The Caped Duo

By Jaime del Bueno

Published on Aug 4, 2002

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The Caped Duo

by Jaime del Bueno

I read about the dynamic duo as a kid. Since they were in comic books, I supposed they were simply fictitious. Tonight, though, I found myself in a position of welcoming their intervention when I am desperately wishing for the presence of the caped and masked pair. It turns out that I get a chance to see and touch them for myself.

Earlier in the evening, however, I was thinking that this is the life. Here I am, Cary Donovan, cruising an exciting part of town (read that as a little dangerous) in a brand new SUV with all the bells and whistles. Cruising for a good looking hustler, who can help me get what I need. Despite the hour and the scarcity of people or traffic on the streets, I finally spot a really hot number who looks as though he might put out cheap. He is standing in front of a joint called RICK AND TONY'S BAR. He is slender, young and hungry looking.

I circle the block and slowly pull over beside him. As he steps to the edge of the curb, I lower the window nearest to the curb but then he continues on around to the driver's side window. So I lower that window. It is no trouble at all with the SUV's super power windows.

It takes a few minutes of haggling to get together on a price. I guess he figures he has a monopoly on the empty street and he can charge more. Then, when a price and acknowledgement of what he will do for that amount are decided, I expect him to go back to the other side of the car. Instead, he leans through the window and grabs me. At the same time, a much larger man appears from nowhere and reaches in the other window, which I had left down, unlocks the door and hops quickly into the SUV.

In no time at all, I am hauled from the vehicle and mangled a little while they drag me into the alley. Here, they slap me around some more and throw me up against a dumpster, where I immediately sag to the filthy ground. My clothes somehow got ripped and almost torn off me.

Then I hear the roar of the SUV being gunned down the street as I'm lying there wondering how I can go back onto the street in such a condition. I didn't need to have worried, though, because three husky looking guys materialize at the end of the alley and start obviously toward me. They have seen me and don't plan to be of any help to me. As well as I could see in the dark alley, two of them appeared to be rednecks and the third was a Latino. Two of them grab my arms and stand me upright, just long enough for the other guy to undo my trousers and pull them to my feet. Removing my shoes, he has no trouble in taking off my pants, which he tosses into the dumpster with the shoes.

"Look at that ass", one of them growls. "I know what you came down to this part of town for. You're needing a good fucking, aren't you?"

"Yeah, that's what he wants. Look at his dick get hard," another one said. Then to me "And you came to the right place." They drop their pants to their ankles as they surround me.

One of them rips my shirt completely off and it goes in the dumpster, too. "But first, let's see what kind of a cock sucker you are." He pushes me to my knees and the three gather around me with their hard cocks in their hands.

For a few minutes, they take turns pulling me by my hair around from one to another dick. First one of the rednecks pulls me around and stuffs a big cock in my mouth and says "Suck this hard dick and enjoy the flavor of a real man, pussy face." He starts something of a chant with "Suck you fucker, suck". This goes on until the Latino reaches for my scalp. Next the Latino pulls my hair, muttering, "Take this dick, puta. Suck it good, puta. All the way, puta." Then as he continues fucking my face he keeps up a litany of Spanish words which I suspect are basically the same instructions as the English ones before. At least the word for whore, puta, kept coming up regularly.

With no warning, the third man pulls my face to his crotch and forces my mouth and throat open with "Having fun, shit face?" Then, after bruising my throat with his monster dick, "We'll have some fun in your ass, too", pushing me abruptly onto my hands as well as knees.

"Look at the cunt that goes with that cute butt," one exclaims and emphasizes this by sticking a dry, rough finger up my anus. "Who wants the first go at it?"

A decision was reached with a minimum of discussion and a rampant dick, also dry, quickly and painfully replaces the finger. "Don't you like this, pussy boy? Then you better learn to like it soon, because there's more of it" while he pushes a few inches more into my tube. The only lube on it had been my spit and that's mostly gone, so the swift insertion up my ass is damned uncomfortable.

As a matter of fact, it burns like the hinges of hell. I scream "Shit, oh shit, oh-h- h, no-o-o-oo-o-o-o-o-o" The only good my cries do is to get one of the other dongs reinserted in my mouth to mute my moans and groans. This fortunately distracts me from the ache in my ass until the pain in my butt starts being replaced with a surprisingly pleasant sensation. This is accompanied by my prick getting incredibly hard and flopping up to my navel. "This shitty pussy slut likes it. Look at that boner and the smile on his face."

Naturally, as soon as I can feel a flood of cum in my insides, the dick that produces it is replaced by another one. And that maneuver is repeated as each one gets his rocks off, screwing me as though they have to finish the job before someone calls a halt to all the fun. "Deeper, faggot boy. Take it all the way up your nasty asshole."

Each one seems to try to outdo the one before in bruising my bung hole as they get rougher and rougher. When the third one jerks my hips back so painfully that his dick is definitely stretching previously untouched places in my gut "Here's some more for your sloppy cunt". The donkey- sized dong finally swells so that his semen can flood my deepest recesses, I breathe a long sigh and figure that they may leave me alone now since all three have been serviced.

It seems I figured wrong. By this time, a couple of replacements wander into the alley, dropping their pants as they approach and quickly get into the spirit of the gangbang. I guess they are coming from the bar next to the alley.

Sure enough, a steady stream of horny guys keep pummeling my throat and brutally pounding my ass for what seems like hours. Many have had their second round of jackhammering my bruised and beaten ass and some have managed to cum a third time. The nasty talk, punctuated by loud, taunting laughter is in at least three languages.

One adds to his kicks by pissing up my rectum shortly after he cums, laughing and pointing as the urine mixed with semen and maybe a little shit blasts back out of my rectum like a geyser. Then the remainder dribbles down my legs, tickling, burning and itching, with me writhing because I am unable to wipe it off.

A couple of the others come back after their peckers soften from the fucking they gave me and fill my mouth and throat with beer flavored urine "Bet you're thirsty, ain't you? Wouldn't want this mighty sweet mouth to go dry."

Several just piss all over my body, down my ass crack, into my hair and over my face, giggling as their friends with dongs in one or the other of my cavities have to pull out and dodge the golden streams. By now, I am past being tortured by fluids drizzling down my flesh.

There are long rapiers of steel, and fat, beercan sized dongs, as well as more average sized cocks, often with enormous Mushroom heads, which hurt coming and going. These usually belonged to the fuckers who liked to pull out completely and then pile drive the tool all the way back in with one rapid movement. "Take it all. Take it all in your hot cunt, you cock slut!"

I found myself cumming two or three times during these jackhammer assaults--annoyingly it was usually when one of the mushroom-headed shits was brutishly torturing my asshole. Each time I came, the sight of my snowy life juice caused the onlookers to laugh, cheer, and even applaud. I assumed the applause was for the fucker in my ass, rather than me.

There was one rather short guy who probably had the biggest schlong in the bunch. He took the prize, too, because he managed to ravage my rear end at least three times and crammed himself all the way down my throat to cum twice more. Even in the dark, I could tell when he was the one making a repeat trip to the well. And it does feel like a well since my fuckhole stays gapped open during the brief times when they exchange another steely hard dick for his now soft one as it finishes its plunder of my insides. This is particularly evident, even to me, when the little guy's enormous cock is withdrawn after he finishes trying to split my ass open-and I feel a rush of cold air inside.

The action is beginning to slow a little when a futuristic looking car speeds into the alley with a roar. Two of the thugs pick me up and almost succeed in depositing me in the dumpster along with my shredded clothing. They turn and run away, though, as the masked pair in the familiar costumes of Batman and Robin sprint to my side. The duo stands there looking menacing while the last remnant of my attackers drifts away.

"Please," I wheedled to the newcomers "Will you please take me home? I'm in pretty bad shape and I wouldn't dare go out on the street looking like this." I look down at my pathetic, naked and bruised body. They looked, too, and the taller one seems to smile while the shorter one definitely shows signs of life in his crotch.

"I don't see how," says the tall one. "The Batmobile is a two seater and I don't know where we'd put you."

"Just get me out of here and back to my own place. You can tie me across the hood of the car for all I care," I pleaded.

"I don't think that's necessary . . . . You could sit in my side of the Batmobile and hold me on your lap" suggested the smaller guy. "That way I'd cover up most of your bare ass and other things with my cape. Maybe it wouldn't look quite so strange going down the street, if anybody is still out at this hour."

I know that none of my clothes are worth salvaging. The shoes are an old worn out pair and the other things probably aren't even recognizable as clothing by now. So, I nod my head vigorously and start limping toward the car. I'm definitely walking with something of a waddle as I try putting as little pressure on my fuck hole as I can. The shorter man puts his arm around my waist and tries to help get me to the car and in it. It is comforting and I almost pass out from his touch.

In the car, the shorter guy does as promised and keeps as much of my bare body covered as he can. It seems to me he is moving around unnecessarily on my lap while he is adjusting his cape. I am sure that he can feel my cock enlarging and squirming. Never does he acknowledge it, though. He just keeps absent mindedly moving his butt and flexing his solid butt muscles as he moves around, massaging my excited pecker.

I'm afraid they are going to kick me out of the car and zoom off into the dark, so I invite them inside long before the wheels quit turning. When we get to my apartment, they park the Batmoobile in a dark spot so it is as inconspicuous as such an exotic vehicle can be.

They hesitate and then walk in with me as they lean close to my bare body, using their hands, arms and capes to keep most of me covered from inquisitive eyes. If there are any spectators at this time of night, a couple of hours before dawn, they aren't seeing very well.

Once inside, I start my carefully planned speech. "I sure would like to pay you two something for your kindness, but my billfold seems to have disappeared with all my clothes," I lie. "I don't know what I could do at this hour to let you know how much I appreciate your help."

After letting an awkward silence hang in the air for a couple of minutes, I hesitantly add, "My body is about all I have available." More silence, and then "If you think you want to use it, you welcome to it. I really am totally grateful for your rescuing me and returning me safely here. So, if you want, we can figure something out."

The taller man seems to smile strangely and the shorter one gives himself away with the tenting in his tights. "Well, the men who were with you in the alley, seemed to enjoy what you have to offer," drawls the taller one. "What do you suggest?"

"First, we could go into my exercise room and you could take off your clothes," I said, holding my breath involuntarily in anticipation. They start helping each other off with their tight costumes as they follow me into the room in which I did the exercises that do the most for me.

Almost the only thing in the so- called exercise room is a thickly padded, stout table I had built to carefully measured dimensions. I can lie on it either face up or face down and swallow a cock in each end.

They toss their garments into the corner, but keep on their masks and capes. I then let my eyes feast on two different types of bodies. Each is superb in its own right. The smaller guy has a compact, slim and trim Latino body with clearly defined muscles over his entire being. He is a beautiful dark caramel color.

The most conspicuous part of his anatomy, however, is an enormous man pole. It is long and it is thick. It is a dark chocolate color, almost black. It looks as though it is covered in a rather sooty colored, slick and shiny silk. It protrudes from a luxuriant, glistening bush of coal black hair that encompasses not only his pubic area, but also his balls and a strip running up to his navel. A similar thick growth of tightly-curled ebony hair makes interesting patterns on his chest and belly.

It is hard to take my eyes off this rampant, pulsing prize with large veins standing out from the shaft's stiffness. There is something vaguely familiar about this cock, but I can't imagine what it is or why it would be.

When I drag my eyes from the Latino perfection, I can see from his back that the taller man is strikingly muscled with a torso to die for. He has an extreme taper from his narrow hips and assed carved out of marble up to his broad shoulders. Not only his size, but also his blond hair and pale body made an exciting contrast to his Latino partner.

Then the Nordic god turns to face me. I almost gasp out loud. His cock and balls are perfectly proportioned, but they are in miniature. They could hang inconspicuously on a small, middle school kid.

I quickly throw myself across the table, trying to think of something complimentary. I motion for him to bring this strange sight to my face and say the only lame thing I can think of, "Wow! Aren't they beautiful? Stick that fine thing in my mouth right now." He puts the dick in my mouth and I swallow the balls as well. That's not awfully tactful, but now it is his time to gasp as I started sucking on the whole package.

Without looking, I can tell that the Latino is about to invade my tender ass. I hear him spit on it and spread that around with his hand. With some trepidation, I suggest "There is some lube in that drawer on the side of the table." I hear the drawer opening and I start to relax. That's my mistake. While I am relaxed and thinking of what's in my mouth, the monster cock is pushed all the way into my cunt butt--not too fast, but steadily--with no back and forth motion to gently ease the insertion a little at a time.

"There is plenty of cum already in there for lubrication. No?" he murmurs sexily, with what strikes me as a slightly exaggerated accent. I don't have to answer; he has already reached bottom and is beginning to pile drive the flagpole up and down my tunnel with plenty of thrilling repetitious thrusts and twists. I decide to give myself up freely to my two invaders. The owners of my throat and asshole pleasers obviously are competent to do the job and they seem to be enjoying their labors.

They take a really long time to come, as though they have drained their male juices very recently. I remain patient and have no trouble in allowing myself to find pleasure in their prolonged pumping. When they finally finish, they courteously help me upright and each thanks me graciously. Again I seem to hear a false note, since their voices don't quite register as sincere. They dress hurriedly despite my suggestion that I would feel safer if they would sleep over until morning. When they are gone with their hunky bodies and entertaining appendages, I lean tiredly against the door and listen. I sigh involuntarily as I hear the roar of the Batmobile fade into the distance. I may never see them again, but I have gazed upon, as well as felt, their personal monuments (well, there can be small monuments, too). I run a tub full of hot water, put soothing bath oil and my body in it . . . . . and think over my planning which brought this night to its completion. After hiding my billfold in my apartment and choosing my oldest and most threadbare clothing, I scouted the mall lot until I found the perfect SUV to bait the trap. I did luck out some in finding the right hustler to get the action started, although it was no chance that I had checked around enough to have good reason to believe that this part of town was my kind of heaven. Not every hustler could have given me the hours of sucking and fucking I was needing and looking for. I wonder if he has any idea that he has made it possible for me to have the very entertainment I wanted. Then I run some more soothing oil in the tub . . . . and promptly go to sleep with a big smile on my face.


A little later, in a garage a couple of streets over from RICK AND TONY'S BAR, two men stand admiring a new SUV. They are under a sign which reads "Battles and Robledo Automotive". As owners of the garage, they have parked it in the hidden, backroom next to their own version of a Batmobile, which has been carefully placed under a canvas cover.

The one with Bat embroidered on his coveralls says "A nice haul. Since it's obviously stolen already, though, we are going to have to get rid of it quickly."

The shorter man, with Rob embroidered on his coveralls responds "Well, everything went exactly as we planned. I guess we are two clever masterminds." "Masters of this situation anyhow," Bat adds. "By the way, we need to pay Luis and Ivan early tomorrow because they're both short of cash. They did exactly as we told them in taking the SUV and the simple cock sucker driving it."

"We don't owe the guys in the bar anything". Rob laughs, "They got their wages in ass and were glad to do it. I have to say, I enjoyed getting in line for some action, myself." "I noticed you were a repeat customer," Bat chortles. "Several repeats, but who's counting?"

"How do you suppose I was able to fuck him with so much restraint when we got him back to his apartment. "I thought," mused Rob, "that I gave him a nice gentlemanly fuck in that bloody hole with a little tenderness thrown in. And you had dipped your wick in his mouth often enough so that you were practically tender with him when he gave you that final blowjob."

"I imagine, though, that the total workout left him sore enough that he won't be bringing his ass down to this part of town soon . . . . . I'll bet it's a while before the little fucker is managing to even walk, let alone sit up and take nourishment of any kind, let alone the kind he got tonight." Rob concluded "And I'd like to know just what the twit's thinking now about his excursion to our neck of the woods?"

"Did you say twit . . . . . or twat?

THE END

Particularly since this is my first attempt at writing for the Nifty Archives, I would appreciate any of your comments, good or bad. Please direct them to: Wizofaz@msn.com.

Batman and Robin and the Batmobile are trademarks of DC Comics.

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