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This is my first non-autobiographical story, and also my first superhero story. Special thanks to Josh for helping me research this story. His knowledge of the DC Universe was essential.
Nothing will fuck you up like arrogance. It inevitably leads to a smug, overconfidence and, ultimately, letting your guard down. It’s not the only time things can fuck you up, but it’s the most poetic.
For a superhero, it’s doubly true. Each hero has a little chink in their armor and that weakness, that crack, that hole can be a major breach if it’s not guarded. It’s funny, but 9 times out of 10, arrogance is that chink.
It’s especially surprising when that weakness is created by another superhero.
“Yes Vicky, thank you for calling. You’ve done very well. Good girl. Now don’t forget to meet Nightwing tomorrow as we discussed. Goodnight.” Scarecrow snapped shut his phone and placed it down on the table.
“So, Nightwing has a grudge against Batman…some latent resentment,“ Scarecrow monologued from deep in his lair. “Doesn’t like being shepparded endlessly. Doesn’t like feeling like even though he’s out of the nest, so to speak, he’s still a baby bird. Well, isn’t that just the cherry on top. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. What you don’t realize Nightwing is I can and will use that against you. That chip, some of my infamous drugs, maybe your repressed sexual desires, and my new Trans-Concious Molder Beam are just the things to bring you down. I’ll use them all to make some adjustments to your…reality. Today you will fall, and tomorrow the whole Bat Cabal will follow you. Hahahahhhaaahahhahahaaaa….”
Scarecrow looked up at the machine and then at his watch. The file Vicki had delivered to Nightwing 30 minutes ago would have spurred him into action. Not to mention the conversations she had had with him over the last few weeks. Conversations meant to motivate the young hero to act on his own.
The file itself had been addressed to Batman from Chief O’Hara who was attempting to go around Commissioner Gordon who he suspected had been turned. But then Vicky was “caught in a bind” and asked Nightwing to deliver the file to Batman. Of course it was all a farce, a bit of manipulation to get the former boy wonder to the Scarecrow’s hideout alone.
The notes inside the file went on at length about how Batman was the only one who could bring this situation with Scarecrow to a close—with neither Nightwing nor Robin having the skills necessary. Yes, that little bit would be all the encouragement Nightwing needed. The first domino to fall would be the sweetest. All he needed now was for his star performer to step on stage and the show could begin. The final performance of Nightwing before his character would be…recast.
***
Nightwing sped toward the Warehouse District below Gotham Blvd. This area had been popular with criminals for years and acting on “a tip”, the hero wove his powerful bike to the secret location. Arriving in such a desolate area was bound to create a ruckus so he was careful to park his bike in an alley several blocks away, scale the closest building, and proceed from there via rooftop.
Once at the address, he climbed down the facade and slipped silently in through a window. Of course, the trap was already bated and set and, as he slipped inside, he was unaware he had tripped a warning alarm that informed the nefarious Scarecrow of his presence.
“Not a great neighborhood, but it never is.” He whispered to himself as he slipped inside, crossed an empty room, and opened the door to the hallway. He stopped, listening intently to the distant voices coming from down the hall. “Sounds like my contact was right. Scarecrow is at it again.”
Cat-like, he moved silently toward sounds. The voice got louder as he approached a metal balcony hanging out into the large two-story control room of the old power station. A stairway on the right clung to the side wall and descended in an arc to the main floor below.
Nightwing used this vantage point to survey the room, checking all the angles for anyone or anything that could make trouble. Below, he spied the Scarecrow in his new hideout, intensely focused on the task at hand and oblivious to Nightwing’s presence, or so he thought.
On one side of the room was a large console control panel, a remnant of the room’s earlier days. There was also a large stainless steel buttress about 7 feet wide and reaching two and a half stories to the ceiling. It gleamed in the dark and dingy room, the only thing not filthy. It looked to have been added more recently, possibly to stabilize the building from collapse. A leather bench stood in the corner alone but for a rolling table with jugs and bottles. Other than that the room seemed largely bare, save for the shadows from the window above illuminating the floor in an irregular pattern, and several task lamps.
_All in all, nothing very threatening,_ Nightwing thought as he peered down from above to see the Scarecrow working away on some device.
Scarecrow began the show. “This new breakthrough will change everything…and that meddlesome Batman will never be the wiser. He’s the only one that could ever stop me, the Boy Blunder and NightFool are too dependent on him, too immature. Incapable of getting anything done on their own. They are mere boys and will be easy to take once I have Batman. Once the three are out of the way, there will be nothing to stop me from again rising to dominate Gotham City. All I need…”
“Is to learn your lesson, Scarecrow,” a cocky Nightwing said from above, his deep voice dominating the room and running roughshod over Scarecrow’s monologue. Young Dick Grason, his muscular body encased in a costume of Spandex and Kevlar looked down on the room below. Realizing there was nobody there other than the feeble old Scarecrow, he lowered his guard and allowed himself the luxury of some banter.
“Nightwing…but, Batman?”
“Sorry Scarecrow, I’m afraid he had other plans and won’t be joining us,” Nightwing foolishly announced, inadvertently leaking his solo attendance. “I realize that you think I’m incapable of taking you down on my own, but the reality is I can do it without even trying.” the muscle-bound hero bragged.
“But, my plan!” Scarecrow feigned.
“Don’t worry, it was going to fail anyway. I appreciate your confidence Scarecrow, but as usual, I’m taking you downtown. You can come peacefully, or you can put up a ruckus. Either way is fine by me. I know all your tricks and you won’t be using any of them on me this time.”
_Maybe,_ thought the Scarecrow. He looked up and marveled at Nightwing’s body. Young and strong, tall and lean, he was the perfect image of the masculine ideal. His tight costume only served to enhance the appearance of the former acrobat’s taught and muscled body.
“I won’t put up a fuss Nightwing, but you will have to catch me.” he continued, his hand pressing a button on the console before him.
High above in the rafters of the old warehouse, a series of nozzles opened and began dispensing an odorless, colorless gas into the room. The lighter-than-air mixture first collected near the ceiling. Then, after reaching maximum displacement at the top of the room, began sinking lower and lower. The cocky hero had no idea anything was amiss. His guard down and hungry to show Batman he was capable of performing solo, Nightwing continued his playful banter.
“Catch you? I cannot think of anything easier than to catch a pathetic example of masculinity as yourself. I am bigger than you in every physical dimension and have the agility to match.” The young hero continued, unaware that he was already breathing the new gas the Scarecrow had invented.
“But again, we can do this either way.” Slowly, almost lazily, he began descending the stairs to the floor below. His slow swagger left him basting in the new gas for longer than the Scarecrow had even hoped and a sly smile came to his face as he watched a series of dim red led lights on the wall mark the depth of the gas. They marched downwards just slightly faster than Nightwing, his head always basking in the toxic compounds as he continued down. As the gas filled his lungs and with each passing breath a potent concoction of mind-altering chemicals leached into his body. Ecstasy, viagra, a mild roofy, aphrodisiacs, and a new and powerful psychotropic coctail all swirled into him and his bloodstream. His nose, mouth, and lungs had no idea they were willing players in the game at hand. And soon another apendeage would be added to the mix.
At the bottom of the stairs now, he crossed the room with the confident swagger of man in control of all he came into contact with. His lithe form effortlessly moved toward his nemesis, each step offering a perfect rendering of his muscular body. His handsome face behind his mask and the codpiece & utility belt around his waist were the only contrasting pieces to the spandex costume that accented every muscle on his body. His right hand went to the small of his back to grab his handcuffs, but as he approached the Scarecrow he realized he couldn’t seem to coordinate his hand. Baffled and slightly confused, he continued toward the console. His mind so preoccupied retrieveing his cuffs, that he lost a certain amount of situational awareness.
"I guess you are right, why even try?" Scarecrow said to the now befuddled hero. He stepped out of the shadows and approached Nightwing at the end of the console. There he stood, hands in front, ready to be cuffed.
Nightwing stood, like a model on a stage. He did not move, caught in an inner thought loop, trying to sleuth out what was happening to him. He shuddered and felt his cock throb in his costume. He looked down, bewildered, at the Scarecrow his face 6 or 7 inches below.
“My boy, you seem confused.” A pause, “Nightwing? Perhaps…” His voice trailed off as his hands went to the broad and muscled chest before him. Groping his way along, he made sure to pay special attention to the hero’s nipples, tweaking them and gently twisting. Nightwing wobbled and hissed.
“I…er…I think, I….not right…can’t….”
“What’s that? You can’t? Well, maybe this will help.” Scarecrow replied, continuing to run his hands over the former Boy Wonder’s delts and arms, feeling every sinew, every muscle, every fiber of the man before him before returning to his sensitive nips.
“Ungh…no…stop….you’re……feeling me…up…” Nightwing grunted. His body came alive under the touch of the troll-like old man.
“Am I?” Scarecrow replied, his fingers now twirling and twisting Nightwing’s sensitive nipples more vigorously, sending a wave of pleasure through the hero.
“Ungh…so…good…” Nightwing mumbled, lost in these new sensations.
“No, I’d say you don’t want me to stop at all…stop at all…stop at all… No, I think you’d like some more…like some more…like some more… You’d like a lot more…more…more…that would be nice, wouldn’t it, Nightwing? Some nice attention to that beautiful body of yours….yours….yours….”
Nightwing, in a fog, repeated back, “Nice attention……yes… attention…I’d like…more….” He was now lost in the intense sexual feelings being created by the chemicals he’d been steeped in and the physical manipulation of his muscled body. The ecstasy made every touch of the Scarecrow’s hand intensely pleasurable and like nothing he had ever experienced in his moral if not completely chaste life.
“Yes, that’s right, just relax and let me show you some things about your body. Things you never knew.” Scarecrow began groping up and down the former Boy Wonder’s leather codpiece. His fingers paying close attention to the now defined head and slight curve toward the end of the main shaft, as it pulled the codpiece tight. It was thicker than he expected but his fingers still gingerly surrounded and squeezed the hard veiny flesh as they moved up and down.
“I, er…must…stop…this…”
“Stop this…you don’t really want that, do you Nightwing? It feels good to have your cock stroked. Why, the way it’s tenting out your codpiece is almost pornographic. Yes, I think you like this. Scarecrow slowly pushed Nightwing back against the inclined stainless steel buttress beside the console as he fondled the now rigid cock. Above, the nozzles clicked shut, having dispensed enough of the gas to keep Nightwing’s head thoroughly immersed, while Scarecrow’s shorter stance remained clear. He pushed another button and a different gas began to rise from the floor.
“You know, you’re a very cocky young man, Nightwing. You let your guard down this evening, didn’t you? A rookie mistake. Something Batman would never have done…so maybe it’s better that you arrived. It complicates my plan, but only slightly.” The Scarecrow taunted, his plan going perfectly. “At any rate, I’m happy to have you…” The evil nemesis continued to reinforce the idea that Batman was the true target. He continued to fondle the hero’s cock through the codpiece. “What must it be like to live in such a body as yours? So masculine, so muscular, so handsome. I bet you’ve never wanted for anything, have you?”
“Wanted…for…anything…no…I…never….”
“I thought not…now before I destroy you, I would like to have one special experience with you.” The scarecrow mused as he reached into his pocket and pressed a button. Out of the wall folded two angled metallic paddles, one on each side of the Nightwing’s head. He then moved to the console picked up what looked like a chrome headset and slipped it around the base of his head, just below the occipital lobe.
“Yes, you’ll like this, I’m sure. Well, at least the first part.”
As one hand continued to distract the hero, Scarecrow began deftly unbuckling Nightwings utility belt. He admired every inch of the young man’s 8 pack and the now obscenely straining codpiece. He reached down and unbuckled the belt, placing it on the console. He then unsnapped the codpiece, releasing the long and girthy cock of Batman’s former Number 2. It rapidly expanded further into the talented hands of his nemesis.
“Oh, well, this really is spectacular. It’s everything I’d heard. Everything. That Vicki Vail is not so good at keeping a secret as you might think. Some might call her a blabbermouth, letting me know lots of the secrets of your little Bat Club. But don’t worry, I won’t tell Batman of your tryst together. Still, she did insinuate that you’re much larger than Batman, tell me, are you larger than Batman?
“Yes…I…a bit…larger cock…FUCK….” the now very drugged hero said back, his arousal spiking as the more subtle aphrodisiacs of the Scarecrow’s soup began to take effect.
“Yes, it certainly seems you are…especially now,” the Scarecrow continued as he continued manipulating Nightwings oversized equipment, his fingers now slick with prejizz as they slid up and down the girthy pole. “You’re so horny, aren’t you. It’s been a long day. I bet you’d like a nice blow job, wouldn’t you?
“Blowjob…I…”
“Yes, a hot, wet, suck….why don’t you let me help you relieve some tension. I know Batman wouldn’t approve, but you don’t work for him anymore, do you?
“No…I…don’t…but…” Nightwing struggled. Trying to reconcile his intense hornyness with his moral code.
“Surely getting your nut before you bring me in would feel good? When is the last time you’ve had a truly satisfying suck job?”
“Been…a while…but…
By now Scarecrow was getting irritated with Nightwing’s resistance. For the plan to work he needed to keep the hero stationary and distracted. But more importantly, he needed his brain to be focused and aroused. In fact, he would need to be at the moment of orgasm for his plan to work and the only way to reach that was to get the hero off. Not that he was complaining. He was very aroused himself at the thought of taking the hero’s load.
“Now Nightwing….You’re so horny, aren’t you? Now that you think about it you’ve never been so horny. And here I am before you, someone you’ve wanted to take down for years. I think you have some aggression built up toward me, don’t you?” Scarecrow went on, trying to sweeten the pot.
“Ag…agggresssion…yes…some…agresssion…”
“Yes, I thought so. What if you made me suck you? Would that be better? I think deep down, you’d like to dominate me….sexually, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you like to force me to suck you off? To fellate you?
“Sexually?” The hero parrotted back, confused.
“But, not right. Use powers for good…” Nightwing mumbled back to the old man.
Scarecrow was concerned that he’d not be able to overcome Nightwings resistance to not only a homosexual act but a breach of etiquette and the law as well. He realized in a second the mistake of trying to get Nightwing to commit an act so against his morals, to force the old man to blow him. He had put a lot of work into this night, from the gas to the machine, but in order for it to all work, Nightwing would need to be stationary, distracted, and intensely focused. The act itself would also stimulate the parasympathetic portion of the autonomic nervous system, which would make the waves of the device many times more effective on the hero’s brain. Scarecrow had lusted after Nightwing for years now and the bonus was he would be able to have him while also executing his plan. He had realized long ago that he could kill THREE birds with one stone, distracting Nightwing while simulating his brain and living out one of his biggest fantasies. But now Nightwing seemed to be fighting more than he expected.
He was down a road too far to stop now so he continued, thinking overcoming the hero’s moral code would be the easiest way forward now that he had stepped in it.
“Wouldn’t you like to take out some aggression….on the faggot slut before you?”
“Faggot slut….? I…er…”. Nightwing’s inner voices were fighting him now. His moral upbringing, the sexual repression at the hand of Batman, and all his crime fighter training meant that it was impossible for him to treat anyone with disrespect, but now he was beginning to cut loose from those rules of engagement.
“Yes, Nightwing…sexually. Wouldn’t you like to **dispense some justice**?” The Scarecrow added, with a surprising terseness in his voice. What he could not know was that it matched the condescending tone that Batman had used on so many occasions. This effort to move the hero along grabbed Nightwing’s attention and his head jerked up.
Something had snapped. He lowered it again to look at the Scarecrow, his hand coming down to his shoulder as he roughly pushed him to the floor and into the soup of chemicals building from floor level. Scarecrow took a deep breath through his nose. Eager to suck up the chemical bath rising from the floor. A concoction of different chemicals that would be required for the process to succeed.
There on his knees, at crotch height, the startled but pleased Scarecrow looked up at the towering pile of muscle before him. He licked his lips.
This set the crime fighter off even more. For years he’d been putting up with lude and lascivious comments and looks from the Scarecrow and now he had the opportunity to set him straight, so to speak. To **‘dispense some justice’**. The change in his demeanor was fast and extreme.
Nightwing lowered himself down in front of the Scarecrow, his knees wide and cock hanging low, swaying with each beat of his heart. Scarecrow swallowed hard. This was not part of the plan. At this lower height, Nightwing was breathing the wrong chemicals now. Nightwing grabbed Scarecrow by the head. His left hand holding the top and his right one around his neck and jaw. Years of pent-up frustration, irritation, and disgust at the Scarecrow was raging to get out. A tactical mistake had been made by his Nemesis and things were about to go in a new direction.
“You are nothing more than a criminal Scarecrow. And a fucking faggot at that. It’s time for justice to be served, do you hear me? Do you understand? I’m gonna teach you how to respect a real man. I’ve had enough of your fairy shit. You’re not dealing with a boy, anymore.”
Shocked at Nightwing’s language and a little frightened Scarecrow nodded his head in rapid agreement. What was going on?
Before he could think on it much harder Nightwing stuffed 3 fingers from his right hand into the Scarecrow’s mouth, the smell of leather now invading the Scarecrow's nose and mixing with the mild scent of the airborne drugs. He tried to pull off, to get free of the invading hand, but Nightwing was much stronger. Still squatting down, his face incredibly close as he stuffed another finger in Scarecrow’s mouth.
“Fucking queer. Gonna give you want you always wanted, do you understand? You’re gonna fucking suck my monster cock and you’re going to do a great job. I have all night and I will stay on top of you until you get it right. Do you understand faggot?”
Scarecrow nodded quickly and moaned as the hero forced his fingers deep into his oral cavity. He was concerned by the new direction everything seemed to be going in. He was sexually thrilled with how he was being treated but also horrified that his plan had derailed so badly. Nightwing pulled his fingers out and slapped him with his large, wet, leather-encased hand.
“You are just a fucking homo pussy.” he continued and spit a thick, wet lungie into the scarecrow’s open mouth. “Fucking faggot. I’m gonna take you downtown, but first I’m gonna take you down…hard. It’s time to dispense some justice.”
Scarecrow was now in a cold panic. He understood in an instant what had gone wrong. By adding that last comment to push Nightwing forward, dispense some justice, he’d tapped into the underlying programming of the whole law enforcement system….and Nightwing’s frustration with it. A system where police and heroes never got to actually solve the problems, just apprehend the criminals. Now Scarecrow had given Nightwing permission to go the whole distance…and he’d attached it to sexual domination.
His plan had always been to distract Nightwing by sucking his cock while the machine worked above, but he blundered at the last minute.
Nightwing had also squatted before the Scarecrow for several minutes, breathing the wrong gas. He had underestimated Nightwing’s rage, his frustration with Batman subjugating him, his discomfort with being the object of Scarecrow’s lust. What else had he miscalculated? Scarecrow’s process was a complicated ballet, and now that complicated equation was corrupted. He had to get it back on track.
Slowly Nightwing stood. His cock now at full mast and ready for action, he pushed Scarecrow’s head back and looked in his eyes. Scarecrow knew he had to act quickly. Another verbal cue could correct for his error, but he had no time to lose.
Now standing over the Scarecrow, Nightwing stopped momentarily, entranced as Scarecrow began to speak, to correct his hypnotic suggestion.
“Nightwing, you need to relafffpppp…gggnnnhhh….”
But it was too late. Maybe some part of Nightwing knew to shut Scarecrow up before he dropped another hypnotic suggestion, maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but before Scarecrow could finish, Nightwing broke eye contact and began stuffing him with his ample cock. The cock that Scarecrow had so longingly looked at just seconds before was now being used to gag him, as the tool was aggressively forced into his mouth.
“Shut the fuck up pussy boy….the only think I wanna hear out of you is moaning.” Nightwing barked.
Scarecrow moaned around the edges of the turgid cock forcing its way into his mouth. With any hope of a verbal solution dead, he needed a plan. Now on his knees and being manhandled beyond his expectation, Scarecrow groped around his lab coat pocket. If he could start the machine…maybe that would distract Nightwing…or subdue him. But Nightwing was manhandling him to such an extent that he was like a puppet, being pushed and pulled across the slick floor. Scrambling to stay upright, he found the remote in his loose lab coat pocket but then immediately fumbled it as he took it out. It toppled, bounced, and landed on the floor. With his head out of his control and his line of sight now jammed permanently forward he had no way to see the remote on the floor below. All he could see was a wall of solid muscle—sharp, hard, tanned abs shaved smooth, short pubs, and cum gutters.
At first, he choked and gagged, not ready for so much cock so fast, or the change of game. He looked up at the muscular hero dominating him so effectively, trying to collect his thoughts.
Nightwing looked down over his muscled chest, his right hand was still holding the back of Scarecrow’s head and he slowly…relentlessly…pulled the old man forward and onto his thick 11 inch cock.
“You fucking worthless piece of shit. I’m going to finally teach you a lesson about the long arm of the law….only I’m going to use a different appendage. You hear me faggot?” he said, using a word that repulsed him even as it gave him so much power over the slightly effeminate Scarecrow. Once the dam was broken, he continued in an explosion of subjugating disdain.
“Fucking criminal scum. You need to be taught a lesson in justice. Not just taken in…its time for you to serve. Or is this what you like? Do you like being treated like a whore?”
Nightwing aggressively pushed more of his cock into his nemesis’s mouth, reveling at the feeling of the hot wet hole before him. He loved this sensation and how it made his mind glitch and short. His cock, porpoising forward into the hot wet hole. Excited and unbridled, it took on a life of its own, flooding Nightwing’s brain with drug-amplified waves of pleasure. Slowly, he retracted and then re-entered the hot mouth again, repeating the process and further stimming himself, stroke after stroke. He shuddered as the smooth wet tunnel surrounded his oversized tool, enjoying the sensation from one end to the other.
Looking up, Scarecrow quickly nodded his head in agreement, his mouth now stretched tightly around the thick dong. Deeper and deeper the cock slid into Scarecrow’s throat and he tingled with excitement and horror as he felt the throat inside this pencil neck stretch a bit, welcoming the manhood of the hero before him. He reached down with his hands carefully, trying to find the remote on the floor.
The battle continued, two agendas competing for victory. The Scarecrow trying to find the remote and Nightwing stuffing the Scarecrow, not with hay, but with cock. Unsatisfied with just some of his long dick being pleasured, he continued his assault pushing deeper with every stroke, sliding further back and down the throat of the submissive criminal before him.
In the background, Scarecrow heard a faint click. The second gas emitter had closed. The two gasses, now held about a foot clear of each other, continued saturating each of the subjects in this diabolical lab experiment.
Scarecrow thought to himself, _The saturation levels in each of them should be enough in just a few more minutes. I need to get him stationary, in position, and find that remote._
With great concentration, Scarecrow continued working on the oversized truncheon as he stalled for a little more time and tried to reposition the masked crusader. Sucking and licking he worked his mouth and throat around and down onto the magnificent nob and cock he was self-impaled on. He felt every vein, every throb, every detail of the most perfect cock in the world as it used him, though not against his wishes.
But as a pathic subjugated faggot, he was once again being used to provide sexual relief for someone else. As he groped for the remote, he thought of how his own cock, not more than 2 inches long, was trapped in his pants. As usual, his hard and leaking member would receive no sexual relief from this torrid experience. If the plan failed, at least he was getting to suck the cock of Gotham City’s finest, but he would not get his nut. He could at least masturbate to that in prison if things went badly, but still, he had hope. If the plan succeeded he would have a lifetime of opportunities to change his experience.
Suddenly his fingers made contact with the remote. He grabbed it, put it back into his pocket, and collected his thoughts. His eyes darted back and forth to try and figure out his current location. As chance would have it they had moved back nearly to the starting position. He just needed to maneuver Nightwing back to the inclined wall, just a foot behind him. He looked left and right and came up with a suitable adjustment to the situation.
Timing his next push down on the massive cock with a deep forward thrust of his head, Scarecrow forced Nightwing’s cock to a new depth while also pushing the hero to the wall. This distraction worked perfectly and Nightwing saw nothing sinister in being repositioned back against the wall.
“Heh, got some fight in you yet, eh faggot? And took me…fuck…alll…the……way….” Nightwing groaned, feeling the wall behind him as the Scarecrow’s nose buried itself in his smooth crotch. He was more comfortable now, having something to lean against as he got blown, oblivious to what was to come.
Scarecrow pushed a button on the remote, and the paddles and the headset began to hum. Nightwing, lost in an intense power fuck, looked down to see the pathetic scum before him sliding up and down his beautiful cock, but he was oblivious to the machine starting up.
“You sick fuck,” he sneered, “gonna use you so hard,” as he stared into the eyes of the Scarecrow.
While initially disgusted at the haggard old man sucking his cock, the drugs and hypnotic suggestion, combined with the seedy old power station, awakened Nightwing’s inner dominant alpha. Scarecrow had succeded a little too well in this endeavor. Nightwing was on fire. At this moment, he’d have fucked anything, but now the idea of fucking this tired old bag of bones, this evil scientist, became more and more appealing. He wasn’t just fucking his face, he was dispensing justice and that made all the difference to the crime fighters skull fucking.
“Fuck yeah, suck that cock you sick cunt. I always knew you were a poof and now I guess you’re finally proving how pathetic you really are. I saw how you’ve been looking at me all these years, scoping out my jacked form, watching my full basket, my muscled ass, the perverted looks, and sly smiles…but damn, I never thought you’d be on my hog. Worthless piece of human scum. Fuck though, you suck good old man…not a lot of women can’t take my oversized junk, but you’re doing a fine job. Almost skull fucking a skull here…ugh…yeah….fuck…Gonna let you tap me good, so suck my hero cock deep you fucking pansy bitch.” Nightwing said in a never-ending physical and verbal assault. As his other hand came down to the Scarecrow’s head, allowing him to push and pull faster and harder, he jammed his oversized dong deeper into the tight throat of the old man as he slumped back against the inclined wall, his head between the humming paddles. He had begun to power-rut.
At this moment, Scarecrow reached back into his pocket and pushed another button. A panel opened above Nightwing’s head and out folded series of arms and devices. Each one contained a component of the Trans-Mind-Molder Beam device. It consisted of an energy beam array that looked like a large electronic cannon pointing down at the hero’s head and shoulders and a series of spinning magnetic rings that would help focus its power. The rows of magnets began slowly counter-rotating in a quiet circle just above Nightwing’s head.
Had Nightwing had the wherewithal to look up he would have seen the device and realized he could be in danger but he was so preoccupied with his own sexual needs, and dispensing justice, that he never took his eyes from the muscled chest and arms leading to the Scarecrow’s hot mouth and throat. Harder and harder he fucked, further teaching the pathetic criminal about justice.
With no visual cue of the danger he was in, and as the drugs reached greater and greater concentrations, the former boy wonder’s drug-addled brain dissociated with the reality of the situation. To him, there was no sense of danger. As his slippery cock slid deeper and faster into the mouth and throat before him he began to transition to a serious rutt. Like a dog with a bone, he began pistoning in and out, faster and faster while continuing his diatribe.
“You fucking pathetic cock slut. Gonna give you what you want…My hero seed…hard and deep…ugh….yeah…. I’m gonna give you ALL I GOT!!! You hear me? Gonna give you…EVERYTHING!!!” he grunted deeply, his breathing now fast and labored, not realizing the foreshadowing of the statement. His hips pounded forward and back, expertly skull fucking his enemy like so many women before, while he continued to inhale the drugs that were now so rocking his world.
After just a few minutes more, he groaned and shuddered. His oversized and overfilled balls began to pull up toward his body as they readied a thick load of hero spunk for the man so expertly working his cock. Nightwing leaned forward, his ass still planted against the wall but his torso canted forward and his head tilted down. He approached the moment of no return with no sense of danger…only blind lust.
Sensing the arrival of his finest moment, the Scarecrow pushed a button on the remote in his pocket. A bright red focusing laser broke from above. Scarecrow, looking up, marveled at how the light fell across the body of Nightwing, throwing each muscle into sharp relief as he sucked as hard as he could. Above he watched as the device centered itself and focused its aim.
“Fuck, yeah, you fucking criminal whore take my hero cum…take me DEEEEEEEEEP…..UGHHHHHHHhhhh…” Nightwing grunted deeply, his body shuddered as Scarecrow savored the first volley of his thick hero batter.
And so, all the pieces fell into place, the cocktail of drugs and the disassociated sexual excitement they provided, the sexual focus and the situational awareness that they clouded, the brainwaves created by sexual release, the intense physical exertion and resulting redistribution of blood flow, the lack of any perception of danger and the guardedness it would create, the magnetically focused beam of the Trans-Consious Molder Beam…all of it together in perfect sync. Seconds later, a high-pitched whine tore through the room and a powerful beam broke from the device above as Nightwing, unable to control himself, began unloading a massive load of jizz into his nemesis.
With a bang, the machine fired. Nightwing shuddered as he felt like he’d been hit in the back of the head and shoulders by a 2x4, knocking the wind out of him and sending a burning tingle down his spine. He grunted, “Unghhhhh….What the….oh……” Nightwing slumped slightly down, his mind going momentarily blank while his cock moved deeper into the criminal mastermind below him. “…happening…….what am I….caught in????” A smile came to the Scarecrow’s eyes.
Nightwing struggled for consciousness for a moment but pulled it back as the machine above spun frantically and the powerful beam shot out into the hero’s head and shoulders. As it did, powerful magnetic waves went to work, splitting his consciousness apart. His visual cortex at the back of his skull was the first to be affected, distorting his sense of space and time. As the waves passed they expressed themselves through a series of bizarre hallucinations which began with fog, shimmering waves, and strange lights. He knew something was wrong, but in his current state, could not figure out what.
As he looked down at the Scarecrow, his cock buried to its full length, he suddenly felt weak, lightheaded and unstable. His muscular frame felt leaden and sluggish like he was pushing through water or maybe, molasses. Suddenly, he noticed his biceps begin to quiver. He stared, trying to understand what was happening when they began to collapse….to implode…to shrink. His mind became confused as he tried to focus on what was happening, to make sense of it. His cock still buried to the hilt as he suddenly became distracted. Then he noticed his slablike chest, thick and striated, which he had been looking down and over to see the Scarecrow impaled on his thick tool, began to also deflate…he panicked, unable to grasp what was going on.
“What…what’s happening….muscles…getting…smaller?” The hero grunted as he shuddered and swayed.
His body, buzzing with thrill as he had never felt before began to feel compressed, adding to the sexual thrill. The pressure coming from every side seemed somehow sexual. It distracted him from this new development and prevented him from seeing the danger. Confused and shooting the load of a lifetime, he made the mistake of holding the head before him down hard, letting the Scarecrow continue to suckle, keeping him stuck in this overwhelming orgasm and holding his brain open in a way that he could not understand. Suddeenly, he felt something happening, something else changing.
Scarecrow, after wallowing in the chemical bath was now fully saturated in his own cocktail, one of the primary effects being that his blood was now supercharged with oxygen. As he sucked Nightwing off he didn’t need to come up for air and could instead apply all his energy to draining the crime fighter of his jizz.
“What is…happening? Getting smaller….getting weaker…shrinking…” Nightwing queried aloud in his deep masculine voice. His brain tried desperately to determine what was happening while his oversized genitalia basked in the pleasure of an intensity they had never felt. It was as though there were now two Nightwings, each focused on something different. As though he was splitting.
“Wait, no….Oh fuck………….no…its……..…YOU…” he grunted….panting and light-headed, his chemical soup opposite of Scarecrows had depleted his oxygen levels. He found his breathing ragged and labored as he tried to get more air and more oxygen, but the drug bath only reduced his O2 levels further while increasing the concentration of chemicals in his bloodstream and their effects on his brain and body.
“He’s…somehow…draining me…” the crusader finally realized, but by now he was too weak to stop the Scarecrow. And there seemed to be no way to detach him from the oversize cock he was still draining. He reached for his utility belt…surely there was something there could use.
“Unghhhh….no…belt……….missing…how………ohhhhhhh…….…must stop him……….must get…..control……..I need to stop…….” his voice cracked, “…need to stop cumming….but…oh god…….…I…no…control….” his body quivering, being more and more aggressively drained, provided little strength or coordination.
“I can’t…..…can’t stop shooting…” he squealed. “Have to try……must stop……..still cumming…so hard…how? Ohhhhh….no I’m…losing this….this fight…need to stop my cock from firing off all my seed…” the weakened and confused hero groaned, his voice now rising in pitch and panic as he spoke.
Down below, the Scarecrow just grinned as he continued milking the weakened hero of his ejaculant. At the base of his thick member, Nightwing's large full balls were rapidly being depleted, exhausting their contents.
But the drugs and machine had kicked the hero’s libido and metabolism into high gear. His testicles shuddered and then surged to produce even more cum that his cock also began shooting. Like good money after bad, his cock and balls were stuck in a loop of depravity, pumping out everything they could produce as quickly as possible. Nightwing could feel the intense orgasm, he could feel his balls in overdrive, he could feel himself being drained, he could feel it all, except the effects the machine was having on his brain.
His balls were burning and he was losing his sense of authority and control over his body and the situation. The inner conflict of pleasure and horror bringing Nightwing to a mental orgasm of Super Hero intensity. Inside his brain, the drugs deposited by the Scarecrow’s toxic gas cocktail now began interacting with a sudden surge of hormones that Nightwings own body began to produce, bathing the hero’s brain in still more reality-destabilizing chemicals.
He felt the shrinking continue. His powerful glutes, massive quads, and pronounced calves began to collapse also, becoming both smaller and weaker as the machine continued to pulse and whine, its pitch also going up as it also strained. The Trans-Mind-Molder Beam, shone down over his body, its magnets spinning faster and faster.
Suddenly, Nightwing noticed how his height seemed to recede, first slowly but then more quickly. It was only then that he realized even his formerly large and turgid endowment was also becoming smaller, shrinking, and crumpling. It held temporarily with each load of ejaculant as it shot from his body and into the Scarecrow, but then it continued again shrinking down, and then again, and again….repeating over and over with each ejaculatory pulse. His once massive 9-and-a-half-inch cock, his pride and joy, was now a shadow of its former self.
The throbbing vibration of the machine and mouth only stimulated him further as he realized the mouth around it seemed to get bigger. “Must..oh no…must…stop this…insanity…how is this possible…my body….my cock…my beautiful cock…” Nightwing groaned as the theft of his body continued. The intensity of the orgasm was greater than he’d ever experienced, and as his penis shrank the amount of ejaculate grew proportionately despite his frying balls, spraying out what seemed like a never-ending river of cum.
Above, the machine was now working at an even more furious pitch, the magnetic guides now oscillating at a frenzied pace and the beam becoming more intense. But Nightwing was oblivious, believing the perverted villain below was somehow sucking him of everything he was.
Nightwing suddenly became aware of how much lower he was on the wall…as if he were on his knees now. He was not falling, but moving slowly down also, pulsing and shuddering with each continued eruption of cum, his mind reeling. But he was oblivious to the paddles on either side of his head, which humming more and more loudly.
Were he able to pay attention he would have noticed that the Scarecrow’s headset was also humming violently as he shot deep and hard. His muscular form shrinking, buckling, and crumpling, his glorious muscles deflating, and his handsome visage becoming loose and haggard. He was being robbed of his greatest assets—his virility, his youth, this masculinity, his body, his jewels….all of it. He even felt his head and mind shrinking as load after load of his cum exploded from his body. He groaned again as he realized his fate.
“Almost empty…almost out of…must…stop….before its…too late….before he takes…it all…before I’m…noth…oh god…OHHH GOOODDDDD……HE’S TAKING IT….ALLLLLLL……” he whimpered in a shrieking womanly voice and then with a humiliatingly emasculated cry, it was over. His muscled body was gone, reduced to a pile of bony flesh. His cock reduced until it was just a Micro penis…a stunted, pathetic cock framed by raisin-like balls.
Scarecrow grinned as he continued his expert manipulation of Nightwing’s cock. He knew that the machine was really doing most of the work and the cock draining was just a distraction to keep Nightwing from putting it all together and to keep his brain in a quantum state. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t savoring every minute of it of his time gourging on the hero’s cock. He knew the Trans-Mind-Molder Beam would create a distortion to reality that would fit Nightwings experience in the world, as what was happening now nobody had ever experienced.
Suddenly, Nightwing jolted fully awake. _What…going on…what…choaking…what is in my mouth…my throat?, a panicked Nightwing thought. Why am I down on the floor….what happened?_ He was on his knees with a long thick tube stuck in his throat…he couldn’t breathe…or see… something was on his face…a mask…and in front of that, a wall of solid muscle—sharp, hard, tanned abs shaved smooth, short pubes, and cum gutters. He shuddered one last time as he was unceremoniously pushed back and free of the hose inside. His weakened body collapsed on the floor in a pile of spent flesh, panting hard. “What happen…ing…” he moaned feebly.
“Relax my boy, you’ll feel better in a moment,” a familiar voice said. Not much better, but better just the same.”
Nightwing pulled himself together. He was weak, aching everywhere, he pushed the mask from his face and looked up at the muscular man standing over him. He was shocked to see….HIMSELF…standing tall above, leaning forward and looking intently at the lump of a man on the floor.
“What…happened?” he moaned.
“Well, I guess I can tell you now. I’ve learned that blathering before I take you heroes out is a big mistake, but I don’t see why I should not tell you now. You see, I knew you and your compatriots had found ways around my fear tactics…so I flipped the script, and went in a new direction.” Scarecrow began monologuing. “Not fear but lust…and horniness…and desire to the point of distraction. They ultimately did you in…that and my Trans-Mind-Molder Beam.”
Scarecrow gestured to the machine above now spinning down slowly, lights flickering above and over the hero’s former head. “Through my research, I determined that strong Alpha men like yourself can dissociate during intense sexual encounters. My device simply took advantage of you in that state.”
Nightwing blinked up at the Scarecrow standing tall in Nightwing’s own body and costume. ”Silly boy, you still don’t see. I’ve transferred my consciousness into your body and your consciousness into mine. I think I got the better deal, though. I now have the use of your young muscular body, while you have the use of my old broken down one. Quite a trick, wouldn’t you say?”
“No, this… it's not…possible.”
“Oh, I assure you it is.”
“Wait, nooooo….Batman……..” Nightwing mumbled aloud.
“Batman is not here, remember? He’s not coming. I must say it was good of you to confirm that right out of the gate. As I said before, it was a rookie mistake but it gave me…hmmm….opportunity.” said the muscled form standing tall in front of the inlined wall. “And honestly, he was never my plan tonight. My plan was you. Always you. But relax…I promise you have been of great use to me.”
“No, stop…I….my…body…”
“Yes, it is nice. And now it’s mine. I can assure you of that. Now, let me help you,” said Scarecrow as he grabbed Nightwing by the collar and jerked him up on his feet. Marching across the room, he guided the unstable hero to the padded bench in the corner that Nightwing had noticed in his original survey of the room.
The bench was higher in the middle with two ledges on either side. Scarecrow positioned Nightwing at the end of the bench and, while still standing, removed his flimsy pants. Kicking Nightwing’s feet part and the pants across the floor.
“I’m nothing if not prepared, my boy. Now, get up,” he said snidely, pushing the hero forward like a puppet and onto the bench, his chest and abs supported on the raised middle while his forearms and shins rested on the lower side shelves.
“What…wait…what do you think you’re….”
Scarecrow slapped Nightwing hard across the ass making him yelp.
“I’m going to do what I want…I’m going to do what I planned.” said the Scarecrow as he strapped the former hero down. With one belt around his waist, and one around each arm and leg, Nightwing was forced into an obscene position with his knees forward and his ass back, his tiny cock and balls hanging down in a cut-out area at the end of the bench.
“No, wait, you can’t…do this…I….” Nightwing pulled at the restraints but now in the feeble former body of the Scarecrow, he lacked the strength to even pull very hard. But more than that, he felt funny. He felt aroused at this new subjugation. What was going on? Behind him, he felt something slide around his cock at balls. Some sort of ring…it was very sug and cold. To that he then felt some other device being snapped over his small cock…effectively squashing it into nothing.
“Ouch…what…the….that’s….” he started but then was alarmed when he didn’t seem to mind. Not only did he not seem to mind, he seemed excited about it. What the fuck is going on? Why am I so turned on?
“Relax my boy. Just something to keep you in the proper state of mind.” Scarecrow smirked. He knew that transferring one consciousness to another body would have certain side effects. For Nightwing, they would be especially powerful. Nightwing was straight, and Scarecrow was gay, but putting a straight man’s consciousness into a gay man’s brain creates distortion in the straight man’s proclivities. His new situation meant that he would now be much more open to not just gay sex, but all the perversions and fetishes of the Scarecrow.
As the lock engaged Nightwing felt a strange new arousal but one that his strong and repressed mind was able to tamp down with little effort.
“You’ll never get away with this Scarecrow?” Nightwing grunted.
“Scarecrow? Who are you talking to my boy? You seem to have forgotten, you’re the Scarecrow now. Hahahahahaaaaaa….”
“No, it’s…fuck…I am not…I am me…I am Nightwing.”
“Are you? Let’s see.” Scarecrow said as he began running his newly acquired thick and manly fingers around the ass of the old man. “Not a bad hole at all.” He quipped. “I wonder if some of your physical attributes could have been transferred along with your mind.
The Scarecrow had long been into some very rough sex and was always on the receiving end. His henchmen had been more than happy to treat their boss like trash during specific intervals and endeavors. Now a new hybrid ass seemed to be born and the former boy wonder was finding himself on the receiving end of his first fingering.
“Quite taught…but with descent give…still…”. Scarecrow continued as he gently fingered the hero.
“God…fuck….no…I….ughhhhh….its….oh fuck…I don’t….do…..
ohhhhhh….” Nightwing shuddered as new feelings of arousal surged over his new old body and new old mind.
“Yes….. that's right…arousing, isn’t it? You want it and don’t want it at the same time… it's probably very confusing.” Scarecrow prattled along, as he pushed more and more of his finger into Nightwing’s new old hole. Then he added a second one.
“Oh….pppp….ppplease….I….” the hero shuddered. His mind fighting the feelings of arousal and debauchery. He looked back over his shoulder to see his muscled body standing tall, muscular, virile, a sly smirk coming to his face behind the dark blue mask. He was confused at how excited he was by his own form standing behind him and using him.
“Oh…fuck…I’m….I’m..”
“Yes, say it!”
“I’m getting fingered…by…myself? My own thick fingers…in my hole. Ohh…”
“That’s right. It’s a mind fuck on many levels, isn’t it.” Scarecrow now pushing his new fingers all the way into the hole before him and flicking the prostate inside.
“OHHH…GGGG…GOD….YES….” The hero moaned with his new haggard voice.
“That did it…didn’t it. Yes, you’re going to like this even more.” Scarecrow said as he lubed and stroked the still-wet cock hanging from his open costume.
“Here you go…take a gander at this.” He continued…stepping to the side and showing the hero his own cock.
“Nice, isn’t it? I know you miss it, so before I go, I’m going to give you a taste of what so many women have enjoyed….and so many men have longed for.
Scarecrow stepped back behind Nightwing and began loading him up. Nightwing was approaching the limit of his endurance and insanity was fast approaching. Looking back over his shoulder again he could feel the tip of his former cock being loaded up into his new hole.
“Oh, oh god….ur….oh fuck…no, it’s too big.” he protested, but to his chagrin, the cock just slid in, with little resistance. His mind reeled at the feeling of his hole spasming around the invading cock…and the thought of how easily he was taking it. The beautiful rod he had once been so proud of was now fuckin his own chute.
“Ppp…Pplease…just…oh….oh…how are you still…you…you’re still entering?
“Yes, I’m afraid I have several inches to go. How are you feeling?”
“Ohhhhh…not right…getting…fucked….with my…own….ughhhh…cock.” Nightwing groaned.
“That’s right….keep taking it. You really are a boy wonder, aren’t you, Nightwing? And I guess as Batman sees it you really aren’t a man at all, still a boy, the way he doesn’t trust you. That must have been difficult all these years. Even after you flew the coop, so to speak. But now here you are, just a boy. That’s all he ever trained you to be, right? Well really not even that…you’re now just a hole. Or two to be specific. It might be best to think of the one I’m loading up now as a cunt. Yes, a cunt. And your little locked-up clit below. It will get no attention at all until it shrivels away. From now on, any sexual satisfaction will have to come through your cunt alone….or your mouth.” Scarecrow continued.
Below, Nightwings mind began to fracture. Located in the old man’s body and with its deviant brain structure, his inner sense of self was beginning to collapse under the weight of the new desires he possessed, the new body he lived in, and the circumstances of his new reality. The inner conflict was too much for him to withstand.
“Yes…I’m…oh…not a man….not Nightwing…not Robin….I’m a hole…” the hero mumbled, but then in a moment of glitchy instability he switched back to fully understand what was happening. “You… you’re…you’re twisting my mind….you’re…oh what are you doing? I’m…being…ohhhhh…you’re….cunting me. You’re cunting me…cunting my hole out…and using me…like…a…woman,” he whined as his mind cracked further, revealing his inner misogyny and the fragile nature of his masculinity. “Making me…a bitch…your bitch…?” He half admitted.
“That’s right…my boy, very well done. Batman didn’t give you credit, but I do. I see how smart you are. I see your strength, your independence. Had I been your ward you’d have had a very different upbringing,” Scarecrow snickered. “I must say, your mental awakening was much easier than I thought it would be.”
“Batman…fuck….him….” He spontaneously said, in a revelation that surprised the Scarecrow. “He’s just an overbearing asshole….thinks he know’s better all the time….thinks he’s invincible….and that little fuck Robin. He’s…the real…fag….but I’m the only one….that knows….”, he panted.
Scarecrow perked up at this revelation. Searching his own mind he could feel the remnants of Nightwing. Probing deeper he felt an echo of a night long ago…when Robin, under the influence of some other criminal plot had made a move on Nightwing. It had sickened him, and Robin had chalked the whole experience up to the situation, but deep down he knew that it had just allowed a small truth to escape the carefully crafted veneer of a burgeoning superhero.
_So Batman’s new sidekick is really just another run-of-the-mill gay boy looking for a daddy. Wonder what you’re covering up, Robin. This is something I can definitely use in my plan… the Boy Wonder is a flowering homosexual….just beautiful. This will only make their takedown sweeter. And of course, your disgust means that you yourself are tangled in some homoerotic feelings, Nightwing. Scarecrow thought to himself._ Emboldened by this new revelation he began fucking Nightwing even harder, slamming his newly acquired rock-hard cock into Nightwing, stretching his asslips wide, and sawing over his sensitive prostate.
Nightwing, in his new bottom role, was disgusted with himself for the situation at hand. The way he was being treated violated everything he knew about being a hero and a man. And yet with each domineering word that his nemesis spoke and the surrender that flooded up, he experienced a surge of sexual heat and excitement that overwhelmed him. His previous life experience and reality were no match the new reality of his experience, his new brain, and his new desires.
The desperate unfamiliar urges to do whatever this man asked conflicted with a lifetime of sexual control and repression at the hands of Batman. His training to behave in a morrally superior way was conflicting with his new desires and that conflict was creating an even greater energy. Like matter and anti-matter, the explosion of power was more than the former hero’s consciousness could withstand.
Unconsciously, he raised his muscle cheeks upward and spread his legs slightly. His caged cock aimed down in the cutout of the bench but restricted from use. He was effectively neutered….UNMANNED. His old mind knew that exposing his ass in such sexual a way was in conflict with a hero’s creed and the shame that came from it was mentally buggering some remaining kink center in his new brain.
“Oh, yessss…..” he gasped in humiliation, turning his head down into the leather bench in a pathetic attempt to hide. His ass and caged manhood on full display.
“That’s a good boy,” Scarecrow chuckled. He pulled out, slapped the hero’s new willing ass a few times, and slammed back in, pounding the now greedy hole with hard, intense strokes.
Nightwing continued to moan softly, mumbling his arousal at the pounding he was receiving. Scarecrow used his new meaty palms to slap the ass below him, taking great pleasure in being in the driver’s seat for once. In the same way that Nightwing’s consciousness was being influenced by the new brain it lived in, so too did Scarecrow revel at his newfound desire to dominate.
The effects of this new attention on Nightwing’s ass were electric to his mind. The humiliation, layered on top of all the kinks of the former owner and combined with the authoritative verbal domination, took control of him and crushed his mind’s resistance into a new and overwhelming sexual experience. All of it combined to produce a tsunami of excitement, as his brain spasmed from the simultaneous ass and mind fuck he was receiving.
“Oh…oh god…so deep….you…you’re….ohhhhhhhh…..getting railed…by….me…by Nightwing…oh…yes…I’m….fuck…fuck me….oh more please….yes….drill me out hard….deep….”
That’s right. And if you’re getting fucked by Nightwing, who must you be now?”
“I…I’m….No…I…”
“Easy…..focus. I’m Nightwing and the former Boy Wonder, Robin. So….who are you now? What is your name?”
“I’m…the Scarecrow? The…faggot…slut…getting fucked…by Nightwing….oh….oh fuck….I feel funny…I’m facing justice…I’m a faggot slut…an evil nemesis…but I’m getting served….”
Scarecrow smiled at the sudden lunge forward in Nightwing’s mental conditioning. He had just been taunting Scarecrow with this same endless stream of pejorative terms and now they were so close and fresh they landed in his own mind, his own consciousness.
Now sitting inside Scarecrow’s brain, he was ready to accept them all. The intense pegging of the former hero’s prostate was entwining all this information, weaving it into a new reality. The old brain of the master criminal and raging homosexual, plus the subtle reprogramming and torrid fuck, was crushing Nightwings consciousness and the conversion was nearly complete.
“Oh…yes…please…fuck me harder…fuck me with that…that….huge cock…punish me for….breaking the….law….mark your…territory….breed me….deep….NNN…NNN…Nightwing….Oohhhhh…..”
“Fuck, yeah….take it faggot, take my hero cum….ugh….fuck….yeah….” Scarecrow bellowed as he unloaded a torrent of cum into the hole below him. For his part, Nightwing was now so in over his head and so overstimulated that he could do nothing but shoot his own load through his tiny caged cock.
“Cumming in me…oh…oh fuck…I am…I am….Scarecrow. I am cumming.” He squealed as he shot his pathetic load through the tight cage, the cum dribbling down onto the floor. His mind now completely rewired and….fried.
Nightwing was broken.
He lay on the bench, still impaled and dazed.
“That’s right slut…and with that admission, and my seed, you’re now my property. As my property, I’m going to use you any time I see fit. Is that understood?”
There was no response. The lump of a man stared into space.
“Too much for your little mind. I guess you really were no match for me.” Scarecrow untied the former hero and dragged his broken old body to a small cage in the corner of the lab.
“Here you go…your new home. Just another one of my lab experiments. A successful one though, so I’m giving you a cage with a mattress. I hope it’s comfortable.”
The broken hero climbed into the cage dejectedly. He watched as New Nightwing locked the door, stood, and walked out of the lab.