Bruce giggled as he leaned against the wall and give the 20 dollar bill a big sniff. For some reason money just smelled BETTER when it came from fucking. Just smelling it made him get hot. Which made a VERY obvious bulge in his leather miniskirt. But that was okay; it just drew more attention to his special talents.
He rubbed his head. The last few days seemed a little bit of a blur. Though that was partly due to a little early sniffing a line or two of cocaine off the fat dick of one of Bruce Wayne's business associates. That was fun. But Bruce did remember how a few days ago, when he was putting on his Batman costume, Alfred had angrily stormed into the room, glowered at Bruce all stern like, and said if he was going to waste all his nights running around the bad parts of town in tight outfits, then he might as well earn some cash for it.
"If you are going to stay here," Alfred had said, "you will have to pay for the privelledged."
Bruce moaned and rubbed his erection. Alfred had been so stern, so firm, so masterful! It had made Bruce realize how ungrateful he'd been before. Alfred had looked after him, worked hard, given him so much. It was time for Bruce to pay him back for being such a wonderful person. Bruce didn't want to be ungrateful.
Then he giggled as a car drove by, which featured some people Bruce was very familiar with.
* * *
Moe, Larry, and Curly were the Joker's thugs -- dumb muscle who the Joker had insisted cut their hair in the style of the Three Stooges. The boss didn't have anything for them to do at the moment, so they were cruising around looking for a little fun.
"Hey, lookit that," Curly said as the hooker sauntered towards them, fat ass and huge tits swaying enticingly. "Lookit that rack!"
"Lookit that dick," Larry said. "I don't want no he-she."
"Hey, boys," the former Batman cooed as he leaned forward, giving them a full few of his massive set of tits. "Lookin' for a little fun? I like a whole buncha studs so I give a deal fer groups."
The three of them blinked, getting a nose-full of the hooker's incredibly intense perfume. She - he - whatever seemed to ooze pure sleazy sex, and it was getting them all hard.
* * *
Nightwing couldn't believe his eyes. Bruce, dressed like that, was sliding into the car with the Joker's thugs.
A stray breeze sent some of the intense perfume his way, and he found himself getting a little hard.
"I better follow... to keep an eye on Bruce," he said to himself, trying to ignore his erection.
* * *
Back at Wayne Manor, Alfred was leaning back in Bruce's favourite chair, sipping on Bruce's prize bourbon, while his other hand yanked the hair of the figure bobbing up and down between his legs.
"Yeah, suck my cock. Mmmmm, yeah. Suck it harder! Fuck, you want the job, don't you? Swallow it all, you slut!"
One hooker wasn't enough. Alfred was going to have the finest stable of whores in Gotham. And the mansion would make a good headquarters for the city's richest pimp -- once he did some redecorating.