The New Teen Titans vs. the Italian Stallion Chapter Thirteen: At Last, A Rescue Evan Andrews 2021
The following story is a work of fan fiction set in the New Teen Titans era in a continuity where Dick Grayson as Robin and Joe Wilson as Jericho overlapped, because screw unitard hero uniforms.
All characters depicted in it belong to and are trademarked and copyrighted by DC Comics and/or its subsidiaries. I am not related to the company and make no claim of ownership over the characters.
The story depicts males in sexual situations, mostly with other males. If that offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading now. Thank you.
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"What the fuck is that supposed to be?!" Deathstroke roared as he watched the video clip.
Ollie Queen, the Green Arrow, looked over the assassin's shoulder and said, "That's a three-way, Slade. And the pretty blond with the sideburns (that's your son, right?) is what they call `getting DPed'."
Deathstroke whirled and backhanded the Emerald Archer to the ground.
"Don't push me, Queen," he growled.
"Gentlemen," Batman said, before Arrow could loose another barb, "Can we get back to the reason I called you both here."
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When the whole shitshow came to an end, the captive and brain-fucked Titans had not the least shred of shame left. They neither needed nor wanted it. Night after night, they stripped and whored like the studied professionals they had become. There were the belles of the sex-club ball, and naturally that tidbit wasn't something that could be kept secret for long. Enthusiastic patrons had indiscreetly uploaded enough footage containing sufficient background detail for Batman to pinpoint the club the Titans were being worked in.
After the Dark Knight had found the first dark web video--a POV clip of Robin sucking some client's cock while Jericho ate out his Boy Wonder ass--it took Alfred three days to put the Bat Cave back to order. But now Batman knew where to attack, and he'd assembled his team, even if he hadn't wanted to.
In a way, the current fight between Deathstroke and Green Arrow was Alfred's fault.
"If I might suggest, Master Bruce," his butler had said, "You oughtn't to tackle this alone."
Batman's scowl spoke volumes.
"Mr. Queen needs to be involved. He's been beside himself this whole time, and he needs to be seen rescuing young Mr. Harper."
"Alright," Batman husked, "Green Arrow then."
"And..."
"Don't say it, Alfred."
"It's what you pay me for, sir," Alfred replied. "If you bring in the Green Arrow, logic suggests you should bring in Deathstroke as well."
"That man wants to kill Changeling, and he's hardly been a model father to Jericho."
"Be that as it may, he needs to be part of any rescue."
"Were you going to suggest bringing Mento along too?"
"Sarcasm ill becomes you, sir," Alfred said. "Mr. Dayton has not been in a sufficiently stable state of mind of late to make him a good fourth to your venture. As you will not be facing any top level villains, though, the three of you should be sufficient."
Batman was still not happy (and it showed), but he said, "Alright. Send the word. Have Green Arrow and Deathstroke meet me on the top of city hall at midnight. If they aren't there, I'm going in alone."
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Alone might have been better, the Dark Knight mused. The Arrow had been riding Deathstroke's last nerve the whole way from city hall, and only Batman's walking away from the bickering pair had gotten them to the club without a knockdown drag-out.
The Martels' by-invitation-only male strip club was rocking when the rescue party arrived. Cautiously, they gained entry to the establishment from the roof and made their way downstairs where they heard and then saw the main-card live-sex show (starring the Titans, of course, in costume) in progress. At the moment the rescue party peeped through the curtains, Speedy was splayed on his back on a waist-high table while Robin ate his ass out—or at least the Boy Wonder was when he wasn't screaming from the vicious fuck being administered by the lime-green dire wolf perched on his back.
"Oh, fucking Jesus!" Robin screamed, "Fuck my ass, Changeling! You're so... ARGH!
The Boy Wonder almost blew his load when the shapeshifter's knot forced its way into his guts.
Robin's and Speedy's costumes were strategically torn so that all pertinent holes were available for invasion by tongues, fingers, or cocks. And when he shifted back, Batman had no doubt, Changeling's costume should sport a complementary tear allowing his penis free reign. The crowd was eating up the hot superhero on superhero action with a spoon, even if a popular member of the troupe was absent. There was no sign of Jericho, but he had to be around somewhere. If what Batman could see was typical of the club's activities, he suspected the blond mentalist was probably off sucking some man's cock in private. (It never occurred to him that Jericho might be inside one of the boys fucking on stage.) Other strippers were working the room or else gyrating away in the go-go cages along the walls, and the patrons were either watching the shows intently, or fucking one of the club's rent-boys or sex-slaves, or both. The patrons were mostly male, but more than a few females lounged and circulated enjoying the "safe" atmosphere. The Martels themselves occupied the VIP box where they played lords of the swiving manor as if born to the role.
"You ready?" the Dark Knight growled.
Green Arrow nodded, and Deathstroke said, "Right behind you."
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The rescue party rushed into the room in a body, and as a body they were noticeable and noticed.
"A raid!"
Alarms sounded, the audience scrambled, and the staff (including the other strippers) scattered. They might have gotten away, too, if a certain other interested party hadn't just barred the doors from the outside.
Up in their VIP lounge, the Martel brothers also made a valiant attempt to bug out. Little did they know, though, that the same men who had barred the doors had set traps in their box as well as in the club downstairs. An atomized fog of pheromonal pig oil blew in, and the Martels, tearing off their clothes, mindlessly fell on one another's bodies in a frenzy of incest that would have put authors of slash fanfic about them to shame.
Meanwhile down in the club, the Terrible Trio of rescuers had hit the stage before they ran into Stallion's mist of pig oil (full strength) for the first time. They scudded to a halt and for a moment, as the pheromonal drugs attacked and overwhelmed their usual inhibitions and behavior patterns, could do nothing more than stare at the hot three-way action unfolding before them.
Batman managed to maintain a façade of control. He stood, rigid, trying to fight off the drugs, but it was clear (from later review) he was (slowly but definitely) losing his battle. His black satin trunks showed every inch of his slowly stiffening cock as he fell further and further under the drug's influence. His engorging bat-cock was clearly trying to find a way free of the confining costume. Soon, very soon, Batman knew he'd lose the fight and give in to his lust, but for now he fought on.
Green Arrow, almost instantly hard as fuck as shown by the tent in his green tights, fixated on the writhing Speedy, spread before him like a fuck-boy buffet. Unlike Batman, Arrow wasn't known for his self-control. In short order his reptile brain took over, and he staggered forward, following his blood-engorged need towards the action.
Deathstroke had the least control over his emotions of them all. (He was kind of famous for that.)
He pointed at the fornicating Titans and roared, "Where is my son?! What have you done to Joey?!"
The green dire wolf looked up and smiled a wicked canine smile at the enraged assassin.
"Hiya, pops," a voice that was partly Changeling's but also partly Jericho's said.
Deathstroke leapt, grabbing hold of the wolf, tearing its knot out of Robin's trained but still sensitive asshole.
"Aiyee!" The Boy Wonder screamed, and he fell onto all fours instead of collapsing in a faint of pain.
Deathstroke bore the green fuck-beast to the ground and pinned him there, whereupon the wolf morphed into Changeling's human form. (Complete with an impressive hard-on jutting out of his torn costume; Batman had been right.) The impudent young hero laughed in Deathstroke's face, and, grabbing hold of the assassin's head, pulled him down into a soul-consuming kiss. Deathstroke resisted, but only for a second. As the pig oil won, he fell on top the young hero's body, kissing the boy back frantically while they both ground away: pelvis against pelvis, hard cock against hard cock. Changeling rolled them both so that he ended on top of Deathstroke and began to mouth-worship his way down the assassin's hard daddy bod. Deathstroke was so turned on by the sensation that he could only throw his hands over his head and thrash under the shifter's ministrations. It felt so fucking good, and as the green teen cocksucking machine approached the distended pouch of Deathstroke's orange trunks he thought he might pass out. Of course, Changeling didn't let him.
"Mmm. What does Daddy have for me in here?" Changeling teased as he reached for the assassin's crotch and ran his hand over the bulge of trapped fuck-meat.
Deathstroke couldn't answer, not in words. He could only moan as Changeling leaned down and licked the wet spot where the assassin's leaking cockhead pressed against the fabric.
`Gnugh!" Deathstroke gurgled.
Changeling laughed again and asked, "You want this big dick sucked, Slade? Do you want my hot mouth to make love to that horse-cock? Tell me how bad you want me to use my mouth on your pole, Slade."
Deathstroke wriggled his hips, a last ditch attempt by his embattled rational mind to escape the insidious trap they found themselves in. Whatever he tried, though, his subconscious mind, spurred on by the powerful turn-on drug, overpowered him, and finally he could only nod his head, panting.
"Oh oh oh!" he groaned as Changeling mouthed his rod.
"Words, Slade. Tell me in words."
"Oh, fuck, yeah. Do it! Suck my cock, you punk!"
"Say `Please'."
Deathstroke was weeping now, "P..p..p..please!"
Gently, one might almost say lovingly, Changeling pulled back on the waistband of Deathstroke's orange trunks and released the 11 inch monster, a brother to his own big dick.
"Yeah," Changeling sighed as he pressed his face into Deathstroke's crotch, mouthing the base of the shaft, "That is what I always wanted to see. Always wanted to taste!"
"God!" Deathstroke cried out as Changeling kissed his way up the shaft and took the purple plum of his cockhead into his green mouth, "Suck me, you slut, you trollop, you whore! Suck my cock!"
"There's too much," Changeling whined, "I think I need help!"
Which was the cue for Jericho to disengage from the shifter's body. Both boys, crouching side by side, now began to lavish oral attention on the assassin's meat.
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Meanwhile Green Arrow walked up to his once-upon-a-time protégé and pulled him to his feet.
"Roy," the elder archer breathed as he pressed a hot kiss on the redheaded sex-slave.
"Ollie," Speedy sighed, and he wrapped his arms around the older man's hard body.
While they kissed, hands went after the other's cock, rubbing away at the shaft they found. 9 inches jutted up out of Speedy's tights, but 9 more were trapped in Arrow's. Speedy took his hand from Arrow's distended package and reached up to start unfastening his mentor's jerkin. He shoved it back off the older man's shoulders, baring his chest just enough to uncover the vigilante's hard nipples which Speedy immediately began to suck, chew, and tongue.
"Ohhhhhh!"
The role of master and student had clearly changed, and Green Arrow hung like a rag doll in Speedy's masterful embrace. When Speedy's tongue rasped over the sensitive tip of a nipple, he could feel Arrow's cock leap in the confines of his tights.
"Oh, fuck, Roy!" Arrow whimpered, "Fuck! So.. Need.. So.. Fuck!"
The green jerkin fell away, and Speedy was able to ease Arrow's tights down over his ass so that the elder archer's arching shaft fell out. The former sidekick used his hands to smear Arrow's precum over the sensitive tip of his cock before breaking free and turning his back on his mentor. Tearing the hole in the ass of his own red tights further open, Speedy said, over his shoulder, "Fuck me, Ollie! Push me up against the wall and give me the no-holds-barred back-alley fuck-down you always wanted to. The fuck-down I always wanted you to!"
Without wasting a second on thought, Arrow did just that. He pushed Speedy roughly up against the back wall of the stage and rammed 9 inches of hard vigilante dick into the formerly forbidden hole.
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Robin, still on all fours, looked up and shook his head. He knew he was supposed to be putting on a show, but something had gone wrong. Something. What? He looked around, and there, not more than six feet away, stood the object of Robin's boyhood obsession. Batman. Back before Robin had discovered girls and confirmed that he liked fucking them, the Boy Wonder had had more than a few erotic dreams featuring his gruff, unapproachable mentor. Hell, he'd even concocted a dozen sexual fantasy scenarios in which some supervillain had made him the Boy Hostage just so Batman could come to the rescue and make all-encompassing love to his sexually-awakening body after they were clear of the villain's lair. (If you knew the URL, you could even find several of the stories online still.)
And here Batman was, coming to Robin's rescue for real. And the evidence of his mentor's lustful intent was obvious (as obvious as Robin always imagined it would be) where the batcock forced the black satin of his trunks away from his crotch. Fuck. The Boy Wonder knew he just had to take advantage of this opportunity in case it never happened again. Robin put one hand forward, then another, and another, and crawled provocatively towards his mentor.
"Robin... Dick," Batman gasped as for the last time he tried to assert control over his mutinous body, "What are you doing?!"
"Something we both always wanted," Robin confessed as he reached the Dark Knight and came to his knees before him.
The 10 inch bulge in Batman's trunks was hypnotic.
"I always wondered..." Robin said as he reached out to encompass the prodigious bulge in his palm.
"Dick, no!" Batman groaned as Robin hefted his suddenly heavy balls before moving on to stroke the rigid batpole.
"Dick, yes," Robin said as he began to mouth the shiny black fabric. Robin, in his stories, always likened the skin that clung to a hard dick to silky-smooth satin, and that irony was not lost on him as he moved on from mouthing to licking the fabric hiding the massive shaft.
"Batman," the Boy Wonder sighed, "Let me have that hard cock. Let me show you what I can do with the batcock!"
Batman could only groan, which Robin elected to take as a `Take me, you fool; what are you waiting for?'.
The Boy Wonder pulled at the leg of Batman's trunks and carefully extracted the heavy shaft (while leaving his mentor's balls still caught inside their satiny pouch). He stared at cockhead before skimming the foreskin back and taking the swollen knob into his mouth.
"Fuck!" Batman cried as Robin began to swallow his shaft, inch by maddeningly slow inch.
The Caped Crusader's junk slowly became fully embedded in his oldest chum's accommodating throat, and the Boy Wonder began to do things, wonderful things, to his 10 inches. Batman had never thought a throat could do to a cock what Robin clearly was--and that even though a fair share of women had given Bruce Wayne expert blow jobs over the years. Batman's fingers curled in the Boy Wonder's raven locks, holding his head in place while the Dark Knight's last shred of resolve fled, and he began to fuck the teen's mouth. No, not fuck, and not mouth. Batman was giving into a brutal core of his being and was raping Robin's skull, smashing his throat to a pulp as he pounded away with his batlance.
"Dick!" Batman moaned as his corona rode the tight flesh of his former ward's oral tract.
Robin gurgled, and saliva and other sex juices ran down his chin, staining the teen hero's iconic red jerkin. The teen's hands reached around and found purchase on the batcheeks, holding on for dear life for the duration of the ride. Coney Island had nothing like this!
Batman stopped just shy of cumming and looked down in awe at his old chum. Robin had released his own cock, a man's cock Batman noticed, and had been beating it furiously as the Dark Knight had had his way with the teen's oral pussy.
"Dick?" Batman said, pleading.
"Fuck me, Batman!" the Boy Wonder said. He had been praying the Dark Knight would give up face-fucking eventually and move on to breeding him some sidekick boy-pussy, "Use those 10 inches on my ass, Sir. Breed my Boy Wonder ass!"
Robin turned around and presented his alluring butt. Tearing the hole in the green fabric of his trunks further open, he said, "What are you waiting for, Batman?! Fuck me! Fuck me now!"
Batman fell to his knees behind his former sidekick and proceeded to prove to anybody capable of seeing it why the pair deserved their title of Dynamic Duo.
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Meanwhile...