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Old 04-Jul-21, 15:14
curioussparky curioussparky is offline
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Default Dick Grayson: Bird-Brained

Dick Grayson: Bird-Brained.

Note: this is Part 4 of a series I am now calling “Gotham Squeeze”, which began with Part 1: Selina Kyle and the Venus Thigh-Trap, and continued with Part 2: Barbara Gorden: the Lab-Bat and Part 3: The Quintessensual Subjugation of One Dr Harleen (Or the Art of Never Giving Up). I will look at getting them consolidated into one thread, but they can be read as standalones. In the meantime, enjoy.

***
“Dick!” Yelled Bruce Wayne in anguish. “What have you done???”

The aging vigilante could barely contain his rage, or his pride in his young protege. Dick must have known that his mentor would never sanction this, stealing a Batsuit and going off to face Dr Pamela Isley alone, without backup. Bruce had already sent his one time lover / enemy Selina Kyle and his medical contact Dr Harleen Quinzel to face the pharmaceutical entrepreneur; the former had ended up in the hospital, the latter dead. Barbara Gorden - his other protege - had also disappeared.

His reverie was interrupted by an alarm echoing round the batcave. That was the doorbell to Wayne Manor!

Commissioner Gorden and Bruce looked at each other and said “Dick??” at the same time, whilst Alfred - Bruce’s trusted Butler, left through a side passageway to enter the manor proper and answer the door. A moment later he reappeared.

“Is it Dick?” Growled the Bat. “If so, I’m going to kick his….”

“It’s not Master Grayson.” Intoned the butler, stepping aside. “It’s Barbara Gorden!”

Bruce watched with something close to delight as his friend the Commissioner's face flooded with relief, then fell as they both looked at Barbara for the first time in several weeks. The former trainee Batgirl was walking with a marked limp, and was wearing a lab coat and slacks marked “Property of Ivy Pharmaceuticals”. She looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks, and burst into tears as she hobbled into the Batcave and into the arms of the Commissioner.

“Oh, Daddy, I’m sorry, so sorry! I tried to resist her….I did, but she broke my legs! Then she promised to fix them if I became her...became her….Lab-Bat!” she wailed.

“Shush, it's ok honey, you’re here now…” said the Commissioner, stroking his daughter's brunette hair. Bruce looked away; he’d never been comfortable with public displays of parental love, not since his childhood.

“I tried to be a good Lab-Bat for her…” Continued the wailing Barbara. “I took my venom everyday, so that my legs would repair...but she’s crazy, Dad! She acts like she’s this great entrepreneur environmentalist, but when she had Harleen between her thighs….she just broke her neck like it was nothing! And she dumped all that Pherattract into the Gotham river...That’s when I made my decision, as soon as my legs were strong enough, I ran away.”

“But it’s so dangerous!” interjected Bruce. “The city is rioting! With so many lust crazed men now running amok because of the Pheratract in the water supply…”

“I know.” Sobbed Barbara. “But I managed to steal Dr Harleen’s Vaydor, which she left outside the docks. I made it back. I thought I’d never see you again, Bruce. Or you, Daddy. Or you, Alfred. Or Dick....where’s Dick?”

Bruce turned away again. He’d let the Commissioner break the bad news.

“Dick went missing an hour or so ago. He took the Batpod and a Batsuit. We think he went to try and rescue you on his own.”

“No!” Squeaked Barbara. “How will he do that? As soon as he gets near Pamela he’ll be overcome by the pheromones, and submit to her…”

“He took something with him. '' Grumbled Bruce, re-entering the conversation. “Something we’d been working on at Wayne Enterprises R&D: a pheromone-shielding mask. It’s just a prototype, though.”

“Can we not track him??”

“No, he disabled the transponder on the Batpod. If we could…”

“Master Wayne?” They all turned to Alfred, who was staring at a tablet he was holding in his hand. Bruce always thought it looked incongruous when the butler was using the internet, like two different eras colliding.

“What is it, Alfred?”

“I think you’re going to want to see this. It was picked up by Wayne Cybersecurity, scanning the darkweb. I asked them to do a search for master Grayson…”

“Put it on the projector!”

Alfred fumbled with the device for a moment, before Barbara stepped forward and helped him. Not quite mastered the digital age though Bruce, uncharitably. With the waterfall off to prevent contamination from the Pherattract attack, Barbara was able to get the image from the tablet to project directly onto the cave wall.

The image was a live video-feed. It showed what appeared to be a fighting cage, set up in a huge disused sewer. A braying mob of lust-crazed punters were surrounding it, cheering. The camera zoomed into the cage, where a ringmaster stood in the center, a huge figure in a referee's garb and a grotesque mask of tubes on his face.

“The Gotham Underground Deathfight Club.” Whispered Commissioner Gorden. “That’s Bane, the club’s ringleader- real name unknown. We’ve been trying to track it down for years, with no success. They set the cage up around the sewers, moving constantly. They make money from the fights by taking bets on the Dark Web…”

“People of Gotham!” Said Bane, his low voice very distorted from both his strange mask and the batcave’s speakers. “What strange times we live in! There’s something in the water….and sadly I cannot smell it, due to my disability!” He touched his mask. “But we have a VERY special fight for you this evening, and perhaps as befits these lustful times, a mixed fight! So without any further ado, let me introduce our competitors! As you know, our fighters never use their “real” names, and choose an alias for the deathfights. Our first challenger tonight is Mother Earth personified, may I introduce…..POISON IVY!”

The camera panned to one corner of the cage, and there she was. Dr Pamela Isley was wearing the snakeskin catsuit a half-conscious Selina had described, with a leaf and orchid bra and underwear over the top. She was crouched in the corner like a panther, and her eyes were pure white, her facial skin and bare feet green, her hair vivid red. She looked half-crazed, thought Bruce, not the in-control entrepreneur they all knew from the adverts. The lust driven crowd were going livid, practically licking the bars near to her in worshipful reverence.

“POISON IVY had put out a call for any challenger tonight so she could demonstrate something…” Continued Bane. “And someone answered! May I introduce a challenger, who claims to be an acrobat and martial artist, but goes by a slightly strange pseudonym….ROBIN!”

“NO!” Yelped Bruce, Alfred, and the two Gordons as the camera panned to the other corner. Dick Grayson’s face was covered by the strange, bird-beak shaped pheromone shielding mask, but they could all tell it was him. He was clad in his own custom fitted dark red graphene-Kevlar batsuit, which showed off his six pack and stopped short halfway down his muscular thighs. He looked damn impressive, though Bruce. Barbara was besides herself though.

“Oh God, no! We have to stop this! Where are they, Dad?”


“I have no idea.” Said the Commissioner, grimly. “We may just have to let this play out....”

Bruce tried to be reassuring. “If it’s a fair fight, Dick should walk this. Yes Pamela has her Venus Thigh-Trap or whatever she calls it, but Dick is a trained martial artist and former circus gymnast. He’s also wearing a Batsuit.”

“That won't do him any good…” Barbara tailed off as Bane was speaking again.

“The times may be different, but the rules are the same. The opponents fight until one is dead. The victor can take their time with their victim, make them beg, whatever they want. At this stage, we ask the challengers if there’s anything they wish to say to each other. POISON: any - possibly last - words?”

Pamela smirked and winked for the camera. “I’ll save my words for the end of the fight. Let’s just say I’m here to deliver a message….”

The crowd whooped at this enigmatic utterance as the camera panned to Dick. “And you, ROBIN? Any - mayhaps final - things to say to our lovely lady in green?”

“Only this!” Declared Dick, sounding like a boy scout saying the pledge of allegiance. “Your reign of deception and mischief ends tonight…. “IVY”! You’ve going to tell me where she is… then I’m going to be your judge, jury and executioner!”

Bruce’s heart swelled with pride as the two fighters started to circle like fighting tigers in the cage. He had adopted the young Dick Grayson when he was just an orphan. Dick was being coerced to work in a travelling circus as part of a modern slavery ring. Because of this, Dick was incredibly acrobatic, and had easily taken to karate, jiu-jitsu, Mauy-Thai and numerous other martial arts that Bruce had schooled him in. And he was wearing the pheromone-shielding beak mask, and a graphene-Kevlar batsuit....as long as he kept that on, Bruce was confident he could kick Pamela’s ass and succeed where the three women had failed.

“Don’t worry.” He grunted reassuringly to Barbara, who was sobbing into the Commissioner’s shoulder. “He’s got this…”

The buzzer rang, barely audible above the roar of the crowd coming through the Batcave’s speakers. The fight began.

Pamela - or Poison Ivy as she was calling herself now - made the first move. It was almost laughably telegraphed. A roundhouse kick, which served to show off her admittedly stellar leg clad in its snakeskin material, but little else. Not only did Dick - or Robin to give his cage fighting moniker (a ridiculous name, thought Bruce privately) see the kick coming but he evaded it by leaping into the air and performing a backwards somersault which actually caused the crowd to go silent. When Pamela lunged in again, this time with a side kick, he vaulted clear over her and booted her in the back with a kick of his own which sent the entrepreneur stumbling.

“YEAH!” Yelled Barbara. “Kick her ass, Dick!” Meanwhile in the ring, the mics could pick up Robin’s taunting.

“Oh dear, Pamela. It’s pretty obvious you have no real fighting skills beyond your Venus Thigh-Trap.” Scrambling back to her feet to face him, Pamela’s eyes were wide with shock as he unnamed her.

“Yeah, that’s right, I know what you did.” Continued Dick. “To Selena Kyle, for instance! You crushed her, in cold blood!”

“Not true!” Shouted Pamela, who was breathing hard opposite. “She broke into my…” but Dick was already in motion, leaping forward for what looked like a front kick. When Pamela went to dive out the way, Dick switched to a circus cartwheel, planting one hand on the ground and swinging his legs out wide. Pamela ended up taking two feet to the chin and went staggering to the ground.

“Quiet!” Yelled Dick, as Pamela sat on her knees, rubbing a hand to her lip which came away pink. “As I was saying, you also captured Barbara, the love of my life, and now you’re going to tell me where she is….” Bruce watched keenly as his protege strutted in front of the downed doctor.

“Now I’m not…..” started Pamela, but Dick suddenly backflipped, and the tops of his boots hit her chin. A cloud of sweat and blood arched through the air as Pamela was planted on her back.

“YES! That’s it baby, punish her!” Yelled Barbara in the batcave. On the screen, Dick circled behind a panting Pamela who was trying to crawl away on the floor.

“I said be quiet. Now, as I was saying OOOoooooooooooofff!” Dick staggered back as the prone Pamela suddenly performed a brutal mule kick and caught Dick mid-monologue. Barbara, Bruce and the Commissioner all gasped as Dick dropped to his knees clutching his abs, even as the crowd in the cage arena roared back to life.

“It’s ok…” said Bruce, more to himself than anything. “That’s kevlar-Graphene, he’s faking it….” On the screen, Pamela stood up, blood running down her chin, red hair all over the place. She looked deranged. She walked in front of the kneeling Dick Grayson and cocked her leg back.

“Nice try, bird-brain...!” she started, but Dick suddenly sprang into a handstand, another circus trick, and grabbed the entrepreneur’s neck between his strong calves. Barbara whooped for joy as Pamela’s hands grabbed at the clasping limbs around her neck, and for a moment they staggered like that, Pamela on her feet, Dick on his hands. Then the protege twisted his hips and threw her to the cage floor. Propping himself on one elbow he stared down at her through the beak mask. “And finally….you killed Dr Quinzel! And now I’m going to kill you, unless you….mmmmmmmmmmmmmmpppppppppppphhh!”

As he gloated, Pamela’s own legs suddenly swung round and grappled Dicks head like a boa constrictor grabbing its prey. Dick squealed, and suddenly both fighters were trapped in each other's legs, squirming on the ground.

“Break her fucking neck!” Squealed Barbara, and for a moment it looked like Dick might be in with a chance, as Pamela had been in his hold longer and was starting to go a little blue. But then the doctor's snake-skin clad thighs began to ripple in a familiar motion.

“NO….” whispered Barbara, knowing what that meant. The venom was coming to life. Suddenly, Pamela’s limbs snapped taught and went tense. Dick started convulsing and his own legs came loose, allowing a panting Pamela to sit up and see the masked Dick suddenly panicking in her constricting legs, the back of her left glute crushing his windpipe.

“Yes….” said Pamela. “I crushed that bitch cat burglar….when she broke into my greenhouse! And yes, I made your little whore of a girlfriend beg between my legs, again in self-defence! And as for Dr Harleen Quinzel, well….I’m not saying, and neither are you!” She gave another monstrous jerk of her legs then opened them. Dick lay wheezing on the floor, clutching his throat.

“He needs a medic….” Stammered Bruce, redundantly as there was nothing they could do. On the screen, Pamela had stood up and was now dragging the breathless Dick to his knees by his hair. Once there, she coiled her left leg around in front of his face and cinched the beak mask between her calf and thigh, in the back of her knee. “He de-anonymised me, so it's only fair I return the favour. Lets unmask this bird…” She said to the ecstatic crowd, then clenched her leg. The beak mask crunched in her single scissor leg grip, and Dick squealed as she pulled her leg forward and wrenched it away.

The crowd gasped as the fighter was unveiled as Bruce Wayne’s protege. “See? Looks like this boy scout isn’t so squeaky clean.” Mocked Pamela. Dick was now looking up at her with an adoring look, and Bruce realised that without the mask he was inhaling the Pheratract. He was under her spell. Realising this, Pamela said “I could easily squeeze you out of that Batsuit like I did to your girlfriend, but how about you just save me time and deactivate it?” She winked at the camera as she said this, and Barbara howled with rage.

Sure enough, with a meek “yes, Mistress…” Dick pressed a panel on the side of the suit and the material went limp. Satisfied, Pamela circled behind him and casually sat down, looping her legs around his middle. She whispered something in his ear, all the while looking at the camera. Bruce could tell this little show was for Barbara’s benefit. To gasps from the crowd, the enthralled Dick reached down and got out...his erect dick. Pamela then cinched his now unprotected ribs with her thighs and gripped his erect member with her bare green feet. She really did look completely wild now, the genius entrepreneur replaced by this sensuous freak-queen. She really was becoming her Poison Ivy persona.

Flexing her limbs, she spoke to the crowd, Bane and the camera. “Dick here has something of a dilemma. He really, really wants to come, don’t you Bird-Brain?” She rubbed his dick with her petite feet as she said this, and the captive Dick moaned “Yes….yes please let me come, mistress….”

Pamela rolled her eyes. “It’s Doctor, actually, but I’ll let that slide. If Dick here wants to come, I’ll have to break his ribs in the process. You see, if I rub my feet together any harder, the snake muscles in my thighs will flex. Without the protective effect of the kevlar-Graphene batsuit, the pressure will snap his lower ribs. But it's up to him really. So Dick, shall I let you go, or would you prefer to come and have your ribs snapped?”

Dick instantly started yelling desperately: “BREAK MY RIBS! PLEASE DOCTOR, BREAK MY RIBS AND LET ME COME!”

In the batcave, Barbara burst into tears again. The whole of Gotham society knew she was dating Bruce Wayne’s protege, and for everyone to watch another woman humili-crush him and for him to enjoy it was just too much.

“I will grant your wish…” said Pamela sadistically, and flexed her thighs. Several things happened at once. Pamela’s perfectly formed feet clenched and jerked upwards, pulling on Dick’s erect dick. A thin stream of come erupted from him. At the same time, the mesmerizing rippling beneath Pamela’s snakeskin catsuit reached a crescendo, her constricting limbs suddenly bulging as they pressed inwards. There was an audible series of snaps, like machine gun fire, as his ribs caved in. He cried out in a howl of anguish and ecstasy as Pamela released him, and he toppled onto his side on the floor, clutching at his ruined ribs and still pumping penis.

Pamela stood up, triumphant, over him, and placed her green foot near his mouth. As she spoke, Dick lapped his own seed off of it pathetically like a cowed puppy.

“People of Gotham. For too long, industrialists like Bruce Wayne and his thralls have kept the rest of you away from nature. Our city has grown ever larger, and with it crime, corruption, nepotism...and sexism! My Pheratract product allowed women to take back some power for themselves. Now, my new product - which I am going to call Poison Ivy - will allow environmental warriors to take back the city using a new combat art - the Venus Thigh-Trap. Take advantage of the chaos! Rise up for nature! Satisfy your natural, base desires! CRUSH the enemies of planet earth underfoot!”

As she said this last sentence, she lifted up her right leg, then stomped it back down with brutal force. Dick Grayson’s skull exploded under the pressure. In the batcave, Barbara screamed. Bruce gasped. The Commissioner lowered his head in grim resignation. In the cage, Bane walked into the ring, wading through Dick’s brain matter, and raised Pamela hand up high.

“We have a winner! By Foot Stomp Skull Crush, Poison Ivy! Join us again next week! And I have a feeling these fights will be much easier to run in the new Gotham!”

The camera panned from Bane’s mask to the grinning, bloody, wild freckled face of Poison Ivy, then went black.

In the batcave, the sound of Barbara’s sobs echoed in the ensuing silence. It was Alfred who finally broke it, having received a message on his tablet.

“Excuse me for the interruption at this difficult time, Master Wayne, but you should know: United Nations Representative Ms Prince is here from Metropolis. Her helicopter just touched down on the manor lawn. Shall I admit her?”

“Yes. Bring her in.” Bruce heard himself say. He still couldn’t believe it. Dick, young Dick Grayson who he’d taken in. The likable lad from the circus of people traffickers, who’d grown into a dependable, idealistic partner in crime fighting. Who’d been a rock to Barbara, so much so that even the protective Commissioner had approved of them dating. He was such an idealist, Bruce had often seen him as his moral compass. And now….gone. Crushed under the foot of a woman drunk on her own medicine.

As they waited for Alfred to return with their guest, Bruce said “At least now we have a confession. You heard it, on the internet, she admitted to killing Dr Quinzell, kidnapping Barbara and crushing Selena Kyle…”

The Commissioner grunted, his voice barely audible where it was muffled in Barbara’s auburn hair as he comforted her. “It won’t matter. She can still plead self-defence. The only thing we might be able to get her for is illegal cage fighting. Worse, we could now be indicted for damaging Ivy Pharmacetical’s property…”

The door to the Batcave chimed as Alfred returned.

“May I present, Ms Diana Prince from the UN.”

The woman who entered was tall, possibly even taller than Bruce, and in her mid thirties. Although it was inappropriate to think it at a time like this, Bruce had to admit she was preternaturally beautiful, with long jet black hair which was almost blue. She was wearing a tight beige coat which only went down to half-thigh length, revealing long, toned looking bare legs and black boots. When she spoke, her accent had a hint of the South American continent mixed in with Metropolis.

“Bruce Wayne. Commissioner Gorden. Barbara. My name is Diana Prince, UN ambassador for Amazonia and current security council chair. First of all, my sincere condolences to all of you about Dick Grayson. I heard the news on the flight over. He was by all accounts an ethical young man. Bruce, I know you don’t always see eye-to-eye with our methods in Metropolis. But the situation here in Gotham calls for no half measures. Pamela Isley is out of control, and clearly thinks she can act with impunity. But she’s wrong. I’m going to challenge her, woman on woman. I’m ex-Amazonian special forces, and I was leg choking out enemies before Pamela Isley was even at Gotham Academy. Gentlemen - Barbara - before this month is out, Pamala Isley will answer to the THIGHS OF TRUTH!”

To be continued….in the next and final installment of the Gotham Squeeze saga: Diana Prince and the Thighs of Truth!
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Old 05-Jul-21, 18:09
Sicod79 Sicod79 is offline
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Default Re: Dick Grayson: Bird-Brained

Oh my goodness, waiting for Pamela to overpower Wonder Woman with her legs, with baited breath.
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Old 07-Jul-21, 11:12
robman robman is offline
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Default Re: Dick Grayson: Bird-Brained

I can imagine Johnny Cage watching the PI vs NW fight, and say "Pfft, fake. The special effects suck." haha
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Old 10-Jul-21, 16:20
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herpkill21 herpkill21 is offline
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Default Re: Dick Grayson: Bird-Brained

Can't wait to see how wonder woman handle ivy's thigh
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