Supergirl/Batgirl Dreams of her Wedding Night.

A hotter version.

By Barnabus

 

 

(M/F, romance, Batgirl, first time, bondage, unmasking)

 

SUBJECT:

            Batgirl dreams of her wedding night.  Then she has another dream.

 

 

WARNING:

            This is an adult ‘romance’ story, containing sensitive material of a sexual nature, including graphic descriptions of consensual, "vanilla" sex and bondage.   If you find such material offensive or are underage, do not read further, but please bypass this story for one more suitable for you.  

 

            The original story, Supergirl Dreams of her Wedding Night, (Original Version)  ‘wrote itself’ in about three hours.  It is essentially unchanged from the original draft.   Before the first draft of that story was finished, I knew that I would also be preparing a ‘rewrite’ that would be longer and ‘hotter’.  Maybe even including some (gasp) bondage!   <:~O     Both versions have been completed and should be posted on this site.  (Since I have run out of Kryptonite, bondage won’t work for Supergirl.  Also, I wanted a masked superheroine for a second dream.  Therefore, Batgirl gracefully consented to replaced Supergirl in this version, (or she would have if she had been asked.  Actually, Batgirl had no say in the matter and was caught by surprise!)  For the sake of the record: in this story, Batgirl has reached the appropriate age of consent in her jurisdiction.

             

 

            Supergirl is copyrighted, trademarked, and owned by DC Comics. I am simply borrowing her for a while to introduce her to a sex life.   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 the sites are free sites . . . it may NOT be posted on any site that requires a "membership fee" of any kind.    I’m giving up on the ‘adult verification sites’.  Therefore, this story may NOT be posted to any site requiring an AVS where money is involved.

 

            Special thanks are given to J., author of “Supergirl Subdued” for his creative ideas and inspiration.  His story can be found at:

 

http://www.superstories.net/SHIP/fic/shid/supergirl_subdued.htm

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

            Birth control is used in this story.  And, of course, in 'real life' every reasonable adult should know that he or she should behave responsibly when participating in sexual activities and wish to avoid unwanted conception and the spread of disease.

 

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I appreciate your comments, both positive and negative.

Feedback is welcome at barnabus329@hotmail.com.

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Chapter 1 – Barbara Gordon Dreams

 

As Barbara Gordon was drifting from consciousness, she adjusted her position slightly to be more comfortable.  Her thoughts became disconnected and gradually drifted off into nothingness as peace settled over her in the comfort of her own bed and the safety of her own apartment.  Sleep was always a pleasant interlude in a life that varied from total boredom to massive excitement and vigorous activity. 

 

For Batgirl, sleep was the same as it was for anyone else.  One of her classmates at the university, had asked her to do a sleep study, and she had readily agreed.  Her sleep patterns were similar to most people, with light sleep, deep sleep, REM sleep.  She had several dreams during the course of the night, but remembered very few of them.  Like most people, some dreams were pleasant, some were nightmares, and some just didn’t make sense. 

 

Now, in the security of her own bedroom, Barbara’s night started the same as any other night.   Dreams came and evaporated.  Then a different dream began to coalesce in her unconscious state.  If she had thought about it, she would have known it was a dream.  It had to be.   There was disjointedness to it typical of dreams, and the details of real life were missing as they always are in a dream.  But there were aspects about it that were very real, also!

 

But she knew where she was and what was happening.   She knew that this was her wedding night as she felt her husband slide under the covers beside her.  She rolled and cradled her head on his shoulder, his arm around her, drawing her safely to him.  For a moment, she was disturbed and wondered why she was wearing her regular pajamas on her wedding night.  But even as she thought about it, the pajamas began to shimmer and transformed into a long, white, virginal night gown that was both modest but alluring at the same time.  The gown might have come from Victoria’s Secret, but it didn’t have the blatant ‘sex for sale’ feeling that many of those gowns convey.  It didn’t disturb her that the gown buttoned down the front just the same way that her pajamas had.

 

Barbara’s husband gently kissed her forehead and caressed her cheek.  That gentle caress stirred her.  The way he stroked her face made her really feel beautiful.  She raised her face to him and their lips met in a long, gentle kiss.  As her lips met his, she had remembered how good he tasted, how good he felt!  It was dark in the room and she couldn’t see his face although his cheek was smooth as though he had just shaved (she knew that he had) and there was an understated scent of cologne that she really enjoyed.  And she suddenly realized how badly she wanted him

 

               One kiss led to another and soon she was cling to him, giddy with arousal.  She entwined her arms around him. His lips became more and more demanding.  And her lips began to make more demands of their own.  Barbara felt herself melting, he felt so good!  Her entire body started throbbing from the contact with him, the heat, the need, the deep throb of emptiness filling her.  She was tingling!

 

               His hand stroked her arm in a way that was both familiar, and sensual at the same time, and she pressed her lips harder against his.   She ran her hand over his chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles beneath his white silk pajamas. 

 

               His hand returned to caress her throat, then dropped to the top button of her nightgown.  Barbara rolled away from him just enough so that he could have free access to the buttons.  Although he had held her and caressed her, the fact that he had not yet touched her breasts made her burn with anticipation.  The top button opened, and his hand ran down her breastbone to the next button, pulling the sheet with it.  Studiously, he avoiding actually touching her mounds.  His lips moved to her collarbone and he began nibbling on her skin where her throat met her chest.  

 

               The second button opened and the light constraint of her gown against her breasts relaxed.   His lips moved downward along her breastbone gently separating the nightgown enough that he could kiss her. 

 

               Another button opened and Barbara enjoyed a feeling of self-imposed paralysis as his face continued to kiss its way down her chest, gently nuzzling the material aside with his nose and chin.   His cheek grazed the inside of her breast and she reveled in the feeling of warmth that was flowing through her body.

 

               Suddenly, Barbara realized with a blush of shame that her nipples had become hard and were now quite prominent, even if they were still covered by her nightgown.  They began aching with hardness.  Her husband seemed to be mesmerized by the vision of her breasts heaving with taunt nipples beneath her gown.  She gave a shudder as she recognized the warmth was spreading to her nether regions.  She parted her thighs a bit.

 

               Finally after what seemed like an eternity, the last button opened and his hand flattened itself against her belly, gently moving to the side, taking the gown with it.  She watched as his face pushed the gown sideways moving ever closer to her breast and nipple.  He kissed his way to the edge of her breast and began to climb her mountain.  Most of her breast was still covered by the material as his lips touched the edge of her nipple sending satisfying jolts of eroticism throughout her frame. 

 

               It was Barbara’s wedding night and she meant to enjoy it as she moved her torso, pressing her breast and nipple toward his lips.  His hand rose, pushing the gown to the side revealing all of her breast.  His kisses explored the uncovered topography of her mount, eventually leaning into her breast and taking her nipple and areola deeply into his mouth.  He sucked gently, tasting a thick sweetness as she lifted her breast toward him, sending a thrill throughout her body.    Her nipples ached with hardness as his lips drew on them.  Barbara brought up her hand to steady her breast, offering it to his lips as his sucking generated excitement that seemed to reach every part of her, but centered in her womanhood.  Her sex blossomed with warmth that sent a shiver throughout her entire being.  She watched as he suckled on her and she clearly saw her breast proudly presenting itself to her husband and soon to be lover.  Now his thumb was roughly scraping her other nipple.  The sharp contrast between his gentle suckling and rough abrading send surprisingly erotic sensations through her.   If she had thought about it, she would have wondered why she could see her own breast clearly, but his face seemed to remain in the shadows.  But it didn’t matter.  They were married, this was their wedding night and it was time to consummate their marriage. 

 

Barbara felt a twinge of nervousness.  She reveled in his ministrations to her breast, but she experienced the same fear that any virgin bride feels.  Barbara had never had sex.  She was a virgin, never having had a real relationship of any kind with a man.  In both high school and college, she had been absolutely absorbed in her Gymnastics training.  As an adult, she had never even dated much because of the likelihood of being called into service as Batgirl at any moment.  Her schedule was too erratic for any kind of real social life.  Now, here she was on her wedding night, in bed with her husband.  And she knew what happened on a person’s wedding night!  She found herself captured between fear of what was coming and the incredible erotic yearnings she was receiving from his gentle, but possessive ministrations to her breast.

 

               His hand moved down her side, sliding beneath the sheet, and began pushing her bottoms downward over her hips.  She lifted herself enough so that he could press the garments downward and she actively helped him in the project.   Soon her bottoms had slipped over her heels and his hand had returned to her stomach briefly.  She watched as his fingers once more slid beneath the sheet to cup her mound of Venus.

 

            His hands on her naked flesh filled her with a consuming yearning.  Barbara couldn’t believe the stimulation she received from the combination his hand below and his lips still sucking above. 

 

                Suddenly, she was panicked.  Her husband sensed her reaction and paused.

 

            “Are you alright,” he asked.  The sound of his voice was reassuring to her.

 

            Emrarrassed, Barbara nodded.  “I’ll be alright!” she promised.  “I’m just afraid!” 

 

            She felt him relax and hug her a little tighter.  “I understand,” he reassured her.  “And I promise I’ll be gentle with you!”

 

            His voice sounded both familiar, but unfamiliar at the same time.  Barbara realized that these were the first words he had spoken since he came to bed.  Somehow that seemed strange.  But his words immediately reassured her and calmed her anxieties.

 

            Barbara sank back into the bed and wallowed in the sensation of his lips gently sucking her and his hand, softly massaging and exploring her pubis.  His hands moved with slow purposefulness – gently, but insistently stroking her naked flesh.  Barbara experienced a desperate urge to feel his skin against hers, and she fumbled with his shirt, inadvertently tearing a button from his pajamas.

 

 

            He never touched her clitoris directly, but his gentle manipulations were raising Barbara to higher and higher levels of excitement.  She ached all over!  It was a wonderful, wonderful, heated ache, the most wonderful ache she had felt in her life!   She was pulsing with heat and need and desire and excitement!  She pressing her hips into his hand, shamelessly letting her body betray her needs.  She felt an enormous sense of loss when he had to take his hand away as she slipped his pajama top off of his shoulder and down his arm.  Happily, his hand returned immediately, and his fingers moved lower to gently separate her labia majora and move between them.  Barbara lifted her hips to meet his fingers, and she felt the dampness and sensed new pheromones being released.  Her knees parted.  Impatiently, she began fumbling to push his pajama pants downward.  Together, they tore at his pajama bottoms until he kicked them off!   Snuggling closer to her, his unclothed body come into contact with hers as his hand returned to explore her further.  Naked, they clung to each other pressing together, rolling back and forth.    Barbara rubbed herself like a cat against his strong, nude body.  It was so wonderful being naked with this man that she didn’t even think of modesty.  She simply enjoyed his touch and marveled at the pleasure she had been missing all these years.  She felt his hardness against her side.  Her entire being was becoming hotter as his fingers searched out her most intimate spots   Briefly, she yearned to reach out and touch and hold his penis, but she was much too shy to take such bold action.  Maybe later!

 

Chapter 2 – the dream continues

 

            Barbara gasped and stiffened as his finger entered her.  “Uuuhhh , what’s happening?” she growled.  Breathing rapidly, she let her body relax as best she could.  Enormous heat and excitement passed through her most private parts.  He didn’t press deeply into her, and she was glad because she didn’t want to lose her hymen to his finger.  But she loved her husband.  She was thankful that he would be her first.  If he wanted to use . . . his finger . . .

 

Once again, he moved away.  Barbara felt frustrated at his absence until she realized from his jerking movements that he was putting on a condom.  Suddenly and irrationally frightened, Barbara closed her eyes.  The moment of truth was at hand and she was both eager and impatient, but also she was scared and terribly nervous.  With her hands balled into fists by her side, she felt like a chastised schoolgirl waiting for the principal’s next words.  Her arms were trembling.  Within moments, her husband rolled back to her and put one knee between her thighs.   Terrified and reluctant, she momentarily resisted his intrusion between her legs.  It took an act of will to release her thighs, and he shifted his hips and his weight settled, separating her knees.  

 

            Gingerly, she put her arms around him as she felt her breasts flatten beneath his weight.  Her nipples rasped against the hair of his chest, chaffing her nipples even more deliciously than his thumbs had!   Oooohhh, how she loved him!  He was her husband.  What he was about to do was rightfully his to take, and hers to give.  Barbara stopped breathing as she felt him spreading her dripping labia, nuzzling her entrance.  She parted her thighs wide, emitting a low, animal growl.  Her vision went white as he gently moved between her lips, and abruptly, time slowed!  Her sex was hot for him, and his touch made her feel goose bumpy and her nipples surged to a hardness that surprised her.  She was breathing in quick, little gasps. 

 

            She couldn’t keep her hands off of him.  So she gave in and stroked his body to her heart’s content.  Enfolding her arms around his neck, she pulled his lips to hers, kissing him hungrily.  Almost as if she were an observer, her body ached to be touched and filled by this man!  She drew her heels toward her body so that her knees opened wider.  And she groaned softly feeling his strong shaft taking its place between her swollen lips.  Barbara hissed, feeling him sliding deeper into her, her arms running over his body, clutching at his shoulders.  Her breaths were panicked gasps, and she felt her swollen labia separating to receive him. He was unbelievably gentle with her. She was filled with the wonder of it!  Entranced, almost detached, she concentrated on the sensation of heat and stretching.  She ached all over!   That wonderful, most wonderful, heated ache she had felt in her life.  It was magic!  It felt like magic!

 

            Suddenly, she stiffened as she felt pressure against her maidenhead and she clutched him to her.  Did he know he was pressing against the proof of her innocence? 

 

            “I know,” he whispered into her ear, capturing her face between his loving hands.  “I don’t want to hurt you!  Try to relax!”

 

            He knew!  Enormous relief flooded through Barbara.  He knew!  And he was concerned for her!    How strange it was that someone didn’t want to hurt her!  She had spent her life keeping other people from getting hurt.  Now someone, her husband, wanted to keep her from being hurt!

 

               Barbara relaxed her body.  She didn’t want to resist his taking of her virginity, claiming her innocence.  He took a fistful of her long mane in his hand, and slowly, he pressed further and the pressure increased.  So did the pain!  Barbara had experienced pain frequently.  But she had never enjoyed it!  She willed her body to submit because she didn’t want to refuse her husband.  She turned her face away to keep him from seeing her discomfort.  The pressure increased.  

 

            Suddenly, without warning, her hymen ripped and he penetrated her body with a satisfied moan.  A deep groan, almost like a death rattle, escaped from Barbara’s lips.   It hurt like hell!  But at the same time, she experienced the satisfaction of her husband moving deeper into her.  He froze and waited for her, her tight walls rippling along his length.  The intimacy of having her husband in her was incredibly rewarding, she was more than willing to suffer the short period of pain for the rewarding satisfaction she was giving her husband, as indicated by his moan.

 

            “Are you all right?” he asked.

 

Barbara smiled at him.  “I am now!” she replied, feeling his gigantic member pulsing deep inside of her.  “But I’m glad that that’s over!”  Barbara was giddy with arousal and she clung to him.  Without thinking, her muscles tightened around his girth. Her calves slid up against his, linking her ankles tightly around his legs and she rolled her hips up toward him as she used her legs to pull him to her and with a groan, he sank into her.  He backed off momentarily, and then drove in deeper.  She wailed as she pulled him into her, writhing in his grasp, feeling her walls expand with his slow, torturous penetration.  She bucked her hips and back onto him, feeling the length fill her deeper with each lift of her hips, splitting her sex as he bored deeply into her.   After two or three thrusts, he sank into her with a groan.  Barbara felt his pelvis touch hers and their pubic hair meshed.  He was all the way in her, and she pressed her hips against his.  She was awed by the feeling of fullness she received from him.

 

            He began thrusting and her body moved with a will of its own, twisting, seeking, rolling her hips, meeting his fierceness with her own, her hands clawing at his shoulders, driving him harder into her, demanding everything he could give her.  He rode her hard!  Both were grunting in time with their thrusts and she sensed the pleasure and satisfaction her husband was drawing from their lovemaking.  The pain of her deflowering was gone, but there was still a slight residual soreness.  She struggled feverishly beneath him, grinding into his hardness, bucking slowly at first, then increasing the tempo.  She marveled at the harsh sounds he was making, the growling desperation of his grip, the increasing tension and heat in her own body, a sensation winding tighter and tighter!  But that was nothing when compared to the satisfaction she felt from her husband’s attentions to her.  Idly, she wondered if she’d have to change her name to Batwoman now that he’d made a woman of her. 

 

            He began speeding up and breathing faster and Barbara matched him thrust for thrust.  She was a tight one.  And very ready!  She bit at his shoulder as his tool pounded her deepest limits.    He was obviously becoming more excited and more consumed with her.  The constriction of her tight walls drove him to pound even harder, gasping and choking.   Pressing deeper into her, she clutched him to her.  She felt his manhood swell as her walls gripped the invading member driving deeply in and out of her.  She leaned into him to kiss him and suddenly, he reached critical mass as he exploded.  She heard him grunting and sobbing, and her hips frantically surging against him.   He continued to pound into her and she felt the world dimming around her.  He stiffened, then, gave a long, low growl, as he convulsed wildly inside of her, her juices squishing as he frantically pounded her, his hot semen gushing deep inside her ravished vagina.  She pounded back into him, meeting his every thrust.  His climax seemed to go on and on and Barbara clutched him to her, lurching her hips up to his groin as she felt her body clenching his throbbing tool, encouraging yet another group of spasms from his body.  She tried to milk every last drop of semen from him, even though she knew his seed was being captured in the condom. 

 

 

He slumped onto her, still deeply within her, and she purred and sighed, her thighs wrapped around his waist and her hips slowly lurching into him, her whole body shuddering.  She felt his tiny orgasms rolling through him and into her like the aftershocks of an earthquake.

 

For nearly five minutes, he simply lay on top of his bride.  Barbara hadn’t climaxed, but that didn’t bother her.   Her husband had! 

 

            They had consummated their marriage.   And she smiled, secure in the knowledge that their wedding night was a success.  Her feeling of well-being came not just from the intensity of their making love, but lying together afterward with her head cradled on his shoulder and his arms around her.   Feeling fatigued, she dozed, cuddled against him.

 

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Chapter 3 – Barbara wakes.

 

Barbara’s eyes snapped open as she awoke with a start.  She was breathing heavily and sweat seemed to be dripping from her body. 

 

Relaxing back into the mattress, she took a deep sigh.  And she smiled with pleasure, remembering her dream.  That was one dream that she was glad she remembered.  She felt weak as she relived the experience in her memory, and without thinking her hand moved to her womanhood.  She was wet!  Very wet!   Yes, indeed!   That had been some dream!  Idly she wondered if a girl could have a ‘wet dream’.  Obviously she could, because she felt the evidence with her own fingers. 

 

Dreamily, she slipped out from under the covers to go to the bathroom.  She hesitated as she stood next to the bed.  Hadn’t she worn pajamas when she went to bed?  Absently, she pulled her pajama tops from the tangled bedclothes and started to slip them over her shoulders.  There were streaks of blood on her inner thighs!  Was it her virginal blood?  As disturbing as this recognition was, her concern quickly faded as she remembered it had been her wedding night.  Or had it? 

 

She went to the bathroom to clean herself off.  When she returned from the bathroom, she surveyed the rumpled bed looking for her pajama bottoms.  She flicked on the light and pulled the covers back, finding the pajama bottoms lost at the bottom of the bed.  Picking them up, she stepped into them and her eyes came to rest on a wet spot in the bed.  Remembering her dream, she wondered if this was a famous ‘wet spot’ she’d heard people refer to.  The wet spot wasn’t that big, but she acknowledged that her dream must have been awfully realistic for her to produce a wet spot as big as it was.  She looked closer and found a streak of blood, her blood.  But then she saw something else.   She reached into the covers and retrieved a button with a small patch of white silk still attached to it.  Holding the button up, she observed that it wasn’t from her pajamas. 

 

            Barbara knew she should be upset and shocked by this evidence in her bed, but immediately she calmed down and knew that there was nothing to be upset about.  For a moment, she wondered why she shouldn’t be upset by what she had discovered.  But without explanation, her concerns faded from her mind.

 

            She pulled the used linen from the bed and put it to the hamper.   Getting clean sheets, she quickly made the bed. 

 

            Then she paused for a moment.  Making a decision, she went to the kitchen and picked up a pair of scissors and returned to the hamper.  Taking the sheet, she carefully cut out a patch containing the wet spot and blood traces.  She put the piece of material in her night stand drawer and dropped the rest of the sheet into a wastebasket.

 

Barbara smiled as she turned off the light.  She had enjoyed her dream.  She was glad she could remember it.  As she slipped back between the sheets, she hoped she would be able to enjoy that dream again.

 

 

 

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Chapter 4 – Supergirl Dreams Again

 

A week had passed since she had dreamed of her wedding night.  After a day or two, the soreness she had felt between her legs had healed and been forgotten.  Once more, Barbara Gordon drifted into sleep.  Her bed was comfortable and seemed to enfold her in a snug, relaxing embrace. 

 

And she had had more dreams where her husband had come to her, dreams which seemed to be two people learning about each other as they explore each other.  Occasionally, Barbara had had erotic dreams before, but never before had the dream included actual sex.  But in her recent dreams Barbara had moved closer to orgasm in each dream as she made love.  Barbara cherished each dream.  She had always been Barbara Gordon in these dreams, and she still wasn’t sure who the man was, other than knowing that he was her husband.  Of course, he knew that she was Batgirl (how could a husband not know something like that about his wife?), but Barbara wasn’t sure how he knew.  She was relatively certain that she had never told him herself.  But he knew.

 

Barbara also remembered talking to him, in the satiated bliss of sexual afterglow, about some of her experiences as Batgirl, how she had been captured and tied up and tormented by different villains.  Although it had seemed perfectly natural in the context, when she remembered her dreams, Barbara was embarrassed when she remembered telling her husband how turned on she had been when she had been captured and bound by the Riddler!  Surreptitiously, the Riddler had groped her several times, but for the most part he had been so involved in his making of bad riddles and talking about his master plans that Batgirl hadn’t really felt molested when she escaped.

 

Every night since Barbara had dreamt of her wedding night, the bed had always been reasonably made when she awoke with no physical traces of the sexual activity of her dreams.

 

These dreams were not typical.  Normally, one forgets dreams when they awake or the dreams begin to fade afterwards.  But Barbara’s dreams of her husband remained vividly in her memory. 

 

But, most of all, she enjoyed the memory of the dream of her wedding night.  She replaying it in her mind, as she slipped off into nothingness at the end of the day.  Batgirl’s life faced certain dangers, but she was always comfortable in the peace and safety of her own bed and in her own apartment.

 

            Tonight, as she slept, dreams came and evaporated.  And once again, a different kind of dream began to coalesce in her unconscious state.  Dully, if she had been able to think in her unconscious state, she would have recognized the same pattern she felt each time she dreamt of her husband joining her.

 

            Once again, she knew where she was and what was happening.   But this wasn’t her wedding night.  She knew that had happened earlier.  In this dream, she had been married for a while. 

 

            Gradually, the scene formulated in her mind.  She was wearing the form-fitting, one piece black spandex costume with the familiar bat-emblem on her shapely chest.  Was her husband going to find her dressed as Batgirl?  That had never happened before!  Her flaring hips were emphasized by the yellow utility belt was still buckled around her waist just above the wide leather belt.  (The wide leather belt?)  Boots and gloves were in place completing her uniform.  The material of her costume hugged her athletic body proudly displaying every curve she had. 

            Her figure was good, and she had designed the costume to show off every aspect of its attractiveness in a way she could never do as the prim and proper librarian and daughter of the police commissioner.  But as Batgirl, she could look at any man and think, “Eat your heart out, buddy.  You can look, but don’t even think about touching!”

 

            Batgirl gave a sad sigh as she realized that her activities as a gymnast in school and as Batgirl since, had never allowed her the time to date or develop real relationships with men.   She would enjoy being touched and petted, all of the things that go with a romantic relationship, but her life style prevented it.  That was probably one of the reasons she had designed her costume to be such a blatant sexy display of her womanhood.

           

            Batgirl’s image focused on the wide leather belt around her waist below her utility belt.  The belt had leather cuffs on each side that enclosed her wrists effectively immobilizing her hands and wrists.  The belt and cuffs was positioned such that she didn’t have access to her utility belt.   Absently, she reflected she needed to modify her costume so that there was a hidden pocket where her hands were now to hide lock picks and other tools that might be useful in a situation like this.   Her ankles were also bound, but she wasn’t otherwise restrained as she lay on her own bed in her own apartment.

 

            Another form moved into her vision.  She knew immediately it was her husband dressed in a mask and a Riddler’s costume.  A surge of adrenalin flashed through her.  There had always been something about the Riddler that turned her on.  Of course, she had never permitted the chemistry to reveal itself, but she always felt it.  In fact, she had mentioned this to her husband (she thought).  Was he playing games with her to permit her to play out the fantasy? 

 

            Probably not, she thought.  Sure, Batgirl had been captured by villains since her crime fighting career had begun.  And they had tied her up and occasionally groped her.  But for all their criminal brilliance, most were really stupid!  The logical solution to their problems would have been to simply kill her so that she would no longer be around to interfere with their plans.  But instead, their egos required they boast to her, often telling her of their plans, gloating over their success.  And, in the end, somehow they always made a mistake allowing her to escape and capture them, sending them back to prison.  She started to speak to try to get the Riddler to start talking, the first step toward defeating him, but as she opened her mouth, he slapped a piece of duct tape over her mouth.

 

            Batgirl didn’t like that!  Frequently she had been able to talk her way out of predicaments, but the tape effectively silenced her.   Rationally, she knew ‘the Riddler’ was really her husband, but the tape made her feel more helpless.   What if the man standing over her really was the Riddler?

 

            He stood over her smiled with a wicked grin as he leaned over his near-helpless prisoner, lying on her own bed, hands and feet bound.

    

            His caressed her throat, then her cheek that wasn’t covered by her cowl.  Then, with surprising dexterity he unclasped her heavy cape and rolled her to the side to pull the cape out from beneath her.  Batgirl’s captor gave a slight whistle as he looked down on her curvatious, spandex coved body which covered her as effectively as a layer of water and which revealed almost every detail of her shape.  He removed the utility belt from her trim waist and discarded it on top of her cape beside the bed. Her boots went next.  Immediately, he grabbed her neck and lifted her head to access the zipper on the rear of her costume, which he pulled downward with a single movement.  Without missing a beat, the costume was peeled over her shoulders down her trim arms to her wrists and waist revealing Barbara’s simple, flowered, cotton bra.  Her cowl was still in place.

 

            Batgirl was astonished at how quickly she had been stripped.  To be sure, she had tried to roll away from his hands to avoid or at least prolong his actions, but within seconds, she was almost completely exposed before him.  Although hands and feet were restrained, Batgirl tried to roll off of the bed to get away from him, but he captured her arm in the midst of her rolling motion and pushed her onto her back.  From out of nowhere, he produced another wide strap which fastened around her neck, then was secured around the bed itself.   Batgirl could thrash and try to roll, but the neck fastener greatly limited what she could actually do without hanging herself.

 

            She tried to object, but the tape over her mouth allowed only muffled grunts to be heard.  If she really thought the man standing over her was the Riddler, she probably would have continued to struggle until she was totally exhausted.  But since it was her husband . . . it was her husband, wasn’t it? . . . Batgirl knew she could simply enjoy the living out of her fantasy.

 

            The man standing over her leered at her.  He bent down and gently kissed her eyelids through the openings of her cowl.  Then he kissed her cheek, which was revealed through her cowl.  His hand touched her bare collarbone, and slid down until his fingers were pressing softly against her nipple through her bra.  Batgirl stiffened.  He was still kissing her face, but he was also touching her nipple.  He wasn’t doing anything to molest her breast, but the pressure of his fingers combined with the feel of his kiss was sending electricity throughout her entire being.  Both of them felt her nipple hardening beneath his fingers. 

 

            Without changing the pressure against her nipple, his lips moved to her collarbone and his free hand softly slid the shoulder strap of the bra to the side.  A loud gasp escaped from Batgirl as his free hand peeled the bra cup from her until only his finger pressing through the cup prevented further peeling.  He kissed the exposed flesh drawing tantalizingly closer to her nipple with each kiss.  Batgirl lay in blissful anticipation.  She knew the feel of her husband’s lips on her nipple, but the anticipation he was building in her was mind-boggling.  Even if the man kissing her breast had been the Riddler, she doubted she would be able to resist this interplay.

 

            After an eternity of anticipation, his lips pushed the cup far enough that he kissed the edge of her nipple.  Batgirl tried to arch her breast to raise her nipple to his lips, but he continued kissing while his fingers continued applying their relentless pressure.  Her nipple was so hard it felt like it would burst at any moment.  She wanted to pull his hand away and grab his head, forcing his lips to enfold her protrusion, but the restraints prohibited that.   But unknowingly, her hips were grinding up and down and her knees were pressed together, stimulating her. 

 

            Finally,  finally, his fingers released their pressure, pulling the bra cup downward revealing her entire breast as his lips pulled her entire nipple into his mouth.   Irrationally, this simple act made Batgirl feel like a complete woman!  Batgirl found herself relaxing, and becoming more tense at the same time.  But she also felt herself becoming more excited in the pit of her stomach.  Absently, she recalled her wedding night.  Or the dream of her wedding night.  She had thoroughly enjoyed sex with her husband, but she hadn’t orgasmed.  Would she be cheated if he brought her to her first orgasm with him by manipulating her breasts?

 

            Suddenly, the sucking on her nipple decreased, and he released her, kissing her nipple and the breast flesh around it.  Batgirl was breathing in ragged gasps.

 

            Again, he was leering down at her, gladly observing her one naked, saliva covered breast, the other was still covered by her bra.  His eyes scanned the rest of her figure as she lay there panting beneath his gaze.

 

            His hand ran down the arm closest to him, sending shudders through her already stimulated body.  Holding her forearm with his free hand, he released the cuff holding her wrist and pulled off her glove, which joined the pile on the floor.   Still holding her forearm, just above the bunched material of her costume, he tightly grasped her, pressing the arm and hand to the bed and peeled the costume over her free hand.  

 

            Batgirl flailed, but any resistance was ineffective.  She tried to organize her thoughts to think of a plan of escape, but free hand was lifted above her head and cinched by another piece of equipment which she couldn’t see.  Quickly, her second wrist was released from the cuff and the glove and sleeve was removed before the second hand was also fastened above her head.  Her captor took some time working with the new restraints, making sure that they were attached just right.  (Batgirl assumed it was to be sure she would have no opportunity to escape.) 

 

            Her legs were still bound at the ankles.   Without a word, he fastened individual restraints on each ankle, which he attached to the foot of the bed so she wouldn’t be able to kick him.  Her ankles weren’t bound together any longer, but the were individually bound to the foot of the bed.  Batgirl was thankful, at least, that he hadn’t spread eagled her!

 

            He released the wide leather belt at her waist.  Then, ever so gently, he moved his hands down her sides and began pushing her bat-costume downward toward her hips.   Batgirl trashed frantically, kicking wildly making every attempt to resist her captor.  She tried to cry out her objection, but the tape over her mount allowed only hysterical grunts to be heard.  Looking to his eyes, trying to beg for mercy, she found only an evil grin.  Her struggles became more frantic as her costume slipped past her slim waist revealing her white cotton panties.  She was making every heroic attempt she could imagine to keep the villain from exposing her.  The tape covering her mouth permitted only a long, anguished wail as her trim, tanned legs felt the cooler air of the room brush against them. But soon, the bottoms had slipped to her ankles, and over her kicking heels.   Only the straps tying her legs to the foot of the bed kept her costume from falling to the floor.

 

            Barbara was breathing heavily from the futile exertions to defend her modesty.   Finally she lay, glowering at the man in the Riddler’s costume.  She realized it was slightly silly trying to express anger and contempt when she was dressed only in her cowl, panties and bra, which was currently covering only one breast.  Again she tried to verbalize her complaints but could only make muffled sounds through the tape covering her mouth.   Meanwhile, his eyes appeared to be hypnotized by her breasts, rising and falling with each breath.  She shivered, being nearly naked in the cool room, her toned washboard abs and slim stomach were perfectly displaying her athletic body.   Her panties provided scant privacy against his piercing gaze and her long legs twitched nervously in her helpless condition before him. 

 

 

 

            He took the time to re-fasten the wide leather belt snugly around her waist.

 

            She shivered as he moved beside her and his hand slid up her leg to cup her Mound of Venus.  He took a few moments to kiss her stomach as he began kneading her mound.   Pressing through her panties, she felt his finger begin to press the cotton material into her as the length of his finger indirectly manipulated her clit.  She liked being touched like that and felt herself beginning to lubricate.  Then, almost suddenly, he kissed her though her panties and ran his hands down her legs, keeping enough pressure on her skin to avoid tickling her. 

 

 

            Carefully, he released the strap holding one of her legs to the foot of the bed.  He was ready when she tried to kick and thrash, so, holding her leg down, he waited until her struggles abated.  After the strap had pulled through the leg of her costume, letting it drop, he forced her knee to bend and attached a strap from her ankle band to the wide leather belt around her waist.  Pulling the strap tighter he fastened it when her knee was bent and her heel almost touching her buttock.  Again, he paid particular attention to the way the strap was fastened to the belt.

 

            Although she tried to resist, her other leg was quickly strapped to the waistband.  Thus, tied, Batgirl could keep her bent knees together, but she had very little leverage.

 

            Once again, the villain stood over her, gloating at her helpless condition. She could try to roll from side to side, but the neck strap put definite limits on her movements.   His hands gently caressed her face and cowl, and as his fingers began to slide under her cowl and lift, she was immediately filled with the fear of being unmasked and vigorously shook her head. 

 

            Apparently he honored her wish as he let his hands slide down her chest.  Slipping his hands behind her, the bra immediately loosened and his hands covered her naked breasts, capturing her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling them.   Batgirl couldn’t believe the consuming yearning that was growing from his gentle, but possessive manipulation of her breasts and nipples.  She writhed within his grasp, again feeling her nipples hardening under his manipulation. 

 

            Just as she felt her nipples would explode from stimulation, his hands flashed out to grab the fabric of Batgirl’s bra and jerked the flimsy cloth away with a snapping sound.   Batgirl gave a horrified whimper as her perky, full bust was exposed.  He gave a wicked grin as he leered at the perfectly shaped pale globes.  

 

            Again, with lightning speed, his fingers grasped the waistband of her panties and the shocked Batgirl gasped once more as a second tearing sound accompanied the shredding of the last remnants of Batgirl’s underwear, depriving her of her last bit of dignity, jerking her hips up from the table and causing her ample breasts to bounce and jiggle as her body was completely stripped before her captor.  Fortunately, her cowl was still in place, but that was small consolation as the cool air covered her from her neck to her foot.

 

            And yet, restrained both hand and foot, paralyzed by the embarrassment of her stark nakedness, there was nothing the bound heroine could do.  Her total helplessness being tied up and naked before him subliminally caused Batgirl to feel even smaller, more unprotected, more helpless that she had ever felt in her life.

 

            Grinning over his helpless captive, leering at her nude body as she ineffectively labored against her bonds, the Riddler dropped her shredded undergarments on the pile with the rest of her clothes. 

 

            He bent down, his face inches from hers and caressed her ear through her cowl, which was all that remained of her costume.  Eskimo-style , he rubbed noses with her as his hand slipped down to pass over her breasts.  Batgirl’s eyes widened when she realized he wasn’t reaching for her breasts but moving lower over her taunt, athletic abdomen toward her exposed mons.

 

               Batgirl tossed her head emphatically from side to side, her muffled pleading ignored.  Terrified, she frantically fought, her long legs kicking against her bonds, writhing in his grasp, feeling his hands draw closer to her sex.  Batgirl tried to keep her knees locked together to block his access, but having her heels bound so close to her buttocks, she was unable to provide enough resistence to prevent his assault.  His fingers found her labia and slid between them, entering her wet sex, which clamped down on him like a vicious dog.  At almost the same time, his lips closed over her nipple and areola sucking them deeply, heightening her shame as her full round breasts swung and bounced hypnotically in an effort to escape him.  He tasted a thick sweetness combined with her perspiration as he drew more of her breast into his mouth.  Struggle as she might, it was a losing battle, and Batgirl cursed and writhed as she struggled in vain to keep body’s responses from betraying her.  His finger slid deeper into her with a slow purposefulness.

 

               He hadn’t touched her clitoris at all, but Batgirl found her helplessness, bondage, and being manhandled a greater aphrodisiac than she could ever have imagined.  Although totally helpless in her bondage, she ached all over with an ache that she feared could only be relieved one way.  His finger was pressing deeper into her with no attempt to stimulate her, and somehow this annoyed her.   It was almost as if he was searching for something he had lost.

 

               Sucking steadfastly on one nipple, fingering her with one hand, he used his free hand to stroke her free breast as if he were stroking a cat.  And unconsciously, she was leaning into his strokes.  He continued poking his finger into her, prodding her, making no effort to stimulate her, just . . . . hunting . . .

 

               Without warning, Batgirl’s eyes bulged out and she gasped as her vision went white.  No one had ever found her ‘g-spot’ before, and she didn’t know what she was experiencing.  Observing her reaction and began attacking her g-spot energetically.  She stiffened, breathing rapidly as enormous heat flooded her body, everywhere!  Her thighs parted as widely as she could and she emitted a low animal growl through the tape covering her mouth.  Frantically, she rubbed her faced against his head as he continued sucking on her nipple.  She was lurching against his hand, her fists, straining against their bonds, clenching and loosening.

 

               Mercilessly, he caressed her g-spot sending spirals and sparks before her eyes.   Never, never! had she experienced anything like this!  Her body was soaring!  Her emotions were spinning, She was his toy to play with for as long as he wanted.  Even if she had been free, she would have been helpless to resist him!  He could continue doing whatever he wanted; she was powerless, lifting her hips to his fingers.

 

               “Pleeeease!” she tried to scream through the tape gage as she released herself into her primal lust.  Totally helpless, she bucked against his hand, feeling her walls convulse against his torturous penetration.  Suddenly, his thumb found her clitoris, grating and sliding against that sensitive organ, doubling the stimulation of her trembling body.

 

                    She screamed, thrashing against his manipulations.  There was no telling what she would have said if her mouth hadn’t been covered by the tape, but there could have been no rational utterances.   All modesty and morality that she may have ever possessed was lost in the trembling stimulation that drove her to a clenching, erupting release.   If she were conscious of what was going on, she would have felt hot gushes of cum exploding from deep inside her ravaged womb.  Her vagina gripped his finger, her insides clenched up, her release erupted and her frantic gyrations drove her thrashing hips against his hand, driving his finger into her even harder.  Her head tossed aimlessly.  Her scream became a long, squeal as her insanely intense climax began to pass.

 

               She was dripping with sweat, and the inside of her cowl, the only part of her costume she was still wearing, was soaked and plastered to her skin.

 

Chapter 5 – the moment of truth

 

               Gently, even lovingly, he slowly and carefully withdrew his finger.  Batgirl knew she should be feeling something, a sense of loss that he was leaving her, gladness that he was no longer molesting her, something!   But she was so drained from her incredible, mind-blowing orgasm, that she could barely feel anything.

 

               Eventually, she was able to look up at him.  Gradually his shape began to focus as her breathing returned to a semblance of normality. 

 

               Without emotion, Batgirl watched the Riddler grasp the waist band of his top and lift it over his head.  His arms and shoulders were well proportioned, but not muscular.  Obviously, he was not a regular at the gym. 

 

               Bending slightly, he removed his shoes and his hands found the waistband of his tights, drawing them down and off.  Absently, her eyes focused on his erection as he stood beside her, dressed only in his mask.

 

               Gently, his hands caressed her, passing over her breasts and down her body.   The simple suggestion of pressure from his fingertips separated her thighs.  Her bondage would have allowed her to resist, but she had no energy or will to resist any direction he gave her.

 

               Without a word, he moved to the foot of her bed and moved his body between her thighs, and suddenly, irrationally, Batgirl felt a desperate desire to feel the touch of his skin against hers.  Slowly, gently, he lowered his weight over her. 

 

               She felt a familiar comfort as her bosoms flattened beneath his weight.  There was a familiar joy as her breasts rasped against the hair of his chest, deliciously scratching her nipples

 

            She gasped as he made contact with her and gently pressed between her still tingling lips.  Carefully spreading her lubrication, he lovingly imbedded himself deeper into her.  Emitting a low, animal growl, she parted her thighs wide and she felt herself expanding to receive him as his pulsing member reached deeper and deeper depths.  Futilely, Batgirl tugged at her bonds.  Once again, he lay still over her, gazing into her eyes, her body trembling beneath him.   She felt helpless and totally filled with him.  He was totally filling her.  Once again, he caressed her face and lovingly kissed her.

 

            “I suppose we’ve reached the point of ridiculousness, haven’t we?” he asked.

 

            Batgirl gave a long, contented, sigh and nodded. 

 

            He took tape from her mouth, and she whispered hoarsly, “. . . . hands . . . my hands . . . “  She gasped again.  “Please . . . release them . . . .”

 

            He began to reach above her head to where her hands were bound, but stopped.  Supporting his weight on both elbows, he put his hands on each side of Batgirl’s face and kissed her again.  Then with one hand holding her forehead tightly against the bed, his free hand loosened the clasp of her cowl under her chin.  Realizing she was about to be unmasked, Batgirl instinctively struggled, trying to pull away from him, to throw him off of her, anything to prevent her mask from being removed.  But she was still totally helpless beneath him: her hands bound above her head, her heels strapped to the leather belt round her waist, his hand holding her forehead against the bed, even her hips being pinned to the bed by his weight on her pelvis and his penis firmly implanted in her vagina.

 

            Slowly, gently, but firmly, against her struggles, her cowl was raised and pulled off of her head along with her red wig.   Barbara Gordon stared up at him, instinctively feeling the terror of having her mask removed.

 

            Once the mask lay on the pillow beside Barbara’s face, her natural brown hair splayed around her head, he reached up above her head and with a single movement, both of her wrists were freed instantly.  Her arms clutched him to her like a drowning man grabs for a life preserver.

 

              She held her face against his and whispered, “. . .l - l - legs. . .” 

 

            One hand reached to the leather belt around her waist.  And after a moment, that leg was loosed which she immediately wrapped around her protagonist.  His other hand moved to her other hip and her second leg was loosed.  Immediately, her ankles locked behind the man who was invading her most private parts.

 

               Eventually, Barbara felt her body relax.  Then slowly, tentatively, her hands went to his mask and he made no effort to prevent its removal. 

 

            His face was in the shadows, but Barbara recognized her husband.  She cupped his face between her palms and kissed him.  Her body began throbbing anew, throbbing from being in contact with him, but mostly from his penis still deeply embedded in her sex. 

 

            Her entire body pulsed with heat and need, and desire and excitement.

 

            “I’m throbbing all over!” she gasped out.  “I don’t know how to explain how I’m feeling”

 

            She could barely hear his whispered response:  “I’ll make it stop!”

 

               Batgirl’s entire body relaxed, but her arms and legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper into her.  She was exhausted, but she still found the energy to lift her hips into his to meet his thrusts.  She felt his length filling her deeper with each lift of her hips.  Her warm, dripping vagina seemed to suck him into its depths, her walls rippling along his length as he gladly responded by driving himself as deeply into her as was possible.  There were no screams left in her being, but warm, satisfied moans accompanied each thrust.

 

               Their lovemaking was slow but exceedingly sensuous.  Barbara was still exhausted from her previous climax.

 

               He moaned. shuddering at her hot tightness.   He gave a long low growled, feeling her sex suck at him, squeezing him as he pressed deeper into her as her long, tight, moist walls rippled along his length.  He felt the tightening growing in his testicles, clenching his heart and viscera driving him deeper and harder into her welcoming body. 

 

               Barbara made quick little gasps, thrashing into him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders with a needful intensity.   She felt her insides grasping him, clenching him, fiercely claiming him as her own as she rose again to a climax.  There was nothing more she could demand of him.  He was giving her everything he could, everything she needed.  And yet, somehow he was still unbelieveably gentle with her. 

 

               “Yes!” she gasped in a trembling whisper between thrust, as she felt him swelling within her.  “Yes!”   She began to convulse wildly as her tight walls constricted around his invading member.  “I’m so close . . . so close . . .”  She clutched him, clawing at his shoulders trying to pull the two of them closer together as if she wanted their entire bodies to merge, not simply conjoin.  “  Aaaahhh yes yesyesyescommingcomming ahhhh commmmiing! NOWWWWW!!” and her hips smashed into his with an intensity not to be believed, fueled by an ecstasy of devotion to him.  Her gut-wrenching orgasm erupted clamping on him as her head flailed backward and she felt the torrents of his love exploding deep into her, filling her.  She would have screamed if there had been any screams left within her.  Instead, she thrashed against him encouraging the sheer volume of his seed that continued erupting from him.  She mewed as spurt after spurt of his love shot into her depths.  His arms tightened around her as he blasted yet another wave of his cream into her, his continuing orgasm claiming her as his own. .

 

            Purring and almost sobbing, her thighs wrapped around him holding him close to her, once again the feelings of intimacy she shared with her husband overwhelmed her.   Her hips lurching slowly and her whole body shuddering.  She prayed that he felt the intimacy, too, that he shared her joy as they physically shared their love.  She felt a burning knot in her stomach of pure, feminine possessivness as tiny orgasms rolled through her being like the aftershocks of an earthquake.

 

 

 

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Chapter 6 – Barbara wakes.

 

            Slowly, consciousness returned to Barbara as the light of the new day streamed in through her window. 

 

            Sleepily, she looked next to her, then to the other side.  She was alone in bed.  But what else could she expect?  Her conscious mind told her that she wasn’t married.  She had never been married, and she wasn’t married now.  But her dreams just kept getting better and better! 

 

            She felt filled with a sense of well-being.  If she could enjoy sex this well in real life, maybe she should give up this Batgirl nonsense and take up men! 

 

            And she remembered her dreams with ‘her husband’.  Her memories of every dream she’d had with her husband were as clear as a videotape.  A videotape!  She rose and started toward the hidden closet, but she found she could barely walk, her insides felt so abraded.  Sex was great, but sometimes the after affects get to you, she thought!  (But if it had all been a dream, would she be experiencing these aftereffects?)

 

            Opening the hidden closet, she examined the camcorder tape she had installed shortly after her first dream about her wedding night.  (She knew it was a dream, but it seemed so real . . . .)

 

            She rewound the tape and pressed the “Play” button.  And there she was, getting ready for bed.  The time and date stamp was the previous night.  She fast forwarded and watched herself settle into a deep sleep, occasionally stirring, dreaming normal dreams.   She played to the end of the tape, watching for any indication of exceptional activity.  She saw none.  Soon, she witnessed her awakening and moving to the closet, and she turned off the tape.  Absently, she checked the timestamp and it showed the correct time.  But slowly, as she looked at the time stamp, a strange anomaly registered on her brain.  Quickly calculating the difference between when she had gone to bed and when she awoke, she had slept for a little over eight hours.   But the timer on the recorder indicated that only five and one half hours had been recorded!

 

The End (probably)

 

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