Part One:
It had been a strange night of crimefighting for Bruce, patrolling in the armor of Batgirl. Normally he'd be exhausted chasing the criminal goons across rooftops and down alleys. This night, it was as though the criminals were coming to him.
One henchman stood as if already concussed, grinning a gold-toothed smile as 'Batgirl' bore down on him. Bruce leaped into a spinning kick, his heavy, sloshing tits serving as wonderful counterweights as he landed on the man, pinning him to the wet pavement, the man's neck crushed between Bruce's thick thigh and calf.
Delight sparkled in the thug's eyes, while his face was turning purple from the pressure on his windpipe. "Nggh, oh god, yes," he blurbled, sinking willingly into unconsciousness with a broad smile.
Hearing footsteps behind him, Bruce rolled off the body into the cat-like crouch he'd seen Selina Kyle use, bent low to present a small profile, spine arched, raindrops drumming off his upthrust ass. A dozen henchmen faced him.
"Which one of you is next?" he snarled, the attempted threat turning into a husky invitation.
As one, the dozen men stood forward.
A single acrobatic spin from his stiletto sent half of them on their ass. One grappled him from behind, thick fingers grasping at the chest-mounted bat-symbol, as something hard thrust against Bruce's leather-clad buttocks. Bruce rolled forward, flinging the groper into another thug.
Are they even trying? Batman wondered, trapping two criminals into chokeholds under his armpits, their faces crushed against his silicone tits, suffocating on the soft flesh. Releasing their inert forms, Batman studied the fallen men around him. And why do they keep passing out with erections?
The last one remained. Bruce kicked his legs from under him and landed on his chest, his muscular thighs wrapped tight about the man's neck. "All I have to do is squeeze and you're dead."
"I always dreamed I'd die like this," the thug gasped.
"Where is the Joker hiding?" Bruce snarled.
"I don't know, I swear to god."
"SWEAR TO ME."
"Nggh, yes, mommy," the man groaned in a shuddering exultation, his body convulsing, his face burying itself against Bruce's spandex crotch. At long last, the man lay back in satisfaction, the throbbing tent in his pants softening. "Joker's down by the docks. Warehouse 7."
Batgirl swept of him. The thug watched her full, toned ass sprint towards her motorbike. "Y'know I'm here most nights," he called after her.