You were the first to wake up.
Groaning hard on one side, you fell back on your determination and will to win in order to summon the strength, or at least dignity, to get up first.
Your biceps felt like they had held the whole weight of the world in their hands, and for once, it was almost tempting to acquiesce to their demands, and just relax. Even for a split second.
But you knew what you had to do, what had to be done.
Hearing her faint moan, you knew that Knockout was still active. In fact, it was a miracle you were able to incapacitate her this long. However, you knew what had to be done.
Rolling over on your stomach, you stared up blankly at the ceiling lights for a second. They were faint, almost dismal, but they at least filled you with some resemblance of hope, hope that you could win this battle yet.
Of course, hope doesn’t come when you’re just laying around.
Using that as the driving force, you began to push yourself up, using your elbows to support your resilient albeit very wobbly ascent. Bringing one knee up to your chest, you finally managed to attain a crawling position, right in front of the still downed Knockout.
Narrowing your eyes, you couldn’t help but pity her quite humbled form. Her face was now a mess of assorted bruises, cut lips, blackened eyes, and broken noses. She was quite literally wearing a crimson mask!
Not letting that distract you, you began crawling towards her sprawled out form. Her body deflated like a paper bag constantly, leaving you to believe that she was done for.
Your hand accidentally brushed against her bright green boot, somehow reinvigorating her efforts. Evidently realizing that you were still conscious, Knockout began to scurry away, but you had enough running for one night.
Planting a firm palm on her ankle, you anchored her to you somehow, and considering her deflated form, it wasn’t that hard to do. Reaching into your utility belt, you produced a pair of bat-shaped handcuffs.
Her peripheral vision must’ve seen the glimmer of the metal, because she renewed her efforts almost tenfold, thrashing against your clutch. So much so that you tightened your grip over her boot, not realizing that you were inadvertently loosening up the strings.
Finally, she turned back towards you, a resilient yet weary look on her bloated face. She was becoming fatigued, but you were just getting started.
With one final effort, she pushed against your grip with finality, tearing her leg away from your grip, but your grip on her boot had been so tight that it had removed her shoe.
As soon as her boot was wrenched away from you, you were instantly entranced by the beauty that lied within the green footwear, so much so that you were frozen still by its mere presence.
Your eyes widened in mere shock, as you involuntarily gazed at her now freshly bared foot. A pale yet intoxicating beauty, her toes wiggled nervously as you glared at them, leafy green nail polish appropriately adorned on each one. Her foot was a size 9, well-proportioned and slender with every toe perfectly graduated from the pinky all the way to the big toe. Just grasping her ankle with one hand, you were able to feel her silky soft skin caress your glove, almost massaging it. It was almost surreal, being able to feel Knockout’s sweaty yet silky sole caress your hand, so surreal in fact that it almost entranced you to stare at the bared limb.
Normally, such a petty and otherwise unnoticeable thing like a woman’s foot would seem oblivious to you, almost trivial. But in this case, it was hard for you to focus on anything but her bare foot. The way her toes flexed and stretched when you rested your eyes on her, the way her wrinkles smoothed themselves out when you almost involuntarily stroked her sole. It was almost like she was showcasing the foot, and to your utter chagrin, you were falling for it.
“What are you-?” Knockout started to growl, before her eyes met yours, the beginnings of what seemed like lust building in your eyes. Her eyes widened, almost in disbelief, as you, the Dark Knight, the caped crusader, fixated on her bare foot.
It was your sudden fixation that gave her the unexpected advantage on your duel, allowing her to silently retract her other boot while you continued staring at her bare foot longingly. And as she reared her leg back, you remained focused on her bare foot.
Finally, your sudden lust-fueled hesitation would prove to be your downfall, as she suddenly slammed her boot right into your nose, the impact sending you reeling back with a howl of pain.
With a cry, you toppled over on your side, grabbing frantically at your now profusely bleeding nose. A new wave of pain surged throughout your body as blood seeped through your fingers. You instantly cursed yourself for letting your guard down, instead letting perverse thoughts pollute your disciplined mind.
As soon as her booted sole connected, you could painstakingly hear the distinct sound of flesh against metal, and a sound quite equivalent to that of a branch snapping in the woods.
Knockout had broken your nose!
That thought seemed to resonate with you as you lay there on your back, your peripheral vision catching her scurrying away towards the machinery.
Tasting blood in your mouth, you were utterly defenseless as you heard her footsteps draw nearer and nearer, foreshadowing perhaps, of the foe who was finally able to bring you down.
“I had you all wrong, Batman. This is much more interesting than I had hoped,” came her mocking sneer to your right.
Just as you managed to raise to your chin, your vision was suddenly clouded by a familiar sight: Knockout’s bare foot.
Before you could react, Knockout suddenly slammed her bare foot into your throat, causing you to instantly gag and gurgle, her foot nearly snapping your windpipe in two. You tried to pry her foot off with one hand, but it was utterly futile. It was a miracle that her superhuman strength didn’t crush your throat entirely right then and there. Her silky smooth sole planted firmly over your throat, you soon found yourself the unwilling audience to her smug speech.
You glowered resentfully as you looked up at Knockout, who now held the Mega-Rod in one hand. Brandishing the weapon, she there proceeded to level it with your nose.
“I’ll admit, I would’ve never taken you for a guy with a foot fetish, Batman. Heck, every time I tried to convince Superboy to give me a foot massage, he’d magically be on the other side of the planet or something. But I guess you learn something everyday, huh?” she grinned devilishly, laughing as she grinded her bare heel against your throat, causing you to cough when you tried to retort.
“I know I did,” she added in an alluring, seductive tone, continuing to apply pressure.
Your hands clawed at her head desperately, but to no avail. She merely clicked her lips together disapprovingly at your futile efforts of resistance. Only to add insult to injury, she began working her way up your chin, her toes beginning to swamp your vision.
“Can’t say I don’t blame you Batman. I’d be in love with myself if I could a whiff of these bad boys,” she added, wiggling her painted toes all over your chin, causing you to cringe instinctively. Noticing your reluctance, she pressed your cheek against the floor with her toes, laughing at your plight.
“Well what are you waiting for then, lover? You know you want to,” she taunted seductively, caressing her toes against your face, causing you to cringe yet again.
As much as you hated to admit it, the aroma emanating from her bared foot was quite euphorious, entrancing even. A mix of peach lotion rubbed in with sweat accumulated from the battle actually provided a welcoming smell. In fact, as her toes began flexing in between your nose, you were actually beginning to breathe in her scent, if only to filter through to the oxygen.
Tilting her head to the side playfully, Knockout released an excited breath as she saw you beginning to inhale her foot odor, which only seemed to further get her in “the mood.”
“You couldn’t beat us all, Batman. I hope you realize that now. No offense to your escaped mental patients but even they couldn’t hold a candlelight to us. I mean, Barbara’s a full-on African Goddess, Carol’s the freakin’ Star Sapphire, bearer of the most powerful part of the Emotional Spectrum, and I stood by Darkseid’s side and fulfilled his wishes to the letter. In the end, I’m afraid love, you simply aren’t in our league,” she declared bashfully, brushing one strand of hair to the side dismissively at you.
Her toes were now firmly entrenched in the crevices between your nose. Your protest were becoming more and more suppressed as she clamped her sweaty sole over your mouth. In short, you were being humiliated like no other, and you could do nothing to stop it.
Now caressing your cheek almost affectionately, she cooed as you continued to struggle, refusing to succumb to her aroma, no matter how soothing it was. Now just trampling on you, Knockout was clearly enjoying every second of this.
“But still, I suppose even ants have to be given bread crumbs,” she sighed, continuing to caress your nose.To your left, she began untying the lace to her other boot, wiggling her foot free of its confinement, and kicking it free. Now, she rested her left foot beside your face, stretching her green painted toes across from you.
“Maybe I’ll let you live,” she declared, before her voice suddenly dropped to a more sultry, almost naught tone, “as my footslave!”
Safe to say, you did not respond kindly to this offer.
Those words seemed to reinvigorate your struggles to escape, which amounted to another a few seconds before she pinched your nose shut with two toes, eliciting a grimace from you.
“Tsk tsk, Batman. You act like you have a choice in the matter,” she scolded you playfully, wagging a disapproving finger at you.
“On Apokolips, after my sister and I fought many glorious battles inside the arena, we would kneel at the feet of the winner, and kiss the hems of her sandals. It was a tradition, and while some of us got a bit...overzealous, it taught us humility. Something that I feel you have a desperate need of.”
She then hovered her bare foot above your face, arching it so that the light could showcase her wrinkled sole.
“Kiss my feet, Batman, and I might let you live,” she offered,
“Never,” you growled, still trying to hang on to some resemblance of your dignity.
“I’d thought you’d say that,” she replied, before suddenly leaning towards you, aiming the Mega-Rod literally inches above your nose.
“You can kiss my feet, and accept defeat nobly, or you can reject my kind offer, and kiss the ground six feet under!”