“Bruce, just… hold still. I need to focus.” Clark’s voice was strained, his breath warm against Bruce’s—no, her—inner thigh. His hands gripped her hips, firm yet gentle, as if he were afraid she might shatter beneath his touch.“Focus?” Bruce hissed, her voice higher, smoother than she was used to. It still felt alien to her, the way it curled in the air like smoke. “Clark, I don’t have time for you to focus. Circe could be halfway to Metropolis by now, and I’m stuck like this—”“I know,” Clark interrupted, his tone sharp before softening. “Trust me, I know. But this… this is the only way to reverse the spell. You heard her. It has to be me. And it has to be… intense.” His voice dropped on the last word, sending a shiver down Bruce’s spine—a spine that now curved in ways it never had before.Bruce let out a frustrated groan, her head falling back against the rough fabric of the Batcave cot. Her body felt like a stranger’s, every inch of it unfamiliar and sensitive. Her breasts, heavy and full, rose and fell with each breath. Her hips, wider now, pressed into the cot beneath her. And between her legs… well, that was the part she couldn’t bring herself to look at. Not yet.“Just get it over with,” she muttered, her voice laced with irritation—and maybe, just maybe, a hint of something else. Something she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.Clark hesitated, his blue eyes searching hers. “Are you sure? I mean, this is… new. For both of us.”Bruce clenched her jaw, her nails digging into the cot. “Do I look like I have a choice, Kent? Circe made sure of that. Now, unless you want me to stay like this forever, get to it.”Clark nodded, his expression serious, and lowered his head between her legs. ---It had started hours earlier, in the heart of Gotham’s underworld. Circe, the sorceress, had been wreaking havoc, turning men into beasts and women into men—her own twisted idea of justice. Bruce had tracked her down, confident as ever, but he hadn’t counted on her magic being so… personal.“Ah, the Batman,” Circe had purred, her voice dripping with venom and amusement. “Always so stoic, so masculine. Tell me, Dark Knight, what would happen if I took that away from you?”Before he could react, she’d waved her hand, and a wave of energy had slammed into him. It felt like fire and ice all at once, searing through his veins, twisting and reshaping him. When it was over, he’d collapsed to his knees, his body trembling with the aftershocks.“What… what did you do to me?” he’d growled, his voice softer, higher. He’d reached up to touch his face, his fingers brushing against unfamiliar features—full lips, a softer jawline, cheekbones that were now more prominent.Circe had laughed, a sound that echoed through the alley. “I’ve given you a taste of what it’s like to live in a woman’s body. Consider it… a lesson in humility. Oh, and don’t bother trying to fight me in this form. You’re far too delicate now.”Bruce had lunged at her, but his movements were sluggish, his body uncoordinated. Circe had easily sidestepped him, her laughter ringing in his ears as she disappeared into the shadows.He’d called Clark immediately.---Now, in the Batcave, Bruce’s heart was pounding as Clark’s lips brushed against the inside of her thigh. It was maddening, the way he was taking his time, the way his breath fanned over her skin, sending jolts of electricity through her body.“Clark…” she started, her voice trembling.“Shh,” he murmured, his lips trailing higher, closer to where she was most sensitive. “I’ve got you.”And then his mouth was on her, and Bruce’s world exploded.It was unlike anything she’d ever felt. Clark’s tongue was warm and wet, sliding between her folds with a precision that made her gasp. Her hands flew to his hair, tangling in the thick strands as she pulled him closer, desperate for more.“Oh god,” she moaned, her back arching off the cot. Every nerve in her body was on fire, every touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, and she couldn’t get enough.Clark’s hands moved to her hips, holding her steady as he licked and sucked, his tongue flicking over her clit in a way that made her see stars. His name fell from her lips in a broken whisper, over and over, as she writhed beneath him.“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “So responsive.”Bruce’s cheeks flushed, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through her. She wanted to protest, to tell him to shut up and just keep going, but all she could muster was a strangled moan.Clark chuckled, the sound vibrating against her sensitive flesh, and then he was pushing two fingers inside her, curling them just right. Bruce cried out, her hips bucking against his mouth as the pleasure built, tighter and tighter, until she was teetering on the edge.“Clark, I’m—oh god, I’m gonna—” she gasped, her voice breaking as the first wave of her orgasm crashed over her. Her body convulsed, her thighs clamping around Clark’s head as she rode out the waves of pleasure.When it was over, Bruce collapsed back onto the cot, her chest heaving, her body trembling. Clark pulled away, his lips glistening, his eyes dark with desire.“One down,” he said, his voice rough. “But I’m not done with you yet.”Bruce’s eyes widened, her heart pounding as he moved back between her legs. “Clark, wait—”

In the Batcave, Clark, with a strained voice, focused on Bruce's inner thigh, his hands gripping her hips, as Bruce, now in a female body due to Circe's spell, irritably urged him to hurry. Clark, with a serious expression, lowered his head between her legs to reverse the spell. Bruce's body, now unfamiliar and sensitive, reacted intensely to Clark's touch, leading to her first orgasm.

“Bruce, just… hold still. I need to focus.” Clark’s voice was strained, his breath warm against Bruce’s—no, *her*—inner thigh. His hands gripped her hips, firm yet gentle, as if he were afraid she might shatter beneath his touch.

“Focus?” Bruce hissed, her voice higher, smoother than she was used to. It still felt alien to her, the way it curled in the air like smoke. “Clark, I don’t have time for you to *focus*. Circe could be halfway to Metropolis by now, and I’m stuck like this—”

“I know,” Clark interrupted, his tone sharp before softening. “Trust me, I know. But this… this is the only way to reverse the spell. You heard her. It has to be *me*. And it has to be… *intense*.” His voice dropped on the last word, sending a shiver down Bruce’s spine—a spine that now curved in ways it never had before.

Bruce let out a frustrated groan, her head falling back against the rough fabric of the Batcave cot. Her body felt like a stranger’s, every inch of it unfamiliar and *sensitive*. Her breasts, heavy and full, rose and fell with each breath. Her hips, wider now, pressed into the cot beneath her. And between her legs… well, that was the part she couldn’t bring herself to look at. Not yet.

“Just get it over with,” she muttered, her voice laced with irritation—and maybe, just maybe, a hint of something else. Something she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

Clark hesitated, his blue eyes searching hers. “Are you sure? I mean, this is… new. For both of us.”

Bruce clenched her jaw, her nails digging into the cot. “Do I look like I have a choice, Kent? Circe made sure of that. Now, unless you want me to stay like this forever, *get to it*.”

Clark nodded, his expression serious, and lowered his head between her legs. 

---

It had started hours earlier, in the heart of Gotham’s underworld. Circe, the sorceress, had been wreaking havoc, turning men into beasts and women into men—her own twisted idea of justice. Bruce had tracked her down, confident as ever, but he hadn’t counted on her magic being so… personal.

“Ah, the Batman,” Circe had purred, her voice dripping with venom and amusement. “Always so stoic, so *masculine*. Tell me, Dark Knight, what would happen if I took that away from you?”

Before he could react, she’d waved her hand, and a wave of energy had slammed into him. It felt like fire and ice all at once, searing through his veins, twisting and reshaping him. When it was over, he’d collapsed to his knees, his body trembling with the aftershocks.

“What… what did you do to me?” he’d growled, his voice softer, higher. He’d reached up to touch his face, his fingers brushing against unfamiliar features—full lips, a softer jawline, cheekbones that were now more prominent.

Circe had laughed, a sound that echoed through the alley. “I’ve given you a taste of what it’s like to live in a woman’s body. Consider it… a lesson in humility. Oh, and don’t bother trying to fight me in this form. You’re far too *delicate* now.”

Bruce had lunged at her, but his movements were sluggish, his body uncoordinated. Circe had easily sidestepped him, her laughter ringing in his ears as she disappeared into the shadows.

He’d called Clark immediately.

---

Now, in the Batcave, Bruce’s heart was pounding as Clark’s lips brushed against the inside of her thigh. It was maddening, the way he was taking his time, the way his breath fanned over her skin, sending jolts of electricity through her body.

“Clark…” she started, her voice trembling.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips trailing higher, closer to where she was most sensitive. “I’ve got you.”

And then his mouth was on her, and Bruce’s world exploded.

It was unlike anything she’d ever felt. Clark’s tongue was warm and wet, sliding between her folds with a precision that made her gasp. Her hands flew to his hair, tangling in the thick strands as she pulled him closer, desperate for more.

“Oh god,” she moaned, her back arching off the cot. Every nerve in her body was on fire, every touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, and she couldn’t get enough.

Clark’s hands moved to her hips, holding her steady as he licked and sucked, his tongue flicking over her clit in a way that made her see stars. His name fell from her lips in a broken whisper, over and over, as she writhed beneath him.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “So *responsive*.”

Bruce’s cheeks flushed, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through her. She wanted to protest, to tell him to shut up and just keep going, but all she could muster was a strangled moan.

Clark chuckled, the sound vibrating against her sensitive flesh, and then he was pushing two fingers inside her, curling them just right. Bruce cried out, her hips bucking against his mouth as the pleasure built, tighter and tighter, until she was teetering on the edge.

“Clark, I’m—oh god, I’m gonna—” she gasped, her voice breaking as the first wave of her orgasm crashed over her. Her body convulsed, her thighs clamping around Clark’s head as she rode out the waves of pleasure.

When it was over, Bruce collapsed back onto the cot, her chest heaving, her body trembling. Clark pulled away, his lips glistening, his eyes dark with desire.

“One down,” he said, his voice rough. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, her heart pounding as he moved back between her legs. 

“Clark, wait—”

In the grimy underbelly of Gotham, Batman is transformed into a woman by the sorceress Circe, leaving him in a state of vulnerability and desperation.

To reverse the spell, he must engage in intense sexual acts with Clark Kent, specifically focusing on oral sex to return to his original form.

This tale delves into themes of body transformation, forced intimacy, and the exploration of sexual boundaries in a dynamic of power and trust.

Batman's Forbidden Transformation

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