I got the call about 5:45 am. It woke me from a sound sleep. It was the
kind of call no husband, ever wants to get. The kind of call that hurts
you, enrages you, makes you more violent, more helpless than you ever
thought possible.

"Mr. Pressman, John Pressman? This is officer Sloptvik with the NYPD
Special Victims Unit. I need you to meet me at Franklin Memorial
Hospital. Your wife has been raped. Her condition is serious, but
stable. She's in room 327."

I was in a fog as I dressed and then drove to the hospital. "Serious but
stable", what the fuck is that?

I soon found out.

I entered room 327 and realized I must have had the wrong room. An older
woman was lying in the bed, she had bruises all over her face and a cast
on her arm. Clearly she was in a lot of pain. She looked up when I
entered the room.

"Excuse me ma'am I did not mean to disturb you, they gave me the wrong
room #."

She stared at me and as her eyes came into focus, she began to cry.

"...John..." she groaned in a piteous, cracked voice. How did she know
my...

"Oh my god, oh no god--Susan!" I screamed as I rushed to her side. I
wanted to grab her, to hug and kiss and hold her...but she was in so
much pain. He had beat my wife badly. I knew enough about rape to
understand that my wife probably did not want a man touching her right
then. It could be awhile before she could stand that.
"John...I'm so sorry....he got me. He raped me. I was so stupid, he
tricked me," she sobbed.

Instinct took over as I gently held the woman I love and shushed her.
"Oh baby girl, please don't say that, don't ever think it. This is not
your fault, the police will find out who he is from DNA and he will
pay."

"John I know who he is, he's a supervisor in my office. His name is
Bruce Kent."

I had a name to focus my hatred on, but I was somewhat controlled
because I knew the police would put him in Jail.

"I have to tell you what he did, I can't keep this a secret. John,
please let me get it out, I have to. "

I crawled into bed with my wife and wrapped her in my arms, as gently as
possible.

"Tell me baby, tell me what he did to you."

"I had noticed him before. We both worked the 8:30 t0 5 am shift--in
different departments. He seemed friendly enough, and we'd chat briefly
sometimes. I told him I was happily married and he seemed to respect
that.
I parked my car and was walking in to work early at 8pm, when I saw him.
He had a flat tire on his mini van and was trying to change it. He
called me over and asked to use my cell phone. When I got close he
slammed me in the face and stomach and pushed me into the van. Then he
drove to the top level of the parking garage. At that time of night it
was only a skeleton crew, and they all parked near the door on the first
floor. I must have blacked out, because the next thing I knew I was
naked, bound, and blindfolded.

His fucking hands were roaming all over, pinching, slipping inside
me--playing with me. He must have sucked my breasts for 5 minutes, and
he kissed me over and over.

"Mmm, nice and tight slut, I'm gonna fuck every hole you have. You're
gonna be my whore tonight. Suck my cock, lick my balls, lick my ass and
toes. Anything, everything I want. If you don't, if you hesitate...I'm
gonna beat the shit out of you. Get me hard bitch, suck my toes, lick in
between them. Do it...DO IT! Ok you asked for it, " He said with a growl
as he began kicking me, stomping me for my refusal.

"Let's try again. Suck my toes you fucking slut.. Mmm much better. Every
one, use that tongue, lick me good--don't forget the heel...
Outstanding, see that wasn't so bad. I bet your husband loves that tiny,
wet mouth of yours. Oops look at the time, I don't want to be late for
work, gotta go clock in. Don't worry I'll be back soon. I'm fucking your
mouth next." He gagged me, and handcuffed me in place. The van had
curtains, and he put one of hose cardboard sunscreens in the front
window. He was gone for about an hour.

"Hey honey I'm back. I talked to a few people, I assigned lots of work,
and sent several e-mails. I'll go check on everybody soon. But I'm ready
for a hot Susan Pressman blowjob. I'm taking your gag off again. The
first time you scream, or try to bite, I'm knocking your teeth out. Now
get to work. "

I sucked him John, I sucked another man's cock....I was so scared."

"You did the right thing baby, as long as you survived, you did the
right thing."

My wife seemed to relax a little at my words and just let me hold her
and kiss her hair for a few minutes.

"It took about 10 minutes. After I swallowed his cum, he said I was a
good girl and deserved a reward. For the next 15 minutes he licked my
pussy and nibbled my clit. I tried not to but, I came for him."

 That surprised me at first, I mean, he was raping her! Then I thought
about it. If a woman tied me up and sucked my cock for 15
minutes....yeah, I'd cum.

"Of course you did baby, anybody would. It's not your fault." My wife
turned her bruised head and gave a small wet peck on the mouth before
saying, "I love you."

"He left me again this time for about 2 hours." "You know your dept is
pretty pissed at you. You really should call if you are not coming in.
They are buried in your work. Really Susan it's just good manners. I'm
rested up, and just took a Viagra. It's time I got that tight pussy and
hot little ass."

 It was a nightmare. He fucked me over and over. He kept switching
holes. He fucked my ass for awhile, and then pulled out and made me suck
him clean, before he began pounding my pussy. Cruel, vicious rips--he
wanted to hurt me, to destroy me. The only thing that saved me is your
cock is so much larger than his. Still I wasn't lubed, so it was
incredibly painful. He came inside my pussy twice in that hour.

" So good sweetheart, I knew you'd be tasty. We're pretty much done. I
still need my ass licked, and I want to take some pictures. Of course we
need to clean you up too. We'll do that when I come back." Again he was
gone for about an hour. This time he laid me on my back and made me eat
his ass out. He straddled my face and began to drill me deep.

"I've got 45 minutes before I have to clock out. You have a decision to
make. I want you to make love to me, suck, kiss, lick, fuck, willingly,
wantonly. If you do when the shift is over, I will let you go. If you
don't, I'll keep you for the whole weekend, maybe let my friends fuck
you too."

I let him have me, I did my best to please him. Every sex trick I knew,
I did for him. He fucked my pussy, and ass, and I begged him for more
like a cheap whore. Then he started spitting on me, and I opened my
mouth. He spanked my asss, and then started smacking me hard in the face
and I kissed him, I asked him to rape me harder. I told him he was the
only man I had ever loved and gave him my wedding ring. He had a digital
camera and I let him spread me, film me, any way he wanted. Oh John he
took so many pictures. I was terrified, I thought he would kill me. I
betrayed you, I betrayed our marriage. You'll never see ME again, just a
stupid, sick bitch who made love to her rapist," she cried and whimpered
hopelessley.
 
I was crying too. Something precious had been taken from us. Maybe after
that asshole was sent to jail for 30 years...maybe.

"It's not your fault baby, he'll pay for this I swear he'll pay."

 Bruce Kent was a very smart guy. He had given himself the perfect
alibi. Over a dozen people had seen him throughout the night. He had
sent e-mails all shift long. He clocked in and out on time. He rinsed
out Susan's pussy, hair, and spit covered face with 2 soapy squeeze
bottles, and made her drink half a bottle of tequilla and 2 valliums
when he was done. Then he set her free, completely naked in an alley
several blocks away just after 5am.

Best of all he did not own, or rent a minivan. Between his alibi, and
Susan's drugged/drunk state, and no forensic evidence-- the DA decided
not to prosecute. You might fool a lawyer, but the cops know the smell
of shit, they knew he was guilty. Detective Bullock kept saying "What
about her car, why would she leave her car at work if she was out
popping pills and chugging tequilla?"

Every day I looked at my wife and knew she would never get over this.
She jumped at every unexpected sound or touch. She looked like a broken
creature with no self esteem.
I began to feel like she expected me to do SOMEthing, to come to her
rescue. I tried. I talked to the police, the DA. I even tried to sue
Kent in Civil court. No luck. My wife could see how helpless, how
impotent I really was. It shamed me.
I decide to do something about it. After all, I knew his name, and where
he worked.

I guess before I explain this, I better explain about me. And Batman.
Now I'm not talking about that Adam West crap, or the Scooby Doo guest
star. I'm talking about, for lack of a better word--is the real Batman.
The boy whose parent's brains and blood splattered all over him, when
some piece of shit murdered them for no reason. He grew into a man who
sneered at scum, who liked to hurt them, scare them, invoke pure terror
in them. Call him by his true name the "Dark Knight". If you've never
met this version of Batman, try reading Frank Miller's graphic novel
"The Dark Knight Returns".

I grew up on it as a kid, I soaked it in as a teenager. I still
remember. No he did not kill--he made crooks wish they were dead. He
made them pay. He was all about vengance and justice. It was
almost...biblical.

My wife deserved justice, and I would give it to her.

I went to her job and watched her go in early, just like always. She had
refused to quit, she just carried mace and a security whistle. A few
minutes later asshole showed up. I had taken the bus, from where I had
left my car. I never let him get out. I just hit him 3 times with my
stun gun through his rolled down window. I pushed him to the passanger's
side and drove his fancy, loser sports car out of there. Glad he sprung
for the tinted windows.
It was dark when I pulled into my garage. I unloaded the trash,
handcuffed him , zapped him again and maced him just for fun. Then I put
my gloves back on and drove to a seedy area, and left the keys in the
ignition. Then I walked 4 blocks uptown to the parking lot I had left my
car in, and drove home.

It was 9:45.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey, I said as I kicked Bruce awake.

We were in my sound proof basement now, and he was tied naked on the
carpeted floor.

"Huh, where am I what did you do? HELP!!"

"SSSSh Brucie, be a good girl for me now. Do you know who I am? I'm
Susan Pressman's husband."

"Nooo! No please I did not do it, I'm so sorry!" he wailed in
contradiction as he pissed himself.

"I've done some research Brucie-girl. The most expensive call girl I
could find was $3,000 per night. You could do anything you wanted to her
but you had to wear a condom, and if she was injured there was a $2,000
penalty. So lets do a little math Brucie. I've decided my wife is worth
10 times any call girl. You did injure her so that's $5,000 X 10. You
owe her $50,000. You did not use a condom, and let's face it she is not
a call girl--you raped her. I'm going to charge you $25,000 for that.
Her ER, Hospital, and Physical Therapy came to 28,000--yes insurance
paid most of that, but I am collecting for them too. Finally, you just
ruined my carpet by pissing on it. I'm going to charge 5,000 to replace
all the carpeting down here. So....you owe $108,000. A top of the line
call girl gets $5000 to be abused, but you are not top of the line. I
will give you half, $2,500 a session. You can stay right here until you
pay us back, then I will let you go. I'm gonna enjoy your sweet little
faggot mouth. I don't know if I can stand fucking you--we will see.
Don't worry though Susan's brother Ron, is gay. I'm sure he will help
out once I explain what you did to his baby sister."

"Please god, please no don't do this to me!!" he shrieked like a little
girl.

"You got a purty mouth Brucie, and I'm gonna fuck it...but I think I
want my toes sucked first. Lick between them and don't forget the heel."

Epilouge

Susan got home around 5:30 and I was just plum tuckered out.

"C'mere baby we need to talk. I did something tonight and you need to
decide if you want to be part of it. Go downstairs and look in the
basement."

"Ok John, but why are you being so mysterious..."

"John what have you done, Bruce Kent is in our basement?! Oh my god are
you going to kill him? I know what he did but murder is wrong."
 
"Such a sweet baby. No I will not kill him unless you want me to. He
raped you, an I will rape him. Susan he took something precious from
you. I want you to take it back. Rape that piece of shit Susan. Make him
scream, beg, cry for YOU. Shove a dildo up his ass, put his balls in a
vise, slap him kick him pisss on him, shit on him--until you feel
justice has been done. Remember how he made you feel, what he did to you
fo no reason, and then be fair to him."

My wife tucked her head and cried for a long time. Then she looked at me
and said, "I love you, I can't believe you did this for me. How long can
we keep him?"

The police are not dumb. It was a week before they began to look for
him. The Doorbell rang, It was Detective Bullock.

"Good Morning Mr. Pressman, do you remember me? I wanted to alert you
that Bruce Kent has gone missing. Now missing persons cases are no big
deal. But murder investigations are. Do you have an opinion on whether
we will see Mr. Kent again?"

I looked into the cold eyes of the cop before me. He knew! He knew, and
as long as we did not kill him, did not care.

"Oh his kind are like rats and roaches they always turn up. I wouldn't
be surprised if you found him wandering the strets naked in a week or
so. I would not be surprised at all."

DET Bullock stared at me for 30 seconds and then a wicked grin flashed.

"And Justice for All," he said as he turned and walked away.

Author's Note

I was thinking about comics the other day. SpiderMan, X-men, Daredevil,
Hulk, and Punisher. I grew up with them. They even made comics out of
Star Trek and Star Wars-- all have made mega million as movies, books,
DVDs and video Games.
But when I was a kid the only hero for me was "The Batman" -- that's the
correct way to say it, like a tittle, wth respect. You never said "The
Superman". Whenever the question came up of "Who would win in a fight
between Batman and Superman (As it always, always did Ad infinitum, Ad
naseaum). I always knew somehow, some way, The Batman would come
through, find a way to win.

So what would The Dark Knight do if you raped his wife? Fight you,
arrest you? No, he would crush you, he would find a way to break
you--but he would not kill you.
 
He'd make sure that justice was done.

There, now I can rest easy.

Drop me a line