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The Rifleman Chapter 1 - The Trap I didn't like the situation that Commissioner Gordon had described to me earlier in the evening. A new gang had moved into Gotham City and they have The Rifleman as a member. Although The Rifleman and I've never crossed paths before, I was very aware of his reputation. A deadly sharpshooter for hire by anyone that could afford him. His expertise was to kill any competition and then to move on to the next job. He had been in Chicago for a year and then Detroit before going to Miami. Now he was here. There were no photographs of him nor any physical descriptions. Just evidence of his deadly trail of bodies left behind. He was a very deadly professional. A new gang called The Daltons has just moved in to Gotham City, with The Rifleman helping them to establish their territory. Commissioner Gordon had provided me with details on their headquarters that was in an old warehouse down by the riverfront. The other gangs were very willing to snitch on this deadly gang and hired killer. As I reviewed the files on my Batcomputer on the few known facts about The Rifleman, I knew that he would be a deadly foe and that I'd probably be his main target, with the other gang chiefs being his secondary target until he took me out. If he took me out, no other gang would give the Daltons any problems. My Batcomputer found references to him in six different cities over the last two years. He would be rumored to be in the town and then someone would die with a thirty-aught-six bullet through the heart. There was no physical description, no police drawings, no general description. He just popped up, shoots his target, and disappeared, without a trace. The only people that ever saw him, were the people that were hiring him, and they weren't talking. He was a deadly killer for hire, with a very high success rate. He would be expecting me and would be prepared for me. I also knew that I couldn't let his reputation discourage me. I became the Batman to put criminals such as him behind bars. Or under six feet of dirt. I walked into the Batsuit room and removed my normal Batsuit. I put on a special bullet-proof Batsuit that was re-enforced with multiple levels of kevlar. The Batcowl was also much heavier because it had a form fitting helmet hid within it's kevlar coated covering. When I wore this, the only exposed space on my whole body was my mouth and chin. The cape was also re- enforced and could provide some additional protection, but all this protection added almost fifty pounds to my overall weight. I didn't like to wear this particular suit because it was much heavier, much warmer and reduced my freedom of motion. But it had saved my life before and was just what I needed, if my suspicions were correct. I felt that I was walking into a deadly trap. My Batsuit should stop that bullet unless it was one of the Black Talon type bullets, which is the bullet called the Cop Killer. If he has that type of bullets in his rifle, my armored Batsuit would stop the bullet but it would not offer much protection from the impact of the bullet. The impact of the bullet could be very dangerous, even if the bullet couldn't penetrate my Batsuit. ***** I parked the Batmobile six blocks away from the Dalton's riverfront warehouse after programming into its computer memory, the emergency route that I wanted it to automatically drive if I ran into problems. All I had to do, was to press a special button on my utility belt to activate it. Then it would automatically drive it's programmed route to the side of the building where I was going to challenge The Rifleman. I had other routes pre-programmed into my Batmobile's computer, to automatically drive it's self to the nearest hospital, to the Batcave, or to Police Headquarters. The computer would determine it's present location and then select a route based upon computer street maps. It avoided other cars and pedestrians by radar sensors; and could drive at a high speed where most other automobiles couldn't keep up. I took my time crossing the rooftops, making sure that I stayed in the dark shadows. I knew that they would be expecting me and didn't want to be caught out in the open, where there wasn't too much protection to hide behind. The warehouse that the Daltons were using as a headquarters had several open skylights. I suspected the skylights to be alarmed and I used my portable scanner to determine if there were any motion sensors or other alarms before I touched the open skylights. There was nothing, so I slipped into the warehouse and crouched on a girder while I slowly examined the interior of the warehouse with my night goggles. The goggles allowed to see within the darkened interior as if it was lit up. I had to take them off, however to see into the lighted area, so I had to do two searches before I moved from my entry perch. I could easily see into the office area and see people milling about, which didn't worry me. It was the dark crannies where I expected the attack to come from. And night goggles are available to anyone that has five hundred dollars. I knew that someone could be watching me also. After about ten minutes of observation, I saw what I had been expecting to see. A very slight movement on one of the roof support beams over toward a corner. Someone else was also up here with me. I moved slowly and quietly from beam to beam toward the area where I had seen the movement; watching the spot where I knew the gunman was hiding. I took a round-about path so that I could approach him from the side, not from the front, where his attention was focused on finding his target. I managed to slip quietly to a position where I was about thirty feet away from the person hidden on the beam and slightly above him. When I got close enough to see his outline with my normal vision in the dim light from the distant front office, I was able to see him lying on the beam, with his rifle pointed toward the office area. Where he was lying, he was able to cover over three-fourths of the warehouse. This person was a professional and knew where to position himself. It has to be The Rifleman. I put the night goggles back on and examined the person in hiding. I started with the rifle. It was a black thirty-aught-six, with blackened barrel. The scope was one of those laser light scopes, which put a very thin red laser beam onto the exact spot where the bullet would strike. The rifle was a very accurate hunting rifle and with that laser scope on it, it could turn anyone into a deadly shot. In the hands of an expert shot, there was no escaping it. At 500 feet, that combination should be able to aim at and hit within one inch of the laser spot on the target. The laser wasn't turned on yet, but the barrel was slowly moving as the sniper searched the dark recesses of the warehouse, searching for it's target. If I had entered the warehouse through the first skylight that I had found, I'd have been directly in front of that barrel. I moved my examination from the deadly rifle to the person laying on the beam. When I saw the profile of the face staring through the scope, I was very surprised. And then my surprise turned to anger. I didn't know or recognize the face, but it wasn't what I was expecting to find waiting for me in this warehouse, with a deadly rifle. I was expecting a middle-aged white man, perhaps one of the Vietnam Veterans who couldn't adjust to a peacetime America. Instead, it was a woman's face staring down the gun barrel. No wonder that there was no description of the Rifleman. With my goggles, I could see that she was a young beautiful woman that was attractive, even with the greasepaint smudges covering her face. She had dark guerrilla camouflage on her face to make her face blend into the darkness, but it was a woman's face with plucked eyebrows lined up over the sight. Her long hair was tucked into a beret, which barely covered the hidden golden sheen of her blond hair. I quickly examined the rest of the body and saw that her body was young, lean and in good shape, under the tight dark jumpsuit. It seemed a little unusual to see the polished bright red long manicured fingernails resting on the rifle trigger. She wasn't secured to the beam, but was just lying there, with her rifle aimed at the far side of the office area, waiting on me to enter. I slowly put my night goggles away and removed my Bat-blowgun from my utility belt. I selected a dart that was coated with a very strong sleeping drug. I knew that once I released the dart, that I'd have to act fast. I'd have to shoot the dart, rope a beam, swing across to her beam, and catch her before she fell unconscious off of the beam or dropped her rifle. And I had to be quite when I did it. I got my Bat-rope ready and selected where I wanted my lasso to wrap around. Then I examined my target again. She had changed position slightly but was still focused upon the lighted office area. I moved to a different beam so that I was a little closer and would have a more direct swing to her. I lifted the blowgun to my lips, took a silent deep breath, aimed the dart at her ass and blew. When I blew, I threw my Bat-rope around the beam and swung across the opening to her beam. In less than four seconds from the time that I shot the dart into her, I was standing on the beam over her, holding her limp body and rifle on the beam as the fast acting drug put her asleep. I looked down to the office area and saw that they were continuing their operation. Good, my noise had been so slight, that no one noticed that I was here and had The Rifleman captured. I hadn't been discovered yet and could capture the rest of the gang if I wanted to. As I shifted her unconscious body so that I could tie it to the beam until I was ready to recover her, I saw a small red spot sweep across my body toward my chest. It was a red laser light. Somewhere in the dark warehouse was another rifle and it was aimed at me. I started to jump but it was too late. The bullet hit my upper chest in the heart area and knocked me backwards into the unconscious woman, knocking her off the beam as we fell to the boxes below. I landed on the boxes and she fell on top of me. As I pushed her off of me, I knew that my suit had stopped the bullet but that I was hurt. The suit had stopped the bullet from penetrating my body but the force of the speeding bullet had possibly broken a rib. I didn't know where the other rifleman was but I didn't want to risk a fight with him while I hurt from this wound. I didn't know where he was at and decided that a retreat with my prisoner would be the best option. I pressed the button on my utility belt that would summon my Batmobile. I leaped to my feet and almost passed out with the pain, which caused me to lose my balance for a moment and double up. That saved my life because another bullet whizzed by my ear, crashing into a storage box as it sent splinters flying through the air. I grabbed the woman's body and threw her over my good shoulder as I ran for the door. After I recovered from this wound, I could question her and get some clues where I could find this other shooter. I saw the red laser light scanning across the floor and guessed that the shooter was trying to keep from hitting the woman and was going to try to shoot my legs out as I ran. I jumped sideways and another bullet slammed into a near-by post as I continued running down the aisle. I could hear other people running through the aisles of the warehouse and knew that the rest of the Dalton gang was coming after me. I had to get out of there, while I could still move. I wasn't able to fight them with this damage to my chest. I found a door and ran into the street as I saw the Batmobile turn the corner and race down the street, opening it's canopy as it roared toward where I was exiting the warehouse. I was still carrying the unconscious woman and dropped her into the open passenger seat as the Batmobile stopped in front of me. As I leaped into the driver's seat and pressed the canopy shut button, I saw the red laser light focus on my chest again. Then the light moved up my neck quickly and I realized that the target had changed from my chest to my head. As I ducked, I hit the dashboard button that would command the Batmobile to drive automatically to the Batcave. I felt the bullet hit the side of my Batcowl. My head jerked from the impact of the bullet and I passed out. Chapter 2 - The WEB "Master Bruce, can you hear me?" queried a voice through the fog that was clouding my mind. I opened my eyes and saw Alfred leaning over me. As my eyes slowly focused, behind him, I could see the roof of the Batcave. Then it came back to me. I remembered being shot and pressing the button that commanded the Batmobile to drive back to the Batcave. I smiled at Alfred as I laid there shaking off the sleep and trying to remember what happened in the warehouse. "Master Bruce, I came down when the Batmobile's emergency beacon went off as it entered the Batcave. I found you hurt very bad and unconscious. There was blood all over your face and your breathing was very irregular. I wanted to call the Rescue Squad but knew that I'd not be able to explain how you received your injuries without exposing your Batman identity. And you were too hurt to treat yourself. So I used the WEB to swap your body with the young lady's body. That way you can treat your body and decide what should be done to fix it." he responded. That woke me up. I sat up and looked down at my body; but it wasn't my body. It was the woman's body that I had seen on the warehouse beams and had carried out of the warehouse. Instead of being in my Batsuit, I was now dressed in a black, skin-tight leotard type of jumper and definitely had a woman's body underneath the clothing. Her body was much smaller than my normal male body, had C-cup breasts riding high on the chest, and a thin waist. Long, golden hair was falling around my face and I had to brush it back with my hand. I turned my head to the wall and could see my new reflection in the mirror. I was in the woman sharpshooter's body. I recognized her face, even with all of the camouflage makeup still on it. Then I saw my real body on the next hospital bed. "I'm all right Alfred. You saved my life." I groaned in a very strange, husky feminine voice as I started examining my real unconscious body. My body was still wearing the Batsuit. Alfred had removed the cowl and cape when he put the body on the hospital bed. The face and head were covered with dried blood. I turned the head and under the hair, I could see the bruised and swollen area where the bullet had struck. The cowl had stopped the bullet but the force had been greater than a baseball bat crashing on my head. The bleeding had stopped but there could be brain damage. With Alfred's help, I quickly undressed my body and examined the chest area where the first bullet had hit. That whole upper chest portion above the heart was also very bruised and swollen. I positioned my x-ray machine and took several images of both damaged areas. Although I'm not a doctor, I've trained myself to treat myself and have the latest equipment to help me diagnose the extent of my injuries. With the x-rays, I could see that I had a cracked rib, which would soon heal but it would be painful until it completely healed. But the worst part was that the head x-rays showed that I also had a concussion, which can be very dangerous. The x-ray showed swollen brain tissue. While I'd not die or suffer any long term disabilities from the combination of those two injuries, I was out of action as the Batman until I healed, which could take weeks. Or was I? Alfred had used the Web on me. I was in someone else's healthy body and she was in my sleeping injured body. I had been injured as a result of her participation in evil actions. I could assume her identity and role in the gang until the appropriate time to arrest them. Alfred had swapped bodies so that I could treat myself but maybe I should use this body until my body was healed. The WEB was an ancient Krypton helmet-like device that exchanged the minds of bodies. WEB stands for Wearers Exchange Bodies. Doctor Alice Albertson had found the WEB in a South America jungle and used the WEB on me. She became the Batman and made me into her over-sexed horny female play-toy slut with a strong hypnotic drug. I thought and believed that I was a natural born woman and that Bruce Wayne was my sexual heaven. I especially enjoyed giving Bruce blow jobs, thanks to her suggestive conditioning. After a month of being her playtoy, I was able to recover my memory and to restore us to our normal bodies. Then I used the same hypnotic drug on her to make her forget what she had done to me. I've used the WEB some more since then but limit how and when it is used. If I had been conscious, I'd not have used it in this situation. But now that I'm in her body and my body is temporary out of action, it may be to my advantage to remain in this body until I can put The Rifleman behind bars. With this body, I can get close to the Daltons and set them up for arrest. "How long have I been here, Alfred?" I asked, hearing my slightly husky new voice echo through the room. "About two hours since the Batmobile pulled into the cave, sir." he replied. "I need you to drive me back to the waterfront and to leave me. I'll be going undercover in her body for awhile and need to get back before they become suspicious." I uttered. "May I be so bold to suggest that might be dangerous until you've had time to query our unconscious friend or to know more details about her involvement in this gang. You don't know the young lady's name or any of her history. Going back into that gang could be dangerous. And you may not find her life style to be acceptable. In my day, proper young women didn't pierce their facial areas." he reported. I looked in the mirror and saw what he was referring to. She had a small diamond nostril ring and four ear rings in one ear of this body. "Yes, it could be dangerous to go back. However, when the first bullet hit me, it knocked me and her off of the building rafters onto some boxes. Then I carried her unconscious body out of the warehouse. I'll pretend that the fall gave me amnesia and I don't remember how I escaped from the Batman. And Alfred, thanks for what you did. My body is really hurt and I can't afford to let this case grow older while I heal. As for her life style, it just shows that she likes to be current with the latest styles." I answered. "Do you want me to set the video recorder up?" Alfred asked. I looked at the clock and shook my head. "No, Alfred. I don't have time. I've got to get back there before they suspect that Batman has done something with this woman. I'll have to play this role, with my male side in charge." I responded. Alfred had hinted that I should submit myself to a self- hypnotic session and hide my masculine side, letting my feminine side control my body. When Doctor Albertson turned me into a woman, I found a new side of me that I never knew existed. I adapted to being a woman and having sex as a woman with men. I enjoyed the flirting, the make-overs where I turned my face into an attractive woman's face, wearing the clothes, and generally living the life that most women enjoy. When I swapped bodies again, I had to hypnotize myself to hide that self and to restore my masculine personality. As Batman, I don't have the time or luxury to feel those feelings and have to maintain a very Spartan personal existence. I didn't have time now to develop the type of personality that would be needed for this role and I'd have to fake a woman's personality and actions. I knew that I could handle the make-up, hair styles, and wearing the clothes because I still remembered what it was like to be a woman. The small amount of time that I had previously spent believing that I was a real woman and living as a woman, had trained me to properly apply cosmetics and to match my clothing correctly. The major problem was that being a woman, I might have to give some man a blow job and it is easier when you've strong sexual desires that permit that type of action. Chapter 3 - The Warehouse discovery Alfred wasn't happy with what I was doing but he drove me back to the waterfront and let me out. Before I left the Batcave, I hooked my real body up to an IV and started a strong sleeping potion flowing into my body. By keeping my body asleep, it would have time to heal and I'd not have to worry about some criminal controlling my body. Alfred can monitor it for me and I'll check up on it every couple of days. I was now back close to the warehouse and it had only been three hours since the gunshots started. I was role-playing and was walking funny and looking around as if I was lost. Although I knew which building the warehouse was, I'd have to pretend that I had no memory and bluff my way into the gang's confidence. Being in this body would help, but they would be curious about my memory loss. I'd have preferred going in, and pretended that I was the young lady, whoever she was; but I didn't have any clues as to her identity or her role in the gang. As I walked by the first door of the warehouse, I felt that I was being observed through a crack in the door and stumbled as if I was having trouble staying on my feet. As I approached the next door, it silently opened slightly and someone whispered "Mandy." I stopped and looked at the door. Then I slowly walked toward the door, which opened so that I could enter. As I entered the dark warehouse, I couldn't see who was in the dark shadows and only saw a dark movement as the door was shut behind me. I felt a man's long, powerful fingers grab my wrist and pull me into dark shadows as a massive hand went around my slender waist, lifting me over a door jam that I'd have fell over except for the strong hands holding me. It happened so fast that I couldn't see who was so effortlessly holding me out at arm's length as a foot kicked the warehouse door shut. My eyes weren't adapted to the dark yet and all I could see was this huge dark outline of a body beside me. I started to resist but quickly decided from the huge dark shadow of this person that they could do whatever they wanted to do with me, in this relative weak body. "Where the hell have you been? How did you get away from Batman?" asked a woman's voice. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see the person's outline that was holding me now. It was a woman and not a large man. But what a woman. She was a veritable giantess, towering almost seven foot in height. She looked like she weighed well over two hundred pounds of solid muscle. She was also dressed in an all black jumpsuit, with camouflage greasepaint on her face and a black beret covering her hair. As my eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, my first impressions of her, were her broad, powerful shoulders and massive breasts which were evident under the tight black jumpsuit. The enormous massiveness of her gigantic body made me feel very small and frail. She picked up a rifle with a laser scope and cradled it in her arms. This must be the gunman that shot me. Is she The Rifleman? I replied "Who am I? Do you know me? How did I get hurt?" She paused and then shined a small flashlight into my face. I held up my arm to block the glare. Then the light went out and she queried "What happened?" "I don't know. I woke up in an alley and didn't know who I was, much less how I got there. Do you know me? Who am I?" I continued. She put her free arm around my waist and started guiding me back through the warehouse aisles toward the lit office area. "What's my name?" she asked, in a voice that was now soft and tender. I looked at her and with a blank worried look on my face, reported "I don't know. I don't remember you at all. Do you know who I am?" "Shit. The damn fall jarred your memory. Batman had better be dead because I'll not show him any mercy now." she yelled with a icy chill in her voice. "Who is Batman? I've got to know who I am and what happened to me. Please tell me.", I asked through some tears. "Batman is a dead man. Or will be one soon, if he survived my last shot. You can bet your boobs on that. You're Mandy Thompson, my best friend and partner for the last three years. We are lovers also. I'm Janice Bell. We are currently working for Jess Dalton on a short term contract. When we finish this contract, we have two more jobs to do and then we will retire to our condo in Spain. Jess, give me some help over here." she yelled to someone behind the glass partition in the lit office as we walked under a light. I looked up at her and felt a chill go through my body as I gazed up at her. And I do mean up. The top of my head was almost level with her broad shoulders. While she was clearly the largest woman that I had ever seen, she was also very well built with a set of gigantic boobs. I had seen women with huge breasts before, but this was a huge woman and those were huge boobs. If they were on a normal woman, she would be a freak. On this woman's huge muscular frame, they were just big. At that moment, a weird image of my head sticking in one of her bra cups popped through my mind. Her bra cup had to be as big as my head. That's how big each of her breasts were. They stood out from her chest in defiance of gravity, straining the seams of her bra under the jumpsuit. Every woman who really turns me on, had a nice set of tits. Whenever I met a new woman, I'm usually interested first in her tits and then in her personality. I find it difficult to keep from hovering over a woman and peering down at the slightest cleavage she may show. And I love women wearing sweaters, as I watch their breasts bounce beneath a thin, form-fitting sweaters. When I have sex, I start off by playing with their boobs. I enjoy the sensation that I get when I rub my cock against a nice set of boobs. I rub my cock over the nipples and watch the teats swell and grow. Then sometimes, I'd push the breasts together and slid my cock between them as I squeezed and pinch the nipples. A woman told me one time that she was frustrated because more time was spent on her breasts than on the rest of her. I quit daydreaming and looked at the size of her arms and hands. Her massive biceps were as big around as my thighs, and her arms looked almost as long as my legs. She was huge, and under other circumstance, I'd have enjoyed challenging her, just to get the opportunity to wrestle with her gigantic body. And not really care if I won. I just wanted to go naked against her body and see who could pin who. In the three or four seconds that I stared at her body, I never looked at her face and when I did look up at her, I got a shock. She was one of the most beautiful women that I had ever seen. I felt a very strong feeling of awe and desire for her. Although I was in a woman's body, I still had my normal male thoughts and feelings. I couldn't get an erection but I did turned on by her very easy. I wondered if I had made a mistake by letting my masculine side control my thoughts, instead of letting my feminine side, which could deal with such confusing thoughts. Before I could let my thoughts drift much further on that tangent, a tall heavy set man came out and growled "What the fuck happened to you?" Before I could reply, Janice declared "Help me. She has been hurt and has amnesia. I've got to get her cleaned up and to a doctor." "She left here with Batman. She could be wired. Get her clothes off of her and burn them." he commanded. "It's all right. I'll check for that." answered Janice. He reached over and pulled on my top, trying to pull it off of me. I wasn't expecting this and my reaction was to knock his hand away. Before I could recover my balance, he hit me on the side of the head. I fell hard and was dazed for a moment because my head struck something as I fell. I shook my head and looked in amazement as Janice stepped forward and rammed one of her massive hands around his neck. His head jerked but not much because her hand was holding his neck still. As I watched, she slowly lifted him off of the floor with only one hand around his neck. He was kicking his feet and with his two hands, was trying to remove her hand that was squeezed around his neck. She continued lifting, until his feet were almost two feet off the ground. Then she stepped forward and with her other hand lifted him onto a wall mounted hook. She reached around him with one hand to hang his wide belt over the hook, so that he was hanging there with his feet dangling several feet off the floor. She picked up her rifle and flicked the red laser light on. I watched as the red beam zeroed in on his groin area. He looked at her with a very scared look on his face. The effect was frightening, and his body began to shake uncontrollably as he peed in his pants as he hung helplessly on the hook. She quietly responded in a very sexy, soft, southern accent "You don't know how close you came to dying. And to losing that over valued small piece of meat between your legs. If you ever touch her again, I'll kill you. But I won't use my rifle. I'll hang you up again and then use my teeth to bite your balls off. Do you understand me?" "Yeah, just let me down." he grumped. "My pleasure." she declared as she put the rifle down. She walked very slowly and seductive over to him, letting her hips swing and her boobs jiggle as she walked. She stood in front of him and slowly raised one of her large hands between his wet pants until her fingers were cupping his ass and her thumb was pressed against his cock. Then she shoved her hand up with such great strength that it lifted him completely off of the hook and she let him drop to the floor. Being a man, I shivered and crossed my legs as I thought about the pressure that she just used to lift him up and what it must have done to his balls. He was lying on the floor and was puking as he shook. Another man entered the light and looked at the man on the floor. He looked at me and announced "I don't give a shit what happens to this dipshit or her. Your contract was a quick kill for Batman. He had better be dead." Janice again answered for me. In a very cool, quite voice, she proclaimed "The contract is on hold until Mandy recovers. Give me any shit and your brains will join him on the floor. Understand." "Yeah. Get her and that damn rifle out of here. The cops have been driving around trying to find where those shots came from." he said as he turned and walked back into the office. ********* Janice held my arm and continued to lead me to the back of the warehouse. There was a van parked and she opened the door for me. As I sat down in the passenger seat, she disassembled the rifle and pressed a hidden latch. A secret panel opened in the van's door and she tucked the rifle into the compartment and shut the panel. She climbed into the driver's seat and drove out of the warehouse. It must be quite a challenge for her to drive a normal car because of her size. Even in this large van, I noticed that she didn't have much room and that her arms continuously rubbed against her large boobs. She drove for only five minutes, talking as she drove. My head had been hurting since I fell and I was getting dizzy. I don't remember much of what she discussed because it seemed as if some sort of bubble was forming around me and I couldn't touch or comprehend anything that was outside my bubble. I only barely remember the van stopped at the motel and her helping me out. Her strong arms guided me into the motel room and onto the bed. I felt very weak and disoriented. I knew that when the man hit me on the side of the head, that my head was already very tender. When the bullet knocked me off of the rafter and this body fell with me, it must have damaged her head and I didn't check her for any damage. Then I remember that as I fell from his blow, I also struck something again in the same spot. Just what I need. Not only does my real body have a concussion, but my temporary body also has a strong potential of having one also. She applied an icepack made of towels and motel ice to my tender head. The coolness of the pack felt good and took some of the pain away. Lying on the bed, I felt so relaxed that I just fell asleep. ****** I'm asleep but I'm aware of my surroundings. I know that I not in my body but am in some woman's body. But how can that be? I'm Batman. I can sense that my head is in a man's lap but I can't move or wake up. I feel very lost and confused as to where I am and how I got here. I feel the warmth and strength flowing from the man holding me and can feel the gentleness in his hands as he slowly strokes my hair. I still feel some of the fog that made me dizzy earlier, but it is not as bad now. Then from a distance, I hear his voice. No, it can't be my friend. It is a woman's voice I'm hearing. I feel the sleep release me as I open my eyes and look into the face of an angel lying beside me. She smiles and says "You worried me when you passed out. How are you feeling?" I start to sit up and stars rush across my vision as another dizzy spell hits me. But this one quickly subsides and I groan "What happened?" "I think you got a concussion. Can you sit up?" she asked. As I sit up, I focus on her hands. No, his hands. They have to be a man's hands. Although they have red fingernail polish on the long fingernails, the hand can only be a man's hand from the massive size of the hands. I shut my eyes quickly because I'm getting dizzy again and put my hand out to balance myself. My hand lands on something soft and very huge. As I open my eyes, I see that my hand is supporting me by resting on the largest boob that I've ever seen. I shake my head to clear the fog from my vision and a mass of long blond hair falls across my face. I brush it back and look at the woman in the black jumpsuit lying next to me. Then I remember her and her huge boobs. They are real. "Sorry" I say as I try to sit up. "No problem. I enjoy having you touch me." she whispered softly. She leaned forward and her lips brushed my forehead as her large hand gently brushed my hair back. She quietly announced "I'm going to take you to the doctor but I've got to make sure that you understand what to say and what not to say. There are some things that you've got to understand and to help me with. I'll explain everything to you after we leave the doctor's office. The thing that you must remember now, is that you and I are partners. We trust each other and help each other through hard times. You got hurt on a job and I'll take care of you. You cannot tell anyone who you are, about this warehouse or why we are here. You can't tell anyone how you got hurt. Do you understand?" "No, I don't understand. But I'll do as you request. I feel that I can trust you. I need your help." I requested. "Good. Now, let's get you into the shower and get both of us cleaned up. Then I'll take you to the doctor. Go into the bathroom, undress and take a shower. I've got to leave and call home for instructions from a random payphone. I'll come back after I talk with Jack for a couple of minutes, and then will get you some clean clothes. Will you be all right, Mandy?" she asked in a very tender voice. I smiled and nodded. Sure I'll be all right. After all, I am... I had to think for a second before I remembered that it was the Batman image that I was trying to remember. That life seemed so distant and far away. Funny that such a easy name would be so difficult to think of. I stood up and walked into the bathroom. My memory was slowly coming back to me now. I remembered that I was Batman and was playing a role. I knew that I had been hurt in a fall but I couldn't let anyone know who I really was. I vaguely remembered that I was pretending to have amnesia and that I had to find out more about this girl. I was still feeling dizzy as I walked into the bathroom and shut the door. I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my face and body. It was the first time that I had really looked at it because I had been so busy back in the Batcave. As I look at it, I know it isn't my face or body, but I don't care. I know that I'm on a mission and I've got to learn how to adapt. I've got to play a role. I've got to become the person that I'm pretending to be. I've got to act as if I'm this woman. I've got to convince everyone that I'm her. I can't let them know that I'm Batman. Or that my secret identity is whats-his-name. So I'm pretending to be Mandy. Mandy Thompson. And she is the partner and lover of the Janice Bell, who is The Rifleman. I say her name softly and watch my lips in the mirror as I pronounce her name. Mandy. It sounds so soft and sexy. I look at the small diamond on the left side of my nose and touch it. I can feel a small clasp inside my nostril and smile as I wonder why I ever did that to such a beautiful nose. The earrings are understood, but I don't understand the facial piercing. Looking in the mirror at my new face, I smiled to see what a smile looked like on my face. I like it. I've got a very beautiful face. Even with the greasepaint smeared all over it. Why did I do that? Oh, yeah. I remember now. It was so that I could hide in the warehouse. It reminded me of that actress. What is her name? I can see her face on the cover of a magazine. No, she is not an actress, but is Claudia Sechieffer, the model. Yeah, that's who I look like now. I removed the hairclip and ran my hand through my hair as it fell down to my shoulders. The hair was thick, blond and had some curl to it. With appropriate makeup and a little hair brushing, I'd be a very beautiful woman. I step back and take a look at the full body. I'm about 5'6", twenty-two years old and in great shape with a nice set of boobs. My boobs are nothing compared to Janice's boobs, but these boobs would make most women envious. I'm sure that I get a lot of attention from men with a nice set of full boobs like these. I eased up on my tiptoes, which makes me look taller and also highlights my firm behind. I pulled the top half of the jumpsuit off and saw that I wasn't wearing a bra. My boobs were large, about C- cup, firm, and rode high and firm on my chest. There was no sag in these breasts. My nipples were small and smooth. I looked at my half-naked body and smiled as I imagined what this body would look like, with a seductive teddy on. This woman would not be kicked out of any man's bed. I rub my hand between my breasts to see if they feel as soft as they look in the mirror. I always get very aroused when I stroke, fondle and suck boobs and wanted to see what these feel like. Any woman would be proud of these breasts; they're tight and round, even if they are big. The firmness of these breasts would be envied by most women, and I know they will get a rise out of any men. I roll a teat around and gently rub the other breast, feeling them begin to swell with this attention. The more I rub them, the more noticeable they become. I stretch my fingers wide until I rub both nipples at the same time. As my nipples are moved back and forth, my breasts get warmer and warmer. I feel a growing arousal within me. I place the palm of my hands under the tips of my breasts. I move my hands in slow, small circles, with my nipples resting in and rubbing against my palms. My hands circle faster, and my breasts begin to move in circles too. I lower my palms until only the very tips of my nipples are rubbing against the smooth skin of my hands. I notice I'm breathing heavier and heavier. I try to control my breathing, but finally openly gasp for air. My fingers press in on my teats, and I pops them in and out of my now heaving breasts. I can feel my nipples tingle as my fingers move up and down my cleavage as I stroke the insides of my breasts. Two fingers locate my growing teat and I feel chills shooting from my teat, through my breast and up my back. I flick it back and forth with one finger rapidly, and I let a short gasp escape from my mouth. My fingers move to my other nipple. When I touch it, I can't hold back another shudder. The only sound in the room is that of my ever deepening breathing. I shiver slightly as I rub the nipples because it excites me. I can't stop my arousal. I squeeze my breasts together and move them up and down. I feel an electricity beginning to travel through my breasts as a pressure builds in the breasts. My nipples tingle as my breathing becomes deeper, and my mouth opens for air. I'm astonished at how sensitive the boobs are. I feel an intense pleasure in my breasts as my fingers pinch the nipples hard, and I moan loudly as I tug on my nipples, pulling my breasts down as I flick a finger at each nipple. My breathing becomes more labored as I become more aroused as I pinch myself harder. The more I pulled them, the longer they got; the more I flicked at them, the fatter they got. My palms cup the tips of my breasts, and I start moving them in circles again in a quicker rhythm. My breathing quickens, and I grasp the very tip of each nipple firmly between my thumb and middle finger which fills me with a mixture of pain and pleasure. I releases my aching nipples and grab the tips of my swaying, sore breasts by pinching together the flesh just outside my areolas on either side of my throbbing teats. I pull them toward the floor, pulling my tits taut and away from my body. I shake my boobs quickly from side to side. I feel a stronger rush of pleasure and pain as my nubs are pinched against the flesh of my own areolae. Continuing to shake my breasts, I move a finger to the tip of each nipple and flick them. Each flick sends a shudder through me. I stop shaking my breasts only long enough to tug on them a few times. I pull them far from my body while roughly flicking my sensitive nipples faster and harder. My body shakes uncontrollably at the sensation. I release my tortured breasts, and they spring back up. I look at my nipples. They are hard and distended. My breasts are pink, swollen and throbbing. I grab one of my tits in each hand. I twist them around until their tips touch each other. As I rubs my nipples against each other, my breasts fill with an intense sexual pleasure. The sensation is more than I can control. My nipples are on fire. My body shudders and I give out a long, loud moan. I sat down on the commode and remove the boots quickly. I have to undress and masturbate myself. I stand and pull off the bottom half of the leotards. I still have on a form-fitting g-string type of thong panties and look at myself again in the mirror. Then I start pulling down the panties and get the surprise of my life. As I stared at myself, I chuckled as I thought about what Alfred would say, if he only saw this. There is a cock tucked between my legs. The g-string held it in place so it didn't create a bulge in the leotards. I'm in a she-male's body. Chapter 4 - Janice's Story Rinnnng!! Alfred walked quickly to the ringing phone. He was in the Batcave checking on the IV flowing into the still unconscious Bruce's body. "Hello." he responded when he picked up the phone. "Alfred, how are you. Are you ready for me to come home next weekend?" asked the young sounding male voice on the phone. "Yes, we are looking forward to you being with us for several weeks." responded Alfred, recognizing Dick Grayson's voice. "Where is the big guy?" continued Dick. "That is difficult to say. You see, he was involved in an accident and we had to use the WEB and he is on a case." replied Alfred. "The WEB. Holy cow. It must be a big case to use that. What sort of accident did he have?" asked Dick. Alfred quickly explained about The Rifleman and how Batman was injured by the bullet and what he was doing now. Dick listened quietly until Alfred finished and then announced "I don't like the sound of it, Alfred. Bruce got a concussion and then used the WEB. A concussion can make you act funny and think everything is normal. Even though he is now in that girl's body, he still may be hurt. And he won't realize that he is hurt. You've got to observe the person for a couple of days to make sure that they are acting OK. I think that I ought to come in there tonight and see if I can get him out. Can you get a message to him and request that he return?" "I'll try." replied Alfred. ****** I don't have an erection. Even though I've just sexually simulated and aroused myself, there is no erection on this cock. My body must be on female hormones which turn this cock into a non-functioning cock. Except for being a pee spout. Yeah, sustained high levels of certain female hormones could affect a cock this way and also make it smaller. That is why I didn't feel it between my legs. I finished undressing and get into the shower. As the lukewarm water hit my body, I relaxed. Once I was nude and under the hot spray of the shower, I got very relaxed. I closed my eyes and stood there, feeling the heat soak into my weak body. As I'm soaping my body, I hear someone enter the bathroom. "Thought you would be finished by now. I called home and they told me to bring you home." said Janice's voice. "Where's home." I asked. "Tell you tomorrow. I don't trust Jess and suspect him of bugging our rooms. For all I know, he is watching us now." hinted Janice. The shower door slid open and a naked Janice eased into the shower, sticking her head under the shower nozzle to soak her hair. She was completely nude and I looked quickly between her legs to see if she had a massive cock between her legs. After all, if I'm a she- male, then she could be too. I almost smiled when I saw the neatly shaved mound that could only contain a vagina. Then I looked up at the most noticeable features on her fantastic body. Her breasts were separated by a deep vertical muscular crevice between those two huge globes. I stared at the long nipples on her breasts and asked "How long have we been lovers?" She had a slightly puzzled frown on her forehead for a moment and then she smiled as she realized why I asked that question. She softly reported "Two years. Did you forget about your special plumbing also?" She leaned her head back and started laughing as she exclaimed "It just occurred to me that you probably thought that you were a real woman and didn't realize that you had the remains of a cock between your leg. I'd have liked to have seen your face when you discovered that." As she laughed, her great rounded mounds of soft boobs bounced up and down. They were the size of basket balls, that jiggled and bounced as she laughed. I had to look up at her. I'm about five foot six or so and she was more than a foot and a half taller than me. As she turned around in the shower, she reminded me of a very tall Arnold Schwarznegger, with her broad muscle covered body. Her wet hair was flattened down on her head and her body was glistening from the shower spray. As she laughed, I looked at her body, which was a mass of hard, solid muscle. Her upper arms were big, with large, hard biceps, and massive, corded forearms. Her hands were a paradox with the long blood red nails making her huge hands look even bigger. My eyes studied her long, thick neck and incredibly broad shoulders, that led to a wide, deep chest with those tremendous mounds of woman flesh, with prominent and erect nipples. Below her boobs, her body tapered sharply to a comparatively narrow waist and flat stomach that was washboard carved and striated with muscle that didn't have an ounce of fat anywhere. I stared at her tightly rounded hips, huge, solid thighs that seemed as thick as my body's waist, and her bulging calves. Every inch of her body was solid muscle but there was a tremendous amount of naked female muscle flesh standing in front of me. It radiated strength and power but was also lush, curved and vigorous. I watched as she parted her legs just a bit and exposed her thick pink vaginal lips. When she quit laughing, she apologized "I'm sorry. I just got this funny image of you seeing that shrunken cock between your legs and not remembering why it is there. Do you want to know who you are?" "Yes, it would help." I replied. We were pressed close together in the small shower. She picked up a bar of soap and started working up a lather on her washcloth. Her nipples brushed against my chest as she soaped her washcloth, causing me to shiver as hot points of fire radiated through her body. Janice put the soap back on the soapdish as she said "While we talk, I'll wash you and then you do me. You're twenty-six years old. Your first name is Gerald. I don't remember what your real last name was, but you've been Amanda Thompson ever since I met you. You told me that your mother was a hooker in Los Angeles and that she used to turn tricks renting you out when you were a kid. When you were nine, you ran away from home and wound up in an orphanage because you wouldn't tell them your name or where you were from. A janitor found out that you were a pushover for easy sex and kept you off the streets for almost a year." While she was scrubbing me, I glanced down at her boobs and watched her gigantic breasts jiggle as she soaped the washcloth. She continued "Then you ran away again and found that you could live quite well doing your own hooking on the street. By the time you were eleven, you were dodging the cops and wearing lipstick to attract your customers. You were picked up several times because of your youth and kept running away at the first chance. You discovered that you enjoyed sex in the feminine sense because it was all that you had every experienced. All your clients were male and used you as their sexual relief. You hated your male body and wanted to be the little girl that you were forced to pretend to be. You discovered that you liked dressing up as a girl and would dress up as a girl, even when you weren't hooking. As a girl, you could get away with things that would get you a bloody nose as a boy. Hold this." She handed me the soap and continued "You found a rich doctor, who tried to hide his pederast habits and he rented an apartment for you to stay in; or wait for him to show up in the middle of the afternoon. He had the money to dress you in style as a girl and with the make-up, you looked like a teen-age girl, instead of a pre-teenage boy. The doctor started giving you hormones. Because you were just going through puberty, the hormones changed your body during it's growing period to that of a small young girl. The hormones affected the puberty changes that your body was getting ready to go through. Instead of growing facial hair with a nice beard or mustache and broad shoulders, you began developing a very nice set of puffy teenage female breasts. This made you happy and you made your doctor friend much happier with your new sexual characteristics. Your other proper secondary sexual characteristics also were female instead of male. Your voice didn't change. You never developed a adams apple, you never grew broad shoulders but instead your hips spread and your skin retained it's baby fat and softness. Your body changed as if you had ovaries pumping out estrogen, instead of the testosterone that was being overpowered by the more powerful female hormone. Your body adapted to the hormonal changes and developed perfectly normally, just like any normal young woman's body would. Except that you didn't have ovaries or a vagina." "So I've never had surgery?" I asked. She re-soaped the washcloth and continued "You only had surgery on your lips to fill them out. This hormonal stress caused a problem with your emotions. The warring hormonal levels caused some type of mental trauma, that caused you to rebel against society and a normal lifestyle. Even after you left the doctor and found other men to take care of you, you continued taking the hormones, which continued to further shape your body so that it was soft, round, curvious, and feminine. But you gradually got your emotions under control as your testosterone levels dropped after puberty. You've been taking women's hormones to override your natural male hormones for over half of your life. You take a daily maintenance dosage and about every three months go through a heavier feminization treatment. That's why your body is so womanly and your penis is shrunken. Turn around and let me wash your back." I turned around and felt her large hand and washcloth scrub my back. She continued "About two years ago, Jack teamed us up to support one of his drug deals. He liked how we handled the problem and gave us a more challenging assignment. We have been working and living together ever since." Her hand was rubbing down my ass and felt good, the soapy pressure was relaxing me. I spread my legs slightly as she said "As for me, my body may have some characteristics that are typically associated with a male, but I'm very much a female inside and think of myself as being a female. I had a very similar childhood. My father abandoned my mother when I was seven. My father was a steel-worker and he used to have this massive set of biceps from where he man- handled the steel beams all day. I remember when I was a kid, that I used to stare at his massive chest as he walked around the house half naked. My mother was a big woman. She was six foot tall and weighed almost two hundred pounds. But she didn't take care of herself. She was overweight and very flabby. I remember seeing her large breasts hanging down, almost sagging to her belly button and thinking that I didn't want to grow up to look like that. I liked the hard masculine look of my father's chest. He was a big man and that was my mother's motto. She used to joke that she liked to do big things. She liked to fuck giants." She cupped her hands about her belly button as if that was how far her mother's breasts sagged. Then she continued "My new step-father, liked to poke his meat into my face when he was drinking and my mother was afraid of him. I couldn't take it anymore and stuck a knife between his ribs when he came into my bedroom drunk one night. I ran away from home and became a prostitute when I was thirteen because I was starving. I was six foot two then and weighed about one hundred and forty pounds with a body that looked like Miss America's body. Within a year, I shot up to six foot six and looked like a stovepipe in the crowd. I got busted everytime I turned around and I quit being a prostitute. I got a job checking ID's in a gym and started working out in my spare time. I found that I enjoyed the physical feeling of a good workout and kinda overdid it. By the time that I was sixteen, I was six foot eight inches tall and weighed two hundred and twenty pounds." "How tall are you now?" I asked. "Seven foot one inch and I weigh two hundred and sixty-five pounds. Most people misjudge my weight because of my height and body proportions. I wear a size 52 triple G bra and can benchpress three hundred pounds. Thanks to my youth and always wearing that heavy duty bra to keep my breasts supported; except when having sex or showering, my boobs don't have the sag yet that you would expect for such large boobs. I found out that genetics were the reason for my ability to build muscle mass. A lot of women have the genetics to develop muscles like mine, but don't. I liked being stronger than most men. I found a new group of men that liked muscular women and they helped me pump myself up to where I am now. My main lover enjoyed cunnilingus while my body was all sweaty and recovering from a workout session. He let his hands roam my body, caressing and petting me as his tongue satisfied me. He used to brag about how he loved caressing my flat pecs, hard ass-cheeks and washboard abs as he licked my tight, hot and juicy cunt. I'd pump myself up, get very sweaty and then let him prove that I was really a true woman. Turn around." I turned around and she started washing my face, using a very gentle pressure. She continued "You and I were the misfits working for Jack. For the first month, I thought that you were a natural woman, although Jack knew your secret because you were sleeping with him. When I found out, he begged me to not tell anyone else that the person that he had been showing off as his main woman, was really a she-male. When I found you crying one day; I discovered that you were having major physical and mental problems. A person's endocrine feedback system is intricate, delicate, and difficult to understand. I found out that you were taking injectable hormones that you didn't obtain directly from a licensed pharmacy. I knew that hormone therapy is very risky because of my personal research into my own body functions and my desires to re-shape my body. I got you to a medical doctor who was qualified to interpret your symptoms, blood tests, and development. You were self-treating yourself with estrogens and progesterones, and an androgen receptor antagonist to block the natural testosterone production. You were taking high levels of estrogen to cause faster development of your breast size, to redistribute body fat and to cause your tactile sensation to become more intense. You had been on hormones over six years and all of your body changes were permanent, but you didn't clearly understand how hormones work. The side effects of your self- treatment were causing your testes and prostrate to atrophy; and your internal emotions to become amplified, which resulted in increased anxiety, depression and emotional angst. As these side effects struck you, you changed other medication, which further compounded the problems that you were experiencing. After we got your endocrine system under control, we became lovers. Since that day, we have been a normal couple because we found something that we could share. We fell in love and have been together ever since. It's as simple as that." "What sort of sexual relationship do we have?" I asked as her hands started rubbing my breasts with the soapy washcloth, rubbing her big gentle hands all over my breasts. It was exciting to feel those enormous hands fondling and caressing me as she pretended that she was only washing me. She squeezed one of my nipples between her fingers as she gently scraped her long nails sensuously across my skin. Cupping her hands under my breasts, she lifted them invitingly, jiggling them as her hands slid over my smooth creamy flesh, caressing and squeezing them erotically before she responded "Good. We both enjoy sex. Sometimes I'm the male. Sometimes you are. But most of the time, we are a couple of lesbians. I never had sex with a woman until I met you. You had only had sex with men until you met me. You might say that we were both virgins. I was always worried that someone would pin the dyke label on me. I found myself interested in you and tried to ignore the strange feelings that I was experiencing. I was very relived to find out later that you were also just as confused as I was. We have a doubleheaded strap-on dildo that we use a lot. I put it on, insert it in my cunt and fuck your ass or you pretend to give me a blow job. Sometimes, you put it on with it in your ass and fuck either my cunt or ass. Sometimes I think that you miss being able to get your cock hard and that you really want to fuck me." "I can't even get it hard?" I asked. "Nope. That's why I try to keep you from taking too much hormones so that we can have a normal male- female relationship. We have talked a couple of times about you staying completely off of the hormones for awhile and let your normal testerone hormone activate your cock again. Then after I get pregnant, you would go back on your female hormones. We would both be the mother to our baby. But your many years of over- hormone treatment has made you infertile. So you've thought about going the full route and getting the sexual re-assignment surgery and becoming a full woman. But you didn't like the fact that you could never go back to your she-male role, which is the role that you've been most comfortable with during your difficult life. You also worry about how it might change our relationship, but I told you that I loved you and would love you as a man, as a she-male, or as a woman. So you came up the plan to find the ideal man and getting me pregnant with his baby; and we are both looking for someone that we would like to be the father of our baby. Just remember that I've got a beautiful and fully functional cunt between my muscular and masculine thighs that wants you and wants to carry our baby. Later tonight, I promise to help you remember some of those things." I felt her step forward as she spread her legs around me. I looked down as she flexed the muscles of her massive thigh, which stood out like huge cords down her legs. Suddenly she flexed her thigh muscle and my hands moved of their own violation to touch that powerful bulge of muscles. She relaxed and her thigh returned to its normal size. Once more she tensed her thigh and I felt a very strong sexual desire for her. I wanted to reach up and grab one of those gigantic breasts because I was feeling very strong desire for this beautiful woman. I melted into her huge arms and let her pull me tight against her firm wet, soapy breasts. Her breasts were almost at my neck level and by slightly bending my legs, I was able to slide my head in between her breasts, letting them rest on my shoulders, as my tongue licked at her cleavage. With her huge hands, she cupped my ass as she pulled me closer to her body. She bent her head down and I raised my lips to meet hers. I looked up at the beautiful face smiling down at me and knew that I had to make love with her. I felt her run her hands over my flat stomach, causing me to suck in my breath sharply at her touch. Teasingly, she slid her hands lower, lathering under my balls and along the length of his shaft, slipping her hands between my legs and running her finger in the crack of my ass. She picked up the bar of soap and started rubbing the very firm, but slippery bar of soap up and down my ass crack. I was breathing heavily now because she had me aroused, but knew that I didn't have an erection. If this prick would not stand at rigid attention after the gentle touch of her hands, it was definitely dead. "Oh, Mandy, I was so worried that I'd lose you." she whispered softly, as her hands begin kneading my breasts. "Just relax and feel the pleasure that I can bring you, my darling Mandy. I only want you to feel get well and to stay with me forever.". She began nuzzling at my damp face as I listened to her sexy voice, which is almost a drug enticing me into an almost trance state. I raised my mouth to her much higher mouth