Batgirl’s Fantasy – from HER point of view

by

Barnabus

 

 

 

Written:            11/29/04

Revised:           xx/xx/xx

 

 

(Batgirl, M/F, fantasy, non-consensual sex.)

 

SUBJECT:

            Batgirl has a fantasy.  How can a complete stranger be able to fulfill it?

 

WARNING:

This is an adult story, containing sensitive material of a sexual nature.   If you find such material offensive or are underage, do not read further, but please bypass this story for one more suitable for you.  

 

            Batgirl is copyrighted, trademarked, and owned by DC Comics. I am borrowing her for my own pleasure.   The man, Michael, belongs to me. 

 

This is a work of fan-fiction.   This story is written for enjoyment and entertainment purposes only, and no commercial profit is expected to be made from it.  It may be copied for personal use or for posting on other sites, provided they are free sites . . . it may NOT be posted on any site that requires a "membership fee" of any kind.  This includes ‘adult verification sites’.  This story may NOT be posted to any site requiring an AVS where money is involved.  (If you do copy this story to another web page, please give me the courtesy of an e-mail, so I can see where my work is going.  Who knows?  Maybe you’ll introduce me to a new favorite website!) 

 

            Like most stories of this ilk, at the end of the story (unless there is a sequel) the characters are magically returned to their original condition, undamaged, unharmed, and unchanged in any way with no memory of the events that have taken place. .  .  It is as if the story had never happened, because, after all, it never really did.

 

            The story is set in modern times.  The idea came to mind and ‘percolated’ for a couple of weeks.  Then it ‘wrote itself’ in about seven hours, and after minimal reworking stands as originally written.  The ‘other half’ of the story (“Batgirl’s fantasy – from his point of view”) also solidified before writing began.   Both tell the same story but from different perspectives.  For maximum enjoyment, this story (‘her point of view’) should be read before reading ‘his point of view’.

 

            Special thanks are offered to Robert James Waller and his book, The Bridges of Madison County.  After reading this book, I modified the ‘flavor’ of Batgirl’s sex-scene, incorporating new elements into the interplay.

 

            Batgirl normally uses birth control and the man is aware of this fact (although how he knows is not mentioned in this story).  In 'real life’ every reasonable adult should know that he or she should behave responsibly when participating in sexual activities and he or she wishes to avoid unwanted conception and the spread of disease.

 

 

I appreciate your comments, both positive and negative.

Feedback is welcome and accepted at barnabus329@hotmail.com.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

 

Chapter 1 – Batgirl’s dreams

 

            His hands passed over her face, caressing her cheeks.   Holding her face gently between his hands, he kissed her lovingly on the lips.

 

            Batgirl tried to lift her hands to push him away, but she couldn’t move her arms.   She tried to tell him to stop, but the words wouldn’t come as he slid his hands over her chest to caress her breasts through her costume.   If she had been thinking clearly, she would have wondered why she could feel his every touch through the body armor she normally wore.  But suddenly, her armor was gone and his palms were sliding against her bare breasts, pressing them gently together.   Her breath was coming in rapid gasps.     

 

            Batgirl didn’t know if she wanted to grab his hand and do a wrist twist, possibly breaking his arm, or if she wanted to press his hands to her nipples, or if she wanted to reach out to grab his manhood and pull him to her.   But it didn’t matter what she wanted, her arms still would not answer her instructions.   She simply couldn’t move.  She felt light headed as her quick breathing didn’t seem to be providing her with enough air.

 

            Her costume, except for her cowl, was gone, and one of his hands slid down her stomach to palpitate her mound, then to spread her as he moved over her and her legs separated  . . . . .

 

            And with a gasp, Barbara Gordon awoke with a start sitting bolt upright in her bed, gasping for breaths, her heart pounding within her chest!  This had been the fourth dream she had had tonight about this man, and the intensity of this dream had totally turned her on!  She had been absolutely unable to control or filter her emotions during her dream.  

 

Much of her life involved her defeating men, so the fantasy of being completely helpless in the hands of a man had always appealed to her. 

 

The dream had been almost perfect!

 

 

            Sweat still poured from her body as she sat in her bed, afraid to turn on the light.  She found she could move her arms and lifted her legs over the edge of the bed as her breathing began to slow and her pulse rate began to return to normal.   She rose and moved to the bathroom, still feeling weak from the ‘paralysis’ she had felt in the dream.  Soaking a washcloth, she rinsed the sweat from her face as she leaned against the sink.   Draping the washcloth over the sink, she put the lid down on the toilet and her legs seemed to collapse beneath her as she sat on the lid, staring at the wall.

 

 

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Chapter 2 – Batgirl’s fantasy

 

            It had started as a fantasy!  And it was a very pleasant fantasy.  As Barbara Gordon, she had attended a mayoral party at city hall, the guest of her father, the police commissioner.  Typical of politics, this had been a ‘catch all’ affair, including guests from several foreign missions, local dignitaries, a few private citizens who had done something to merit recognition by the mayor, and even a group of out-of-town students who were in Gotham to see an art exhibit at the museum and had somehow finagled an invitation to the reception.

 

            At the party, Barbara had been thinking about a cataloging problem at the library when she saw him across the room.  He wasn’t handsome, not in a worldly fashion.  Nor was he homely.  He was a little too old to be a college student, he might even be older than Barbara herself; there was a worldly maturity about him that made him an extremely attractive man.  He was of medium height, brown hair with possibly a sprinkling of ‘pepper’ in it, and blue eyes that hit her where she lived!   Just the sight of him made her juices flow!  Barbara stared at him across the room, the library problem still in her mind but mentally on pause.  Suddenly he frowned and started looking around, his blue eyes scanning the faces in the room.  Just as his eyes were about to meet hers, Barbara changed her gaze to a painting near him so she could be looking at the painting, but still see him with her peripheral vision.  But even so, she was aware of his eyes alighted on her and moved past her.  Then they returned to hers and stayed. 

 

            Barbara continued studying the painting, but felt a flush spreading over her face, and immediately turned away.   When she looked back a moment later, he was moving to the punch table to refresh his glass.  Barbara watched him as he moved away from her and wondered if his ass was as compact and sexy as it looked under his jacket.  Mentally, Barbara’s thoughts returned to her library problem, but beneath the surface of her thoughts, she was wondering how he would look without clothes and in her bed.  She imagined that he wouldn’t be circumcised, but would be muscular and well fit . . . and appropriate partner for her . . . and that he wouldn’t be so over-endowed so as to make sex uncomfortable for her.

 

            Barbara looked around the room again and glanced toward the punch bowl.   He had moved to a beautiful woman dressed in a sleek evening gown and Barbara watched them talk and laugh together.  But he had positioned himself on the other side of the woman, so he could glance at Barbara over the woman’s shoulder.

 

            It’s just as well, Barbara thought, assuming that he and the woman were an item.  “I don’t really have time for boyfriends or lovers.  And even if I had some time I’d always be afraid the . . .”

 

            She felt the beeper vibrating that she wore hidden inside her waistband against her skin, and slipped it from its hiding place.  It was the bat-signal summoning her, so she swiftly moved to an exit door.

 

            And across the room, a pair of blue eyes followed her retreat.

 

            Barbara had never even spoken to him.  But later on that night, as she was climbing into bed, she wondered what it would be like to make love with him.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

            To her surprise, she saw him the next day at the library.  He came directly to the desk and asked her about the availability of out of town phone books. 

 

Without explanation, being this close to this man lifted Barbara’s sexual tension as she pointed out the shelves where the directories were kept.  She watched him select several directories, and take them to a table for perusal.

 

Barbara found herself mentally reviewing her sexual experiences, starting with the time in college when she had given her virginity to her boyfriend thinking they were madly in love!   He had been a proficient and skilled lover, but a total jerk in every way outside of the bedroom.  She had slept with two other boys before she graduated.  Her third and final college lover had not been a satisfactory experience at all and she had quickly terminated it. 

 

Shortly after she had graduated and become a librarian at the Gotham Public Library.  By then, her career as Batgirl had been initiated.  Although she had tried to date initially, she found her relationships too stressful, since she never knew when she would be called into service as Batgirl, and it seemed that the calls came at the most inconvenient times.  As a result, her love life over the past several years had been an occasional one-night-stand or being raped in the persona of her alter ego. 

 

Wistfully, she found herself longing for a normal schedule, with a normal life and a normal boyfriend and a terrific love life.

 

Barbara watched as he returned the phone books to the proper shelf and left.  Again, she wondered how he would be in bed.  Absently, she went to the shelves of out-of-state telephone books and straightened them out as she indulged herself in a fantasy where she was naked on her back in her own bedroom and his hands were caressing her, stimulating her, exciting her.   She closed her eyes and rolled her head as she envisioned his hands running down her stomach and touching her.

 

Taking a deep breath she pulled herself back to reality.   Her duties as Batgirl would preclude any dalliance such as that.   This was foolishness.  Taking a week, or even a day for simple indulgence in hot, sweaty, erotic sex just wouldn’t fit into her time table, much as she might enjoy it.

 

That night she slept normally, without dreaming, awaking more refreshed that she had in a long time.  But the next night, she dreamed about this stranger.  It seemed she dreamt about him several times that night, always awaking in a sweat.  In her first dream, he attacked her (as Batgirl) from behind with a chloroform rag.  She despised being chloroformed and this dream had her so upset that she had trouble getting back to sleep.  But eventually, fatigue overtook her and she drifted off once more.

 

            In a second dream, she dreamt he met her in an alley, they had talked, and he had led her up to his room where they made love.  That dream was pleasant, but she felt disappointed when she woke up, because neither Barbara nor Batgirl would allow herself to be picked up.  This was simply behavior that Batgirl would not do.   It seemed totally unrealistic and the waste of a perfectly good dream.

 

            The next dream, she met him and they battled, and he overcame her and raped her.  This made her uncomfortable because she had been raped by villains before and, by definition, forced, violent rape could never be a satisfactory experience. 

 

            Then she had had the final dream where she was totally helpless beneath his hands.  She was sorry that this dream had ended!  In many respects, it had been so perfect that she truly regretted its termination!

 

            Why was she dreaming about him so much?  Why was she so obsessed with this man that she had dreamed of him four times in one night?  And she vividly remembered each dream! To be sure, he had been attractive, and she would enjoy contemplating having sex with this man.  And this last dream seemed to have been Barbara’s ultimate fantasy: almost as if it was the fulfillment of every erotic daydream she had ever had!

 

            As Barbara returned to her bed she noticed the skyline becoming brighter in the East, indicating that morning was eminent.  Sliding under the sheets, her hand idly fondled herself through her pajamas and slowly.  It wasn’t a conscious choice, but rather a prelude to sleep.  She was still quite wet from her dream.  Pleasantly, she brought herself to a quiet, but satisfying climax before drifting off to sleep again.

 

Chapter 3 – Batgirl is captured.

 

            The following Friday evening, Barbara’s Bat-signal vibrated, calling her to duty.  Moving into the secret room of her apartment, she quickly donned her costume and took the elevator to the hidden garage where she mounted her famous bat-cycle and dashed off to her assignment. 

 

            But it turned out the call was a false alarm.  She returned home around 10:00 PM, wheeling her bat-cycle the last few yards in the obscure, shadow-filled alley.  Suddenly, her bat-sense warned her that something was amiss and she was not alone in the alley.  Instantly alert, she put the cycle on its kickstand and looked around.  Fortunately, she had not yet opened the secret door revealing the garage for her cycle.  

 

            Within moments, she had recognized the shape of a darkly clad man hidden deep in the shadows of the alley.  But before she could say or do anything, she heard a “Pffffft!” and felt a pinprick on her chin, probably the only area of exposed flesh not protected by the body armor she wore.  Her hand flashed to her chin finding a small dart that she pulled out and stared at.  Recognizing it immediately as a tranquillizer dart, she threw it away and moved toward the figure in the shadows.  She felt the weakness in her muscles as she moved in on him and once again heard the same “Pffffft!”  Again, she felt the pricking sensation, this time on her cheek.  Grudgingly, she had to admire his accuracy and skill at twice hitting her only vulnerable spots.  She actually reached him and her hands were grasping at the lapels of his jacket when her knees gave out and she sank to the ground, darkness closing in around her.

 

             

Chapter 4 – Batgirl lives her fantasy!

 

            Slowly, consciousness returned to her. She was lying in her back, apparently on a bed.  Slowly the ceiling came into focus.  It was a non-descript tile surface, no different than the false ceiling in thousands of rooms of hundreds of buildings.  There were occasional blemish or a water-stain in some of the tiles, but nothing of note.   

 

            Taking inventory, she felt that her cowl was still in place, as was the rest of her costume except her boots and her gloves.  Overhead, there was an IV bottle with a tube on her left.  Her eyes followed the plastic tube and she had to lift her head, which required enormous effort on her part, to observe that the tube was indeed attached to an intravenous needle in her left hand.

 

            Batgirl struggled to sit up and, with great effort, reached with her other hand to try to pull out the IV from her hand.   Unable to move very fast, she was only part way up when a hand settled on her shoulder and another hand gently but firmly grasped her wrist, preventing her from reaching the needle.  She was gently pressed back onto the bed and her hand was returned to her side.  Although her mind was clearing of the knockout injections of the tranquillizer darts, the rest of her body was slow to respond and had no strength. 

 

            Looking up, she recognized ‘Blue Eyes’, the man of her fantasies, the one she had seen across the room at the mayor’s party almost a week before.  Batgirl tried to verbally confront him, but her voice muscles weren’t working.  He continued to hold her down as he adjusted the flow rate on the IV.

 

            “Who are . . . y. . . .” were the only words she could get out.

 

            After the briefest of hesitations, he smiled at her and said, “I’m the man of your dreams.”

 

            “Wh . . . wh . . . why . . .” she struggled to verbalize.  And her vocal cords were shut off.

 

            Again, he smiled at her.  “Because I want you!”

 

            Batgirl didn’t know where she was or why she had been brought here, but she began to struggle to get away . . . or at least she tried!  She could barely move, and try as she might, she felt weaker than a newborn babe.  She struggled to grab his hand and try to twist his arm, but there just wasn’t enough strength in her grip to mount any kind of defense.  Even as she struggled, what little strength she had faded away and she realized that the drug she was receiving was a muscle relaxant that was permitting her mind to return to total consciousness but depriving her of the use of her arms and legs.  She became aware of pulling of the tape holding the IV needle in her left hand, so it seemed that she was regaining her sense of touch, even though she had no movement.

 

            Satisfied that she was completely paralyzed, the man moved to sit on the bed beside her.  From habit, Batgirl watched him carefully, she could still move her eyes and focus somewhat, and noted that he was wearing the typical thief uniform: black pants and a black pullover turtleneck, with a black jacket of some sort.  There was very little she could use to identify him.

 

            But his eyes!  His blue eyes were so deep she could drown in them!  And his eyes were so fixed on hers she could almost feel shy!  It almost seemed that he could look into her soul and know everything she was thinking!

 

            He leaned over her to kiss her cheek and she tried to pull her face away from him but her neck muscles didn’t respond. 

 

            “I won’t hurt you!” he whispered into her ear. 

 

            Batgirl had a few choice invectives to in reply, but the muscles of her throat were not under her control and all she could get out was a few grunts.

 

            “I’m sorry, but your voice muscles are also paralyzed.  You won’t be able to speak to me.  But I know what you’re thinking, so I won’t do anything you really don’t want me to.”  He responded.

 

            “Like hell you know what I’m thinking, you bastard!” Batgirl tried to respond, but only a few gasps, gurgles and grunts came out.

 

            He smiled at her attempts to scream at him, and then his hands passed over her face, caressing her cheeks.  Holding her face gently between his hands, he kissed her lovingly on the lips.

 

            As much as Batgirl, or any girl, for that matter, might enjoy being kissed, there is no woman in the world who wants to be kissed without her consent and participation. 

 

            Batgirl tried to lift her hands and push him away, but she couldn’t move her arms.  She tried to tell him to stop, but the words wouldn’t come out as he slid his hands over her chest to caress her breasts through her costume. 

 

            Of course, her costume comprised her body armor, she couldn’t actually feel his touch, but her eyes followed his hands as they lovingly stroked the mounds on her chest and she couldn’t help but become aroused.  His hand continued down her body and since she couldn’t raise her head, she lost sight of it.

 

            “Would you like me to put a pillow under your head so you can see more?” he asked.

 

            In her mind, Batgirl tried to scream ‘yes’ and ‘no’ at the same time.  She had been groped and raped in the past and, even though she had been brought to orgasm more than once, the idea of anyone raping her was repulsive to her.  

 

            Still, somehow, he had tapped into her favorite fantasy: being paralyzed by a handsome man and unable to move, then being lovingly caressed and taken by a gentle and considerate lover.

 

            Without further words, he produced a pillow and gently lifted her head to place the pillow.

 

            “Is that comfortable for you?” he asked?

 

            It wasn’t completely comfortable and caused a crick in Batgirl’s neck, but of course she still couldn’t speak.  He fluffed the pillow a bit and adjusted it.

 

            “There, I think that’s better!” he whispered to her.  And she realized that it was.  He had raised her head just enough so that she could see the length of her body, and she watched, fascinated, as his hands again passed over the mounds of her breasts and slid down to trace the outline of the area where her legs met.  Even though she could feel nothing through the body armor, the view of his hands passing over her body caused her breathing to quicken and she realized she was actually getting damp.

 

            “Very nice!” he commented. 

 

            His hands went to the buckle of her utility belt and he examined the buckle carefully for a moment before he found and pressed the button disarming the fail-safe booby trap that was designed specifically to prevent anyone else from removing her utility belt.  Studying the belt fastener, he located the hidden door in the buckle opening it and Batgirl watched nervously as he pressed two signal buttons: the first indicating that she was going off duty, and the second indicating that she would not be available for calls until further notice. 

 

            Batgirl realized that this last signal that was being transmitted from her belt would probably raise a few eyebrows on the other end.  Seldom was Batgirl unavailable.  But she realized that they would figure that even Batgirl is entitled to some undisturbed time on occasion.  And she imagined the speculation that might be going on about what she was doing and with whom now that she was ‘unavailable for calls’.

 

            Batgirl watched as he continued to study the signaling mechanisms of her utility belt and she realized that he was trying to determine if it’s homing device had been activated.  Once he had satisfied himself that no distress signal was being transmitted, he set the belt aside without further examination.

 

            He knew exactly what to look for on the belt and how to control its signaling mechanisms.  How was it possible that he . . . or anyone other than Alfred, who had installed the devices . . . would know about them and how to disarm them?  What other secrets did he know about her?

 

            She watched as he removed his gloves and realized that her utility belt was the only item of her costume with a surface that would hold fingerprints.  And now that the belt was gone, there was no need to wear gloves.

           

            His hands again returned to caress her face, and this simple action somehow made her feel valued and treasured, even though she was paralyzed and totally at his mercy.  Then his hands dropped to her shoulders to release her cape.  Rolling her partially away from him, he immediately found the top of the hidden zipper, which he slowly, sensuously, pulled down the length of her back.  Still unable to move, Batgirl recognized that he knew exactly where to find the zipper.  He must have carefully examined her costume while she was still unconscious. 

 

            Separating the opening, his bare hands ran over the flawless skin of her back before he tenderly slid the costume over her shoulders and down her arms.  Allowing her to return to her back, he easily coaxed the bodice over and off of her right hand.  The left hand required a little more work in that he had to momentarily disconnect the IV before removing the costume, and then reconnect the IV again afterwards. 

 

            This had been Batgirl’s fantasy, but she hadn’t imagined how erotic the experience would actually be as she lay helpless beneath the hands of a handsome, blue-eyed stranger as the top of her costume lay bunched over her waist.

 

            Fascinated, Batgirl watched as his hands returned toward the mounds on her chest that were still covered with the simple white cotton bra she was wearing.  Batgirl knew her nipples were clearly outlined through her bra and it excited her that he could see her so clearly.  His hands hovered over her breasts, not touching them, but absolutely able to do so at any time.  

 

Batgirl’s breath rose in expectation as she awaited his caress.  But it didn’t come!  She tried to arch her back upward, but the paralysis kept her motionless.  She wanted to take his hands and pull them to her, but again, her extremities wouldn’t move.  He had removed the top of her costume, the next thing he would do would be take possession of her breasts, that was what he always did in every fantasy.  But all she could feel was the heat radiating from his hands through the cotton fabric.   The eager suspense was causing her panties, still ensconced in the bottom of her costume to drip with expectation.  Just as she was about to swoon with desire, his hand lowered and her breast flattened slightly under the weight of his hand, sending both relief and repulsion throughout her.  This time, she could most definitely feel his touch, and even though paralyzed, she her breathing increased.  Her panties were soaked, a fact her waterproof costume hid for the moment, but he would soon discover how wet she was becoming.  Batgirl didn’t care.  His fingers found and rolled her nipples through her bra and she and she began whimpering at the stimulation.

 

            Just as she felt she could take no more stimuli, he allowed his hands to slide down her body, sending shivers throughout her entire being. 

 

            Once again, he quickly found the fastenings holding the rest of her skin-tight costume in place and released them.  He placed his hands against her skin and using the heels of his hands, slid the costume down her long shapely legs.  She received triple stimulation from this simple process: first from the touch of his hands on her skin, second by the feeling of having her costume removed by a stranger, and third from the realization that this was a living, breathing, thrilling replay of her favorite fantasy.  He seemed to know her every thought, her every desire, her every yearning.  She didn’t know how he knew exactly what buttons to push, but he was finding every single one of them!  If she could, she would have raised her feet to help him peel her costume off of her, but the paralysis left her totally at his mercy.

 

            Having disposed of the costume, he returned to her side and lovingly slid his hands over her breasts once more before he slid his hands beneath the small of her back to release her brassiere. 

 

            Peeling off the bra, he drew it down and off her right arm, then down her left arm.  Again, he had to disconnect the IV to completely remove the bra.  Sitting back and surveying the exquisite form before him, he let his fingers trace her breast and outline her very erect nipple. 

 

            “You’re beautiful!” he exclaimed.  Cupping her bare breast in his palm, he reiterated.  “You are truly beautiful!”

 

            Lost in the sensation of his touch and immersed in his adoration, Batgirl was barely aware that he had not reconnected the IV tubing.

 

            Moving downward on the bed, he captured the waist band on her matching cotton panties and drew her panties down and off of her, pausing to kiss her mons venires before completing the removal of her underwear.  He didn’t comment on the fact that her panties were dripping wet or that she was releasing a heady, musky odor into in the air.

 

            There was a pause before he returned to the side of the bed again.  Panting lustfully, Batgirl glanced at the man beside her and felt a pang of both fear and excitement pass through her as she saw him pull the shirt over his head, then drop his trousers to the floor.  She started at him and he sensed her disappointment.  The man in her fantasy had always been uncircumcised.  But the blunt instrument facing her and causing her such blissful torment sported a beautiful, almost purple, rounded head!  Batgirl experienced a moment of disorientation before she accepted what her eyes showed her.  Paralyzed emotionally as well as physically, she averted her eyes from him.

 

             She still feet she should be resisting these advances.  But Batgirl was so turned on by everything that was happening her that she doubted she would be able to resist him even if she weren’t paralyzed.  She felt lightheaded as her quick breathing didn’t seem to be providing her with enough air. 

 

            He lay beside her on the bed, their bodies touching.  They were both naked except for her cowl and she knew he could have removed her mask also, but he permitted her to maintain this small, but significant, secrecy.  His palms slid against the outsides of her bare breasts, pressing them gently together and Batgirl’s breaths were coming in rapid, ragged gasps.  Everything about this encounter was a dream come true for Batgirl, a fantasy fulfilled.  Her body was quivering at his touch.  He was doing everything right. 

 

            His mouth found her nipple and he began to gently nurse on her, gradually pulling more of her breast into his mouth until he was rolling her nipple against the hard ridges of the roof of his mouth.  Slowly, with great effort, she raised her hand to support her breast to keep it from slipping out of his mouth.  Control of her muscles was coming back to her.  Lifting her hand to the back of his head, she tried to arch her back pressing more of her breast into his mouth.  His erection pressed against her hip.  It was much too late for her to resist him. 

 

            His hand slid down her stomach and palpated her mound, gently massaging her with his fingertips.  Batgirl held her breath and hoped he wouldn’t immediately start prodding her clitoris the way many guys did.  Guys always seemed to think that ‘poking the old joy stick’ would cause a girl to melt in their arms, when, in reality, it only hurt and turned her off if she wasn’t ready.

 

            Mercifully, his fingers slid down the length of her slit and one finger came to rest half way between her vagina and her clit . . . the best place!  Here, his movements indirectly stimulated her clit, but also manipulated her vaginal entrance.  She felt her senses soaring!  No one had touched her like this since her second lover in college!  He had been the only man to really make her feel like a woman!

 

            And now this man, this stranger, had her feeling like the most female woman in the world!  With him, she knew the difference between male and female!  He had a penis whose purpose was to enter a woman and leave his seed.  She had a vagina to receive the penis and hold his seed.  Her arms were getting stronger now and she pulled at him to draw him on top of her.

 

            It was her fantasy, but he was in supreme control.  But as in every fantasy, his every move came in response to her desires, he knew whatever she wanted and did it!

 

            His fingers gently spread her as he moved over her, sliding one knee between her thighs.  Willingly, she separated her legs and bent her knees to open herself and to welcome him as he settled between them, the crown of his penis gently making its way between her swollen labia. 

 

            Ooohhhh! His well-lubricated finger found her clit.  Now she was ready for his touch, melting into a puddle beneath him!

 

            “ . . . Not . . . fair . . .!” she managed to say, having to make great effort to get her words out of a throat that was still largely paralyzed.

 

            Surprised that she could talk at all, he asked,  “What’s not fair?”

 

            “Both you and me . . .” she managed to croak out, “. . . against just me!  Not fair!”

 

            Slowly, gently, lovingly he penetrated her, each millimeter bringing a new thrill as his finger, still on her clit, lifted her emotions through the ceiling!  Batgirl let him take her wherever he wanted to go, because wherever that was, it was exactly where she wanted to be!  She wanted nothing more than to receive his sperm, so that regardless of what ever happened, she would still be carrying a portion of his manhood with her, within her afterwards!

 

By the time he had completely penetrated her, she had both arms clutching his shoulders and had managed to wrap her legs around him, pulling him deeper and deeper into her.  She was riding her sensations like a glider riding on air currents, seemingly riding on the edge of oblivion.  He was definitely all man and she was all woman!

 

She had no idea how long they made love, but she felt he was playing her body the way a master violist plays a Stradivarius, bring her to the brink of orgasm, only to slow down, then to lift her even higher, only to back off, denying her the fulfillment she desired.  Although it was her fantasy, she had totally lost herself in his depths!  Just when she approached despair that they would never reach climax, he lifted her once more toward her zenith and together they soared into orgasmic oblivion, both of them screaming.  She, who had not had a really satisfying, pleasurable orgasm since college, had a long sequence of them now with this ethereal, unreal blue-eyed man, this dream, this perfectly choreographed partner dancing a pas de deux with her!

 

The two of them were knit together, her soft flesh melding into his in a great spiral dance that seemed to go on endlessly, for hours.  She was helpless as they made love.  She was overwhelmed by his sheer emotional and physical dominance of her mind and body!

 

He was not surprised that she was multi-orgasmic:  many women are but never discover the fact because men, abused by the feminist movement and beaten down by the popular press, deceived by the macho propaganda they are raised with, for the most part are lousy lovers.

 

Batgirl made small, intelligible sounds as she arched herself toward him, but he completely understood the language of this woman beneath him, her belly against his, arching herself toward him, he deep inside of her.  She understood magic and passion, probably for the first time in her life!  She had experienced the wonder of feeling of a man who knows how to love a woman!  In her weakness, her legs, which had been wrapped around him, relaxed and fell to the mattress beside his hips.  Although unsteady and exhausted, she wanted even more of him.  He continued to lie on top of her.

 

Although she had regained much of the ability to move her limbs, Batgirl was so completely drained by the post-coital bliss she felt that she couldn’t move.  She simply lay beneath his panting form, her legs slipping from around him, but desperately trying to keep her arms grasping him to her.  She was exhausted and loving it!

 

“I . . . I . . . . I don’t . . .”  She was gradually regaining control of her speech, but the words came out in a hoarse whisper.  “I don’t . . . even . . . know your name . . .”

 

He lifted his head and she saw him smile at her as he withdrew from her.  “Don’t leave!” her voice rasped as strongly as she could.    She tried to hold him to her, but was too weak to prevent him moving to the side and rising from the bed.  Her eyes focused on him as he approached her left hand and she saw him inject a clear fluid into the IV needle still in her hand. 

 

Suddenly realizing what was happening she cried out, “Nooooooooo!” but her cry came out more like a whimper as once again, darkness closed in on her.

 

 

Chapter 5 – epilog – follow-up

 

            She became aware of a stiffness in her back, probably a result of the awkward position she was in.   The memory of the past few hours washed through her and although Batgirl tried not to move, she felt tension enter every muscle.  She opened her eyes a slit and saw the deserted alleyway behind her building.   Still not moving, she tried to take stock of the situation.   She still was wearing her cowl . . . in fact her batgirl costume seemed to be completely in place.  But there was something wrong with her right glove.

 

            Looking downward, she saw the handlebars of her Bat cycle, and listening carefully, she could not discern any noises that seemed out of place.  Raising her head, she quickly surveyed the area.  She was ‘home’, and had awoken resting on her bat cycle, almost as if she had fallen asleep.  Climbing from the Bat-Cycle on wobbly legs, she pulled out her night vision goggles and carefully surveyed the entire area, still finding noting out of the ordinary.  She felt tired, as if she had just awakened from a hard sleep and her body was resisting the process.

 

            Surely it wasn’t possible that she had fallen asleep over the handlebars of her bat cycle and dreamt the whole thing, was it?  Mentally she took inventory of herself.  Raising her gloved hand to her jaw, then to her cheek she felt the slight soreness of a residual pinprick.  Analyzing how she felt, she recognized that, regardless of her fatigue, her entire body had a general sense of well-being . . . the feeling that she had had after she had experienced good sex with her boyfriends in college.

 

            But there was also a slight soreness in her vaginal area and definite wetness.

 

            Once again surveying the alley and seeing nothing, she opened the secret entrance to the building and rolled the bat- cycle into its garage.  Her legs felt like buckling every time she took a step.  Grabbing the saddlebags from the cycle, she stepped into the secret elevator and rode to her apartment.  She did a quick survey of her apartment, and found nothing out of place, nothing amiss.  The security system indicated there had been no activity during her absence, but she noted several hours had passed since she had ridden into the alley. 

 

            Entering a secret closet, she stripped off her Batgirl costume and examined herself in the mirror.  The only two things that she saw which were visible were that her nipples were slightly more erect than usual and her panties were damp, both of which might be attributed to her normal activities as Batgirl.  Analyzing how she felt, she doubted that everything she had experienced this evening could be a dream, so she got out a rape kit and took a couple of swabs from herself.  One she carefully placed in a test-tube for further DNA analysis.    The second she used to prepare a slide, which she examined under her microscope.

 

            Sperm!

 

            It hadn’t been a dream!  And she had that bastard’s DNA! 

 

            She sat back from the microscope and thought.  She was up to date on her birth control, so no worry from that end.  She would have to be examined for disease, but that had been a regular part of her life ever since she had first been raped as Batgirl. 

 

            Rape was an intolerable crime.  And since she had been too drugged to give her consent, this definitely was rape!  She would find that sonofabitch somehow and nail his testicles to the wall!

 

            But even as she forming this resolution in her mind, she began reflecting on what had happened:

 

            He had done nothing that she hadn’t wanted.  She had had a longstanding fantasy about being helpless and having a handsome stranger make love to her.  And he had fulfilled her fantasy in every way!  He had given her the longest and best orgasm of her life.  It had been the perfect fulfillment of her dreams, and he hadn’t hurt her in any way!  If she had the opportunity to do it again, would she accept the invitation?  Barbara smiled as she remembered being kept on the very cusp of orgasm for what seemed like hours before the two of them finally climaxed together in a mind shattering experience!  She would really enjoy that again!

 

            Snapping herself out of her reverie, she chided herself.  Rape was rape.  And she had been raped!

 

            With resolve, she rose and went to the bathroom where she performed various feminine procedures to protect herself before she climbed into a hot shower.  As she lathered herself, she realized that although she was sweaty, she really didn’t feel violated or dirty from the experience.  Would she have given permission if she could have?   Probably not at that time, but given the opportunity now . . . she might!

 

            Barbara toweled herself off, drew on a soft terrycloth bathrobe and slippers and returned to her living room where she saw the saddlebags.  She picked them up and took them to the secret room where her equipment and costumes were hidden, throwing them on a table.  But before she left the room, a thought crossed her mind.

 

            She opened the saddlebags.  They contained their normal contents plus an 8-½ x11 manila envelope.  Pulling on rubber gloves so as not to disturb any fingerprints, she opened the envelope and spread it’s contents onto the table.  There were two black-and-white photographs and a fingerprint card.  Placing the fingerprints aside for the moment, she examined the first photo.  It was a picture of her (probably) lying on her side with her back to the camera.  The bat costume was recognizable and complete except that the cowl and her wig had been removed.  Only the back of her head was visible, so there was nothing in the photograph to reveal her identity.  But there was the implication that he had seen her without her mask, and thereby probably knew her secret identity.

 

            The second photograph was of an unconscious Batgirl, compete with cowl, lying on her back.  Her gloves had been removed and someone was rolling the finger of her hand onto what looked like a fingerprint card.  Barbara picked up the fingerprint card from the table.  The card contained only the fingerprints, no identifying information.  Barbara studied the finger prints for a moment, then pulled a card of her own fingerprints from a file drawer and compared both sets of fingerprints.  They matched!  He had her fingerprints as well.

 

            Barbara sat back and reflected. 

 

1.                  He had raped her, without her consent.

 

2.                  He had photographed her.  And she had no idea how many pictures he had taken or what the nature of the photos had been.  It was possible he had videotaped their entire encounter, even though she had not been aware of any video equipment in the room.

 

3.                  He had seen her face and probably knew her identity.  And he had her fingerprints as well. 

 

4.                  Other than the fact that he knew her identity, he had made no threat, done nothing to indicate that he might blackmail her, demanded nothing more from her.  In fact, she might interpret the pictures and fingerprints to be an indication that he simply had this information and knew that she would be able to trace him.  In effect, he was saying that the two of them were on equal footing.

 

What now?  Stalemate? 

 

Barbara cleaned the microscope slide and carefully filed away all of the data she possessed.  She would have to think this thing through.  In the meantime, she was tired with a well-satisfied fatigue, so she would wait until the morning before making any decisions.

 

            Discarding the robe, she drew selected a sexy negligee from her drawer . . . she wasn’t sure why she selected this particular one . . . and slipped into bed.  She wondered, as she drifted off if she would have pleasant dreams that night.

 

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