It started with a text message.
Meet me for a surprise. 721 Miller Row, out by Bristol. Room 314, third floor. With a little red heart emoji tacked on at the end.
Not something Maggie normally did, but Kate didn’t question it otherwise. What really should have tipped her off was the address. A rundown apartment block way out in Bristol? Maggie might have been a bleeding heart but she wasn’t the type to go slumming all the way out there.
The heart emoji was what did her in, looking back. That little piece of digital affection to put her at ease.
That was all it took to damn her.
- - -
The apartment building rose up three stories in dark red brick. A monolith to urban sprawl, all adorned with grime and graffiti.
Kate checked Maggie’s message again, as she had done half a dozen times already. The address was correct. This was the place.
There was that needling in the back of her head, telling her to walk away. Somehow, Kate convinced herself to ignore it. It wasn’t like Maggie never sent these cute little messages. And Bristol wasn’t that bad a neighborhood. Rough-ish, sure, but far from the no-go hoods Gotham was infamous for. It would take a few blocks before she was in the real sketchy part of town anyway.
The atmosphere didn’t do much in Bristol’s favor, though. Overcast sky, with the road and sidewalk all slicked up from the early morning drizzle. That classic Gotham ambiance.
There were a few people around. A couple passing cars to provide the faint drawl of urban noise. Hardly the ideal spot for a romantic tryst. Truth be told, it wasn’t the worst place Kate had gotten some tail.
Kate went and pushed open the front door - and noted how the narrow window was covered up with newspaper. The interior hall was even grimier than the outside and layered over with dust. The only signs that people had been here were the trails of footsteps all along the floor.
“Maggie… what the hell are you playing at, babe?” Kate muttered to herself.
A knot formed in her gut. Settled down right at the bottom of her belly, heavy and cold and tight. Kate ignored it as she ignored every other sense telling her to run. She pushed on forward. Deeper into the bowels of this… den.
The elevator was out of order because of course it was. That left the stairs. Each step came heavier than the last. As if her own body was trying to stop her.
Kate should have listened. God, she really fucking should have.
- - -
The third floor was but a single, dim hallway. There at the very end was a scuffed door with chipped red paint. The number 314 was stamped on a small white plaque.
Kate could see light shining through the narrow slit at the bottom. She could hear voices as well, muffled as they were, coming from the other side. They were faint and feminine, little whispers and excited laughter. Giggling. Gasping. Kate’s heart jumped a bit then. Voices as in plural. Had Maggie gone and brought in a friend? A little spice for this spontaneous occasion? That wasn’t like her.
Kate breathed. The spike of excitement was quick and faded even quicker. Not near enough to settle her nerves. The knot in her gut tightened.
She started down the hall.
Halfway to the door, Kate swore she heard a woman moaning. She didn’t allow herself to focus on it - or on the fact that it sounded like Maggie.
The door was getting closer. The voices were getting louder. The sound of hitching breaths, little squeals, huffing and whining in the way that normally had Kate’s blood running hot. Voices, women, all humming and gasping and singing all those sweet notes of pleasure. And one of them was Maggie for sure. Kate recognized that desperate whimper anywhere.
Her heart was beating hard, hard enough to ring her ears. And the knot in her gut was so tight it was practically a stone. The number 314 was staring her right in the face now.
On the other side of the door, the room rocked with a scream, a squeal, a seething curse, all at once. All made in pleasure.
Kate’s heart stopped. She flung the door open.
She was greeted by a dozen voices. Clear voices. A chorus of ecstasy. No Maggie, though. In fact… there wasn’t a single living body in sight.
Room 314 was empty… save for a stripped bed and the lone wooden desk pushed up against the far wall. Atop it there were a half-dozen computer screens.
Every screen was bright with a different video feed - but each video was the same salacious sort. Beautiful bodies, naked bodies, entwined in a familiar dance. On a bed, on a sofa, on the floor, against the wall.
Porn. Girl-on-girl porn.
Thus solved the mystery of the dozen voices. Kate wasn’t settled in the slightest. She pushed into the room slowly, inching closer to the desk and all those screens. When the playback became clearer, Kate let out a tiny gasp of her own. She hadn’t imagined hearing Maggie.
Maggie - her Maggie - was the star of these videos, Kate realized to her horror. That was Maggie’s lovely face flushed with pleasure while a lover sucked at her throat, kissed along the slopes of her breasts, and down between her full, firm thighs.
Kate stared. Her mind raced. Why… why had Maggie… why would she do this?
The cold sting of betrayal only just started upon Kate’s heart when she dared a closer look. That brought a new shock.
The other woman, the one with her face buried in Maggie’s tits, the one with her hand in Maggie’s hair… It was Kate. All of them were Kate.
Every screen, every video, was about the two of them.
As the shock rang in her chest, Kate was suddenly struck with familiarity. Fun, wicked memories played out on those desktop monitors. Maggie on her back, living on Cloud 9 while Kate did her diligent work down between her legs. Maggie with her tongue deep in Kate’s mouth, swapping spit like they were teens hiding behind the gym bleachers. Maggie on her knees while Batwoman stuck gloved fingers in her sweet little mouth…
Kate did a double take when she saw that. That little bit of kinky fun when Maggie told her to keep the costume on. She didn’t know Maggie had recorded it. That was too fucking dangerous. And to leave the footage playing out here in the open, in some dingy apartment-
“Mag… What the fuck is this? Maggie…”
The sound of the door closing behind her sent a jolt straight to the bones. Kate whirled around, all nerves, all tense, all ready for a fight.
It was a man. Lean, almost to the point of being scrawny, dressed in dark clothes. A worn denim coat over a black, button-up shirt. Work pants. Boots. Messy hair, dark red. Stubble coloring his jaw, the result of a week without shaving. Kate had taken down much more imposing men. There was little about this one that she found threatening. Nothing, except for his eyes. The way he looked at her… excitement and interest and want all darkened by something… worse.
“Maggie isn’t here.” His voice was calm, soft. “Just you and me.”
He took a step closer, but Kate brought up her hands. One open palm to stop him, the other a closed fist. A warning.
“Who the fuck are you?” She snapped. “What the fuck is this?”
“I’m an admirer. And this…” A tiny smile cracked at his mouth as he looked to the screens still playing back Kate’s most private moments. “I guess you can call that a tribute of sorts. You live an exciting life, Kate.”
“You’ve been watching me…” Kate understood then. The confession washed over her like cold water, icy tendrils sliding under her clothes, prickling her skin.
“I have. For several days now. Ever since our near miss at Falcone’s.”
Kate tightened her jaw. Falcone’s. Her mind went back to that night and the men she fought. An easy round-up, except for that one bastard… She should have fucking caught him.
That had been weeks ago. Somehow… somehow this freak had tracked her down. And all this time, he’d been spying on them… recording them!
Kate’s stomach turned and twisted.
“So, what?” She spat. “You followed me home, hoping to get some revenge?”
“Revenge?” The man frowned then. “You think I’m angry with you?”
“You’re some kind of fucked up, that’s for sure.”
“Don’t be rude.” He spoke like one would to a child. The softness in his voice was starting to grate on Kate’s nerves. “I went through all the trouble of setting this up, collecting footage, hauling everything up here, spoofing Maggie’s phone…”
Maggie. He’d gotten so close to Maggie.
The twisting in Kate’s gut flashed with fire, red hot.
“You should have stayed the fuck away from her.” She seethed. She saw red then and craved to see more. She wanted to see it dripping down this fucker’s broken nose, smeared over his broken teeth. She started forward, ready to feel that strain in her fists and arms again.
The man, though, was ice cold. He narrowed his eyes.
“Kate. That is not the smart choice.”
The softness had gone from his voice. Replaced with an ice cold edge. It was enough to stop Kate in her tracks.
“Yeah? Why not?” She still had enough fire to hiss.
The man just smiled. It was a calm smile, relaxed and confident. There was no fear that Kate could see, nothing that gave her something over him.
“I know your name.” He told her plainly. “I know Maggie’s. I know where you live. I know about your nighttime habits. I know everything, Kate. And if you don’t play by my rules… so will everyone else.”
The killshot pierced straight through her chest, but Kate didn’t feel the horror right away. Like a soldier who didn’t know he was a dead man walking. Meanwhile, the sounds of Maggie’s ecstasy still carried over the whole room.
“You’re bluffing.”
The man shook his head, though more out of amusement than anything else. He eyed the screens again with a raised brow. He fished a small remote out of his pocket, pressed a button. That killed the sound. Nothing left for Kate to hear but him… and her own pounding heart.
“Ah, Batwoman.” The man sighed. “So brave, so strong. But having her secrets spilled all over the web, is she strong enough to handle that? What about Kate Kane? What about Maggie Sawyer?”
“Fuck you.”
“No. Not yet. But we’ll work towards that.” He began to circle her, slow steps. No tension in his body. He wasn’t afraid of her. He knew he’d already won.
Kate could hardly breathe. She could barely even speak. Her mind was racing too fast now for even the red hot tendrils of rage to take root. Her stomach was knots, turning, tightening, feeling like it was going to collapse in on itself. Swallow her up and the whole room too. That might have been preferable to… to…
“You’re sick.” She managed to choke out. “Don’t think for even a second that I’ll-”
“Oh, you will.” He was behind her now. “I think you’ll do whatever I say. Because you’re the heroic type. You’re not just doing this for me. You’re doing it for your sweetheart. Sweet, sweet Maggie.”
A voice within screamed at her to hit him. Kick him screaming out the window. But these freaks always had a back-up plan. He was right, she realized to her horror. She couldn’t risk Maggie.
So it was blackmail. Kate had to play ball. Cold, slimy dread spread through her guts as she realized she wasn’t leaving here until this creep got what he wanted.
“Make the smart choice.” He said as he circled back to her front. The want in his eyes burned even brighter now. “Take off your clothes.”
Kate nearly heaved.
“You just made the worst mistake of your life, motherfucker.”
Still, she obeyed. She had to force herself to move, to slide her coat from her shoulders. Her hands felt like concrete as she unbuttoned her shirt, her pants. Taking them off was even more of a struggle. Like she was peeling away her own skin. And to have him standing there, watching her…
“Bra and panties, too. Lose everything.” The man’s voice was firm once more. Firm and cold.
Kate’s skin prickled all over. There was a lump in her throat, thick and heavy like a stone. There was another in her belly, sinking, sinking deep. She bared herself completely to this… this cretin.
He took a moment to look her over. His smile was revolting.
“Good. Very good.” He shifted on his feet, drinking in her nudity. There was a moment there when Kate feared he might move close, try to touch her. Not because she was scared of him, but because if he tried she would have snapped his wrist. To keep Maggie safe, she’d have to control herself. But this creep was making it so, so hard. “One thing I’ll say for the military: they teach you how to stay in shape. Touch yourself.”
Kate gawked.
“What?”
“You’re not deaf. Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me. Touch yourself. Your breasts, your stomach, your cunt. Get on the bed and do it. Go on.”
His eyes had become like steel now. There was no room there for her to argue.
Kate again made herself obey. She climbed onto the stripped bed, the bare mattress, worn and scruffy from use, brushing against her naked skin. Made her feel even more filthy. She turned onto her back and he was standing there at the foot of the bed. Just staring down at her. Kate glowered back, putting as much hate and defiance into her stare… but inside, there was cold fear, twisting like a snake. She thought then that he might climb on after her and that curdled her insides to where she could taste her own disgust.
She touched herself as ordered. One hand on her tit, squeezing. The other dipping down between her thighs. She felt her own touch but not much else besides. Her flesh was deadened with dread. Her fingers worked and slid over dry lips. Her “captor” was not pleased.
“No.” He said with a roll of his eyes. “None of this lazy bullshit. Touch yourself like you mean it. Like you want it.”
“I don’t want it.” Kate bit back.
“Find some motivation. You have plenty.”
There was more than just impatience there. Anger just beneath, sharp and deadly. There was no missing the threat. Again, Kate obeyed. She fumed with rage, with shame, with guilt, but she obeyed.
Her touch turned slower, deliberate. Her fingers pressed into her bosom with intent now. And down at her sex… The kindling of something more, hotter. She called on old memories, how she liked to touch, how she liked to be touched. She tried to put the man out of her mind, tried to fool herself into thinking he wasn’t there, the screens weren’t there, that her life was coming apart with each stroke of her fingers.
She tried to ignore the stirrings in her belly.
“That’s it. Keep going.”
Kate closed her eyes. What she would have given then for a pair of fucking earplugs. She pinched her own nipples, squeezing hard enough to make her toes curl. A jolt ran through her body, arcing through her nerves like lightning, shooting to her core where it joined the blitz of her probing fingers.
More of that followed. More pulses of warmth through her flesh, spreading across her body, mingling with the disgust and the shame and the utter hatred she felt for the man watching her. It wasn’t pleasure. She would never call it pleasure. She didn’t even want to name it. But it was there, worming through her insides, all hot, all her own doing.
“Yes.” The man’s delight was putrid to Kate’s ears. “Make yourself come.”
Kate dared to open her eyes then. With her head turned, she could see the desk with all the screens. The videos were still playing and the one closest to her was shining bright with Maggie lying back on their bed, propped up on her elbows, cheeks flushed, mouth open in pleasure. Kate could see herself, too. She was kneeling, her face pushed up between Maggie’s legs, her red hair balled up in Maggie’s hand as she licked, licked, dutifully licked. She remembered that night. She remembered how Maggie tasted gushing all over her tongue.
Her fingers were plunging deeper then, down to the second knuckle. She was hot inside. Hot and wet. Kate scowled. What kind of superhero allowed this to happen to them? What kind of superhero got off to it?
She wanted to fly away. She wanted to break the man’s fingers. She wanted to break his face. She wanted to kick his balls in. And all that rage, all that defiance, it fueled her. Her hands squeezed and flicked and stroked, faster now. Kate bared her teeth. She wasn’t enjoying this. It was her body betraying her. And those weren’t tears blurring her vision. It was sweat. Just sweat dribbling down her forehead.
“Fuck you.” She spat. Her hips bucked off the mattress, but her fingers kept going. “Fuck you! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you- FUCK!”
Maggie. She did it for Maggie.
Her body was tingling, her skin buzzing. Made her feel sick. She stared at the ceiling, counting every scuff and scrape and spot where the paint had been chipped away. Kate didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to dwell. Because then it was real, wasn’t it? Maybe if she just closed her eyes-
“Good girl. That was an impressive first show. And it’s good to know you can follow orders. No wonder you did so well in military school.”
Kate didn’t answer him. She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes never left the ceiling. She may as well have been a corpse.
“The shower works.” He spoke again. Kate heard the sound of his boots shuffling against the floor. “You can get yourself cleaned up. Do what you want with the computer. Trash it all if you want. I have my own copies. You’ll be hearing from me again.”
She heard his footsteps again, then the sound of the door clicking shut. Kate didn’t move. She could feel her defeat trickling down her thighs.
It was a long, long moment before she found it in herself to speak.
It was a single word, choked through a sob.
“Fuck.”