Batgirl - Arkham Asylum
A “Batgirl in Bondage” Adventure
All the characters in this story (with the exception of Dr. Kink and Nurse Shackle) are the copyright property of DC comics. This story is not a challenge to the legal copyright of the owners, or to the creators of Batman Arkham Asylum, or Arkham City. This story is a work of fiction and parody. It is fan fiction, and is not to be copied, altered, modified, or posted on any website without the express permission of the author. No characters in this story are based on real people. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. All characters are over the legal age of consent. There is "Adult" genre involved in this story. Be forewarned. This is in no way meant to be misinterpreted of any characters who are the properties of DC comics or anyone else. The following is strictly for amusement.
PREMISE: This parody story was inspired by the popular video game Batman Arkham Asylum, but the plotline in a decidedly more erotic direction. This story takes place two years after the events of the original video game, and one year after the events of Batman Arkham City. At the beginning of our story, Arkham has been rebuilt, and Barbara Gordon has full use of her legs, and is Batman's crime-fighting partner, Batgirl.
Chapter 1 - Arkham
The world famous Batsignal blazed in the dreary night sky, as an ominous black muscle car powered down Gotham's rain-slicked streets at high speed. Less conspicuous than other Batmobiles, but just as heavily armed, the highly modified 2LT RS was designed to pack a wallop, while blending in seamlessly with Gotham traffic, and it did just that. The ruse had fooled Harley Quinn long enough for Batgirl to get close, and take down the crazy clown girl . . . once and for all.
Now as Batgirl sat behind the wheel of the overpowered, armor-plated vehicle, steering a direct course for Arkham Asylum, Harley sat in the seat beside her, captured and securely Bat-cuffed. The two of them were illuminated only by the blue cockpit lights of the dashboard, doors, and head's up display.
As they tore down the street, the sign outside the windshield read, "Arkham Island 1 Mile."
"Gosh, B-girl, you shouldn't be drivin' so fast. What's yer rush?" she asked.
"I want to get you back behind bars, Harley, . . .where you belong," Batgirl responded flatly. Her tone was all business, but even in her fiercest persona, the young crime-fighter was still drop-dead gorgeous, and oozing with innocent, all-American, infectiously cute, girl-next-door sexuality.
A moment later, the armor-plated vehicle tore through the outer gates of Arkham, and skidded to a halt just outside the Asylum's newly constructed main entrance.
After the widespread destruction and devastation that had been caused by the Titan experiments two years earlier, a number of the buildings on Arkham had undergone considerable renovations. During the intervening years, many buildings at the asylum had undergone extensive repairs, while others had been completely demolished and replaced with more modern facilities. The Intensive Treatment Building was one such structure that had been completely replaced. Though the exterior of the new building had been designed to directly echo the architectural cues of its predecessor, the interior was entirely new.
What's more, the new building had an entirely new purpose, fulfilling two functions. The right half of the structure provided holding cells for incarcerated patients requiring intensive treatment, while the left half served as the "Kinkaid Center for Sexual Health and Wellness," a modern facility designed for conjugal visits, as part of a larger program to promote and nurture healthy sexuality in resident patients.
Moments later, the front doors of the Intensive Treatment building were dramatically kicked open, to reveal a striking image, the one and only Batgirl, silhouetted against a stark moonlit sky, holding Harley Quinn firmly by the arm.
Batgirl was doing her best to fulfill the role created by her mentor, the brooding avenging Dark Knight. But Batgirl's striking silhouette plainly revealed her remarkable feminine physique. Dressed in form-fitting low-visibility gray and black Kevlar-mesh, much like her mentor, Batgirl was encased in over $60,000 worth of custom-made flexible light-weight high-tech body armor, weapons, repelling equipment, and communications gear. While her suit did not give her absolute immunity from hostile weapons, it provided the best balance of protection possible while still preserving maximum flexibility.
While some portions of the suit were highly armored, other areas, particularly the area from her waist to her knees, consisted of little more than thin, revealing, stretchy Lycra, vinyl, and rubber. The armored panels that protected her upper body and extremities were brilliantly designed to blunt incoming ordnance or edge weapons. Few blades or bullets in the world could easily penetrate the armored sections of high-tech hide. Only a needle-thin titanium point had any chance of penetrating the Wayne-tech mesh. Yet the form-fitting suit stretched and flexed in all the right places affording Batgirl all the flexibility a gymnast or martial artist could want. But it did nothing to disguise all the marvelous wiggles, jiggles, and bounces that naturally befit a woman of her age and build.
A bulky utility belt was slung low on her hips, emphasizing the generous feminine swell of her hips, and the remarkably narrow cut of her waist. In an attempt to better match Batman's uniform, Batgirl's latest suit had been designed to include a set of dark "briefs," but the final result had inadvertently ended up looking a bit more like a daring sexy thong, further enhancing Batgirl's feminine appeal, perhaps just a bit more than she had intended.
A familiar black cowl, filled with advanced protection and communication devices covered her head, while high boots encased her slender shapely young legs. The boots could be worn as flats for combat or physically demanding stunts, or convert to high-heels when she needed to boost her slim physique to maximum height to give her slight frame an added element of intimidation.
But for all of Batgirl's body armor and personal gravitas, the truth was, that at 5'6" and 125 pounds, with the body of a 22 year old cheerleader, Batgirl (even with all of her truly impressive crime-fighting skills, genius computing skills, and world-class combat abilities) did not quite look like the dark pillar of unforgiving retribution that the Batman was. Instead, such were the nature of her irrepressible youthful good-looks that, despite her best efforts, she appeared to be equal parts dedicated crime-fighter, . . . and . . . comic-book good-girl cheesecake.
Even so, she had captured Harley entirely on her own, and the streets of Gotham were certainly safer for her efforts. Harley was back in her Arkham City garb: no mask, the tips of her pony tails tinted red and black; skin-tight red-and-black leather-and-vinyl hip-huggers that clung to her curves like nobody's business. . . And their sexy little shiny sheen added just an extra layer of "deliciosity" to the whole affair.
As Batgirl made her entrance, a bolt of lightning struck close outside, briefly flooding the interior of Intensive Treatment's outer lobby, with a brilliant flash of light. The flash of lightning dramatically revealed a tall imposing figure emerging from the shadows of the lobby to greet the newly arrived visitors. Tall, gaunt, and balding, with sparse reddish hair, and severe predatory features, the imposing doctor wore a long white lab coat and studious looking glasses. He was flanked by two large muscular prison guards. Now the cadaverous Doctor's bright burning eyes glared intently down at Batgirl over his long hawk-like nose. Though they had never met before, Batgirl noticed the nametag on his white lab coat read: "Doctor Kinkaid: Warden." But as the doctor stepped forward, his digital security pass jostled around obscuring part of his nametag, so that all that remained visible was, "Doctor Kink--."
Batgirl recognized the name instantly. He was Arkham's newest Warden, Doctor Bartholomew Kinkaid.
When she'd first heard the news that Arkham was being reopened, Barbara had wondered who would be brave enough (or foolish enough) to take responsibility for such a tragedy-riddled assignment as Arkham Asylum. The disaster of the Titan experiment under Warden Sharp's reign, and the fiasco of Dr. Strange's "Arkham City" had left the people of Gotham weary and cynical about Arkham's ability to maintain control over its inmates. Surely any new warden would need to take drastic steps to reassure Gothamites that this time things would be different. Batgirl's research on the Batcomputer had revealed Doctor Kinkaid's personal profile:
Bartholomew Thaddeus Kinkaid was born to a wealthy family in London. Raised in sprawling "Kinkaid Castle," he always excelled in his studies, showing an early interest in criminal psychology. Graduating with highest honors from Cambridge, he received his doctorate in psychology, and surprised many when he decided to take a position at "Broadmoor Hospital and Criminal Lunatic Asylum," a super-max facility for the criminally insane in Berkshire, England treating approximately 260 inmate/patients. Over the years, he moved up through the ranks and soon he was put in charge of the prestigious asylum. In addition to his experience with extreme cases of the criminally deranged, the good doctor also became one of the world's most renowned experts on intimacy and sexual healing. Two years ago, he applied for the position as chief doctor and warden of Arkham. Financial research reveals that the doctor was not only responsible for directing the reconstruction of Arkham, but that he also used his substantial family wealth to personally donate most of the money to build the asylum's new Kinkaid Center for Sexual Health and Wellness.
"Welcome, Batgirl. I thank you for having returned Harley to us," the Doctor began in smooth English accent. "We were terribly worried for her. How comforting to have her back at her home, . . . among our welcoming Arkham family. . ."
Switching to "Detective Mode," (a form of tactical computer-generated head's-up display that was built into Batgirl's cowl) Barbara quickly scanned the guards to see what weapons, if any, they were carrying.
The strange computerized HUD display view gave Batgirl a sort of "X-ray" view of everything around her. Structural details of the building became more evident, and human figures were enhanced by a CG overlay which showed each person's skeletal outline, as well as revealing what weaponry a person might be concealing. Lethal weapons were displayed in red, non-lethal were displayed in blue. In this case Batgirl quickly saw that each guard was packing a multi-shot tranquilizer pistol, and a stun baton. Having assessed the guard's tactical value, Batgirl switched back to normal viewing mode.
"It's good to meet you, Doctor Kinkaid. See if you can keep Harley locked up this time." Batgirl said with more than a hint of healthy cynicism.
Gotham's rate of escape and recidivism was deplorable, and everyone knew it, making the job of the Police and of other crime-fighters all that much harder.
"Welcome back, Harley!" the doctor said with inappropriate warmth. "It's so good to have you back within our welcoming walls."
Harley flashed an inane smile, and waved at him with her cuffed hands.
"And many thanks to you, Batgirl, for all your . . . truly heroic efforts. Thanks to your promptness, Batgirl, Harley has returned just in time for her regularly scheduled conjugal visit with the Joker."
"WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Harley cried in glee, doing a jaunty little impromptu jig. While she genuinely looking forward to another conjugal session with the Joker, she also knew that the ironic timing would really irk Batgirl.
"You're welcome, Doctor," Batgirl responded soberly, then she muttered under her breath, ". . . I think." Then, changing the subject, she continued, "I certainly hope you can do something to address the recidivism rate here at the Asylum."
"Oh yes," Dr. Kinkaid responded eagerly, "I most certainly can help with that, Batgirl. You're probably wondering why we need a center for sexual healing here at Arkham Asylum. And I completely understand your misgivings, but the truth is, Batgirl, that sexuality is one of the most neglected aspects of treatment in recovering criminals. By promoting healthy sexual norms in our inmates, we can make them feel loved, and teach them about sharing, caring, togetherness, and sensitivity in a way that no other form of therapy can possibly replicate. Of course conjugal visits are an important part of that healing, but they aren't our only tool here. We also conduct ongoing therapy sessions, meditations, and even hypnosis therapy. It's a well-rounded approach that I am quite confident will yield impressive results. By acknowledging an inmate's sexuality, we are acknowledging that they have needs, and that is the beginning of trust, . . . and healing."
"Yeah!!!" Harley chimed in, making an exaggerated frowny-face at Batgirl, "A girl's got needs too, ya'know!" she snapped defiantly.
But Batgirl was already well aware of that annoying little fact. Her magnificently sculpted young body was positively boiling over with feminine needs, . . . but that would have to wait for a more appropriate time and place.
"You seem very dedicated, Doctor. What made you decide to come to Arkham of all places?" Batgirl asked, genuinely curious.
"Well, of course, Arkham is known for its, extreme cases," the Doctor began, ". . . No offense, Harley."
"None comprehended," she quipped cheerfully, a zany expression adorning her pretty features.
"So I reasoned that if I could refine my techniques to promote wellness in these poor misunderstood patients, what better way to prove the effectiveness of my theories?"
"Well, . . .good luck to you and your work, Doctor," Batgirl responded. "I'd best be going," Batgirl added as she turned Harley over to the custody of the prison guards.
"Oh please, Batgirl," Doctor Kinkaid added. "You still seem skeptical. As a such a visible member of the crime-fighting community, I beg you not to judge our efforts before we've even been given a chance to prove their merits. Won't you take a moment, to see our new facility? We've worked so hard to change the perception of Arkham as a dark dreary scary place to be feared. I'm certain that a brief tour would open your eyes and put your mind at ease. Can't you spare just a moment of your time? . . . "
"Well, . . ." Batgirl paused. The doctor's sincerity was infectious, ". . . alright, but I can only stay for a few minutes."
"EXCELLENT! . . ." the Doctor beamed happily. Then under his breath he added, ". . . a few moments is all I'll need."
Now 2 burly guards in white jumpsuits approached. At Arkham, guards were often referred to as "orderlies," as the name seemed less intimidating.
"You can take those Bat-cuffs off of Harley now, Batgirl," the Doctor explained. "There is no need for such crude restraints here. Our orderlies will see to it that Harley remains well under control. We want you to feel at home here, Harley."
Batgirl reluctantly unlocked Harley's Bat-cuffs and stowed them in her low-slung utility belt. A moment later the two orderlies led Harley off down a long hallway. The Doctor and Batgirl followed along behind them, with another two orderlies bringing up the rear behind them.
"Now, Batgirl, you'd be doing us a great service if you'll just follow Harley and orderlies until they've taken her to a safe holding area. The orderlies will lead the way through those double doors ahead and into our new facility. There, . . . I think you'll begin to see something of my own vision for the future."
As Batgirl followed along behind Harley, she couldn't help but to notice the shiny attention-getting leather-clad physique of her captured nemesis. The "red on one side/black on the other" design of her stretchy leathery pants did wonders to show off the cleft of her already ample ass. While Batgirl had no Sapphic tendencies whatsoever, she wasn't above noticing when another woman "had it goin' on."
But as they passed through the double doors, Batgirl's attention was quickly drawn to a new target, . . . the room around her. Batgirl gazed with wide-eyed wonder at the interior of Dr. Kinkaid's new facility. It was beautiful! . . . modern, clean, and brightly lit. The high walls were white with cheerful decorations, uplifting art, sculptures, and inspirational mobiles hanging from the ceiling. It felt as much like a modern museum as a mental health hospital. It was all a marked contrast from the sad dingy, dreary walls of the old Arkham.
Batgirl coughed slightly as she continued, perhaps a reaction to the smell of the newly painted walls. As she looked up, she saw skylights overhead. And while she could at the moment only see a massive full moon through the skylights, she imagined how, during the daylight hours, refreshing sunlight must stream cheerfully into this structure of hope and promise.
As she allowed herself to dream for a moment of inmates truly seeing the light within these walls, Batgirl suddenly felt a little bit dizzy. "Those paint fumes are really strong," she thought, as she tried to shake it off.
As Batgirl walked ahead, looking left and right, up and down, marveling at the new facility, the Doctor slowly, . . . subtly fell back behind her. There, his eyes enjoyed the scene as her short scalloped cape swished temptingly over her marvelously developed derriere. The natural feminine swish and sway of her wide shapely hips utterly captivated him, as did the churning of her shapely buttocks.
Continuing forward into the long corridor, Batgirl gave voice to her feelings, "Doctor, I have to admit, this facility really is quite striking. I really admire what you're trying to do here, but --" Another wave of dizziness hit her.
"S-soooo, d-dizzy. . ." she gasped. The world around her was positively spinning and swimming around her.
Amidst her dizzy spell Batgirl felt a sharp pain in her left buttock, as though a mosquito had just bitten her. Reaching back to cup her magnificently full curvy left buttock in her hand, she was astonished to find a small cylindrical dart protruding from her flank.
A half-second later, an identical dart pierced the very center of her curvaceous right buttock.
Whirling around, Batgirl was shocked to see Doctor Kinkaid standing behind her, holding a large repeat- fire tranq gun, which was pointed directly at her.
"DOCTOR! What the--"
A third dart had impacted her right gravity-defying breast, easily piercing her Wayne-tech mesh. The dart impacted the magnificently feminine form, causing it to suddenly compress before bouncing back into shape with a distractingly jiggly ripple.
The fourth dart impacted squarely in her jutting left breast, sending it briefly into a series of sloshing jiggling motions before it finally came to a halt, as Batgirl stood and stared at him, utterly dumbfounded.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Batgirl. Didn't I explain? While I have a doctorate in Sexology, one of my favorite fields of specialization is fetish play, . . . specifically cosplay themes, and in a peripheral way also bondage, chloroform, sleepy fetishes, etc.
You see, the truth is, it was my interest in cosplay that originally brought me to Gotham. Where better to study costumed specimens than Arkham, where costumed specimens are lined up like cordwood, neatly caged and ready to be studied? But once I arrived, I wasn't satisfied experimenting on villains. I soon discovered that there was a higher form of cosplayers, . . . costumed heroes, . . . and heroines. The public is obsessed with superheroine fetishes as well. The internet is filled with of images of you Batgirl, bound and gagged, . . . in sexually compromising positions."
Batgirl was aware of such websites. Some of them creeped her out. While others, like "The Wizard's Lair," she found strangely . . . tantalizing. On more than one occasion, she'd found herself intensely aroused just looking at the images of herself and other heroines being bound and . . . pleasured.
"And so you see, Batgirl," the Doctor continued, "I soon discovered that the ultimate pinnacle of my cosplay research would have to be the study costumed heroes and heroines, . . . starting with the most popular and exciting Gotham heroine of all . . . you!"
For a moment, Batgirl stood there, speechless. With four darts sticking out of her body like the quills of a porcupine, she was quite a site to see. Swaying on slender, shapely legs, she glared at the doctor in utter astonishment, her vision began to blur into double and triple vision, and the sounds around her began to slow and distort.
"There-there-there's no-no-no need-need-need to worry-worry-worry, Batgirl-girl-girl. . ." Doctor Kinkaid spoke in what seemed to Batgirl like an echo chamber in a fun-house. "The tranq-tranq-tranquilizers will have no-no-no lasting side effect-effects-effects. . . Oh, the fun that we're going to have with you here-here-here . . ."
And with that, she felt two more darts impact her ass, "K-THWAPP!! - THWAPP!!" loading two more darts of tranquilizer into her buttocks, an area of her uniform that was completely unprotected by Waynetech's armor mesh. Pierced now with FOUR tranq darts, Batgirl's full pouting buttocks couldn't have been more appealing or alluring.
Whirling reflexively, Batgirl turned away from the doctor, to find Harley Quinn, standing there, holding two matching tranq guns! The orderlies who were supposed to be guarding Quinn, now stood at the clown-girl's sides like hired goons, brandishing stun batons threateningly at Batgirl. In an instant, Batgirl could see that the guards worked for Dr. Kinkaid, and that they had given their tranq guns to Harley.
Switching belatedly into combat-mode, Batgirl reached for a Batarang, but her fingers felt numb, thick, and clumsy. She couldn't grip it, as the Batarang clattered feebly to the ground. Batgirl tried to focus.
What was going on? What was--"MMMMMMMMMMPPHHH!!!!" Batgirl cried out through a chloroform-soaked rag that was suddenly clamped down over her dainty little nose and pretty mouth.
"There-there, Batgirl," the Doctor chided as he held curvaceous young heroine tightly from behind. "Struggle all you want, my dear. Candidly, I love the feeling of your tiny fit body struggling so uselessly, . . . within my grasp."
The doctor did love the feeling of having the young woman struggling weakly within his tight grasp of his arms. Normally, of course, as a world-class martial arts expert, she could have easily escaped him and turned the tables. But the "paint fumes" that she had inhaled earlier hadn't been paint fumes at all, but instead a fast-acting intoxicant for which the doctor, Harley, and guards had already been given the antidote. Then the darts had injected a special concoction of the doctor's own design, that would rob the girl of her strength, and leave her even groggier. Finally, the chloroform-variant that she was breathing so deeply now, left her as weak and helpless as kitten, while boosting her sex drive by a factor of 40X.
"My, my, Batgirl," the doctor continued as the chloroform slowly went to work, "I don't know if I've ever seen a woman whose figure so lent itself so naturally to cosplay, to say nothing of chloroform and erotic bondage. I suspect you'll be a natural at gags as well. Your wriggling wiggling hips, your divine jutting breasts, and your devilishly pointed groin are all positively captivating. . . You see, my dear, you've just become a test subject in my laboratory-tory-tory of erotic studies-udies-udies-udies . . ."
"Mmmmm-nmmphh-hh" Batgirl's young svelte twenty-something body wriggled and twisted desperately in the Doctor's sure and certain grip. Her curvy tapered limbs struggled weakly. But the slow writhing motions and moans, as heroic as they were, were also inadvertently quite sensuous, . . . as the Doctor molded his body firmly against Batgirl's, ramming his hips up against her plump rump, pressing his hardening male bulge deep into the welcoming cleft between her soft jutting buttocks, as his senses drank in the highly exciting scent of her hair, and his leering eyes peered over the top of his glasses to drink in every curvaceous form of her body, with glaring unabashed lust.
"Don't get yer panties in a bunch, B-girl," Harley chided, as she watched Batgirl wriggling uselessly yet sensuously in the Doctor's grip. "The doc had you figured from the start. He knew you'd jump at the chance to hall my ass back to then clink. The whole thing, including my escape, was a set up to lure you here. Once you were here, the doc had to slow you down with the gas and those tranq dart's or we'd've never been able to get the drop on ya!"
"MMPPHH!! MMPPPPHHH-HH!!" Batgirl mmphed through the chloroform-soaked rag, as her sensuous young body writhed seductively in Doc Kinkaid's grip. The darts and the chloroform would have been enough to drop a man twice her size, so it was only with heroic aplomb that she was able to hang on at all, as her shapely curvy tapered thighs and plumply rounded buttocks squirmed more and more slowly, . . . more and more sensuously.
"Perhaps you're even feeling the heat yourself, Batgirl. Those tranq darts of mine, contain a special concoction, which I developed with a certain patient of mine, . . . Poison Ivy. It's an herbal extract that not only has a tranquilizing effect, but also boosts the subjects arousal levels by 4083%. Feels good, doesn't it?"
Indeed it did. For even through Batgirl's swirling senses, she could feel her body coming alive with desire. "mMmmmph!-mmmmphh-hhhh," Batgirl gasped meekly, as she noticed feelings of arousal steaming up between her legs.
Doctor Kinkaid was not a strong man, but he was fairly tall, and he loved the feeling of holding this diminutive closely clad young heroine so tightly and securely in his arms, as her strength and coordination slowly ebbed from her fit sexy little feminine body.
"What could be sexier?" he wondered, as he shoved the stiffening bulge of his manhood deep into the plunging soft cleavage of the heroine's soft full rounded leathery ass. It felt good there. It felt real good.
"mm-hhhhh nnngghhhhhhhhhh-hh. . ." Batgirl protested weakly, as she felt him stiffening against her. The world around her was spinning. Harley, who was watching Batgirl's inevitable defeat with a grin of delighted amusement was barely a blur in Batgirl's fading consciousness.
"nghhhhhh-hhh..." the heroine sighed. Sensing Batgirl's weakness, the deranged doctor loosened his grip, and began fondling Batgirl's ripe jutting tits.
"MMMMPPHH!!" Batgirl protested feebly, but the sexologist had free reign now, and he relished every moment as she squeezed and fondled his foe's magnificent tits. They were large and heavy, exquisitely soft and buoyant. Now as the doctor groped her tits, the Batgirl made not the least attempt to stop him, her arms hanging limp.
"Yeah, and get a load of her bum too, Doc! Wowzers!" Responding to Harley's suggestion, the doctor's hand dipped down and sampled the swell of Bargirl's hips and her plump generous curves of her soft unresisting thonged ass. The simple groping caused the doctor, the clown girl, and Batgirl to all begin to lubricate.
Sensing that the fight had all but left Batgirl, the Doctor leaned in closer to feast his eyes on his newest and most cherished prize. Batgirl's pleading eyes looked up at the doctor, but found no comfort there.
"Welcome to my Laboratory of sexology, Batgirl. You're going to be the main test subject in a series of elaborate experiments on fetishes and human sexuality. While you're her, you may call me Dr. Kink!"
The crimefighter's eyelids were barely open now, her thick dark eyelashes fluttered. With that, Batgirl's beautiful eyes rolled up into her head. Her arms fell limp and slack, and she sagged heavily into Dr. Kink's arms, with a low moan of utter and complete sexual submission, "UNGHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. . ."
As her pretty chin fell to her ample Bat-emblazoned chest, the Doctor's eyes glazed with lust. What a pretty picture this slumbering heroine made, a sensual smorgasbord that was ripe for the taking, and she was all his. For a moment, he savored his absolute domination of the sexy young heroine. . .
Now the Doctor lowered Batgirl's spent form, and allowed her to crumple slowly to the ground. When she landed, her buttocks wobbled and quivered temptingly , as she splayed out in an erotically suggestive pose, with her wide hips and defenseless bottom jutting temptingly upward, nicely on display.
Crouching down, he reached out and began playing with the fallen heroine's plump nicely available buttocks, happily groping, squeezing, and wobbling them in his hands, as the heavily dosed heroine gave no resistance whatsoever. The doctor had dreamed of this moment for some time, so he was bound and determined to savor it. Nothing would cheat him out of this moment. Bouncing her wobbly buttocks in his hands, he marveled at the girl's cheeky feminine assets, petting the thonged globes of flesh with fetishistic zeal, as she cooed softly in dreamy slumberland. She was everything he had hoped for.
Maneuvering her now, the wayward doctor, rolled Batgirl over onto her back, to get a better view of her impressive Bat-chest. Even with the layers of high-tech rubberized body armor, it was truly magnificent. Seizing her large jutting breasts, one in each hand, he delighted in squeezing them and groping her defenseless highly sensitive inner thighs at length, while Harley looked on, vicariously enjoying the lurid scene that was playing out before her.
Clicking on a hand-held recorder the deranged doctor spoke, "Personal Note: What is it about a sleeping heroine that is so irresistible? Her apparent innocence? Her absolute vulnerability? The availability of her body? Be sure to follow up with further experiments."
"Whatcha gonna do with her?" Harley asked, as Batgirl's pretty feminine form lay helpless and alluring on the floor.
"Are you kidding?" the Doctor replied. "I'm going to do . . everything to her."
Through bleary dreamy eyes, the groggy Batgirl looked up now, as Harley and Dr. Kink leaned in low over her. The Doctor spoke, saying, "It's a good thing I spent the extra money on those titanium tipped needle darts." Then reaching down, he unbuckled Batgirl's utility-belt buckle, and slipped the bulky accessory off of the heroine's hips. Then he commanded his orderlies, "She's out now. Take her away."
Chapter 2 - Nebuchadnezzar and Balthazar.
The largest of the orderlies scooped Batgirl's slumbering form up, and slung her light frame easily over one shoulder. In that provocative position, the girl's full wide womanly hips were nicely on display, as her arms swung loose and carefree, her long mane of red hair swishing lazily. The girl's dark narrow thong neatly bisected her shiny rubberized backside emphasizing the full round curves of her soft pliant available pillow-like buttocks as well as accentuating the dramatic depth of the cleft between them.
The site was too tempting for the Doctor to resist, so for several long moments he shamelessly pawed, petted, fondled, and played with Batgirl's full shapely upturned ass. His hands swept hungrily over her shapely pouting supple backside, as well as the swell of her hips, and her smooth sleek sweeping thighs. Again the unconscious girl cooed submissively, as though deep in her slumber she were enjoying the groping.
At last, he broke off his reverie, and commanded the orderly, "Place her on the gurney."
A moment later, the orderly gingerly placed the sleeping heroine on her back on a nearby gurney. Sprawled out lazily, her peach lips gently pursed, her shapely legs slightly but temptingly parted, Batgirl cut quite a suggestive image. Lying there like a sleeping beauty, her sensual appeal was obvious and undeniable.
"Uhhh, geeze, boss, that Bat-chick sure is a hottie, ain't she?" said Lefty, a small weasely orderly with a bad comb-over. "I mean, look at them thighs, and those Bat-titties. . . Heh, heh, . . . I mean, she must'a been some kind of head cheerleader type back in the day, don'cha figure? Or maybe she was one o' those dames that wears those crazy-short plaid school-girl skirts, so you can see them hot sexy thighs. Don'cha think, Doc?
The doctor responded in cool professional terms. "Judging from the lack of skin on display in her costume, it is fair to assume that Batgirl was a shy, conservative, inhibited, bookish student, hardly the cheerleader type, regardless of what her physique may be. In order to be a crime-fighter in Gotham she must be highly intelligent, and an accomplished acrobat. Based on these insights, its far more likely that she was a librarian, or perhaps a gymnast, likely majoring in the criminal sciences."
"Uh. . . Yeah sure, boss, whatever you say," Lefty replied to the doctor's eerily spot-on analysis. "Yeah, so's maybe she was one of them sexy librarian dames, in the crazy-tight skirts, and the schoolmarm glasses. Heh-heh! Soooo, uhh, I don't s'pose you'd mind if'n I was to feel her up a bit now, would ya, doc? I just wanna get my hands on dem 'Bat-titties' and 'Bat-clitties,' y'know what I mean?"
As the sexy heroine writhed and cooed sensuously in her aroused delirium, one could almost understand, if not condone, Lefty's sentiment, for surely the tightly-clad dozing girl was a deliciously tempting sight.
As Lefty reached out to grope Batgirl's nicely available hips, Doctor Kink looked back with disdain at his weasely henchman, but his response was a strange one. He simply responded with one word, "Nebuchadnezzar."
At the sound of this "activation word," all personality departed from Lefty's face, and the small weasely orderly, assumed a blank expressionless gaze, apparently losing all interest in the curvaceous girl, and staring blankly ahead like a zombie. Likewise, the other orderlies assumed a similar state.
"You will speak of this no more, Lefty. Batgirl is here for my experiments alone. She is not for you."
"Yes, Doctor," Lefty responded blankly.
"Wow! How'dja do that, Doc?" Harley asked, confused by the sudden transformation in Lefty's behavior. "I wish I could get guys to back off that easy."
"It was child's play, my dear. All of my orderlies, doctors, and nurses, (and many of the inmates) have undergone extensive 'hypnosis therapy.' During hypnosis, sometimes augmented with medication, I've managed to implant a number of 'control words' which allows me, at a moment's notice, to suppress their individual will, and do my bidding. I use the control word 'Nebuchadnezzar' to activate their hypnotic state, and," then lowering his voice to a whisper, so that the others would not hear, he said, " and the control word 'Balthazar' to release them."
"Cooooooooooooooooooooooool!" Harley exclaimed, clearly impressed. "That must come in handy."
"Indeed it does. . . Now, Lefty, . . . bind Batgirl," the Doctor commanded.
"How come ya picked such funny control words? Are they magic, or somethin'?"
"Hardly, my dear. I simply selected words that are not likely to come up in common everyday speech, to minimize the chances of accidental activation."
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Sure! That makes sense!"
And with that, Lefty emotionlessly, rolled Batgirl over onto her stomach, to tie her wrists together behind her back, at her narrow waist. He well knew how the doctor preferred to have his sexier patients restrained. As Lefty bound her wrists, Dr. Kink casually patted the girl's tempting rump. Next, Lefty rolled her onto her back and bound Batgirl's legs together at the knees, and again at the ankles. Finally he wrapped the rope around her chest, just over and under her prominent jutting pointed breasts.
When he was finished it was clear that Dr. Kink approved as he gazed lustfully down at the slowly writhing groggy heroine. Indeed the bindings had improved her appeal. He loved the ways her thighs were now pressed together, framing the triangle of her mound. The arms behind her back caused her breasts to be thrust provocatively upward, while the bindings at her slender ankles and knees somehow emphasized the width of her slowly churning hips.
For a moment, the doctor groped Batgirl's shiny thighs. Lost in her dream-state, Batgirl was no longer aware of her environment, but the much-needed thigh massage was not lost on her, and even in her drug-addled stupor, her arousal levels spiked dramatically.
Now, as the doctor stepped back, Lefty and the other orderlies began pushing Batgirl's gurney down the hallway, with Harley and the doctor closely following at either side. And even as their small procession moved along the doctor's keen eyes rarely strayed from the voluptuous sight of Batgirl's young, oooing, cooing, dozing form. . .
Dr. Kink dismissed Harley and his orderlies, and rolled Batgirl's gurney to holding cell AA-63. He used his security pass to unlock the door, then rolled the gurney (with Batgirl) inside the small dark cell. Then the doctor locked himself in the cell all alone, . . . with Batgirl.
After checking that no guards were around, the Doctor began running his hands all over Batgirl's perfect available body. He had never known its equal. He loved the smooth contours of the girl's hips and thighs, especially the sleek smooth shiny rubberized texture of her uniform, as it played over the curves of her deeply cleft ass.
As the Doctor leaned down, he casually reached out to sample Batgirl's available ass, as well as her more than generous breasts. With all the fight knocked entirely out of her, the doctor took a few moments to grope the unconscious bound girl, before he cut her free from her bindings, and then, with her limbs now freed, began to pose her and grope her shamelessly to his heart's content, with his attentions focused unerringly on her inner thighs, mound, ass, and tits.
His groping was thorough, very thorough. . . the fronts of her thighs, . . . her inner thighs. As he stroked her sleek inner thighs, the girl, even in her unconscious state began to coo erotically, so softly. . . "Ohhhhh-hh, . . . ooooooooo-hh . . ."
Encouraged by her responsiveness, he screwed up his courage, and reached back to grab a handful of her bountiful ass. It felt great in the palm of his hands. Rolling her over, he gazed at the curves of her perfect rubberized ass at length, then leaned over and began kissing her beckoning buttocks. Then further inspired, he began to stroke the girl's gently curved pouting mound. Now the Batgirl's brows knit, in intensity, and her mouth opened as she gasped in obvious delight.
Now the doctor pawed Batgirl's rubberized breasts with one hand, as he skillfully caressed her mound with the other. Batgirl's breathing intensified, into excited breathy gasps, as her thighs parted invitingly. Stroking the highly aroused heroine's needy center, he gently urged her ever nearer toward a well-earned and imminent release.
The doctor's fingers were trapped happily in the tight confines between the plump curves of batgirl's full sleek thighs, where they tightly framed the contours of her mound. He loved the way she was squirming in her bindings, and thrusting back eagerly at his fingers. The thrusting was clear, eager, and undeniable now, her breathing degenerating into desperate feminine gasps. The expressions of untold intensity on her face bespoke an epic orgasm in the making, until finally--
Batgirl came with the ferocity of a freight train, her whole body writhing, her back sharply arched, breasts thrust upward and outward, her expression locked in a grimace of utter intensity, as her thighs crushed the doctor's fingers hard against her crotch. Barbara had been innocently aroused before the call for Harley came in. Dressing up in her Batgirl uniform always turned her on, and tonight had been no exception. Chasing Harley had meant that Barbara had had to delay the release her longings. Capturing Harley single-handedly had turned her on even more, and the doctor's various dosings of gas, darts, and chloroform had further whipped her into an absolute juggernaut of sexual frenzy. His unwanted petting had enflamed her even more. Now all of that played out as a 50 megaton orgasm detonated within the tiny confines of her young eager clitoris. Even in her dreamy drug-induced state, Batgirl was able to savor every streaming ray of shining burning pleasure that emanated gloriously from between her grateful thighs. For long glorious moments, she surfed the waves of blinding welcoming warming oozy-wet ecstasy. It felt sooooooooooooooooo goooooooooooooooooooood. As always, it seemed like a miracle that such a tiny organ as her clitoris could produce such epic, mythic, earth-shattering sensations, as her sexy, curvy, well-rounded, highly desirable body herked and jerked in spastic clumsy spasms of delicious uncontrollable bliss. What could be better? When the worst of it was over, a profound calm possessed her perfect spent body. Then her body suddenly twitched and jerked of its own volition, in the awkward after-spasms of post-climactic ecstasy. Her mound positively glowed with transcendent bliss. She was oh-so-satisfied in her radiant afterglow. . .
Slowly withdrawing his hands, the Doctor savored the sweet expressions of the post-orgasmic stupor on Batgirl's flushed face, as he slowly rolled the girl over onto her stomach. Now, with the others gone, he was free to do what he wanted with her. Groping her fabulous plump ass cheeks at length, he rapidly became excited, and began clutching stroking, pawing, patting, squeezing, and kissing her shapely bottom luridly and without restraint.
Her perfect plump ass, in that rubberized black suit, . . . It was all too much for him. Quickly climbing onto the gurney behind her, he whipped out his member, and settling it into the cleft of her rubberized bottom, began dry-humping her ass rapidly. What could be better? Feverishly, he groped and gazed at Batgirl's perfect posterior, and reached around to fondle her heavy breasts as his excitement rapidly grew. Moments later, long ropes of clearish-white jizz spurted forth, splattering gratuitously over the tempting curves of Batgirl's upturned rubberized flanks.
"PUMP--Pump--Pump--Pump! . . ."
"SPLURT!--Splort! . . . ooooze . . ."
"drip. . ."
It had been the most intense orgasm of the doctor's life as he spent himself copiously over the beckoning contours of Batgirl's shiny black splatter-covered ass. Meanwhile, the unknowing heroine made no motions to escape while obscene quantities of semen jetted helter-skelter across her flanks.
Now the oozy seed beautifully adorned the dozy-heroine's good-girl ass, slowly dripping in long graceful curves over the full round contours of her flanks, as both of them enjoyed their magnificent afterglow. It was perfect.
Now as the dozing Batgirl writhed in the slow thrusting squirming motions, Dr. Kink continued to pet her sopping wet rubberized ass, slowly smearing his semen all over her smooth round buttocks. Then he repeatedly smacked her jiggily-quivery ass with his semi-hard member, using his tool to further smear the seed all over the sexy curves of the sleeping role models ass. "How many boys and men in Gotham had dreamed of doing this?" the doctor wondered. But now, as the last of his load oozed out onto her rubberized flanks, the doctor reveled in the fact that he alone was actually doing it, actually having his way with the mythic BATGIRL.
After a long cuddle in which his member lay happily in the deep cleft of her ass, he quickly cleaned himself up. Then moving stealthfully, he locked Batgirl in her cell, and left her there.
When Batgirl came to, her vision was foggy, as was her memory. As she sat up on the gurney in cell AA-63, she slipped slightly. Then reaching back to see why, she found her bottom was covered with a strange slimy oozy clear substance.
In the merciful fog of her grogginess, Batgirl failed to reason out what the substance was, and instead assumed that leaky pipes were just part of life in Arkham.
Where was she, and what was going on? Looking around, she found herself in a dimly lit Arkham cell.
After a moment however, the evening's events came back to her: the capture of Harley, the drive to Arkham, meeting a new Doctor at Arkham, and finally . . . a completely unprovoked and unexpected attack by. . . Dr. Kink!
Thinking quickly, Batgirl reached up to activate the comm-unit built into her cowl to call for back up, but before she could even make contact, a spray of sleep gas, jetted from a nearby fixture on her gurney.
"FSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSST!!!!" barely out of her last drug-induced stupor, Batgirl had no resistance to the fast-acting gas, and slowly slumped back down on the gurney with a sexy sigh, "Unghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-hh. . . " her ample buttocks nicely compressed, her tempting thick thighs parted suggestively.
When Batgirl awoke next, she opened her eyes to find herself in the dreary confines of one of Arkham's more gloomy holding cells. As she attempted to move her hands and feet, she discovered herself to be tightly bound on her back on a gurney. Her wrists were cuffed behind her back, and her ankles were neatly pinned together, in a pose that emphasized the slenderness of her ankles, the width of her womanly hips, and the remarkable fullness of her shiny thighs which were tightly pressed together, nicely framing the tight triangle of her mound.
As she stirred, she discovered that she was not alone. Doctor Kinkaid was slowly approaching, his leering gaze devoured every curvaceous inch of the bound heroine. Batgirl struggled briefly in a futile show of resistance, not realizing that her pitiful wriggling and noises only made her seem all the more helpless and appealing to the fetish-motivated doctor. Worse yet, the struggling also excited Batgirl who was still suffering from heighted arousal levels due to her repeated dosings.
Flipping a switch on a nearby remote control, the doctor watched with an unhealthy leer as the elaborate motorized armature that Batgirl was bound to began to move and adjust. Dozens of servo-motors whined as the armature transformed, lifting and maneuvering Batgirl's magnificent body into an upright position with her arms outstretched, so that she was floating 3 feet off the ground, and leaning forward. It was only then that Batgirl recognized the contraption as the very same armature that the misguided Dr. Young had used during her Titan experiments to restrain the villain known as Bane. "If these restraints held Bane," Batgirl thought to herself, "then I don't suppose that there's any way that I could escape from them."
As she hung there is space before the Doctor, Batgirl wriggled and writhed slowly and sensuously.
"So you're Dr. Kink," Batgirl began. "Did you come up with that all by yourself?
"Actually, no," the Doctor responded. "It's a nickname that the inmates came up with for me. But it kind of works, doesn't it?"
Batgirl had no answer.
"So you're the mighty Batgirl," the Doctor mused aloud, smiling at her curvaceous body so handsomely on display. But bound as she was, Batgirl had never felt less "mighty" in her life.
"I never said I was mighty," Batgirl protested reflexively, still pulling on her bonds.
"Ah, but you did, Batgirl, . . . you did. Perhaps not in so many words, but you did nevertheless, through everything about you. You see, as a psychologist and psychiatrist, I am a master of observing and interpreting human behavior, especially the costumes that people wear. Every action, every decision you make tells me something about you. And your costume positively screams out your impressive 'mightiness,' as it screams about your sexuality."
"You're mad!" Batgirl snapped back.
"Perhaps, . . . still, I have to imagine that you'd be even more fun without all of this incessant struggling. Well, the doctor prescribes a quick sedative. "FSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSST!" Batgirl's eyes open wide for a moment as the doctor used high-pressure injecta-gun (similar to a hypo-spray) to inject her lovely ass with a heavy dose of fast-acting sedatives. A second later, Batgirl's wide-eyed expression dimmed and dulled to a hazy-lazy heavy-lidded stupor, that left her alert, but with decidedly less fight left in her.
"Much better, now, allow me to explain. First of all, you are obviously a young very beautiful fetching woman. But what do you do with that body? Do you cover it demurely, or do you celebrate it?
Well, for starters, you wear a tight grey and black outfit. Since it is dull in color and cover's most of your skin, you regard it as being modest, even conservative, but in truth, the form-fitting uniform is highly revealing. While it covers every inch of you with Victorian zeal, it covers every inch of you in skin-tight scintillating Lycra, rubber, and leather, suggestively showing off every sexy curve of your remarkable physique, including your magnificently developed thighs and buttocks, more fulsome and shapely than any I've ever known. Additionally, gray is the most form-descriptive color there is, so by wearing a gray form-fitting costume, you are clearly proclaiming that you want us to carefully observe every luscious curve and contour of your body. The sheen to the suit makes your uniform act as a 'super-skin,' . . . that is, an idealized shiny blemishless skin which again subconsciously draws our attention again to your mighty sexuality. Your utility belt, hung so low on the hips exaggerates and emphasizes the youthful feminine swell of your hips. The bat-emblem unmistakably draws attention back to your breasts, while the armor padding at the breasts exaggerates your cup size by at least 2 sizes. Your cape could have demurely covered your flanks, but wearing this "micro-cape" allows for easy viewing of your captivating buttocks. The thong, outlines and draws attention to the vulva in the front, while bisecting the buttocks in the rear, emphasizing their roundness, as well as the depth of the cleft, . . . all primitive but unmistakable sexual cues. The mask ads an air of mystery, while drawing attention to the eyes, and making them appear to be larger than they are. Your long lustrous red hair proclaims your femininity as well as your youth and fertility."
As the Doctor spoke, he conducted a thorough "examination" of Batgirl in which his hands methodically wandered all over the masked crime fighter's body, gently palming and squeezing, feeling and handling her . . . all over. While at first his actions seemed to be a legitimate attempt to assess her muscle tone and to search for hidden weapons, as the process went on, the "examination" became more "intimate" in nature, acting as little more than an excuse for the Doctor to get this hands all over her.
". . . Besides which, my dear, your costume combines cues from nearly every fetish I know of. You've got the mask fetish, the high black boot fetish, the Lycra, shiny vinyl and leather fetish, the thong fetish, and you come with your own cuffs and ropes, subconsciously telegraphing your desire to be restrained in bondage and publically pleasured sexually. Worse yet, you are a costumed "super-heroine," the very name alone sets you up as a "super-woman," presumable "superior" to other women. Superior physical prowess, superior mental prowess, superior moral prowess, the list goes on and on. . . Plus, you are a celebrity, which makes you both more desirable and also less attainable, and therefore more obsession-worthy. In all of these ways, my dear, without ever saying a word, I hope you can see now, that your costume does in fact proclaim your sexual allure, your prowess, and yes, even your 'might,' wherever you go. Do you now see what I mean?"
Batgirl was taken aback. She had never thought of herself or her uniform in any of the ways that the doctor had described, but in fairness, she could now see some insightful truth in what he was saying, and suddenly she became rather self-conscious of her appearance and attire.
"Oh, and one more thing, my dear. . . Don't ever change. It's your fetishistic appeal, paired with your girlish innocence that makes you so uniquely you, and so . . . utterly irresistible."
Flipping another switch on the remote, the doctor activated another series of servo-motors, and watched in fascination as the complex motorized metal armature moved Batgirl's ankles apart, with a high-pitched hydraulic whine. . . slowly spreading her luscious legs.
Now the Doctor's "examination" continued, as gently squeezing and caressing her inner thighs, her breasts, and then dwelling at great length on her magnificent defenseless buttocks. Exhausted by her multiple tranq injections, and seeing the futility of struggling, Batgirl hung limp and loose in the bindings, only writhing slowly as the doctor's hands studiously groped every curvaceous inch of her.
Finally the doctor spoke, breaking the silence. "Excellent! You seem to be in perfect health, my dear. I can now confirm that you are indeed fit for the experiments that are to follow."
"Experiments?!!!" Batgirl objected, her eyes wide with surprise and apprehension. "What are you talking about?"
"You are to be the main specimen in a series of experiments on human sexuality, my dear." And with that he brandished a large syringe in front of her eyes. Stepping behind her, he jabbed the needle into her buttock, and injected more tranquilizer.
Suddenly Batgirl's vision blurred, as the tranqs took effect. Her beautiful full eyelashes fluttered and then hung at half mast, as the drug began to get the better of her. She struggled to stay awake, but soon the darkness swallowed her up and she hung absolutely limp and helpless, beautiful and utterly vulnerable in her bindings.
When Batgirl awoke next, she found herself back in her cell.
She sat up quickly, and hopped off of the gurney. Thinking fast, Batgirl pressed the side of her cowl, to activate her comm system, and call in back-up.
"Batgirl to Batman, come in."
On the other side of Gotham, the one and only BATMAN, sat ensconced in his classic Batmobile with retro-style fins and a jet turbine never failed to make a lasting impression on whoever saw it. Batman had been hoping to use the highly attention-getting vehicle to draw the Penguin out of hiding, but so far, the strategy had not led to the results he was hoping for.
A moment later, the Batmobile's On-Star phone system began to speak. "You have an incoming call from, . . . Batgirl."
Touching a button, he answered the call.
"Batgirl to Batman, come in."
"Batman here, go ahead."
"Batman, I was over at Arkham dropping off Harley when, I . . . ran into some trouble."
Batman picked up the red bat-shaped phone handset in the Batmobile, and held it up to his cowl.
"Are you all right?" the normally dead-pan husky voice was colored with a tinge of genuine concern.
"I'm fine, . . . I think. I'm locked up in a cell, in the new building. The new warden and chief doctor at Arkham has gone nuts. His name is Dr. Kinkaid, . . . calls himself Dr. Kink. . . sounds like a real nut job."
"I'll call the police," the Batman was all business again.
"No! . . . Please don't," the Batgirl protested suddenly. "This guy is obsessed with some kind of sex theme. The last thing I need is to have my name connected with fetish themes in the nightly news. It's just one doctor, Batman. I'm sure we can handle him without getting my dad and the whole SWAT team involved."
"Right. I'm on my way, but I'm coming from the far side of town. It may take awhile."
"I'll manage. Batgirl out."
A half-second later, the Batman hung up the phone, powered up the Batmobile's turbine engine and rocket booster, and accelerated into the night.
Turning her attention back to her surroundings, Batgirl noticed her utility belt, lying at the foot of the gurney. Picking it up, she examined it. Empty. "Figures . . ." she grumbled to herself. Or was it? Examining it more closely, she noticed that the rear pouch still contained her cryptographic sequencer. Kink must've overlooked it.
"Bingo!" Batgirl exclaimed. Slipping the utility belt back on, around her slender waist and wide hips, she knelt down, and unfolded the cryptographic sequencer. Deftly working the controls, Batgirl sought to isolate the exact frequency of the signal that was used to open the look to her cell.
After just a few moments, she had it. CRACK-POP!!! The lock on the door blew, and the automated door opened.
Pleased with the first step of her escape, Batgirl knew better than to get cocky. Stepping quickly through the doorway out of her cell, she braced for action, only to see 3 of Dr. Kink's goons in the hallway. Detective mode confirmed no weapons, but even unarmed, they were still plenty dangerous.
"Hey, Lefty, look at this! The Bat-bitch got out of her cell somehow."
The second goon let out a sharp cat call, the classic "wert whirl" whistle, to let Batgirl know just how hot he thought she was. The other leering goons seemed to feel just the same way as they all gathered ominously around her.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Gotham's favorite little Bat-slut," Lefty began. "You're not lookin' too bad, baby! When we get you behind bars again, the Doc's gonna be mighty grateful. He might even let us go a few rounds with you. Come to think of it, why ask permission? I'll do you right now, myself."
As Lefty prattled on, Batgirl assessed her opponent's strengths and vulnerabilities, and prepared to launch into an advanced combination attack.
"Y'know the first thing I'm gonna do to you, Batichica?" Lefty continued, "I'm gonna fold you over my knee and give that hot little Bat-ass a good spankin' cause--" but he never finished that sentence. CRACK! UNGFFF!! WHAP!!!" Batgirl sprang into action like a being that was part cat/part ninja. Down they went, one, two, three! In seconds it was all over. The last one, Lefty, seemed to go down, . . . almost in slow motion.
All those years of martial arts training with the Batman had certainly paid off. Pleased with her handiwork, Batgirl took a moment to crack her knuckles, before moving on down the hallway.
At the end of the hall, she turned to a nurses station, and saw a young nurse tightly bound and gagged in an office chair. A medical bandage had been used as an impromptu tape gag. The nurse was wriggling and "Mmmphing" energetically as she looked with desperate pleading eyes toward Batgirl.
The door to the Nurses' Station was locked, and the Plexiglas window was too heavy to easily break. Spotting a nearby ventilation grate, Batgirl muscled the grate open and climbed in. Climbing up over and around, her nimble figure moved easily through the tight confined space. As she slid down an inclined section of ductwork, she spotted a large green metal trophy, shaped like a question mark.
"Why the hell does he leave these all over the place?" Batgirl asked herself, as she looked at the Riddler's marker.
Then, as she picked it up, a hissy pre-recorded voice blared from the trophy, "Oh, this was an easy one to find, Batgirl! . . ." Batgirl recognized the voice as that of the Riddler himself. "Find the next one, and you'll have a real treat." Aside from the Riddler's annoying challenge, Batgirl realized that the clue opened a bigger issue. Dr. Kink was including some of Arkham's most notorious inmates in his scheme. Already, he'd admitted that Poison Ivy had helped him develop his arousal/aphrodisiac drug. And now the Riddler was allowed to plant his annoying trophies all over the Kinkaid Center. Just how many of them were involved, and what was their role in all of this?
Moving on, Batgirl soon found her way through the vents and into the Nurses' Station. Kicking out the grate with her dainty but heavily armored little Bat-boot, she dropped lightly to the floor.
Rushing forward toward the bound nurse, Batgirl gently peeled the gag away from the young woman's mouth, to allow her to speak, and then got to work on her bindings.
The nurse was young and well-built. She was dressed in a white, close-fitting top which barely concealed her more-than-ample "endowment," and the low cut in the front nicely framed her generous cleavage. She wore a very short white skirt, and shiny white high-heeled shoes. The nametag on her top read, "Nurse Shackle."
"Oh, thank-you, Batgirl!--" the nurse gasped, clearly exasperated by her plight, and grateful to be able to breathe more comfortably now. "Doctor Kinkaid's gone mad! He chloroformed me, and tied me up!"
"I can see that," Batgirl responded flatly as freed the nurses arms, and knelt down to untie her slender ankles. From that vantage point, Batgirl couldn't help but notice the nurses fit shapely legs.
"Before I passed out, he said he was gonna take the rest of the nurses into the next room. I don't know what he was gonna do to 'em!"
Freeing the nurse's shapely dancer's legs, Batgirl sprang toward the next room, where the nurses were supposed to have been taken, with Nurse Shackle close behind her. When she got there, Batgirl saw a large open area, with a gaggle of at least 13 nurses held inside. The door was sealed with a high-tech containment forcefield, supplied by Waynetech Industries.
"Give me your security card," Batgirl commanded. Swiping the card, she lowered the energy shield, and entered.
"Are you women all right?" Batgirl asked the nurses. "Do you have any idea of where the doctor went, or what he intends to do?"
"Oh, we know just what he intends to do," replied Nurse Shackle, in a strangely ominous tone. " Nebuchadnezzar!" she said to the captive nurses, and instantly the expression on the RN's faces transformed from that of concerned captives, to an expression of strange malevolence. Now Nurse Shackle continued, "GET HER, GIRLS!"
An instant later, all 13 of the nurses grabbed Batgirl by the arms, legs, . . . anywhere they could grab onto her, instantly immobilizing her. Batgirl tried various throws and other martial arts techniques, but there were just too many of them.
"RRrrrrr-Mpphh-Hunnn-hh!" Batgirl struggled mightily at first, then sighed as she gave in to the futility of her plight.
"Now, hold her!" Nurse Shackle commanded, as she playfully brandished a scary looking hypodermic needle, filled with a strange green clear liquid.
"Hrrmmpphhh!" Batgirl struggled again.
"Now don't you worry, your pretty little cowl, Batgirl. It's just time for you to get your shot." Quickly scanning Batgirl's close-fitting suit, she was having a hard time trying to determine where she could find a place that wasn't armored.
"Turn her around!" the nurse yelled coarsely.
Batgirl cursed herself. She should have noticed that the nurse's mini-skirt and high heeled shoes belonged more on a fetish model than on a real nurse, but in the rush to come to the rescue, she'd overlooked that clue.
Now stepping up behind Batgirl, Nurse Shackle could see that the heroine's shapely posterior was utterly unprotected. Grinning widely, she lowered the needle and. . .
Batgirl surged briefly against her captors as the sharp needle struck home. Then her mouth hung open as the fluid was slowly, . . . surely. . . injected into her left buttock.
"Now that ought to take the fight out of you, sweet cheeks!" And indeed Batgirl did calm down as she resigned herself to the inevitability of another period of drowsiness. As the other nurses turned Batgirl around again to face the head nurse, she spoke, "My name's Nurse Shackle, and I'm the head nurse around here. I'm also Dr. Kink's right hand gal, see? And he's got plenty in store for you. But first, I get to have a little fun with you.
For a moment, Batgirl imagined a suggestive scene, a 4 hour long girl-on-girl orgy with all 14 nurses, but after a moment, she saw one of the nurses handing out stun batons to all of her colleagues.
"Do you know what this?" Nurse Shackle asked, holding up a large metallic club, which was about 22 inches long.
"Y-yes," Batgirl replied hesitantly. "It's a stun-baton. It delivers and electric shock. It's used by prison guards at Arkham to subdue violent inmates."
"Very good, . . . but you're not quite right," said Dr. Kink as his face appeared on a nearby wall-mounted flat-screen video monitor. "You see, this was originally a stun baton, but I've had it modified, to serve a more gentile, . . . civilized purpose."
Batgirl was all ears.
"By adjusting the amp and volt output of this device, I've been able to create a device which delivers very low power electrical stimulation. It causes no pain or tazering effects. Instead it is designed to deliver micro-impulses directly into the neuro-pathways of your body, directly stimulating intense sensations of pleasure in the body and the mind. To you it will feel much like a vibrator, but much more intense. Perhaps a demonstration is in order, ladies. Nurse Shackle, set the stun baton to the lowest possible setting. . ."
Twisting the power knob several clicks to the lowest setting, Nurse Shackle placing the tip of the device gently between Batgirl's legs, against her soft pretty mound, then she turned the device on.
Instantly, Batgirl reacted by lifting and extending her head. Her jaw went slack, and her eyelids lowered to half-staff. It was clear that the device was having a profound effect on her. Again, she struggled to get away, but she was hopelessly outnumbered and overpowered.
By working the head of the baton around to the left and the right of her mound, Nurse Shackle was able to create a variety of effects, . . .all of them good. Soon Batgirl's pelvis began to flex and shift. Was she thrusting into the baton, or trying to wriggle away from it? The only clue to knowing for sure came from the look of erotic stupor on her face.
Still, the nurse was not satisfied, so she worked the baton around her entire sopping wet mound, lingering for long stretches with the baton positioned directly where her clitoris was.
"Well, that will be enough of that," Dr. Kink said crisply, casually denying Batgirl of the conclusion which she secretly craved. "And that, my dear Batgirl, was at the lowest power setting. You may carry on with the experiment, Nurse Shackle." And with that, the monitor blinked out, returning to a rotating image of the Arkham logo.
"Thank you, Doctor," the Nurse cooed seductively. "The Doc want us to give ya a real demonstration, of the stun batons, at some of the . . . higher settings."
Setting her baton to a much higher power level, Nurse Shackle jabbed Batgirl in the ribs with the baton.
"DZZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZZAP!!" The micro burst of energy tingled through her body, but left a strangely smoldering sensation lingering between Batgirl's legs.
"See, it don't matter if'n I zap you in the arm . . . "DZZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZZAP!!"
"Or the waist . . . . "DZZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZZAP!!"
"Or the thigh . . . "DZZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZZAP!!"
She was right, it all felt good, but that last zap, the one on her thigh, had felt quite a bit better than the others. For a moment, it occurred to Batgirl that the women holding her must be feeling something from the shocks as well, but the smoldering expressions on their faces suggested that they didn't mind it in the least.
"Do her, girls!" Nurse Shackle commanded. Now while two of the nurses held Batgirl, the rest of them began zapping her all over with the pleasure batons.
"DZZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZZAP!! DZZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZZAP!! DZZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZZAP!! DZZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZZAP!!"
Several of the nurses seemed to prefer zapping Batgirl in the breasts, close to her nipples, causing a particularly striking effect, while others preferred zapping her in the thighs, and buttocks.
Suddenly one nurse wedged a baton right into the cleft between Batgirl's buttocks. The effect caused Batgirl to close her eyes as her mouth hung in a suggestively slack-jawed expression. It felt sooooooooo good. The other nurses watched luridly as the telling expressions on Batgirl's face revealed just how much she was enjoying herself. Suddenly, all the batons were removed, leaving the sexy Batgirl hanging limp in the arms of her captors.
"Now, Batgirl, . . . " Nurse Shackle continued, "there's only one way this scene ends. . ."
Now, Nurse Shackle dramatically set her baton to the highest setting, then moved her baton slowly, inexorably toward Batgirl, gradually lowering it from her face to her breasts, past her abs, and finally, . . .
The baton was now mere inches away from Batgirl's defenseless mound. Nurse Shackle paused dramatically, as Batgirl, and all the nurses savored the anticipation. Batgirl had used a vibrator before, but never anything like this, for an adrenaline-filled moment she pondered what could feel better than a vibrator orgasm.
Then it happened. The smooth round metal tip of the baton touched Batgirl's waiting pouting mound, and Nurse Shackle squeezed the control trigger to maximum output."
Batgirl wriggled and pulled against her captor's grip as the diabolical baton discharged into her mound. The nurses holding her struggled to keep control of her, and barely managed to keep their grip, as they watched the masked filly rapidly ascend through the various levels of arousal. But for all her struggling, her legs remained . . . widely parted. Her eyelids hung at half-mast, her mouth hung slack-jawed, her eyes glazed over, as the intoxicating sensations invaded her tiny defenseless clitoris. Now Batgirl's hips wriggled tellingly as she seemed to thrust back against the baton. Nurse Shackle refused to remove the device.
"Is that the right spot?" Nurse Shackle asked teasingly.
"Unngh-hnnnghh" Batgirl grunted incoherently, but it was evident that her intended answer was, "Yes."
It was right on her clit. Right where she wanted it. It was pressing hard on her mound and clitoris, so that a constant stream of indescribably pleasure was bombarding her most sensitive nerve cluster. Batgirl's breathing was reduced to a series of adorable 0desperate fluttering breathy gasps. . . It was like the world's best vibrator, only better, . . .MUCH better.
Now the sensations were building toward a head, and Batgirl's body seemed to freeze, her glazed eyes locked on a distant unseen object as the constant flood of sensations into the center of her clitoris and mound drove her toward an obvious but nevertheless inexorable conclusion. It was like a thousand vibrators at once, all into that one tiny little fortunate spot.
Batgirl's mind, (and the minds of all those nurses) were fixed on only one thing. That tiny little spot between Batgirl's legs and all of that pleasure that was flooding into it. Sooooooo . . . goooooood.
And then it happened. She slipped over the edge.
As amazing as all those sensations had been, what replaced them was ten trillion times more powerful. Batgirl's eyes began to cross, and then roll up into her head. The orgasm of a lifetime detonated within the tight confines of Batgirl's little mound, deep inside her panties, framed sweetly between her full thighs, wiping away all coherent thought, as if a lightning bolt had struck, as if heaven itself had opened the floodgates of pure abject uncontrollable ecstasy.
Batgirl's lithe body bucked and jerked, in the throes of abject crotch-warping rapture, as her groin opened up the floodgates of warm wet heavenly climax.
The nurses looked on with knowing approval, as Gotham's greatest role model of virtue succumbed to nature's most appreciated gift. . .
For long moments her face contorted in ungainly the throes of climactic orgasm, as heaven-sent pleasure raged uncontrollably between her legs. Nothing had ever been better. Nothing ever would. Her head jerked back and snapped from side to side. Her back arched, and her hips thrust, as the searing relentless climax became the center of her universe. . .
Then at long last, when the worst of the storm had passed, her sexy body hung like a spent rag-doll in their arms. She was worthless, . . . ruined. She had nothing left to give. For her, there was only afterglow. Only then did Nurse Shackle release the trigger and stop the merciless torrent of pleasure. But even when that was done, she did not withdraw the baton. Instead, she used it to nudge and caress the soft squishy pad of Batgirl's mound, driving out a few more gratuitous after-spasms from the grateful but weary heroine, much to the approval of the onlooking nurses. Now all that was left was the warm glow in the grateful triangle between Batgirl's legs. Nothing else mattered.
Now the nurses that held her arms were the only thing keeping Batgirl's limp body upright. Approaching the limp sexually spent heroine, Nurse Shackle, lifted Batgirl's chin, and slowly kissed the girl. It was a long, . . . slow , . . . deep, . . . French kiss.
Batgirl wanted to resist, but she had no strength, so she reluctantly submitted and enjoyed the Sapphic moment.
Finally breaking off the kiss, Nurse Shackle stepped away leaving a long stretching string of gooey saliva between them.
"Put her down!" Shackle demanded.
Lowering Batgirl to the floor, the nurses gathered around her, looking down on her.
Looking up through bleary eyes, Batgirl saw her crouching over her.
"I thought she'd last longer!" one nurse commented disapprovingly.
"I didn't," replied Nurse Shackle smugly. That stun baton was set to maximum. She never stood a chance.
Then the nurses, who were clearly turned on by Batgirl's "little death," began petting her and stroking each other affectionately. Pairing off, they began touching and undressing each other, as the room degenerated into a nurse-on-nurse orgy all around Batgirl. Fortunately, the horny nurses left the spent Batgirl out of their recreational session, as Batgirl passed out, still basking in the guilty throes of her afterglow.
Tall and lean, in her oh-so-flattering Bat-costume, she stood with her curvaceous hour-glass figure in a dull gray featureless room somewhere within the Kinkaid center. With her soft shiny red tresses, short scalloped mini-cape, curve-hugging gray uniform, and pointy-eared cowl, she could only be . . . the one and only. . . BATGIRL.
From within her black rubber cowl with the tall pointed ears, alert blue eyes peered out, carefully surveyed the new surroundings. The unremarkable room contained a large desk, a ordinary wooden chair, an unremarkable bed, and one locked door.
With her shiny tresses of her gently flowing red hair gracefully cascading down over her shoulders, she carefully surveyed the lock which kept her trapped within the room. Studying the simple but vexing lock, she took a deep breath, flexing and distorting the Bat-emblem which was stretched so crazily over the voluptuous curves of her ample heaving bosom.
Leaning down to examine the lock more closely, Batgirl inadvertently stuck out her distractingly plump gymnast's derrière, in a way that she might not have done, if only she'd known . . . that she was not alone.
Emerging silently from the shadows behind her, crept a tall slender male figure, in a gray inmate jumpsuit.
The rag was quickly clamped over her face with steady practiced hand, as he seized the young woman in his vice-like grip. Batgirl's crystal clear icy blue eyes opened with wide-eyed innocent surprise, as the rag clamped securely over her dainty little nose and pretty feminine lips, effectively muffling her desperate cries.
Apparently caught completely off guard, Batgirl's response to the stealthy attack was surprisingly ineffective. Perhaps as a result of her numerous dosings of tranquilizers, arousal drugs, . . . and yet more tranquilizers, her usually keen Bat-reflexes were understandably "off their game." Stumbling backwards and off-balance on her tall, slender high-heeled boots, Batgirl's shapely tapered legs wriggled nicely as she tried to regain her balance. But off balance as she was, her only response to the attack was a wide-eyed look of coquettish fear and a fetching stream of helpless girlish whimpers, as she wriggled her shiny womanly hips and rump against her assailant's pelvis, while flapping her arms uselessly.
"Mmmmpphh!! - Mpmhh-mmmMMMMmmphh!!" she whimpered in high-pitched tones of desperation.
But if Batgirl's response was uncharacteristically ineffective, her assailant's actions . . . were not. He wasted no time in "possessing" her. Planting his hips firmly against her well-rounded ass, the pale-skinned attacker, firmly pressed his male credentials deep into the shiny sexy cleft of Batgirl's plump beckoning rump, nuzzling her deeply while his hands rudely sampled her buoyant squeezable tits, . . . at length.
"Mmmmpphh!! - Mpmhh-mmmMMMMmmphh!! Mmmmpphh!! - Mpmhh-mmmMMMMmmphh!!" her protests continued, as he ground his stiffening manhood deeper and deeper into her plump irresistible ass. "God, she feels great," thought the inmate, as he savored the sensations of her ever weakening body rubbing all over him. It had been too long since he'd had a woman. I wouldn't be much longer now.
Batgirl's Bat-emblem, proudly emblazoned across the mountainous hillocks of her breasts, offered no protection as the inmate's pale white fingers eagerly mauled her forbidden fruit.
But now the admirable young heroine's once-fiery protests grew gradually weaker. Her flailing arms slowed. Her pretty eyes began to roll up into her head. Now the inmate's strange red lips stretched wide into a gruesome smile as Gotham's bastion of purity and feminine virtue grew limp and defenseless in his lecherous arms.
No longer did he need to fight against her. Now he could easily, . . . even casually, grope her heavy titan breasts, bouncing them and lolling them casually in his bleach-white hands. If only the Batman could see what was happening here. . .
Now the girl's whole body sagged in the telltale sign of total sexual submission. Now the 22 year old crime-fighter sexpot hung helpless and defenseless in the arms of a certifiable lunatic. He savored her total vulnerability for a moment, then lowered her sleek tempting body onto the desk.
"My, my, my, YOU certainly are lovely!" he jeered. For several minutes he groped her most intimate areas with blithe abandon. He had waited too long for this. Now her shiny womanly assets were his to explore and possess, greedily, lustily, . . . and without care. After a few moments, he began peeling the expensive costume off of her body. It was time for the Joker to unwrap his gift. . .
It was a shocking scene. Batgirl was folded over the large desk, her wrists tied tightly together behind her back.
The bindings left Batgirl jackknifed over the desk with her legs spread wide, her naked breasts crushed temptingly beneath her, and her rather ample bottom invitingly on display. The gray costume was mostly gone, leaving her dressed only in her cowl, gloves, boots, micro-cape, and the tiniest little shiny blue-black thong. To call it "skimpy" would not really do it justice.
But Batgirl was not alone. Somewhere behind her, the one and only Clown Prince of Crime, . . . the Joker, was crouched down, giggling fiendishly, as he finished buckling the last of several shiny black leather straps that bound the sexy young heroine's slender high-heeled boots (at the ankles) to the feet of the desk. The multiple black straps were excessive perhaps, but they added greatly to the fetishistic quality of the scene, and they added just the right detail for the Joker’s leering lust-filled lunatic eyes.
Batgirl, such as she was, was wide awake, but she had nothing to say, thanks to several layers of silvery duct tape which had been lovingly stretched tightly over her sweet little mouth.
The cumulative effect of the bindings and gag, was a bondage lover's dream: America's sexiest super heroine, stripped down to almost nothing, neatly trussed up, bound, gagged, and quite suggestively posed, "mmmphing" helplessly, into her gag. What could be better?
“Mmmm-mMMMphh! Mmmmm-mmmm-mmmmppphhhhh!!!” the wide-eyed Batgirl protested strenuously through her gag. Now, as she glanced back over her shoulder with wide desperate eyes, the Joker gloated menacingly over his struggling sexy prize.
“Now there’s something you don’t see every day, . . . Grade-A Bat-ass. Hoo-hoo-hoo! Leaning in, he rapidly patted her nearest buttock with both hands like a set of bongo drums, causing the deliciously voluptuous fleshy forms to quiver and quake suggestively. “Oooooooooooooooooooo-Wheee!” he yelled in amazement at the sight of her irresistibly tempting upturned, thonged ass.
He could stand there forever, taking in the scene of her gloriously plump and available ass. Only that sinfully brief thong afforded her even the slightest protection. Laying his hands on her virgin hips, he squeezed and sampled them shamelessly, savoring the innocent virgin feel of them with every fiber of his evil insane self, as she weakly Mmmphed her muffled protest. He savored her helplessness for a moment more, then glancing at the clock, he continued, “Well, time's a wastin'! Hee-hee-heee!”
Then he promptly proceeded to sidle up behind the curvy fettered heroine, . . . and unbuckled his pants.
“Hee-hee-hee! I’ve always wanted to do this!" he said aloud. "I was always just too afraid of what Batsy would do to me, if I did,” he said, as the Clown Prince of Crime whipped out his veiny ghost-white member.
"Now don't struggle too much, Batgirl. A little struggling is good, but don't overdo it! Heh-heh! Oh don't worry, Batsy, that chloroform dose I gave you earlier had a little extra something. Think of it as a little "Lady Viagra" it'll jump start your sex drive, lickety split."
"mMMMmmphhhh-hh!!!" the trussed up Batgirl exclaimed weakly. Her wide-eyed innocence contrasted sharply with the eye-popping scene of her scantily-clad bondage scenario.
Now, the Joker easily pulled the girl’s tiny thong to one side, and stepping forward, he slowly guided himself past her nether-lips and into her warm wet welcoming core. Now all the Joker’s joking stopped as he slowly urged himself deeper, . . . and deeper, . . . and deeper into the girl’s tight, . . .soft, . . slick, . . . warm . . . welcoming grip. His eyes lost all focus, his face was slack-jawed, and his eye-lids drooping at half mast, as she enveloped him. The incredible sensations of their joining were clearly getting the better of him.
Finally, his pale white hips pressed up against the full supple tan flanks of his captive heroine. She was so young, . . . so fit. Nothing had ever felt so divine, the Joker thought to himself, as he nestled himself up against her perfect pale wide womanly ass. And nothing ever would, ever again, he mused as he ground his hips up against her perfectly soft pale Bat-ass. For long glorious moments he just stood there, grinding his hips against her fleshy ass, deeply impaling America’s most innocent and beloved heroine, wallowing in the pure ecstasy of her pale quivery flanks, as he plumbed her wet depths.
Now each thrust was deeper and more pleasurable than the last, The Joker impaled her perfect presumably virgin ass again and again as her buttocks quaked and trembled delightfully with each ferocious impact. Now the Joker's expression betrayed how close he was coming and the dreamy-eyed longing on Batgirl' s face was no less pronounced.
For her part, Batgirl had long since ceased her protests, and now a hazy, heavy-lidded expression of arousal clouded her gaze. She was clearly enjoying his penetration, and moaned slowly through her gag in erotic acquiescence.
Now the Joker began to pick up his tempo, thrusting and slapping his hips against her ass in rapid staccato jabs, that made the young girl’s ass quiver wildly. The inimitable sound of flesh slapping flesh excited both of them. As the pace raced toward a fever pitch, the innocent young heroine’s back suddenly arched sharply, and for a moment she froze, as every fiber of her being tensed in the throes of a fearsome mind-warping Bat-orgasm. A lightning bolt of pleasure shot from her clit to her brain, then like a cracked egg, the warm wet wonderful sensations slowly oozed outward all over her svelte perky body, right to the tips of her toes.
The Joker stopped his assault long enough to enjoy the view of Batgirl enduring her vicious orgasm, then when her body sagged in the defeat of afterglow, he resumed his pounding of her ass, until just a few moments later, his body too, seized sharply, and he pumped his all into the heroine’s tender quivery body. His eyes crossed as the other-worldly pleasures got the better of him, draining all the strength from his body. Then, incapable of any coherent thought, he slowly pulled out of her, and wiped his oozy tool across the magnificent curves of her drippy semen-covered ass. . .
When it was all over, he collapsed on her back, as the two of them indulged in life’s simplest pleasure.
After a long moment of mutual bliss, Batgirl spoke up, “Mmmmm-mMMphh!”
As if in response, the Joker pulled himself up and stumbled around to Batgirl's head. He slowly peeled the duct tape off of her pretty lips, but before she could speak, he replaced her tape-gag with a gag of an entirely different sort, shoving his cock in her mouth.
"Obl-mMmph!" she blurted as he shoved his oozy wet member past her virgin lips and into her mouth. It was glorious to look down and see America's darling crimefighter, a girl whose face adorned countless lunchboxes, t-shirts, and greeting cards wrapping her lips around his nasty obscenity.
Understanding what is expected of her, Batgirl slowly begins licking him, suckling him, cleaning his dick with her warm wet tongue, cheeks, and innocent tender lips.
Deliciously moist wet noises propagated from the Batgirl's stuffed mouth, as she did her best to pleasure the certifiable criminal mastermind. The Joker grinned a wider-than-ever grin as he blissfully indulged in life's simplest pleasure, having a superheroine suck your cock.
"Finally," he thought to himself as she suckled him, "there will be no more snappy super-hero comebacks out of that mouth of yours. Today, I fill it with something else. . . "
Suddenly the Joker was inspired to an uncharacteristic "second round" as his member rapidly stiffened with newfound vigor. "Ooooh! A twofer!" he exclaimed.
Now placing his hand on the back of her black rubber cowl, he steadied her, as he pumped vigorously in and out of her virginal face. "Oh-hh H-hh!" he gasped, as he stiffed her repeatedly.
At last, her moist mouth was too much for him, and he spilled his evil seed in her mouth.
It felt, . . . glorious, unparalleled.
Not wanting to waste a rare opportunity, the Joker quickly pulled out, as he continued to spew out large quantities of his own gooey semen, now splattering generous quantities of his contents all over her pretty cowled face.
Now, the pretty bastion of justice was utterly besmirched in dripping oozy ropes of slimy dripping semen. Some of it was spattered on her nose, her forehead and eye, and her pretty mouth, dripping right down to her chin, while one gooey rope still stretched from her mouth, to the tip of his grateful happy member.
The Joker grinned lazily in response, well-satisfied with his own performance, as he smeared his stark white spongy head, and sloppy wet veiny member all over "Batgirl's" delicate feminine features, besmirching her even further.
Finally finding herself "un-gagged," Batgirl spoke. “Golly, puddin’!” she said in an abruptly raw Brooklyn accent. “You sure went at it hard that time! This must be your favorite fantasy yet, huh?” the pinioned heroine went on.
“Oh, not really,” he responded, a little surprised that he was even able to speak. “Batgirl, Supergirl, Wonder Woman, they’re all good for me, and . . . who’s that magic-chick?”
“Y’mean Zatanna?” Harley responded, from inside her Batgirl costume.
“That’s the one! She's good too,” the Joker replied hazily, grinning at the thought of those fishnet stockings, as he smeared the last of his semen all over Batgirl/Harley's pretty ooze-covered face, and began to buckle himself up again.
“Woweee! I guess I must do a pretty good job dressin’ up like all o’ them dames in these conjugal sessions, huh!”
“Yeah, . . .” the Joker agreed begrudgingly, then under his breath he muttered, “until you open your big mouth. . .”
“Imagine if I’d been the REAL Batgirl. . .” she went on, excitedly.
“No, Harley-girl,” the Joker interrupted, as he began to unbuckle her ankles, “I’m sure I couldn’t even get it up for the real Batgirl.”
“Geeze, why not, Puddin?” asked Harley, a little relieved that she could please him in a way that the real Batgirl never could.
The Joker shivered. “Just the thought of what the Batsy would do to me . . .” He couldn’t go on. He got queasy at the thought of it. No, he was happy to "do" Harley in any of the wide variety of heroine costumes they’d collected over the years, . . . .especially those teeny tiny shiny blue Supergirl nano-skirts, . . . GRRRRRRR. . . . but the prospect of doing it with the real heroines was in fact a definite turn-off for him.
These wonderful little conjugal visits, were among the very few bright spots in the Joker’s days as he was locked away in Arkham Asylum. He had no idea that Harley was, even at that moment, working with Dr. Kink on a fiendish scheme right there within the walls of Arkham.
Now as he finished untying Harley, she rose up off the desk, and pulled off her Batgirl cowl. “Well, that was great! I guess I gotta be goin’. Time’s almost up. What’ll it be next time? . . . Wonder Woman?”
“Surprise me,” the Joker said lazily, not really caring. (They really were all great.) So, tell me, Harl, do you have any good schemes goin’ on the outside?”
“Naaaaa, Batgirl just nabbed me again. I guess I'm back on the inside for awhile."
“Riiiiiight,” the Joker responded. Now Harley threw on an overcoat, to cover her costume, and began knocking on the door, waiting for the guards to come and let her out.
"Now I guess I gotta go talk to that Dr. Kinky Kinkaid again," said Harley. "He always wants to know how our sessions went."
"Whatever," replied the Joker.
As she knocked on the steel door which secured conjugal relations cell #12, she waited patiently while 7 heavy gage locks were unfastened, and the heavy door was swung open. Four burly guards then entered, and fastened heavy manacles in the Joker's wrists and ankles as he was led back to his maximum security cell in chains.
When he and the escort guards were gone, Harley was joined by Dr. Kinkaid.
"Did you get all of that, doc?"
"Yes, it's fascinating. The Joker is intensely aroused by the idea of Batgirl, but utterly turned off by the real thing. A complicated man."
"I'll say. So what's next, doc?"
"Next?" The doctor replied.
"Y'know. Next, . . . for the REAL Batgirl.
The doctor thought for a moment. "Next, will welcome an honored guest, . . . the Batman."
Experiment #4: Sunburst
After the nightmarish encounter with the nurses, Batgirl awoke in yet another cell, somewhere in Arkham. This cell seemed older that the others. Its high ceilings, and looming gargoyles overhead bespoke an older era. Perhaps she had been transported to another building within Arkham, or perhaps this room just harkened back to an older era. A quick examination of the room revealed a ventilation grate located high overhead, but without her Bat-gear, there would be no way to reach it. A quick check of her utility belt revealed that she still had her cryptographic sequencer, but the door was locked with a mechanical lock only. There were no electronics to hack. With no lock-picking gear, and the likelihood that escape would only lead to yet another erotically inspired trap, Batgirl decided to stay in her cell and wait for the Batman to arrive.
The only problem was that there was nothing to do. Nothing.
Batgirl paced impatiently, for a few moments. She tried analyzing the case, but she was too hyped up on arousal medications to think clearly.
What she needed was to clear her mind. . .
It had been a long night for Batgirl. What had started as a routine collar, had ended up anything but. Now, alone in the privacy of her own cell, there was no Harley, no Dr. Kinkaid, no Nurse Shackle, no Riddler, and no Batman. It was just Batgirl.
Ironically, Batgirl thought to herself, the evening had actually begun as a rather dull uneventful night at the Batcave. Batman was out on patrol. Once Alfred had gone to bed, Batgirl had been all alone in the cave. A rather randy Barbara had hoped to sneak in a little session of masturbation before Batman returned from his patrol. But Harley's escape had changed all of that. After a night that had started with an intense need for a sexual release, the last thing that Batgirl had needed was to be repeatedly injected with sexual stimulants. Now she was positively bursting with the need for a release.
Popping open her cryptographic sequencer, Batgirl quickly worked the controls to see if there were any active surveillance systems at work in the room. A thorough scan thankfully confirmed that there was no electronic activity in the room.
With that peace of mind, Batgirl eventually made herself comfortable, sitting on her bed, her back against the wall, adjusting her sexy thong, as she did so.
She tried to relax, and think of soothing thoughts, . . . soothing, . . . sexy thoughts.
She closed her eyes, and got in touch with her body, slowly stroking her sensitive thighs, and gently cupping her breasts in her hands.
Then slowly, furtively, she reached her hand downward, between her legs, to that area that craved so desperately to be touched. She stroked it gently at first, exhaling as the tensions of that strange night slowly receded. Then more firmly, as she gave her tender mound the attention that it needed.
Her breathing became deeper, as she sensuously licked her lips. She knew what she needed.
At last her tapered fingers slipped inside the front of her thong, and touched her mound, . . . directly.
"Mmmmmmmnnnnnggghhhhhhhh. . ." she moaned.
Soon her fingers grew more daring and slipped slyly into her moist slit.
She stroked her nether lips gently, as her bud began to pay closer attention.
This is what she needed.
Swishing her fingers up and down, within her moistening slit, she began to describe a slow elliptical path, that slid down into her moistening sex, and then looped up past her needy nub, in light experimental laps. With time, she dug deeper, into the slick moistening path, which grew wetter and wetter with each lap. Now her love-bud was standing at attention. It wanted more.
Gradually, her pace quickened, and the busy fingers began to making little wet sounds as they went about their lovely task. Batgirl used her free hand to stroke her own soft bottom. It too longed to be touched, squeezed, held, . . . loved.
The little wet sounds grew quicker and more urgent, as the feelings around her nub intensified. Batgirl leaned back, and her legs spread, as an expression of cloudy-headed sexual stupor swept over her face. Her eyes closed gently, her mouth hung open. . .
She was a million miles away, and nothing else mattered, only the growing flame of desire that she was nurturing between her pretty thighs.
Now she stroked the clit directly, so wet and slick and needy. It needed more. It DEMANDED more. Her eyebrows pointed up in the middle, an expression of intense vulnerability, as her gasping breaths quickened, her mouth hanging slack-jawed. It felt sooooooooo good now.
She mewed a series of pitiful little whimpers.
Legs spread. . . , fingers furiously stroking away at her tiny little love-bud, . . . she wasn't looking like much of a role-model at the moment, . . . but everyone has needs.
Occasionally the busy fingers in the wet trench caused the pleasure to suddenly spike, drawing her perilously near to a full heady orgasm. Batgirl dare not climax, . . . not yet. . .not yet! She wanted this to last. She skillfully skated up to the edge again and again. Teasing right at the very edge, as her groin oozed in eager anticipation, but she dare not cum. . . not yet. She was sooooooooo clooooooooose. Once she went right over the edge, so that she thought she would cum, but at the last second, she pulled back, barely escaping. Her body wanted to cum sooooooo bad, but she wouldn't let it. For a moment, she thought of unsexy thoughts, to back herself away from the edge. But as soon as she brought herself down from a boil, she stoked herself back up again.
This was how she'd always done it. For an instant, she recalled her time as a librarian at college, when she'd worn those sinfully snug plaid skirts to tease the boys who were trying to study. But the sight of her full churning buttocks in that oh-too-tight skirt had driven them utterly to distraction. She pretended not to notice them as she walked back and forth, returning books to the shelves, with just a little more "wiggle" than was absolutely necessary, just to have some fun with them. Then, after they had gone, she would excuse herself to the private librarian's restroom, and run her hands all over her own body, the way she wanted to be touched, the way she was touching herself now. Then she would touch herself, and fan the flames of her desire right to the very edge, flirting at the very precipice, savoring the sensations her tiny little triangle could create. Oh, how she loved those delicious feelings right at the edge. Sometimes the feelings had made her gasp out loud, so that she could only hope the other older librarians didn't hear her. But while Barbara never knew it, . . . they did hear. Some librarians even liked to listen to her little gasps and squeals, as Barbara played with herself in the librarian's restroom, gently coaxing herself to a well-deserved release. Always she would tease herself at the edge, before the poor schoolmarm-ish librarian's aid would get herself off like whore, coming long, and hard, and strong, often disheveling herself in the process.
Yes, the other librarians knew. They knew that young Barbara was a good student, and a good girl, who didn't sleep around like a lot of the other girls did. So it was all the more understandable that she needed to give herself a little . . . "relief" from time to time. So what if her fingers occasionally danced between her legs? In fact most of the older librarians enjoyed the faint sounds of her passionate little surrenders, and the way she would emerge all flushed and full of youthful smiles after the forbidden encounter.
Now again, in the depths of Arkham, Batgirl was getting herself off again. Slack-jawed and drooling, making incoherent gurgling sounds, her pretty legs spread lewdly wide, her clitoris going insane with lust, the once proud librarian, daughter, valedictorian, straight-A student, superheroine, crime fighter, girl-next-door, and all-American role-model was little more than a beast now, as she crudely, lewdly humped her own hand. It felt sooooooooooooo damned good.
She didn't care how awful it looked. There was no one there to see. There was only the pleasure, and it ruled her with an IRON FIST.
Her fingers had teased her poor clit to the breaking point, . . . and beyond. It couldn't take much more, and neither could she. . .
At last, like a SUNBURST, the pleasure broke through the clouds, and Batgirl came. . . hard . . . as hard as she had ever cum in her life.
"HGGKKTT!!!" she grunted as the rapture took her, her groin exploding with liquid.
A savage burst of rapture vaporized Batgirl's mound, utterly vaporizing her mind with its blinding ecstatic intensity. Streaming brilliant rays of blinding savage ecstasy lanced out, piercing her clit, striking like a bolt of lightning between her legs. Her back arched sharply, her teeth gritted, as the mother of all orgasms, reduced Batgirl to a drooling jerking spasming bat in heat, . . . as the ecstasy of a lifetime blasted from her tiny clit with a glorious ruthless savagery that Batgirl wouldn't have traded for the world.
For long merciless moments the pleasure streamed from her impossibly tiny bud, flooding her grateful mound and body, like heaven itself was pouring out of her, like the fury of the gods.
The violent orgasm wracking her delicate 125 pound body like a tiny slutty little rag doll. If Batgirl could have seen herself, she would have been mortified to see America's sweetheart role-model, jerking and thrusting, twitching and gurgling in shameless abandon, as the voracious pleasure took her . . . roughly.
After a few minutes it was over, and Batgirl lay there, sweating, panting, drooling, . . . and positively glowing. Every ounce of strength that she'd ever had was gone. Her tiny triangular sopping wet mound was positively glowing, and she gently squeezed her thighs to wring just a little more pleasure out of the poor spent lump of flesh. It worked. . . It felt great. Her panties were doused with her own love fluids, and she couldn't have cared less. As she laid there, basking in her lewd afterglow, groping her own ass, she was utterly, undeniably beautiful.
The desperate tension-filled quest for release was now at last fulfilled, allowing her body now finally to slump over onto the cot, as she descended into a post-orgasmic stupor, basking in the heady smoky jingle-jangle smoldering pleasure which still lingered deliciously between her legs, in the tiny triangle of her sex . . .Batgirl eased into a post-orgasmic blissful sleep.
Lurking in the shadows, on a nearby gargoyle above, the Batman watched bemusedly as Batgirl slumped over, utterly besotted with her afterglow and passed out in a post-orgasmic stupor. He had arrived through the overhead air grate shortly after Batgirl had completed her cryptographic sequencer scan. When he had noticed what she was doing, he didn't want to interrupt, for fear of embarrassing her, but he couldn't easily leave without making a noise. As he had watcher her masturbating the entire thing had seemed somewhat raw in a way, but also quite beautiful.
His cowl cam has recorded it all, in mind-numbing detail, in high def, max-zoom, and audio surround-sound. His detective mode view had even given him a detailed read-outs of her arousal levels so that he had known the precise moment of her climax, complete with a numeric value of the intensity of her climax. It was a recording that he could review . . . later. Now he watched her with knowing eyes, as her arousal level slowly, slowly eased downward, the area between her legs still showed red on the thermal scans.
As he dropped down silently from the gargoyle, and stepped out of the shadows, his eyes devoured the spectacular beckoning curves of her reclined spent form. . .
In another part of the building, watching Batgirl on 8 separate monitors, Doctor Kink looked down admiringly on the scene, saying: "It's just as well that I turned off my cameras the moment you took out your cryptographic sequencer, then turned them back on a minute later. I was able to record the entire scene from 8 different angles. Well done, Batgirl, . . . your orgasm ranked a score of 11.2. On a 10-pint scale, that's pretty impressive. Now let's see how you do with the Batman. . . "
But Batgirl couldn't take time to celebrate her new high score, she was lost experiencing it. . .
When Batgirl awoke, she found the Batman in the cell with her, whispering to her, "Batgirl, wake up."
Blinking away her into consciousness, with long dark lovely fluttering eyelashes, she was grateful for the Batman's arrival.
"When did you get here?" she asked, hoping he hadn't seen her private reverie.
"Just a minute ago, you were asleep," he lied kindly.
"Batgirl, are you all right?"
"What's going on here?"
"It's worse than I originally thought," Batgirl explained. "Dr. Kinkaid (a.k.a. Dr. Kink) has gone nuts like I said. He's conducting some kind of misguided experiments. But he's also got help. He's compromised a good portion of the Nursing staff, as well as some of the patients, guards, and orderlies."
"How is he doing it?" the Batman asked in a low gruff voice. "It's not possible to bribe the entire staff. There a good honest professionals working here."
"I was pretty out of it at the time, but I vaguely remember overhearing them saying something about hypnosis treatments. . ." Batgirl explained.
"That would explain a lot. Kinkaid is an expert in hypnosis. If he's used that technique on his entire staff, we could be facing an army of blindly obedient zombies." The Batman's eyes narrowed. "This Doctor Kinkaid is good. . . He can imprison people, strap them down, drug them, and conduct sexual experiments on them, all in the name of 'legitimate science.' He could even conspire with certain like-minded inmates to facilitate his experiments, all while maintaining the illusion that all is well within the walls of Arkham."
"Well done, Batman!" Doctor Kink's voice boomed from nearby speakers, as his face appeared on the large flatscreen monitors mounted on the walls nearby. "In just seconds, you've managed to free Batgirl and assess your adversary. Nicely played, but there is still so much that you don't know."
"Why don't you enlighten me, . . . Doctor Kinkaid," the Batman's voice was dripping with contempt.
"Very well. You and Batgirl are to be the primary participants in a series of sexual and fetish experiments, which I will be conducting right here within the walls of Arkham. The tests will require the two of you to become, . . . well, . . . quite . . . intimate. You will follow my directions to the letter in all things, and will engage in whatever lewd activities that I direct you to, all in the name of medical research."
"I don't think so," the Batman replied flatly, his voice carried an ominous deadly serious tone.
"I feared that you'd say that, Batman, so I've prepared something special to change your mind." Suddenly the image of the Doctor on the screen was replaced with an image of the Gotham skyline. Do you see this shot of the Gotham City skyline? It's a live feed. Well, watch this."
A moment later, there was a brief flash of light, as one of the smaller buildings suddenly imploded and collapsed in on itself, sending a cloud of dust out in all directions.
"What have you done?" the Batman demanded angrily.
"I've just destroyed an apartment building, Batman. . . Oh, don't worry, it was utterly unoccupied. But I have 15 more buildings rigged in just the same way, and I assure you, Batman, that they are quite fully occupied by thousands and thousands of unsuspecting Gothamites."
"You're bluffing," the Batman responded.
"I'm afraid not, Batman, and I'll prove it if I have to. The next building will be Police Headquarters. You don't have any friends there, . . . do you?"
"Batman, no! Make him stop!" Batgirl called out with concern, thinking of her father, Commissioner Gordon.
"You're mad, Doctor!" the Batman responded, clenching his fists. His scowl of brimming rage would have melted the resolve of most men, but Dr. Kink felt comfortably at ease watching the Batman from the safety of a different office, on the other end of a computer monitor.
"How could you kill all of those people, doctor?" the Batman raged.
"Oh, my conscience is clear, Batman, because I wouldn't be killing them. You would be. You see, I have nothing against those people. I just needed leverage in order to assure your cooperation. I have no desire to hurt anyone. I'm just pursuing science here."
"Science? This is a perversion, Doctor! And you know it," the Batman seethed.
"The science of Sexology is oft maligned and misunderstood, Batman. I had hoped that you would be more open-minded. It is because of people like you that I am forced to pursue such extreme methods. Nevertheless, I require an answer. Will you cooperate with my sexual experiments, or shall I start activating detonators?"
"Where does it end, Doctor?"
"Funny that you should ask. For each experiment that you complete to my satisfaction, I will disarm the explosives at one building. When you have completed all 13 experiments to my satisfaction, I will let both you and Batgirl go free. In fact, technically, 4 of my experiments are already complete, so that only leaves 9 to go."
"And then you'll sell the rights to the video-recordings of your perverse experiments, am I right?"
"Oh no, Batman, you completely misunderstand me! The doctor/patient confidentiality is sacred! I would never share such recordings with the public, or even with other professionals."
"We're not your patients, Doctor," Batgirl protested.
"Ah, but you are, Batgirl, . . . you are," the Doctor parried. "And you'd better be glad that you are, because that's the only thing keeping me from selling the video rights to all of my lovely experiments on the black market," the Doctor gloated.
"So, you won't record any of it?" Batgirl asked, hoping for reassurance.
"Oh, I never said that. It's essential that I observe every detail of each sexual experiment, but I also understand that you will likely have a need for some privacy. That's perfectly normal, so in the interest of not wanting to give you both performance anxiety, I'll be observing each session through a number of detailed sensors, including heat-vision. This will allow me to witness exactly what's going on, from a scientific perspective, without creating a saleable product for the adult video market."
"What if we. . . you know, . . . Lots of girls are good at just faking it," Batgirl offered sheepishly.
"Oh, my sensors never lie, Batgirl. Brain scans, heart-rate sensors, pheromone sniffers, heat-vision video, together they will leave no doubt as to what is happening. I'll know exactly when you cum, and how hard you cum, how long you cum, and even how well you cum. If either of you even attempts to 'fake it," my dear, I assure you, I'll know instantly. And for the sake of the people in those 15 buildings, I certainly hope that you don't try it."
"You'll never get away with this, Dr. Kinkaid," Batman protested. "The police will catch on soon enough."
"I assure you, Batman, the police are quite busy trying to figure out why one of the buildings in downtown Gotham just went up in smoke," Dr. Kink explained. "We'll have plenty of time to finish our building is shielded against transmissions. Batgirl's earlier transmission to you only went through because I sent it through a special relay, because I wanted you to come here."
"What about the Justice League?" Batgirl objected. "They'll notice that we haven't checked in."
"Ah, the Justice League. I'm glad you mentioned that. I've taken care of them too. Don't expect the cavalry to be coming to your rescue, Batman. I hypnotized one of the maintenance people at the Hall of Justice, and had him pump a concentrated odorless colorless aphrodisiac into the air system there. I confess that I worked with Poison Ivy to develop the gas. I simply refined it, so that it would do less to stimulate an emotional connection, and more to stimulate an irresistibly powerful sexual arousal.
So if I'm right, our arousal gas has done its work, and just about now, the whole lot of America's greatest superheroes should, be coming down with a severe case of . . . arousal. Even now, every hero and heroine the Hall of Justice is going into heat . . . as never before.
"Why should we believe you?" the Batman countered.
"Think I'm bluffing? Watch this. . . I recorded this footage just minutes ago, with a hidden camera set up by the same maintenance man. It shows Nightwing, and Supergirl having a 'close encounter' of their own kind."
Suddenly the screen flickered, and switched to a security video view of an examination room within the Hall of Justice. Both Batman and Batgirl instantly recognized the room. The room was empty, except for a large flat examination table in the center of the room. A moment later, the large steel pocket doors that sealed the room slid open, and two figures quickly stepped in. It was Nightwing and Supergirl.
The moment the doors slid shut and locked behind them, the two heroic figures embraced in a desperately passionate kiss, as though they'd been waiting a lifetime to make love. They couldn't keep their hands off of eachother. As they kissed desperately, Nightwing backed Supergirl up against a nearby examination table, and his hands reached unapologetically toward Supergirl’s pert buttocks. For several moments, Nightwing groped the comely curves of Supergirl’s ripe rump, content to savor the contours of her perfect little ass through the skin-tight blue shiny-vinyl micro-miniskirt that the girl famously wore. The super-heroine's impossibly tight, tiny, shiny-blue micro-miniskirt dimpled nicely under the pressure of Knightwing's gloved hands. Though he groped her ass shamelessly, the girl made no effort to dissuade him, but instead lost herself in the deep wet French kiss.
But as good as her ass must have felt in his hands, it just wasn't enough. Knightwing's patience soon ran out, and his hands reached for the hem of the comically brief garment. Then in a sudden confident stroke, he jerked the skirt upward sharply, allowing Supergirl’s perfect little ass to bounce charmingly into view. Adorned now, as it was, by only the skimpiest of little thongs, Supergirl’s ass was marvelously available to Nightwing’s questing hands. He eagerly groped and squeezed, and sampled the lovely fleshy globes of her ass, as his manhood rapidly hardened against her leg, a fact that was not missed on the lovely Supergirl. The girl seemed not the bit distracted by the sudden revelation of her ass, and seemed to French-kiss all the more passionately, as Knightwing now groped her nearly naked ass.
Suddenly breaking off the kiss, both of them gasped for air, as Knightwing abruptly turned Supergirl around and folded her over the examination table. As Knightwing's eyes dropped to take in the full expanse of Supergirl's prone and tempting backside, he smiled in lurid lusty admiration of the wondrous forms before him. As Supergirl braced herself for the inevitable, Knightwing readied himself to enter her from behind.
Batgirl watched in silent amazement as she saw her best friend prepare to be . . . intimately invaded.
"There's no need for us to see this," Batman objected.
"Oh, but there is, my daring Dark Knight, . . . " Kink interjected, "just a few seconds more. We must have trust in our Doctor/Patient relationship. You asked for proof, so now I am obliged to provide it. In just a few seconds more, you'll have it."
While the area of their joining was not visible on camera, the expression on Supergirl's face, (her eyes closed in concentration, her mouth opening wide in sympathetic motion) told the story of Knightwing's slow and massive penetration. A moment later, Supergirl's head drooped, signaling the full depth of Knightwing's penetration. Then, the thrusting began.
Now the Knightwing on the video playback placed his hands firmly on Supergirl's narrow waist and the flare of her wide hips as he thrust furiously into her again and again, pounding her feverishly.
"Ohhhh-hh, Dick . . . " she moaned breathlessly.
"You gotta give the kid credit," Doctor Kink added. "Who wouldn't want to hump that Super-ass." But Knightwing . . . to his credit, . . . actually did it.
Contorted expressions of abject ecstasy played across the 22 year old Supergirl's girlish features, as her pale supple backside rippled and quivered with each and every hammering impact. Then her expression intensified vividly. Her pretty little face distorted in a grimace of merciless raptures, as a convulsion of sorts seemed to move like a wave through her body. The sheer intensity of her clenched teeth and wincing knitted brow spoke volumes about the power of her climax. A moment later, Knightwing pulled out and sprayed spurt after spurt of creamy white goo all over Supergirl's perfect ass and the small of her back. Then both figures collapsed and fell silent.
Just then, the video went black, and Dr. Kink again appeared on screen. "Well, that should suffice for the moment to convince you as to the truth of my claims, Batman. Oh, don't expect the cavalry to be coming to your rescue. Even now, every hero and heroine there is going into heat as never before. For that matter, I should mention that your cell has been filled with the same gas."
Quickly, Batman reached for an air filter.
"I should think that it's far too late for that. You see, Batman, I anticipated that with your iron will, you might try to resist even the most intense forms of sexual stimulation, as a way to thwart my schemes, but with the gas that you've already inhaled, even the slightest stimulation will be utterly irresistible, even to you.
"How do we know you'll keep your word, about defusing the bombs?" the Batman objected.
"Oh, I NEVER break my word, Batman. It would be a breach of the most sacred doctor/client relationship. I can assure you that nothing you say to me, or do with Batgirl will ever leave this room. Its critical for my research, you understand. That's what's important to me.
"Look, . . . Doctor," the Batman's voice was simmering with disdain and contempt, but now was becoming slightly more resigned. "Even if I wanted to comply, I can't speak for Batgirl. I can't force myself on her."
"Well, Batgirl?" the Doctor asked, "It sounds like it's up to you. Are you willing to submit yourself? . . . in order to save all of Gotham? . . ."
The Batgirl was looking at the floor, embarrassed and ashamed, searching her heart for the right thing to do, . . . the right thing to say.
"I. . ." she began uncertainly. "I . . . "
"Go on. . ." the Doctor added encouragingly, impatiently.
"I'll . . . I'll do it, . . . " she said at last, ". . . for Gotham."
"Excellent!" the deranged Doctor responded, enthusiastically. Then a moment later, at trap door opened up underneath Batgirl, and she descended rapidly out of sight."
"Batgirl!" the Batman called out, but the trap door had already closed.
"There's no need to worry, Batman. Batgirl's just getting ready for the next experiment. Even now, she is being sprayed with a highly potent acid. . ."
". . .which will rapidly eat through her uniform. But don't worry. She'll have just enough time to remove her uniform, before the acid reaches her beautiful little body."
"You must understand, Batman, it was the only way to get her to undress without endless delays and shame and self-consciousness. This way will be utterly discreet, private, and quick. By the way, it's time for you to be going as well." Then pressing a button, the Doctor opened up another trap door, and Batman dropped out of sight.
Experiment #5: The Shower
The Batman landed in a corridor in what appeared to be a basement locker-room area. There was no sign of Batgirl, so he began to explore a complex series of corridors. It was only after several minutes of exploring the complex of hallways that he began to hear running water. Following the sound down a long ramp, he found a room marked "Women's Showers." Entering, he saw himself in a full-length musty mirror, and instantly experienced déjà vu, from an earlier mission to Arkham. Moving on, he reached a long row of individual showers. Switching to Detective Mode, he saw the computerized skeletal outline of one woman, kneeling down, in the last shower.
Approaching cautiously, he called out, "Batgirl, is that you?"
But there was no answer.
As he stepped closer, the sound of running water got louder. Pulling back the shower curtain at last, he peered reluctantly in, and saw: . . .
Batgirl was kneeling down submissively in the shower. Her pert naked breasts and sleek sexy thighs were glistening with warm sparkling water. She wore only her cowl, and the briefest of blue-black thong panties, which were already dripping wet. Her areolas on her pale jutting wet breasts were pink, her nipples starkly erect. She looked sheepishly up at the Batman, but said not a word.
"Step in Batman," the disembodied voice of Dr. Kink commanded.
"Doctor! . . ." the Batman began, but he couldn't finish his threat for fear of what might happen to Gotham.
"In you go!"
Slowly. . . , reluctantly, the Batman stepped into the shower, . . . with Batgirl. Batman turned his back to the shower head, shielding Batgirl from much of the water.
As he stood there, it was evident that Batgirl was eye-level with Batman's . . . utility belt.
"Go ahead and stand up, Batgirl," the doctor commanded. "Let him get a look at you."
The glistening, dripping wet Batgirl was indeed a sight to behold. Her twenty-something year old body was utterly perfect. Toned but soft, slender but well-rounded, youthful but fully mature, womanly but. . . much younger than the Batman. Her body glistened as it dripped with sparkling water. The dripping rivulets of water described and accentuated each and every forbidden naked curve of her perfect feminine body. The sopping wet thong tucked so neatly between her legs, and so scandalously brief as it slid over her wide womanly hips. . . and tucked between her pert pendulous shiny-wet buttocks. The close confines of the shower also put her uncomfortably close. Her big blue beautiful eyes looked sheepishly, innocently up at the Batman, her tempting peach lips delicately pursed in an expression which looked like she was getting ready to kiss, but in truth was just her normal, distractingly hot, expression.
"Don't just stand there, Batman. The girl has just shared an intense sexual experience with you. She needs some encouragement, some emotional support, some closeness. Hold her! Give her a kiss."
"You don't have to do this," the Batman whispered to Batgirl.
After a pause, Batgirl stepped forward and put her arms around the Dark Knight's massive shoulders, standing on her tip-toes to do so, as she responded in an even softer whisper, ". . . I want to."
"Clumsily, awkwardly, the Dark Knight Avenger tentatively put his arms around Batgirl's immaculate, dripping, nearly-naked body, as they leaned into eachother's embrace. Reaching tentatively out toward one another, the gently embraced. Batgirl looked up to the Batman, her mentor, and then closed her eyes.
Gazing down at her perfect face, and at her sopping wet breasts where they were crushed against his armored chest, he watched the water run down into her cleavage, and then leaning down, he kissed her.
Her lips tasted like peaches.
A moment later, reflexively, his left hand reached for her bottom. Cupping the lower part of her full glistening-wet buttock in his hand, he scooped up a handful of ass, and squeezed the perfect wet globe of flesh, forcing a whimper of submission from Batgirl's throat, "Mmmmm-hhh. . ." she panted. It was a whimper which he could hear, and feel, and taste, through their kiss.
Now Batgirl's lips opened, and her tongue crept out to explore the Batman's mouth, . . . and tongue.
Batgirl's lips were sweet like strawberries and peaches. Reflexively, the Batman sucked her tongue into his mouth. For a man who's life has been long-focused on work and more work, the girl's soft succulent body was a striking breath of fresh air, a sudden dose of tenderness. Here, there was none of the cattiness and treachery of Catwoman, only purity, love, innocence and beauty.
Now as Batman's other hand joined the effort to maul Batgirl's dripping wet thonged ass, she began to lubricate, leaning into the Batman, and surrendering herself to him utterly. She loved the feeling of his hands on her ass, and she could feel him beginning to stiffen against her.
"Gooooooooooooooood. . ." the Doctor's voice cooed approvingly.
As they parted, Batgirl's eyes looked up to the Batman's but for once, his eyes betrayed uncertainty, where she had never seen it before.
"Now, my dear girl," the doctor's insipid voice continued. "Kneel down, again. You have some work to do."
Kneeling down, Batgirl stared straight ahead at the distinct bulge in the Batman's uniform.
"In the last experiment, Batman, you pleasured Batgirl. Now it's her turn to, . . . return the favor. Get to work, my dear," the doctor goaded.
"You don't have to--" the Batman began, but the doctor cut him off, "Yes, Batman, she does have to. You see the object of this experiment is to see if she can bring you off . . . to . . . completion. Anything shy of that goal will mean that another building goes up in smoke."
The Batman swallowed hard. This was unlike any other villain-trap he had been in. He took a moment to steel himself for what was to come.
Reaching forward, Batgirl slowly, gently traced the outline of his bulge until it stiffened some more. Then leaning forward she kissed the bulge, though his uniform, and it stiffened some more. She began rubbing it. Then reaching out, she pulled down the front of his briefs, and reached in to find the warm mass of his manhood.
Pulling his cape around both of them as a kind of privacy screen, the Batman hoped to preserve some sense of cover from the doctor's prying sensor eyes.
Soothed by the Cape's illusion of privacy, and wasting no time, Batgirl reached for a nearby bar of soap and quickly lathered it up.
Then taking the Batman into her hands, she began to wash him, to lather him up, . . . quite . . . thoroughly.
The act of 'washing' seemed somehow to be more caring and less lewd than what the doctor expected her to do. Still, she washed quite thoroughly, . . . far more than was necessary, soaping and lathering him, stroking and rubbing him in her nimble fingers perhaps rather more than was called for, as the Batman's manhood grew and extended to . . . heroic proportions.
Working the bar of soap into a foamy lather, she put the bar down and began to soap up the Batman's member and sack. Her fingers worked quickly and skillfully, touching and massaging him in a way that any man would have found . . . .pleasing. So soapy.
The firm lathering strokes had the desired effect, as Batgirl enjoyed the sight of . . . 'her creation.' Long and thick and veiny, its spongy head impossibly close to her, . . . needing her, straining toward her, here was a fine specimen of manhood, all soapy and eager, and handsomely erect.
"Impressive, Batman," the Doctor interjected through a nearby speaker. You haven't cum yet. It's not every man would could resist a hand job from a half-naked Batgirl. Perhaps we'll need to . . . up the ante. In my many years of work, I've found that oral intimacy does a great deal to hasten a couple's inter-personal bonds."
Batgirl's eyes met Batman's with a glance that spoke of a thousand things that she'd like to say, but couldn't. So instead, as the soap rinsed away, Batgirl leaned forward and parted her pouting peach lips. The sensation of her warm breath on him was unmistakable.
As he gazed down, into the shroud that he had made with his cape, he watched in disbelief as the prettiest young woman that he had ever seen, opened her pure perfect virgin mouth, and leaned forwarding preparing to violate her perfect pretty lips with the vileness of his manhood. Lips that had kissed her father on the cheek now parted to suck his cock.
In a moment that went by too quickly, she slipped the head of his member into her dainty little mouth. Her lips, so soft, so pretty and sweet, slid over his spongy head, and wrapped around his shaft just behind his head. This couldn't be happening. Then she leaned forward some more, impaling her sweet role-model face more deeply with his raging shaft.
Now she began to work her tongue, and suckle his shaft.
Soon her lips, jaw, tongue, hands, and throat were all working in perfect concert to bring the Batman to a heightened state of excitement. Indeed, the skill and alacrity with which Batgirl pleasured the towering form of the Dark Knight would certainly have caused the Commissioner to blush had he seen his young daughter so thoroughly engaged in saving Gotham City.
"Ohh, that's very good, Batgirl. Do you see that, Batman? The way that her head is bobbing? The way that she eases into things? For an inexperienced girl, her foreplay skills are quite commendable. You could learn quite a bit from this one."
In seconds, the manhood responded with a definite . . . stiffening. The probe's impressive dimensions and eagerness brought a smile to Batgirl's face.
"Unghhhhhhhhhh. . . " the Batman moaned involuntarily as the twenty-two year old knock-out continued to suck him off. Acting reflexively, the Batman placed his gloved hand on the back of her cowled head, guiding her movements, and urging her. . . deeper.
Batgirl gurgled and sputtered a little at first as she had trouble taking him so deeply, then after a moment, she gets the hang of it, and skillfully begins to throat him. The sensations of penetrating her perfect face so deeply are, . . . incredible.
Now she pulls out for a moment, revealing the thick viscous saliva from the back of her throat heavily coating his grateful member as she continues to slurp and suckle and lick him with fervor. Then promptly, she takes him in again with a low slurping sound, and throats him deeply. He's got to be close.
The sensations are incredible. He is so close.
Perhaps not wanting Batgirl to see him like this, the Batman suddenly pulls out of her pleasure-giving mouth, pulls her up to her feet, and turns her around and pushes her up against the shower stall wall, so that she is facing up against the tiled wall.
For a moment, he enjoys the feeling of his penis rubbing all over her wet sexy ass. Then he stabs his member between her soft toned dripping wet thighs. Catching on quickly, Batgirl squeezes her wet thighs together, crushing his hyper-sensitive penis between them. As he crushes his hips against her ass, the feeling is better than coitus. For a few glorious moments, he thrusts up against her wet thonged ass cheeks, his penis happily crushed between her admirably toned soft thighs.
"Very clever, Batman, at least this way, she won't be impregnated," the doctor interjects. "I guess technically I never said you had to penetrate her, fair enough. You've complied with the letter of the law if not the spirit of it. I'll allow it for now. But don't be too over-confident. Soon enough I'll arrange a scenario that even you won't be able to trick your way out of."
Her ass is incredible, . . .better than Catwoman's. Pulling out from between her heavenly thighs, he pins her up against the wall even more firmly, flattening the underside of his angry throbbing member between her perfect plump twenty-something ass cheeks. A moment later, crushed between those beckoning ass cheeks, thrusting against their fullness, . . . he cums.
"UNNGHH-hh!" he grunts.
On and on it goes as she feels his volcanic heat, his maleness jetting out onto the small of her back and her luscious buttocks. It was so warm, so wet, so slippery-slick, so ooozy, so . . . him, . . . soooo much.
This is the Batman that she has always wanted.
She loves the feeling of his hot member on her smooth cheeky ass, the feeling of his hot dripping emissions on her flanks. She loved being 'marked' by him. Nothing will ever take this moment away.
"Gooooooood," the Doctor cooed. "Thermograph imaging suggests that we've got a completion. Well done, Batman, . . . Batgirl. You've done it again. You've . . . saved the city. Thank you both."
As the Batman closed himself up, and stepped back, he felt suddenly dizzy, stepping out of the shower and into the locker room, the dizziness got worse. The world was spinning, and then, as he fell, the world went black. . .
Gazing up, he saw Batgirl, still dripping wet, looking down at him with concern on her face. Her breasts dangled down at him, as darkness consumed him.
Experiment #6 - Batgirl in Bondage
When the Batman woke, he found himself somewhere in the Kinkaid center. Getting up, he regained his balance and moved on. The Batman walked with panther-like power, silence, and confidence just a bit further, only to find himself at a dead-end. Switching to Detective Mode, he spotted an structurally weakened wall ahead. Spraying the suspect wall with Explosive Gel, he took a few steps back, and pressed the detonator.
"Crack-BOOOOM!" The bang was over in a second, but the dust took longer to settle as bits of cinder block continued to drop to the floor. When the dust cleared, Batman could see that the blast had torn a considerable hole in the wall, making it easy for the Batman to climb through.
Once on the far side, his Detective Mode HUD showed him the outline of an unarmed female, on her back, lying at an inclined angle. Creeping carefully around the next corner, he found Batgirl, nearly naked, strapped to an inclined examination table, by wide black leather straps. Channeling the comic book hero known as "Empowered," the pitiful little thing still wore only her Bat-gloves, boots, cowl, and a tiny, tiny blue thong. Everywhere else, was clean pale tender naked girlish flesh. But at least she'd had a chance to dry off. Her wrists were strapped down to the table on either side of her head, while another wide black strap pinned her wide womanly hips securely down. A shiny black tape gag effectively silenced her, except for muffled, but desperate protests, "mmMMMPHhh!! mMPH-hh!"
Her eyes were wide with excitement. Her attention-grabbing breasts, thighs, and midriff were utterly naked, her nipples sharply erect. Every inch of exposed skin DEMANDED his attention, but it was her pleading eyes that really grabbed him.
Reflexively taking out a Batarang to cut her free, the Batman approached Batgirl's lovely restrained outstretched body, secretly enjoying the obvious delectability of her tightly restrained form, her jutting breasts, her womanly thighs pressed so tightly together, the sharp pointed "V" at the front of her groin.
"Welcome back, Batman. We're glad you could join us," Kink's voice came from a nearby speaker, dripping with smarmy attitude.
"It's a nice bondage, don't you think?" the Doctor prattled on. "It provides a wonderful accessibility to all of Batgirl's most . . . appealing parts, don't you agree?" Despite the doctor's effort to always maintain a professional tone, occasionally he couldn't help but to let a little lewd innuendo creep into his incessant commentary. "Oh, and put that Batarang away. You won't be needing it. Batgirl will be staying EXACTLY where she is. . ."
"Now Batgirl is, how shall we say, 'a girl in need.' Now what is called for here, is a little vibrator action. You see, if she doesn't cum, . . . violently, . . . resoundingly, in the next 12 minutes, then, well, . . . thousands of people will die, . . . and it will be all your fault. Now, Batman, I've decided to make it easy on you. I've left a brand new vibrator, still in its plastic wrap at the foot of the examination table. All you have to do, is to put it to good use on Batgirl. She's quite young and fit. I'm certain she'll be. . . quite heroically appreciative. . . "
"Never, Kink!" the Batman spat back, reflexively, as Batgirl "mmmphed" excitedly.
"Very well, Batman. Now let me just grab that remote detonator. . .
"Wait! . . ."
"That's more like it, caped crusader. After all, it's just a vibrator. Batgirl has probably used one just like it hundreds of times. She might even like the idea of you using it on her. . ."
The Batman's eyes met Batgirl's.
"Batgirl, . . .I'm . . . sorry." But as their eyes met, her gaze gave him both permission and encouragement.
"You'll have 12 minutes to bring Batgirl off. If she cums, the first set of explosives will be disarmed.
Oh and, Batman, don't go thinking you can burn her out of those cuffs with a 'bat-laser' or a 'bat acid' or some such nonsense. Any such attempts at escape will be considered grounds for detonation."
Seeing the inevitability of his predicament, the Batman picked up the device, pulled off the clear plastic wrapper and activated it.
"Well don't just go right to it, Batman. You need to warm her up a bit. Touch her, . . . affectionately, now. Must I tell you everything? A woman needs to be put at easy before she can be excited," the sex therapist coached.
A quick nod from a still wide-eyed Batgirl confirmed what the doctor had advised.
Shutting down the vibrator, the Batman clumsily stepped up toward Batgirl's upper body, and slowly, tentatively placed his massive gloved hands on her waist, and began to stroke her sides, abs, and hips. Instantly Batgirl let out a sigh of relief as her body began to calm and ease into the strange scene, but the Batman was still moving awkwardly.
"Oh, and by the way, the clock starts its countdown, . . . now! Now there must be something of a normal man deep down somewhere inside you Batman," the doctor teased. "For a moment, just leave that brooding Dark Knight persona behind, and do what the MAN deep inside you wants to do with a woman."
Now the Batman began to move with more confidence, sliding his hands down Batgirl's hips to her sleek sexy thighs, then to her inner thighs, and finally, . . . up to her breasts. As he seized her breasts, he began kneading them more eagerly. Her tits were truly incredible, and slowly, deep down inside somewhere, the Batman gave himself permission to enjoy them. Now Batgirl closed her eyes, and moaned through her gag, as the one and only BATMAN massaged her sensitive and impressive breasts.
Now he began stroking her all over. And while her arms and hips were well restrained, her legs were not, so the Batman began moving her legs about, stroking them caressing them, even down to her plump tempting forbidden ass. Positioned as she was, he really couldn't get at her backside too well, but even what little of it he managed to caress . . . excited him, . . . and her.
Though the Doctor kept it to himself, the sudden increase in several of Batman's vital signs, corresponding to his touching her bottom clearly suggested that the Batman was . . . an 'ass man' after all.
"I'll bet the Batgirl has fantasized about this for years, Batman," the doctor chided.
Now the Batman began to stroke her inner thighs, and finally, her mound.
Now the Batgirl's eyes were closed, as she gave herself over to the moment. The world-famous Batman was heavy petting her, . . .and like nearly everything else he attempted, . . . he was pretty good at it.
Batgirl lay helpless and beautiful, nearly naked and highly aroused, every fanboy's dream, her eyes closed, as she let out little cooing sounds of arousal, "mmmmm, -- mm-hmm, mmmm-hhhhhhh-hh..." now she was breathing more deeply.
Though she wasn't aware of it, the heroine's little "mmphing" sounds were really turning him on.
As he caressed her sumptuous inner thighs. He dwelt there so long, that she concluded, "he must really like my thighs. . . "
Soon she was panting, as he skillfully petted her pleasure center.
Taking her cue, the Batman now re-activated the vibrator, and guided it toward the front panel of Batgirl's panties. "BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ-TZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ."
And finally he touched the vibrator against her mound. As he pressed it against her the vibrator changed its tone, "BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT-VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR."
It was clear now that Batgirl was writhing in ecstasy, her eyes closed, her perfect smooth naked thighs parted reflexively to give him better access to her . . . most private area.
Over several minutes, the Batman worked Batgirl into quite a frenzy, till the front panel of her shiny blue panties was sopping wet.
He loved looking at her smooth sexy full thighs, as they flexed and squirmed in growing arousal. Her squirming in general was highly arousing because it her wriggling spoke volumes about her own level of arousal.
Tape-gagged as she was, Batgirl couldn't even gasp or cry out, but her mind was screaming, "Don't stop! DON'T STOP!! DON'T STOP!!!"
Now her breathing quickened into short quick blasts. A steady stream of desperate muffled cries, clearly conveyed the intensity of the pleasure that was spiraling out of control between her thighs, "Mmmph--Nnnphh! mMMmmm-hh! Mmmm! nnNNNNphh! mmmmm!"
Now with knitted brow, her desperate eyes met the Batman's as her body squirmed toward her own hyper-powered release. She'd never felt so connected to a person, as his fingers reached inside the front panel of her panties, and stroked her needy clit. Every wiggle of his fingers was heavenly. Her beautiful clear blue eyes seemed to beg for release, . . . orgasm, climax.
The Batman's knowing eyes drank in the erotic scene, as the beautiful scantily clad Batgirl frantically squirmed on the very edge of erotic oblivion. She was so close, so needy, . . . so damned hot.
Now her cries grew from desperate to frantic, as she felt the inevitable, swelling up inexorably inside the point of her tiny mound. Her eyes lost focus, as she focused on the one thing in the universe that mattered right now, the blazing orgasm that was about to possess her.
The pleasure that he was stirring up in her was so exquisite, so sweet, so incredible that Batgirl simply wanted to burst.
"She must be torn," Dr. Kink whispered to Nurse Shackle as they watched the sensor readings from their control room, "She's dying to cum, but riddled with shame over being so debased in front of her teacher and mentor. Likewise, he must be torn. Participating in such an intense sexual encounter with an apprentice. He must know that he can never have a relationship with her. This one encounter will likely ruin their relationship forever."
"Gee I dunno, Doc. I think its kinda hot. . ." Shackle replied.
"Go ahead Batman, give Batgirl her 'little death,' or Gotham will have thousands of BIG deaths," the mad doctor sneered.
Suddenly Batgirl's squirming ceased. For a moment, her body froze, as a torrent of aging intensity shuddered through her bucking body.
For long tense moments she quivered and shook with unimaginable force as a mind-blowing orgasm utterly had its way with her fit young body. Her groin gushed, as the Batman looked on in fascination.
The sheer intensity of the momentous event was unmistakable. The Batman had never seen anything so erotic or powerful in his entire life, as he watched the beautiful young Batgirl weather the throes of her brutal, ravenous climax. . . it was beautiful, sublime.
Eventually the savage orgasm loosened its grip on Batgirl, and she collapsed in series of ungainly after-spasms. Now the Batman reached out and massaged the young woman's sopping wet mound at the front of her panties, urging several more exquisite after-gasms from her intensely appreciative body.
Then, as he withdrew his gloved hand, all grew quiet and still as the nearly naked Batgirl's blissfully satisfied form finally eased and slowly writhed in the after-shudders of her superb afterglow. The afterglow was not as brutal in its severity as the orgasm has been but its subtle glowing tones reminded Batgirl of the colors of a perfect sunset, or the flavors of a fine wine, or vintage cigar. Her smooth sexy naked thighs scissored against eachother, smearing the wet juicy fluids that she had gushed during her orgasm, but she was perhaps too lost in the wonder of it all to care if the Batman noticed.
"There, Doctor, you've had your experiment," the Batman spat the words out with bitter contempt. "Now defuse the bomb."
"Very good, Batman and Batgirl, and well within the allotted time. I'll diffuse the bomb, Batman, as promised, but first, . . ."
A moment later, a tiny dart whisked across the room, impacting the Batman in the neck.
"Hhh-kk!" the Batman sputtered.
"Oh, sorry about that Batman, but it's time to begin the next experiment. The concoction that I just injected into your neck is a fiendish little mix of mine. Its 25% Poison Ivy's aphrodisiac, 25% Scarecrow toxin (designed to remove all inhibitions), 25% my own special lust potion, and 25% Bane's venom. But the truly special ingredient . . . is .02% Titan Formula."
"WHAT?!!" the Batman called out.
"mMPHhh??" Batgirl called out, sexily through her tape gag.
"Yes, Batman, . . . the Titan Formula. Now, don't worry. At just .02% concentration the Titan Formula won't turn you into a massive crazed mutant like it did the Joker, and it won't physically distort your bones and muscles. . . In fact it won't visibly distort you at all. But it should have a . . . very interesting psycho-sexual effect upon you. Combined with Ivy's love potion, Scarecrow's Inhibition toxin, and Bane's strength venom, you should become an unbridled raging sex machine, Batman. You'll become completely beholden to your base . . . animal needs. You see, . . . that's the point of Experiment #7.
Experiment #7 - Titan Batman
As the Batman stood, towering over the bound, half-naked defenseless Batgirl, his body raged with the power of Dr. Kink's insidious formula. While his physiology did not change, his body writhed, as powerful animal urges deep within him began to struggle for supremacy. His fingers curled like claws, his back and shoulders hunched, his head sunk low, his eyes took on a wild gaze. His muscles flexed, and he felt like a man transforming into werewolf like in a Hollywood movie. What was once a commanding hero, in moments became a raging beast. At once, the muscles in his arms, legs, chest, and core seemed to ripple with a new untold power, and raw animalistic drive. His mouth opened, but he did not speak. What came out was not quite a growl and not quite a hiss. But whatever it was, that feral snarl was the sound of an animal, . . . not a man,. . . not Bruce Wayne.
Bound and naked, two feet away, Batgirl wanted to run and hide, but she couldn't go anywhere. Instead, she frantically wriggled the only part of her that she could move, her sexy naked legs.
Then as the beast's eyes turned toward her, and fell upon her perfect bound nearly naked body, Batgirl could see that all inhibition was gone from those eyes. This was a beast, a beast in heat.
Now his animal eyes devoured the sight of her. The Batman's animal mind assessed her. Whoever she was, she was perfect: Female to be sure, . . .with large bouncing wobbling breasts and wide-wide womanly hips, clothed . . . with nothing more than a skimpy thong which was soaked with her sexual juices, . . . just the way he liked his females. She was bound and helpless, squirming erotically; gagged, the better to silence her. Her body was soft and curvy, . . He must have her.
Stepping between her beautiful pointed legs, he grabbed her by the ankles, and easily pried her legs apart. She was stunned by his power, as he simply pried her legs apart, and then moved between them. But all her struggling did no good, as it only made her tempting round breasts bounce and jiggle all the more alluringly for his viewing enjoyment.
"MMMMMMMMMMMPHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Batgirl called out helplessly, as the monster/man hunched over her.
He was breathing heavily now, like a wolf in heat, as he knelt between her naked parted thighs. No man has ever known such unbridled lust as the Batman felt. Perhaps no woman has ever known such lust as what Batgirl was experiencing either. . .
Now as she gasped for breath through her dainty nose, her nipples and breasts were hard and erect with arousal, her eyes wide with excitement. Looking down, she could see his animal bulge as he towered over her defenselessness. Now with one long claw-like hand he reached under her, grabbing her full rounded flank, while with the other, he grabbed a pale needy tit. Soft and yielding, the pale tit felt good in his hand-claw, its nipple proud and erect.
He towered between her thighs. There was nothing that she could do about that. But she was surprised at how acutely aroused she felt, to be pinned so helplessly under his massive frame.
He squeezed her tender thonged ass. Her tender pale buttock felt good in his animal hand, . . . pale, soft, vulnerable, her yielding flesh compressed nicely under his grip. He squeezed it again, as she looked up at him, mute, lost in a mixture of emotions, fear, desire, . . . lust.
Spreading his cape out around them, like the great leathery wings of a giant bat, like a shroud or curtain, like the cloak of Dracula, he hid her body from prying eyes, and then delicately moved her wet thong to one side. Freeing himself, he lowered his member toward her entrance.
Looking down between ripe youthful jutting breasts, Batgirl gasped at the size of whatever it was that she saw. If her eyes had been wide with anticipation before, they were doubly-wide now. A moment later, he inserted his monstrosity into her, and urged his needy hips forward, slowly impaling her, warm wet, slick, tight, welcoming core.
Batgirl's eyes closed, and her pretty naked legs spread wide, surrendering herself utterly to the Batman's invasion, with a low gutteral moan through her gag, "Mmmmmnnnngggggggggghhhhhh-hhh. . ."
But the Batgirl's ferociously tight grip, due more to her youth, than of any effort on her part, surprised the Batman-creature. She was tighter than he expected. Tighter, hotter, wetter, slicker,. . .
"NNNnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn-ggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh...!" the beast moaned as it impaled Gotham's most virtuous beauty tightly.
"S-sooooo - t-tighhhhhht..." was all the slavering creature could comprehend, as it thrust deeply into her gripping wet core.
Then drawing out again, it began to thrust.
The beast cared nothing for Batgirl's pleasure, it cared only to vanquish its own needs, but nevertheless, Batgirl's excitement swelled, perhaps even surpassing the beast's. She had never been so rudely used, so deeply impaled, so enthusiastically humped. . . She loved it. And her clitoris soared toward yet another release.
Her breasts bounced up and down wildly as the thrusting continued, the sound of his balls slapping her ass filled the chamber. . . She loved the feeling and the sounds of his balls slapping against her pale ass.
Now the animal's thrusting grew more impatient, more ravening, as it lunged into the bound beauty with abandon, until Batgirl's tiny pale frame (dwarfed under the hulking behemoth of the Batman) arched sharply, as nature bestowed on her clitoris an other-worldly orgasm that she would, quite literally, never forget. "nnNNNNNNNNPPPHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!"
The beast paused for a moment to enjoy the view of Batgirl caught in the paroxysms of her fierce rapture, then . . . as her heroic body sagged, the creature went right back to it. Her climax had caused her grip to intensify like a vice on the creature, and the flood of her hot gushing fluids excited the base creature even further. The flopping breasts, the sweet tender grip, it was all too much for the beast. . .
"Very good, Batman! Very good!" the Doctor cried out in exhilaration. "Coital climax at 5:33am."
Slowly rising up out of Batgirl, with an oozy-goozy "Sssssschluuuuurp!" the Batman ripped off the leather straps which bound her nubile form, a move which evoked a sharp yelp from the bound girl. Then he rolled the girl over, so that he was confronted with the tempting package of her oiled thonged rump.
The soft oiled globes of flesh were quite a sight for any heterosexual male, and utterly irresistible to a man is such an animalistic state. For several moments he played with the soft sexy orbs, as Batgirl looked worriedly back over her shoulder at him. . .
For several seconds, he lay the hot, thick, heavy manhood into the grove of her ass, slowly humping her cleft, crushing his hips against the cushions of her slick shiny oiled ass, . . . but this time, as sweet as it was, . . . it wasn't enough. Skewering her deeply from behind, he rutted her deeply, the sounds of his hips slapping repeatedly against her beckoning oiled ass echoing throughout the room, as Batgirl moaned erotically through her tape gag.
The girl's ripe ass, erotic cries, her tunneling grip, and the feeling of her heavy oiled tits in his hands were too much and --
Was it a howl or a moan? as the Batman-creature emptied its everything into Batgirl, ...deep into Batgirl.
For long glorious moments, the Batman lay heavily on Batgirl, crushing her tiny sexy frame with the monstrosity of his panting body.
"Very good, Batman! Very good!" the Doctor cried out in exhilaration. "Coital discharge at 5:36am. I could hardly have hoped for more."
But as the Bat-creature reluctantly withdrew from Batgirl, it closed up the front of its uniform, as well as what was left of Batgirl's uniform, and stepped off of the examination table. Taking a line of Bat-cord from its utility belt, he/it quickly whisked the line around Batgirl's ankles, effectively binding her sexy legs together.
Then pulling her up off of the examination table, he flung her up onto his shoulder in a classic OTS pose that showed off Batgirl's beautiful ripe oiled thonged ass admirably. Discharging another blast of Explosive Gel onto the wall, the Batman detonated the charge, blowing a large hole in the exterior wall. CRACK-BANG! the blast echoed through the close quarters. Then pulling a Bat-Grapnel out of his utility belt, he fired it into the night, for the creature could not be contained. . .
"Don't forget to have him back by nightfall tomorrow, Batgirl," the doctor's voice rang out from the speakers in the room. "The Titan effects should have worn off by then. This doesn't let you off the hook, Batgirl! You'd better return, or Gotham goes up in smoke!"
And with that, the grapnel line retracted, sweeping the Bat and Batgirl off into the night.
Moments later, at the top of tallest tower of Arkham Mansion, the Batman looked off into the pale full moon, the sexy Batgirl, still bound and nearly naked, cowering at his feet, on a ledge that must have been hundreds of feet in the air. With her hands free now, she peeled off the tape gag, but when she reached to unfasten the ankle bindings, he shot her a warning look.
"Would he really mate with her struggling helpless form on this tower, high over Gotham? What did he have in mind for her?" she wondered, as she cowered there before him.
Reaching into his utility belt, he pulled out a small square of tightly folded gray fabric, and handed it to her. Unfolding it, she quickly saw that it was a spare Batgirl unitard. Perhaps his civilized side was beginning to return.
Reaching again for her ankle bindings, Batgirl unwound them, then stood up and walked around the corner of the tower to pull on her uniform. In a moment she returned, fully dressed in her tight gray form-fitting unitard.
Then scooping her back up in his arms, he flopped her over his shoulder again, so that her wild, well-rounded bottom faced forward, then he leapt off of the roof and again into the darkness. . .
If Batman/beast was understandably aroused by the sight of Batgirl's nearly naked oiled body writhing in the passionate glow of a ruthless clitoral climax, then he was not the only one.
In a nearby control room, Dr. Kinkaid and Nurse Shackle were locked in each other's arms as they desperately pawed at one another. Aroused by Batgirl's hedonistic display at the hands of the Batman, the Doctor and Nurse were bound and determined to find their own release. Now the erotic visions of Batgirl's dramatic orgasm were quickly replaced by the erotic visions of the buxom nurse in his arms. As his hand slipped down from her back to her waist, to the generous curves of her hips, and round the even more generous curves of her ass, the good doctor slipped his hand under the edge of the nurse's, oh-too-short of a white micro-mini skirt, and gently pulled up, allowing the nurse's thonged ass to pop and bounce luridly into view.
He scooped up the tender cool buttocks in his hands and groped them shamelessly, as the nurse's tongue desperately wrestled his own. The Nurse's costume was just one of many costumes that "did it" for the doctor. Eager to ease his own plight, the doctor forcibly broke off the kiss, turned the nurse around, and bent her over a nearby examination table. For a moment he savored the view of her flawless ass, and that proper white thong, that did everything it could to celebrate this woman's dynamite ass. Then undoing the front of his trousers, he eagerly impaled the prone beauty.
Soon, the rhythmic sounds of a squeaking examination table filled the air, as Dr. Kinkaid "probed" the depths of Nurse Shackle. Each impact of his hips against the plump round fullness of the nurse's pale quivering ass cheeks was clearly audible. She was a hot fuck, deep, and wet, and slick, . . . so hot and tight. In moments the doctor emptied his gooey, slimy-slick all, . . . into her.
Carrying Batgirl's limp sexy form over his shoulder, his hand resting easily on her wide shapely rump, the Batman raced over the grounds of Arkham Asylum like a ghost. Making his way back to Arkham North, he slipped into a remote underground passageway just to the east of the Kinkaid center. Following a series of unlikely twists and turns, he carried her pleasing form to a narrow passage with a distinctive rock formation.
He waits only for a moment, when suddenly a laser scanning device activates, and scans the both of them. The security laser scans the length of his body, as well as Batgirl's sexy prone rump, prominently displayed over his shoulder.
"IDENTITY CONFIRMED: BATMAN. IDENTITY CONFIRMED: BATGIRL," the security device proclaims. A moment later, the rock formation rolls back with mechanical efficiency, revealing the entrance to Arkham's very own Batcave.
Proceeding down a long dank corridor, the Batman is careful not to bump Batgirl against any of the rough outcroppings of rock, but there is nothing that he can do to protect her from the streaming water which drenches part of the passageway, and soon her pretty upturned rump is drenched in cave water.
Her prominently displayed ass, is now shiny and wet, like the lower half of a wet-T-shirt competition. Still the Batman's hands happily explore her shiny drenched rump, in a sincere effort to "steady her." After a moment her gives the girl's rotund buttocks a resoundingly wet "SMACK!" causing the shapely muscle mass to quiver enticingly.
In the two years since the Titan Incident, the Batman has added several walkways to this facility, so that it is no longer necessary to leap from scaffold to scaffold, as it was back then. Taking the stairs down to the lower level, he lays Batgirl's sexy wet body out on a nicely padded examination table.
"Oooooooooooooooooo..." she cooes.
In her sopping wet uniform, her nipples firmly erect, she looks like the winner of a Superheroines' Wet T-Shirt competition. She is irresistible.
"Let's get you out of these wet clothes, the Batman whispers," his human voice now restored to him. Then in an act that any fanboy would only dream of, he begins ripping Batgirl's clothes off, revealing her perfect, nearly naked body yet again.
With the more monstrous effects of the Titan Formula already past, or at least partly under control, the Batman is more or less himself again, but he has never felt so vigorous, and his need is not dissipated.
"Hold me," Batgirl gasps from her lust-addled delirium, her body chilled by the wet clothes, the cool cave air, and by being so suddenly exposed. The Batman grasps her perfect naked body in his arms. She feels so good in his arms, and she feels so safe being held.
"Make love to me, Batman," she whispers.
There, in the Batcave, Batman carries Batgirl in what little remains of her wet tattered uniform, to a nearby bed. He lays her down there, and joins her on the bed. The massive size of his body contrasting strikingly with the tiny dimensions of hers.
As the two of them lay in bed, they held eachother and kissed tenderly. He loved kissing those full shiny pouting peach lips, loved the feeling as his tongue explored her mouth, as he sucked on her tongue. He loved the feeling of her massive pouting naked breasts crushed up against his chest. He loved the feeling of her ass, . . . soft, full and round in his hands. But most of all, he loved her sighs. . .
With all the lovely heavy petting, Batgirl's body was aflame with excitement. Her full pale thighs scissored and parted, waiting for his touch. Gently, she took his hand and placed it where she wanted it, his fingers quickly driving her to distraction. It was heavenly. When her body could wait no longer, she whispered, "I need you inside me."
Slowly he mounted her, missionary style, and slowly urged his manhood past the barrier of her thong, and into her warm, wet, welcoming core, slowly penetrating her slick tight core deeply. Sweet expressions of abject bliss played across her pretty features as he slowly urged himself deep, deep into her. Then his lips lunged in and out in long slow smooth strokes, as she cooed and sighed. It was heavenly being so connected. Nothing had ever felt better.
But as good as it was, it wasn't enough. Slowly, reluctantly he finally withdrew. Batgirl crawled up on all fours, and presented herself invitingly for him. Soon he sidled up behind her, gripping her oiled hips in his hands, and slowly, ever-so slowly, . . . entered her. Buried so deep in Batgirl's cunt, he savored her hot slick grip on him. . . but as good at it felt to plunge into the slick warm, wet sodden depths of her, it was the sudden stop as his hips collided with Batgirl's plump pale perfect thonged ass that really drove him crazy. At times he would stop and just grind his hips against her perfect pale ass, as his dick was buried deep inside her clutching core. . . Reaching down and around, he sampled Batgirl's incredibly soft down-hanging tits. They felt incredible, inspiring a new urgency in his thrusting.
"Bat-girrrrrrrrrrrrl. . . ." he moaned.
The rutting continued as the slapping assault caused her buttocks to quiver, urging a delightful series of moans and cooing cries from the besotted Batgirl.
A moment later, it happened. . . .GUSH-GUSH-SPLURT-SLURT- SPLORT months of pent up tension squirted into Batgirl's womb.
For hours they make love, their bodies intimately intertwined, and seldom parting, as they demonstrated a veritable "Bat-Kama Sutra" of positions.
Alfred, for his part, watched on Cameras #6, 7, and 8 back in the "real Batcave" under Wayne Manor. "Thank heavens they've found a way to burn off those dreadful arousal drugs," he commented, as he dutifully watched the goings on. "I fear I shall have to watch until I'm quite certain those ghastly arousal drugs have ceased to have any effect on them . . ."
For hours he rutted her, as Alfred looked on with the occasional, "Well done, sir!" whenever Batgirl would suddenly spasm in a fierce climax, then hang limp in erotic exhaustion.
When their passions were nearly quenched, they drifted off to sleep, in the black silken sheets of the Arkham Batcave's bed, spooning closely, his hard dark body pressed intimately up against the soft welcoming curves of her pale rump, thighs, and back, in the dark of the cave as the day goes by.
The following evening, Batgirl awakes to find herself face-down on a steeply inclined examination table, tightly bound by a series of tight black leather straps. She is naked save for her cowl, and a terribly brief thong.
"What's going on?" she asks of the unexpected bondage.
"You were shaking in your sleep. It wasn't safe," the Batman responded.
"Really?" the sexy young heroine inquired, incredulously.
"Yeah, . . . that and . . . I'm not done with you yet. . ." he replied.
With a knowing smirk, Batgirl looked over her shoulder, as the Batman's eyes drank in the magnificent sight of her bound form, and prodigious thonged ass.
Leaning the full length of his body against hers, the naked skin-on-skin sensation is incredible. His already-erect member feels like a steel spike in the valley between her plump ripe toned ass cheeks. Nothing could feel better.
"Haven't you had enough?" she teased.
". . . No," he replied flatly. And so it continued. He groped every inch of her perfect naked body, dry humped her perfect ass, thigh-fucked her perfect thighs, and penetrated her deeply. When the Batman came, long gooey ropes of cum splattered copiously over her fulsome rear, like hot cross buns.
A half an hour later, Barbara emerged from the shower, a new woman, almost literally.
Unable to find any fresh Batgirl uniforms, Barbara grabbed the only thing that she could find, that would fit her. It was a rather fetching feminized version of the classic "Robin" sidekick costume. Conceived as a "Robyn" uniform, the costume had been hurriedly designed and made just a few months ago, when Batgirl had been falsely accused of murder. The "Robyn" persona gave Barbara a way to work the streets and rooftops of Gotham, clearing her name while "Batgirl" remained safely out of site. In short order, the Batman had been able to prove Batgirl's innocence, and so she had never actually made use of the prototype costume. Now, as she stepped out in it for the first time, Batman got his first good look at her in the "Robyn" uniform.
The costume, as it appeared on Barbara, was nothing less than breathtaking, . . . phenomenal. While the "bare legs" look might have looked silly on the Boy Wonder, Barbara's bare legs looked undeniably fantastic, clad only in super-shiny nude pantyhose. While the tiny green briefs might have looked goofy on the Boy Wonder, the shiny green panties of this costume, cut oh-so-high on the hips, exaggerated the length of her legs and the width of her hips. A red tunic, much like that of the original Robin was stretched tantalizingly over the swell of Barbara's bulging bustline, stretching and distorting the "R" emblem, even as the bumps of her erect nipples were clearly visible through the shiny red fabric. A simple black belt encircled the tiny narrow span of her slender waist. A simple black mask adorned her face.
Anyone who said that the Robin costume had a "boyish" feel to it, had never seen Barbara Gordon in this suit.
Alfred hit "RECORD," as Batman and Barbara went at it again. For at least two hours, "Robyn" was busy gasping and whimpering through her gags, in the throes of intense bondage sex, as the Batman repeatedly emptied his all into her . . . and onto her. Barbara had never cum so many times.
After some time, they were done, washed, fed, and ready for duty again. Unfortunately the Robyn costume was besmirched in far too much semen to be usable for the night's mission, but it was guaranteed to be used again and again for . . . other purposes.
The Batman was able to locate a fresh Batgirl costume for Barbara. It wasn't her usual Waynetech body armor. Instead, it was her classic old gray unitard. At last, Batgirl pulled her boots on, and gave a quick snap to the blue thong that fit so neatly over her gray tights. It was good to be fully clothed again. But the new uniform wouldn't provide Batgirl with even the slightest bit protection, the way that her body armor did. Worse yet, the thin clingy gray unitard was mind-warpingly form revealing. And the shiny blue thong that she wore over it, only accentuated the loveliness of her curves all the more.
Pinching up a section of gray fabric at her hip, Batgirl absent-mindedly pulled it out, and then allowed it to snap sexily back onto her hip.
"Batgirl, I'm. . . sorry about . . . the Titan Formula, . . . I--" he began.
"Don't worry about it," Batgirl reassured him. "It only got the better of you for a few minutes. And even then, I trusted you. I knew the real you was deep down in there somewhere. Actually, . . . it was kind of exciting. Sometimes it's OK for a girl to see a guy go all "cave man" on her. And after we got back here, well. . . that was kind of wonderful."
He shoots her a knowing smile, then it's back to business.
"Arkham's out of control. Dr. Kinkaid is working with Ivy and the Scarecrow to concoct strange new formulas and experimenting on his patients, while he's terrorizing the entire city. Kink has got to go down, . . . tonight."
"So what do you think Dr. Kink's end game is? What is he really after?" Batgirl asked as she walked with the Batman back toward the secret entrance of the cave.
"I don't know. But it's not as simple as having us complete a finite number ill-conceived erotic experiments. He'll show his hand before long. I just spoke to your father, Commissioner Gordon, while you were getting dressed. The police are already finding and diffusing Kink's bombs all throughout the city. I told him how many buildings Kink has rigged. The bomb-squad has already diffused several, but they'll need time to locate and diffuse the rest of them. When they've found all 13 of them, they'll light up the Batsignal to let us know. But for now, we've got to play along with Dr. Kink's experiments to buy them a little more time. Are you up for that?"
"I'll manage," Batgirl responded coolly, smoothing her snug shiny costume over breasts, waist, and hips.
"In the mean time, I've informed the Justice League of the arousal toxins that were distributed there. Everyone there is officially 'off duty' until they are sure that the aphrodisiac toxins have run their course."
And so together, Batman and Batgirl set out to confront Dr. Kink just as the sun was setting.
Experiment #8: Arkham North
In the main courtyard in front of the Kinkaid center, Batgirl and Batman met up with two guard/orderlies who led them inside to a nearby flatscreen monitor. The orderlies, with their telltale expressionless stares, were clearly under the influence of Dr. Kink's hypnosis. Suddenly, the screen popped on.
"Welcome back. I think you'll like this next mission, Batgirl," Doctor Kink prattled imperiously from the flatscreen monitor. "You can actually complete this one alone, . . . and with your clothes on. I'm going to allow you out of the Kinkaid Center, and onto the grounds of the Asylum, in order to conduct a kind of 'scavenger hunt.' I know that you won't run off on me, Batgirl, because if you do, most of Gotham will go up in smoke."
"Here is your challenge: I've hidden a number of videos, stored on thumb-drives around the grounds of the Arkham North, in large flat cylindrical metal tins. It will be your job to locate and watch at least two of these videos, then return to the building, and locate at least one Riddler Trophy, all within the next 45 minutes. If you succeed, the city is safe. If not. . . "
"That doesn't sound too hard," Batgirl whispered under her breath to Batman, recalling all of the items that the Batman located during the Titan Incident at Arkham just a couple of years before.
"What about me?" the Batman asked gruffly.
"I have a separate mission for you, Batman," the Doctor replied. "But first, allow me to dismiss these orderlies" Speaking clearly to the hypnotized guards, he commanded them, "Go back to your beds and rest," then at the very end, he added ". . . Balthazar." With that 'release word,' the orderlies blinked, and looked around, as if they had just woken up. Then slowly, they moved off to their bunks, prompted by their post-hypnotic suggestion.
"Ah, but Batgirl, there is one more minor obstacle that I should probably mention before you begin your search. At night, I always like to let a few dozen of my lunatics roam the grounds on their own. I also allow a few of my hypnotized guards and orderlies to roam the grounds. Tonight, I've informed all of them of your presence. I must say that both the guards and the lunatics seemed quite pleased at the prospect of having a tightly clad unarmed Batgirl on the loose. Each and every one of them assured me that he was looking forward to having a rather intense . . . sexual encounter with you."
"You diseased maniac!" the Batman retorted.
"Oh, I'm not the maniac, Batman. But I can't say the same thing about the lunatics that are planning to have Batgirl's delicious curvy body all to themselves tonight. Now run along, Batgirl, . . . and be careful."
"I'll be alright, Batman," Batgirl said reassuringly.
Stepping out onto the balcony, she looked out over Arkham North, and deeply inhaled the scent of the fresh cool night air. Then switching to Detective Mode, she scanned the area. There were several roving inmates lurching around in unfastened straight-jackets, but they were far from her current position.
Using her Line Launcher, she fired a zip line across the clearing to a nearby tree at eye level. Then, gracefully pulling up her knees, she zipped across the clearing, and across to the tree. From there, she dropped down onto the top of a nearby guard shack. Since Detective Mode showed the shack as unoccupied, Batgirl, opened a hatch on the top of the guard-shack, and dropped inside. A quick search revealed nothing of interest, but she could hear someone approaching.
Jumping up through the top hatch again, Batgirl could now easily see three slobbering inmates loping awkwardly toward her. They had clearly spotted her, and were mumbling, "Ba-girrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, Ba-girrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl!"
A quick zip-line took her away from the lunatics, and across the front driveway where the two Batmobiles were parked, to another guard shack. Dropping in, she quickly searched the room, and spotted a large metal disc-shaped container. Prying it open, she spotted a thumb drive, just as the Doctor had promised. But before she could access it, the sounds of the approaching inmates were growing dangerously near.
Now one slavering lunatic appeared at the door, his eyes ablaze with lust. Batgirl barely made it to the overhead hatch, as he grabbed for her. A moment later, she fired her Grapnel at a nearby guard tower, and releasing the trigger, she allowed the advanced piece of equipment to pull her gracefully skyward to the roof of the guard tower, high above the attacking inmates. Dropping down onto the metal walkway at the top of the guard tower, Batgirl took the precaution of walking around and down a few steps of the stairway that led to down to the grounds. Using her Explosive Spray Gel, she coated several steps with the substance. If anyone approached, and tried to box her in, Batgirl could detonate the gel, stopping or at least delaying her attackers before they reached her.
Then climbing back up the stairs, Batgirl searched the tower, only to find yet another flat circular tin, with another thumb drive inside. Popping the first drive into a computer in the guard tower, Batgirl dutifully watched the recording. As the static passed, she saw: 5, 4, 3, 2, . . . Justice League Footage: Part 2."
There was a flickering and static, and then the picture cleared revealing Knightwing and Supergirl, still in that same room in the Hall of Justice. Knightwing's head was buried between Supergirl's super-thighs, as Supergirl head lolls to one side. Her tiny white top was pulled up revealing her naked breasts. Her naked breasts, firmly pointed like soft fleshy missile cones, jiggled enticingly, as the girl gasped.
"Oh Knightwing!" Her voice is desperate, gasping. "Don't stop-hh! -- Feels so good! Oh yeah!, Nightwing, . . . Oh yeah! Oh baby! My clitty feels so good, baby. My itty-bitty-clitty feels so gooooooood, I'm so close baby. I'm gonna cum! I'mgonnacum! I'mgonnacum!!"
"I never knew she was so chatty," Batgirl thought to herself absent-mindedly as the explicit video played on.
But soon Supergirl's diatribe was cut abruptly short as -- "UNGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-hh!" her body suddenly bucked and quaked, as a super-human Kryptonian orgasm ripped through her clitoris utterly decimating her. Her head snapped back, eyes winced close, flaxen hair shimmering as her savage climax utterly possessed her. . . Nightwing watched in fascination as America's favorite darling of patriotism and purity, a girl who would never even say "darn" in public, lewdly spread her legs and shuddered in whorish bliss at the firestorm of pleasure which was now ravaging her tiny super-clit. The demon of pleasure between her naked thighs savaged her with the most exquisite excruciating sensations a superhuman clitoris could ever endure. . . Supergirl could only hang on for dear life as the enormity of the orgasm rocked her world. . . Her whole body shuddered as Knightwing watched from between her perfect pale naked thighs. The orgasm transported the pretty young heroine to a universe of total bliss, which swirled unerringly around the tiny spot between her legs. When it was all over, she looked down at him with dreamy eyes. . . and a weary but knowing smile.
Popping out the drive, Batgirl replaced it with the second portable drive.
As the static passed, she saw the numbers: "5, 4, 3, 2," . . . and "Justice League Footage: Part 3."
As the video footage materialized, the taped showed Wonder Woman, the famous Amazonian mystery woman, and a man that Batgirl did not recognize, stepping into a conference room at the Hall of Justice.
As soon as the door shut behind them, the man pulled Wonder Woman to him and kissed her passionately. The tall leggy Amazon seemed to give herself fully to the kiss, closing her eyes, and enjoying the feeling of being held in his arms.
"Oh no," Batgirl mused. "Not her too. Surely an Amazonian warrior can resist the Doctor's modified Poison Ivy gas."
As the kiss continued, their lips locked, and the man's hand slowly dipped to cup Wonder Woman's magnificent buttock in his left hand.
"Mmmmmmmmm..." was Wonder Woman's only response, as he cupped and squeezed the hefty orb of womanly flesh.
A moment later, his fingers slipped under the hem of her star-spangled panties, and pulled up, turning the demurely cut panties into a crude revealing makeshift thong. The action caused Wonder Woman's full naked left buttock to bounce dramatically into view, and into reach of the man's eager hand. Since no protest was offered, he repeated the procedure on the other side, completely revealing Wonder Woman's wondrous Amazonian buttocks. So far as America knew, no man had ever witnessed, let alone, groped these beauties.
As the man's hands slowly modeled and explored Wonder Woman's soft toned ass, the Amazonian begin to lubricate, even as she felt the man begin to harden against her. She loved the feeling of his hands on her naked ass, exploring her, possessing her, desiring her, . . .as a woman.
It was only then that she broke off the kiss. "We mustn't." The implications of our mating are too . . .
But he wouldn't let her finish. "I know," he responded gravely, but who said anything about mating. We can just have some fun.
Leading the Amazonian to a nearby table, he invited her to lie down on it, and then he lay down beside her. In seconds, their arms and legs intertwined, and his eager hands found her ass again, as she guided his face to her beckoning bosom. There, his cares melted away into her cleavage, as he drowned in the softness of her magnificent pale breasts. Within moments the front of his pants were grossly distended with the unmistakable outline of a prodigious stabbing erection.
Wonder Woman smiled coyly when she saw and felt the monstrosity. Gently easing his head away from her chest, Wonder Woman reached for the bulge, and gently stroked his massive erection through the fabric of his pants.
"Uuuuuunnnngghhhhh..." he moaned as she traced the outline of his erection with her pretty tapered fingers. Now they kissed again as he ground his erection against her leg, and shamelessly groped her ass.
"I need you, . . ." she whispered, and in response, he reached between her legs, and began to stroke the shiny smooth dark blue field of stars which adorned the front panel of her panties. Wonder Woman spread her famous thighs, to give him better access. As the man stroked Wonder Woman's long neglected pleasure center, the Amazon princess lay back and gave herself entirely over to the process, closing her eyes, and opening her mouth, as her brows knit in erotic excitement.
So far as anyone knew, no man had ever pleasured her before, and as he skillfully massaged her needy mound, the sensations were all more wonderful than she could have ever hoped.
In no time, her mound was sopping wet, and his fingers began making a squishing sound as he slowly fanned the flames of her fire.
"Unghh-hh- Ohh-hh - Ungh-hh," she cooed unapologetically, encouraging him greatly. Now her famous legs spread wider and her back arched, as she shamelessly wallowed in the ecstatic feelings.
As her back arched, her Amazonian breasts rose dramatically upward, pulling free of her brightly colored corset. The sight was impressive. The man had admired those breasts for years, but now, he would do what he had always imagined doing. He reached over, and grabbed a naked tit, mauling is shamelessly.
"Ohhhhhh-hh, . . .hh. I'm . . . sooooooo, . . . clooooooose. . . " the Amazonian gasped as she twisted and writhed sensuously on the table, her mind focused on the pleasure between her legs, and the wet sounds of her partner's fingers, stroking her feverish clit toward unbridled ecstasy.
He loved having her like this, the once proud untouchable Amazonian Princess writhing in abject ecstasy, her entire universe centered on the tiny locus of swirling pleasure where his fingers touched her between her legs. He'd never seen her like this before, aroused, writhing in excitement, sensual, needing him like never before, thinking of nothing but her own imminent selfish sexual release.
"Do you want to come, Diana?" he asked, not wanting to rush her. She gave no verbal response, but when their eyes met, the gaze that she gave him left no doubt as to her wishes.
Reaching inside the front panel of her star-spangled thong he slid his fingers into her well-honeyed slit, and slid them in clever ways at a speed that he suspected she might find pleasing.
In response, Wonder Woman's eyes glazed over in a thousand yard stare, her jaw hung slack, and her eyes began to roll up into her head. Tiny whimpery gasps escaped her pretty lips. The gasps turned into moaning grunts, as her pelvis thrust back hungrily against his busy fingers.
"Unghh-unghh-unghh-hh!" she groaned urgently, her body at the very brink. He thought of how pretty her ass was, and how he'd always wanted to have her like this.
Suddenly the man reached out with his free hand and grabbed the other impossibly soft white bulbous Amazonian tit. It was wonderful.
Wonder Woman came like no mortal woman has ever cum, as an infinite blast of pleasure emanated from between her legs. Just as Wonder Woman's strength and speed were a thousand times that of a normal mortal woman, so too, her climax exceeded all mortal understanding as heaven itself spilled out between her legs.
Diana's eyes winced closed and her mouth hung open in a silent scream as the most devastating sensations of her life ripped mercilessly through her body. The super-human force of the orgasm took her entirely by surprise, as she twisted and jerked about crazily in the throes of its awesome super-human fury. Never before has she imaged such bliss, as the power of Olympia itself seemed to shine forth from her point, like a divine beacon.
For his part, the man watched in amazement as the selfless Amazonian's crotch seemed to explode with an intensity of pleasure which was utterly unparalleled. After about 45 epic seconds of climactic Earth-shattering rapture, the utterly disheveled beauty finally seemed to be released from the grip of the savage orgasm, and was left to contemplate the sublime afterglow which now beamed so brightly within the tiny confines of her narrow grateful mound.
A quick glance at the man's lance-like bulge told Wonder Woman that her erotic display had inspired her partner to new heights of arousal. And so, rolling over on her side, she offered her body to him, to do as he pleased with her. Reaching back, she plucked the fabric of her panties out of the crack in her ass, and smoothed the fabric over the smooth rolling curves of her picturesque ass.
Not wasting a moment, the man sidled up behind Wonder Woman, and nestled his spike up into the gentle groove between Diana's ass cheeks.
How long he had admired her body, how long he had dreamed of seizing her ass in his hands and humping her shamelessly. Well, now the day had come. Reaching around, he began to grope her naked tits as his hips thrust his needy package against her ass and panties. It was wonderful.
Wonder Woman's whole statuesque body was incredible, but to the man, her ass was her best asset. Feeling the fullness of her perfect womanly ass against his hips, while his member thrust into the cleft of her star-spangled panties was amazing. And the warm/cool feeling of her massive floppy breasts in his hand only added to the moment. The only thing that would make this better would be--. . .
Reaching down, he freed his member from the front of his pants and allowed the super-sensitive skin of his member to slide eagerly against the full tempting rolling curves of her famous star-spangled panties.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she moaned as she felt the hot stiffness of him against her backside.
He was really doing it, he was really doing what every comic book fan boy dreamed of. He was humping Wonder Woman.
For a moment, he thought that he might shoot his jizz all over those famous star-spangled panties. Then, thinking twice, he again pulled the fabric of her panties up off of those marvelous ass cheeks, to again form a makeshift thong. (The guy was nothing if not insistent.) To thrust against those naked ass cheeks, the naked skin of her perfect orbs, it was sooooo much better. Nothing could be better than the underside of her soft naked ass.
Now Wonder Woman felt the urgency of his thrusting accelerate, and she braced for the inevitable.
A moment later, she felt him go rigid and stiffen, gripping her much more tightly as he uttered an unintelligible groan, "unngggghh!..." And with that ignominious sign, long hot ropes of viscous wet slime jetted out of him, utterly drenching Wonder Woman's ass with spurt after spurt of slimy oozy goozy semen.
Long ropes of jizz splattered copiously all over Wonder Woman's famous smooth shiny star-spangled panties, decorating her ass with long gooey lines of cum, like icing on hot cross buns. The cum spattered onto the full curves of her ass, and slowly oozed into the deep recessed cleft between her ass cheeks. Then the man slowly glided his oozing tool all over the full exposed curves of her wide womanly hips and naked exposed ass cheeks, til her cheeks were positively shiny with wet gooey clear cum. Wonder Woman made no attempt to escape, but rather wore the wet deposit as a badge of pride, for the impressive performance which her beauty had inspired.
Wonder Woman had inspired the most incredible orgasm of his life, the sheer intensity of the pleasure easily surpassing anything else that he'd ever experienced. When the worst of it was over, he collapsed, utterly spent, behind her, dozing off as he spooned her, their bodies joined by a small ocean of his slimy wet goo generously deposited all over her comely curvy bethonged Amazonian ass. It was perfect.
Together, they slipped off into sleep, as she held him like a vice between her soft womanly thighs.
As the video came to an end, Batgirl muttered. , "That skeevy slime. He sent me on this mission to make me watch my fellow crime-fighters in heat. What a scumbag. Now to find that Riddler Trophy. He said that it would be back in the Kinkaid Center."
Just then, Batgirl heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps running up the stairs of the guard tower. Pocketing the thumb drives in a pouch of her utility belt, she ran outside, and looks down to see who was approaching. It was a squad of Dr. Kink's goons, with Lefty leading the pack.
"Not good," Batgirl muttered under her breath. As they drew closer, Batgirl detonated the explosive gel that she had planted on the stairway, and then fired her line launcher back at the Kinkaid center, and made her getaway, as she gracefully zipped back across.
Bent over sharply at the waist, and tightly bound, the leggy curvaceous young woman in the sexy magician's costume was tightly gagged to prevent her from speaking a single word, let alone any backward-speaking spells. Nevertheless the girl's moaned and "mmmmphed" erotically through her gag.
The Joker stood proudly above and behind the tightly bound woman, openly admiring (even leering at) her wide-wide hips, well-developed curvy thighs and glutes, shiny black panties, and alluring fishnet stockings. There was nothing wrong with this scene. Bent over as she was, the wide expanse of her womanly hips, thick thighs, and abundant buttocks was a remarkably pleasing sight.
Quickly unzipping, and sidling up behind the magical heroine, the Joker nuzzled her tempting backside at length, then promptly skewered her, and plunged into the wet slick tight depths of her.
The full roundness of her fishnet glutes was remarkable, as was the juicy-slick confines of her tightly gripping core. Gripping her pliant hips, the Joker enjoyed the way the flesh at her hips dimpled under the pressure of his fingertips. Now he used his grasp to better leverage the jack-hammer assault of his hips as he tapped her quivering wobbling fishnet ass. The pleasing whimpers of ecstasy warbling through her gag betrayed the beautiful young magician's own heightened state of arousal, and suggested that no last minute "miraculous escape" from her bindings was likely. But perhaps an "escape" of a very different sort was quite imminent. And so it was that after very little time, the Joker emptied himself into the very depths of her. . . just as the beautiful young magician/clown girl, shuddered in a powerful release of her own.
As Batgirl landed back in the Kinkaid Center, she peeked stealthily into the hallway, then stepping carefully out into the hallway, she switched to Detective Mode, to aid her search for the Riddler Trophy.
As she conducted a careful room by room search, her Detective Mode revealed 6 armed goons just around the corner. But a quick scan of the area also revealed a ventilation grate. Slipping into the grate, she crawled through the ductwork, and bypassed the goons. After a circuitous route, she slipped out into an unoccupied corridor. Now to find that trophy . . .
But as she rounded the next corner, Batgirl heard more orderlies, . . . coming her way. Spying a nearby floor grate, Batgirl quickly pried it open and slipped down in, quickly closing the grate down over her head. Moments later, the orderlies stomped heavily overhead. But as the dominoed daredoll waited for them to pass, crouched down in the crawlspace, Batgirl spotted, . . . a Riddler Trophy, hidden right there in the crawlspace with her.
"Gotcha!" she whispered. Then with an air of satisfaction, Batgirl picked up the heavy metal trophy to listen to the pre-recorded message, --
"FSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSST!" There was no pre-recorded message, as a cloud of bright green misty gas jetted directly into Batgirl's face. Reflexively, she gasp, inhaling a healthy dose of the unknown substance. For a moment she coughed and sputtered, but when she opened her eyes, her vision wouldn't clear. Everything was blurry, out of focus, double-vision. She was dizzy. A moment later, she dropped the trophy, as her svelte curvy figure collapsed in the floor crawlspace, unconscious. . .
A moment later, the discarded trophy played a pre-recorded message. "Ah, ha-ha!" the Riddler's pompous voice began, "Now little miss Batgirl, I told you that the next trophy would bring you a treat! Now you get to see what the treat is. . ."
Seconds later, the Riddler, complete in his stunning green tights strode down the corridor to the exact floor grate where Batgirl lay helpless and unconscious. But the Riddler was not alone. He was flanked by his two beautiful assistants, a blonde: Deidre Vance (a.k.a. Query) and a brunette: Nina Damfino, (a.k.a. Echo.)
The leggy henchwomen were decked out in sexy green leotards that were cut oh-so-high on the hips, to better reveal the showy fishnet stockings that they wore. The fishnets did wonders to show off their deliciously shapely curvaceous legs, marvelously developed hips, and nicely rounded buttocks.
As Echo pulled back the floor grate to reveal Batgirl, the Riddler towered over the sexy crime-fighter's slumbering form. He feigned surprise as he looked down through the floor-grate to spot Batgirl, looking quite innocent and helpless, curled up fast asleep.
"Oh! There she is! Oh, what a pretty little peach! Y'know its true what they say. Men can't resist the sight of a sleeping woman, especially one as HOT as Batgirl. She looks so innocent and peaceful down there, doesn't she? It just makes you want to FUCK her, doesn't it? Get her out of there, girls!"
Snapping to it, Query and Echo popped open the floor grate and carefully pulled out Batgirl's lovely sleeping form. Throwing her arms over their shoulders, the two henchwomen held Batgirl upright between them, so that the Riddler could take a good look at her. Batgirl's head hung heavily on her chest as the Riddler conducted his inspection.
"She's got a pretty good bod, Boss," Echo began.
"I think we could have a lot of fun with her," Query finished.
"Yes, . . . Indeed we shall, my dear. Indeed we shall, . . . but first, . . . let's take inventory. Let's see, slender waist, nice swell of the hips . . . very nice, dancer's legs, . . . no, gymnast's legs . . .excellent thighs, a very tight "V," pendulous breasts . . .not bad. Turn her around."
Shuffling around, the two henchwomen turned Batgirl around, affording the Riddler a proper chance to check out Batgirl's ass, as well as those of his henchwomen.
Standing there, assessing all three of their spectacular asses, the Riddler took a moment to enjoy his role as a super-villain, surrounded by beautiful available henchwomen and captive heroines. It was a good gig.
"Bring her along girl's," the Riddler began, "I'm feelin' frisky!"
Experiment #9 - The Riddler
When Batgirl opened her eyes, her mind was still addled from the gas. Time flowed strangely. Everything still seemed sketchy, . . . disconnected.
The Riddler was sitting on the floor between his two henchwomen. He had one hand in each of their laps. The Riddler used one hand on each of the villainesses, rubbing the pointed triangular mounds at the front of their green leotards quickly, as both henchwomen squirmed luridly, their fishnet legs spread wide. The looks on their faces becoming gradually more and more distant, as evidence of the fact that the Riddler's ministrations were slowly transporting both women to a far more lovely universe.
Now their eyes closed in concentration, their mouths hung slack-jawed and open, and their breath can in short desperate gasps as they neared their release. The Riddler gave no quarter, and soon both girls came in unison.
Now Echo collapsed on the floor, utterly useless, spent in exhaustion from cumming.
The Riddler shamelessly pawed her legs and fishnet leggings as well as her generously rounded upturned fishnet ass, as though the girl was little more than a deluxe throw cushion.
"But Riddler, . . . you promised me," Query begged childishly.
"So I did, my dear. . . so I did," the Riddler responded, as he directed Query to get onto her hands and knees. Approaching her from behind, the Riddler clutched her thonged fishnet ass possessively.
As the Riddler eased his stiff dick into and them out of Query's slick hot womanhood doggy style, he groaned incoherently. The slick grip of her cunt, and the view of her pretty thong and fishnet ass inspired him immensely. He was as hard as a steel spike. His "steely resolve" caused Query to moan in appreciation, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Riddler. . ."
A series of strange expressions swept over the Riddler's face as he emptied himself into Query's tight gripping, fish-net covered ass. Then pulling out, he shot the rest of his lode all over her pretty fishnet ass. . . Afterwards he tapped and clubbed her shapely quivery ass with his spent rod.
Batgirl sat on the floor of her cell, bound with her arms behind her back, watching the erotic scene with mixed feelings. It was undeniably an intriguing erotic scene, but it was not one that she had asked to see.
After the Riddler extricated himself from Query, he cleaned himself up and then approached Batgirl.
Bound and helpless as she was, in her pretty little tights, Batgirl painted quite a pretty picture.
"Finally, Batgirl, you and your pretty little thong are mine!" the Riddler quipped, as he towered over her, brandishing his signature Question-Mark Cane.
"Riddle me this, Batgirl. . . What has pointy ears, a tiny little thong, and cums whenever I want? . . . "
"Answer, . . . YOU, Batgirl! Hahahahahahahahah!
"Do you see this device, my dear?" He held out a leather and metal collar in his hands.
"Of course, it's a Stun Collar," Batgirl answered.
"Exactly, my dear. It is fastened 'round the necks of particularly disruptive or violent patients, so that a mild, . . . or not-so-mild electric shock can be administered by qualified medical or security personnel, using a simple remote control device. The idea is to use it as a humane or . . . not-so-humane, way to discipline unruly inmates."
"Well, the brilliant Dr. Kink and I have worked together to modify this device to be a . . . much more sophisticated tool. Now, this device can tap directly into the transmissions of the wearer's spinal cord, delivering any one of a number of different responses: pleasure, pain, unconsciousness, drowsiness, . . It's really the ultimate tool for any kind of Pavlovian experiments. But of all the responses which the device can elicit, do you know which one intrigues me the most? . . . Let's find out. Put it on her, girls!"
Echo and Query pulled themselves up from the stupor of their afterglow. As they walked over and snapped the collar onto the struggling Batgirl's neck, the Riddler prattled on.
"No this isn't science fiction, Batgirl. Actual legitimate scientists, did most of the ground-breaking work that led to our little creation. They developed technology to help elicit sexual responses in people who were having trouble achieving sexual pleasure. But Dr. Kink and I thought it would be fun to use a modified form of this same technology on people whose sexual responses were just fine. We just think it would be fun to have them cum, at the push of a button . . . whenever we want. Ahoo-hoo-hoo! Is she ready, girls?"
"She's as ready as she'll ever be, boss," Query replied.
Flipping a large metal switch on the bulky remote control box, the Riddler turned on the device, causing a large red light to come on, showing that the unit was active.
Now, we'll just turn it up to level 5.
It was the strangest sensation, as Batgirl suddenly, instantly felt somewhat aroused, like she'd just seen a steamy movie, or suddenly just gotten into the mood. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was quite noticeable.
The look on her face must have betrayed her emotions, for the Riddler, Query, and Echo all laughed at her understandable response.
"It works fast, as you can see, Batgirl. We've found that it works best if you work your way up gradually from the mid-range settings, . . . to the dangerously high settings."
"Put it up to 6, Riddler," Query suggested. When Dr. Kink had given him the device, the Riddler had tested the unit repeatedly on his henchwomen, so they were now both big fans of the collar.
"How about 7," the Riddler glowered mischievously. There was a low hum (like that of an electrical transformer) as the power level rose. "VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV!"
Still groggy in her delirium, tightly bound, and outnumbered, Batgirl had few options as the collar transmitted ever more intense sensations to the pleasure centers of her brain. It felt strange that no one and nothing was touching her between the legs, but the sensations were nevertheless, very real.
Now Batgirl felt herself leaning back slightly, and giving herself over to the pleasure.
The feeling between her legs was just too good to resist.
As the Riddler, Query, and Echo looked on with lurid fascination, Batgirl's breathing quickened. She closed her eyes reflexively, and began panting . . . gasping. . . in response to the sensation.
"Mmmm-hh!" a faint whimper involuntarily escaped Batgirl's lips as the knob turned past 9. Her tiny little mound had never been happier. It positively glowed with sensations.
Batgirl wasn't sure that she could cum with 3 people standing there, watching her, but as the sensations intensified, she wasn't entirely sure that she couldn't either. She kept her eyes closed, so she wouldn't have to look at the Riddler and his leggy henchwoman.
As the smoldering sensations grew more and more concentrated, Batgirl wanted someone to hold her ass, someone to kiss, someone to caress her shapely legs. But as she rolled over on her side, the Riddler certainly did drink in a good long look at her thonged ass, and the dark "almond shape" where her mound peeked between her thighs and buttocks.
Batgirl was thrusting slowly, involuntarily now, biting her lip, licking her lips. . .
"Mmmmmm--Nnnnnnn-Mmmmmm-hhhh--" she moaned as he fanned the flames of her pleasure higher.
Now her moans rose in pitch and tempo, as her need became more acute. She was almost there. --So close. "I need to cum, I need to cum, I need to cum," was all she could think. Gasping, panting. She wriggled sensuously on the floor, grinding her hips, writhing her thighs so that they pressed against her mound. She leaned deeper and deeper into the moment, thrusting. . .
Now he throws the control know to maximum (15) and frantically flips all the bonus auxiliary power switches. "Flip, click, flip, click!"
"UNGHH-ACCKKKKKK!--" Pleasure lanced through Batgirl's clitoris like a sharp spear, then spread through her body like an egg cracked over a plate. The fierce piercing pleasure combined with the warm glow was incomparable as she quaked and jerked spastically, utterly shamelessly lost in her shameful carnal bliss, as the Riddler grinned maniacally, and his henchbabes started to get turned on again, watching the red-haired beauty succumb to so forceful a climax.
Finally the pretty young Batgirl rolled over onto her front, one knee raised up toward her face, quivering, knowing that her ass was wobbling. . . as her captors gaped.
"Gosh, boss!" Echo complains. "15? You've never gone all the way to 15 with us. . ."
Batgirl's clitoris and mound had never been so happy. She glowed all over, but the warm fire between her legs glowed most brightly. As she lay sprawled out on the floor, she was strangely comfortable, and utterly unwilling to move as she eased into the warm embrace of her afterglow, occasionally tensing and bucking as the guilty afterquakes took her.
The Riddler looks on, glowering at her, grinning in satisfaction, realizing that he could do this to Batman's greatest apprentice, whenever he wanted to, without ever laying a hand on her. . .
Now as Query and Echo begin to caress her prone spent body, even her inner thighs and buttocks, Batgirl doesn't even mind. . .
Experiment #10 Frosty Breath
Batgirl awoke in a dimly lit chamber. It was cold, . . . very cold.
Glancing around, she quickly recognized the familiar location. Ice shards 6 feet tall jutted from the floor, while icy stalactites hung ominously from the ceiling. She was in Arkham Penitentiary, just outside of the cell of the infamous Dr. Victor Fries, . . . Mr. Freeze.
Her efforts to step away from the frosty scene were hampered however, as Batgirl found herself bound in an upright spread eagle position, her wrists and ankles utterly buried in ice formations.
Batgirl pulled vigorously on her bindings, hoping that they would crack and fissure under the stress, but the ice held solid.
Batgirl could see her own breath, white and frosty as she panted in exertion. She was stuck and firmly affixed by the ice. Glancing around, she surveyed her position.
She noticed that her nipples were stiffened and alluringly erect from the cold. She was embarrassed by the way her nipples stood out, so clearly and obviously evident through the thin fabric of her gray tights, especially in her bound spread-eagle position, but there was little or nothing that she could do about it.
That's when Harley Quinn stepped from the shadows, her voice echoing in the cavernous room, "Hey B-girl!"
Harley was wearing the outfit that she had begun wearing back in Arkham City: red and black leather hip-huggers, a showy corset, and a shiny black collar around her slender neck.
"Wow, look at those!" she called out insensitively as she spotted Batgirl's firmly erect nipples. Stepping up close to the ice-bound heroine, she openly gaped at the tiny erect forms, looking back and forth between them, then she flicked each one of them with her fingers, making the tiny buds strain even further.
"Awwwwwww, don't be embarrassed!" Harley said, trying (quite ineffectively) to allay Batgirl's self-consciousness at the awkward situation, "It's just us girls! My nipples are erect too. You just can't see 'em cause my top's made outta leather."
Batgirl tried to take some small comfort from Harley's odd but well-meaning comments, but she was still embarrassed at being so exposed.
"C'mon Harley, what's Dr. Kinkaid up to anyway? Why are you free to run throughout Arkham?" Batgirl inquired, trying to pump some information from the dim-witted villainess.
"Yeah, Dr. K lets Ivy and Dr. Crane and me (and a couple of the others) have some extra privileges while we're in here, in Arkham. He don't let us go completely free, but it's kind of better that bein' scott free, because this way Ivy and Dr. Crane can do their experiments and the Riddler can kinda work from the 'inside' without ever having to worry about B-man and the cops bein' on their tails all the time. Plus Dr. K always seems to have interesting experiments going on. You know, . . . with sexy stuff and all."
"I know, but what's it all for? What's his end game?" Batgirl prodded.
"Awwww no. I'm not tellin' you about Dr. K's big plan. Come to think of it I'm not even sure I know what it is."
The thought of all these villains working from the inside, chills Batgirl to the bone.
"Anyway, that reminds me," Harley prattles on, "Dr. K says that in order to save the next building full o' people, I gotta get you off with this gizmo!" She speaks sheepishly, brandishing a brand new vibrator. "Don't worry B-girl, I'll be nice. But just for the record, I'm not pushin' myself on you, right? I mean, you're up for saving the building, right? Cause I don't want B-Man comin' down on me cause I forced this on you or somethin'..."
Batgirl's mind reeled at the prospect of having Harley bring her off with a vibrator, but there certainly could have been worse scenarios that Kink could have concocted. Slowly, Batgirl nods in acquiescence.
"ALLLLLLLLLLL RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!" Harley cheered inappropriately, when she saw Batgirl's decision, but she was genuinely jazzed as the prospect of making Batgirl cum.
"Now don't worry, . . . I not going to just go all hot and heavy on ya' right away. I know how it is. A girl likes to be warmed up a little first, am I right?"
Now Harley put down the vibrator, and began giving Batgirl a little massage, touching Batgirl all over.
"This'll warm you up, . . . in more than one way, if you know what I mean," she said with a wink.
Batgirl's breath frosts again, as she feels the hands of her nemesis begin to touch her, rubbing and massaging her sensitive body. At first she has to look away, to hide the feeling, to detach, but soon she finds Harley's touch to be surprisingly delicate, authoritative, confident, skilled, gentle even . . . caring.
Harley isn't shy about where she touches. Her hands run up the entire length of Batgirl's long shapely legs, with only the thinnest layer of gray Lycra separating them. It feels better than Batgirl would like to admit.
"There, that's nice isn't it? That's just the way that I like it too," Harley explained.
Batgirl is surprised to find herself not entirely repulsed, enjoying Harley's massage. She actually has a pretty gentle touch, and works Batgirl's muscles with skill and finesse.
Then after several minutes of soothing massage, Harley starts to become more daring. The chatty clown girl is suddenly quiet as she starts to go into Batgirl's more erogenous zones, kneading and stroking Batgirl's inner thighs.
Batgirl's frosty breath flutters, as she feels an unwanted pang of desire in the mound between her legs, just inches from Harley's skilled and busy hands.
It's not long before Batgirl begins to . . . moisten, her bud coming to attention.
Reaching around behind Batgirl, Harley fondles the bound crime-fighter's buttocks, no longer really trying to get Batgirl aroused, she finds the fleshy forms legitimately exciting herself.
"Wow! Those are nice!" she offers crassly. She bounces them in her hands for quite a long time. Batgirl looks away distractedly. She's trying to fight down a strange mixture of embarrassment and arousal growing in her young body. Maybe if she doesn't acknowledge the feelings, they'll go away, she hopes. She tries to think clean thoughts, . . . but it's no use. She's not used to having anyone handle her buttocks at all, let alone so forwardly, let alone . . . a woman. The pang between her legs intensifies to alarming levels. She hopes against hope that Harley doesn't notice.
Now Harley rises, and her massage drifts to Batgirl's rib cage. And eventually to her already erect breasts.
The faintest "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. . . ," escapes Batgirl as Harley does her breasts.
At last their eyes make contact, Batgirl nervously trying to hide her arousal, Harley clearly seeing through the subterfuge, and grinning in delight at the way she's quickly aroused Batgirl's hot ready body, as she fondles Batgirl's highly coveted pointed jutting breasts.
"OK, I think we're ready for the main event," Harley finally declares.
Stepping briefly away and reaching down into a red and black bag, she pulls out a vibrator wrapped in a plastic bag. "Now I got a brand new one just for you."
Batgirl braces herself for what's coming.
Running the vibrator slowly up the inside of Batgirl's leg, Harley teases the bound heroine with slow sensual sensations. Then, without warning she turns off the vibrator, and stops.
"Sorry, B-Girl, I got my own needs to deal with." Now kneeling down, Harley spreads her knees, leans back on her heels, and starts rubbing herself with her fingers, right through her tight red and black leather pants. The clown girl closes her eyes turns her head to one side. Her mouth hanging open, as her fingers move like hummingbird wings, quickly becoming a blur. Her body stretches out as she pleasures herself.
Batgirl watches in fascination, she's never seen anyone masturbate before. She notices the way that Harley's mouth opens wider as the pleasure intensifies. She notices the little flickering changes in Harley's eyebrows as the pleasure levels fluctuate rapidly. Eventually her fingers stop.
Harley unfastens the large buckle at the front of her pants and dips her fingers in the front. She looks up at Batgirl, embarrassed and defensive for a moment. "It's easier this way," she explains. Again her head turns to one side, eyes closed in concentration, mouth hanging open in arousal. Clearly, the sensations are more intense with the layers of clothing out of the way. The delicate turn of Harley's neck is quite beautiful. As Batgirl watches with strange fascination, she wonders how such a pretty smart athletic young girl would ever get her life so utterly screwed up as to fall in love with the Joker.
Lost in the throes of her own burgeoning orgasm, the girl's innocence and beauty are striking. Now her teeth begin to bare, gritted in concentration, as she works herself rapidly up into a lather. Occasionally
she steals a glance at Batgirl's bound prone body to further inspire her lust, as the bites her lip. Then again, she closed her eyes, to better concentrate on the soaring sensations. Harley's hips, leaned back as she is, are in a very suggestive position. Now her hips begin slowly thrusting, or bucking, against her busy fingers.
As her fingers whip her back into a frenzy she continues to steal glances at Batgirl's sexy prone body, biting her lip as she does so. Then, with the image of a bound and helpless Batgirl locked in her mind's eye, she closes her eyes in concentration, slack-jawed at the pleasure raging between her legs.
As Harley's pleasure and expressions intensify, her body stiffens with tension. Batgirl can see, that she's teetering on the very brink of ecstasy. Harley gasps, her breath fluttering, in desperate gasps. Suddenly, her sexy body shudders with a raging intensity, as a ferocious orgasm seizes the young villainess, the tremors of the orgasm shudder throughout her body. She shivers in sheer ecstasy. There is no mistaking the brutality of her clitoral rapture. She is clearly lost in the kaleidoscope of pleasure swirling between her legs. Batgirl reluctantly enjoys the lurid scene as the otherworldly pleasures ravage and devastate the clown-girl's groin.
After a little while, the raging storm slowly passes and recedes, and Harley slowly returns to reality, slowly sensuously licking her lips which had dried during her heavy breathing.
Reluctantly, Harley rises to her feet, her legs still wobbly from her orgasm.
"Wow! You really inspired me, B-girl. . ." she said, still a little out of breath. "Now let's see if we can save the city. I ain't never saved anybody before. This might be fun!"
Now as Batgirl's body tenses, Harley returns to rubbing the vibrator all over Batgirl's body.
After a long roaming path, the vibrator finds its inevitable destination.
As the roaming device finally finds its mark, Batgirl braces as wave after wave of unwanted, but nevertheless incredible, sensations. Her defenseless clitoris surrenders utterly to the continual stimulation.
"Is that where you like it?"
Batgirl is too lost in the sensations to respond, helpless, the pleasure flooding her body. But the desperate gurgle that escapes her throat is enough to let Harley know that her location is "spot-on."
Batgirl's head flies back, her eyes are winced closed, her brows knit, her mouth open in desperate supplication. Her breath flutters. . .
There is nothing Batgirl can do. Her legs are spread wide by the binding ice. Her arms are likewise pinned. The ice cracks and crazes under the pressure of her straining muscles, but it is far from giving way. The vibrations continue to hammer home on their sweet tender target.
Even if she wanted to fight the sensations, (and she doesn't) she wouldn't be able to. The vibrations are too strong, and a building full of innocent citizens are counting on her.
Her mound moistens under the unrelenting assault of vibrations continue. Her eyes cross. Her jaw is slack. It all feels sooooooooooooooooooo good. While Batgirl is only submitting to save the building full of Gothamites, she is secretly grateful that it is now her turn for a release . . . as the pleasure soars to sweet delirious intensity.
Harley seems to know just what she's doing. The placement is spot-on, and utterly relentless, as she holds the vibrator on Batgirl's clit and outer lips, giving the bound Batgirl no quarter, . . . no respite. It's too much. . .
A series of telling tremors, nods, twitches, and knowing glances betray Batgirl's slow ascension through the various phases of arousal, as her tiny clitoris soars toward its inevitable release.
Involuntarily, but quite visibly, Batgirl's pelvis begins to thrust against the heavenly vibrator head. Her sopping needy mound needs more. . .
Harley watches is blissful fascination and utter satisfaction as the incomparably sexy Batgirl throws her head back, and drools, her mouth wide open, wallowing in the crescendo of blissful carnal sensations.
Batgirl's breathing becums irregular, degenerating into a series of desperate gasps and flutters, as the pleasure in her mound becomes incredible, . . . unbearable. . . intolerable, . . . inhuman.
Finally, it's all too much Batgirl cums, the climax of a lifetime!
The climax racks Batgirl's body and rocks her world, as its explosive rapture savagely detonates in her clitoris.
For a moment there is nothing but bliss. . . hot, wet, explosive raging bliss. . . release. . .
The vortex of ecstasy in her defenseless mound is unimaginable.
Harley looks on, as Gotham's bastion of virtue shudders violently in the shameless tremors of an incredible orgasm. But even as Batgirl cums hard, Harley holds the vibrator in place, grinding away at Batgirl's defenseless clit, driving her to unknown heights of intensity, as a gush of liquid explodes from Batgirl's defeated and surrendering groin.
The orgasm transports Batgirl to a world of savage raging bliss. She submits to it fully. There is nothing left to hold back. Her body jerks wildly, her head snaps back and forth. . .
Even in the throes of this incredibly debasing event, the bound heroine somehow maintains her beauty, at least in Harley's eyes. Harley's never seen anyone cum this hard. To her, it is a thing of beauty.
After a long savage surrender, the intensity of the rapture slowly, . . . gradually ebbs.
A large wet spot on Batgirl's tights now confirms what Harley already knows, the legitimacy of Batgirl's cum. But as the smitten heroine hangs limp and loose in her bindings, a prisoner to her smoldering afterglow, there can be little doubt as to the fact that she has passed the trial and saved the civilians in the rigged skyscraper.
Afterwards BG slow calms down, now soaking in both afterglow and a healthy dose of shame.
"WOW!" Harley interjects. "That was hot!" Batgirl tried to maintain a straight face, but she was utterly disarmed by her rapture. The pleasure, even now, really was profound, and her body gratefully basked in the much needed afterglow.
Soon looking down at the goofy grinning clown girl who has just so thoroughly rocked her world, she finds that she cannot keep a straight face. Huffing and puffing the misty air, both girls suddenly start to laugh.
After a short shared moment, Harley's expression sobered up. "Y'know, Batgirl, there's somethin' I've always wanted to tell you." She hesitates, then walking over to Batgirl, she whispers something into her ear, and then steps back.
With that off of the way, Harley continues, "Sorry B-girl I ain't got nothin' against you, I guess. But Dr. K made it real clear that you had to end this experiment out cold., . . . . so. . . "
She produces a trick flower.
"Harley, no! We've got to end this madness. I--" Batgirl tries to interject, but--
Batgirl sputters and coughs, then the sleep gas overwhelms her, and she hangs limp and utterly helpless in her icy bindings, as Harley gloats at the dozing crime fighter's tempting body, her proud nipples still firmly and alluringly erect. . .
Batgirl had only a vague recollection of being moved. She had been picked up under her shoulders by one figure, and under the knees by another, and unceremoniously carried an unknown distance. Hanging there, helpless in their grip, her hips hanging low, swinging from side to side, she felt undeniably sexy and desired.
Laid on another examination table, she had been stretched out on her back, sighing in submission, as a dark figure loomed menacingly over her. His black eyes gaze down at her with lurid intensity, taking in the full length of her tempting tightly-clad form. His hands extend menacingly out over her, as if he is ready to grope her impressive jutting Lycra-clad breasts. Batgirl coos and sighs oblivious to his nearness, and unaware that a sharp hypodermic needle has been strapped to each and every one of his fingers, the points of which are now menacingly close to the supple flesh of her ripe upward-jutting tits.
Presently, he points the tip of his sharply finger down at her, and a hypodermic needle pierced her perfect plump breast, injecting her with an unknown substance.
The reclined Batgirl winces for a moment from the pain, her sexy tapered thighs scissoring, but she quickly recovers as the needle is withdrawn.
When next Batgirl opened her eyes, she found herself with Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, and Catwoman, all strung up, with their wrists high over their heads. "Catwoman?" Batgirl thought, "where did she come from? She isn't an inmate at Arkham."
As they hung there, Dr. Kink was lecturing his female captives as he strode around them, slowly pacing back and forth, admiring their trussed up bodies.
As he walked in front of them, he pulled out a large dart pistol. " . . . This tranq dart, for instance, is one of my own design. The concoction inside the dart will put you to sleep at first, but its main job is to accelerate your sex drive by at least a factor of 1000."
"You wouldn't!" Catwoman exclaimed. But a second later, her protest was overruled as he strode behind her, and fired two large darts into her wide womanly ass, one dart in each buttock. "K-THWAP! K-THWAP!!" There was nothing she could do but wince as the tranq fluid drained into her body. A moment later her sexy body relaxed, and her eyelids began to droop.
"You see, you'll all be much more effective test subjects under the influence of my latest arousal serum," he continued as he fired two more darts, . . . this time into Harley's ass. "K-THWAP! K-THWAP!!"
"Oh drat," Harley protested half-heartedly. "My sex drive was already outta control before the darts. Now what'll I do?" Then she fell silent.
"And two for Batgirl, . . . K-THWAP! K-THWAP!! Mmmm. . . make that four for Batgirl. She's got a lot of puritanical Bat-willpower and inhibitions to overcome: K-THWAP! K-THWAP!!" Her bottom truly was the fullest, the shapeliest, and most tempting of them all. Now pin-cushioned as it was with arousal darts, it was all the lovelier.
Finally, as he stood behind Poison Ivy, the green beauty protested the most vociferously. "Doctor, you can't do this. I'm not, . . . entirely human like the others, I'm mostly plant. Mating your way is such an . . . animal thing to do." the winced in disgust as the said the word, "animal."
"Nevertheless my dear," Dr. Kink began, "you are arguably the most beautiful woman in Gotham City. It's not natural or healthy for you to be completely asexual. After all, even plants are sexual beings, are they not? This little dose will help you explore the more sexual side of your personality. . . K-THWACK! K-THWAP!!"
Ivy winced sharply as the twin darts pierced her perfect backside. "Kink, you fool!" she cried out as the drugs drained into her body. Then she fell limp. Now the Doctor took a moment to review his handiwork, as all four sexy women hung limp in their bindings, their tushes each nicely punctuated with darts still protruding from their shapely defenseless buttocks.
Experiment #11 The Bottom Line
Batgirl awoke to find herself in a strange position, stretched out face down across someone's lap. Batgirl's hands were securely bound in her own Bat-cuffs, and those cuffs in turn were tethered to a large metal ring anchored in the cement floor. Her ankles likewise were bound with heavy duty manacles usually reserved for Arkham's most dangerous violent inmates. And those were similarly hooked to a large metal ring coming out of the floor. The bindings left her positioned so that her wide plump womanly bottom was rather prominently and awkwardly on display for whose ever lap it was that she was stretched across.
"There, there, my dear, . . . " the sultry voice began. "I must say, you have a purrrfectly purrfect derriere." As the voice spoke, confident female hands settled on the raised flanks of Batgirl's attention-getting rump, cupping and squeezing them affectionately. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed what Batgirl already knew. She was stretched across the lap of the one and only Selina Kyle, . . . Catwoman. Dressed in a revealing gray unitard, sleek black boots, and elbow length gloves, Catwoman was as slinky and sexy a woman as ever graced the rooftops of Gotham.
Reflexively Batgirl began to tug on her bindings, testing them.
"There, there, my dear, I wouldn't be in too big of a rush to escape me. Dr. Kink specifically mentioned that your escaping would be grounds for detonating a highly populated building in downtown Gotham.
Batgirl's struggles instantly ceased.
"Catwoman, I can't believe that you're tied up in all of this madness with Dr. Kink!"
"I'm not my dear. I'm as helpless a victim in all of this as you are. Remember, I got injected with that lady Viagra potion, the same as you. But when the good doctor told me that all I had to do was to give you a good spanking in order to save a few thousand lives, . . . well, needless to say, . . . it really brought out the do-gooder in me." Her smarmy sultry voice was dripping with irony and sarcasm. Catwoman was clearly enjoying the task that was set before her.
"You see, Batgirl," she continued, her gloved hands sensuously rubbing and stroking Batgirl's prominent upturned buttocks, "the bottom line is, I'm willing to do what it takes to save lives, . . . and so are you." With that she began to sensuously smooth her hands all over Batgirl's generously full plump flanks, and down between her thighs. There was nothing coy or subtle about the way her hands moved, she was openly taking advantage of the rare opportunity to grope and stroke Batgirl's body to her naughty heart's delight.
Having another woman's hands on her bottom was thoroughly distracting, . . . but not entirely unpleasant for Batgirl. Catwoman's knowledgeable hands clearly knew what they were doing. Batgirl hated being so vulnerable, so exposed, but there was nothing she could do about it. The backs of Batgirl's thighs were particularly sensitive to being touched, and in short order Catwoman's skillful hands had begun to whip Batgirl into a bit of a lather.
"Now, let's see what we have here," Catwoman continued. Seizing the elastic waistband on Batgirl's gray costume, she pulled downward, slowly peeling Batgirl's sleek tights off of her hips she drew the thin fabric down, revealing the pale naked skin of her plump exposed buttocks, and a tiny black revealing thong.
"Oh, my my, Batgirl, . . . you really shouldn't keep this all covered up," she purred. Pulling the tights down to Batgirl's knees, she left the trussed up heroine even more . . . exposed.
"Catwoman!" Batgirl protested, but Catwoman's lusty green eyes were already devouring the tempting vision before her, and her eager hands cruised over Batgirl's hyper-sensitive waiting skin.
"Don't blame me, honey," Catwoman retorted, "I'm not even into chicks. But that injection seems to have opened me up to, shall we say, . . . new possibilities." And with that, her hand came crashing down on Batgirl's defenseless rump.
"SMACK!!" The impact sent Batgirl's ripe buttocks quivering wildly.
"SMACK!!" The second impact was harder than the first.
Again and again the blows fell, and Batgirl yelped at each incoming impact.
Catwoman, for her part, relished her role as the dominant inflictor, relentlessly spanking Batgirl exposed quivering jiggling flanks. She savored each and every delicious yelp from her prone companion. The intense scene quickly began to stir Catwoman's own fires. Occasionally, her hand would dip down to Batgirl's chest, and sample and plup her young ripe down-hanging breasts.
At first Batgirl yelped at each incoming impact, then with time, she fell silent as the pain in her backside was joined by a strange unexpected sensation between her legs. Smoldering at first, then burning brighter, the unwanted sensation of pleasure began to grow in Batgirl's consciousness. Somehow each painful blow fanned the flames of her desire higher, until the pain receded into numbness, and pleasure began to surpass all other feelings.
Now Batgirl's yelps were replaced with whimpers of delight as the mysterious sensations rose toward a triumphal breaking point. As the pleasure swelled, Batgirl wriggled her hips, urging the pleasure onward, even as she did her best to hide the guilty feelings from her tormentor. "Ow! Ouch!" she would complain, nervously trying to disguise her growing arousal from the more experienced Catwoman.
But little got past Catwoman's perceptive senses. Sensing Batgirl's growing desire, by the submissive tone of her whimpers, and the wriggle of her delightful buttocks, Catwoman goaded Batgirl on. "There, there, my dear, it's alright. You should enjoy those . . . smoldering feelings. Don't fight them."
Batgirl turned red with embarrassment, but she was relieved that she no longer had to carry on with the feebly ineffective deception. Now she was free squirm and wriggle and whine in open acknowledgement of her intensely aroused state.
"Oh God! Yeah-hh!" Batgirl moaned openly.
But as intense as the sensations were, somehow they were never quite enough to drive her over the edge. Now Batgirl was tormented on the edge of her ecstasy. Together, she and Catwoman both did their best to take her over the edge. Catwoman sensuously stroked and groped Batgirl's rump, thighs, and breasts, but as fantastic as that felt, it just wasn't enough.
At last, Catwoman decided to take matters into her own capable hands, "Here, let me help you," she offered. Then reaching down between Batgirl's sexy thighs, she used two fingers to massage Batgirl's sopping wet mound, through the damp fabric of her thong.
Batgirl was shocked by the directness of Catwoman's gesture, but she was far too desperate for release to complain about the heavenly sensations that her tormentor's fingers were engendering.
Massaging the wet needy mound, Catwoman can feel wet squishing sensations as Batgirl's clit soars in excitement.
"Oh GAWWWWWWWWWWWWD!!!!!!!. . . ." Batgirl moans openly, closing her eyes, to better concentrate on the skyrocketing sensations. Batgirl wriggles her pelvis desperately as Catwoman's fingers work their magic, leaving Batgirl panting on the very verge of oblivious.
"Oh-hh GOD!! YESS-hh!!" Batgirl gasps-- sooo close.
But Catwoman's fingers keep working over Batgirl's defenseless pussy. Somehow she's found her sub's clit, and now she's working it over with the skill of a master, . . . or mistress.
Suddenly, it's enough, and Batgirl is sent reeling over the edge.
The orgasm of a lifetime erupts between Batgirl's legs, vaporizing her mind.
Catwoman looks on as she sees her efforts cum to their full fruition. Batgirl's body jerks and spasms, as the orgasm of a lifetime looses itself between her legs. A warm wet flood of juices suddenly explode from her groin, all over Catwoman's fingers.
Catwoman smiles in sublime satisfaction to see (and feel) the pretty young Batgirl totally succumb to the savage whole-body release. . .
Just watching her cum is cathartic.
"UUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!" At last the heaven-sent climax begins to lose its grip on Batgirl, and she collapsed in Catwoman's sexy lap, utterly spent, satisfied, and relaxed, each breath is a sigh of satisfaction.
Now Catwoman slowly withdraws her soaking, sopping wet hand, and looking up at a nearby monitor, she says, "Well Doctor, I think you have your answer. I think we saved that building full of people."
Experiment #12 Poison Kisses
All Batgirl knew was that she was brought to a strange containment chamber. It was large dome-shaped room with windows all around its perimeter. The lighting had a reddish tinge.
In she was tossed, sprawled out on the floor.
The room smelled like a green house. Where was she?
Suddenly, she recognized the room. It was Ivy's Cell is in Arkham's Penitentiary Building.
Looking up, she saw the cloudy image of Poison Ivy, who was reclined next to her. As Batgirl looked up at Ivy's face, she was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman that Batgirl had ever seen. . .
"Welcome, my dear. The good Doctor thought that this would be the best place for us to . . . get to know eachother," Ivy's voice spoke in lilting tones.
"Hiya!" Harley interjected.
"Yes, Harley's here too Batgirl. The doctor wanted us to . . . all get to know eachother. That's a good idea, don't you think?"
Batgirl was still groggy, still possessed of a strange lethargy, left over from the Riddler's trick gas-emitting Trophy, or maybe from Kink's darts.
But now Ivy was cradling Batgirl's head in her hands, it was, . . . so comfortable, and warm, and safe there. What was Harley doing? Oh, rubbing Batgirl's thighs. "That's nice," Batgirl thought dreamily, as Ivy reached down and massaged Batgirl's breasts.
"W-what's happening?" Batgirl asked through her odd delirium.
Through dreamy eyes, Batgirl found that she was sprawled out over a large pile of sumptuous exotic pillows, in Ivy's containment pod. The smell of exotic herbs filled the moist greenhouse air of the chamber. As Batgirl dozed in and out, she found that her lethargic legs were too heavy to move, and she had no desire to move them. Harley had her hands on her thighs, her upper thigh, her inner upper thighs. Normally she'd have been quick to brush the unwanted attentions away, but the slowly massaging hands felt soooooo good. Now another pair of hands began massaging her heavy breasts, together it felt. . . awesome. Slowly opening her bleary eyes, Batgirl could see the smiling faces of Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, looking down on her affectionately.
Batgirl could not remember ever having been more relaxed. Suddenly, Batgirl realized what was happening, and she began to pull away. A nanosecond later, one of Ivy's notorious vines encircled her right wrist, and then her left. A heartbeat later, her slender ankles were similarly ensconced. She was held fast.
It was then that Poison Ivy slowly, gently, sensuously leaned down toward Batgirl's tender pursed lips to give her a kiss. As she did so, the villainess's hair fell like a orange privacy curtain around Batgirl's head.
"Don't worry, my dear," Ivy whispered in sultry tones, "My kiss is only poison if I want it to be. And I want you alive . . . and well. Dipping her head lower, Ivy pressed her impossibly soft green lips against Batgirl's pretty pursed peach lips. The kiss was surprisingly tender. At first, Batgirl pulled hard on her bindings, in a futile attempt to pull away, but as the strong vines held fast Batgirl's bound body slowly surrendered herself entirely to the kiss. Nothing had ever been sweeter. A moment later, Ivy's lips parted, and her tongue pushed between the bound Batgirl's lips. Now Batgirl's mouth opened wide as their warm wet tongues intertwined, and they took turns sucking on eachother's tongues.
Harley raised an eyebrow, as she watched the two sworn enemies go at it.
Now Ivy's hand strayed from Batgirl's thigh, and began to explore Batgirl's mound, as the other hand idly began groping Batgirl's nearest tit.
The tit was amazing, and Batgirl made not the slightest move to pull away, but only moaned feebly through her kiss, " mMMMmmmmnnnnnnnngghhhhh-hh. . . "
When their lips parted, there was a rustling, and Batgirl found herself sandwiched between Ivy and Harley. Their hands and breasts, and legs and lips were all over her. They were all writhing, intertwined. It was hard to keep track of who was who, as the erotic exploration continued, an inexplicable rising passion, and the accompanying increased heart rate, washing over her.
It all felt so good. Who was touching her bottom? "Women shouldn't do that," she thought dreamily to herself. Then she felt her own hands cup Ivy's pretty green bottom. It was sooo soft, sooo plump. She couldn't take her hands away. The cleft was so deep. The ass felt so nice in her hands.
Until now Batgirl had been entirely passive with her female lovers, but now, inspired by Ivy's exciting rump, Batgirl thinks, "I've always really wanted to do this." Then grabbing Ivy's head, she kisses her deeply, passionately. She couldn't get enough. Ivy's eyes open wide in surprise, and then close to savor the sweet moment.
There was another rustling of vines, and Batgirl found her legs cleverly intertwined with Ivy's so that together their legs made a kind of X, their crotches interlocked, the binding vines holding her in the compromising position.
Suddenly, there came a profound pleasure, as Ivy began grinding her mound against Batgirl. Everything felt sooo gooood. Ivy's long green shapely legs were so beautiful, and she loved the parade of erotic expressions passing over Ivy's face. For a woman who eschewed animal activities, she looked incredible when she was aroused, . . . in heat.
Now Ivy's pace increased as a look of bitter yearning came over her face.
"Ohhhhhh, Batgirl," Ivy panted, "Rub my bud, lick my petals, and stroke my stems. . . I'm ready to be . . . pollinated. "
Ivy's thrusting is hurried and urgent as she nears a release.
Ivy cums first. Her eyes wince closed, her head tips sharply back, as the orgasm of a lifetime detonates within her camel-toe. Batgirl can feel the warm wet explosion as Ivy's juices gurgle out and soak Batgirl's thigh.
"Ohh- . . . .G-dd!" was all Ivy could mutter as a savage orgasm throttled her. For long seconds, she said nothing but her body pulsed with wave after wave of other-worldly ecstasy. When it was nearly over, she tried to make eye contact with Batgirl, staring in disbelief that "America's good girl" could have gotten her off so resoundingly. For several long confusing seconds, they kiss. Batgirl doesn't know what the kiss means, if anything, but she needs it.
Now Batgirl found the vines pulling her into a new position kneeling on the floor, her thighs interlaced with a warm thick green limb. Was that a thick vine, or Ivy's warm thigh? Now Batgirl began dry-humping Ivy's full thigh, riding her like an English saddle in equestrian riding class, while Ivy did the same to her. It felt soooo damned gooood. And it looked good too, as both women's sleek thighs and prominent rumps rose and fell "posting-style."
Harley was now close by, watching the action, but not participating in it. Now indulging herself, Batgirl reached down to grope Harley's pretty shiny dark-red leather-clad ass. Her lusty hand cupped around the pretty shiny form, and a squeezed it. It was soo bad to be feeling another woman's ass. So bad to be enjoying it. So bad that she wasn't even a nice girl, she was a convicted criminal! It felt soo perfect. That was enough to send her over the edge. That's when Batgirl came.
The orgasm came through like a freight train. The blinding burst of energy down under felt like it split her in half. Batgirl herked and jerked like a puppet whose strings had a life of their own. The sneak attack of pleasure roaring though her groin was . . . unimaginable,
For long seconds, she gaped and jerked and sputtered, in a decidedly un-heroic fashion as the profound ecstasy flooded her mind and body with irresistible bliss.
Harley and Ivy watched in fascination as America's most popular virtuous heroine was utterly possessed by the ravaging sensations which were emanating from her clit. Ivy had never thought she'd get a chance to observe Batgirl cumming, let alone cumming hot and wet, soaking her leg. It was all so undignified, so unheroic, so out of control for a do-gooder Bat-superheroine. Yet that made it all the more precious to witness Batgirl completely surrendering herself to the savage ravaging throes of the great equalizer, . . . orgasm.
Teeth bared in a grimace of ecstasy, Batgirl's body shudders in savage pulses of carnal bliss.
For a moment Ivy grinned in utter satisfaction. Then the vines which had so tightly bound Batgirl, released the sexy heroine. Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Batgirl collapsed in a heap, into the pillows on the floor, flopping onto her back, her mouth hanging open for air, her legs spread wide heedless of the way she looked, the large dark wet spot which now resided at her crotch clearly visible to all. Now she brought her knees together, and slowly began thrusting, grinding her engorged hyper-sensitive mound against the full curves of her thighs, grinding the last sensual pleasures from her needy, tingling, sparkling, smoldering mound. . .
Experiment #13 Dead End
Batgirl had only the vaguest memories of being carried again, . . . on her way outside into the cool night air. Whoever was carrying her, was taking advantage of every opportunity to grope and grab her around the hips and legs and off-limits buttocks and tits. Somehow, in her erotic drug-induced stupor, it felt nice to Batgirl to be so desired, so . . . sought after.
At last Batgirl was laid down on a hard uneven surface, and her captors footsteps slowly faded off into the distance. Though she had little will to get up and move, the groggy Batgirl was curious as to where she was, and what was going on, so reluctantly, she opened her eyes, but all she could see . . . was stars, millions of stars in an inky night sky. A cool night breeze swept over the shapely curves of her fetching body. In a moment, she realized that she was lying on hard uneven rocky soil. Rolling over, she propped herself up on one elbow, her sexy hip soaring high, and began to look around.
Scrubby long grass was sprouting up in tufts scattered all around her. An old black wrought iron fence ran crazily over the uneven ground. Quickly getting her bearings, Batgirl could see the distinctive outline of Arkham's Botanical gardens in the distance on one side. And rolling over, with her pretty supple rump pointed upward, she could see Arkham Mansion was behind her.
Jagged stones were all around her jutting up out of the ground, and uncomfortably poking up under her. Large crooked funereal headstones loomed ominously and eerily around her on every side of her. She was in Arkham's graveyard, at night, . . . alone.
In the dead quiet of the night, with a brisk wind whistling over the eerie scene, bare craggy trees towering over her like monsters, there was a definite creepy chill in the air. Where were her captors? Why had she been left here alone?
But her keen hearing picked up a distant sound. Switching to Detective Mode, she scanned the area, and detected 3 inmates, loping awkwardly toward her through a misty low ground fog, the straps of their straightjackets flapping crazily as they approached from the south east. It was clear that they had seen her, and were moving to intercept her.
Getting back up onto her feet, Batgirl long legs began to carry her to the northwest, toward the looming silhouette of the Botanical Gardens. But after only a few steps, Batgirl stopped short as she heard another sound, like the sound of crumbling dirt, and rock just ahead. Something was up there. Altering course to the northeast, she ran briskly for a few strides before hearing the soothing sound of the cold crashing tide against the cliffs, and realized . . . that was a dead end.
Turning back to the south, she could see her lunatic pursuers growing closer, as they lumbered like zombies over the foggy misty graveyard. The only way out was to sprint to the southwest. As she gazed in that direction, she was surprised to see one of the rocks on the ground move. Then another spot of land was dislodged from underneath, causing small pebbles to roll away and down a mound of earth. A moment later, the soil moved again, as if an animal was burrowing underground.
With the loping lunatics drawing closer, Batgirl choked down her instinctive childhood fear of graveyards, and pressed on, deeper into the graveyard. Graveyards just had a way of inspiring the darker recesses of your imagination to start playing tricks on you, she reminded herself.
She chose a quick path around the unsettled mounds of earth, past an old gnarled tree, but her tiny micro-cape, whisking in the wind, was caught on the tree. Batgirl planted her sexy high heeled boots in the soil and twisted around awkwardly to try to pull the fabric free. Her awkward twisting efforts showed off her ample feminine posterior to advantage to anyone who might have been watching.
With the lunatics now drawing uncomfortably close, it was a bad time to be stuck in place. As she pulled away from the grabby tree, "SNAP!" she took a stumble on a gravestone, that sent her tumbling to the ground, her ripe plump bottom suggestively illuminated in the moonlight.
That's when the unthinkable happened. A powerful gray hand reached up from one of the open graves, and gripped Batgirl's sexy slender ankle with a vice-like grip.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" Batgirl screamed. She screamed like a girl, like a helpless teenager in a bad slasher movie. It was understandable after all. A hand reaching up out of an open grave, but she was instantly ashamed of her outburst, it was only draw more attention to her location.
That's when the hand pulled on her ankle, HARD!
Batgirl clawed desperately at the ground, as she skidded across the rocky surface, toward the black gaping open grave. . .
"Of course it isn't a zombie," Batgirl hurriedly told herself. "It must be another roaming lunatic, whose twisted psyche prompted it to lie down in an empty coffin," Batgirl wanted to assure herself, but as her sexy body scrambled to keep from being dragged into the open grave, all rational thought was rapidly abandoning her, and abject panic with an unexpected tinge of arousal was starting to get the best of her.
Now as the first three lunatics drew terrifyingly close, Batgirl scrambled to find something to grab, as the creature grabbed her ankles and pulled her roughly backward again. It must have had a great view of her ass from down there.
At last, Batgirl found an old root to grab onto, but it didn't matter anymore, as the first three lunatics finally reached Batgirl's helpless scrambling body, and grabbed her. They only wanted their. . . fair share.
Now the grabbing grave-creature ripped Batgirl's uniform, exposing the naked skin of her ass, and her underwear! Now Batgirl was utterly surrounded, outnumbered, and overwhelmed, as the lunatic/zombies shamelessly groped and grabbed her all over.
They grabbed at her, not like the zombies in the movies, or mad raving lunatics, but like they wanted her, . . . as a woman. Now their hands roamed all over her, the way a man would grab, . . . pawing her thighs, at her cute cleft-peach-of- an-ass, at her breasts, heavy warm and rounded. Now their large clammy hands were on her ass, squeezing her, groping her. Someone was licking her ass!
Batgirl screamed! AAAAAAHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!The scream of the helpless.
She tried to remember her training, but now hands were on her thighs, her upper inner thighs!
Now one of them was between her legs. There could be no doubt what he wanted. The dead vacant lusty eyes met hers, . . . his intent was unmistakable.
Now as they flipped her over onto her back, she could see the figure rising up out of the grave. He was huge, massive, . . . not human at all. His deep gutteral voice boomed through the night like that of a demon-God!
"SPREAD HER LEGS. . . "
Batgirl resisted with all her might, but the grabbing groping hands were too powerful. Soon her sexy dancer's legs, so thick at the thighs, so slender at the ankles, were slowly . . . pried wide apart!
The massive un-human attacker now loomed over her, between her legs, silhouetted by the eerie full moon.
Unfastening his belt, he loomed over her, his intent clear. Only a glint of light reflecting off of his razor sharp teeth was visible to Batgirl, but it was enough for her to recognize the massive looming male form as, KILLER CROC!
Now with his pants undone, standing half way out of the open grave, KILLER CROC was poised between Batgirl's sexy thighs, ready to have his way with her. In the poor silhouetted lighting, Batgirl couldn't make out the outline of the monster's manhood, but judging from the monstrous dimensions of the rest of his physique, the thing was probably longer and thicker than that of any mortal human who had ever lived. In her mind's eye, Batgirl imagined it to be a gargantuan stalk, scaly, pale on the bottom, and darker on top, with twin ridges running the length of it like the back of a gator. As Batgirl gazed down between her jutting breasts and down toward her widely splayed thighs, she cursed herself for being. . . utterly turned on.
No! That wasn't possible! She was never turned on by things like this. At least not in reality! The thought struck Batgirl like a thunderbolt. It was only in her dreams, (daydreams or erotic fantasies) that forced sex held any appeal for her. This had to be some sort of dream!
Now the sky split open behind Killer Croc, and a swirling fire whirled all around them. Towering over her, 30 stories high was the spectral form of . . . the Scarecrow!
Now outnumbered ten to one, on her back, her legs spread, being groped and molested, was in the middle of some kind of Scarecrow erotic fear fantasy.
"WELCOME TO MY WORLD, BATGIRL" his monstrous cackling voice intoned. Now the vaguest recollection of a man with hypodermic needles strapped to his fingers surfaced in Batgirl's mind. It was right after the all-too-real encounters with the Riddler and then Harley.
So that was it! Batgirl's mind was racing. It was all a drug-induced nightmare, playing on her darkest sexual fantasies, thanks to an injection from the Scarecrow! But how much of it was a dream? At least back to her encounter with Poison Ivy. (Thank God!) But vision or not, knowing it didn't make the nightmare end. Batgirl knew from having discussed Batman's encounters with an earlier version of the gas, that one needed to confront the villain in the dreamscape in order to break out of its control.
Then another voice met hear ears.
"Batgirl, you've got to fight it!" It was the voice of the Batman.
Knowing it was a dream helped. It helped a lot. Pulling her legs free, Batgirl threw all the power of her legs into a devastating kick between Croc's legs.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" the beast growled.
Then drawing her knees up toward her chest, she kicked the attackers that were holding her shoulders down. A moment later, she sprang to her feet and began dispatching lunatics left and right. As she fought, she spotted a dream-induced Batsignal spotlight in the middle of the graveyard. It hadn't been there a minute ago, but that's how nightmares were. Turning it quickly to shine on the monstrous apparition of the Scarecrow, she watched as he exploded in a blast of white light.
Batgirl opened her eyes, to find herself on yet another Arkham examination table, inside a cell. The Batsignal was blazing anew in the night sky outside her window. Batman was in the cell next to her, and Doctor Kink was just a few meters away watching closely and taking notes, with Nurse Shackle, Poison Ivy, the Riddler, Query, Echo, and Dr. Crane (A.K.A. the Scarecrow) at his side. Harley Quinn was standing at a nearby control panel. All were looking on with interest. But this time, as Batgirl sat up, she found that she was neither bound nor gagged, but a number of adhesive sensors were attached to various points around her cowl. Sitting up, she quickly peeled the sensors off.
"But how did she break out of my erotic nightmare?" Dr. Crane asked shaking his fist. It's not possible! She should have stayed in that world for as long as we wanted. It would take more will power than. . . "
"Clearly we've underestimated Batgirl's willpower, Dr. Crane," said Dr. Kink. "That is a mistake which we will not make again."
"So it was all a dream?" Batgirl asked in disbelief.
"No, not at all my dear," Dr. Kink replied. I'm afraid that only the last few encounters were illusory visions caused by the Scarecrow's erotic nightmare injection. Judging from your own comments during your drug-induced sleep-state, your visions included illusory encounters with Catwoman, Poison Ivy, and Killer Croc. But even in your dream-state, I'm afraid the orgasms that you experienced were. . . quite real, as we were amply able to observe. . ."
Batgirl blushed as she imagine her body writhing sensuously on the examination table, climaxing repeatedly as a full staff of confirmed supervillains watched and took notes. Erasing the thought from her mind, she blurted out, "But everything before that. . .?"
Oh, everything else before that, . . . everything from your arrival at Arkham, and your encounters with the Batman, Harley, the Riddler, and more, . . . Those, I'm afraid, . . . were all too real."
A knowing glance from Batman confirmed the truth of that fact. Then Batgirl turned her attention back to the moment.
"The game's over, Dr. Kink," That was the 13th and FINAL experiment!" Batgirl declared defiantly. We've completed our so-called 'experiments' for you. Now it's over. Let us go!"
"I don't think so, my dear," the doctor replied. "You see, you two have been so much fun, that I've decided to add both you and Batman to my 'permanent collection' of specimens here at Arkham. You see, I've already taken both of your utility belts, and you're completely surrounded by maximum security Waynetech energy fields. They're completely impassible. Between these shields, and various tranq gasses, I believe I can keep the two of you contained and committed. . . indefinitely."
"On what grounds?" the Batman asked, his tone deadly serious. "You'll need to give some kind of explanation to the authorities for keeping us locked up in here."
"An excellent question, Batman. But you see, I have footage of both you and Batgirl fighting our security guards here, in a completely unacceptably violent way. The Riddler has agreed to add some new voice-over lines to go with this footage that should make compelling evidence that both of you are undeniably criminally insane. Given the ridiculous Bat costumes, and your records as violent vigilantes, I don't think I should have any trouble convincing a judge. Falsified files will help as well. Of course, we'll write up your files in a sympathetic way that your adoring fans can accept. Something along the lines of: 'the burdens of prolonged stress, combined with repeated blows to the head during countless fist-fights, complicated by combat induced post-traumatic stress syndrome, led to sympathetic nervous breakdowns, and dementia. . . ' you get the idea. We'll throw in something about having 'high hopes' that with much care and heavy medication, we hope to see slow progress toward recovery. The press will eat it up. I can see the headlines now: "Big Bad Bats have Bats in Belfry.' Besides, Batman, you forget that I can always hypnotize as many witnesses, psychologists, judges, and jury members as necessary who will testify to say, . . . whatever I tell them to say. Yes, you and Batgirl are here to stay, I'm afraid."
"You're mad," the Batman growled.
"And as our experiments continue, Batgirl," Dr. Kink continued confidently, "I'm afraid that they are destined to become . . . far more 'intimate' in nature," he added with a smarmy grin. "Indeed your next encounter with Killer Croc will not be illusory. In fact, that experiment is scheduled to investigate the effects of . . . prolonged penetration."
As Dr. Kink and Nurse Shackle gloat, Batgirl replies with surprising confidence, ". . . I don't think so."
"Oh really?" Dr. Kink observed.
Now a strange sound shatters the silence, as the security energy shield around Batgirl's cell suddenly deactivates, as the low hum of the field is suddenly silenced . . . At a nearby control panel, Harley Quinn looks up sheepishly. "Gosh, Doc, it don't hardly seem fair to keep her locked up forever. Besides, she's always been real fair to me. I guess I just feel like . . . like I kinda owe Batgirl a favor. . ."
"And what about Batman?" Batgirl asked, hoping that Harley would also lower the force fields that were sealing the Dark Knight in his cell. The Batman cracked his knuckles threateningly at the prospect, of laying his hands on all the assembled gaggle of villains.
"Nah, . . . " Harley replied mischievously, "Let's see if you've got what it takes to save the day without the B-man. . ."
Before Harley had finished her sentence, Batgirl sprang across the threshold of the force field emitters through the door of the cell, and out toward the assembled crowd of Dr. Kink, Nurse Shackle, Dr. Crane, Poison Ivy, the Riddler, Query and Echo. Seven to one weren't the best odds, but everything was on the line.
Calling upon years of martial arts training and combat experience, Batgirl waded into the nest of villains laying out a complex series of coordinated combination attacks that sent her adversaries flying.
Of the entire lot of criminals, only Echo and Query were skilled combatants, so they moved in while their "superiors" dropped back from the fray. As the henchwomen launched a coordinated attack on Batgirl, the cowled crime-fighter dispatched both women with brutal expertly delivered blows, as the Batman looked on with a mixture of concern and pride.
"C-CRASH! - ZLONK! - POW! - OOOOOF!"
Batgirl quickly dispatched the curvaceous henchwomen, clearing a path to face the Riddler, the Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, Nurse Shackle, and the one and only, . . . Dr. Kink.
"Its five against one! We can take her!" cried Nurse Shackle, and so they all attacked Batgirl, en masse.
When the dust settled, 4 of the 5 villains lay unconscious on the floor. Now only Dr. Kink remained. Batgirl stepped up close to Dr. Kink, her firm pert breasts thrust defiantly forward.
"Very impressive, Batgirl. Perhaps we've all underestimated you. . . But rest assured, I won't make that mistake again. In fact, I've already summoned several orderlies to . . . detain you."
A moment later, Lefty and twelve other orderlies arrived, each brandishing his own tranq gun.
"Nebudchanzzar!" He called out, throwing each of them into a hypnotic state. "Each of these guards is under my hypnotic control, Batgirl. I have only to give the command. I'm sure each of them would be only too willing to pleasure you within an inch of your life."
For a moment, fear filled Batgirl's eyes. Then, the fear was replaced with confidence. "I don't think so," she declared confidently. Then she added, "Balthazar!" It was Dr. Kink's own control word, the word he used to break his hypnotic control over his victims. For a moment the orderlies looked disoriented, and rubbed their heads, as if waking up from a dream.
Then, as Dr. Kink opened his mouth to give the orderlies his counter-command to re-engage their hypnotic state,-- "C-RRRRRRRRRRUNCH!! Batgirl delivered a devastating punch to Dr. Kink's mouth, knocking out several of his teeth, and dislocating his jaw.
He wouldn't be issuing any more hypnotic commands for a while.
But one of the orderlies was different. Lefty was Dr. Kink's most senior guard/orderly. Whether hypnotized or un-hypnotized, he was as crooked and criminal as the day was long. "What about me, Batgirl?" Lefty asked as he stepped toward Batgirl, still pointing the tranq gun at her.
Fearing another dose of tranquilizers, Batgirl backed away from the heavily armed guard, her delicate figure cautiously retreating from the threatening weapon. Lefty continued to advance slowly, enjoying his absolute power over the sexy young heroine. Finally, Batgirl ran out of room, as she found herself, backed up against a nearby control panel. Her cute little tush compressed against the control panel, activating a blinking red switch.
"Time to say 'Nighty-night,' Batgirl," Lefty teased cruelly, as he glowered at the cornered crime-fighter. "Oh the fun I'm gonna have with you once you're dosed. . . " For a moment, his mind filled with lewd fantasies of what he would do if he had a groggy tranquilized Batgirl all to himself. "Those pretty little Bat-titties are mine! . . . and that Bat-ass! Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm..."
"There's just one problem, Lefty," Batgirl replied, interrupting Lefty's reverie.
"What's that, Batichica?"
"I have reinforcements too. . ."
"Really?. . . " he asked incredulously. "Do you really expect me to fall for that one?"
A moment later, . . . there was a whooshing sound, as Lefty disappeared upward in a blur . . . he was gone, swept up and away by . . . the Batman.
Batgirl grinned as she released the button that she had been leaning on. It was the, "RELEASE WAYNETECH SECURITY FIELD" button. It had been no accident that Batgirl had backed up to that control panel, nor that she had managed to sit on that particular button. From the moment the shields on his cell door had dropped, it had only taken Batman a matter of seconds to retrieve his utility belt, Bat-grapnel to the Gargoyle overhead, and "put the drop" on Lefty.
25 minutes later, with all the villains safely secured, Batgirl, Harley, and Batman gathered at the main entrance of the Intensive Treatment Building.
"Thanks for what you did back there, Harley," Batgirl said in a level tone, the Batman just behind her, at her elbow.
"Like I said, B-girl, I guess I just felt like I owed you, y'know. . . , just for always being decent with me. But now we're even, . . . right?"
"I guess so," Batgirl replied, "but you've still got to go back to your cell, Harley."
"Yeah, sure, well, it was fun while it lasted," she said shrugging, as she held her hands out to be Bat-cuffed, and Batgirl quickly obliged. "Click-Click."
"I've got one question, Batgirl," the Batman added. "How did you know Harley was going to let the energy barrier down?"
"I wasn't positive," Batgirl began, "but after Experiment #10, Harley whispered to me that would be willing to help me out if she ever got the chance. When I saw her at that control panel, I guess I figured that was the chance we were both looking for."
"Experiment #10 must have been something of a bonding experience," the Batman posited.
"You could say that," Batgirl replied cryptically.
"Thanks again, Harley, and good luck," said Batgirl, then she left the room, to head out to Arkham's main courtyard.
"In the mean time, . . ." interjected Batman in his usual deep gruff voice, ". . . try to stay out of trouble, Harley." Then, as he passed by, he casually gave the young woman a spank on the ass. "SMACK!"
The swat caused Harley's smooth soft round buttock to rapidly compress, sending a quivering shock wave through her ass. Then as the Batman's gloved hand exited again, the curvy form bounced temptingly again. The clown-girl's cheeky ass felt great. Loose and relaxed, soft but heavy and toned, it jiggled appealingly from the quick swat.
Harley's eyes opened wide in dismay. The Batman had never treated her like that before. And she kind of liked it.
"You're actin' kind a fresh, . . . aren't ya, B-Man? Oh I get it, that must be Dr. Kink's drugs still goin' ta work on ya. Aaaaaaah, don't worry. I ain't gonna tell Mistah J. It'll be our little secret. . . He wouldn't believe it anyway."
As the police take Harley back into custody, the Batman re-joins Batgirl in front of Arkham, where Commissioner Gordon and his SWAT team have arrived to secure the facility. Flashing lights light up the entire courtyard.
As Batman joined Batgirl, he asked, "Were you able to delete or destroy Dr. Kink's files, Batgirl?"
"You mean the extensive sensor files that showed us in various compromising positions? Uh, . . . Yeah! I took it as a high priority assignment to delete all of them before the police arrived. I can't even imagine how I'd feel if my father ended up seeing any of that. Actually, . . . I think I can imagine. That's why I deleted them."
Just then Commissioner Gordon walked up. "Well done, as usual, Batman, Batgirl," the Commissioner began. "We lit up the Batsignal as soon as we'd secured the 13th bomb-rigged building downtown, just like you asked."
"Its a good thing that you did, Da--Commisioner," said Batgirl, almost calling him "Dad." "When I saw the signal, I knew I was clear to make a move and take down Dr. Kink."
"We have Dr. Kinkaid in custody," the Commissioner continued, "as well as the staff members who were complicit with him."
"There will be months of work ahead deprogramming those staff members who were hypnotized or psychologically tampered with," the Batman added.
"You're probably right, Batman," replied the Commissioner, then his tone changed. "After all you two have done, I feel bad telling you this, but I'm afraid that I must ask you and Batgirl to leave your Batmobiles here for at least the next 24 hours. They are part of a crime scene after all. I hope you understand. Its just part of Police procedure."
"Of course, Commissioner," the Batman responded. "I expected as much. That won't present a problem. I've already made arrangements for . . . other transportation."
Just then, a familiar sleek black car rolled through the front gates of Arkham, the distinctive whine of its jet turbine engine clearly audible by all that were gathered in Arkham's courtyard. As the vintage "Barris Batmobile" pulled up with its distinctive double-bubble canopy, red stripes, red Bat-emblems, and Bat-Spinners, the driverless car slowed to a stop next to Batman and Batgirl.
"You think of everything," said the Commissioner.
"Y'know, . . . This one is my favorite!" commented Batgirl excitedly.
"Chicks dig the car," said Batman. Then he stepped around to the driver's side and quickly climbed in, while Batgirl climbed into the passenger side.
Picking up the red Bat-phone, the Batman whispered in a gruff voice, "Alfred, were on our way home." Then hanging up, he said, "Atomic Batteries to Power. . . "
"Turbines to speed," replied Batgirl.
"Let's move out. . ."
Batgirl was stripped naked, save for her cowl, boots, gloves, and a tiny shiny blue/black thong. As she lay in the black silk sheets of the king sized bed, a cunning set of redundant shiny black leather straps bound her legs tightly together, at the ankles, shins, knees, thighs. More shiny straps pinned her arms behind her back, cleverly framing her naked breasts. A tight cleave gag locked her face in a sexy clenched-jaw grimace.
A large naked man was sidled up behind her, spooning her nearly naked body, his body pressed scintillatingly up behind her, his member wedged between her ass cheeks, his fingers skillfully probing the inside of her panties.
"Batgirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl, . . . " he intoned. Tightly bound as she was she could do little or nothing to escaped as his fingers slip into the front panel of her thong panties. Now, with remarkable skill he begins working her most private area into a heightened state of arousal.
Over the course of several minutes, he skillfully works her up into a remarkably intense frenzy. Her tiny clit is defenseless, as her works her into a moist wet lather. Soon submissive moans and whimpers come through her cleave gag, telegraphing the poor heroine's closeness to an intense forced orgasm. Despite her best efforts to forestall an orgasm, her sexy hips begin to thrust involuntarily against his pleasure-giving fingers. For a long moment she teeters, wavering on the very precipice of ecstasy. A moment later, her body seizes sharply in her bindings, and she cums, . . . hard.
She bites down hard on her cleave gag as the savage rapture seizes her. "H-HHNNNGGGGG!!!!!"
Inspired by his captive's orgasm, her captor begins humping her naked thonged rippling quivering tush. At first, he pounds her ass with fast rapid-fire impacts, hammering her trembling ass like a jackhammer. Then he slowly squirms, grinding his hips against her soft supple plump rump and hips. Alternating between fast and slow assaults on her femininity, he enjoys her captive sexuality until he grunts, and spills his gooey clear load, splattering it all over that sexy Bat-ass, jerking and spasming as he disgorges his hot load all over her.
For several moments they both lay there, enjoying their afterglow, . . . her bottom dappled with droplets of his cum, which slide and drip down her pretty ass. Then he rolls her over to face him, gloating over his pretty naked bound captive, her pale plump breasts, neatly framed by black leather straps, are temptingly crushed together.
Reaching out to her cowl, he quickly pulls off her black rubber cowl, tousling her mane of red hair, as he callously reveals her identity. Now he mauls and fondles her soft cool breasts, as she scowls at him from behind her gag. She can do nothing but wriggle weakly as he has his way with her. Now he removes her sexy cleave gag before forcing a long wet kiss from her tender lips. Through it all, the poor bound heroine is helpless to resist his selfish advances. Their tongues intertwine as his hands shamelessly grope her wet cum-splattered ass.
"I love you," he says as their lips part.
"I love you too, Mr. Wayne," she whispers between kisses, as she lies in the master bedroom of Wayne Manor." I know that Dr. Kinkaid was trying to , . . . force us on eachother, but. . . . do you think he ever figured out that you and I were . . . already in a sexual relationship?" Batgirl asked.
"No, Mrs. Wayne" replied the Batman, as he slowly unfastened her many bindings. Now their naked cum-covered limbs intertwine. "I think we showed him enough righteous indignation to convince him otherwise. Kink seems to take great pleasure in forcing people into unwanted sexual relationships, so let him go right on thinking that. For that matter, Knightwing and Supergirl have been together for a while as well, as have Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor. So far as we know, Kink's arousal gas hasn't ruined any relationships the way he intended. He's just forced existing couples to get a little friskier, . . . so no serious harm has been done, so far as we know. But by messing with people's sexuality, he's playing with fire."
"Its ironic that the Arkham's Chief Warden is now its number one inmate. Do you think Arkham will be able to hold him?"
"Well, if the rest of our Rogues Gallery is any indication, I wouldn't be surprised if somehow, . . . some day, . . . Dr. Kink strikes again."
Now pulling her cowl back on, Batgirl climbs up on all fours again, presenting her thonged ass to her partner invitingly. "Are you up for another round?"
"Always," he replies, as he sidles up behind Gotham's hottest ass. Slowly he impales her, savoring the sensation, as her cowled head drops low. Then gripping her hips for support, he slowly begins pumping in and out of her in smooth impactful strokes.
Just then, Alfred stops recording. Too tired to continue, he adds this footage to his growing video collection. This one he saves under the name "Batgirl in Bondage #185."