unlikely that she would have
provided any new information anyway. And now she had her blonde boy-
toy all to herself. She had started stroking him back to hardness
when the phone rang.

It was her private line so she knew that she would have to answer it.

"Good evening Countess, how may I be of service?"

The French woman gave her instructions; Dreamy and his heavenly cock
would have to wait.

 

Morpheus Rising Ch 51

The doorbell at Wayne Manor rang promptly at 8 o'clock and Alfred
went to answer it, wondering who could be calling. He opened the door
to a most unexpected sight. A mature beauty in an emerald satin
designer ball-gown stood on the steps, flanked by two much younger,
but just as lovely and intricately attired, girls. Glancing past them
he saw the Rolls Royce idling in the drive. Who could this be?

"May I help you madam?" he asked politely.

"You may tell Mr. Wayne that Duchess Fiona Fogg is here for dinner,"
the regal brunette replied in a frosty British accent.

"Why I'm afraid that is quite impossible madam," the butler confided
in confusion. "Mr. Wayne is at a business meeting. Was he expecting
you?"

"Do you think that I make a habit of just showing up for dinner
unannounced?" she demanded in outrage. "What about Master Drake? Is
he in residence?"

"Indeed madam; Master Tim is upstairs studying. Shall I fetch him?"

"That won't be necessary."

Her emerald gloved hand rose and a green gas began hissing from the
brilliant ring on her finger. Alfred, caught completely unaware,
slumped limply to the floor of the foyer while the uninvited Royal
guests swept into Wayne Manor.

"Drag him into the study," she ordered her naughty nieces. "I shall
see to Master Drake."

"But we were supposed to get to play with him," Camilla complained
loudly.

"Hush you silly bint," her twin sister chided.

"Both of you keep your mouths shut," their criminally inclined aunt
warned. "You were to keep the boy busy while I seduced Wayne. Without
him, the plan is useless. I am going to go upstairs and find out what
happened."


Tim was sitting at his desk, his Calculus textbook open in front of
him. He had been studiously ignoring it for the last half an hour, a
dreamy expression on his face as he sniffed absentmindedly at his
hand. After a moment his nose crinkled as a new scent tickled his
nostrils. Rising, he crossed the room, following the source of the
strangely familiar smell. It seemed to be coming from the hallway, so
he curiously opened the door… and walked into a cloud of cigarette
smoke.

Tim coughed and tried to wave the smoke away, but it clung to him
like a thick fog. Within moments he could feel himself becoming
lethargic. Through the smoke he could just make out the form of his
lovely attacker, a vision in emerald green satin smiling smugly at
him as she raised the slim brown cigarette to her lips once more. He
needed to act quickly or he would soon be overcome by the fumes…

The Duchess stopped outside of the boy's room and lit a cigarette. It
was the same as she had been smoking that afternoon in the Rolls, so
she was sure that he would subconsciously recognize the scent. She
was equally certain that it would arouse his curiosity, among other
things.

Being certain not to wrinkle her gown, Lady Fogg lowered herself to
her knees and blew several clouds of smoke under the door. She then
stood and waited to the side of the door, preparing to take another
deep inhale as she did so. Sure enough her young admirer was
attracted to the unique-smelling smoke and came to investigate. As
the door opened she brought the cigarette to her lips and as soon as
his head came into view she smothered it in a deep cloud of
paralyzing fog.

Unprepared for the attack, Tim was slow to react and in seconds she
had blown several more soporific puffs his way. Finally turning
towards her he tried vainly to sweep the mind-numbing nebula away.
With the last of his strength he stumbled back through the door and
tried to close it behind him. The Duchess quickly stepped forward and
put her foot in the door to block it.

"What a naughty boy you are!" she scolded, pushing the door back open
and following him into the room. "Trying to escape is very impolite."

He stood helpless while she stalked closer, the door swinging shut
behind her…