Dandy Dawson, the silver-haired promoter of the Tri-State Wrestling Federation, looked across the desk at Coach Stan. The Ebony Coach had his face down as he read the letter Dawson had received from a Superhero:
“Dear Mr. Dawson,
I am a 25-year adult male. I was orphaned at an early age but was fortunate to be adopted by a wonderful man who mentored me to become the proud and confident man I am. He also trained me physically to be a strong warrior who does not back away from a fight, especially when evil comes knocking.
“Along the way, my adoptive father taught me how to wrestle. I specialize in aerobatic moves and a variety of scissor holds. He says I am now ready to become the next star and indeed Champ of the TSWF. He would accompany me as my Coach but unlike some of the trainers in your Fed he would not interfere in my matches. He won’t need to anyway because I’ll pretty much destroy anyone you put up against me.
“I stand 5’10” and weigh 175 pounds. I have longish dark black hair that frames my face. My skin is a very pale—almost translucent white. My eyes are a deep cerulean blue. I have 49” sculpted pecs with large pink nipples. There is no hair on my upper body except for trimmed black pit hair and a black treasure trail that extends from my belly button downward across my hard lower abs until it reaches my cropped black pubes. I have 19” biceps and broad shoulders that taper like a “V” down to my 32” waist. My defined quads are 33”. I wear a midnight blue Spandex suit with a light blue “V” that spreads across my chest and a black mask surrounding my blue eyes.
“I will fight any opponent you put forward and I shall prevail. When the match is over, I shall claim the loser with my manhood. You’ll have to guess at its size. You won’t be disappointed. I have written my email address and phone number below. I hope to hear from you.
“Nightwing”
“Well?” Dawson said as Stan looked up from the letter.
“It’s…legit, boss,” the Coach observed, “I know a little bit about this dude’s backstory.”
Dandy arched his right eyebrow, “I thought you might. What can you tell me?”
Stan hesitated then said, “Well, I know that part about his adoptive father being a ‘wonderful man who mentored me to become the proud and confident man” is not exactly the truth.”
“Really?” Dawson asked.
“Yeah, the two dudes have a history and it’s not all love and respect history either,” Stan remarked.
The promoter leaned back in his chair, “Tell me more, Stan, tell me about that history.”
The Coach nodded then said, “It had been brewing for some time when the press conference was held at Gotham Hall. Nightwing had adopted his new identity, not wanting to stand in Batman’s shadow any longer. But Batman…he wasn’t ready to accept that or share the limelight on an equal footing.”
“Hmmmm,” Dawson said, now laser-focused on Stan’s story.
“Anyway, Batman and Nightwing had just nabbed the infamous criminal Bane. It was a huge achievement capturing the Brawny Brawler. Mayor Linseed and Commissioner Gordon held a big media circus to make the announcement. The reporters started shouting questions at the Superheroes…."
Gotham Hall
“Batman! Batman! What does it feel like to capture Bane?” the reporters hollered as camera flashes lit up the press room at Gotham Hall. The 6’2”, 210-pound square-jawed Caped Crusader stood calmly at the lectern with a look of grim determination on his face. All of his upper body muscles bulged against the Kevlar thread and carbon nanotube fibers of his dark gray bodysuit. His sculpted pecs and abs reflected in the glare of the flashing cameras.
At his shoulder—grinning with his arms crossed—stood Nightwing. He was 5’10” and 175 pounds of lean, hard muscle. The Superhero wore a dark blue bodysuit with a light blue abstract eagle imprinted across his chest. Light blue stripes circled his calves. His cerulean eyes were framed by a light blue mask. 25-year old Nightwing had longish black hair that surrounded his handsome face.
Mayor Linseed and Commissioner Gordon stood on each side of the Superheroes beaming with joy.
“It feels…. It feels great,” Batman said, “to have that monster back in jail where he can do no more harm to the good people of Gotham City.”
One reporter yelled, “And Nightwing, how do you feel about Bane’s capture?”
“I….” the younger Superhero began but Batman cut him off, “He feels like I do. Great.”
Another member of the press corps shouted, “What role did Nightwing play?”
“I….” the younger muscle hunk began, but Batman stepped firmly in front of him, flexing his 50" chest and saying, “He observed my takedown of Bane, and I’m sure he learned quite a bit. He’ll be ready to participate the next time we face a villain.”
“Are you saying you alone captured Bane?” another reporter asked.
“Well,” Batman replied, “I’m saying give credit where credit is due. Robin…er I mean Nightwing…watched my every move. He’ll be a terrific crime fighter... someday.”
Commissioner Gordon stepped forward, “That’s a wrap folks, you have your story. Bane will be psychologically evaluated at Arkham Asylum. We expect he’ll be transferred to Blackgate Penitentiary pending his trial for murder, vandalism and other crimes.”
The room erupted in shouts from the assembled media, but Batman turned, grabbed Nightwing’s right elbow and walked to a side door. Without pausing, the two Superheroes left the room followed by Linseed and Gordon.
Minutes later…
Batman and Nightwing walked alone down a long, dark corridor. They were headed towards the Batmobile parked in an alley next to City Hall.
Nightwing said, “What the fuck was that about, Bruce?”
“What do you mean?” replied the Caped Crusader.
“All that shit about you capturing Bane and me just watching?” Nightwing said incredulously, “I mean, c’mon, that’s not what went down.”
Not responding, Batman opened the door to the alley and strode out ahead of Nightwing. The Dark Knight then pivoted to face his ward.
“You think you’re ready to be a Superhero like me, don’t you?”
“I…I…” Nightwing stuttered.
Batman launched himself forward and speared Nightwing’s abs with his right shoulder. BAM! “OOF!” The younger muscle hunk doubled over next to the building’s brick wall. He fell to his knees gasping for air. Nightwing’s face bumped into Batman’s prominent bulge and rested there. He could feel The Dark Knight’s manhood beginning to swell and smell his masculine scent.
“That’s where you belong,” Batman sneered, “Don’t think for one moment you're anything without me. This whole Nightwing thing is a load of crap. When we get back to the mansion, Alfred will have your Robin bodysuit ready.”
“But,” Nightwing groaned, his lips pressing slightly into Batman’s tenting bulge.
The Caped Crusader fisted the younger stud’s long black hair and pressed his face into his crotch, “Shut up, Bitch! I’m sick of your Nightwing act.”
Abandoned Warehouse, Gotham City
Tap! Tap! Tap!
The Clown Prince of Crime heard the tapping of the window at the corner of the large loft space. It was late on a rainy night with thunder cracking and lightning flashing outside.
Dressed in his trademark purple hat and suit and green shirt, the Joker let out a cackle and ordered his thug Jonny Frost, “Find out who that is, Jonny!”
Frost approached the window and gasped, “It’s…it’s Nightwing, boss.”
“Well, let him in,” the Joker instructed, “We have nothing to hide…at least not yet.”
Frost opened the window and Batman’s younger crime fighting partner slid through the opening. Dripping from the rain, he moved towards the Joker in his dark blue Spandex bodysuit and matching boots. His longish black hair flowed around his face. He held his trademark batons in both gloved hands.
“This is a surprise,” the Joker said with a hint of glee, “What brings Nightwing to my doorstep. That is your name now, right?”
“Yes, Joker,” the young man replied as he slid his batons into the sleeves of his bodysuit, “I’m here to…to ask for your help.” At 5’10”, Nightwing had to look upwards at the 6’5” Clown Prince.
“My help?” the Joker laughed.
“Weirdly,” Nightwing explained, “You and I may share a desire to teach the Caped Crusader a lesson…one of…humility or…”
“Humiliation?” the Joker suggested. His bright red lips curled wide in a smile.
“Maybe,” Nightwing said. White-haired muscle goon Jonny Frost had moved behind Nightwing. In his right hand, the albino held a pistol. He peered over the crime fighter’s left shoulder at his boss, looking for a signal of some kind.
The Joker shook his head, “No need Jonny. Our friend comes in peace.”
Nightwing slammed his elbow backwards into Frost’s gut—OOF!—forcing him to drop his weapon, which skated across the warehouse floor.
As Frost doubled over, the Joker said, “Now, now, there’s no need for violence. What exactly are you proposing, Nightwing?”
The young crime fighter pushed a strand of black hair from his face. He said, “I want to make Batman respect me and my decision to stand on my own. I thought you especially would know how to go about that.”
The Joker looked thoughtful then grinned widely, “Well, I have an idea, but it might require you to become…bait for the Bat.”
Nightwing arched his masked eyebrows, “Bait?”
"Oh don’t worry…. It’ll be fun!” the Clown Prince said gleefully, “We’ll need to pretend I’ve kidnapped you…and are holding you in exchange for…something. But to be bait, it might mean you’ll need to play the role of a…slut.”
“Hmmmm,” Nightwing mused, “If that’s what it takes, I can do that.”
The Joker let out a loud cackle. He put his arm around Nightwing’s shoulder, “Oh my dear boy, with your help, I'll make sure Batman is taught his lesson.”
(To be continued.)
Author's Note: This is my first foray into Superhero territory. I was inspired by some of Alex Miller's Superhero stories published on his fantastic blog, AlexMillersCave. I hope you enjoy!
