BG Fantasy - his point of view

1. Never injure another person, except in dire self-defense.

2. Never make a person do something they would not normally do.

3. If you use mind control on someone, try to leave the other person

better off than he was before he met you.

4. Lesser is better. (Another way of stating this rule is "Do not try to gain things by mind control that you can gain by normal interaction".)

Michael and his wife worked together, honing their mental skills. One would practice a technique with the other carefully monitored what was happening and helping fine-tune the process. Michael learned to ‘eavesdrop’ on others and when both he and his wife agreed, he learned to ‘tweak’ the thought processes of others without injuring them. They always followed the rule ‘lesser is better’.

After a few years of marriage, Michael’s wife died of a brain tumor. He was devastated! A couple of years after his wife’s death, Michael decided to once again seek female companionship and signed up for some college courses, hoping to meet some eligible females. And he had met and enjoyed some fresh young girls. But he also enjoyed the college atmosphere, so he stayed on.

During his second year in college, Michael took an art appreciation course with a rather flaky professor. During the course, the professor had arranged a field trip to the Gotham City Art Gallery and arranged an invitation for his group to attend a mayoral reception .

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

Chapter 1 – At the Mayor’s Party

Michael relaxed and smiled as he surveyed the crowd. He had never been to a mayoral reception before, let alone in magnificent Gotham City.

He had taken an Art class as part of his college curriculum and the professor had arranged this field trip to Gotham City to view a special exhibit at the Gotham City Museum. Since the professor was also a regular political party worker, he had been able to arrange an invitation for his class to attend this reception at the mayor’s residence and Michael had actually met His Honor, the mayor (even though it was only as he passed through a reception line).

Gotham’s museum had been excellent, and Michael had spent an extra day wandering through it enjoying the different styles of artwork that were on display. Actually, Michael enjoyed ‘eavesdropping’ on the patrons as much as he had enjoyed the artwork itself. He had spent 30 minutes before one abstract painting listening in on the thoughts of the passers-by. It was a harmless pastime, but eventually he moved on.

When he prepared for the Mayor’s party, he idly wondered if Batman or Batgirl would attend the reception. Not likely, he concluded. This reception was an openly political gesture where the Mayor could pay off some of his political debts, so it was unlikely that any of the super heroes would even be invited, much less come.

Still, being basically a boy from a small town, Michael enjoyed the pomp of the Mayor’s mansion. He tried to relax and enjoy the party. When he met the Mayor in the reception line, Michael was surprised to find that His Honor really enjoyed meeting ‘his constituents’ and chatting with people. Apparently, this was an opportunity where the mayor could be away from many the pressures of his office and relax in what was, hopefully, a purely social setting.

Chapter 2 – Michael is the center of her attention

Michael completed his mandatory conversation with his professor, and moved to the side of the room to surveyed the other guests. Many of them were Gotham City’s ‘beautiful people’. Several guests had been invited to be recognized by the mayor for having done something-or-other that they had done for the city. There were a few diplomats, the police commissioner and some other city officials. Briefly, Michael considered approaching the police commissioner and asking for an introduction to Batman and Robin, but then he remembered they were out of town on some sort of mission.

Suddenly, Michael felt a tension in the small of his back and the short hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Immediately he recognized it for what it was: a sort of telepathic feedback he received when his subconscious recognized that someone was scrutinizing him, watching him, thinking about him. It was an unconscious defensive mechanism built into him that he had learned to acknowledge. Often, this feedback was nothing of significance, but sometimes it gave him the ability to avoid potential problems.

Casually, Michael sipped his wine spritzer, the only one he had allowed himself tonight, and surveyed the crowd, looking for the person who was studying him. Suddenly, his eyes were drawn back to a young woman halfway across the room. She was a brunette wearing an off the shoulder, black satin, semiformal gown that emphasized her breasts (although they weren’t too big) and flared from her waist exposing some crinoline slips at the hem which was just above her knees. She looked like she was around 27 years old, attractive, but she didn’t strike him as overly beautiful like a model might.

Just as his eyes were about to meet hers, her gaze moved and focused on the painting on the wall behind Michael. Without thinking, Michael slipped into her mind to see what her interest in him might have been. She knew that she had been ‘caught’ and Michael felt her sense of embarrassment. She blushed! And almost immediately turned away.

He resisted the temptation to smile as he recognized that her interest in him had been simply sexual attraction. She had seen him, she had liked him, and she was scopeing him out from across the room, plain and simple.

Although Michael didn’t have a girlfriend right now, he wasn’t actively looking either. Still, she was attractive enough and seemed to have a good enough body to rouse his curiosity beyond a passing glance. He tuned in deeper and at first was confused as her thoughts were wandering in and out of a . . . a problem with cataloging . . .cataloging for a library! She was a librarian! A librarian at the main Gotham Public Library!

Passively maintaining his mental contact with her, he turned and went to the punch table to pick up an alcohol-free tonic water. Mentally, his eyebrows rose as she callously appraised his backside as he moved away from her.

As her fantasies about him become more intimate, Michael looked deeper into her sexual attraction toward him. She was single, no male (or female) figure actively involved in her emotions at the present time. In fact, as he looked deeper, he found a deeply repressed, but very present sex drive in her psyche.

Why would a woman with such a strong sex drive repress it so completely, so deeply?

A fashionably dressed lady whom he had met earlier waved to him, so he stepped up to her for a light conversation, still listening in on the mind of the brunette. He felt the resignation in her mind as she assumed he and the woman were a couple. Michael stationed himself so he could maintain his current conversation while keeping an eye on the sexy, but repressed brunette. Almost as if she were speaking out loud, he heard her thoughts: “I don’t really have time for boyfriends or lovers. And even if I had some time I’d always be afraid the . . .”

Michael sensed a strange vibration from her, then observed her pull out a beeper that had been hidden somewhere on her person. As she glanced at the message, her entire persona changed, and without a backward look, she moved to a door and exited.

As Michael allowed the mental contact to break, he turned his full attention to the fashionably dressed lady. Although physically beautiful, she turned out to be a shallow, frightful bore, and Michael ended the conversation as soon as he could do so politely.

Taking a seat at the side of the room, his thoughts were drawn back to the sexy brunette he had seen across the room. From the brief glimpse into her mind, he knew that she had a potentially wild libido. But she had so repressed her sexuality that it would take a major effort to free that libido. It would be like seducing a virgin. The payoff would be enjoyable, but it would require so much work getting her into bed that it really wouldn’t be worth the effort.

Still . . . there was something else there . . . something he felt he had missed. He reviewed her final thoughts: ‘even if she had some time, She’d always be afraid the . . .’. The what? If he had been concentrating, he knew he would have been able to find it, but as it was . . . it just wasn’t there!

Suddenly, he got a glimpse! When she had looked at the beeper, there was something about a bat . . . no, it wasn’t a bat . . . was it the bat-symbol?

Michael concentrated on his memory. Did Batman have a Brunette assistant? He couldn’t remember any hint of anything like that. Of course there was Batgirl, but she was a redhead, so Michael dismissed this train of thought. Still, he was intrigued enough to want to learn more. What did he know about her? She was a librarian at the Gotham Public Library.

If for no other reason than to satisfy his curiosity, Michael decided that tomorrow he would have to pay a visit to the library. That settled, he joined a group of his fellow students and joined in their conversation as they were speaking in awed tones about meeting the Mayor of Gotham City.

Chapter 3 – Michael visits the library.

Mid morning, the next day found Michael climbing up the steps to the public library. A second flight was required to get to the main reading room. As he approached the main reading room, Michael listened in to the minds in the area. It wasn’t hard finding her mind. And sure enough, there she was behind the librarian’s desk at one end of the room.

Although she said nothing, she was surprised as she immediately recognized him. Michael walked directly to her desk and asked about the availability of out-of-town telephone directories (the first thing he could think of). Her name tag read Barbara Gordon, and without losing a beat, she led him to the shelves where the directories were kept. She watched him as he thanked her, selected three directories, and moved to a table to begin his reading.

As she returned to the librarian’s desk, Michael took the time to carefully, but subtlety look through Barbara Gordon’s memories and thoughts.

She was Batgirl! No doubt about it. She had a hidden closet in her apartment with everything she needed for her duties as crime fighter. There was a secret, hidden elevator to take her to the ground level garage where she kept her bat cycle. Michael jotted down her address from her memory. Then looked a little further into her thoughts. He still wanted to know why she was so hung-up on sex.

He reviewed her sexual memories, aware that she was also remembering her sexual experiences at the same time. Three lovers in college: the second one seemed to be a winner. After college, she came to Gotham, became Batgirl, and her duties as Batgirl had kept her from any kind of meaningful relationship since then.

As Batgirl, she had been raped several times. Obviously, she had learned to deal with being raped, but having rape as her normal sexual experience had to take a heavy toll on any girl! When she had turned 25 (a rough age for any girl who is unattached), she had orchestrated a number of one-night-stands in an effort to try to develop a normal sex life, but these encounters had only left her feeling more lonely and less satisfied than ever!

Poor kid! Michael thought. No wonder she has repressed her sex drive!

Michael returned the directories to the proper shelves, nodded his thanks to Barbara Gordon, and then left the reading room. Once outside, he sat on a bench, pretending to make notes in his date book as he ‘eavesdropped’ on Barbara’s thoughts. After last night, he wasn’t surprised that she was fanaticizing about having sex with him, before she consciously put such thoughts out of her mind, reminding herself that her duties as Batgirl simply would not allow any such relationship, even though she knew she craved it.

Michael pondered what he knew about Barbara Gordon, and wondered what, if anything, he could do for her. Of course, he would love to bed Batgirl (what man wouldn’t?) and with his mental abilities, it would be easily accomplished. But he had a code of ethics to contend with. He could not cause injury, physical, mental or emotional, to her. And she would have to be left better off afterwards than she had been before.

Of course, Michael could simply introduce himself to Barbara and ask her out, and generally help her work her way through her problems. But that would take weeks, or even months. And in the end, he would have probably bedded her, had the satisfaction of having helped her out, but other than that there wouldn’t be that much reward in it for him. And it would take a lot of time!

He knew he should simply pocket his date book and walk away, leaving Batgirl to her own devices and to solve her own problems.

But here was an attractive young lady who was desperately lonely and wishing helplessly for a satisfactory relationship with a man! Michael didn’t want to walk away from all the pain he felt in her. But what could he do?

Chapter 4 – Moral Dilemmas

Michael pocked his date book and left the library. There was a coffee shop across the street, so he went in and ordered a cup of java while he continued his thoughts about Barbara/Batgirl. Through the cacophony of silent thoughts, he sought out Barbara in the Library across the street and very gently listened into her thoughts as she continued her mundane tasks.

Getting her into bed, or more correctly, getting himself into her bed, normally would be a simple exercise for him. But he would be returning to college with his group tomorrow (unless he chose to extend his visit to Gotham). And a simple one-night-stand was not what Barbara needed. If anything, it would simply push her deeper into the quagmire of emptiness and depression she was already experiencing.

Michael remembered reading a thesis about Batman, the Dark Knight, and how everything about him seemed to be deeply routed in depression and darkness. Barbara at 26 years old (he now knew her age and even her birthday) was definitely headed in that direction and her desperate collection of one-night-stands when she turned 25 showed her that, on her own, she was absolutely unable to change her direction from darkness and depression to a more ‘normal’ life. And Michael wasn’t motivated enough to stay in Gotham to begin a long-term ‘therapy’ program. Was there any way he could help her move more toward normality in a short period of time?

All normal forms of interaction wouldn’t work without use of harmful controlling of her mind.

He couldn’t just walk up to Barbara and say, “I’m your fantasy. Let’s fuck!” And a fantasy is always such a private thing that any way he tried to verbally state it, Barbara would probably react negatively.

Then again, Michael had his own fantasies also. And his fantasies involved Batgirl, not Barbara Gordon!

Obviously, Michael couldn’t just present himself to Batgirl and hope she would fall into bed with him. He had no legitimate way to talk to Batgirl or even contact her. And even if he should encounter her somehow, as far as she was concerned, Batgirl had never seen Michael before.

Still, Barbara had a fantasy, and Michael knew it was a strong one. Fantasies are wonderful! They give you imaginary power and experiences you might . . . might never experience otherwise . . .

Then again, Michael would be fulfilling a fantasy of his own, namely, bedding Batgirl. But the stress and energy required to do so left him wondering if it was really worth the effort. He resolved not to violate his ethics: he couldn’t force her to do anything she wouldn’t normally do, he couldn’t injure her, and whatever he did, she would have to be better off when afterwards than she was before. Still, if he wanted her in his bed, how would he do it?

Unless it was in some sort of world that wasn’t real . . . because fantasies always occur in a world that isn’t real.

A fantasy. A world that isn’t real. A place where things that are not legitimate can happen, where the unreal can become real. A dream world.

Slowly, a thought emerged and gradually grew to become a full blow idea, one that might actually become a real plan!

. . . Batgirl’s fantasy . . . . . . . . !

Chapter 5 – Michael Makes Preparations.

Michael thought through her fantasies, and none of them offered him the access that he needed. He ‘turned up the connection’ with her mind and gently searched looking for an approach that might work. He came up with several possibilities . . . oh, how he wished he could make notes, but committing to paper anything he learned telepathically was a no-no for him. Finally, he concluded that there might be possibilities and that was enough for him to commit himself to the project for a few days . . . a week at the most.

Paying the coffee house check, Michael traveled to the neighborhood where Batgirl lived. Her Apartment was in a classy area, but in typical Gotham fashion, the next block was a much lower class, and one that Barbara was not likely to frequent.

Seeing an ‘Apartment For Rent’ sign in a window, he rang the buzzer for the superintendant. of the building. A cash payment up front of two months rent plus an addition months rent for security deposit rented him the apartment without the usual background check, and with the help of a little mental manipulation, the agreement was sealed without any paperwork. Michael also blurred the man’s memory so he wouldn’t remember exactly what Michael looked like.

Finally, he returned to the hotel where the College group was staying and told the Professor that he planned to stay on in Gotham for a few days ‘for independent research’ and wouldn’t be returning with the group. Next, he went to the front desk and extended his reservation for a week. (Money was not a problem for Michael since he had just completed his bi-annual trip to Las Vegas where he had carefully accumulated enough cash to last him over six months. But that’s another story.)

Leaving most of his luggage in the large hotel, he took only what he would need to the newly rented apartment and waited for Barbara to return home from work.

Chapter 6 – Barbara’s Dreams and capture.

Settling into his newly rented room, Michael took a short time to mentally scan the area to see if anyone had noticed him or if he was being observed for any reason. Only his new landlord was sitting in his apartment wondering who he was and why he had rented this apartment, since he was not the usual type to rent from him. Michael took a few minutes to gently remove his curiosity from the landlord, and then to confirm that his memory was blurred sot that he would not be able to identify Michael from photographs or in a lineup if that were ever to become necessary.

Once this chore was completed, Michael carefully selected Barbara’s thoughts from the cacophony of mental activity of Gotham City. With so many people in such a confined area, it took him a little while to concentrate on Barbara and to exclude everyone else. But Barbara, just like everyone else, had a unique brain wave, just like every radio frequency is unique. It was not difficult to find her thoughts and tune out everyone else.

It had been a quiet evening for Barbara, and she was preparing for bed. After she had turned out the lights, she briefly indulged in a fantasy about ‘the man at the party’ before dropping off to sleep. As she drifted into a deeper sleep, Michael let her dreams come. They were normal dreams. Short, often disjointed, frequently meaningless and immediately forgotten.

At this point, it was easy to direct her dreams and thus solicit information without risk of her realizing what was happening. Sometimes it took several dreams over a period of time to find the information he needed, but long before the sun began to glow in the east, he had learned the details of Batgirl’s costume, the fact that it was virtually a suit of armor, made of Kevlar, her only exposed skin being the area around her mouth that wasn’t covered by her Cowl. He had also learned where the zippers and other fasteners were and their idiosyncrasies. It was not surprising that her utility belt was booby trapped and had to be opened a certain way, and that there was a homing device in her belt that required deactivation.

Michael was so fascinated by the technical details surrounding Batgirl’s life that he almost forgot to determine that her birth control was up-to-date (like a good superheroine) and to do a quick check of her sexual history, preferences, and orientations. He noted that her sex-life (other than the various rapes and attacks on her person) was almost non-existent and that she craved to have a ‘normal’ sex life with a good man, but that this was not possible because of the necessity that she was constantly on call as Batgirl.

Once Michael felt he had all the information he needed, he settled her into a deep, refreshing sleep that would allow her to awake rested and comfortable, totally unaware that a stranger had been intruding on her dreams for most of the night.

Michael was extremely tired, being up so late and having spent such an extended period in concentrated work. But he took the time to plot out several scenarios that he might use to capture Batgirl. He knew he would require specific equipment for most of them, so after making mental notes of his requirements, he, too, slept soundly.

He woke around 10:00 the next morning, found the telephone book, and planned his day. Most of the day he spent wandered the streets, apparently aimlessly, ‘window shopping’, locating various drug stores and other specialty stores in different neighborhoods throughout the city. Once he found a store, without entering it, he would mentally seek out a principal employee and seek out the information he needed: did the store have the merchandise he wanted? What sort of security was used by the store, specifically was the store covered by closed circuit video surveillance. How many employees were likely to be in the store? At drug stores, he sought out the mind of the pharmacists and ran a quick check on the equipment and medications they had in stock.

By 5:00, he had covered all of the items he might need to purchase and traded money in several banks for currencies in a lower denomination. In each case, he had the teller put the money in an envelope so that Michael’s fingerprints would not appear on any of the bills.

Back in his newly rented apartment, he napped until it approached Barbara’s bedtime. Mentally, he observed her as she prepared for bed, and waited for her to fall into sleep. This time, Michael gave her more specific dreams that she would remember.

In her first dream, he snuck up behind her and chloroformed her, intending to take her to his ‘lair’ and abuse her. But Barbara had such a revulsion at the thought of being choloroformed that she forced herself out of the dream and woke up, sweating and upset. Obviously, that was not a pleasant fantasy for her. She was so upset by the dream that eventually Michael had to trigger her sleep centers so that she could again slip into sleep.

Once she was deeply asleep he led her to dream that Batgirl met him in an alley. He could sense her tension as they spoke in the dream and eventually he led her up to his room where they made love. As the dream ended, Michael let Barbara awaken and felt her disappointment. She had found it to be a pleasant dream/fantasy but there was no way that it would every happen in real life. She dozed again.

In her next dream, Batgirl met him and they battled. He conquered her and raped her. As she was being taken, Michael recognized her discomfort. Batgirl had been raped by villains before, and, by definition, this could never be a satisfactory experience. Michael allowed the dream to fade without her waking. Then he led her dreams to another scenario.

In this dream, Batgirl was lying on a table or bed. Although not bound, she was paralyzed and totally defenseless beneath his hands. She reveled in the way his hands caressed her vulnerable body and how helpless she was as he mounted her. Barbara woke slowly as the dream faded. She was sorry that this dream had ended! In many respects, it had been so perfect that she truly regretted its termination! 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!

Michael smiled. This was the fantasy she enjoyed, that she wanted most of all! And this was the fantasy he would fulfill for her!

He sat back, leaning against the headboard of his bed, mentally running through the scenario, and thinking through the supplies he would need. He knew everything would be available. And, indeed, the non-descript room where he was living would be an acceptable location.

As the Eastern skyline began to become brighter, he checked up on Barbara again. And he was pleased that she was relaxed and would soon be dozing off again.

Yes! He had found her fantasy!

Michael slept late the next day, catching up on his rest. During the afternoon, with utmost discretion, he traveled to different parts of the city to make his purchases, and as the workday ended, he returned to his rented room with his various bundles. After a light meal, he set up his equipment, carefully dressed himself in his ‘thief’s costume’, i.e.: a black turtleneck and black pants, a dark sports coat and a slouch hat to hide his features. He considered using black face paint but decided that wasn’t necessary.

At about 8:30 PM, just as the night was thickening, he put on a set of rubber gloves and went to a payphone and using a calling card he had obtained from a drug store, he placed a call, through several intermediary circuits to confuse anyone who might want to trace it, to the Gotham City Police Emergency line, reporting an crime in progress that he knew would require Batgirl’s attention. After he hung up, he waited in the phone booth watching the alleyway entrance where Batgirl would appear as she set out on her duties. Sure enough, a few minutes later, she zipped out of the alley and away.

Once she had left, he sauntered down the street to the entrance of the alley and made his way into it.

It was exactly the way Batgirl had envisioned it. With the personal blueprint furnished by Barbara, he quickly found the hidden entrance into her building where she would return to store her bat-cycle. And the hiding place across the alley was precisely where he anticipated, and in fact was better shielded that he had expected. And as he hoped, there were a couple of crates available where he could support his hand so he could take better aim. Carefully, he checked his weapons and settled into waiting as the new-moon night deepened and the entire environment became darker.

It was about an hour before he recognized that Batgirl was on her way home. He was ready and in position as she wheeled her bat-cycle down the alleyway to approach the hidden door in her building. Michael reached out to her mind, and gave her a discernment that there was someone else in the alley with her.

She stiffened and looked around, quickly making out his shape in the shadows. She was facing him directly, and his aim was right on target. He pulled the trigger, firing a tranquillizer dart. His aim was true hitting her cheek where it was exposed through her cowl, but immediately, he dropped the gun and picked up a second.

Batgirl pulled out the dart, then started moving in on him. Michael was frightened! He sensed the weakness she was feeling, but still she was coming at him. He fired again, and again, he knew his aim had been accurate, hitting her chin. And he dropped the second gun picking up a third, but there was no time to use it. She was on him and grabbed his lapel pulling him from his hiding place, when her grip weakened. She stood there glaring at him for a moment before darkness closed in on her and she began to sink. She was no longer conscious when he grabbed her to keep her from falling to the ground, carefully protecting her from her fall.

Michael wrapped her in a carpet and hefted her over his shoulder to carry her the short distance to his rented room. It was a difficult trip, because she was heavier than he expected, probably because of the Kevlar armor she wore. But within a few minutes, he gently set the carpet aside and lay his sexy burden on his bed.

While keeping the rubber gloves on his hands, he took off her gloves, and took a set of her fingerprints on a fingerprint card. Before he took the last fingerprint, he went to the Polaroid camera on a tripod and carefully focused before setting the delay timer mechanism. Then he returned to Batgirl and took the final fingerprint as the camera snapped its picture. Setting the fingerprint card aside and inspected the picture. It was satisfactory: Batgirl and her cowl were clear and it was obvious that someone, who was not really in the picture, was taking her fingerprint.

Next, her carefully removed her cowl and wig. Sure enough, there was Barbara underneath. He rolled her on her side facing away from the camera, carefully splaying her lustrous dark hair over the mattress, and he placed the cowl and wig on her hair. Then he snapped a second picture showing her back and cowl, definitely displaying the fact that she had been unmasked. Again, the picture was acceptable. He placed the two pictures and the fingerprint card in a plain manila envelope which he left on the table.

Michael turned the camera away. He didn’t want any pictures that would place her in danger or reveal her identity. Pictures have a way of falling into the wrong hands, and he most definitely didn’t want to jeopardize either Batgirl or Barbara.

Next, her carefully placed an intravenous needle in the back of her hand and hooked it to a previously prepared bottle on a stand above her, and adjusted the drip into her system, providing her with a constant flow of normal saline solution with a carefully determined amount of a certain drug. Checking his watch, he calculated how long it would be before the sedation from the tranquilizer darts wore off and compared that with the amount of the drug she was receiving from the IV. Satisfied, he rolled her on her back and carefully restored the wig and cowl, so that she was once again, the classical, masked Batgirl. Then, he sat back and waited.

Chapter 7– Batgirl lives her fantasy!

Gently, Michael ‘tuned in’ to Batgirl’s brain. Again, he reminded himself that he was only an observer and was here to complete her fantasy, and thus any modification of her thoughts or feelings was forbidden. He didn’t want to cause her injury in any way, nor would he make her do anything she really didn’t want to do. And he hoped she would be better off after this evening than she was now.

Batgirl’s consciousness slowly returned to her, and he ‘listened in’ as she groggily took stock of her situation. As her eyes slowly focused on the IV bottle on her left side, her eyes followed the plastic tube, and she had to lift her head to observe that the IV was feeding fluids into a vein on her left hand. Michael was not surprised that she was able to lift her head, albeit with a great effort. He had purposely under-medicated her, preferring to err on the safe side.

Likewise, he was not surprised when she tried to sit up and pull out the IV. She hadn’t noticed his presence yet, and she didn’t have the strength to resist him when he put one hand on her shoulder and grasped her hand preventing with her reaching the IV. Gently, he pressed her back on the bed and adjusted the IV giving her a little more of the drug.

Still ‘tuned in’ to her mind, he knew that the tranquilizer from the darts was wearing off, and the muscle relaxant from the IV was taking effect. He felt her reaction as she recognized him, and she tried to ask him, “Who are you?” It was difficult for her to form the words.

Michael remembered the answer he had formed from a number of her previous fantasies.

“I’m the man of your dreams,” he said gently.

“W. . . .w . . . . why . . . ? she somehow managed to speak. And Michael knew that soon the relaxant would not allow her to speak at all. But he had the response she needed from her fantasys.

“Because I want you!” he spoke softly. His intonation matched the imaginary man of her fantasy perfectly, which sent chills down Batgirl’s back. It’s one thing to enjoy a fantasy in the privacy of your own mind, but it’s quite another thing if the fantasy suddenly becomes reality! Hearing him say the words made her suddenly realize how un-real the fantasy was. And yet, she was here. And so was he!

Satisfied that the IV was providing her with the correct dosage, Michael stood back and relaxed.

He sensed her attempts to struggle to get away, but the muscle relaxant would barely allow her to move. What little strength she had a few minutes before faded away. Michael continued to ‘listen in’ on her mind as she realized that the drug was permitting her mind to return to total consciousness but depriving her of the use of her arms and legs. However, she recognized that she was regaining her sense of touch, even though she had no movement.

He moved to the side of her bed where he leaned over her to kiss her cheek. 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.

Michael was surprised at the invectives that flew through Batgirl’s mind, but of course, 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 told her.

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

Michael smiled and passed his hand over her face, caressing her cheek. Holding her face gently, he kissed her lovingly on the lips. He was pleased that she enjoyed the kiss, even though she resented being kissed without her consent and participation.

Batgirls eyes widened, and dropped to watch as he slid his hand over her chest, caressing her breasts through her costume. As he suspected, her costume was really body armor, so she wasn’t able to feel his touch. She lost sight of his hand when he passed beyond her breasts.

Michael hadn’t thought of this contingency, so he asked her if she would like a pillow under her head so that she could see more.

He heard her mental scream of ‘yes’ and ‘no’ at the same time. Being unable to move, what was happening was probably rape, therefore repugnant. But she also felt that he had somehow tapped into her favorite fantasy: being paralyzed by a handsome man who, in her dreams, turned out to be a gentle and considerate lover.

Michael produced a pillow and gently lifted her head. Immediately, he realized that it wasn’t right and caused a crick in her neck. Of course she couldn’t speak, but he fluffed the pillow a bit and adjusted it.

Batgirl was amazed. Was he psychic, or what? Her head was raised 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!” Michael commented.

Michael examined the buckle of her utility belt carefully, finding the button to disarm the hidden booby trap. Then, removing the utility belt, he studied it a moment longer before pressing two signal buttons. As he continued listening in on her thoughts, he knew that the two buttons had sent the message that she was going off duty and that she would not be available for calls until further notice. He studied the belt buckle a little longer, and once he was satisfied (both from his examinations and from the mental feedback he was receiving from her) that no distress signals were being transmitted and that its homing device was not activated, he set the belt aside.

Michael enjoyed Batgirls reaction as she wondered how he knew about the fail-safe mechanisms and how to disarm them. What other secrets did he know about her?

Again, Michael returned to caress her face, and was gratified that 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, his hand 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. She decided he must have carefully examined her costume while she was still unconscious.

Michael gently separated the back of her costume to slide the armor off of her shoulders and down her arms. Allowing her to roll on her back again, he easily drew the bodice over her right hand. Her left hand required more effort and he had to momentarily disconnect the IV, then carefully slide the costume over her hand, being careful not to disturb the IV needle still in her. She watched him reconnect the IV.

Still ‘tuned in,’ Michael observed how scrambled Batgirl’s brain had become! She had enjoyed this in her fantasies on numerous occasions, but she never imagined how sensual the actual experience would be! Somehow she felt like the sexiest woman in the world as she lay helpless beneath the hands of a handsome stranger, the top of her costume lying bunched over her waist.

Michael sensed Batgirl trying to move again, and when she couldn’t, she watched, fascinated, as his hands returned moved to hover above the mounds on her chest that were still covered with the simple white cotton bra she was wearing. She knew her nipples were clearly outlined through her bra and it excited her that he could see her so clearly. His hands lingered over her breasts, not touching them, but definitely able to do so at any time.

Her anticipation was mind-boggling while she awaited his caress. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t reach out to press his hands to her. She couldn’t even arch her back, raising her bosom into his hands. He would have to actually touch her. 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 it didn’t come! 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.

He rolled her nipples through her bra and she and she began whimpering at the stimulation.

When Michael felt that the stimulation was about to overwhelm her, he slid his hands to slide downward, and noted shivers pulsing throughout her entire body. She was not so surprised this time when he quickly found the remaining fastenings holding her skin-tight costume in place and released them. Using her imagination as his guide, he slid the costume down her long, beautiful, shapely legs. Although still completely paralyzed, she actually quaked under his touch.

Michael was intrigued and excited as his hands caressed the beautiful, soft, yet athletic body. He was growing impatient as he observed her delectable body being revealed before him, and he sensed her stimulation from this simple process of his removing her costume. He kept in close contact with her mind because he wanted everything he did to match her fantasy. He noticed her wondering how he seemed to know her every thought, desire and yearning. And he smiled to himself. But he was pleased that she was recognizing this as a living, breathing, thrilling replay of her favorite fantasy. Even though she was still paralyzed, she gave a moan of surprise and pleasure as he drew her costume over her feet and let it fall to the floor. Since nothing she was wearing would hold fingerprints, he peeled off his rubber gloves.

Now, it was his bare hands that slipped up her thighs, over her hips, and finally enclosing her breasts, taking a few selfish moments to enjoy her attributes. Then he slid his hands under the small of her back and released her bra. Peeling off the bra, he drew it down and off her right arm, then down her left arm. He had to disconnect the IV to completely remove the bra. Then he sat back and surveyed the exquisite form before him, gazing at all the parts of her body he was about to lay his hands on. His fingers traced her breast and outlined her very erect nipple.

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

Michael had intentionally not reconnected the IV. He knew she would slowly regain the use of her muscles, but it would take time. And he anticipated that when she did, she would be too far gone to resist.

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. Again, he took a few moments to admire the physical perfection being displayed before him. Still ‘tuned in’ he knew she was panting in eager anticipation of her fantasy being consummated. And not wanting to cheat her of any part of her fantasy, he moved to the side of the bed once more. He felt her pang of both fear and excitement as she eagerly waited for him to undress. He slipped off his jacket, pulled 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 Michael’s blunt instrument faced her and caused her a moment of disorientation before she accepted it and turned her eyes away from him.

Her breaths were coming quickly as he lay beside her, their bodies touching. There was no thought of resistance in her mind, but he felt a dissatisfaction in her, which he sought out. She wanted more! She wanted conversation! There had never been any conversation in her fantasy, but now that it was real, she craved a deeper relationship that comes from talking, even if it’s just whispering ‘sweet nothings’ into her ear. Michael wanted to oblige her, but he couldn’t find any script to follow. Finally, he decided to stick with her original fantasy: one without conversation.

Her breaths were coming in raged gasps as he lovingly manipulated her breasts, still trying to follow her fantasy as closely as possible. He truly wanted everything about this encounter to be Batgirl’s dream come true. She absolutely quivered beneath 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. Yes, control of her muscles was coming back to her! But she wasn’t going to do anything to stop this fantasy from progressing to its ultimate fulfillment. She struggled to lift her hand to the back of his head.

His hand slid down her stomach and palpated her mound, gently massaging her with his fingertips. Batgirl held her breath and he allowed her to mentally direct his fingers slid down the length of her slit. And one finger came to rest half way between her vagina and her clitoris, indirectly stimulated her clit, but also manipulated her vaginal entrance. She felt her senses soaring! He was doing it right! Again, he inwardly smiled as she compared him to her second lover in college! He accepted the comparison as a complement and noted that what he was doing really made her feel like a woman! A real woman! A complete woman.

Her arms, a little stronger now, pulled at him to draw him on top of her. He permitted himself to be led, and his every move was a response to her desires. Whatever she wanted, he did!

Gently, he 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.

She was ready for a better touch, now, and his well-lubricated finger found her clit. She melted!

“ . . . 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 entered her, each millimeter bringing a new thrill. Mentally, he observed that his finger, still on her clit, was complementing his penetration of her, tripling the stimulating effects on her, and lifting her emotions through the ceiling! Her thoughts were mishmash, totally overpowered by the libido being released by her hormones and the liberation of her long repressed sexual desires. She wanted to cum, but she also wanted this to last as long as possible. Pathetic in her physical weakness, all she could do was to try to hold him close to her.

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. Whereas he was satisfying his fantasy of bedding Batgirl, Michael couldn’t help but notice she was anything but the tight virgin he had enjoyed in his own fantasies. Obviously, she had been badly used, or misused if you prefer, and greatly stretched, probably quite painfully. Violating his own rule, he planted a subconscious directive in Batgirl, the only one he had planted in her, to learn how to exercise her Kegals, and to start strengthening those muscles.

Their lovemaking didn’t happen fast! Michael wanted her to enjoy the experience to the fullest, and, selfishly, he wanted to enjoy her as much as possible.

Carefully following the desires and responses in her mind, Michael played with her body taking her to the brink of orgasm, only to slow down, then to lift her even higher, only to back off. Although he delighted in the way she responded, he knew it was taking too long for her taste. He sensed the disappointment and frustration she felt at never being able to reach Nirvana! Just when she approached despair that they would never reach climax, he lifted her once more toward her zenith planting the suggestion in her mind that this time they would achieve consummation. Her grunts became moans. And after each stroke, she gave a high feminine sound as she exhaled. She began repeating and incoherent plea, her face frozen, her breaths choking, her hips grinding into him as much as her weakened condition would permit. Gradually, her face took on a mixture of expressions: eagerness, sadness, a little fear. It was the expression of a woman about to cum. It was building now, building more. She wanted nothing more than to reach ecstasy. And together they soared into orgasmic oblivion, both of them screaming from passion as they came.

She collapses beneath him, exhausted. But she still feels him twitching sporadically within her. Although she had regained much of the ability to move her limbs, Batgirl was so completely drained in her post-coital bliss 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 felt good! That was one amazing orgasm! She gave a sigh of sweetness and peace.

“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. 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 8 – Batgirl’s release.

She was disappointed. But she was angry, also. She felt betrayed that he would drug her after leading her to such erotic pinnacles. Futilely, she tried to resist the drug. And Michael watched her mind go dark as unconsciousness closed in around her.

Michael, himself, felt the weariness of the activities just concluded. He would have much preferred to curl up and spoon Batgirl to him as he, too, slept. But that was not to be. First, he dressed himself in his basic black pants and shirt. Then he put on a pair of bib overalls.

Carefully, he redressed her, making every effort to restore everything as it was before. He put on a pair of cotton gloves before handling her utility belt and cape Once they were in place, he returned her glove to her right hand. The left hand still had the IV needle, so he tucked her remaining glove into his belt. Michael located the manila envelope on the table and, still wearing his cotton gloves, briefly inspected it contents: a fingerprint card and two photographs. He fastened the envelope to a clipboard and once again, he wrapped Batgirl in the carpet and hoisted her over his shoulder to carry her back to the alley where her bat-cycle remained. He kept his mind tuned to the few people around him, but he knew that a man wearing overalls and carrying a clipboard and a bundle would be totally invisible to everyone in the world. He was right. No one paid him the slightest attention.

In the alleyway, he carefully propped Batgirl on her bat-cycle, leaning over the handlebars. Once she was in place, he took a few moments, using night vision goggles, to find and pick up the dropped tranquilizer darts from the ground and safely store them in his carrying case. Then, he placed the manila envelope in her saddlebags and looked at his watch, determining how long it had been since he had sedated her. Confirming the depths of her unconsciousness with a mental probe, he took out a syringe from his pocket and emptied its contents through the IV. Quickly, he removed the tape and needle from her hand, carefully storing the needle in a special container he had brought with him. Batgirl began stirring as the stimulant began to overcome the other drugs in her body. Then Michael pulled on her glove, and quickly rolled up the carpet he had used to carry her. Throwing the empty carpet over his shoulder and taking his empty clipboard with him, he left the alley. Once safely outside the alley, he breathed a sigh of relief before tuning in to Batgirl’s mind as consciousness returned to her.

Michael continued to his room, eavesdropping on Batgirl as he walked. He didn’t want to be anywhere near that alley once she regained her senses.

Michael observed her disorientation as she awoke, finding herself on her bat-cycle. She scanned the alley, finding nothing and finally opened the secret door and parked her cycle. She arrived at her apartment at he same time Michael arrived at his. Still listening, he dismantled all of the equipment he had used, packing it as he had planned, and within minutes, he closed the door to his room behind it, leaving it stripped bare, with nothing to indicate that he had ever been there. He followed a carefully preplanned route, disposing of equipment at different locations, and finally dropping his overalls and clipboard in an incinerator shoot of a building. Then he returned to the hotel where he had started the week, arriving just as Batgirl discovered sperm in her rape kit.

Reaching his room, Michael stripped, putting his cotton gloves and his ‘thief’s costume’ in a large plastic bag and packing it in a suitcase to be burned once he returned to school. All the time, he listened in on Batgirl contemplating her options, first her anger at being drugged and being taken without her consent, although under the surface and in retrospect, he knew she would have gladly given consent if she had been able. He knew she had his DNA, and that if she wanted, she would eventually be able to find him.

As Batgirl’s anger passed, she reflected on what had happened.

Michael took a steaming shower, still listening. And was putting on his pajamas when Batgirl opened the saddlebags and found the manila envelope he had left for her. He lay down on his bed, relaxing as he felt her righteous indignation when she identified the fingerprints found in the manila envelope were her own. She drew the obvious (and correct) conclusion that ‘the man of her dreams’ knew her secret identity. She went on to draw various erroneous conclusions: that he also had a copy of her fingerprints, and probably many more photos of her which he might use for blackmail. He was pleased that she recognized that he had done nothing that might indicate that he was contemplating blackmail.

Continuing to listen, he heard her put on a nightgown and climb into bed. The sleep of fatigue quickly came to Batgirl, and Michael rolled over on his own bed. “Goodnight, Batgirl!” He whispered to no-one in particular, and he, too, slipped into sleep.

Chapter 9 -- epilog

A few weeks later, Michael left the campus and returned to his apartment, and turned the key in the lock, stepped inside and put his books on the table. He had been concentrating on the last lecture he had heard, so he hadn’t really been paying attention to what was going on around him. Subtlety, he sensed another presence in the room. Looking around her saw her sitting at his desk watching him.

“Hello, Barbara,” he greeted her. “Or should I call you Miss Gordon?”

“Barbara will do,” was the dry response. He recognized her and knew who she was!

There was a long pause when neither spoke. Finally, Michael pulled a chair from the table and sat facing her.

”Aren’t you on call?” he asked. “You’re too far from Gotham city to respond if an emergency call came through,”

“I’ve notified them that I am not to be contacted until further notice,” was her response. She was playing her cards very close to her vest, her answers non-committal.

“Really?”, he asked. “I thought Batgirl never took time off!”

That cinched it, Barbara thought. He knew who she was, and he also knew that she was Batgirl! Any residual doubt she may have had about his being ‘the man of her dreams’ evaporated. He was the one!

“I decided that this was the time to take some time off,” she responded.

“Are you here to arrest me?” he asked.

She shook her head slightly, her eyes never leaving his.

“Well, obviously, you went to some kind of effort to find me,” he asked. May I ask why you are here?”

“How did you do it?”

“How did I do what?”

“Everything!” she responded. “You knew when and where to find me. You knew about the devices in my utility belt and how to disable them. And . . . and . . .”

“And I knew exactly what was necessary to fulfill your greatest fantasy,” he finished.

Barbara nodded. “How did you do it? Have I ever met you before? How do you know me.”

“The first time I saw you was at the Mayor’s Party. And we didn’t talk then. A day or so later, I ran into you at the library. You were wearing a name tag there identifying you as Barbara Gordon.”

“But you knew my name before then, didn’t you?” she asked. “You already knew . . .” she couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I already knew you were Batgirl,” he confirmed.

“How did you do it?” she asked more urgently.

Michael leaned back and studied the girl across from him. She wasn’t that old, but she was no longer a child either. As she begged him for an answer she looked almost virginal. Gently, he peeked into her mind and immediately recognized that this was a ‘moment of truth’ for her, and it could be a turning point in her life. He also noticed that she was exercising her Kegels and they were noticeably stronger than that had been before. His code of ethics dictated that he could not harm her, but he hoped that this interview might really help her. The only way he’d know for sure was to continue.

“The girl I saw at the Mayor’s party was a lonesome, frustrated, discouraged, frightened child. Someone who desperately needed warmth and love and friendship but denies herself of these things because she ‘has something more important’ to do.” She started to object, but Michael raised a hand stopping her objection.

“As a crime-fighter, you’re one of the best. You are admired. Thousands of young girls use you as a role-model, someone to emulate. You appear to be a paragon of virtue, a tower of strength, a person who knows what she wants and will set out to get it.

“But inside, you want something that being a heroine cannot give you. Capturing criminals may give you a great sense of accomplishment, but every night you still come home to a lonely, cold bed.”

“If you think . . .” Barbara stared, feigning anger.

“Barbara . . . remember . . . I know everything about you: your identity, your wants, your needs.” Michael interrupted. “I know all about your three boyfriends in college. And I know the various one-night stands you’ve had since then. But I also know you’re terribly afraid that having a male-friend will interfere with your crime-fighting activities. And you’ve allowed this to keep you from forming relationships with anyone. Instead, you’ve indulged in a fantasy sex life. There’s nothing wrong with fantasies, except that you don’t get to know other people very well that way.”

Barbara dropped her eyes. “I got to know you . . .”

“No, you know almost nothing about me. I simply fulfilled your fantasy.”

“And I might be pregnant as a result,” she shot back, angered.

Michael smiled. “Not likely. You pay too much attention to maintaining your contraceptive regimen for that to happen.”

“You even know about that?”

Michael nodded. Then continued, “Now you have to decide if you are going to spend the rest of your life being a female iceberg and champion crime-fighter, or if you are going to find a way to let some personal relationships into your life. Whether you are going to spend the rest of your life alone, or whether you will start looking for someone to share life with.”

Hesitantly, Barbara asked, selfconsciously, “Are you a candidate?”

Michael shook his head. “What you experienced was a fantasy. The real person inside me is not nearly so interesting.”

Michael stood and took Barbara by both hands lifting her to her feet. He kissed her on the forehead the way a father kisses a beloved daughter. And started leading her to the door.

“Now it’s time for you to decide what kind of life you want to live.”

“Can we be friends? Can we spend some time talking at least? Maybe over dinner?”

“Maybe. But only after you’ve started a relationship with someone else.”

“But . . . I’m not good at that!” Barbara objected. “I never really learned how!”

“You got as good a start in College as anyone else,” Michael reassured her. “Now, you have to make the decision and start acting on it. Just the same as any other woman.”

“But I wouldn’t know how to find someone. Who . . .” her words faded away.

Michael answered gently, “you already have three possible candidates in mind.” How did he know that?! “Spend some time thinking about them and decide which one is the best. Then, act on your decision,” he completed. He captured an image in her mind and quickly added, “I think you’ll achieve the best results if you do not start your relationships in bed! Get to know the man first, let your relationship grow. Don’t get into bed until your relationship with him is well established.” Michael took a breath, “You’ll find that being intimate too early in the relationship will stunt its growth. And then all you’ll be sharing will be what takes place between the sheets. You’ll be much more successful if you build the relationship before you climb into bed.”

This seemed unrealistic to Barbara. It was contrary to everything the world at large was telling her. And yet, this man knew her as no one else ever had before.

“But what if I’m dating a man and he wants . . .”

“Just say ‘no’,” Michael responded.

“That’s not realistic. He’ll find someone else!”

“Just say ‘no’,” Michael repeated. “If he leaves, let him go. It’s the one that will stay who will be your best bet. It’s true!”

Michael cradled her face between his hands and kissed her forehead, again. “Now it’s time for you to return to Gotham City,” he whispered. “When you get a good relationship with someone going, call me! And maybe the two of us, or maybe the three of us, can have dinner.”

He folded her in his arms, holding her in a tight, fatherly way. “I love you, Barbara.”

Then he opened the door and escorted her to her car. (It was a rented car. How did he know that this was her car?) He opened her door and she climbed behind the wheel. “. Go home and be good to yourself!” he urged, and he shut the car door.

Bewildered, Barbara Gordon watched him, the man of her dreams, turn and walk up the walkway and enter his house. She stared at the steering wheel before her. But he had been correct. There had been three men in her mind who she considered ‘possibilities’. She had even prioritized them. Now as she thought about what he had said about building a relationship first, and keeping sex for ‘the dessert’, the men changed in their priority.

But starting on this project made her much more nervous than any crime fighting assignment had.

Contemplating the possibilities, Barbara started the engine, and turned the car toward Gotham City.

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

The end.

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Ethics of Mind Control