It was an odd thing how such a perilous situation could bring one so much pleasure. Batman never imagined that such things would bring him joy, though that joy was well contained under the surface. There were three very attractive women around him, one sitting on his face, where his tongue was working hard on her clit, another was removing his pants, her sharp talons slicing through the material as if they were a hot knife rolling through butter, and the other, Poison Ivy was involved in Pandora. Of course Poison Ivy's vines were helping restrain the caped hero, though much of his outfit was missing. Madam Payen had exposed him as Bruce Wayne, though he had doubts that she would tell anyone. The majority of his top was missing, Catwoman had just used her talons to slice through his pants, so for the most part he had on his boots and yellow utility belt.<br/><br/>Of course the more he worked his tongue into Madam Payen's folds the closer he became to wearing something else entirely, her orgasm. Of course as he was working diligently he felt the succulent lips of Catwoman engulf his hard cock into her mouth. Her skills of bobbing up and down, back and forth, on his member were amazing. He had felt them before though, and he was none too surprised when she joined in the fracas. A stifled moan escaped his lips, doing little more than blowing a puff of air at Madam Payen's clit before his tongue went back to working hard. The continual drive of the crop into his chest was a solid reminder to work hard, though the harder he worked the harder it became to breathe. Batman could still manage to gasp in short breaths, but they weren't full, and now he was in a race against time. He felt there would be severe repercussions if he passed out before finishing his deed.<br/><br/>On the other side of the coin, Batman also felt that if Catwoman brought him to orgasm before Madam Payen graced his face with her juices that the end result would be dire as well. So work hard he did, licking her juices each time they made it to her southern lips before his pink probe went back to work flicking her clit and massaging it similar to how a vibrator would. It also seemed that the more aroused Poison Ivy became the tighter her vines on his wrists became, nearly cutting off the circulation and forcing them hard to the floor.