“I am so stupid. They’re all looking at me, aren’t they?” I had my face in my hands, afraid to look up.

“Can you blame them, Angie?” Jessica was laughing at me, and I didn’t blame her. I looked ridiculous.

Last week, I had seen an ad for “Batman Day” at the local minor league baseball team. Minor league teams have these weird promos all of the time, and given that the team is the Louisville Bats, the Batman connection was just right there for the picking. And given that I am a huge Batman nerd — I read all of the comics and am obsessed with Batgirl in particular — I decided to go, even if I knew next to nothing about baseball. I was excited. It was another reason to break out my cosplay from a few years back. It was a hit there, so why wouldn’t it be at Batman Day?

I don’t know what I was thinking the night would entail. I guess I assumed that it would be more like a comic book convention with a side of baseball. It didn’t matter though, because whatever I thought was decidedly wrong. It was just a baseball game. A baseball game where me and my elaborate Bombshells Batgirl costume were a sideshow for people to point and stare at.

While I suffered, Jessica and her boyfriend, Davey, were amused at the position I had put myself in. To their credit, they DID warn me. They actually had season tickets to the Bats, and when I told them I was going to go, they tried telling me that I was going to be disappointed. I don’t know why I didn’t listen.

“Here, take this, girl.” Jessica handed me $40, saving my ass for probably the millionth time. “Get a jersey from the memorabilia booth and cover up. You’ll feel better.”

This was an ongoing theme in our relationship. I was the hot mess, and she was my roommate-slash-mom. It’s one of the reasons that despite us having very little in common — she was a tomboy that wanted to play in the softball league, whereas I was the nerd that wanted to petition online for Warner Brothers to restore the Snyder Cut of Justice League — our friendship worked. We had lived together for two years, and I was going to be sad when she inevitably moved in with Davey.

“Thank you SOO much.” I said, taking the cash. I don’t know why the idea of covering up had never even occurred to me, to be honest. It was the perfect solution.

“Do you want me to get you guys anything to eat while I’m up?”

“That’s nice of you, but no thank you. I’ll just wait for the hotdog guy to come by.”

I looked over and extended the offer to Davey, but he declined as well.

As per Murphy’s Law, the memorabilia stand was on the exact opposite side of the stadium. Everywhere I looked, people were staring at me. And the more people that looked at me, the more I realized it wasn’t just because I was Batgirl. This was a family setting, and my outfit was definitely not appropriate for kids. To all of the mothers there with their little ones, I was dressed like a slut.

They weren’t wrong, either. I looked pretty trampy…even by comic book standards. If you aren’t familiar with the Bombshells series, its rendition of Batgirl is a little different than the usual one you are probably picturing. It is more of a “pin up” version, if you will. It has a crop top that exposes both my stomach and my considerable cleavage, and it is accented by gold knee-high boots that have four inch heels.

And as if “hottie in a skimpy costume” didn’t attract enough attention by itself, there were also the colors. Unlike the New 52 Batgirl costume, this one was a beautiful bright purple, with shimmering gold boots and cape. I wasn’t just dressed slutty. I was dressed FLASHY too, especially with the sun beating down on me. I was basically glimmering.

After walking for what seemed like forever, I finally got to the booth. A jersey was $60. A bit out of my price range, but Jessica had given me enough to pay for most of it, and it would be well worth it if it prevented the dirty looks. I handed the cashier my money and took my new jersey over to a bench so I could take the tags off and put it on. The nightmare was over.

“God dammit!” Someone said behind me. “I finally find ONE other person here that wore a costume to this game, and they are hiding it?”

I turn around and lo and behold, the guy did indeed dress up for the occasion. Standing in front of me was the spitting image of Dick Grayson.

His Nightwing costume may not have been as professionally done as mine, but he had definitely put work into it. The suit itself was mostly spandex, but he had added a utility belt and mask that both looked like he had taken time to craft them himself. He also had Nightwing’s signature weapons — his escrima sticks — tucked into the aforementioned belt. I was impressed.

I also immediately noticed that the mystery man had Nightwing’s even more signature weapon — his ass. Any comic book fan will tell you that Dick Grayson is known for having a sculpted hindquarters as much for anything that he has ever done with Batman, and this guy definitely nailed that feature. My mouth was literally watering at the idea of sinking my claws into it.

“Come on Batgirl. What do you say? Stay in costume for me?” He smiled, causing me to do the same.

“Maybe. But only if we stay together,” I replied, gesturing to him to walk with me. He did, and we began my journey back to the other side of the stadium.

“So tell me a little more about your get up. I haven’t seen Batgirl like this before,” he inquired. “Is that a pilot’s helmet?”

“It is indeed. This costume is from a series called Bombshells,” I explained. “The comic takes place in the 1910s and in it, Barbara Gordoun is a French pilot/vampire that goes on to form her own Suicide Squad.”

“That sounds like a fun twist. Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it.”

“It was printed in the ’40s, so I’m not surprised. That’s actually why I like it. It’s unique. In all of the conventions I’ve been to, I’ve never seen anyone else wearing it.”

“The fact that it makes you look stupid hot probably doesn’t hurt.”

I gave a little smirk. I knew he had been checking me out, but it was nice to know my suspicions were correct.

“You don’t look so bad yourself. And I gotta say that you chose your character perfectly. I bet I could bounce a quarter off of that butt of yours.”

“Well, duh. You can’t be Nightwing and have a pancake butt. That would be a crime.” We both laughed.

“So what made you dress up like this for a baseball game?” I was curious to see if his story was any different than mine.

“I’ve had it since I went to Comic-Con in San Diego two years ago. Friends told me they were going to dress up as the rest of the bat family and we would all have fun with it. Then I get here to find out they were fucking with me.”

“Wow… what assholes.”

“Their loss. Became of them, I had an in with the sexiest Batgirl I’ve ever laid eyes on.” I began to blush.

When we got to my section, I turned to face my partner in fighting crime. “So does this Nightwing have a Starfire back home?” I leaned in and dragged my finger in the crease between his pecs.

“Nope.” He then took the initiative, snatching my phone out of my hand and programmed his number in it.

I looked down at my phone and his new contact information.

“Is your name actually ‘Dick’?”

“Most people call me Ricky, but my full name is Richard, so yeah.”

“Well, you’ll always be Dick to me, then.” I said with a smirk, letting my eyes drift to between his legs. I could see the outline of what appeared to be a slightly hardening cock. If that’s indeed what it was, I was going to be impressed. “I’m Angie, by the way.”

“Well Angie, you want to have some more fun?”

“Depends entirely on what kind of fun.”

He reached into his utility belt and pulled out a small box about the size of a small bottle of Advil.

“Ooooh… and here I thought the utility belt was just for show.”

“Nothing you see is just for show.” The implication was clear.

“So what’s this?” I began opening up the box, but he put his hand on mine to stop me.

“Don’t open it until I tell you.”

I began to pout, but just as I did, he leaned down and kissed me, changing my mood from disappointment to lust. I may have wanted to know what was in the box, but I wanted to know what was under that superhero suit far more. I reached down and grabbed at his bulge.

“There will be time for that later.” To my dismay, he began to leave. “See you soon, Batgirl. And remember, don’t open it until I tell you.”

I was so horny and sexually frustrated. I didn’t want to wait! I wanted that dick in me right now. As he turned the corner and out of sight, I looked down at the box in my hand.

“Fuck that. If I can’t have him, I’m at least seeing what’s in this damn thing,” I ripped it open.

Inside the tiny box was a black butt plug, and it was magnificent. It was made of some kind of metal with a matte black finish. The plug was a perfect size for me — the thickness of a golf ball at its widest — But what really struck me was what was on the handle. It was the bat symbol. I had no idea how he got something like this; I certainly had no idea why he had it with him. But dear God was I fascinated by it. For what seemed like an eternity, I just stared at it in amazement, twirling it and looking at it from different angles. It was a combination of my favorite things: sex toys and Batman. Nightwing had come into my life and given me my most prized possession. I would need to give him a reward for sure.

I know that a lot of girls don’t like it, but anal is my favorite thing ever. I just LOVE the feeling of a big, fat dick in my ass, and I had a rather large collection of plugs at home. I don’t know how Dick knew — maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part — but he had just given me the best gift of my life.

I immediately went back into the bathroom to put it in. Finding a stall, I started by sucking on the cold metal to get nice and lubed up. Once it was ready, I pulled my leggings down to my knees and put it at the precipice of my anus. God, did it feel great. The feeling of the cold metal initially touching my rosebud, the initial pressure of pushing it against the resistance of my hole, and then the feeling of my sphincter releasing and the toy slipping in? I loved it all. The only thing that could have made it better was if it was him sliding inside of me instead. Jesus was I turned on.

With the toy perfectly secure in my bum, I left the bathroom and headed back to my seat.

“What took you so long?” Jessica laughed. “And why aren’t you WEARING the jersey you went to buy? Wasn’t that the whole point?”

“I ran into a friend and they convinced me I was looking at it all wrong.” As I sat down, I wiggled my hips just to feel it penetrate me even more.

“Was this ‘friend’ a guy by chance?” Jessica asked inquisitively.

“Maybe.” Jessica was amused with that response. She knew how promiscuous I could be.

I felt the buzz of my phone going off and looked down.

-“Open it.”

-“Ok so here’s the thing…” I texted back. “I may have already opened it. And I may have also put it in.”

-“You like it that much, huh 😏”

-“OMG it’s fucking perfect. How did you know I’d be into it though?”

-“Just had a feeling. Any woman with an ass as juicy as yours should like a good butt fucking.”

-“Well, leave it to Batman’s apprentice to have the perfect gadget.”

-“You don’t know the half of it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

-“You’ll see…”

As I read that final text, I felt a brusque jolt from inside my core that startled me, causing me to drop my phone.

It was the plug, though I wasn’t really processing it as that in the moment. It all happened so fast. One second, I was looking at my phone and trying to decipher what he was being coy about, the next I was exploding from the inside.


I put my hand on the seat between my legs to prevent myself from falling forward into the row below mine. I still wasn’t thinking clear enough to realize what was happening or how. I certainly wasn’t thinking about the fact that I was screaming profanities in public. No, all I knew in that moment was that something was causing me to reach a level of pleasure that I had never experienced. I don’t know whether it was because of the surprise factor or what, but in no time at all, every nerve in my body was firing, sending me into a violent orgasm that caused my legs to start spasm and me to scream out.

“MY FUCKING GOD!” I panted. “I’M CUMMING! I’M CUMMING!” I slouched down in my seat and began rubbing my clit through my pants as if someone else was controlling my brain and telling me to. I began using my other hand to pinch and twist my nipples through my top. I was an animal possessed by the pleasure I was feeling.


After about 20 seconds of the most powerful orgasm of my life, I finally came down from my apex and slowly caught my breath again. Mysteriously, the plug chose that exact moment to stop.

“WHAT. THE FUCK. WAS THAT?” Jessica asked, with her jaw on the floor. Her boyfriend was stunned speechless as well.

As I saw Jessica’s reaction, I snapped out of my trance and looked around me. Everyone was wearing the exact same expression as my roommate. My face went beet red. If I had thought before that me simply being at the game in my costume had been the most embarrassing moment of my life, this made that look like child’s play.

“Seriously, are you OK?” Jessica continued.

“I… I’m fine,” I mumbled. I just wanted to crawl into a ball and die. “I’m sorry everyone.” I tried to apologize to everyone who had seen my temporarily loss of inhibitions, but I got nothing but dirty looks back in return. Well, that and a couple of super pervy looks from a few guys.

“I have to go.” I gathered my shit to leave in a hurry and ran up the stairs as fast as my still slightly wobbly legs would allow. Even though I was eager to be alone, Jessica followed, confronting me once she caught up with me.

“Wait!” Jessica grabbed my wrist. “Tell me what’s going on. You don’t sound fine. And I’m not stupid; I know what that was.”

I wasn’t really in the mood for talking about what had just happened. Honestly, I was still trying to process it myself.

Was it the plug? How did he do that? I had heard of toys with a remote control, but this one didn’t look like the kind. It’s not like there was a visible seam as to where it opened up to insert batteries.

I ended up making up some bullshit excuse about how I had put a toy in myself and how it must have accidentally turned itself on when I sat down. She seemed to buy it. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time I wore a butt plug out, even if it was definitely the first time that something like THIS happened. Regardless, she double checked that I was indeed ok and then headed back to the game. As for myself, I went into the bathroom to attempt to clean myself up.

I looked in the mirror and everything was a mess. My hair was completely disheveled, my lip stick was a mess from my biting my lip, and my leggings had a huge wet spot thanks to me playing with my pussy. The first two could be fixed, but that last one was going to be a problem. I did what I could and padded down my groin with some wet paper towels, thinking maybe that would help. I walked out and sat on a bench.

**BUZZ** My phone vibrated in my purse.

-“You looked like you enjoyed my surprise.”

-“How did you do that?! And why don’t you warn me?!”

-“You were the one that put it in before I even told you to open it.”

He had a point, but still.

-“I am going to fucking kill you.”

-“OK Batgirl, come and kill me. I’m in suite 20 on the luxury box level.”


I grabbed my purse and headed towards the elevator, which of course was again on the other side of the stadium. I wasn’t sure whether I was going to punch him or fuck home when I got there. Maybe a little off column A, little bit of column B. I was pissed, but also insanely turned on. I mean, I was already crazy horny when he had left me with the box in hand. The insane orgasm he had given me already only made my desire increase.

I was basically speed walking around the stadium, making good time. That is, until it hit me again. It being the plug. Dick had turned it on again, this time cranking it up to an even higher setting than before.

I have no idea why it didn’t occur to me to take the plug out, but I hadn’t. Maybe it was naivety in thinking that he wouldn’t do it again. Maybe there was a small part of me that still liked having it in. I don’t know. All I know is that when he turned it on that second time, my legs turned to jello and I collapsed onto the hard concrete floor. The vibrations felt incredible, but luckily, the pain of my knees hitting the ground kept me from losing myself like the previous time. I didn’t want to give a repeat performance to the crown out here, did I?

A few people rushed over to help me up, but I waved them off, electing to stand on my own. “Are you sure you are fine, miss?” a nice elderly man asked, obviously still concerned.

“I’m ok, but thaaaaank you.” The vibrator began making a pulsing pattern. “Just a little clumsy in these boots.” I bit down on my lip to contain the moans that my brain desperately wanted to release. The old man shook his head and walked back to his wife.

I took out my phone to text him.

-“You having fun?”

-“Of course I am. The question is are you?”

-“No. I am not having fun. My knees hurt and you are turning me into a spectacle.” It was a lie. I was crazy turned on by all of this. The idea that Batman’s former sidekick was holding a remote control for my sexual pleasure was intensely erotic. No way was I going to tell him that, though.

-“Then why didn’t you take it out? I think you like it. I think you like the fact that you are in public, getting off in front of all of these people. All because of a toy that a complete stranger gave you.” I felt the vibrating intensify. Fuck. He was reading me like a book.

I continued my trek to his suite, trying my best to ignore both the stimulating vibration still emitting from my ass and the voice in my head telling me I needed to find the nearest bathroom stall and give in to another orgasm. Finally, I made it.

There was just one issue. In front of the elevator was an usher checking for wrist bands. I was screwed.

“Hi, I lost my wristband, but I need to get back to my suite.” I tried to sweet talk him, throwing in a little flirting as well. I did my signature move — taking a deep breath and letting it cause my chest to thrust forward.

“What suite are you in? I’ll have to radio up to confirm,” he said, holding up his walkie-talkie. He was apparently immune to my usually very real super power.

“Twennnnnnnnntyyyyyyyy.” Of course that was the moment Dick chose to crank up the vibrator.

The usher gave me a curious look, but began to radio up.

“There’s no need for that. She’s with me.” A voice from behind me intervened. HIS voice. I turned around and there he was. Turns out that Nightwing had been following me the entire time.

I guess I should have figured it out. I mean, the plug always seemed to introduce itself during the most inconvenient moments. Either it was sheer coincidence, or he knew… which was now clear. Looking at him over my shoulder, with the toy still on and doing it’s thing, I had never wanted someone so bad.