Birds of Prey - Twisted Desire Ch. 08

Chapter Twenty

Laid Bare

The softball coach beckoned Dinah to follow. And despite every part of her brain telling her that it was a bad idea, Dinah followed.

Lilith led Dinah further into the depths of the Brotherhood stronghold, taking them down a hallway behind the main staircase. Dinah kept some distance, her eyes laser-focused on her guide's back. Much of it was exposed thanks to her backless dress and Dinah watched as the toned muscles worked and shifted beneath her smooth skin. And lower, Dinah noted how pleasantly the red silk conformed to the firm swells of her hips and ass.

Every woman the Brotherhood ensnares looks like a goddamn supermodel...

They continued down the hidden hallway. It was dimly lit by candles held upon sconces, every flicker of those tiny flames causing the shadows to waver and contract. It made Dinah feel like she was surrounded, thin figures of darkness hidden in the walls, waiting for their moment to strike. The portraits that lined the walls didn't help things, either.

They were paintings of men, Dinah noted. Some were old, with weathered faces and wrinkled hair. Others were grown men, with hard, masculine features. But they all possessed the same kind of eyes: Hungry. Ambitious. Possessive. Like they owned everything in the room... And everyone.

Some of the paintings looked to be pretty old. As in, last century old. The implication of that did not sit well with Dinah at all. Barbara had told her that the Kingston Brotherhood was long-lived as a secret boys' club. But the blonde brawler hadn't paid that any mind at the time. Now? Every step she took further into the Brotherhood's shadow made Dinah grow that much more anxious.

Finally, Lilith brought Dinah to a black-painted door. The Brotherhood thrall threw Dinah a warm smile and opened it... revealing a bedroom. Same as the hallway, it was candlelit and cast with a warm but dim glow. But the candles were not what caught Dinah's eye.

The blonde's focus was drawn to the bed. Not the bed itself - though it was an impressive four-poster with pink silk drapes hanging from its wooden canopy - but rather the clothing that was laid out upon it.

Dinah stared at the garb that sat waiting upon the bed. The blonde tried to think of something snarky to say, to even have a thought of defiance. But there was nothing but numb resignation. This was happening. This was real.

The sound of the bedroom door closing shut took Dinah by surprise, making her flinch. She felt a heat burn across her cheeks, some of it from embarrassment but mostly from anger at herself. The Black Canary was the hardest, toughest honey in Gotham. And she had almost squealed like some bimbo in a cheap horror flick.

Lilith came around and stood by the bed, still smiling. Dinah was starting to get sick of the smiling.

The softball coach gestured towards the clothing on the bed, but kept her glazed-over eyes locked on Dinah.

"Tonight, you will dress as Brother Reston instructs you." The other woman spoke gently, pleasantly. She was happy to lead Dinah into servitude. It was not her fault. Dinah knew that. But the blonde still felt the urge to knock some teeth loose. Lilith took a moment to glance at the outfit Reston had prepared. "I must admit, he has impeccable taste."

Dinah stepped up the foot of the bed, staring down at the lingerie Matthew Reston had all but ordered her to wear.

A black lace strapless corset. Black lace thong. Fishnet stockings. Black knee-high boots, with a glossy shine and heels. A black band choker. And a black, cropped leather jacket - from the looks of things, it would only go down to her ribs.

Scanty it certainly was. But that wasn't what gave Dinah pause. She'd worn sexy outfits for the pleasure of male company before. And she'd done the same to distract male targets. What set off warning sirens in Dinah's brain was that she'd been wearing her own variation of the lingerie set for years. It wasn't just a sexy get-up that was laid out on the bed. It was a kinky version of her Black Canary outfit.

Dinah didn't feel shame. Nor did she feel angry. What she did feel was a jolt of fear. White hot lightning striking at her heart. She cast wide eyes towards Lilith, who stood with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Tonight's theme is superheroines." The other woman said, giggling. "Isn't that fun?"

That kept Dinah from panicking. But it did nothing to rid her of the sense of dread that coiled in her belly, in her bones. It slithered just under her skin and burrowed deep. She couldn't fight it. And she had come too far to turn back. The only way through was to keep going until the end.

Dinah breathed in deep. Then she reached out and plucked the lace thong from the bed. As she held it up to look closer, she saw that some of the fabric in the intricate pattern was sheer. The damn thing would actually cover even less skin than it appeared to.

The Black Canary... Badass superheroine... Turned into some punk teen's sexpot dress-up doll...

The blonde couldn't even muster enough fiery spirit to scowl at the lingerie set out for her. She sighed and tossed the thong back onto the bed... And warily noted that the enthralled softball coach still stood at the bedside, leaning against one of the wooden posts. The woman had her eyes locked on Dinah. Before, it was creepy. But now the brawler was starting to get annoyed.

"Do you mind?" Dinah asked pointedly.

But rather than look bashful or shamed, Lilith only laughed. It was a warm, rich, lovely sound. And Dinah hated it. She knew it wasn't really Lilith. It was a juvenile sex fantasy of Lilith. The same as it was with Helena and every other adult woman at this fucked up school.

The other woman took on an amused expression. She pushed off from the bedpost and moved in close, deliberately taking some of Dinah's personal space. Dinah caught the scent of perfume, sweet and heavy in her nostrils. It was almost dizzying. Then Lilith's hands were at the front of Dinah's waist, slender fingers undoing the button and zipper of her pants. Dinah stepped back, but Lilith was in step with her. Before Dinah could even register what was happening, the brunette was kneeling, tugging Dinah's jeans down her toned, shapely legs.

Perhaps Dinah was too shocked to argue or fight back. Or perhaps she simply had too little fight left in her to waste on Lilith. But the woman was taking liberties that the Black Canary would have broken bones for. And Dinah just let it happen. Obediently, Dinah used her feet to slide her shoes off and stepped out of her pants when they bunched up at her ankles.

She stood there, silent, sullen, and half-naked. Lilith rose to her feet then, humming pleasantly as she took Dinah's hands in hers.

"Weren't you listening, love?" The Brotherhood thrall hummed sweetly. She stared into Dinah's eyes, her own gaze alight with excitement and flirty zeal. And it was then that Dinah could see just how complete and total the Brotherhood's dominion was. Lilith's lips curled into a smirk, her voice lowering into a purr. "I'm here to lend new girls like you a helping hand."

Then she was pulling Dinah's hoodie up, drawing the sweater over her trim belly, her bust, then finally up over her head. Again, Dinah did not struggle or fight back. Just as with her pants, the blonde raised her arms up and allowed herself to be disrobed.

Lilith held the hoodie for a moment, tittering. Like she was amused at Dinah's choice of wardrobe. The softball coach reached down and scooped up Dinah's discarded jeans as well, rolling them both up in her arms... And tossing them away into the far corner of the room. The message was clear, not just in her actions but in the woman's eyes as well: You won't be needing those dull threads ever again.

Dinah stood, unmoving and unflinching. Now clad in only a simple white bra and matching panties, much of her body was exposed to the cool air. The candles that lit the room did little to provide any sense of warmth. Goosebumps prickled up her arms, her back, her neck. But if Lilith could sense her discomfort she didn't show it. The brunette closed the distance between them, slinking forward while wearing an infuriatingly pleased smirk.

The blonde brawler said nothing, did nothing as the sporty beauty reached out to run her fingers softly over her taut tummy. Lilith gave a delighted hum, appreciation clear on her rosy face. She began to slowly circle Dinah, dragging her fingertips across her exposed skin as she did so. Lilith's touch was warm, electric, and sent shivers down Dinah's back. Dinah hated it.

But even as Lilith came to a stop behind her, placing her hands on Dinah's bare shoulders, the undercover superheroine simply bit her tongue and endured. There would be a time for action, Dinah told herself, a time when the Black Canary could repay the Brotherhood in kind for what they had put her through. But that time was not now.

Then Dinah felt a pair of lips at the back of her neck. Gentle, flower-petal kisses that were more teasing than sensual. But the intimate touch upon her sensitive, vulnerable neck had the blonde knockout letting out a shocked, shuddering gasp.

Perhaps Lilith knew how Dinah loved getting touched. Or perhaps it was just a handsy woman getting a lucky guess. It didn't matter in the end. Dinah felt a shameful shock of pleasure all the same. It struck like a bolt of lightning, rolling down her neck, her back, sinking into the pit of her belly where it burst into a smoldering flame. A flame that would only grow larger, if Dinah's luck continued on its downward spiral.

There was a twisting and coiling in Dinah's belly. It made her shudder, even in her bones. She thought that this might have been where Lilith's liberties ended. But the other woman's hands then descended from Dinah's shoulders to cup her breasts through her bra...

"Hmm." Dinah inhaled sharply, swallowing a moan as she felt Lilith's fingers sink into her soft flesh. They pressed into her nipples through the bra cups, sending another bolt of pleasure striking into her core. Dinah let out a shaky breath, turning her head to send a hard look back towards the brunette. "I'm guessing you like your job?"

"I love it." Lilith purred back. "And Brother Reston is going to love you. That is if he hasn't already."

Lilith's hands retreated, falling away from her breasts. Dinah thought she might have a moment of respite from the woman's invasive touch. But then she felt Lilith's hands working at her back. An instant later, Dinah's bra loosened.

The blonde swallowed her rage, but the embers still burned in her gut. She did nothing as Lilith slid the straps off of her shoulders. The cups dropped from her breasts and the garment fell at her feet. Then Lilith's hands were on her again, groping her bare tits. Dinah stifled a moan as the woman's fingers ran over her nipples - her hard nipples.

Dinah let loose a shuddering breath as Lilith's lips danced across her neck. Without thinking, the blonde pushed her pert rear back into the other woman's groin, wiggling her panty-clad bottom across her lap. She caught herself a second later, shameful heat blooming across her cheeks. Dinah scowled at herself, fuming. Then she heard Lilith's honeyed voice pouring into her ear again.

"I can't keep my hands off you. Imagine how wild you'll drive Brother Reston when you show up wearing that." Lilith giggled, pointing Dinah towards the perversion of the iconic Black Canary outfit.

The woman pressed one last kiss to the back of Dinah's neck. Then the blonde felt her hands slide away from her tits and the warmth of her body fall down her back. Dinah felt Lilith's hands on her waist next, her nimble fingers hooking themselves under the waistline of Dinah's panties. The blonde brawler's heart thundered in her chest as she felt Lilith remove the last stitch of clothing on her body, sliding the white panties down her legs.

Dinah stood naked. Completely bare and vulnerable. The superheroine's heart was racing, but she couldn't tell if it was because of fear, because of anger... Or because of excitement.

She didn't get the chance to dwell on it. There came a painful, pleasurable sting accompanied by a loud SMACK as Lilith slapped her palm against Dinah's bare ass. The blonde gave a decidedly unheroic squeal as she stumbled forward towards the bed, reflexively reaching to cup her poor bottom. She cast a dark look back towards the other woman, but did little else.

Lilith only smiled. There was no hint of shame or remorse in the softball coach's eyes. The brunette nodded towards the lingerie on the bed. The message was clear: Get on with it.

There were a number of colorful words Dinah had in mind for Lilith, for the nightmare she found herself in. But she swallowed them all down.

Gathering her nerve, she reached out and lifted the leather jacket from the ensemble. It was cropped - a half-jacket that was considerably smaller than the padded one she wore as the Black Canary. No, the jacket she held was crafted for form, not function. It was designed to make the wearer look hot and sexy, first and foremost.

Dinah turned the leather half-jacket over, inspecting it. It even had the yellow-and-black Canary logo emblazoned on the back.

I guess they went all-out for the superheroine theme, Dinah thought, frowning.

She turned the jacket over again... and noted something peculiar.

"This jacket is broken." She said flatly, holding it out towards Lilith. "It doesn't have a zipper."

But Lilith only gave a gentle laugh. Dinah was starting to really hate the sound.

"No, it doesn't." The brunette agreed, drawing her eyes up Dinah's nude form. There was desire there, Dinah could feel it. "Tonight's ceremony is a celebration of beauty, Miss Blake. Why would we ever want you to hide yours away?"

- - -

Chapter Twenty One

Deeper

Her entry point would be one of the second story windows. More often than not, they weren't locked. And she was pleased to discover that was indeed the case for Timm Hall. A small stroke of luck, even if the windows were a bit small.

It was times like these where Barbara's - Batgirl's - slim body was a benefit. Slowly, carefully, she slid through the narrow gap the open window offered. She eased her long, lithe legs through first. For a moment, she was afraid that her hips might have been too wide, but she managed to squeeze them through the narrow frame as well.

All she needed now was to ground herself for support. Tenderly, she touched down onto the floor with the toe-tips of her yellow boots. Just barely a foothold, but it was all Batgirl needed for balance.

The benefits of being a gymnast...

The rest of it was child's play. In no time at all, she was in.

Quietly, she closed the window shut behind her. The masked vigilante gave a huff through her nose, a mixture of pride and expelled nerves. Flawlessly executed infiltrations were something she would never get tired of.

Barbara stood up straight, taking in her surroundings. A large, empty office. Dark, save for the moonlight shining through the window. Plain in its set-up, with barebones furniture. Desk, chairs, bookshelf, lamp in the corner, coffee table by the door. Nothing else of note. No reason for her to remain.

Of course, there was the chance of finding valuable intel somewhere in the room. Right? Perhaps in the desk drawers or hidden away between the pages of any of the books on the bookshelf. Batman had taught her to be thorough in her investigations, after all.

But Barbara couldn't shake the feeling of urgency. It just didn't make sense to waste time scouring every inch of Timm Hall when Dinah was walking right into the Brotherhood's filthy hands.

No, Barbara decided. It was best if she moved on. Groups like the Brotherhood tended to keep their secrets guarded in places of a more impressive sort anyway.

The redhead superheroine slipped into the outside hallway. There Barbara saw that the Brotherhood HQ was as creepy as she expected it to be.

The second floor hall was dim, lit only by candlelight. The walls were painted a deep burgundy, though the glow from the candles had Barbara thinking of blood. And between each of the carved wooden columns that lined the walls were set portraits of men. Young men in particular, though that made sense. Timm Hall was essentially a fraternity house and one couldn't expect old men to be enrolled at Kingston Academy.

Barbara stared up at the paintings... and was disturbed at how the portraits seemed to stare back. Their eyes followed her. But they weren't judging her or accusing her or even hating her. The men that hung upon the walls hungered for the Batgirl. Barbara could see it in their eyes, could feel them drawing up and down her lithe body wrapped in the tight, shiny material of her stealth suit. A shudder ran down the redheads back.

Averting her eyes from the creepy paintings, Barbara continued on. But she didn't make it far before coming across a peculiar sight.

A slightly open door. Not enough for her to see what awaited her beyond the doorway, but enough to see that the light was on in the other room. And enough to hear the voices coming from the other side.

Barbara moved slowly. Carefully. Years of training had made stealth second nature. She crept up beside the slightly open door, flattening her body to the wall. The voices were clearer now, though Barbara could only barely hear what was being said.

"Couldn't keep your hands off us, cariño?" A woman's voice. Sweet and sultry. Familiar, too...

"All your fault, looking like that." Came the low, deep voice of a man. A young man, from how smooth and fresh he sounded, but a man all the same. He growled next, enough to make even Barbara feel a twinge in her lower belly. "Driving me crazy."

Barbara then heard the moans and groans that left no doubt as to their activities. Batgirl was eavesdropping on a couple getting hot and heavy. Again.

The sounds of lips meeting lips, the rustle of hands roaming over - and under - clothes, they poured into Barbara's ears, slithering inside like a snake and coiling within her. Then another woman's voice joined in, husky and alluring and so damn familiar...

"That's what we do, baby." The second woman purred, her words spilling out like warm honey. "It's our mission. We gotta keep your dick hard and your balls empty."

Realization struck Barbara like a fist to the gut. She knew those voices. She'd heard them before, all three of them! She leaned forward, her body tense and tight, inching closer to the open door. She peered inside through the narrow opening and confirmed what she so dreaded.

It was Westfield. The tall, muscled athlete who she'd almost gotten eating out of the palm of her hand. Him and the two female teachers she'd caught him with some days past. Miss Flores and Miss Jameson.

All three were on a brown leather couch, with Westfield seated in the middle. Caught between the two buxom and lustful women, the young athlete was in the furthest state of undress, naked save for the jeans that were pooled around his ankles.

Rita and Belle, the two teachers, were only marginally more covered - both of their lush, abundant bodies garbed in lingerie. Each provided a delectable sight, with Jameson's deliciously dark curves stuffed into contrasting white lace and Flores' ample body poured into a scant, satin nightie of sensual red.