Chapter Text
Lust is always unbearable right before your period. You’d been treating Dick as fuel for your fantasies, imagining having sex with him for a whole week straight. You soaked through so many pairs of panties, yet nothing could take the edge off. One afternoon, you fell asleep in the middle of a fantasy and woke up from a wet dream, realizing the heat in your body was truly impossible to soothe. So, you mustered the courage to go to the shower to masturbate. You rubbed your clitoris for a long time, but it only felt swollen; you were barely even getting wet. In a fit of frustration, you started searching for female sex toys and impulsively drove downtown to the largest adult store in Gotham, buying a four-piece set just before they closed.
Yes, steered by the shop assistant’s enthusiastic recommendation, you bought a beginner-friendly clitoral suction toy, a remote-controlled love egg, a slender vibrating dildo, and water-based lube. It was the first time you learned that lube came in varieties: water-based, oil-based, stimulating, and anal (you were shocked that the anus actually required a different kind; the assistant just smiled at you: "We are professionals"). At your insistence, the assistant rummaged through the back for the thinnest dildo (barely the width of a finger joint), claiming they were the only store that carried such a slender vibe, and this was the very last one (“Is this... used? Did someone return it?" you asked suspiciously. The assistant hurriedly clarified: "We don't accept returns or exchanges"). She recommended you switch to a thicker one, but you insisted that since it was your first time with anything insertable, it had to be thin. "Alright," the assistant conceded, "but after a few uses, you’ll find that a slightly thicker one feels better—though not too thick." Then she showed you the thickest dildo in the store; the diameter was wider than your finger. Your eyes nearly popped out. "Do people really buy this?" The assistant was unfazed: "Of course. It’s not a best-seller, but plenty of people buy it—men and women alike.”
"Do Western women have bigger vagina?" you couldn't help but mutter, instantly regretting it. Was that racist? Luckily, the assistant was Asian like you and replied matter-of-factly: "Well, you asked the right person. I specifically looked into this. Race doesn't determine a woman’s vaginal capacity; it might slightly affect men’s penile length and girth, but individual variance far outweighs racial averages." Then the assistant took out her phone and voice-queried ChatGPT: "Do Western women have bigger vagina?" ChatGPT’s voice chimed in—it was actually a sexy male voice: "This is a very typical 'physiological myth.' Here’s the conclusion—currently, there is no scientific research or medical evidence indicating that ethnicity has a significant, decisive impact on vaginal capacity, depth, or tightness.”
Back at Wayne Manor, you first charged the toys, then went online to learn how to masturbate—mainly by asking ChatGPT, because you didn't want to ask Brother Eye (yeah, right; ask Brother Eye and Bruce would know immediately). You took a shower, washed the toys and your hands, layered two bath towels on the bed, spread your legs, propped up a mirror facing between your legs, struggled to expose your clitoris, applied the lube, then turned on the lowest setting and gently touched it with the suction toy.
You didn't feel much.
You held the suction toy against your clitoris for a while. It felt a bit sore, but it was still nowhere near the feeling of an approaching orgasm; it didn't even compare to fantasizing about Dick in your mind. A bit annoyed, you turned it up to the medium setting, but then it felt too stimulating—your clitoris actually hurt a little—so you switched to the love egg.
The love egg didn't make you orgasm either.
Furious, thinking you just hadn't mastered the technique, you tried a few more times before giving up. You fell asleep in a state of unfulfilled desire, had a wet dream, and woke up feeling even more frustrated. So, you called Barbara.
Barbara laughed while teaching you her technique, comforting you by admitting that her first time took an hour and a half to reach orgasm. You felt frustrated, but Barbara kept encouraging you, adding that even after doing it for so many years, she still usually takes half an hour. You were shocked: "That long? Won't the lube dry out?"
"I can finish in five minutes if I want to, but that’s like eating fast food—kinda boring," Barbara said. "The lube is just to keep it from drying out at the start; once you’re aroused later on, you’ll naturally get very wet."
You were confused: "Why will touching the clitoris make me wet? Doesn’t water only come from the vagina?"
Barbara was shocked: "You only touch the clit?"
You were equally shocked: “Is there any problem?”
"Of course not!" Barbara laughed herself silly. "Didn't I tell you the technique? If you only touch the clit for too long, it hurts. Once your own water comes out, the whole area from the clitoris to the vagina will be wet, and then you can do whatever you want."
Your brain was still in chaos, processing "cannot only touch the clit," so Barbara, feeling a bit worried, explained her technique again in detail. She also shared some extra secret tips, including pausing for 5-15 seconds while stimulating the clit, and using Google to search for threads like "7 Tips for Female Masturbation! How to Make Yourself Happy" (turns out AI still can't fully replace search engines; ChatGPT didn't teach you these tricks at all). She told you to try the techniques one by one to see which suited you best. She also said that suction toys have different nozzle sizes (this was something you asked her; you said your clit was too small and the nozzle was too big, so it didn't feel like a good fit), and if it doesn't fit, it really doesn't work well, so she generally just uses her hand. Finally, she encouraged you to try more and open up your imagination!
You were very touched, while Barbara just kept laughing, saying someone had taught her back when she first started, too, and wished you’d find a woman's pleasure soon.
You hung up the phone, praying for your period to come soon so you wouldn't be tortured anymore. That night, you started trying again. This time, you watched some porn, read some erotic manga, and read some smutty fiction. After ensuring your panties were wet, you opened your legs, mimicked Barbara’s technique for a while (you even wrote down her method, placed your phone next to you, and followed the notes on the phone step-by-step), used the dildo to tease your vaginal entrance for a bit, and then continued the struggle with your clit.
You switched between using the suction toy and the love egg, and even played around with the dildo, but still didn't orgasm. You felt like you were going to go crazy. You kind of understood why, in the Victorian era, they believed women's hysteria was due to unsatisfied sexual desire. If this went on, you were going to become hysterical too.
But you are not a quitter. You decided to try another round: first using your hand, then the love egg, then the suction toy, and finally the vibrating dildo. Still no orgasm. You angrily put the toys aside—you didn't even have the heart to smash them on the floor—and then you heard a voice full of amusement ring out:
"Need some help?"
Your mind buzzed, and half your brain went numb. It felt like an orgasm—no, you've never had one, so you wouldn't know, but your vagina clenched hard. When you finally reacted, you yanked the quilt over in panic, covering your naked lower half.
"Why didn't you knock!"
"I did." Dick crossed his arms, leaning casually against the closed door. "You were too focused. You didn't hear."