SLEEPERQUEEN STRIKES AGAIN
A Batman Adventure
by SleepWalker
coyote4531@hotmail.com

Episode 1: Another Victim

… in which SleeperQueen meets her new partner in crime while subduing another
unfortunate male

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It was well past midnight along the backstreets of a mist-shrouded Gotham City as
Chastity Pritchett, better known as SleeperQueen, moved stealthily from shadow to
shadow, seeking her next victim.

This was crazy, she thought to herself for the thousandth time: out here on a damp
night, well past her bedtime, in an obsessive attempt to satisfy this weird fetish
of hers: taking a man by surprise and knocking him out cold. Perhaps taking him back
to her place and raping him. Perhaps just dumping him unconscious on the outskirts
of town. The important part was that he was asleep, knocked out by her long legs or
powerful arms or the potent drugs she carried in a miniature satchel which rode
along her hip on a low-slung belt. Knocked out cold by her sleek, sexy, feminine
power. What came after he was out was irrelevant. The crux, the climax for her was
watching him lapse into unconsciousness as a result of a particularly powerful kick,
karate chop or other, more devious means.

She had tried to explain this fetish of hers to some of her friends, but they just
stared in wide-eyed disbelief, nodding politely. How could she explain the electric
thrill of watching a man pass out at her feet? Sometimes her victims collapsed
against her, after she buried a stunning karate chop into the soft flesh at the base
of their necks. Sometimes they moaned loudly or let out long sighs of ultimate
exhaustion as they slid down her body and lay writhing slowly for a moment at her
feet before slipping into unconsciousness. Sometimes a small rivulet of drool
escaped from the corner of their mouths just before they fell asleep, moistening the
instep of her foot or running down along her ankle. That was when she shuddered and
moaned herself, and gave herself up to the erotic, shuddering climax.

How could she explain any of it? She only knew that she loved the sight of a man
lying at her feet, out cold, put to sleep by her hands, legs or other more
unsporting techniques. This last thought reminded her to unzip the tiny satchel
slung low about her waist and check its contents. The hypodermic needle was there.
True, it didn’t make for a very fair fight, but it came in handy.

The streets were quiet now and occasionally her platform heels clicked loudly
against the damp sidewalk, but she was reluctant to remove them because they turned
her on: they were an integral part of the erotic pleasure she derived from these
late-night and increasingly risky forays, as much a part of the costume as the black
mask and micro mini hotpants. She glanced down at them now, self-consciously, down
along the extended length of her slender, shapely legs, the sight of which also
turned her on, bare and uncovered. She reflected on how many times those long legs
had lashed out suddenly and caught her victim completely unaware, her feet
connecting solidly with the side of his head or directly under his chin. Sometimes
he would reach out and grab the soft backs of her thighs as he slid downward, unable
to hold himself up. Another wave of spasms s!
hook her entire body with pleasure as she imagined those past victims passing out at
her feet.

But she had to be careful: she’d left an obvious trail of unconscious men lately,
her obsession getting stronger and increasingly hard to satisfy, like an addiction,
so that the authorities had become aware of a pattern. They had dubbed the
mysterious femme fatale
SleeperQueen, and she rather liked the handle and had decided to keep it. But the
Commissioner, baffled and incompetent as always, had called in Batman and Robin; she
had seen the headlines in yesterday’s paper, so she had to be extra wary, she knew.
They were clever, sneaky adversaries, so she slowed her pace and tiptoed as the
lights of the nightclub ahead came into view. She melded into an alleyway to better
survey the situation.

A lanky middle-aged man in a business suit still wearing his tie, she noticed with
some inexplicable disgust, emerged from the club with a young woman linked to his
arm. She wore an extremely short skirt and high heels not unlike her own. What luck!
The guy wasn’t bad-looking, as far as she could tell, and a nubile young nymphette
thrown in at no extra cost! Two for the price of one, she thought, as she followed
silently toward the parked cars.

She waited as he fumbled for his keys, unlocked the passenger side to let his escort
in, then walked around to the driver’s side. Then she made her move. She strode up
boldly to him, her long legs covering the remaining distance easily before he had
time to think.

“ Congratulations!” she announced with false enthusiasm. “You’ve been selected.”

“ What?” he said, confused, turning to face her. “Selected for what?”

“ For this,” she said with an evil smirk on her face as she cocked her bare leg back
then brought it up suddenly in a high kick. Her instep met him squarely under the
jaw, propelling him back against the car door.

“ Uggh,” he groaned, staggering. She unleashed another kick, sweeping her long leg in
a high arc from the side, catching him on the temple. He grunted again, but kept his
feet, erect, swaying drunkenly. She clenched her fists, brought her knee up and held
it there for a split second, then let fly a jarring snap kick. Her calf rocketed up
and out, solidly meeting his forehead. He fell back against the car door once again.

“ Is everything alright, honey?” asked the girl with a singsong voice. It would be
fun knocking her out, Chastity thought, if for no other reason then to silence that
annoying, tinny tone for the remainder of the night. She considered leaving her by
the side of the car and speeding away with the guy, but it had been a while since
she had tasted any young female flesh; the opportunity was just too irresistible.

The guy was shaking his head and wincing in pain, when Chastity turned her attention
back to him. It was time to make a getaway before she drew attention to herself.
She raised her hand high over her head, flattened it, and brought the knife edge of
her hand down sharply against the base of his neck in a devastating karate chop.
Just as abruptly, she delivered a second chop in rapid succession before he even had
time to react the first blow. Unable to stand any longer, he collapsed, his back
sliding slowly down against the cold metal of the car behind him.

She caught him by the front of his shirt as he fell and held him up. Reaching behind
him, she pulled the back door open and shoved him roughly inside. She leaned in only
long enough to wrench the car keys out of his hand, then slid swiftly into the front
seat behind the wheel.

The girl looked at her in surprise. “Wow, that was pretty cool fighting!” she said,
genuinely impressed, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend was lying
delirious in the back seat.

Chastity hesitated. She was about to knock the girl out with another karate chop,
but the adulation in her voice was unmistakable. Something in her tone had warned
her to hold off, that maybe here, possibly, was someone she could trust, someone who
might understand her. She would have to see. She could always pull over and put her
to sleep if she caused trouble.

Instead, she cranked the ignition and tore out of the parking lot.

“ Where are we going?” asked the girl, wide-eyed with anticipation, yet showing no
sign of fear or shock.

“ To my secret lair,” replied SleeperQueen coolly. “To have our way with him.” She
indicated man sprawled on the back seat who was now beginning to stir slightly.
“ That is, if you want to join me.” She narrowed her eyes and scrutinized the girl,
appraising her. She guessed she was about ten years her junior, maybe 18, maybe not
even legal yet.

“ Absolutely,” the girl practically sang, and was about to continue when a long moan
from the back seat interrupted her.

SleeperQueen peered into the rearview mirror. “He’s waking up. We’re not going to
make it to the lair. We’re going to have to pull over.”

“ Let me handle this,” said the girl, and, without warning, vaulted into the back seat.

SleeperQueen was too surprised to respond. With her eyes still riveted on the mirror
and the scene unfolding behind her, she slowed the car, spied an unobtrusive turnoff
to the side and swerved off the main road.

The guy had managed to pull himself into a sitting position and was shaking his
head, trying to clear the haze from his brain. “Where am I?” he mumbled.

“ That’s not important, baby,” the girl cooed in his ear. She had moved behind him,
grabbed him around the waist and pulled his back against her ample chest. “Just
relax and enjoy the ride,” she added. With that, she wrapped her arms around his
head, one arm extending up along the side, the other firmly cinched under his chin
and wrapped tightly around his throat and neck.

“ What the fu--?” he began, but was cut off has she tightened the hold.

“ Ssh,” she chided. “Just relax, baby…and sleep.”

Chastity had pulled off into a brushy area well hidden from the road and killed the
engine. Then she turned to watch the spectacle unfolding before her with increasing
incredulity.

The girl tightened the sleeperhold and her victim let out a grunt. He twisted from
side to side, trying to free himself, but to no avail, as she wrapped her legs
around his, immobilizing him completely. The man’s struggles slowed almost
immediately as his strength was sapped. He let out a long sigh and a thin rivulet of
drool escaped involuntarily from the corner of his mouth. She squeezed him again,
forcing the side of his head into the inside crook of her elbow. In a last desperate
attempt to shake her off, he reached down and grabbed the sides of her smoothly
shaven thighs. Her micro miniskirt had from the beginning ridden high up above her
hips, revealing a black string bikini. But his strength was gone now and his hands
just as quickly slid off her glistening, tanned legs, coming to rest numbly on the
car seat. But the feel of her legs under hi!
s warm palms had made a lasting impressions he wondered to himself, “How can someone
so soft be so deadly?”

It was his last coherent thought. He relinquished the fight and surrendered to her
then, sinking back into her slender young body, giving himself up to her as he began
to slide into unconsciousness. He moaned softly as his muscles became water and his
mind faded into a gray haze, then into blackness. His body went completely limp as
he went out in her arms.

Another soft moan emanated from the front seat. Distracted from her quarry
momentarily, the girl turned to investigate, leaning over the backrest to get a
better look. Chastity was sprawled on the seat in the middle of an orgasm. The girl
smiled and turned her attention back to the man. He also lay sprawled on his back,
sleeping deeply.

Momentarily, SleepQueen’s masked face appeared above the seat back.

“ Whew!” She sounded drained. “Where did you learn how to do that?” she asked,
obviously impressed.

“ I’ve got a black belt in karate. I’ve knocked out more men than I can count,
SleeperChick. You could call it a hobby of mine. It was just a matter of time before
we ran into each other, I would say,” the girl replied.

“ Well, you’re hired. I could use a sidekick,” SleeperQueen confided.

“ Who says I’m looking for a mentor?” the girl asked. “I work alone.”

“ I’ll need someone to help me kidnap Batman and Robin. What do you say?”
SleeperQueen asked.

“ An offer I couldn’t refuse,” replied the girl. “Where do I sign?”

“ Good.” SleeperQueen reached into the satchel still strung around her waist and
extracted a hypodermic needle. “I hereby dub thee Anesthesia, Princess of Peace,
Sultana of Sleep, Countess of Karate, Diva of Dreams.” She lightly tapped the needle
twice on each of the girl’s narrow, bony shoulders.

The girl bowed her head in mock obeisance and said coolly, “I thought you’d never
ask” and then was interrupted by a stirring from the backseat: the man was
awakening.

“ What perfect timing,” said SleeperQueen. “Would you like to do the honors?”

“ It would be my pleasure,” answered Anesthesia. “And I really mean that.”

She removed the protective cap of the needle and scrutinized the contents closely.
Satisfied, she lowered it until it rested against the base of her victim’s neck,
smiled, then inserted it gently with practiced expertise. Slowly she pushed down on
the plunger, very gradually transferring the potent serum to the soft, vulnerable
flesh at the base of his neck.

“ That should hold him for a while,” announced Anesthesia, withdrawing the needle and
pausing to observe its effect.

He was just starting to come to his senses when the drug took hold. He had managed
to prop himself up on one elbow. Looking around with glazed eyes, he mumbled, “Where
am I? Who are you?” when abruptly his eyes rolled upward and he sank back onto the
car seat. He pushed himself up again, but the effort was too much for him and he
sank back down, breathing heavily.

“ Never mind that, darling,” stated SleeperQueen coldly. “You’re coming with us and
I’m adding you to my menagerie, and that’s all you need to know.”

He raised himself again, but Anesthesia lifted her high-heeled foot and, resting it
on the front of his shoulder, pushed him violently back down into the vinyl
upholstery. As she watched, his eyes fluttered, then closed as he sank into a deep,
drugged sleep.

“ Well done, girl,” said SleeperQueen. “You’ve obviously had experience. So where
exactly did you learn to do all that?” she asked, putting the car in gear and
backing out onto the main road.

SleeperQueen directed the car toward home, her secret lair, as Anesthesia related in
measured tones the amazing history of how she too became obsessed with rendering her
male victims helpless…and then completely unconscious.

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Next: Chapter 2…Bedtime Stories

… in which Chastity and Anesthesia trade tales of how they discovered their fetish
for knocking men out cold.