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Zoey In Distress	By : tooshoes Category: G through L > Gotham Views: 4241 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Gotham, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
I burst through the door and intend to run away until I can’t run anymore, but Selina only runs about 100 feet and shouts, “Hey, slow down, Alice!”
I look around as we decelerate, and I see that nobody is following us.
“Am I running too fast?” I ask as I slow down.
“Of course not,” Selina says as she catches up and grabs the bikini bottom out of my hand and immediately stops to put it on. “But nobody is following us, and I’d rather not be streaking through the streets of Gotham wearing only my shoes.”
“Oh,” I say. “I didn’t think he’d give up chasing me so fast.”
“Why not?” Selina asks, covering her tits with her hands. “He finally figured out that you aren’t Alice. I hope you figured that out, too. Are you going to wear that thing, or are you going to keep running around naked? I know being naked is no big deal for you.”
Selina was pointing at the tunic in my hands, which I had forgotten about. It barely counts as clothing, but I pull it over my head and squeeze into it. Selina looks disappointed. Apparently she was hoping I wouldn’t want it so she could wear it herself and wouldn’t need to constantly hold her hands over her tits.
“Now you owe me two sets of clothes,” she says. Then she grabs my hand and drags me into an alley. “Come on, let’s get off the street.”
“Where should we go now?” I ask while rubbing my palms against my thighs.
Selina snaps, “What do you mean by ‘we’? There is no ‘we’. There never was.”
I frown. “Oh. I thought …”
“You thought what? Because we fucked back there that we are suddenly friends or something? Well, news flash, I was hypnotized. Basically you raped me. OK, last night, I stood by while Barbara raped you, so I guess that makes us even, but how the hell does that make us friends?”
“I was hypnotized, too. I didn’t have a choice, either,” I pout.
“I don’t buy it,” Selina fires back. “It sounded to me like you talked him into including me in your sick fantasies.”
“I thought you wanted the same thing before he got there,” I explain while rubbing my thighs harder. “At least you got off. You guys just left me hanging.”
Selina looks shocked. “Is that why you are doing that with your hands? Damn Zoey! That’s some slutty shit!”
I wince and look away, feeling the tears coming back, and I really don’t want to cry. “I told you about that stuff I drank. I can’t help it.”
Selina shakes her head. “I’m not buying that, either. You were fucking horny as hell, but I didn’t see any special powers. Your ass is still red and hasn’t healed at all. I think that potion you took has worn off, and this is all just you being a horny bitch.”
I shake my head, but I can’t explain it. Maybe she’s right. Time had barely slowed down at all even while she was eating me out, and my ass still feels really sore. “I’m sorry. Maybe you are right. I just really like you …” I say, starting to cry.
Selina’s expression softens when she sees my tears, but her words hit hard. “What do you want, Zoey? You want pity sex because you didn’t get a happy ending?”
“Why are you being mean?” I cry. “I know you wanted it in there, too. You weren’t a robot or anything.”
Selina sneers at me, shaking her head, then starts walking away, saying, “I don’t hate you, Zoey, but you need help, and I can’t give it to you. Don’t you dare tell Bruce about any of this!” Suddenly she darts away from me, and I begin to chase after her, but she leaps effortlessly and grabs onto a fire escape and quickly sprints to the roof and is gone.
I stand below the fire escape but don’t even try jumping. I’m amazed that anyone could make that jump.
I lean against the building and try to collect myself and try to understand why I’m so upset.
I feel like I felt before, in the club, when Jervis rejected me. I felt my heart breaking, and it took everything out of me. Now I feel the same way. I’ve fallen in love with Selina, too, and now that she’s rejected me, it’s devastating. It’s like all of the good things that potion gave me are gone, but the emotional chaos it brings remains.
I walk down the alley, not at all sure where to go. I can’t go back to the club, at least not while Jervis is there. I can’t go back to Wayne Manor and have Bruce see me like this. Maybe I’ll go back to the hospital and wait for Marilyn to wake up, but that might take a whole day.
Besides, I’m not feeling well. Maybe the hospital is the best place for me, now. My nose won’t stop running, I’m sweating like crazy, and my legs feel jittery. I’m a complete mess.
I believe that I must look as unattractive as I feel right now. Maybe that’s why Selina and Jervis both pushed me away. I’m afraid to look in a mirror. My looks had always been the only thing that gave me confidence, and if I’ve lost that… I don’t want to think about it.
When I get to the end of the alley, I am confronted with a well lit street. It is only about 10 PM and Gotham has a healthy night life, so there is plenty of foot traffic still about. Feeling really down about myself, I want to get past here as quickly as possible, and the only option I see is a narrow passageway a block away and across the street. Maybe if I walk naturally then other pedestrians will mind their own business and not notice that my tunic is basically a fishnet.
Of course, as soon as I leave the alley, that hope is dashed. I imagine the street lights are following me, like search lights, and just about everyone’s eyes follow along almost as soon as I step into the open.
“Well, hello there!” says one intregued man as I hurry by him. One girl smacks her boyfriend in the head for looking at me too long. Two large working workers give me a cat call when I finally reach the new alley and slip out of their view.
Once off the main street again, I lean against the building, hidden by the shadows.
I take a deep breath.
But what I feel is not relief.
I feel excitement coming back, and I don’t know what to make of it. I feel like an addict who was going through withdrawl and then suddenly gets a taste of their precious drug again.
And oh does it feel good!
Does that mean the powers are back, too?
Feeling curious, I lift the hem of my tunic and squeeze my ass, wondering if the welts from Jervis’ belt have healed or not. My ass feels sensitive, but I don’t feel any pain, and I can’t actually see my ass without a mirror, so I stroke it up and down. I can’t tell if the redness is gone, but I like the way it feels.
Then I notice that a man is peeking around the corner of the alley watching me.
The surprise spikes my excitement, and the I’m afraid of how fast and how easily I’m swept up in that horny high again. I cover my face and run down the passageway away from him, and time slows down dramatically.
The passageway then ends at a wider, perpendicular alley that is almost wide enough to be a street, but it is empty at this time of night. The neighborhood seems to take pride in this alley, keeping it clean and friendly to pedestrians, though it is vacant this late at night. The alley is intermittedly lit by lights shining down from the adjacent buildings, but punctuated by shadows where the light is blocked from clothes and sheets hanging from clotheslines.
I pause at the intersection and look around. I’m alone, now.
A wooden bench and table are fixed into the ground near the intersection, and cigarette butts litter around the fixtures.
The bench is half in light and half in shadow, and I sit on the darker half of the bench and I pause to take account of my feelings.
I’m confused. Selina and Jervis each worked my instruments and my heart for several minutes, but they could never get me past second gear. Yet a peeping tom revved my engine and would have taken me to the promised land, if I had given him a chance.
It doesn’t make sense. What did he have that Selina and Jervis did not?
I ponder the question, but I don’t wait for an answer. My body is craving satisfaction, and shame is becoming less of a consideration. I massage my clit with one hand and my left breast with the other, and I let my fingers and fantasies take over.
And then I pause as the answer is suddenly clear. These are my fantasies that are moving me so strongly right now. These are my passions and my lust. In the club, what I felt and desired were Jervis’s feelings and desires being forced into my mind. It didn’t matter if those desires were compatible with mine or not; my heart would not make that climb to the peak for someone else’s passion.
Now, working my clit on this public bench, I’m totally free to feel my own feelings, even if those feelings are enhanced by a crazy lust drug or virus infecting my blood. That doesn’t matter. That drug is now a part of me. I can no more be free of that than I can be free from my own mind.
So this is who I am now, and I’m fine with that for the moment, so long as it FINALLY gets me off. That’s all I really care about now.
I don’t need a partner to set me free. I can do it myself.
My body craves a quick release, but I want to take it slow. I’ve already endured the suspense, and I don’t want to end it in a quick bang. I want to relish it. If I take it slow, I can make it feel like hours.
Time slows down, but not slow enough, because I don’t get very far before I hear a door open only about thirty feet away, and then a crashing sound against some trash cans.
Fuck! I think, wondering if I’ll ever get off tonight. I stand up from the bench and hide in the shadows, peeking around a drain pipe.
I see a man struggling with a woman in the alley. He is pressing her head against a brick wall and pushing down her pants.
Time is moving slowly, and the man is not very big.
I can take him, I think. I’m stupid for even thinking that, but after being shamed by Selina, I feel like I need to do something good. Helping this stranger should make me feel better about myself.
Like a total idiot, I step out into the light and shout, “Let her go!”
Then I remember that I’m only dressed in a nearly see through tunic and wonder-land slips, and I have second thoughts of this superhero plan.
I don’t recognize the predator, but he seems to recognize me. “You’re that stripper from the bar! I put a dollar on the stage and you gave me nothing. I guess the bomb made a bigger impression. Well, I guess it’s time for me to collect with interest!”
He pushes his victim aside and rushes towards me, instead. I easily parry his slow-motion attack and knock him down at the same time. He gets up and tries again, without much affect, giving me a burst of confidence and excitement, but the excitement isn’t sexual at all, and I feel that time is speeding up to normal. It’s like confidence kills my powers, and gives my opponent a fighting chance – it’s fucked up. I’d better dispatch him quickly, I think.
But as I’m about to attack, I stop, because the door opens again and another man appears behind him, and the new figure has no face. He’s wearing a burlap mask that looks like it’s sewn together by a madman.
I feel a shiver run down my spine. This is enough for me. I don’t even think. I turn around and try to follow the girl I just rescued out of the alley.
Except that a third man is now standing there. He must have walked up behind me. His face is white with red hair and red lipstick dramatically painted on to make him look like a psychotic clown. He laughs like that criminal Jerome who died recently.
The man I was fighting stands up, wipes blood off of his noise, and he points at me, saying, “Hey, boss, it’s that bitch from the club.”
“Is this man bothering you, young lady?” the clown asks.
I’m cowering in between the three men with no place to back up to. In answer to his question, I nod my head like a frightened little girl. My powers are all but gone.
Suddenly, the clown raises a pistol and fires it at the head of the man I was just fighting, dropping him instantly to the ground.
I scream at the sound of the gunshot and back up until my shoulders bump against the brick wall behind me. I’m too afraid to look at the clown.
“No ‘thank you’?” he asks, disappointed. “Very rude, you know.”
Finally I look at him and weakly say, “Thank you.”
“That’s better,” he says with an even bigger smile. “So you are that dancer? The girl they are calling Peril?”
I blink. How does everyone suddenly know that name. I dare to contradict. “My name is Zoey.”
He bites his lip and looks away for a second, as if deep in thought, then he says. “Nah, Zoey doesn’t suit you. That name means ‘life,’ doesn’t it? No, Peril is a much better name for someone like you, especially right now, when life must feel so precious.”
That scares the shit out of me, but I feel paralyzed. I know I should try to fight my way out of this, or at least try to run away, but my mind has settled on the freeze response, and it won’t listen to reason.
“This is quite a crime fighting costume you have here,” he says as he takes a step back to look my body over.
His eyes look hungry, and I feel my pussy aching in response. But I’m not embarrassed by my lustful reaction this time. This could be my way out. Maybe this clown is right, and I should be wearing so little all the time. I feel time slowing and my confidence rising, as he lifts the hem of my tunic and turns me around to get the full picture.
“Hey Scary,” he says to the faceless man as he lifts my tunic up over my tits. “What do you think we can do with this?”
While they both admire my assets, I spin around and hit the clown with an elbow, which knocks him backwards. Then I kick him in the chest as he falls. Although I strike him right where I want to, he reaches out with his hand and bumps my leg as it hits, sending me off balance backwards.
I’m not moving fast enough. Maybe I should have let them play around with me a little more, I think.
Then I feel a hand reach around my head and hold a cloth to my face.
I panic, thinking it’s chloroform, and I fight to get away before I faint.
I escape his grasp easily, but the vapor in my lungs is not what I expected.
It’s worse.
It’s some kind of dark magic. Now, I’m Alice in Terror-land.
The world around me is shaking.
The exteriors of the buildings turn to putrified flesh, crawling with worms.
I fall onto my ass and try to wriggle backwards, away from the giant cackling mouth that now stands over me.
Behind the mouth is a faceless octopus that grabs both of my legs and holds them still like vice-grips.
The two monsters roar at each other, then they lift me in the air and roughly drop me on something hard a few feet away.
I don’t know if I’m scared silent or yelling like a scream queen. All I hear is the sound of the laughter.
I close my eyes, but I can’t block them from my vision, as though I can see right through my eyelids.
Two more cackling mouth-monsters appear, and the laughing gets louder.
A pair of tentacles grabs my wrists and hold them tight, while another pair grabs my calves and forces my legs apart, stretching me like I’m a wishbone and presenting my pussy like a gift to the monster waiting between my legs.
The next moment lasts a long time, and my ever-ready pussy aches and waters, like a mouth anticipating a meal.
Finally, the meal is served as a tentacle thrusts deep inside my pussy, and the indecent chain reaction begins.
My hands are suddenly free, as another tentacle is thrust into my mouth while my head is held tight. I raise my hands to push the tentacle away, but my hands pause mid-air, hesitating, because my terror is slowly turning into curiousity and desire.
An anaconda wraps around my waist and lifts my ass in the air, and then something probes my anus, while a new tentacle probes my pussy. Then, all at once, each invader thrusts into all three holes as if synchronized. The one in my ass makes me cry out, because that part of me was virgin and barely lubricated. But the difference between pain and pleasure is beginning to blur.
The tentacle in my mouth squirts before it pulls out and and then spits the rest of its load on my face.
A moment later, the creepy, cackling mouth once again is looking me right in the eyes. Except everything that was creepy before is now exciting.
I’m beginning to see things for what they are, again.
I blink my eyes, and the huge mouth morphs back into the clown, who is staring in my eyes as he slaps my tits like a little boy with toys, just to see them bounce.
I grab his head and press my mouth on those beautiful, grotesque lips, and then I stick my tongue inside his mouth, against his tongue, giving him my first ever snowball kiss.
His eyes open wide in shock, then disgust, then hysterical laughter.
He jumps up and hops around in insane delierium with his pants down by his ankles, while another man moves in to take his place, filling my mouth again with a fresh dick.
The fear drug is now defeated completely by my insatiable, slutty nature, but I am no less of a captive to my feelings.
I am no longer a victim; I am the monster.
I came into this alley to get off, and that is what I intend to do. More than once.
I squeeze my tits while three men still have their way with me. Shame and pride and pleasure and pain and hate and love all squeeze into my body in a single moment, radiating from my pussy and nipples and mouth, building and building towards a moment of critical mass.
And then everything hits in a series of big bangs, one after the other, each making my body convulse and cry out.
I ride that wave of lust and fire until time seems to completely stop and my mind finally returns to me in that fleeting moment of utter peace that arrives after the passion spontaniously combusts, freeing my mind and soul.
With time standing still, I look around and account for what had just happened, what is still happening, and what I had done.
I’m laying face down on the table in the alley with my legs hanging over the edge and onto the bench. A heavyset man is standing between my legs and is thrusting into my rear and reigning me in by pulling my hair. The other men appear to have had their fill and have stepped away. Cum is dripping from my mouth and thighs and hair. The situation could not be any more degrading.
Even knowing this, I still feel at peace. I don’t even feel dirty.
I feel blessed.
My heart seems to be beating very slowly, but in reality, it might be racing.
Finally, one thought disturbs my peace.
Once again, I’ve been raped. It doesn’t matter that I was complicit in the end. It doesn’t matter that I totally got off on it. What bothers me is what these men thought they were doing to me. They thought they were destroying me.
After being taken against my will twice in the past two days, I am no longer willing to say no harm, no foul. After Barbara slapped the name Peril on me, the word has already spread in just one day, and everyone now sees me as an easy prey, and if I let this slide, my reputation will slide even further, if that is possible.
So, while time is still on my side, I decide to act.
The man who is still in my ass must remain unsatisfied.
I reach between my legs and when he again slams into my rear, I grab his balls and squeeze them hard. He immediately lets go of my hair and dismounts.
By the time I’m standing, the other three men realize that something is wrong, but I leap towards the largest man before he knows how to respond. I see him raising his arms to his chest defensively, so I kick him in the balls instead, which he leaves undefended.
Then I have a crazy thought: I’d better stop targeting these mens’ balls, or I’ll be called a ball-buster.
The clown is now jumping towards me from behind, grasping at my arm, but I fling my elbow backward and it cracks against his cheek. He stumbles, and I spin around, ready to hit his head again with my other fist, but he’s already raising his hands to block that strike, so I redirect my attack to his solar plexus, and he collapses to the ground in a heap. His laughter dies in the air, and his painted smile looks pathetic, now, and I actually utter, “Aww,” because while I’m delivering righteous judgement, my twisted mind affectionately remembers that snowball kiss a moment ago.
The man with no face, seeing the change in fortunes, turns to run away; but his burlap mask restricts his vision, so he trips over a barrel of trash when attempting to escape.
I punch him so hard in the back of his head that I twist my wrist real good, so I pause to rub my wrist and relax, knowing that justice is served and that my wrist will heal very quickly, maybe even before I come down from this high.
Suddenly, I hear a thud and I spin around.
I’m stunned to see Selina standing over the now unconscious clown. She’s kicking a switchblade away from his hand.
“Looks like you’ve got your mojo back”, she says, “But next time, don’t turn your back on a guy unless you’re sure he’s down.”
Selina is wearing a kid-size, Gotham Knights t-shirt over the white bikini bottom she had snagged from me earlier.
“Where did you come from?” I ask.
“Up here,” she says, then she climbs up the side of building and grabs a bathrobe from a clothes line and tosses it to me. “Take this. You need it.”
“Were you following me?” I ask.
Selina looks away. “Bruce would never forgive me if I let you die out here.”
“You saw everything?” I ask nervously while I slip out of the now ruined tunic and slip into the terry cloth robe.
“Sure did, you perv,” she says without a hint of humor. “You’re one sick kitten, but that was a nice thing you did, helping out that girl. Stupid, but nice.”
I hold the robe tightly to my body, not out of modesty but because I can’t understand why Selina is talking to me this way and it makes me nervous.
“Sorry about what I said, earlier,” Selina adds while kicking the knife again playfully. “You should come back to my place and clean up.”
I wait for her to look at me, but she keeps looking away, so finally I ask, “Really?”
“Yeah,” she replies, and suddenly she starts climbing the building again. “If you can keep up.”
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Zoey In Distress