Chapter 1: Curiosity
[Pre-Story Bit]
I’m gonna keep this bit short and sweet this time. This story is one of three possible big, multi-chapter stories that are in the running to become my main project after I finish Daddy’s Home, and in gratitude to my faithful readers, I’m giving my fans control over its course! [redacted]
Content warnings: Huge cock, adultery, cock-worship, rough sex, voyeurism (kinda), female masturbation, and possibly excessive exposition.
[/Pre-Story Bit]
[Preview]The Hub. Where everything comes together. If secretive extra-dimensional transit networks had slogans, or needed them, that would be the Hub’s. Looking at the Hub terminal from the outside would be technically impossible, since the outer walls of the structure are co-existent with the absolute boundaries of the stabilized extradimensional pocket in which the Hub existed, not to mention the absolute lack of light sources. But if such a thing were possible, one might see a structure shaped like a short, fat cylinder, nearly half a mile across but only two hundred feet tall. Along the narrow edge of the shape bristles a belt of hundreds of rectangular projections.
Each projection was arranged identically. At the outer end, the crossover room itself. A heavily-secured cubic room, utilitarian in design. Massive, unbreakable blast doors that sealed the chamber off, and only opened once the initial security check was clear. In each corner, a squat, square, sealed room, staffed by a pair of security guards standing by a big red button. Above each room, a pair of security cameras and an automated variable ordinance turret hung from the ceiling. If any one of the security officers pressed the button, the blast doors would lock in place and the terminal manager would be signaled, and if the threat was not contained, the manager could collapse the portion of the pocket dimension the chamber occupied, instantly wiping it and everything inside it out of existence in an absolute and final fashion. All this to secure the station from the worst possibilities that could emerge from the focus of the room, a fifteen-foot vertical metallic ring, with a mechanical walkway leading almost up to it.
In one of these rooms, a tone sounded. The guards in their stations suddenly straightened up, setting down books and magazines. There was a rumbling, grinding sound as the blast doors closed and sealed themselves, and a mechanic whirr as the turrets powered up. There was silence for a moment before the ring began to softly hum, the sound resonating through the room and growing louder and louder with the passing seconds. A point of yellow light flickered into existence in the center of the ring, faltering momentarily as the hum continued to grow louder and louder, before finally stabilizing, then growing exponentially, expanding into an opaque disk of yellow light that filled the ring entirely. As the light-disk stabilized, the hum faded back to a more tolerable volume. The mechanical walkway hissed and it extended into the disk of light, a series of soft clicks signalling the connection of the locking mechanisms and various cables with unseen counterparts. The guards sat on the edges of their seats, each pair glancing to each other and the button.
A knee-high gold boot stepped through the light, the flat sole hesitantly probing for the walkway before planting itself and pulling its owner through the light. A lithe, slender female figure stepped through. Her form-fitting costume, skintight black armor-like fabric covered all over with flexible segments of black impact-resistant material, did nothing to disguise her figure. She accessorized in gold, with a black silky cape lined in gold, tall boots on shapely feminine legs, long gloves with forearm-spikes, a thick belt around her slender waist, and a bat-shaped symbol on her chest, a symbol echoed in the clasp of her belt. The wings of the bat on her chest spread wide, opening over the upper slopes of pert, shapely c-cup breasts, hugged and shaped by the armor. A black, stylized, bat-like cowl covered the upper half of her face, disguising the shape of her facial structures, but leaving her pale skin and softly pink lips exposed, a gap in the back allowing her long crimson hair to flow back, down to the bottom of her shoulder blades.
Batgirl’s features relaxed from the wince they’d been holding as she stood on the hub-side walkway, and she suppressed a shiver. Crossovers were always… unsettling. she shook her head and strode forward, down the walkway to stand in front of the heavy blast doors. Even as she walked, her mind worked tirelessly, assessing her surroundings just as she’d been trained to do. Eight cameras, eight guards, four turrets, adamantium lacing all the walls and solid adamantium blast doors. There was a moment of silence as everyone but her nervously watched the portal.
A crackle broke the silence, a speaker coming on, and a mechanical, monotonous feminine voice soothed through it momentarily. [Please be patient to allow for data interface.] Batgirl waited as the seconds ticked by, one by one, as countless bits of data swapping back and forth across the portal. Finally there was a familiar series of clicks as the walkways and cables disengaged, pulling apart. Swiftly the hum faded to nothing, the yellow disk of light destabilizing and collapsing back into a point, then disappearing altogether. As the portal blinked out, there was another tone, and the massive blast doors rumbled as they pulled apart once again.[/Preview]
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