The Black Bishop (Batman SI)

"You know," Bruce clenched, tense and sweating under Hippolyta's healing hands, "I've had better spa days."

Hippolyta gave a husky laugh that rumbled in the ancient hall: " And I have had my fair share of easy patients." So saying, she fixed a knowing smile, her gaze locked on to the bruised rib. Despite the gravity of the moment, the Amazonian Queen exuded a comforting warmth that eased the ache in the young man; the pain of Hades was still fresh in his mind.

Bruce's muscular chest was exposed to the cool Themysciran air-a far cry from the dark armor in Gotham. He breathed wordlessly between the pain and the pride that refused to show weakness. Hippolyta had insisted he discard the top half of his batsuit in order to survey the injuries. It is vulnerability exposing him, because Batman is not meant to be this vulnerable.

"And Zeus? How will you deal with him?" Bruce asked, strained but curious. He watched the way in which the queen's jaw had tightened when speaking about the god. The room was quiet as though that one word, that one name, called his wrath.

Hippolyta's voice broke, and she stared at Bruce. "By making us stronger," she said calmly. "Our fight with Hades showed that our real strength lay in our minds and hearts. It has to be a bond no one can break, not even the gods."

Her words were a battle cry as his muscles relaxed under her assurance. He knew that look-like his own that had started a revolution in Gotham. Her confidence was a virus, and wordlessly, he nodded in agreement.

The silence deepened, so did the change in the atmosphere in the chamber. Fingers stroked bruised skin with more attention than before, tangling and then releasing, but staying a fraction longer than was strictly necessary. Bruised though it was, Bruce's heart was high all right, but not because of discomfort: it was stirred by a quiet craving.

Hippolyta watched Bruce shift in the bed to calm himself, her eyes blackening in appreciation of his torso. Her eyes stayed on the firm muscles of his body, on the raw power. She leaned toward him slowly and deliberately, and whispered, "There's something about you, Bruce… something that pulls me to you like a moth to a flame."

Touches had turned intimate: a teasing dance of her fingers tracing down his abs, thumbs gliding over his chest. Bruce felt himself reflexively responding to what was happening, even as he was shocked. It called the darkness within him-like a predator scenting prey. Part of him wanted to dig deep and resist the advances; another part wanted to give in to the moment.

"Hippolyta..." his breaths were hot.

Her name on his lips had been a spell which broke the tension, sending her reclining, her eyes exploring him. They were deep pools wherein some unacknowledged hunger remained swimming.

Her round breasts, melon-sized, with proud nipples, strained against her armor. Bruce's gaze followed her muscular shoulders, narrow waist and powerful hips. "I've been watching you," Hippolyta said softly. "Your moves, the way you fight… it's unlike anything I've seen. I wonder what it would be like to have you, to feel that power inside me."

Bruce felt like a deer caught in the headlights as his mind was like the Batmobile on the freeway.

He had never imagined that this stoic queen shared his urge, but now, observing her curvaceous figure and the way in which her eyes locked onto him, he knew otherwise. His arousal grew hard within his batsuit pants.

He never thought he could sleep with an Amazon as her, as they were Amazons, yet he really did want her.

"You're attracted to me?" he stuttered in astonishment.

"More than you know," Hippolyta returned, her eyes a continuous desperate want that made Bruce feel far too alive. It was a different feeling to be wanted by what was essentially a god or in this case a goddess. She set her hand delicately to his cheek, and he gasped.

Her lips had kissed and declared war, marking him as hers. The tall frame of Bruce slowly melted into her, his strong arms wrapping around her waist as if this were his life's moment. Their tongues danced, exploring each contour of his mouth. Her breasts behind the armor, pressing against his chest.

And without warning, Hippolyta's hand found the bulge in his pants, deftly wrapping her fingers around his shaft. Bruce's eyes shot open, his eyes hazy with desire. She had a firm but gentle grip, her fingers teasing the sensitive head to jolts of pleasure.

"I could break you," she whispered, and her grip on him tightened. "But I want to feel you at your primal peak. Only then will I know whether you are worthy of me."

Hippolyta quickly removed the pants, freeing his dick with ease, showing off her godly strength.

It came, thick and heavy, the deep purple head reflecting his need as she stared in wonder and hunger, her hand moving steadily along its length, sending Bruce's hips jerking.

"You're so big," she exclaimed. "I've never seen anything like it."

Pride swelled his chest, and his cock twitched in her hand. "Is that a problem?" he growled.

Hippolyta smiled wryly and clutched tightly. "For most, perhaps," she said, glinting. "Not for me."

"How do you know? You've never had sex." Bruce said, his words raw with need now, his eyes burning into hers, an unsaid challenge.

Hippolyta smirked wider, and blue eyes flashed fire. "That is your opinion?" she asked. "It's not about the sex, Bruce. Haven't you been listening? It is about power, and I want yours."

Bruce accepted her challenge. His body stirred at the naked longing in her eyes, his cock beating within the clutches of her hand. A tango of power: testing two souls that had never yielded. A delicious stir of terror and anticipation, like some sort of potent drug, overwhelmed him.

His hand slid under her skirt and he could feel her heat, wet and urgent, her pussy swollen with need. He thumbed her clit while investigating her virgin channel. Hippolyta sucked in a gasp, arching toward his touch.

"You're so wet," Bruce purred, "so ready for me." Hippolyta's eyes flashed defiance as her hips arched to his hand. "Is that what you want?" she panted. "To take me make me yours?"

Now it was Bruce's turn to lean in, teeth grazing her ear. "I want to claim you," he whispered, a promise of darkness. "To show you what it means to yield to darkness."

She gasped as two fingers were pressed inside to stretch the tight opening.

Hippolyta was a statue of beauty and power, her muscles rippling as she strained not to scream. He could feel the reaction of her body, her walls clenching around his fingers as she grew wet. "You're tight," he whispered, his thumb making circles around her clit. "But I will make you mine. You will beg for it."

Pride flashed in Hippolyta's eyes. "You think you can break me?" she flashed back, her voice cracking. "Take me. Prove it."

Bruce snarled and surged forward, his big cock ready. He pushed her back onto the stone table, fingers digging into her thighs as he positioned himself. Her skirt came up, showing off her firm legs and wetness. He took his time to appreciate the scene before him while anticipation arced like a storm. "Ready or not," he sneered, his eyes promising a night she'd never forget.

Bruce plunged into her in a flash, his thick cock working at stretching her firm virginal pussy, as she cried out. Hippolyta had her legs wrapped around his waist, her nails digging into his back as she fought the pain and the pleasure rising inside her. He was insatiable, his hips plunging into her with some kind of primeval need.

"You feel amazing," Bruce groaned, eyes shut as he pushed deeper. Her walls tightened, signaling she was close. "So warm, so wet, so… perfect."

"Yes," Hippolyta painted, her head back in ecstasy. "More… I want more."

Her words were music to Bruce, sweet surrender that whetted his appetite.

He growled, his fingers clenched on her neck, his thumb pressed onto her clit to remind her who was in control. Her eyes flashed, bright with the thrill of fear and pleasure, and she did not pull away; instead, her hips arced up, her screams pleading for more as he plunged deeper into her warmth.

The sound of their bodies in the chamber was a symphony of passion clinging to the island. The moaning from Hippolyta became louder and louder, her body taut with nearing climax. Bruce felt that her pussy was clamping hard, the walls fluttering in near-apian rhythm at the edge.

"Yes," she hissed, nails digging further into his back. "Harder, Bruce. Make me cum." The words enfolded Bruce in a maelstrom of need. He thrust evermore violently.

Her eyes rolled back, her pleasure increasing like a crescendo. "Oh gods," she panted. "You're going to make me cum."

Her body undulated, Hippolyta's orgasm flowing through her as her pussy closed in on Bruce's cock. She wrestled beneath him, the picture of passion. Bruce felt her muscles spasm, flooding him with her juices as she peaked. The sight of her-powerful, yet at his mercy-was almost overwhelming.

He was not yet done.

Bruce rolled her onto her stomach; despite his urgency, he was careful. He pulled her up onto her hands and knees by the top of her hips.

"Want more?" he whispered, his voice full of longing.

"Yes," Hippolyta panted, her body continuously exposed. "Take me like an animal."

Bruce was only too willing to do just that. He wrapped her hips and poised himself at her entrance, his cock wetted nicely by her juices. He groaned, thrusting in again as she clamped down on him. The angle was just right, catching all the proper places.

Her head was buried in the furs, her screams muffled, as Bruce took her from behind. She'd never felt so alive, so full. Her pussy was stretched to its limits and yet she was begging for more. "Yes," she moaned into the fur, shaking. "Like that."

Bruce clutched her hips firmly, his cock thrusting furiously into her. He watched her through the mirror with droplets of sweat beginning to shine in her skin as all of him was taken inside her. Her firm ass cheeks clenched with every push, letting his length into her.

"You're mine," he rasped. "Say it."

Hippolyta turned around-eyes wide, body quaking. "Yours," she panted, her voice cracking with submission.

The roar that seemed to build within him was even wilder as he buried himself deeper into her. She went rigid, her breath catching in her throat as her orgasm was just about to blow. He circled her clitoris with his thumb, his rising. "Cum for me," he ordered. She whimpered as her walls tightened greatly while nearing the edge.

With one final thrust, Bruce felt her yield. Hippolyta's orgasm struck like a tidal wave, her muscles convulsing. He saw in the mirror her eyes shut tight and mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

"Good," he whispered. He pulled away, stroking his verge. "Swallow me now."

Bruce's cock was slick with their juices. He motioned her head to his crotch - her eyes were full of pleasure. With an animalistic roar, he exploded, splashing cum onto her face and into her mouth. She swallowed his seed greedily, looking into his eyes to proclaim the symbolism of dominance over the Amazonian queen.

She was up almost immediately afterwards. Now her eyes sparkled with perpetual hunger, not simply desire. "Again," she whispered, the word escaping between the wet trail left by her lips.

Bruce felt the weight of his humanity. "I cannot," he panted, breathless. "I am tired."

Hippolyta raised an eyebrow, still hungry. "You are not a god," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of a challenge. "But a god is inside you." She leaned forward, her hot breath upon his cheek. "Tap into that power, Bruce. Prove who you are."

But Bruce was exhausted, his humanity resurfacing. He was not the Dark Knight; he was a sixteen-year-old kid who was limited by being human. "Hippolyta," he whispered, "I don't have the strength. Not right now."

She gave a smiling understanding to him, her eyes ravenous in the gloom. "I will wait," she said, stroking his cheek. "But I will not be denied forever."

Bruce had on the Batsuit finally again, the armor clinging to him like a second skin. The material was dark, clinging to the sweaty form that molded to his muscular frame. Hippolyta looked at him, her eyes staying a fraction longer with the touch of her hand that still warmed his skin.

She was demonstratively affectionate, which seemed to disorientate Bruce. "Does it feel all right to you?" he whispered. "The Queen of the Amazons being with a man?"

Hippolyta smiled, knowing that sent a shiver through him. "Bruce," she said softly, "none of the Amazons see you as a man. Not like that. Didn't you ever find it strange why we were so nice to you?"

He was thrown off by her words, knowing she spoke of his other side as an avatar, while her gaze and her touch spoke volumes of something deeper. Once again he had the feeling she saw the beast hiding in costume-the role of the Avatar for The Darkest Knight.

The walk to the beach was silent and powerful. Bruce's brain was like the batmobile with all the implications of their meeting. Once they reached the shores of Themyscira, the Batjet was a reminder of an entire outside world that awaited him with his return.

There was another Amazon: the same girl he had met and fought alongside amidst the action and confusion of the Underworld. Her eyes shone with the same fettle of fire as Hippolyta's. Now she stood tall, almost with pride, against the quiet nightfall.

"My Queen," she said, nodding between Hippolyta and Bruce. "Is the Prophecy leaving?"

Hippolyta acknowledged her presence. "Indeed he must," she said sorrowfully.

The young Amazonian girl stirred in Bruce memories of Hippolyta; he could feel a pang in his chest, and he felt she would be big in the future.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice emotional.

The young Amazon stared into him. "Diana," she whispered.

"Ah, the prophecy," Hippolyta said. "It would seem you've met Diana already," she told Bruce proudly. "She's made of clay like me, with an Amazon's soul."

Bruce accepted that statement, exploring the young warrior. "I suspected as much," he said. "You share the same strength, spirit & looks."

"And with the same curiosity," Diana's smile was shining. "I have watched you fight, Bruce. You are different from any person that I have ever seen here."

"You're not too bad," Bruce said gruffly, with the tiniest trace of a smile.

Diana looked up at him with radiant eyes. "I want to be great like you," she breathed.

"You will be," Hippolyta said, her hand resting on Diana's shoulder. "But remember, with power comes responsibility."

Diana inclined her head towards Bruce. "I know," she said.

And yet, for Bruce, even through all that pride at being looked as someone great for almost nothing, came a sense of the secret that existed between them, Hippolyta and himself. There was nothing akin to a legend or hero story to their coupling, all it was, was the power struggle and passion which were as real and intense as any fight to which he had ever been party.

Bruce could tell that Diana suspected something. Her eyes darted to the bruised ribs, tightly clenched jaw, and noted something different from how he had initially arrived. Bruce shifted uncomfortably beneath her piercing eyes as a betraying throb from his pants began.

"Diana, your mother and I… we shared something powerful," Bruce finally gave up in a gruff voice. "But it's not something to be talked about lightly. It's between us."

Diana stared hard. "I know what happened in the healing chamber, Bruce," she said seriously. "I could feel it in the air when I approached it-like the walls whispered to me of your triumph.

Hippolyta interjected. "It is not something to be taken lightly, my daughter," she said, casting a look over at Bruce. She was still proud of that bond.

Diana nodded silently to express her interest. Her mother had always been a mystery to her. "I see," she replied with an edge of resistance.

When Bruce climbed into the Batjet, Diana sauntered up to him. She identified him with some unnamed feeling. "But one day, Bruce," she whispered huskily, "I'll challenge you too. I want to discover the secrets of your power that makes my mother look at you like that."

The words chilled Bruce as he knew he would one day faced two women who would claim him. His eyes rose slowly to hers, as he gave her an affirmative. "One day," he gulped, "but not today."

Smiling knowingly, fully understanding, yet not budging an inch, Diana had purred, "Until then, I will be training, getting strong. When that day comes, I'll be ready for you."

Bruce had the realization of the situation written across his face. He said his goodbyes with Hippolyta's pride and Diana's eagerness stuck in his mind; he knew that he would confront these mighty Amazons again-a thought that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

The roar of the Batjet engine cut through the serenity of the island. A glance toward his land brought a swirl of anticipation racing within his skull. The jet cut through the night, whipping wind through the jet; he felt both free and lost. He had left a piece of himself on Themyscira, forever connected to the mighty Queen and future Wonder Woman.