Tawny and the Comic-Con Experience

I could tell he was making progress towards his orgasm, and I was torn between wanting him to finish, and hoping that somehow, in some way, he wouldn't. Letting him squirt his cum into me was a whole new level of dirty, and co-worker Tawny was ashamed by how stimulated slutty Tawny was getting at the thought of it.

To top it off, I could feel the tension of my own orgasm building, and I wasn't sure if I could hold it off if he didn't finish pretty soon. It was one thing to decide to let him fuck me, but I hadn't really considered the thought he might actually make me come. I tried to concentrate on my dislike for him, rather than how much I was being turned on by the whole degrading situation.

Brandon said, "Let's see. A real henchman of the Riddler would probably give those melons a good squeeze, wouldn't he?"

He held himself up with one arm, and squeezed my breast with the other hand. I moaned, and closed my eyes, giving him an excuse to slap the tit he'd been squeezing. Looking up at him was really turning me on. Apparently the humiliation of being fucked by a guy I didn't like, and never imagined having on top of me, playing with my tits while he enjoyed my pussy did it for me on some depraved level.

"Oh, yeah, almost there baby," he said, sounding somewhat out of breath by now.

He took his other arm off the bed and grabbed my other breast. He was now holding himself up by my tits, squeezing them tightly and pushing them up towards my face, while pressing down on them at the same time. The pain and pleasure was intense, and I moaned even louder as I tossed my head back. He was too busy to notice I wasn't looking at him, and he didn't slap my tit again like I'd hoped he would.

His thrusts became almost as hard as the first few he'd slammed me with.

"Oh, yeah, take it bitch," he yelled.

I felt his strokes change to the rhythm of his orgasm, each one timed to the spasms of his cock that shot his cum deep into my pussy.

The thought of how depraved it was for Brandon to be filling me with his cum was apparently all the trigger it took for me, and in a weird mix of dismay and pleasure, I closed my eyes and yelled into the ball gag as the orgasm I'd fought against swept through my body. My head thrashed side to side, the only thing I could move since I was tied down so tightly.

He could tell I'd obviously climaxed, and he said, "Yeah, bitch, Brandon fucked you good, didn't he?"

I kept my eyes closed -- I didn't really want to see the smug grin the tone of his voice made me sure he was wearing. I already had plenty of images of him fucking me to replay in my head when I saw him at work from now on. I lay there as my orgasm subsided, feeling as humiliated and slutty as I ever have. Not only had Brandon come in me, but I'd had an orgasm as he did it.

He pulled out, and climbed off of me. With a self-satisfied smirk on his face, he stood there looking down at the pussy he'd just fucked. I knew that to a guy like Brandon, seeing his cum dripping out of a girl was almost as satisfying as the orgasm itself.

After a moment, he said, "Going to think of you when I see that slut I work with." He gave my outstretched calf a little pat.

Was this his subtle way of saying he knows it's me? My heart skipped a beat before I realized that he was one of the least subtle people I knew. If he had figured out it was me, he'd be hooting about it non-stop. The whole time he was fucking me he'd have been telling me how he couldn't wait to tell the guys at work. No, he still just thought he saw a resemblance in our bodies. Which he did, of course.

The henchman waiting to fuck me next had been watching for a while. He said to Brandon, "Man, you sure took your time with her."

Brandon said, "Yeah, I've boned plenty of sluts at these conventions, but Batgirl here is one of the best. You're gonna enjoy her." They gave each other sideways sliding-fives as they changed places.

Then, of course, I also got fucked by henchmen number two and number three.

I was a little distracted during it, as I kept thinking "I just had a guy I work with fuck me", and "Brandon, a guy I know, and don't at like at all, just brought me to orgasm with his dick."

Oh, don't get me wrong, I enjoyed being fucked by them. It was a gang-bang after all, and I love gang-bangs. It's just that after the intensely perverse excitement I'd felt as Brandon fucked me, mere strangers felt a little less exciting than they normally did. I was deriving a naughty thrill from knowing that Brandon's cum was part of the lubrication I felt oozing around the new cocks that were plunging in and out of me.

Neither of them was as chatty as Brandon had been, nor did they care if I closed my eyes. They just seemed happy to be gang-banging a tied-down-but-willing cosplay Batgirl. So yeah, a good time was had by all, even if I was a tiny bit distracted. It was still a great show for the RPG guys, who drifted in and out of the bedroom, watching as the henchmen roughly used me as their fucktoy.

Night Three - The Riddler

The guy cosplaying The Riddler was a different story. He actually managed to get me to completely forget about what had just happened with Brandon.

The third henchman added his load of cum to my pussy, and got off the bed as the Riddler came into the bedroom, having apparently heard the guy's grunts and groans as he'd finished in me. He looked down at the growing wet spot under me that had gathered from the trickle of cum that ran down from my pussy each time a satisfied cock was removed, and said, "Riddle me this, Bat-slut. What's full of my henchmen's cum, and ready for a serious cock?"

He tilted his head, and looked at the ball gag in my mouth. "Ah, but you can't answer now, can you? Well, the answer is: You."

He removed his green tights, and I saw that unlike the guy who had been cosplaying Loki, he preferred briefs. Made sense I guess, under those tights. He took off the briefs, and I saw that no, he wasn't adding a sock for padding, that bulge was all him. His cock, while not yet erect, was already the size of most cocks when they are erect. Now, I knew that the relationship between soft and hard cocks varied, so I wasn't expecting his to double in size or anything, but since it was starting out pretty big...

"All this is for your little bat-hole," he said, as he began stroking it. He was obviously turned on by the sight of me tightly tied down spread-eagle (sorry, 'spread-bat') on the bed in front of him. His cock hardened rapidly, and I watched in amazement as it grew to an almost scary size. I can't say for sure if it's the biggest I've ever had -- I was usually in no position to grab a ruler -- but it was up there. My pussy lips were still wet with cum, and he rubbed the tip of his cock in it to add some natural lubricant.

He used his fingers to spread me open, and then slowly worked the head of his cock into my pussy. I swear he spent half a minute just getting the soft wide head inside me. His slow tease had me so excited by the thought of how it was going to feel, that I'm sure my pussy was adding its own lubrication as well.

Having his head inside my soft, warm opening excited him as well, and to my relief he sped things up. He pushed forward, and I felt my pussy stretch to accommodate the width of his cock. I've had larger things in me for sure, but there's something about being stretched and filled by a really big actual cock, all warm and real, that a dildo can't compete with.

I made a small gasping sigh, and he said, "Only half way there. Guess we'll find out how deep your bat-pussy really is."

I saw why he let his henchmen go first, as he'd have a tough time getting that thing all the way in unless a girl was good and excited first. Fortunately, I was. Watching my face intently, he shoved his cock even deeper, until finally I felt his crotch press hard against me.

"Damn," he said, sounding both pleased and surprised. "You took it all."

I had, but barely. The last little bit was just starting to become uncomfortable, so we were both happy it was all the way in me. I moaned and closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of being full of hard, warm cock. Then he started to fuck me, sliding it out maybe half way, and thrusting it back in. As he got more of a feel for my body, he began to gradually slide it further and further out each time, but always leaving a couple inches in me. Due to its girth, I think he was actually afraid of getting it back in easily if he came all the way out.

I expected him to play with my tits, or at least give them a squeeze or a slap, but he just lay on top of me, pounding away with his huge cock. I think he was so proud of it, he wanted me to not be distracted by other sensations. He was right, I was totally focused on the wonderful feeling of having my pussy so full, both width and depth.

"You like having your cunt stretched out by my big dick?" he asked-slash-boasted.

I actually nodded and moaned a little louder to answer him, too carried away by the sensations to remember I was supposed to be role-playing the reluctant Batgirl.

He was apparently excited as well, because he had also stopped role-playing The Riddler, and just sounded like a normal turned-on guy, saying, "Uh, yeah, I love it when I find a girl that lets me go all the way in. Your pussy feels great."

I didn't think about it much in the moment, but on reflection I think he was honestly happy that he could fuck me as deep and as hard as he wanted to. I bet there were plenty of women who either called a halt the minute they saw what awaited them, or even if they were game, he wasn't able to satisfy the urge to bury his cock all the way in them.

What I wanted to say was "Yes, I'm loving it too -- definitely keep fucking me." But between the ropes and the gag, all I could do was nod energetically and make little whiney noises in time with his thrusts.

If his endurance had been proportional to the size of his cock, I'm sure I would have gotten sore, but as it was, he lasted what I'd call a normal amount of time. He'd actually been fucking me slower and slower as his orgasm approached, me savoring the sensations of a big cock sliding in and out of my pussy, and him the sensation of being able to drive all the way in to that tight pussy. He pushed even harder than usual at the bottom of one of his slow and steady strokes, and groaned as he came.

"Oh, god, that was great," he mumbled softly, keeping his cock inside me. After a minute he raised up, and pulled his still-hard cock out. I felt a stream of cum run out of me and pool under my ass, my pussy contracting much too slowly to retain it.

Now that was the kind of thing I was looking forward to telling Eric about. Oh, yeah, I was going to tell my husband about the monster cock that his wife thoroughly enjoyed being screwed with. No, he wasn't into the whole humiliated cuckold thing -- not that there's anything wrong with that. Eric and I are the last people to cast stones. But he knows that he doesn't have the biggest/longest/thickest cock in existence, and he's confident in his sexual prowess. He also knows that dick size isn't all I care about. What he does like is seeing, or in this case hearing about, me enjoying other guys fucking me really well. This Riddler guy had certainly done that.

❖ ❖ ❖

I was still tied down, and the RPG guys, plus The Riddler and his Henchmen, were out in the living room engaging in a fairly crude discussion about my body, and how they had used it. I caught snatches of conversation, phrases like "sweet pussy", "really got to twist those nipples", and "next year".

I wasn't really listening, since I finally had a moment to think through the ramifications of what Brandon had said to Jarrod. We had successfully kept Brandon from figuring out who I was, so that disaster was averted. But Jarrod now knew three things. One, I worked at a newspaper -- and with Brandon. So it wouldn't take a lot of digging for Jarrod and the RPG gang to figure out who I actually was. Two, he knew I was married. It wouldn't be much of a leap to conclude that Eric was likely my husband, not just my "associate". Three, if I was a high-priced prostitute, why have a day-job at a newspaper? There was a strange irony that playing at being Batgirl, someone with a secret identity, was putting my own secret identity at risk.

I had avoided the Brandon problem, but now what about the RPG guys, I thought, panic starting to arise. I controlled my breathing, and tried to think calmly. Brandon figuring it out would have indeed been a disaster. Him blackmailing me for sex at best, and just exposing me at worst. But the RPG guys were different enough from the Brandons of the world to almost be a different species. Sure, they hired me for kinky role-playing games and bondage sex as their costumed plaything here at the convention. But when we weren't playing those roles, they treated me with respect, and, I thought warmly, friendship. I am a good judge of character, and that judgement told me these guys wouldn't use anything they suspected, or very possibly knew, to harm me in any way.

The Riddler and his henchmen finally left, and Micah and Paul came in to the bedroom. I looked at them questioningly, expecting them to now all take turns with me.

I was a little surprised when they just started to untie me. Maybe they had something else planned? While Micah worked on the ropes, and Paul took the ball gag out of my mouth. I appreciated Jarrod choosing the biggest one they had, but it had made me quite stiff.

"So," I said, once I had finished working my jaw a bit to loosen it up. "You guys have some other game planned for me tonight? Maybe some interesting new position? All you four got to do was watch."

Micah shook his head, "No. Let's go talk in the living room."

"Ok," I said. Someone saying "let's talk" is rarely a good thing in my experience, so I assumed it was going to be about Brandon. It was not a conversation I was looking forward to.

Night Three - Aftermath

Once I was untied, I went to freshen up, and grab a robe. I was in no hurry for the upcoming discussion, but that still only delayed me joining them in the living room of the suite by a few minutes.

"What's up guys? Or, rather, not up?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light, and not sure I was succeeding.

Jarrod said, "Uhhh, well, we just figured that you've had quite the night already, so we didn't want to overdo it."

"Sooo, not related to hearing a guy say he worked with a 'Tawny', and that he thought I looked like her?" I said.

"Well, at least the parts of me that were naked looked like her," I amended.

They all looked any direction but at me, with Jarrod finally saying, "Ok, yeah. You're her, right? I saw the look on your face, even if he didn't."

Pauls added, "Plus, you did tell me you are in a relationship." The other guys didn't look surprised by this, so apparently he'd shared that tidbit with them. I wondered if he'd told them how I came to share that with him.

"Yeah, I'm her," I admitted, as I sat down. I was pretty wiped out from the party, and this conversation probably wasn't going to be brief.

He nodded, not surprised. I was just confirming what he had already been pretty sure of.

"By the way guys, thanks for being careful to not call me Tawny in front of him. I really appreciate it."

They all looked surprised at the thought that they might have done anything else. I smiled. It's nice when people you like are actually who you thought they were.

"Of course," said Luis, speaking for all of them.

"Ok, so what do you guys know?" I said.

I guess I sounded resigned to bad news, because Jarrod looked concerned as he answered. "Not much? We gather you are married, and that you have a day-job at a newspaper?"

Paul chimed in with, "And that your real name is actually Tawny."

I have no idea at all why my parents named me Tawny. It's actually a much better name for a party girl than it is for a respected journalist, so I just stuck with it when I'd embarked on this whole adventure. Tonight was the first time I was really questioning the decision not to have used something like Candy for my party-name. I had always been sure that my clients would think that Tawny was my professional name. Oh well, too late now.

"And you know his name is Brandon," I added. "So it wouldn't take much detective work for internet-savvy guys like you to find out which newspaper, and then to find my full name."

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," Luis said slowly. They all looked sort of sad, which was a nice reaction to my own sadness and concern at potentially being "outed".

Micah looked embarrassed, too... "You already did that research, didn't you?" I said, pointing a finger at him. He just looked down, and nodded, unable to meet my accusing glare.

With trepidation in my voice, I said, "So, what unpleasant thing do you guys plan to do with all this info?" Just because I loved being fucked by guys, didn't mean I had a high opinion of their motives as a gender.

"What?" said Jarrod, sounding as surprised as all four of them looked, to their credit.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," he added emphatically.

"Your secret identity is safe with us," said Micah in a deadly serious tone. Then he grinned like an idiot and said cheerfully, "I have always wanted to say that."

The rest of them nodded, their own grins matching his.

I couldn't help but laugh. Here I am freaking out, and these guys think they're in a freaking comic book.

I stood up, and walked around the room, shaking hands with each of them in a formal fashion, and saying, "Hi, I'm Tawny, nice to meet you," to each of them in turn.

After I finished my little ritual, I sat back down.

"So, Tawny, do you mind if we ask a few questions?" said Jarrod hesitantly.

"Sure," I said. They already knew the important stuff, so what did I have to hide? Well, ok, yeah, lots probably, but I was willing to answer some things. I either trusted them or I didn't.

Micah said, "Ok, but please don't feel like you have to answer any of them. You could say you never want to see us again and walk out that door without another word, and we wouldn't take advantage of what we know about you."

Jarrod said, "So, we figured this was your job. If you have a -- no offense -- real job, why do this? I know the newspaper business won't make you rich, but it's not like you need to do this to survive, right?"

Well, that was the question I hoped they wouldn't have asked. Do I lie, I thought? Tell them I have expensive tastes and this is how I pay for them? Huge student loans? A gambling problem? I took a deep breath, and went with the truth.

"You guys know that I do it of my own free will, no controlling pimp or anything like that, right?"

They all nodded.

"I do it because... I enjoy it."

I paused to let them absorb that before I continued.

"For now, I'd like to leave it at that." I know I was turning red,. That wasn't something I had ever planned to share, but if they were keeping my secret, they deserved to know why.

"Wow, no, ok, that's... wow. You don't have to say more if you don't want," Jarrod said, obviously surprised. I'm sure he assumed that money was the only reason I'd let guys do some of this stuff to me.

Micah asked, "Does your husband know about all this?"

"Yes, he does."

"Whoa," Paul said, putting a lot of feeling into the word. "And he's ok with it?"

I answered with a terse, "Yes, he is."

The question was really about Eric, not me, and I wasn't sure how comfortable he'd be with these guys knowing all about his kinks. I decided that since I had told the truth about him knowing, this was a fairly obvious corollary, and I hoped they'd not dig any deeper into my answer.