Trigger Warning: Irrumatio, breeding/creampie, non-con, gagging, handcuffs/restraints, degradation
Another annoying night, you thought. Despite your looks and perfect body, you were still a small time model, never more than a background girl in a photo shoot. That little detail didn’t get past of the guys in your neighborhood though, they catcalled you and tried to swipe a feel and you snarled at them. Other guys tried to ask you out, presenting you with flowers and chocolates, but you threw their gifts in the trash: no one would get in your way to getting to the top.
You unlocked your apartment, throwing your bag on the counter and sighing. When were you going to get the recognition you deserve?
“Hey, doll.” You froze. Your living room light flicked on, revealing a figure in your armchair, a man in combat clothes and a red helmet. Being a red-blooded Gothamite you knew immediately that this was the Red Hood, anti-hero of Gotham. Your eyes kept wandering to the guys at his hips. “Was wondering when you’d get back.”
The Red Hood was also considered an executioner of Gotham’s worst, so why was he here? Your heart started to race. What had you done to garner his attention? Were you tied to some crime? Or about to the victim of one? “What are you doing in my apartment.”
“Relax.” He stood up, reaching his full height. You were tall, as models were, but he was a giant with heavy muscle and equipment. He walked to your front door, casually locking the door behind him. “Why don’t you sit down and we can talk about why I’m here.”
“O-okay.” You crossed over into your living room and sat down in your armchair, warm where he’d been, the smell of his cologne infecting your nose.
“Someone asked me to look into you,” he said. “There’s a whole lot of angry guys online who think you need to be taken down a peg. In fact, one of them reached out to try and hire someone to hurt you.”
Oh God, was that why he was here? “I can pay you double whatever they did!” Those incels must have gotten frustrated with you not giving them the attention they didn’t deserve.
“No one’s paying me,” he said. “I’m here because you’re in danger.” Red Hood crossed the room and knelt down beside you. “I decided to watch out for you, pro bono.”
You breathed a sigh of relief.
“But I realized something,” he continued, “I watched you for a while and I think those guys are right.” He grabbed your leg, yanking it away from the other. “You need to be brought down a peg.” Red Hood tore your skirt off with ease, exposing your panties and stockings to him. Despite the situation, you wished you could have at least seen his face, try to gauge what he was thinking. Was it some kind of elaborate prank?
But then his hands made their way to your breasts, squeezing and massaging them.
“No!” You tried to push him off, struggle, but he was so much bigger and stronger.
Red Hood whipped out a strip of leather and shoved it into your mouth. Then, he removed handcuffs and bound your wrists behind your back. You were powerless. “Now,” he said, “why is a girl as pretty as you being so mean to boys you just want to shoot their shot?” He began to remove his gloves, then slid out of his leather jacket. You could see the bulging muscles through his shirt sleeves. Those arms would barely need to flex to snap your neck. You were fucked. “Although, I guess I can’t blame them, since I wanted to do the same the moment I saw you.”
Slowly, Red Hood settled himself between your legs, gently humping at your vagina through your thin stockings. He was getting hard fast, his thickness heavy in his pants. “I want you all to myself,” he grunted in your ear, “but first, I need to make sure you know your place.”
From moment to the next, he whipped out his cock, gently encasing your stocking-clad thighs around it. “You’re not all that you think you are. These nice thighs that you’ve kept perfectly plump are just something for others to desire. Selling yourself as a model, you’re saying it’s fine for me to do this: to use you like an object.” He started moving, his precum acting as lubricant as he slid his cock back and forth. “And yet you think you have the right to be above others.” His cock twitched between your thighs. “God, you feel good.”
You watched the head of his cock vanish and reappeared between your thighs. Despite the anger you felt at being violated in your own home, something about his fat, drooling cock head, had an ache growing at your core. Your clit ached, swelling against your panties, begging to be touched. Becoming a model wasn’t about becoming an object of desire, but you had to admit that you liked the looks you got from the men you turned down.
Red Hood’s pace became more erratic, his breathing echoing against his helmet until ropes of his cum sprayed across your stomach and breasts. “This is what showing off gets you,” he panted, “used and cum on by your ‘fans.’”
His thick fingers made their way to your aching clit, making you squeal as the first shocks of electric pleasure flooded your system. He paused, his head tilting, now you really wanted to see his face. “There’s a good girl,” he purred. “Y'know, Freud said there are only angels and whores when it comes to women. And while I’d like to think of myself as more progressive than that, I know a girl like you would learn her place once she’s bred like the bitch she is.”
Bred? Wait, was he threatening to knock you up? You tried to squirm again, but he held you down easily, sliding his fingers against the slick you’d gathered: an embarrassing amount considering that you were being assaulted. Without a word, he slipped inside.
You weren’t a virgin, but his cock was so large you felt like one. It filled you completely, hot, and ready to release another dangerous load. Feeling him inside you made the walls of your entrance squeeze, excited for the very thing you feared.
It was impossible to fight back. One of Gotham’s heroes was raping in your home and planning to breed you. You hadn’t even seen his face. Combined with being exhausted from work, you gave up. Your body went limp and his cock started moving.
“There’s a good girl,” he said. “You’re learning your place.” The soft squelch of his dick plowing away inside you was louder than his panting and yours. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s got lots of cum for you stored up.” Red Hood grabbed your hips pulling you up and sliding in deeper, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? For someone to put those curves of yours to use, to put you in your place.”
His pace picked up, slamming his hips against yours. Your toes curled against your will, muscles clenching around his cock until his hot cum was flooding you, filling you up and out until it dripped down your ass.
“You took daddy’s cock so well,” he purred, “all that cum, just for you.” Red Hood slipped his cock out, gently uncuffing you. He dressed himself in silence, leaving you exhausted with a load of fast cooling cum inside you. As he turned to exit through your balcony he said, “It probably won’t take the first time, so make sure to leave your window unlocked for tomorrow.”