I decided to try my hand at this after reading a few stories on the web and wanting to create my own version of how things came to be in Gotham City. I am not an avid reader of comic books so my main source of knowledge is from the TV show. Obviously, I took liberties with the concept at points. I’d like to acknowledge Ann Douglas, Robert Cashman, and Les Bonner whomever they are. Although I cannot say they inspired me to write this, their style of story telling was a useful guide.

Batgirl Arrives

By T. Thatcher

Batgirl, Batman, Gotham City and all other characters were created by and are copyrighted by and are property of DC Comics. This story has been written solely to occupy my free time. No compensation has been or will be received for this story. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and cannot be redistributed for the purposes of making money or profit.

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“Okay, this is it,” and with that Barbara Gordon let out an exaggerated breath and stood up to shift all her weight to her right foot that was poised on the kick start of her new, custom designed black Ninja motorcycle. It roared with an excitement that complemented her nervousness. As she shifted into gear, the bike lurched forward synchronized to the falling false wall of her downtown loft. “Oh God, I hope you know what are you doing, Barbara” she mumbled to herself as she was sprinted up the alley and into the night. Batgirl had arrived.

The cool air swept refreshingly over her back and, for the first five minutes, was probably the only thing that kept her from fainting. After those tense, introductory first streets she reconciled with what she was doing--what she promised to commit herself to--and transformed her nervousness into inspired anticipation. After swinging out to the beltway and opening up the responsive throttle she began to feel the confidence building inside her. For good measure, she leaned into the bike, swung off the exit, and whipped around a few dark corners of historically troubled streets looking for some action. If something bad were brewing, she would find it.
Or it would find her. Perched at a red light she noticed a staggering bum come stumbling at an angle in her direction, simultaneously laughing and singing to himself. She glanced up at the light hoping it would change to green so she could speed away before he had a chance to get too close. No luck, the light remained red.
“What kinda crazy helmet is that?” he asked as if it were the most important question anyone could ever think of.
“Step away, old man,” Batgirl responded, “I don’t want you to get hit.”
“No, you did-it hear me,” as he leaned closer, twisting his head and looking into her masked face, “what kinda-I ain’t never seen a helmet like that before.”
Batgirl took her hand off the throttle to push his face away (hoping that his body would follow) and began, “Please move away I have important bizz-Oomph”. Her words were cut short as she felt two big arms reach around her waist from behind and meet at her solar plexus in a violent grasp. In a split moment the motion continued as she felt herself lifted off the seat of the bike and hurled backwards onto the street. She landed on unceremoniously on her butt but neatly rolled into a fighting position. Only there was no one to fight. The drunk quickly straddled himself on the bike and his accomplice hopped on behind. She could hear them laughing as they tore through the intersection.
“Shit!” she screamed out load. And, “this is not how it is supposed to start!” she screamed to herself. Furious but undaunted she reached down to the underside of her utility belt and pressed a button that instantly killed the engine of her bike. Batgirl theatrically brushed herself off and began to stride toward the two men who had stopped laughing and were now trying to restart the bike. “Gentlemen, I believe you two just committed a crime. I am going to have to place you under arrest.”
“What the fuck you talking about, bitch?” shouted the larger man who had just introduced Batgirl to gravity, “we ain’t going anywhere without our new bike and, if you know what’s good for you, you won’t come a step closer.”
“I’m afraid you are wrong there, scum. That is my motorcycle and you two are under arrest.”
Well, now she was wasting his time. He wanted to hurl one more abuse before crossing over and popping her one but, as he turned his head up, he noticed for the first time that this was no ordinary woman. Batgirl emerged from the darkness of the street and stepped into the straining light of the one lamp working on that street. Before him stood a woman poised with a purpose: legs astride, hands on hips, chest proudly outward, and with her chin pulled slightly into her neck but looking directly at him. “I am not going to repeat myself again,” she said with authority, “step away from the bike, get on your knees, and lace your fingers behind your neck.”
“The hell I will,” and with that he strode toward her. “Listen you high steppin’, spandex covered, cape wearing, masked covv--erred, glov--ved ho’- I don’t know who you are - actually, who the fuck are you?”
“I am Batgirl and you are going to jail”
“Batgirl? Shit, Cleatus, did you hear this? There’s a Batgirl now, too. Damn! This is rich. Sorry, girlie. This is too much. Go away before you get hurt.”
“Drop to the ground before I take out your kneecaps and make you get down”
“Listen, bitch, I don’t care what you call yourself, but Batgirl or not, no one threatens me and gets away with it.” He then lunged forward and attempted to slap her across the face. Batgirl easily bobbed out of reach without sacrificing her footing. She offered him another shot and when she effortlessly blocked that as well she wasted no time delivering a surgical kick to the side of his leg slightly above his knee and ripping apart his ligaments. He collapsed -- more in shock -- and was chest to the pavement and cuffed before the pain of his blown out knee exploded. “Cleatus, help me!” he yelled.
Immediately looking to the other perpetrator, Batgirl avoided his rush and downward swing of a two-foot pipe. The circled each other twice waiting for the other to make the first move. “You move pretty well for an old drunk,” Batgirl offered.
“Get ready woman, I am going to introduce you to pain,” and he swung the pipe again this time back and forth but still missing by a lot.
“Do you know how to use that as a weapon?” Batgirl taunted, “you’re not very good.”
“I know how to use this fine,” and raised his arm as he charged at her. Batgirl finished him quickly as well, blocking his blow by bracing his upper arm and punching him in the throat. As he lay on the ground coughing and gasping, she cuffed him as well and called the police.
When Gotham’s finest arrived they were a bit baffled by what they saw. Before them lay two larger men, handcuffed and in pain, with an outfitted woman standing over them. “Okay, what is this all about?” the first demanded.
“Officers, I am invoking a citizen’s arrest on these two men for grand theft and assault.”
“And who might you be, ma’am?”
“I am Batgirl.”
“Batgirl? Jeez, I didn’t know. I gotta start going to the shift briefings more often. Batgirl… Well, thanks for your help, Batgirl, we’ll take care of it from here.”
“It was a pleasure doing business with you officers. I am sure we shall meet again.”
“Yeah, no problem,” the officer said as he waved her off. He then walked over to his partner in the patrol car and said, “O’Shaunessy, you better call an ambulance for these two creeps. Batgirl fucked them up pretty good. Hey, did you know there was a Batgirl?”
“Is that who she was? All I noticed was the nice ass and the rack of tits she had.”

The rest of the night unfolded without great drama but Batgirl still considered it a success. Three more incidents, small crimes really, which she thwarted without much effort but with an increasing assuredness of where she belonged. After each apprehension she called the Gotham police and authoritatively turned over the perps. She was on her way to establishing a Mistress of the Night mystique. Some of the cops looked at her queerly some with lust but none questioned her place in the law enforcement dance. Barbara Gordon, the Commissioner’s daughter that no one took too seriously, was taking on street crime on her own terms as Batgirl - and her father’s force was accepting her.
What an unbelievable whirlwind of events that led to this moment. A little more than a year ago Barbara was an unassuming librarian toiling away in back rooms, loving the knowledge captured in books, but assigned to a woefully under-budgeted project designed to update the Gotham City Library computer cataloging. She excelled at the task as her years of high school and university shyness were solaced with endless hours behind books and at the computer screen. There were virtually no limits to what she could access through her computer. In fact, among the anonymous computer community to which she belonged, she enjoyed an enviable reputation for being the best hacker and the one to turn to when an answer was really needed. Instead of allowing those skills to be dulled by the mindless direction of her library supervisor, Barbara found creative ways to exploit the resources of the limited systems and plug into other resources not exactly allocated to the Library. Despite the modest output, everyone at the library was politely pleased and spoke of promoting her quickly to the stacks.
Life soon changed more profoundly for Barbara, however, when on a coffee break she decided to join the crowds and purchase a Powerball lottery ticket. Whether it was boredom or the coaxing of colleagues, it ultimately did not matter. She was the sole winner of a $202 million jackpot. She opted for the discounted cash value knowing that with her ability to acquire knowledge on any topic, she could manage the money more effectively than the State. Her first initiative with the money was to use it as bait to have her father retire. He would have nothing of it. Then the wave of leeches and scammers came swarming and she immediately realized they would win if she did not get away. So she invested her money in an interesting portfolio of her own design and quietly bought a small apartment building in downtown Gotham. She bought building mostly be for storage and refuge but she would later find that the location would be perfect for the life she now assumed.
As dawn bellowed, Batgirl directed her bike back to the building, not exactly a Batcave but a safe haven for her new persona. Upon re-entering her apartment all Barbara could think of was a shower and immediately peeled off her gloves and boots as she entered the bathroom. She deserved the luxury of her multi-directional jet shower and furiously grappled with her costume to jump in. First, she unzipped her one piece in the back and pulled it forward slipping out of the sleeves and wiggling it down over her hips. The way that the stretch fabric tapered at her ankles almost caused her to lose her balance as struggled strip it off. Finally, she was left in her sports bra, thong panties, masked cowl, and cape. As she relieved herself of the underwear she caught a glimpse of herself in her mirror, naked except for the mysterious Bat adornments. She had to pause and face the mirror. She spread her legs to a shoulder width stance, placed her hands on her hips, and said, “Wait right there, mister.” She had always been uncomfortable with her nakedness but now the cut of her muscles and the firmness of her breasts looked good staring back at her. “Oh, if Daddy could see me now,” she laughed as she pulled the mask off her head and removed her red wig. She tossed them aside and headed for the awaiting pulsating massage.

A few hours later, the ring of her phone awakened Barbara. She cleared her throat and answered, “Hello?”
“Good morning, princess, how’s my little girl today?”
“Oh, hi, Daddy. What’s up?”
“I thought I would treat myself to a breakfast with my favorite gal, what do you say? Unless, of course, you have important millionaire things to do instead.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Daddy. You know I would never miss an opportunity to spend time with you.” This was true. The demands of her father’s career often made him invisible at home when she was growing up. However, it was all she knew and instead of resenting his absence she wove it into the larger than life admiration she held for him. No one could touch his integrity, courage, or protection of her. “When can I expect you to drop by? 15, 20 minutes?”
“How about 15 or 20 seconds? I’m on the cell phone and letting myself in your front door as we speak.”
Barbara immediately sat up from her reclined position and surveyed her situation. She was naked with the sheets pulled up to her waist and her pert breasts hanging out and partially supported by her arm holding the phone. Worse, her Bat costume was scattered everywhere as the memory of her reckless stripping came back to her. Even the secret panel to her hidden room was open. She instantly started organizing her actions. “Sure, Daddy come on up. Unfortunately, the elevator is out again so you will have to take the stairs. Sorry.” Before he could reply, she hung up and whipped into action.
Her recall at retracing her steps was sharp but the random chaos of where things landed was less precise. “Focus on the big and noticeable things,” she thought. She gathered the gloves, boots, and costume in her arms and searched for the mask and wig. “Daddy’s been off the beat for some time but even he would notice that.” She found them, added them to the bundle in her arm and threw them into the secret room. She fumbled under her vanity for the hidden button that operated the sliding door. As it slid shut she heard her father’s key slide into the lock and begin to open the door. She grabbed a robe to cover herself and let out a “phew.” Unfortunately, it was premature. As Barbara saw her father open the door she noticed her utility belt was still out, not in plain view, but not hidden either. She immediately opened a drawer grabbed everything in it and dumped it over the belt just before her father turned to face her.
“Well, I see the maid has not arrived yet. What is the deal with your elevator? Why is it always out? Isn’t this one of the buildings you own?”
Deflecting the questions Barbara replied, “Daddy, in the future you have to give me more than half a minute to get ready. You are always my most important date and I should look my best.”
“Aw, you look fine. Just throw something on. We’re only going to the diner downstairs. Here this will do.” And with that he reached down into the pile of clothes and grabbed some sweat pants and a sweater. Barbara’s eyes bulged with nervousness. If she left to put these things on, he was likely to pick up the clothes and fold them. Yet, with no underwear on beneath the robe her father would be mortified to have her change in front of him.
“I’ll tell you what, Daddy. You go down and get us a booth and I’ll be there in five minutes tops. I promise.”
“Okay, pumpkin, but my watch has started. I am counting down already.” Barbara saw him to the door and vowed right then never to be put in this situation again. She also realized she should take notes each night so that she could learn from both her mistakes and successes. She quickly booted up her computer and made encrypted entries for the previous night’s work.

Breakfast was briefer than planned as her father’s phone kept ringing ensuring that the rest of their conversations were mostly interrupted or confined to sound bites. “It seems a few precincts have reported the appearance of a Batgirl in Gotham City,” he informed her.
“Batgirl?!” Barbara answered in mock surprise, “what do you think of that?”
“I don’t know, Barbara. O’Hara called Batman and he said he had no knowledge of her. We have to be careful about allowing too many vigilantes on the streets. It’s bad for business. Besides, how would we control them? How do I know if this woman’s intentions are good or evil?”
“I’m sure if her name is Batgirl her motives are purely altruistic and moral, Daddy.”
“We’ll see. If she wants me to accept her, she will have to march into my office and introduce herself to me, Chief O’Hara, and Batman and state her intentions. Otherwise, I will instruct my officers to arrest her as well when she brings the criminals to our doorsteps.”
“I think it sounds extreme but you are the Police Commissioner and I think you’re wonderful. By the way, to what do I really owe the pleasure of your company this morning?”
“Oh yeah, you know, honey, it’s the strangest thing. Remember how I used to always try and make your gymnastics competitions?” Remember, Barbara reflected, despite the demands of his job that kept him out of the house at other times he found a way to attend almost every single one. That support drove her to excel at the sport and set aside her otherwise shy demeanor. Unfortunately, her future in gymnastics was eventually betrayed by her body for, as it blossomed, it became more difficult to execute the intricate routines. Nevertheless, he would never fully know how much it meant to her and gave her a sense of validation.
“Of course, I remember, Daddy, why?”
“Well, this morning I woke up with a strange feeling that I just missed one of your important performances. What do you think of that?”
Rather than respond, Barbara gulped some ice water on the table and shrugged her shoulders.

That night, Batgirl set out again as a patroller of the streets and combatress of crime. The streets did not disappoint and she found ample opportunities to intercept the damage threatened by the violence lurking in the City. After a week, she conducted an assessment of her accomplishments. While she contributed to the apprehension of almost 30 criminals it did not always go smoothly and she learned many lessons along the way. The first was that while she liked the look, feel, and sexiness of her Lycra costume, it did not hold up well after repeated nights of battle. Numerous nicks and tears made for downtime mending and two trashed costumes. Second, she needed to be more aware of the surroundings her encounters brought her to and careful in her fighting. In one skirmish she chased a perp into an alley focused on his capture. She thought she had him easily when the alley abruptly ended at a wall. She stopped her running pursuit and immediately assumed her hands on hips stance. She should have sensed something was amiss because as she peered down at him, he looked nervous but not nervous enough. However, before she could put that observation into thought she was grabbed from behind by his accomplice. The surprise clutch of the second thug could have left her outnumbered and vulnerable to the now advancing partner but her captor was content to try and hold Batgirl by her breasts as his hands cupped and squeezed them.
“Whoo hoo, get a load of these!” he entreated his partner as lifted Batgirl off her feet by pulling her against him with her back to his chest. He tried to wave her back and forth to so her legs would swing freely but he began to lose his grip against the slick Lycra material. When Batgirl’s feet hit the ground she wasted no time. She kicked back and down into his instep which immediately caused him to let go and reach for his ankle. She finished him with an elbow to the bridge of his nose breaking it and leaving him senseless. Her original suspect that led her into the alley froze not sure whether to run again or fight. Before he could decide, Batgirl had his hands secured around his back.
In another battle, she was up against someone who had obviously spent some time in the ring. He took a shot that grazed her but served as a wake up call to potential danger. Feeling confident, he challenged her with taunts, springy feet, and flashes of a jab. After a few flick of his fists Batgirl knew how to take him on. He was big so she knew to avoid being hit again figuring that if he caught her right he could knock her out. Instead, she used her superior speed to bob and weave the jabs and bet that he would tire quickly. Frustrated by his lack of ability to connect he took a wild left hook that Batgirl easily ducked under. She began to pop up unaware that he immediately followed his left with an equally frantic right. She aborted her rise and dipped down again in time to avoid the blow but, in his wildness, he caught the back of her red hair. The force and the motion ripped the cowl off Batgirl’s head. He stood there for a second dumbfounded as to what he discovered in his hand - a hooded mask and a red wig - and, just as he looked up to figure out what was going on, all he saw was a white flash. In one motion Batgirl came up and swung her leg in a kick landing squarely on his jaw. In a heap he crumbled unconscious and out for the long count. Batgirl leaned over and retrieved her accessories from his grip, ran her hand through her short black hair, and placed them back on her head.
“This is a little more than I bargained for but hell, it’s fun,” she said to the alley cats as she walked away.
Batgirl modified her procedure after the breakfast with her father opting to call the police and steal away to the shadows to avoid a run-in with the officers until she could figure out what to do. “This is crazy,” she thought as she watched the officers arrive after one particular collar. “Here I am helping them on the job but I have to conceal myself on a rooftop and watch them complete the bust because Daddy doesn’t know if my intentions are good.”

The next few weeks proved to be even more successful for Barbara as Batgirl. Her arrests increased as she figured out ways to be more efficient and proactive. She made a scientific exercise of where to be and at what times. It was relatively simple. All the information about reported crimes resided in the database at the Central Gotham precinct. The steps necessary to hack into the database were almost comically easy. So easy that, while in there, she added a few anonymous protective steps to prevent others from duplicating her access.
The thrill of stalking and the burst into action kept the experience alive and something to look forward to each night she went out. While she wished to go out every night she realized she had other commitments from the various social events and charities her new wealth demanded. She was slowly emerging from her shyness and becoming a darling to many of Gotham’s elite. She used her wealth and position as the Commissioner’s daughter to further her causes (the Gotham Library and Crime Victims). For fun, she also chaired the Gotham Women’s Club, which she was transforming from a stoggy sister club of the Gotham Men’s Club, to a vibrant and independent forum for up and coming females.
The Chairman of the GMC, Bruce Wayne, was less than enthusiastic at this turn of events but he was powerless to do anything to stop it. Bruce was a bit of an enigma to Barbara. For years, he had been a family friend and frequent guest at the Gordon’s. As a teenager, her crush on him was only surpassed by her crush on Batman. A year ago, she even caught him eyeing her in his notorious playboy way. However, since she won the lottery he had become standoffish. Sure, he continued to be pals with her father but he did worse than avoid her, he ignored her with distant formal politeness. Maybe she was partly to blame. Soon after she received her winnings, Waynetech plunged in value, as the conglomerate did not meet its quarterly projections. Believing in the value of the company, she invested a significant share of her wealth in its stock. When the stock rebounded strongly, her investment - combined with others in her portfolio - had more than doubled in value. She was now a holder of almost two-percent of Waynetech stock, enough that many thought she should serve on its Board. The honor mysteriously never materialized.
Heading home one night after a gala Barbara ran into her father. “Hey Daddy, long time no see. If I knew that breakfast would be our last time together, I would have ordered more food.”
“I know honey, I’m sorry. It’s just that, once again, it has been so busy at work with these Batgirls confusing things.”
“Batgirls, Daddy? I did not know there was more than one.”
“Well, the evidence doesn’t suggest that there are more than one but at the rate these criminals are being brought down we just feel there has to be more than one at work. My men cannot match the productivity. Even Batman didn’t arrest that many so early in his crime fighting.”
“Daddy, I cannot believe what I am hearing. You continue to be so sexist. Maybe Batgirl, a woman, has just figured out a better way to handle the crime. Besides, Batman only goes after the headline criminals and there’s a lot fewer of them.”
“Yeah, you’re right I guess. I just wish I knew who she was.”

The next night Batgirl was on the hunt again. Each night she let her instincts tell her whether she to cruise the streets on her bike or park it and roam the rooftops. Each method served a purpose. She needed to know her the response of bike intimately to excel on high-speed chases while the rooftops allowed her to obtain a feel for the neighborhoods, exercise, and keep her gymnastic ability sharp. So far, her successes seemed to prove her instincts were on target. Now, her fourth week in action was about to teach her new lessons and introduce her to the public spotlight.
The night started slowly. Were the streets really this quiet or was the impact of her work taking effect? “I can’t believe Daddy thinks I might be a criminal,” she let her mind wander, “or worse, he thinks that because I am besting Batman there must be more of us. I don’t want to show up Batman, I just want him to see I am a worthy partner in crimefighting.”
Batgirl decided to park her bike and walk on the streets. Around the corner was a day lot that should keep her bike off the street and out of sight. She pulled in and cut the engine. As she began to walk back to the street she thought she heard a whimper in the back corner of t he lot. She saw some silhouettes but, with the distance, could not make out what they were doing. She reached to her utility belt and pulled out a pair of infrared high-powered glasses. What came into view was the image of a man on top of a woman and slapping her as he pumped his pelvis into her. Batgirl yelled for him to stop and immediately raced to the scene. “Stop!” He stood up and looked for a way to escape. When he saw it he pulled his pants to his waist and took off 15 yards before Batgirl arrived. Batgirl ran to the girl, looked at her torn clothes and exposed body. The first thought into her mind was “she looks helpless and dirty” but and crouched down saying, “You are going to be alright.” Then she tenderly placed the palm of her gloved hand on the woman’s cheek and said, “I have to get him but I will be back. I promise. Please wait here.” Without waiting for a response she took off after him.
In a fury, she gusted after him - easily bounding fences - and even the stray dogs knew better than to bark at her. She caught up with him in an adjacent lot. As she loomed, he realized further flight was useless and gave up. “Okay, okay I can’t run any more, you have me,” he gasped. Batgirl stopped on a dime but still percolating with rage she screamed,
“On your knees, scum!”
“Yeah, yeah I will. I just need to catch me breath,” as he bent over and placed his hands on his thighs.
“You can rest in jail,” and with that Batgirl swung her leg behind his knee forcing him to the ground. The speed and force showed the intent of her action was serious. She was not wasting a moment to mess around. Sensing that this woman meant business and fearing for his safety, the rapist tried to flee again. Batgirl caught him within 10 yards. She grabbed him by the collar with her left hand and yanked him back. As his butt hit the littered pavement she delivered a sharp blow to his face opening a sizable gash. She immediately hit him again. And again. “This bastard will pay,” she groused to herself as she kicked him in the ribs and he yelped in pain. “Shut up!” and she hit him in the face again. She noticed his blood on her gloves and decided to kick him. He tried to cover but his movement just made his leg absorb the punishment of the blow.
“Please,” he sobbed, “I’m sorry, I give up, please don’t hit me again.”
“I’m sure you ignored that girl back there when she said the same,” and Batgirl recoiled to hit him again. She sized up as to where she would strike. Instead, she just looked at him and felt pathetic for him and herself. She lowered her fist, released him from her grip and turned back to check on the victim left behind. As she walked away she stopped, turned to him and asked, “what are you going to do now?”
“Call the police and turn myself in, I promise. It’s safer in jail than on the streets with you.”
“Do you need a quarter?” as she reached for her utility belt.
“No I have a cell phone,” and he reached into his pocket and dialed. She turned to walk away. She could hear him describing the location and asking them to send an ambulance for the girl.
“Good boy,”she thought. Batgirl jogged back to the parking lot where she left the woman and her bike. The victim was gathering herself together and it looked like she was preparing to leave. “Whoa, ma’am, where are you going? An ambulance is on its way and I am sure the police will want to take a statement.”
“I don’t want to make no statement,” the woman sobbed, “I want to go home.”
“You can and will go home,” Batgirl consoled, “but first we have to get you some medical attention.” For added comfort Batgirl put her arm around her and covered her with her cape for warmth.
“Is Armando coming back?” she inquired.
“If Armando is the creep who assaulted you, no, he will not be bothering you again. I have given him a lasting lesson on the administration of justice. He knows never to even speak to you again. But, you must file charges to make sure he goes to jail. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes, I guess so.” After a prolonged pause she looked up and asked, “Who are you?”
“I am Batgirl and I am here to keep the streets safe for people like yourself. What’s your name?”
“Tina.”
“Tina, would you like me to wait with you until the ambulance arrives?”
“No,” sounding a bit stronger, “I’m going to call my sister.”
“Alright then, let me walk you to the phone.”

When Tina’s sister arrived shortly afterwards, Batgirl returned to her bike and took off. She started to head to the next hot point on her crime matrix but she only made it two blocks before her confused mind forced her to pull over, lean the bike against an abandoned building, and run inside. Batgirl pierced several rooms running without aim until finally she stopped, sat down on a crate, buried her face into her bloodied gloves and cried. Seeing Tina lying on the ground and violated brought back thoughts, long ago repressed, that tormented Barbara Gordon all throughout her teenage years. When she was 11, members of an organized crime family kidnapped her mother. The family ordered the act as a display of their force against veteran police commander, Jim Gordon, and his efforts to eradicate organized crime in Gotham City. It was not really a kidnapping because there never was a ransom. A week later Barbara’s mother was found beaten and repeatedly raped. Jim Gordon sheltered his daughter from most of the details by sending her off to stay with distant relatives while he, with the public’s outraged support, waged a retaliation against the families that saw their ranks decimated. His success thrust him into the Commissioner’s position at the then unheard of age of 43. His popularity had kept him in the office through different administrations and it was generally acknowledged that he would retire as Commissioner when he wanted.
The loss of her mother was a silent trial for Barbara. She kept a brave face for her father but there were many nights when all she needed was the gentle reassurance of a caring and understanding woman. At those times she resented her mother for not being there and criticized her for not being strong enough to fight back and save herself. She vowed never to let that happen to herself. Her father’s utter dedication to his calling made it impossible for him to fill the void. He was damaged, too. The loss and resulting guilt made him very protective of Barbara (so much so that up until college, Barbara had a uniformed officer outside her home every night) and sheltered from parental intimacy as well. He kept their conversations formal and resisted opening up to her for fear of losing himself in a raging river of grief. Their mutual love still made for cherished company when they were together but most things went unsaid, just understood.
By the time she finally composed herself, she knew she looked a wreck and would be unable to exude the confidence she needed to do her job. She decided to call it a night and head back home. She undressed quietly and, for the first time in a while, retired early sleeping soundly.

Barbara woke refreshed and whizzed through her day and the many activities for the library. She was anxious to return to the streets and renew her cause for justice. The night offered much promise. Statistically, it was a high crime night with several options of neighborhoods to choose. She chose a neighborhood that she had not patrolled yet thinking that with her vigor she would do most of the night on foot. Batgirl parked her bike under some scaffolding and covered it with a nearby tarp. She then quickly scaled the scaffolding and was on top of the building in no time. She noticed a good number of police cars on the street and thought, “Maybe this neighborhood doesn’t need my help tonight. Maybe I’ll move over to the other side of town.” Just then, the fireworks started. An alarm sounded and a shot was heard. Batgirl ran to the other side of the roof and saw an all night bodega with a man screaming at someone running away. Immediately, a seeming division of police cars was on hand to respond. Batgirl figured that situation was under control and moved back to her original vantagepoint on the other side. She was about to bound onto another rooftop when she saw a man crawling out of a window onto a fire escape with a computer CPU under his arm. “This should be fun and easy,” Batgirl thought. She straddled the roof edge and slid down a drainpipe using her arches for bracing. The poor lout struggled to make it down the fire escape and when he finally made the final jump down he arose to have Batgirl towering over him. “May I help you?” she inquired.
“Oh well, I was just going to - I mean, a friend had borrowed my computer and I needed it back and…well, I…”
“Why don’t you work on a good version of the story and tell it to the police.”
“Yes, maybe you are right,” and he placed the computer on the ground. The thief looked both ways as to flee, then decided against it, then decided against not fleeing, and took off. Batgirl immediately reflexed and followed. He was fast and it took all Batgirl had to keep him in her view. Not only did he motor but he cut angles sharply and seemed to know where to run to avoid capture. She held her own in pursuit and when an alley wall finally betrayed his escape, she nabbed him.
“This isn’t a bad start,” she thought as she cuffed him and took deep breaths to regain her composure.
Suddenly, from behind she heard the voice of a woman shout “Freeze!”
Batgirl spun around to see a Hispanic officer about 5’5”, stocky, and with her gun drawn. “It’s okay officer, I have it under control. He is all yours.”
“I said freeze,” she continued to yell, “I mean you.”
Batgirl then realized that the barrel of the gun was pointed at her. She peered to the officer’s badge and said, “Officer Velazquez, I think you might be misunderstanding the situation. This man just stole a computer and I apprehended him. The unit is right back on-“
“Shut up! Put your hands in the air and don’t move.”
“This is ludicrous,” but she did as she was instructed and raised her hands. “Officer, why are you making me do this? I am on your side.”
“I said shut up. Turn around and place your hands up against the wall,” as the officer moved cautiously to Batgirl’s left. Batgirl had seen the routine enough to know what to do. As she stood with her back to the officer, she turned to she Velazquez undoing the cuffs Batgirl had placed on the perp. She put the Batcuffs on her belt and said to the thief, “Go, get out of here.” He needed no further incentive and disappeared.
“Hey, what are you doing? I caught him red handed.” Batgirl was flabbergasted. “Officer, could you please tell me why on earth you have me up on the wall and the criminal is waltzing back to his stolen goods. He’s the guilty one.”
“Oh I don’t know about that,” Velazquez began, “I have seen you assault and illegally imprison a man already. Maybe you are even carrying. Don’t move. I am going to search you. I have my gun pointed at your head.” With her free left hand the officer proceeded to reach up to Batgirl’s right forearm, and frisk down the fabric covering Batgirl’s arm until her shoulder. Then she went up to her other forearm and slid down that, too, but this time instead of stopping at the shoulder, her hand moved to the edge of Batgirl’s lats and the hand found its way to Batgirl’s breast. Velazquez gently squeezed and patted it then reached further under Batgirl to squeeze the other breast, too.
“Hey what is this,” Batgirl protested.
“I said be quiet or I will add resisting arrest as well.” Her hand moved back to Batgirl’s left bosom and caressed it again. Eventually, the officer moved down and cupped Batgirl’s buttocks and gave them a playful spank. She kicked Batgirl’s feet wider and awkwardly took the palm of her hand starting at the top of Batgirl’s butt and glided it to the place of her womanhood. She moved her full hand firmly back and forth over the material covering Batgirl’s vagina. Batgirl felt herself to begin to a slightly tingle. It had been so long since she felt someone else’s caress that, even unwelcomed, it felt good. Batgirl closed her eyes and gently let her head rest on the wall. “Oh you like that, huh? Well, we have more tools for a contentious crime fighter like yourself.” Velazquez then took her night stick and moved it astonishingly right to the place where Batgirl’s labia would welcome visitors. The stick probed the insides of her genitals with the only material of the costume preventing full penetration. Enjoying the sight of her command over the masked crusader, Velazquez moved the stick forward to press directly on Batgirl’s clitoris. Batgirl let out a faint moan and contemplated giving in to the pleasure when the dampness of her material against her vagina gave her a flash of sobriety that cleared her mind. She shook her head, thought, “I must gain control back”, spun around and said,
“I think you have searched me enough, officer.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Batgirl. That is what you are calling yourself, isn’t it. You see, we have been hearing about you in our briefings but you are so quick and so efficient that by the time we arrive you have already left. Now it’s my job to bring you in so we know who we are against. I think I’ll answer that question for myself, right now.” She then leaned into Batgirl and supporting the gun pointed at the Caped Crusader’s face with her forearm on Batgirl’s left breast. With her free hand, she then reached for the bottom of Batgirl’s mask and began to peel it up.
Thousands of thoughts criss-crossed through Batgirl’s mind as she tried to process the implications of the situation. Should she let the officer have her way? She was well known in police circles. Would Velazquez recognize her? If she did, would she turn her over to the Commissioner? What would Daddy say? How could she stop her? She had a gun. All her life she had been trained to obey the law and the people who were sworn to protect it but…- Bam! - with a quick thrust of her neck forward, Batgirl headbutted the cop in the forehead causing Velazquez to let go of the mask, drop her gun, and fall backwards. Batgirl stood over her and said, “Sorry for the abrupt departure officer, but I must be going.” She then kicked the gun away and stepped over the stunned body as she made her way out of the alley and back to her bike. Choosing the electronic ignition, she turned the throttle and headed straight home to sort out her next move.
Back in her apartment Barbara Gordon - still in costume - paced back and forth. “What have I done?” “What was I thinking?” “Maybe I should just end this thing.” “No, what I am doing helps people and saves lives.” “Why was her violation of my body such a turn-on?” “Maybe Velazquez will be too embarrassed to report it.” “How do I make this night go away?”
The next morning Barbara woke up and flicked on the TV. Normally, she did not watch too much TV but after a fitful sleep she did not want to think. The news brought her right back into the morass. To her horror she watched and listened as the reporter lead the audience through the scene. “Police say it was in this alley off of Jefferson and Third that a masked woman, calling herself Batgirl, jumped out of the shadows and attacked Officer Velazquez. Officer Velazquez had just apprehended a burglar after a brief chase. Police report that the burglar escaped during the attack. Officer Velazquez is in Mercy hospital this morning with a slight concussion and doctors indicate that her she should recover in full.
Police are asking your help in reporting Batgirl sightings. Please note that they consider her dangerous. Please call the hotline on the screen if she is spotted in you neighborhood. Back to you, Jane.”
The newspapers joined forces in blowing this story up beyond any reasonable proportions. Batgirl this and Batgirl that. Various renditions of her costume by artists littered the pages. Crimes committed years ago were now being pinned on her. Barbara felt helpless. Her dream of following her father in the pursuit of justice and doing it in the manner of Batman was crumbling. She was lost and did not know where to turn.
Just then her phone rang. She hoped it was her father. “Hello?”
“Hi, Babs, it’s Xandra.” Alexandra Wentworth was one of the blue bloods whose family had been part of the Gotham Woman’s Club since its inception. At first she fought Barbara’s membership and chairmanship but, after seeing the results and having fun, she decided that they should be best friends. Barbara humored her but always kept a polite distance. “Sorry to call so early in the morning but I wanted to catch you before you started your busy day. Busy. Busy. Busy.”
“Hello Alex, what can I do for you?” Barbara asked in a mostly monotone voice.
“Well Babs, in case you did not know, for years we have been having a luncheon where we honor Gotham’s most eligible bachelor.” She always sounded too happy with the most mundane information.
“No I wasn’t aware of that. Can we talk about this later?”
“I wish -- but you are going to thank me, thank me, thank me when you hear what I have to say. For like a thousand years the perennial winner was that boring Bruce Wayne,” by the way she said Bruce’s name Barbara immediately knew he had slept with her at some point in her life, “so two or three years ago someone came up with the scrumptious idea of awarding it to Batman. I mean, who better, right Babs? Anyway, he always politely declined sighting some crime thing or another. Well, this year he was our choice again and because of the work you have done with the club and the focus on criminal rehabilitation, he has decided to accept our award this year and attend our luncheon! Isn’t this the most absolutely best news?”
“Yes, Alexandra it is fantastic,” Barbara began, “but why do I need to know this now?”
“Because, as Chairwoman you get to present him with the award.”
That was it? This girl needed more of a life. Nevertheless, she maintained her politeness and said, “Let me assure you I will be most honored to represent us with Batman,” and slightly raising her voice she asked, “when is this luncheon again?”
“In about two months. What-are-you-going-to-wear?”
“I guess I will have to think about it, Alexandra. Anyway I must go. Thank you for the news and I will see you at the club soon.” She hung up before she could be roped into another topic. As she set down the phone she began to think about Batman and being that close to him. He was a bit special. She smiled and thought, “maybe things aren’t so bad in my life after all.”
After showering and dressing, Barbara made a point of stopping by her father’s office. She just needed to see him and derive some reassurance. The first person she encountered only made the situation seem more bleak.
“Good morning, Miss Gordon, paying a visit to your father?”
“Why yes, Chief O’Hara, do you know if he is in?”
“The Commissioner is in there all right but he is up to his neck in problems with this Batgirl running around. She is a devil of a problem and the City will not tolerate her, I tell you me and my men will not sleep until we catch her.”
His Irish brogue became so pronounced when he was excited that it almost sounded fake. “Yes, Chief, I heard you say words to that effect this morning on the news.” Those exact words actually. The man could not work without a script.
“You saw me, did you?” O’Hara asked her with a self-amortization.
“Of course, Chief, and you looked quite handsome. I’m just going to pop in to Daddy’s office for a second. I will see you soon.” She smiled small but he returned a large grin and a nod. Barbara then turned and entered her father’s office after a gentle knock.
“Daddy, I did not see your secretary outside, is it okay to stop in?”
Her father looked up from his desk and took off his bi-focals with a surprised look that eased into a smile. “Of course you can come in, Pumpkin, what can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to say hi but if you are busy with this ‘Batgirl’ thing, I can come back later.”
“No, nonsense. If Batgirl was the only problem this City had we would be in pretty good shape. I think what we all need is a little perspective.”
“But I just saw Chief O’Hara, Daddy, and it sounded like he was making her public enemy number one.”
“Chief O’Hara is a good man, Barbara, but he can exaggerate a bit. He should have checked with me before he made those comments on TV but, it is done, and I will not make him retract them. I would rather he focus on why this Batgirl is better at fighting these criminals than his men…and women.” Commissioner Gordon would never publicly question his Chief of Police. Years ago, when the crime syndicate cleverly planted scandalous stories and mock evidence incriminating the Commissioner, O’Hara stood by him and took a lot of heat from his men. After he was eventually exonerated, the Commissioner knew he had to reward O’Hara’s loyalty with his own. It meant having to cover for him every now and when his outrageous comments were caught on TV but he knew, no matter what, the man was honest and incorruptible.
“I don’t get it, Daddy, is Batgirl considered bad or not?”
“Everything leading up to last night indicated that she was on the straight and narrow,” the Commissioner began, “then this incident last night happens. I did not make sense. And, between us, Officer Velazquez’s story has many holes in it. She has given different officers different versions but she has not filed her official report yet. When she does we will scrutinize it.”
“So what are you going to do in the mean time with her?” Barbara asked, pumping for more information.
“If she is out there, we will bring her in for questioning if for nothing else. I would feel a heck of a lot more ease with her if she would just properly meet with me and lay her agenda out on the table. But until she does that, the APB stands.”
That was just like her father, having to meet people face to face. He was old school (despite her wizardry with computers he had never even turned one on) but he had success with that formula and did not see a reason to change. Anyway, that was the second time she heard her father mentioning the need to meet Batgirl in person. Barbara knew what she had to do.

Instead of arranging the meeting right away, Barbara decided to wait a few days to let the story cool. She devoted her time to the Library, a love and source of peace for her. The news actually swelled the next day after O’Hara made some more comments to the press but then the pendulum of opinion began to swing. On the fourth day, the rape victim publicly spoke out on how Batgirl saved her life and how committed she was to helping people not hurting them. Then others aided by Batgirl’s efforts came forth. Now the press began to transform the myth of Batgirl into a folk hero and champion of the regular people. The police line and public sentiment began to clash. Barbara realized it was time to make her peace with the Gotham Police. She figured she would call the Commissioner and arrange a meeting.
Her first attempt alerted her to her thorny predicament. From a pay phone she dialed his private number knowing he would pick that up himself. As soon as he picked up she said, ‘Commissioner Gordon?’ and he immediately responded with, ‘Yes Barbara what is it?’ She made up some inane reason for calling and went back to the drawing board. On the phone he knew her too well. She needed a diversion. Her first contact had to be in person. As much as she hated the idea, she had to corner him or make him feel uncomfortable in order to distract him from her voice. She would do it at his home, an old brownstone in the Village. It made sense. He would be alone and, if she got into trouble, she knew the neighborhood and a thousand ways to disappear around there.
That evening Barbara would don her Batgirl costume again. She returned from the library and stripped down. She looked at herself in the mirror. She exercised like a maniac the past week trying to keep her mind off of the streets. Although her body looked firm and her muscles toned, she felt rusty. She struck her hands on hips pose and pushed her knuckles into her hips. It caused her back to flex in a v-shape and her breasts to inch closer together as her chest muscles pushed them into place. Looking down she noticed her pubic hair had grown out a bit. She would trim it in the shower.
She ran the shower hot. Barbara was careful to remove any trace of scent that could identify her once in costume. Toweling off, she slipped on thong briefs that neatly covered her patch of pubic hair and a seamless sports bra. The undergarments were not necessary due to the supporting construction of her outfit but tonight she preferred the feel of it against her. She assembled herself in her new kevlar reinforced costume and checked herself in the mirror again. “Not bad, if I say so myself.”
Batgirl then headed for the secret passageway and thundered up her bike. Although the building ostensibly looked fully occupied in fact, Barbara was the only resident. When she bought it a few tenants remained but without the promise of renovation, they moved out over the course of her year long sabbatical. She did not need the rental income and their absence gave her the privacy she wanted and now, as Batgirl, needed. To avoid suspicion and the scavengerous pack of squatters and apartment seekers she had the rooms modified to appear occupied. It kept the building safe and, in its own way, anonymous. Roaring out of the alley, she headed for her old neighborhood to stake out, of all people, her father. She secured a spot near the park that would hide her and allow her unencumbered access to intercept the Commissioner.
He was late but that did not surprise or faze her. She saw old neighbors go by going about their lives. Her eyes followed old Mrs. Lapinsky as she walked her dog. At the corner of the street some silhouette bumped her and grabbed her bag. Mrs. Lapinsky screamed and her little dog barked but it was of no use. He was off and headed to the park-headed right for Batgirl. She could not believe that he was literally heading for the bushes where she was crouched. As he arrived she sprang up and tackled him into the dirt as they rolled together in a fighting embrace. He was not startled and got in the first shot hitting Batgirl squarely in the throat. Although gagging she flipped him over her head as she pulled him by his lapels into her and, in a backwards somersault used her leg to push him up and over. His airborne excursion ended when he landed on his back with a thud. Stunned, he temporarily could not move. Batgirl wanted to cuff him but thought now might not be the time.
“You are lucky, punk. Tonight you are getting a freebie. Just know, however, that I am in all neighborhoods and if I see you again there might be interest to pay on your freedom. Now get out of here.”
He scurried off. Batgirl picked up the purse and headed over to Mrs. Lapinsky. She tried to say it was okay and here is your purse, but the shot to her throat left her speechless. Instead, she just handed her the purse back.
“Thank you,” she said uneasily. She looked at the costume carefully. “Are you Batgirl?”
“I am”, Batgirl managed to say hoarsely.
“Well it is an honor and I think you are lovely. My name is Ida Lapinsky and if those fascist police give you anymore trouble I will gladly stick up for you. You know the Commissioner himself, a lovely man, lives on this street himself. You would think he would have men stationed here. This City has changed.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence. I must go.” The last words were barely audible. Barbara needed to take care of her condition if she wanted to speak to her father, the Commissioner. She needed to ice it down but instead of drawing attention to herself by going to a bodega, she decided to take advantage of one of the many ways she knew how to break into her old house. This way she would meet the Commissioner without distractions.
She was still in the kitchen with a few ice cubes melting against her throat when she heard him put the keys in the door and enter. She listened for a second to make sure he was alone. She dried her throat with a dish towel and announced herself, “Commissioner Gordon, how good to see you.” Her voice was so warped even she could not recognize it.
He immediately went to his holster to draw his gun. Sadly, his instincts did not match his practice. He had not regularly carried a pistol in over ten years. “Who are you? Do you know who I am?”
Batgirl stepped out of the shadows but avoided the bright light. “Commissioner, I think it is obvious whom I am. I want to negotiate a truce between myself and your force.”
“How did you get in here. You know, young lady, breaking into my house is not a way to get on my good side.”
“Commissioner, I assure you I inflicted no damage to your home in entering. Unfortunately, circumstances made sitting on your doorstep a bit of a non-option. My intention of meeting you like this is to assure you of my good intentions. How would you have handled it differently?”
She was right, he thought. When cornered, turn the tables anyway possible. He would have done the same in her circumstances. Go after the problem at its source, directly. “Alright Batgirl, this is what we will do. Tomorrow at four o’clock I want you in my office to meet with Chief O’Hara and myself. Will you be there?”
“Four o’clock is fine but Commissioner, I want your word that upon my entrance you will not have any traps or officers waiting to arrest me. It will just be the Chief and yourself.”
“I give you my assurance that you will not be arrested but I don’t know you. How can I be assured of the Chief’s and my safety then?” he countered.
“Why don’t you invite Batman as well. I am sure he is capable of protecting the entire police plaza, if necessary. Is that satisfactory”
“Very well then, I give you my word no shenanigans. We will all clear the air.”
“There is one more thing, Commissioner, after ‘clearing the air’ as you say I will expect to be fully deputized like Batman to avoid these problems in the future.”
“That’s a lot to ask for young lady. I cannot be awarding policing licenses to any person who requests one.”
“The name is Batgirl, Commissioner, not young lady. I do not expect you to deputize everyone. Just the few who deserve it and I am one of the few. Now if you will excuse me I must go. I think the front door should do just fine. Till tomorrow, Commissioner.” She moved to leave turning her back to him as she passed by. Out the door, she let out a big breath of air.
“There is something about her style I like,” Gordon thought to himself seconds after the door closed.

The only other item on Barbara’s agenda for the following day was a Board meeting of the Gotham Public Library. It was scheduled to start at eleven and end at two. At two o’clock the meeting was still in full swing and there were still several items left on the agenda. Barbara looked at her watch and thought, “As long as I am out the door by two-thirty I am fine.” The meeting continued to drag and at two-thirty five she noticed that Bruce Wayne who was sitting at the other end of the table was fidgeting, too. “I guess I am not the only person who must be someplace else as well. Don’t these people have other lives?” At two-forty five, Barbara folded her leather portfolio and quietly excused herself. She headed for the nearest door. As she placed her hand on it she felt another hand immediately cover it.
“Sorry, Miss Gordon, it appears we both are needed elsewhere.”
“Yes, Bruce, I guess we are.” He opened the door for her and motioned for her to continue. Out the door and into the hallway they both realized that they were headed in the same direction. Neither was comfortable with each other’s presence at this moment. Not wanting to appear rushed Barbara asked, “So how is Dick doing in his first year of college?”
“Oh, the young fellow is doing well, achieving good grades and participating in many activities like sports.”
“Jesus, Bruce, you make it seem so formal. It’s just college. Now that he is no longer under your protective eye, I hope he is letting go and more of a party animal.”
“Well, Dick is quite a serious young man, Barbara. I imagine he is booking it diligently and exercising his participation in recreational activities judiciously.”
“God, you are impossible. Remind me again, why do women swoon over you?”
The pace of their traipse down the hall had quickened. “I guess some women just have a cultured eye for a pearl like myself. Do not knock that which you do not know. You could be pleasantly surprised.”
“Please...” Barbara’s voice trailed and that was the last conversational word they exchanged. “I can’t believe he would try to hit on me. These overly rich boys always think that there is a mystery to them. There isn’t a thing about Bruce Wayne that isn’t numbingly transparent.” As they walked out into the open of the street Barbara considered letting Bruce offer her a ride in his limousine but decided at that time in afternoon the subway would be quicker. As she turned away they exchanged brief farewells.

Back at her apartment Barbara methodically stripped as she plotted her strategy for this meeting. Her voice had recovered completely so she could not rely on that for disguise. She needed to put them on the defensive as much as possible and keep their attention diverted. One way to distract them was with her costume. Definitely she would forsake undergarments for this summit. She chose her one-piece kevlar outfit that required a little more effort to put on but added a bodaciousness that she needed. It had a hidden back zipper that went down to her butt but when she zipped it up the seam magically disappeared leaving a costume that appeared painted on. She scrutinized herself closely in the full-length mirror of the small dressing room. The protective leotard hugged and accentuated her bosoms bringing out their authoritative shape and fullness. It also complemented her legs and bottom featuring their muscularity without compromising her femininity. It had a very sleek look without her cape or utility belt. She put the belt on first and the cape next. Each accessory was individually reviewed. Although she hoped to some day drop the wig, today she knew it was necessary. She was amazed how different she looked and felt when she placed the wig on her head. That, more than the mask, gave her the confidence for a more powerful personality. Finally, she put on her gloves which also layered seamlessly onto her costume. She liked the way she looked. She was hot and she was ready.
Before leaving she called her father’s personal line and asked if he was free for her to come over. “Sorry, dear,” he replied, “but I have a big pow-wow with Batgirl to clear the air. You’ll be very proud of me, Barbara, I am prepared to listen openly to what she wants. I think she may be alright.” Barbara had only called to set him up for later but this revelation was better than anything she could have hoped for. She expressed her regrets and said she would call him later.

Cruising the streets of Gotham certainly had a different feel in the daytime. First of all, the attention she drew was unmistakable. Heads turned and people called out. Many were shouts of encouragement and cheers to Batgirl to ‘give them hell’. She did not mind the compliments and felt further empowerment from them. Nevertheless, she remained focused on her meeting. In front of police plaza she noticed the Batmobile already parked in front. She considered pulling in behind it but for her own benefit chose to park her bike in front of it instead. Stepping off the bike, she ran up the steps of the building to the entrance.
As she approached her father’s office, she almost blew her whole practiced charade. “He is not Daddy, he is the Commissioner,” she repeated to herself. Yet, when she asked the secretary to see the Commissioner she almost thanked the woman by name. The near slip up went unnoticed and she was instructed to enter immediately.
Batgirl opened the door and locked eyes with the Commissioner. She walked directly to him without visually canvassing the room. She shook hands, turned to her right, and introduced herself to Chief O’Hara. He gave a gruff acknowledgement. Without turning she said,
“And is that you in the corner, Batman?” She did not have to look. Years of being in her father’s office with the Caped Crusader there she knew his favorite spot near the alcove window. Chief O’Hara blinked in amazement at Batgirl’s observatory powers.
“Yes, it is I,” he replied.
“Well it is a pleasure to meet you for the first time as well.” Batgirl spun around and extended her hand. She wanted to make Batman come to her. After a slight and imperceptibly brief pause, Batman decided manners counted more than ego and walked toward her. As he neared, she noticed him checking her up and down. “Perfect,” she thought, “keep looking.” What was not so comforting was the sight in the corner of her eye of her father checking her out as well. She would have to deal with that unpleasant situation later.
Batman’s grip when shaking her hand oozed surety and well balanced strength. She was careful to maintain eye contact with him the entire time. She could see him in momentary conflict torn between using his psychological skills to assess her personality and visual skills to capture her appearance for a cross referenced familiarity. Neither was successful.
She released the clasp and turned toward the Commissioner. “Sir, I believe you know why I am here.”
“Yes, Batgirl, the three of us were just discussing it.”
“And…” maybe this would end much sooner than expected.
“I am afraid it is more complicated than you perceive.”
“In what way, sir? Is there a test you want me to complete on either the law or physical strength?” Batgirl petitioned.
O’Hara jumped in, “We ain’t deputizing anyone we don’t know, so be a good girl and show us who you are under that mask. Come on, lass, make it quick.”
Batgirl did not flinch. “Did you hear that, Batman? They want us to take off our masks. Come on let’s show them who we really are.” She knew the Commissioner did not know Batman’s real identity. They had talked about it often in the past. He used to wonder but had long since given up on ever discovering it.
“No, no, no just you, girlie. I don’t need to see Batman. He’s already deputized on my force.”
Batgirl did not respond to O’Hara. Rather she directed her comment back to her father. “Commissioner, I hardly think it is fair for me to have to de-mask in front of you all just for some curious fancy. I know of no provision in the code of deputies that allows for grandfathered secret identities. I am perfectly willing to reveal my identity at this moment if Batman is willing to do the same.” She turned to Batman and challenged, “are you up to it, Batman.”
The Commissioner did not give Batman the time to respond, “O’Hara, we do not have to discuss identities now. There is a more grave concern. Batgirl, you assaulted an officer of the law.”
“While it is true I engaged physical contact with an officer,” Batgirl began, “I only did so after determining it was necessary under Article 4, section 3, sub paragraphs 7 to 14 under the Gotham City penal code. I believe there are adequate precedents for its use.”
O’Hara fumbled, “I don’t know what you are referring to.”
“I believe I can help, Chief,” Batman interrupted. “What Batgir-what she is saying that, due to fear of imminent harm to herself and evidence of behavior by the officer, which either had or would contribute to a crime occurring, she chose civil authority to restore order. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Batman, that is what I, Batgirl, said. Do you have a problem saying my name, Batman?”
“I am sure that I will have no problem saying your name once you tell me what it is,” he parried.
“I believe I already introduced myself. Commissioner, I must have been mistaken. I thought this would be a constructive meeting. If it is going to be a chest thumping exercise, I think I would rather fight crime.”
“No, wait Batgirl. You must admit the situation is awkward. These two men represent my most trusted officers. I am proud to say I would gladly go into any battle with them. You cannot expect to walk in and receive immediate acceptance.”
“Your point is fair, Commissioner. I have come here for two reasons: to clear my name and to continue to fight crime. What evidence do you have to support the officer’s claim against me?”
O’Hara jumped in, “We’re mounting a substantial case, young lady, just you wait and see. Nobody assaults my crew and walks off scott free.”
“Commissioner, I am interested in hearing the evidence you have against me.” As Batgirl was saying this, she discreetly pressed to a button on her utility belt. The Commissioner’s private phone rang.
“Excuse me, gentlemen--I mean-- lady and gentlemen. This will not take long.” The Commissioner picked up the phone. “Gordon here. Oh, hello Barbara. Listen I am a bit busy right now. Can I call you back? What? Dinner? Yes, that will be fine. Goodbye.” Late last night Barbara knew she needed an extra diversion in case any of the men were too clever. She knew exactly how her father would respond to a call from her during an important meeting (she had a lifetime of experience) and digitally recorded her voice accordingly. She even took the precaution of having several versions recorded if he deviated from her planned script. She could control it all from her Batbelt. “I am sorry,” he continued, “where were we?”
“I am waiting to hear hard evidence of a wrongdoing,” Batgirl pushed. She did not like to be tough on her father but it was necessary. Besides, speaking right after the phone call would reinforce the idea that Batgirl and Barbara Gordon were separate individuals.
“Well, in that regard we may be able to work something out.” The reality was the cop’s story stunk. He did not believe it, nor did many of her blue brethren. Thankfully, Batgirl was a female or the problem could escalate into ugly dissension. “However, the deputy issue. I just do not know. It is not something we want to do often. Yes, Batman is deputized but since he has such an established reputation it is quite easy to manage with the public. Your situation may be different.”
“Commissioner, I believe I have a solution,” proposed the budding but sultry criminologist. “If you think I need credibility, have me hang out with Batman for a period of time. If anyone can ensure I know the ropes, it is he. Besides, with Robin gone, I am sure he could use the help.”
The surprise of the suggestion hit Batman harder than any foe. “Commissioner, I assure you, I do not need any assistant.”
The phone rang again. “Gordon. Yes, pumpkin, what is it? Is who here yet?” Then his voice went down to a whisper, “Barbara, she is here now. I’m busy. I will fill you in over dinner.” He was slightly embarrassed but the second call did the trick. Maybe one call could be faked but not two. Ah, the advantages of knowing how her father would react in certain situations!
“No, Batman, I think I like this idea,” said Gordon returning to original Caped Crusader, “this might provide a better balance in our stance against crime.”
“Commissioner Gordon, I must protest. You know the caliber of archenemies I square off against. They are not the usual street trash that she has been dealing with. Having anyone other than my trusted partner, Robin, could be life threatening.”
“Nonsense, Batman. When you first walked in here with Robin he had barely begun puberty. Frankly, I thought your choice of him was a bit peculiar. However, he blossomed into a true asset-and he was very green, greener than his shorts. No, Batman, this will be the best thing for Gotham City and I want you to seriously consider it.”
“Yes Batman,” Batgirl began as she moved closer to him and look deep into his eyes, “what could possibly go wrong. You (as she touched her finger to his chest) are the best crime fighter bar none.”
Batman did not like being backed into a corner. He could defy the Commissioner and flatly refuse but that would not be good form. Gordon had been a good man and used the law to make Batman’s job easier. He was particularly chagrinned by the way Batgirl had manipulated the conversation. He needed to find out more about her.
“Okay, Commissioner, I am in. I will assist Batgirl through her internship.” Turning to Batgirl, he extended his hand, “it will be a pleasure working with you.” As their palms touched Batman uncharacteristically also reached out with his left hand and touched her shoulder in an apparent display of camaraderie. Actually, he placed a tiny tracing sensor on her cape. If he had to work with her, he was determined to know her identity.
Batgirl was elated. She achieved everything she had hoped for. “Well gentlemen, if there is no other business…Batman, when would you like to begin, tomorrow evening?”
“Tomorrow will be fine, Batgirl. Shall we say 10PM?”
“Ten is great. Where shall we meet?” she asked, not wanting to miss any details.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find you,” Batman proclaimed with a typical confidence.

Batgirl did not want to go back home. She won. She was vindicated and deputized. She bested Gotham City’s foremost police minds. She straddled her bike and decided to day cruise the neighborhoods she had been frequenting at night. That’s right. Let them see who is out there waiting for them. With her new confidence she was ready for trouble in the wide open. On the course of her victory tour, she crossed paths with Batman two times and gave him an acknowledging nod at each instance. He nodded coolly back in return. The third time they crossed in a completely different section of town, something seemed peculiar about the frequency. Finally, on the fourth coincidence she realized he was following her.
“That bastard. Who does he think he is?” she grumbled. Batgirl decided to venture into a neighborhood she previously had not visited to make sure Batman was not merely checking her out in her known haunts. “Let’s see how good he really is.” And with that, she throttled her bike and jetted off through a maze of alleys and streets losing the Batmobile for good. Or so she thought. When he arrived in the same fashionable district within minutes she concluded he must have some sort of tracing device planted on her or the bike. Unfortunately, she could not tell which. She cursed herself for not being prepared. Worse, the hour was late and her father would be expecting her for dinner shortly. How was she going to get back to her apartment without leading Batman to her secret identity?
She decided she would have to take a risk. She first drew Batman to a location far from her place. When she was sure he had caught up with her. She shot off for her apartment using a route that would be infested with traffic at this hour. On her bike she could easily maneuver through the congestion. Not knowing the source of Batman’s trace, she parked the bike in a hidden place near her apartment but not through the secret entrance. It would be secure there but not betray her. Batgirl then raced back to her apartment and began to remove her costume. Now she regretted wearing the one piece as precious minutes ticked away as she struggled to strip it off. Finally free of it, she was left standing in her changing room naked except for her mask and wig. Batgirl retrieved her trace-detecting device. When she discovered it on her cape she knew Batman would be not be far behind. Her first instinct was to smash it but she realized that if she did the last transmission would come directly from her apartment. She heard the Batmobile’s turbo wind down in front of her building.
She darted to the window to check out how he was going to proceed. Briefly glancing down, she saw him hoist up the Bat-rope to the top of her building. “Okay, plan B,” she thought. She caught herself in the mirror and noticed that her mask and wig were still on. “Don’t be that obvious, Babs,” she said to herself. She tossed them into the hidden doorway of her changing chamber and slid the door closed. She thought again about smashing the transistor but reasoned on her alternative course of action. “Okay, Batman, the next step is up to you,” as she stood naked waiting for him.

The transistor Batman applied to Batgirl was not his most sophisticated. Consequently, the beep led him to this building but he could not determine exact location. He could tell however that her movement had stopped. He decided to scale the building and enter through the first point of entry that made itself available. Reaching to his utility belt he pulled out a trusty Bat-a-rang secured to his lightweight but strong tether. Batman’s accuracy was about one hundred twenty feet, easily enough to ascend this four story building. With a quick tug to ensure its security he started his climb. He made his way up the first two floors with an eye to the third where he noticed a window cracked. Upon reaching the ledge of the third floor he stood to the side and carefully peered in. He caught a quick glance of a woman’s figure which appeared to be partially if not entirely uncostumed. He positioned himself to get a better look.
Batman moved around to the other side of the window and assumed a position to provide stealth but with a viewline to capture everything. He peered into the window. The woman inside had an incredible figure. He could easily make out her large, firm breasts with perfect pink nipples and well rounded hips that flowed into muscular legs. This woman appeared to have no shame with her body as she traipsed across the room with the balletic grace of a woman deciding what to wear and getting ready to go out. Batman took his crime fighting very seriously but this was a perk that he could not resist. He felt his cock stiffen against his tights. He could not take his eyes off her. With each movement, her bosoms moved in unison. Normally, his costume gave him a civil obedience that he did not have to obey as Bruce Wayne. However, this temptress was testing that crossover. Finally, his eyes moved off her body and to her head as she began to unwrap the towel off of her head. He did a double take as he recognized the face. “Oh my God,” he thought, “this isn’t Batgirl, it’s Barbara Gordon. I’m looking in the wrong apartment.” And then, on cue, the ledge gave partially away and Batman lost his balance and came crashing through the window.
“Batman!” Barbara screamed, “what are you doing here?” She quickly grabbed for the towel she just took off her head and wrapped it around her glistening body.
“I am sorry, Miss Gordon,” as he deliberately tried to look down at the floor, “but I was just ah, trying to, ah, work out on, ah…”
“I cannot believe that they sent you over.”
“M-me?” Batman stammered.
“Why yes. You’re responding to my call. One of my tenants in 4B called me complaining of somebody on the roof. I told him it was probably kids playing but just to make sure I would call the police and have them check it out. I hope they did not send you just because I am the Commissioner’s daughter. I mean you only deal with the major criminals not creepy trespassers, right?”
Fantastic. She was giving him the out he needed. “Er, yes, Miss Gordon, that’s right arch criminals is my specialty but I heard the call come in over the police radio and since I was in the neighborhood I took it upon myself to respond.”
Barbara adjusted her robe to give the illusion of being helpless and push her breasts up just a little bit more. It was timed just as Batman was taking his eyes off the pattern of her rug to speak.
“So I” -the sight of her adjustment made him blush at the embarrassment of his situation-“I better be going to check out the, ah, roof situation. Say hello to your father er, ah, maybe it’s best if you don’t, ah, tell your father we saw each other. ” He could not believe how he was squirming. He decided it would be best just to turn around and leave.
“Batman,” he heard he call just as he was stepping out of the window, “you weren’t checking me out before you entered were you?” There was an air of suggestion in her voice.
His first thought was “I hope these kevlar shorts are hiding my hard-on.” He responded, “Of course, not Miss Gordon, I, ah merely slipped as I was heading to your roof. It happens more often than most citizens think. I will send someone by tomorrow to fix this window. Good night.” He hoped she was not observant enough to realize that he was heading down the rope and not up to the roof. He rationalized to minimize the chance of damage and danger, just like a crime scene.
As soon as she was sure Batman was out of her apartment Barbara ran to the transmitter and took it apart. She manipulated the tracking mechanism so that it showed Batgirl on the move. If Batman wanted to follow her, let him, but he would be following a shadow. She plotted an intelligent course that led from her apartment to Gotham’s Central Park and eventually ended in the Great Lake where the signal died. That should give him something to think about.

“Alfred, I did the stupidest thing today,” Bruce Wayne confided to his butler, “I almost jeopardized my whole crime fighting career.”
“How was that, sir?” Alfred replied. After so many years of serving one person he had a way of acknowledging remarks with a question. It was a way of pretending to listen and pretending to care. Not that he did not. Bruce Wayne, afterall, had been extremely generous to him and with the stock options granted every year, Alfred had amassed a sizable fortune. However, the wealth did not inspire him. He had been surrounded by money his entire adult life and his father’s life before him. He knew it did not ensure happiness and, in fact, attracted loneliness. Through many of Bruce’s lonely rantings Alfred had learned to partially tune out.
“I was tracking Batgirl trying to find out her identity when all of the sudden I ran into Barbara Gordon, naked, in her apartment, and I never realized how well that young girl has blossomed, and that she is not a young girl anymore, and how distracted I was from fighting crime with this Batgirl thing, and me having to train her, can you believe that train her, and how perfect Barbara’s tits are, and a neatly trimmed beaver, too, and what if Batgirl’s carelessness puts me in a situation I cannot get out of, and why was the Commissioner so insistent on me helping her…”
This discourse threatened to ramble on for some time. “Well, sir,” Alfred interrupted, which of the two is the more pressing problem: discovering Batgirl or getting into Miss Gordon’s trousers?” Alfred amused himself when his language would slide cautiously over to the naughty side.
“Definitely Batgirl,” Bruce answered abruptly, “no, banging Barbara. I don’t know both.”
“Maybe they are one in the same problem, Mister Wayne,” Alfred offered wisely.
“What? Weren’t you listening to anything I said? I swear, Alfred, sometimes I think it is time to retire you.”

The next evening Batgirl arrived at the Commissioner’s office precisely at ten.
“Batgirl,” Gordon inquired, “what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to go out patrolling with Batman.”
“I thought so, too, Commissioner, although apparently finding me was not as easy as he thought.” She casually took a seat on the edge of his desk.
O’Hara, taking her attitude as brazen, tried to defend the Caped Crusader. “What have you done to trick him, you vixen? If Batman says he’ll find you, he will.”
“I am sure you are correct, Chief O’Hara, but tonight he will find me here.” Just then the red Hotline buzzed. Batgirl could not resist, “Commissioner, may I?” as she motioned to the phone.
“Go ahead,” he allowed almost dreamily. O’Hara glared at him.
Batgirl picked up the phone, “Yes, Batman, where are you? Should we be expecting you soon? I will be here waiting. Let’s hope no crimes happen until then. Bye.” Batgirl could barely contain her glee but knew enough not to ridicule the man in front of his two staunchest supporters. “He is on his way.”

Batman entered the Commissioner’s office offering no apologies. He spoke directly to Gordon and O’Hara. “Good evening, gentlemen. Are there any new breakthroughs I should know about?”
“Word on the street is that Catwoman is back, Batman, but we have no leads or clues as to who she is this time or what she is up to,” O’Hara reported. “I trust you will be providing us with more shortly.”
“Of course, Chief. Well, Batgirl,” finally acknowledging her, “are you ready?”

They agreed to travel together with Batgirl taking the seat formally occupied by Robin. Batman wanted to control the situation with her as much as possible plus, through conversation, possibly obtain a better bead on whom she might be. Batgirl agreed to the arrangement knowing that the more time they spent together, the more he would accept her as a true partner in crime fighting.
Batman decided to begin the night with a little hand to hand combat. Rather than testing her himself, he thought he would see her in action. He drove to a particularly seedy section of the city and stopped the car. “Okay, lesson one, battling the bad guys. Follow me”
He led her through a few alleys that finally open up into a concrete park. Trouble was about to burst in front of them. Two gangs were squared off, ready to rumble. Batgirl did not like the numbers.
“What’s your costume made out of?” he asked.
“Bulletproof kevlar like yours, why?” she asked back.
“Go break that up then,” and he motioned to the gangs.
“Just me?” she looked at Batman unassured. Was he trying to get rid of her by having her maimed on their first night?
“Don’t worry, I will back you up with more than you can imagine.”
“Okay, but I’m trusting you,” she said as if he cared.
Batman watched ready to jump in and assist. He knew she could fight well one-on-one or even two-on-one. Her record demonstrated that. But fighting a gang required strategic fighting and stamina. He had to know what she was made of.
Batgirl scaled the fence of the basketball court with impressive ease. He observed her call out to them and noticed the surprise of the two gangs as an unexpected combatant arrived. He adjusted his position as the gangs circled around her and momentarily blocked his view. Their posture was threatening but nothing happened yet. There were a few shouts back and forth and invitations to get it on. Batman saw Batgirl separate two guys with her arms. He surmised they were the leaders. One of the leaders pushed her into the other leader. Then the configuration of the crowd changed again and once more, he lost sight of her. Batman thought this was the time to enter but surprisingly the action did not begin. He tried for a higher position to see better and swoop down but then the incredible occurred. The two gangs moved apart and began to walk away. Some even exchanged the street equivalent of shaking hands. As the sea of bodies parted he saw Batgirl emerge and head back toward him.
“What was that all about?” he demanded, “I thought I was going to get to see you in action.”
“What do you mean, Batman, you did see me in action.” Why was he so odd sometimes?
“That wasn’t action,” he continued, “there were no punches, no kicks, and frankly no peril. That’s not what I sent you out for.”
“Listen, Batman, if the situation dictated it I was prepared to execute. However, you asked me to intervene in a situation where I had no chance of success. The numbers were overwhelmingly to my disadvantage; I counted the steps I took and calculated that, at your best, it would you take eight seconds to respond and in those eight seconds I could be dead. So, I reasoned the best way to battle bad guys is prevention. I talked to the leaders listened to the situation. I asked each for a non-violent alternative to their turf issue. Surprisingly, each offered the same solution. I believe they walked away happy.”
“But that was not the purpose of this lesson. Why didn’t you use a smoke bomb or starburst from your utility belt as you climbed over the fence to gain the upper hand?”
Batgirl restrained her frustration over not receiving recognition for a job well done. “Batman, I chose not to use any of my tools because up to that point no crime had been committed. I will not instigate a crime just to break it up.”
“Of course not, Batgirl, but surely you must have seen that they were about to commit a crime. You would have just been containing it.”
“I’m not so sure about that, Batman. When I arrived it became clear that they were there to air their differences but fighting was not necessarily their first option. The numbers were more for posturing.”
“Please, Batgirl, anyone could see that they were the type for violent behavior.”
“What do you mean, Batman?”
He appeared frustrated as well. Was she testing me? “Batgirl, tell me that there clothing and rap music and gold was not a dead give away for trouble?”
“Batman, are you saying that because they were black that I should assume they were about to commit a crime.”
“I didn’t say that race was the only determining factor but you must statistically consider it in criminal situations.”
“Don’t even go there, Batman. You are giving a couch potato editorial to a scene you observed but did not participate in. Let’s drop this and go on to lesson two.” Batgirl was disgusted.

Fortunately, the rest of the evening went very well. Batgirl and Batman alternated taking the lead in several criminal altercations. After each arrest they assessed what happened, what caused the situation, and how it could have been handled better. Batman was not patronizing when criticizing Batgirl rather offering constructive feedback. She, in turn felt she was given the opportunity to demonstrate her skills. Batman talked a lot about preparation and how crucial it was in dealing with arch criminals. He went through the list detailing their history and patterns. He outlined how they filled the void left when Commissioner Gordon went on his crusade against organized crime after his wife was kidnapped and murdered. He explained that the Commissioner did such a thorough job that a newer more nefarious mind cropped up and quickly overwhelmed the Gotham City police. Batgirl bit her lip hard to appear neutral in the wake of criticism against her father. Even though Batman had put several away, many returned either through breakouts or holes in the criminal justice system.
The night ended at dawn and they agreed to meet again the following night although Batman cautioned her that they would not be together every night. He wanted to introduce her to his level of crime fighting gradually. She agreed but knew she would impress him enough to accelerate through his training. On the way home removed another homing device he had attached to her bike.

The second night picked up where the previous night ended. They apprehended criminals and reviewed the circumstances. Batgirl liked working as a pair with Batman. At one point during an instruction she caught herself fantasizing about him entering her apartment again and having his way with her. Somehow as Barbara Gordon she found him exciting and dangerous. The mere thought of him eyeing her naked body again was enough to dampen her crotch. When he caught her with her attention wandering she snapped back into the officious Batgirl and re-focused her alertness on his message.
Somewhere in the middle of their fifth night, Batman suggested they head out of town to a special training facility he had. It was a sound idea to Batgirl and she thought it would give her greater insight into his methods. Once there, Batman worked her hard with running, gymnastics, and climbing. After a couple hours Batgirl had worked up a healthy sweat and felt the acid in her muscles burning. Batman noticed her fatigue and asked:
“Are you okay to continue.”
Not wanting to appear weak Batgirl replied with out hesitation, “Of course, what’s next?”
“More hand to hand combat,” and without pausing Batman began to attack Batgirl with a combination of punches and kicks.
With her sapped energy and tired reflexes to defend herself, Batgirl block the shots but did not retaliate. “What are you doing, Batman?” she managed to blurt out.
“I’m fighting you, of course,” as he released another barrage of moves designed to attack aggressively. “When you are most tired that is when you must be most prepared for combat. Trust me, that is how the arch criminals think.” At his last word he landed with a spinning kick that sent Batgirl flying.
She fought back refusing to be intimidated and not sure how far he planned on taking this exercise. Batgirl was well schooled in the martial arts and seemed to score more points the more she felt Batman was about to overtake her. After a particularly sharp blow to Batman’s ribs that jarred him, he changed gears and increased the tempo of his assault. Soon all Batgirl could do was try to block as many blows as possible and avoid being knocked out. Batman was very adept at switching and combining martial art disciplines and, before she could prevent it, he was behind her with one arm locking both of hers behind her back. With hand of his free arm he reached in front of her face and grabbed the bottom of her mask.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a panic.
“Isn’t it obvious Batgirl? I’m about to unmask you.”
“But…why?” she labored between breaths, “aren’t we working together?”
“First of all, if I were a criminal I might not hesitate to reveal your identity and use it for my evil advantage, and your unprepared fatigue just gave me the opportunity. Second, while it is true we are paired together for now, I prefer to know with whom I am working,” and with those words he lifted her mask a bit higher.
Part of Batgirl-the Barbara Gordon part-wanted him to rip off her mask, her costume, and make passionate love to her. It would be her adolescent dream come true. However, the Batgirl in her had more fight. “Wait right there, Batman. Just who in the hell do you think you are? What is your perverse obsession with my secret identity? Does it kill you not to know everything? I have put up with your damn silly transmitters every night for the past week without saying a word. I have met every contest you have put before me so far and shown I can contribute to the betterment of Gotham City. Now you want to try and expose me? For whose benefit, Batman?
“If you can figure out my identity with cunning and intelligence, fine, I accept the challenge. However, if you expose me now or later solely through your superior strength than you are no better than the preying villains that you have sworn to apprehend. Respect me, Batman and let me go.”
Batman’s was torn. With his body pressed hard against hers he debated what to do. What she said was true. He hadn’t really tricked her just overwhelmed her. However, he also felt that this may be his best chance to find out who she is. He still gripped tightly onto her mask and cowl. He wasn’t used to hesitating and fighting doubts about his behavior.
“Listen, Batman, I’ll go you one better,” Batgirl started up again, “take off your mask and I will gladly take off mine. You won’t have to take advantage of me to achieve your aim.”
She had him in a stand-off. He knew he wouldn’t-he couldn’t-reveal himself to her. At least not now. He longed for someone other than Alfred and Robin share his duplicity but he was not prepared to enter that type of relationship yet. He loosened his grip slowly and then let go completely.
Batgirl spun around. “So what’s it going to be Batman? Masks off?” She was still breathing hard but kept her eyes up and locked into his.
He did not immediately answer. “Go,” he finally replied, “get on your bike and go. Tutoring is over for the night.”
Batgirl left, shaking inside and furious at him, but with the added knowledge that beneath his costume, he was a troubled man.

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

The next few weeks served as a cooling off period for the Caped Crusaders of justice. They had not made any plans to meet since the incident at the Bat-training ground. Batgirl used the break as an opportunity to apply some new techniques to her crime fighting. Batman used the time to try and work some leads on Catwoman who was beginning to make noise in crime circles. The pattern was similar to one he had seen before. The crimes start small but had an element of ambition. Soon they would escalate and have the citizens of Gotham City up in arms and pressuring the mayor or the Commissioner to do something.
Batman actually spent more time in the Batcave than in the streets tracking Catwoman. She would be more difficult to track at this point because the acts of crime would be more random. As her confidence and team of criminal cohorts grew, she would have to seek bigger paydays. Tonight, he was trying to track her by profiling the thugs she would most likely recruit for her efforts. Some choices were obvious but he did not have enough information on this catwoman to know exactly how she would operate.
This was the fourth Catwoman to invade Gotham City. The myth of nine lives with this criminal mastermind was when one Catwoman went down, another seemed to spring up. Catwoman was one of the first villains Batman squared off against after the Joker. While he had been mad and unconscionably evil, she had been cunning and playful. At first, he almost mistook that playfulness for ease and barely escaped certain death trap she had set. The second Catwoman worked alone and was more of a modern day Robin Hood. It created a lot of friction among fringe groups in the City when he eventually captured her. The last Catwoman came from the alley and had a mean and territorial spirit. He did not capture her. She was betrayed by the crime syndicate when they thought her greed and tactics had gone too far. The only thing he was able to determine about this Catwoman was her obviousness. That is, her markings at the crime scenes tended to say ‘look at me’ more than being focused on the bounty. He would learn more about her after a few more crimes.
One thing each of the Catwomen had in common was an indescribable beauty. It was not traditional or classic beauty but it had a feral quality that was impossible to resist. They were statuesque, superbly athletic, and with costumes that grasped their bodies in any position. The first Catwoman really caught Batman off guard with her sensuality and it was not until he was led into peril that he was able to shake off the attraction. Even then, a wisp of it remained. With the others, he carefully kept his distance so that he could focus on the crimes not the criminals. He had an intuitive suspicion that the second Catwoman and Robin had some sort of encounter. Despite his urgings as both Batman and Bruce Wayne neither Robin nor Dick would elaborate on what had happened. Both Robin and Dick became more difficult to control after that but he attributed it to being a teenager more than anything else.

After several nights on her own, Batgirl began to wonder and slightly pine for Batman’s presence again. She liked to learn and he offered her the best chance for filling that craving. All through school and college the quest for information drove her and kept her up at nights. Her mastery of the computer was really a natural extension as it opened up new vistas for her research. She wished she had a way to speak to Batman. If nothing else she wanted to know where she stood with him.
Barbara found herself combing the newspapers for crime stories and watching news features about felonious acts. She was thrilled to hear stories in which she was the featured hero but it was also frustrating because she had no one to share the victory with. She liked the new investigative reporter on Action News, Selina Calle. She seemed to have a good feel for reporting on crime and had particularly good instincts on scooping the other reporters on the increasing crime spree of Catwoman. She knew Batman would be hot on that trail so she began to research it is as well hoping that she would run into Batman along the way or maybe even break the case and win his respect for ever.
The life she had chosen for herself took some bizarre twists that no diary or chat room companion could ever sort out. Batgirl missed Batman and feared her defiance of him had alienated them. She was willing to put his attack of her behind them but did have an opportunity to even address it with him. Barbara Gordon missed Batman and longed for him to enter her apartment again. Next chance, she would entertain him in more ways than parading naked for him. Somehow, that experience liberated her (or her school girl fantasy at least) and now, as an adult, she was prepared to fulfill it. What she couldn’t figure was how to lure him back. Leading him to the apartment as Batgirl again was not an option for she respected his intelligence too much. Twice would not be a coincidence. It would mean handing him her identity.
Unfortunately for Barbara, just as she was getting the hots for Batman, Bruce Wayne had, for some reason, developed an interest in her. She found it a bit annoying. He would show up at events where she was attending and even arranged a meeting for her to meet the Waynetech Board of Directors to consider her for membership. As timing would have it, she had agreed months ago to have him escort her to some social function. At the time neither were too pleased with the obligation. However, now he treated it as a coming out. In one of the junctures where they found themselves alone with each other, he confided that he thought her body was outrageous and he had to have it. Although he worded it a bit more gallantly, his intentions were clear. What she could not figure out was why he all of the sudden he was aware of her figure. She wore gowns that were more stylish than revealing. Further, to the best of her knowledge he had not seen her in a bathing suit since college and her shape had matured since then.
Barbara thanked him for the compliment and desire but declined the offer to be with him. Rejecting him outright and publicly would do neither of them good (too much fodder for gossip rags), so she told him that her monthly visitor had just arrived and hoped to close the subject there.

As Batman surrounded himself with the most sophisticated computerized tools in the Batcave studying Catwoman’s crime spree, Batgirl’s efforts began to receive more attention and accolades in the newspapers. He felt a little pride in her success attributing some of the credit to the polishing he had given her. She was good but he worried that in her exuberance she might get sloppy. He knew he should check in with her but he kept letting it slide. Her rising popularity put a little added pressure on him so he worked deep into the nights to stop Catwoman in her tracks before her personal crime wave paralyzed the city.
He worked in the Batcave in costume sans his cowled mask as was his custom. The outfit gave him the mental edge he needed to focus on his crime fighting work without being bothered by the cumbersome hood. Plus, he was ready to go on a moment’s notice. Alfred tended to any needs he had while working in the Batcave. The other members of the Wayne Manor domestic staff had long ago became used to long periods of not seeing their employer around the house. It was known that Alfred was the one lone member of his staff that knew his schedule best. However, with Bruce Wayne and his playboy reputation, it was never a perfect science.
Cross-referencing data on recent parolees and Catwoman’s emerging pattern, Batman hit pay dirt. A skilled jewel thief with long rap sheet and no capital was released six weeks ago. Given his record he would never be able to secure employment so it was only a matter of time before he would be looking to apply his skills. If Batman guessed correctly, Catwoman would be looking to step up her profile and target the arriving display of priceless South African diamonds scheduled for the Gotham Metropolitan Museum. It was time to move out of the cave and into the street.
Catwoman would want to strike quickly since the display had been receiving significant advanced press. Batman would have to rely on the Gotham police by day and handle the stakeouts at night. His second night proved his calculations correct. He had posted his own extra security cameras while in the museum as Bruce Wayne knowing that Catwoman would find a way to circumvent the museum’s surveillance. When he saw the figures moving inside from his monitor in the Batmobile, he sprung into action.
He quickly made his way into the Museum. Without any alarms responding to his entrance he knew that Catwoman’s team did a thorough job on the security system. With barely a flutter he made his way to the diamond exhibit. He could make out four figures-three males and the fourth figure was a female to rival all figures. She was Catwoman and she pranced around the display in her leather-clad glory. She had both grace and malice. She was going to be one tough hellcat to bring down but Gotham City was looking to him to do it.
He surveyed the room anticipating which exit routes they would choose when he attacked. “Take the closest one first,” he thought, “and save Catwoman for last or second to last.” In a flash he had victim number one down and out cold. As he moved toward the second thug he recognized him as the jewel expert. Not much of a challenge, however, right before he connected Catwoman jumped in and blocked his shot. Quicker than he had ever seen, she then swept his legs out from under him with her own forcing him to land hard on his back. He sprang quickly up and squared off to take her on. They exchanged a series of rapid shots with neither one connecting solidly.
“Give up now, Catwoman, you can never win this game. Not with me after you,” he urged her as they circled each other.
“Oh Batman,” she purred confidently, “I win in everything. It’s kind of my trademark.”
He decided not to get in a word game with her. She could control the situation better the more she talked. He spun, missed with a kick to the body and missed again with a backhand shot to the head. Each time she avoided his strikes with lightening quickness.
“You are not getting old and slow one me yet are you. Batman?” she teased.
“Catwoman, the only one getting old will be you in prison.” Batman feigned another kick but grabbed her and applied a throw. He caught Catwoman off guard but she reacted well and as she came over his shoulder she held onto his arm causing him to topple over onto the marble floor as well. They wrestled and with each controlling move that Batman applied Catwoman was able to squirm out of it. With frantic grabs of various body parts their entangled bodies slid over each other in a carnally choreographed battle. Finally while on his back, Batman was able to secure Catwoman with her body on top of him, lined up anatomically-legs to legs, groins to groins, chests to chests, face to face, and mask to mask. He held her tightly in his arms in a bear hug.
“Meow, Batman, I like your idea of foreplay,” Catwoman purred with tussled hair and deep but seductive breaths.
“Save it, Catwoman your time is up.” Thankfully, his kevlar shorts were saving him embarrassment again by suppressing and hiding his throbbing erection. He, too, was breathing hard, part from the fight, part from excitement.
“No Batman, our appointed time has not yet come but trust me, it will come. And come again, I promise.” She then moved her mouth to his and planted a passionate, full lipped kiss on him. Batman did not attempt to shake her off immediately and his delay allowed the effect of the drug coating her lips to penetrate him. He immediately felt woozy and disoriented.
“Catwoman, what have you done to me?” Batman demanded as his grip loosened and began to feel numb all over. Catwoman pushed herself up and sat up on his chest.
“Well, Batman, it looks like I have done myself in. The catnip you are now digesting causes temporary paralysis. I’m afraid I have made you into a cat-tease tonight. Even with my powers, I could not expect much of anything from you now if I used my bag of sexual secrets. Your Bat stick is more like Bat putty right about now. But don’t worry. This is one Cat who has not stopped playing with its prey. Rrrrraowl!”
She slid down to his abdomen and glided her hands over his ribs to his chest and squeezed the firm pectoral muscles. Her touch felt great even in his altered state. She then raised his head by lifting him behind the neck and planted a kiss on his hooded forehead. She whispered something into his ear that he could not make out but somehow understood. He nodded slowly. In his mind he continued to feel lust but looked limply in her eyes. “Well, gotta go, Batboy,” and she let go of his neck. His head hit the marble hard. Catwoman got up, gathered her hardware, and made her escape. Batman would awake in an hour with a massive headache and no visible after effects.

The news of the following morning did nothing to soothe the hangover feeling plaguing Bruce Wayne. One of the local channels had exclusive full video coverage of his encounter with Catwoman. Her daring crime and victorious escape were played over and over again. Worse of all, from the camera angle it looked like his own video camera supplied the footage of his humiliation. “That bitch,” he hissed, she knew the camera was there all along. She played me.” He did not see the reporter, Selina Calle, but heard her as a voice-over describing the events while adding commentary about the police department’s, and now Batman’s, inability to reel her in. “Don’t worry, miss,” Bruce mumbled, “she and I will meet again.”
He checked his electronic calendar and thought about canceling his attendance at the Gotham Women’s Club. He could sense that the gnawing pain would not last but he could not tell if it would be subside by the afternoon. Fortunately or unfortunately - he wasn’t sure - the luncheon was not until the next day. He decided to return some calls, send some e-mails, and go back to bed. More crime fighting would have to wait a day.

Barbara Gordon awoke the day of the luncheon excited, emotionally and sexually. It had been some time since she had seen Batman and the thought of being next to him all afternoon gave her a thrill. Although taller than most women she felt diminutive and safe next to him. She knew she was quite adept at protecting herself but around him, as Barbara, she felt a secured awe. Maybe it was due to her knowledge that he could dominate her - willfully as Barbara and unwillingly as Batgirl. Either way, his physical presence charged her. She contemplated masturbating to relieve her morning dampness and horniness but decided not to, preferring the edge of anticipation.

The luncheon turnout was impressive. Sitting on the dais Barbara noted all the women who had missed recent events anxiously taking their seats. “I guess everyone craves a little danger,” she thought, “it’s just that some want to be near it, others want to be it.” Batman had left a message that he would be exactly on time for his acceptance speech and that the ceremony should start as planned even if he wasn’t there for the start. The women pushed food around their plate pretending to eat and when Barbara stood to begin her introduction, all forks were placed correctly on their plates indicating a finished meal.
Barbara began reviewing some of the accomplishments of the group over the past year. Then she segued to talking about the history of the award and past recipients. Finally, Batman arrived and walked up to the podium and stood next to her. Playing off of her own repressed sexual energy as well as the ladies in the audience she concluded her introduction, “So, without further ado, Batman, it is our pleasure and honor to present you with GWC’s award for being Gotham City’s most eligible bachelor. Further, as a bachelorette, I think I speak for all the women here when I say we would love to know what is beneath that Batbelt.”
With the final comment she meant to make an obvious but humorous gesture of reaching down to his crotch area. However, by a fluke of her motion with his movement toward her to speak, her hand fell under his belt and slid perfectly between the kevlar shorts and Lycra undergarment. She landed directly on his cock. She stopped in her tracks and surveyed the territory. He was huge! Even though it was relaxed it had to be eight to ten inches long. She did not want to remove her hand and when she realized that the podium blocked the other women’s view of what was transpiring, she decided to milk it. Batman looked her in the eye with a trace of concern but, nevertheless, began speaking calmly and coolly to the audience. Barbara knew she could not stay up at the podium with him as he spoke so she decided to squeeze it once more for remembrance and trace it until its tip. As she gently removed her hand from his shorts she thought she felt him twinge with response but when she looked at his shorts she saw it appeared the same. “Oh well, I may have imagined his enthusiasm but the goods are real,” she mused to herself as she say down.
After giving a perfunctory and surprisingly politically correct speech, Batman thanked the audience and turned to Barbara. “I guess we are even now,” he offered wryly.
“I’d like to think that now you owe me one,” she entreated into his ear as she rose to applaud.
“Er, yes, well, er, I should be going. It was a pleasure to see you again, I mean, well, thank you for the honor.”
He is so cute when flustered she thought. “You know where to find me if you need me, Batman.” He turned his head back to look at her as he left and waved to the audience before disappearing off stage.

After Batman left, Barbara knew to close the program. Too many women were still swooning from their proximity to him to care much about any other orders of business. So she made a few remarks and concluded the meeting. Waiting for her offstage was Selina Calle, the news reporter.
“Excuse me, Miss Gordon,” she said politely, “I am Selina Calle, Action News, may I have a few words with you?”
Barbara took her in. She was more attractive than on TV and taller, too. They were about the same height but she carried herself more statuesquely which gave her the appearance of looking down even when she looked you in the eye. Nevertheless, despite some reservations Barbara had since her reporting had been critical of Gotham’s crime fighters, she was drawn to her and felt like she should spend more time with her. “Yes, of course,” she replied matching her courteousness.
Selina noticed Barbara primping her hair and registering the status of her makeup with her compact. She had not planned on asking her any questions for the camera but decided that she better now as not to offend her. She prompted her cameraman, Ramon, to put the camera back on his shoulder and asked Barbara a few mindless questions about the event. She could have written the trite responses herself but appeared interested being conscious that celebrity sells. She thanked Barbara for her time and asked her indulgence for a few more questions on a different topic.
“It depends,” Barbara answered cautiously. Ever since she had become part of Gotham’s spotlight, she had to be careful not to get caught in situations that would pit her against her equally public father. Selina sent her cameraman back to the studio and promised the rest would be off the record. The reporter was very friendly and funny and, although asking serious questions, took the bite out of situation with reflections and her own opinions. Barbara decided she liked her in person and invited Selina to her gym for a workout.
Barbara felt comfortable telling her she did not appreciate the slant she put on some of her stories. Selina defended her actions by saying she was new in town and needed an angle to compete in the cutthroat business. They agreed to disagree on various topics. Selina admitted to Barbara that she saw her hand go down Batman’s costume. Barbara played coy but after an exchange of denials and vows never to repeat the story, Barbara told her how she managed to slip into Batman’s shorts. Selina pressed for more details but Barbara decided to conclude it by assuring her that Batman could define the term “package”.
After a workout of weights and karate they headed to the locker rooms, both glowing in perspiration.
The facilities were upscale but not sumptuous. Barbara had told Selina she preferred this setting since it had privacy but the people came were there for a workout not just a rubdown and cocktails. In the moment between removing her karate outfit and covering herself in a towel she her Selina call out.
“Damn girl, you got one rock hard body for a millionaire, Barbara.”
The way Selina said it, Barbara became conscious for the first time that Selina had a Latin background. Her normal diction was news-anchor, middle American. Her comment made Barbara momentarily blush but then she stood naked in front of Selina for an extended period and asked, “do you think so?”
“You know you got it going on, girlfriend,” and with that Selina opened her tunic and pulled down her pants. She was still wearing her panties. She stood upright facing Barbara and, though they had a comfortable distance between their faces, the size and pertness of each of their bosoms allowed for only a hair to separate their nipples. An electrical current was formed.
“I should be the one admiring,” Barbara commented as she broke contact with Selina’s eyes and moved down her body. You have the best body I have ever seen and, by the way, you can pump some serious iron, too.”
“Well, I do not have a choice,” Selina replied. “You know how unflattering the camera is. I need to keep in shape just to look dumpy. Great shape keeps me slightly above average.” She took the opportunity to look at Barbara a bit more closely. Her breasts were flawless. Stomach cut. And, she kept her pubic hair neat but not bikini cut or her preference in others, bare. She was put together well and it was tempting. Realizing that nothing would ever happen there (Barbara would be too image conscious), she reached for a towel and handed Barbara one as well. Barbara caught it but stood distracted for a second then thanked her as she wrapped it around.
“So Barbara, I couldn’t help but notice that you are quite capable in the karate ring. Are all millionaires able to attack and defend themselves that well?”
“I just know about myself. I was lucky, after I won the lottery last year I took a year off and studied martial arts with many of the masters in the East. It was a wonderful experience and has made me, as you say, capable.”
“I’ll say but you couldn’t have learned all that stuff in one year. This isn’t the movies.”
“No you’re right, Selina, I have been practicing for years. I started in college because and old boyfriend did tae kwon do and I wanted to spend more time with him but things work out.” Barbara drifted toward the end of that last part.
“It sounds like there is more of a story there. Come on Barbara, ’fess up.”
“Well, I’d rather not, it’s a bit complicated,” Barbara began but she continued to be drawn in by Selina, “okay, I’ll tell you. But this is without question off the record and if I ever hear it again you will find out how good I am in the martial arts.”
“Okay, okay let’s go into the sauna and you can tell me in the privacy there.” Selina was dying to know but kept aware of the tools for making people feel secure and comfortable. That way she always got the information she wanted.
In the sauna they removed their towels and sat adjacent to each other. Neither could get a full view of the other’s body but their nakedness spelled nothing to hide.

“Going away to college was a big liberation for me. After all those years of virtual protective custody I was finally free to do what I wanted when I wanted. Unfortunately, after a sequestered high school my social skills to do those things was a bit challenged.
Anyway, in typical freshman fashion I immediately developed a crush on one of the most popular boys in my year. He was not privileged but he was handsome and smart. He barely knew I existed since we only had one class together and that was a lecture hall. So after stalking him for a semester I learned what his interests were. Turns out he was the top amateur tae kwon do champion in the state. Also, it turns out that this includes his own set of groupies.
Well, he organized a martial arts club in the school since it didn’t offer one before and he served as the instructor. Of course, I signed up and read everything about it so that I could improve and make my mark on him. By sophomore year I was beginning to feel comfortable with the motions and release of the sport. At least I was good enough for him to use me to demonstrate certain moves.
One session, while he was sparring with me in front of the class-probably to show off his superiority-I caught him off guard and nailed him good. When he tried to counter with an easy move I made good contact and knocked him off his feet. He got up quickly but I could tell he was pissed.
The rest of the lesson went uneventfully and at the end of the session he asked me to stay behind. I thought he was going to kick me out of the class but instead he asked for me to go through the moves again so he could learn from his mistakes.
As we went back to sparring, just the two of us, I quickly realized he had another agenda: to teach me a lesson. He attacked aggressively but I fended him off pretty well. Then he moved to strike me in the chest area but his shot missed and he grabbed my kimono. Well for whatever reason I wasn’t wearing a bra that day and my breast spilled out, embarrassing me to the nth degree. He seized on my discomfit and threw me to the ground and sat on my torso just below my chest.
He then ripped the whole robe open simultaneously exposing me and restricting my arms with the material. To this day I’m not sure how he did that. Anyway, he starts going on in like a lecture format about how I can never lose concentration even if my clothing isn’t right because the end result is that I defeated and exposed anyway. I lay there seeing my tits out there and him straddling me thinking how can this get any worse? He answered with his question ‘So what do think I deserve for conquering you?’ Before my mind could even think of what he could be implying, he whips out his little dick and starts stroking it. Then he lifts my head and brings it to him. Well I’m as good as country because I have no idea what to do and he says “C’mon kiss it and put it in your mouth.’ I gave it a little peck but didn’t know if he meant putting the whole thing, balls and all, in my mouth or just the penis. Impatient, he moved my head closer so I had no choice but to accept it and once in my mouth it began to grow and I instinctively started sucking on it like a freeze pop. I’m not sure what he was expecting but soon he pushed my back down, hard, and flipped me over into an all fours position and pulled down my pants. I told him ‘no, please don’t’ but he was already there and stuck his little prick in my vagina from behind. It was humiliating to lose my virginity that way. Then he starts spreading stories about me and how easy I was.
The worst thing was there was nothing I could do.”
“God, Barbara, that’s awful. He raped you. Why didn’t you call the police?”
“You don’t understand, Selina. The circumstances were vague. It was my word against his. I knew what he did was reprehensible and would have advised anyone else to go to the police. But with my circumstances I knew the consequences would be different. I am the Commissioner’s daughter. I grew up with cops looking out for me. I knew that if I reported him it never would have made it to trial. Justice would have happened the Blue way. Despite how awful his act was, I could not condemn him to death.”
“So what did you do, Barb?”
“I improved. I left his class and practiced elsewhere and researched intensely. By my Senior year I knew I was pretty good. Maybe I was not good enough to beat him but at least good enough to hurt him. I challenged the state rules that prohibited mixed fighting and won. I then entered the Championships with the sole intention of meeting him somewhere in the tournament. As luck of the draw would have it our brackets would not meet until the finals. Undaunted, I worked my way through the brackets, as I knew he would. In the finals he tried to talk me into withdrawing saying he did not want to hurt me because he liked me. Hah!”
“So, what happened? Did you beat him?” Selina’s curiosity was piqued.
“The records show that he was the winner by disqualification but, yeah, I won. I overwhelmed him and hurt him enough to make him suffer but not enough to give up. That is until I reached down and yanked his balls from him.”
“Are you serious, girlfriend?”
“All I know is that he was hospitalized for awhile and when he was released he did not come back to school but transferred somewhere else. One of my science lab partners who was pre-med told me there was so much damage that they had to remove them. I got my fair justice.”

Barbara went home after the gym feeling slightly high. She had taken some old baggage out of her closet and felt a closeness with someone she believed was just like her. Maybe someday she and I will be close enough to share my Batgirl secret she thought into the future. But now, getting into bed, Barbara felt horny again. It had been a full day even without crime fighting. The surprise at lunch. An invigorating workout. She retrieved her vibrator and turned it on. She moved it over her nipples and slowly brought it down over her stomach to the aroused area of her vagina. She let it rest on her clitoris and, as it buzzed, her frenzy exploded into a gushing orgasm. In her moans and cries she called out Batman’s name. And Selina’s.

The following day Barbara told herself she had to find a way to see Batman again. Even if it was as Batgirl. In fact, that would be all the better since one, they had not been out together since the incident (as she had taken to calling it) and two, she thought differently of him when Batgirl and that other perspective would aid her in planning her next steps. The only problem was figuring out a way to get in touch with him. She did not want her father or O’Hara to think she had failed as Batman’s tutor so she was hesitant to go to the Commissioner’s office and ask him to relay a message to Batman. They would find that odd. No, she needed something that would get Batman’s attention, even if it were a bit risky.
Later in the afternoon Barbara stopped by her father’s office. She knew that he would be away but acted forgetful and asked his secretary if it would be okay to leave a note for him on his desk. She was there so often, she knew it would not be a problem. Once in, she closed the door and went to the Batphone. She picked up the receiver and pressed the button just as she had seen her father do time and again. It barely rang once.
“Yes Commissioner,” Batman responded. She could tell he was driving.
“Batman, this is Batgirl.” Barbara wasn’t sure whether to change her voice or not but reckoned the immediate introduction and the firm tone would prompt his recognition appropriately.
“Batgirl, how did you get on this line?” he demanded.
“You are not the only one with technical savvy, Batman,” she teased, “I am pretty resourceful when I need to be.”
“Yes, well, what do you want?”
“Trust me, this is not social, Batman. It has been several weeks since we worked together and I think we should hook up again for the welfare of Gotham City.” She knew that was corny but he could not refuse cliché lines.
“I have been quite busy on the Catwoman’s tail but you are probably right. Let’s meet tonight at midnight at the Gotham Piers and I will fill you in.”

They both pulled up to the pier exactly at midnight although from different directions. They dismounted and climbed out of their respective vehicles and stood between the facing headlights.
“Batman.”
“Batgirl.”
A pause.
“Good to see you.”
“And you.”
Before it fell deeper into useless pleasantries, Batgirl decided to move the discussion to business. “You said you had some information about Catwoman, what can you tell me?”
Batman laid out all his research and where it had led him. He described how he had been tracking her pattern and how he was poised to apprehend her. Batgirl tried to make a humorous remark about their previous encounter but he neither responded nor acknowledged it. He concluded his review by stating that he expected to know the location of her hideout by the following day. He then asked her for a review of her activities.
Batgirl obliged. He offered praise for the work she had done which mildly surprised her. She then decided to leverage the compliments and asked to join him the following evening on the stakeout of the Catwoman. Further to her amazement he agreed.
“Then it is set. Tomorrow evening we shall meet again.” Although their conversation was stilted he tried to sound supportive. “However, there is one problem, Batgirl. You seem to have figured out a way to get in touch with me but how am I supposed to contact you? Do you have a number I can call?”
“Nice try Batman. Here,” as she retrieved a small device from her Batbelt. This is a wide range communications device that you can reach me on. It utilizes a frequency reserved but not used by the FCC, so it is fairly secure.”
“Impressive and probably illegal but alright if you insist. By the way, you haven’t implanted some sort of tracking device in this that I have to worry about, did you?”
“No Batman, that is your game, not mine. This is strictly to give us equal access to contacting each other.”
“If you say so, Batgirl. I’m off.” Then he added dismissively, “Try not to get into trouble tonight and ruin your arch villain debut.” He jumped into the Batmobile and sped off.
“Just when I thought he might be turning the corner he rears his ugly prick side.” As she straddled her bike an alarm went off. It was the detection device she had installed on her bike to alert her to Batman’s tricks. She reached around and felt a transmitter clinging to her cape. Batman had bugged her again. She pulled it off, threw it on the ground, and ran over it as she raced away.

Batman kept his word. In the late afternoon a small object that anyone else would consider a beeper vibrated in her pocket. She excused herself from the meeting with her broker and spoke into the walkie-talkie. Batman’s message was terse but detailed. He named the site (an old broadcast studio, not the usual cat related theme) and exactly where and when to meet. He was also very precise with his final instruction:
“Under no circumstances are you to enter her hideout without me.” Barbara felt that was a bit heavy handed but she assured him she would not.

Batgirl arrived a bit earlier than the prescribed time. The butterflies were all ablaze like her first night and she could not wait for the action begin. She checked her watch and made a mental note that Batman should arrive momentarily. She thought about the past several weeks and how rocky her and Batman’s relationship was. It made her question why he chose to include her in tonight’s roundup. Was this her final test? Would tonight determine whether he would finally and completely accept her? He was so difficult to figure out.
By her watch, he was now officially late. She looked around and saw no sign of him. Batgirl decided to have a peek and see what was going on inside. To her horror she saw a young girl tied to a chair and stripped down to her underwear. She was crying and Catwoman and her henchman were standing around ominously. “This is not good,” she thought, “and it looks like it is about to get much worse for that poor little girl.” She looked around again but still no Batman. She remembered her transmitter and reached for it. In her haste, it slipped out of her hand as she pulled it from its pocket. She watched it fall helplessly one floor down to the lower roof.
Even though it was a small device, the noise was not lost on the nefarious crowd inside. Without looking up, Catwoman said, “It sounds like our guest has arrived, children. Kitty, you did an excellent job as a helpless damsel. Everybody, prepare for your places on my signal.” Catwoman circled the girl in the chair again and innocuously pressed a button on a key chain. The floor and window that Batgirl had been perched in immediately gave way and she came tumbling down. The fall was choreographed so that she hit some crates and props on the way down but it was still dramatic enough to knock the wind out of her an leave her momentarily groggy.
Two henchmen immediately ran two her and picked her up holding an arm each. Other henchmen, six by Batgirl’s dazed count, surrounded her as well. As she struggled to regain her focus she saw Catwoman standing 15 feet directly in front of her. Her vision cleared and she saw first hand the magnificent sight that Catwoman made. She was clad in shiny black leather, head to boot, but Batgirl had never seen leather that clung so favorably to anyone. It was a second skin that made her dark complexion radiant. Her body seemed impossibly perfect. Rippled abs, sinewy arms but unmistakable femininity. The mask added a mystery to facial features that screamed of unrivaled beauty. The whole package was intimidating to her both as a foe and a woman.
“So, Batman decided to send his little Girl Scout to spy on us,” Catwoman began as she prowled closer. Each step was placed directly in front of the other and her hips followed flowingly. “Doesn’t he respect me enough to show up personally? Or has he given up on me since I got the best of him?”
“Batman is on to you, Catwoman and his way. In fact, he’s probably in here already. You better give up while you still can.” Somehow Batgirl’s authoritative tone seemed less effective on Catwoman.
“My God, is there a Bat school that teaches you two to say those ridiculous things? I’ve been expecting Batman. I know he is not here yet. You have a cute figure and I adore this is lovely red hair,” and she ran her hand through Caped Crusader’s wigged tresses. Batgirl only used real hair in her wigs so they always had an authentic look and feel. “I once considered dying my hair but I decided a black cat creates more havoc.”
“Listen you sick woman, let me go or else,” Batgirl tried to be demanding.
“Oh Batgirl, you are beginning to bore me with your babble. I need some excitement. Let’s do something fun and find out who you are.” Catwoman reached for the top of her cowl.
Batgirl counted the numbers. She had never fought this many at one time before, even in training. “I can’t let her beat me and reveal my identity,” she thought, “where is Batman, why was he late?” Catwoman began to pull up on her dark purple hood. Batgirl’s last panicked thought was “One at a time.”
Using the two men holding her arms for support, Batgirl lifted her legs and planted her feet squarely into Catwoman’s chest. Catwoman let go and was sent flying backwards. When her feet hit the ground she delivered two kicks with each leg to send her apprehenders reeling back. She then looked for her next victim and quickly took him out with a clean shot to the jaw. The rest moved in to engulf her and she switched to pure instinct honed with the finest training to send each of the henchmen to the ground and writhing in pain. A few got up to attack again only to be greeted by more punishment. Finally, Batgirl looked around and all the men were on the ground. She had won or so she thought. Still standing and removed from the fray was Catwoman
Despite losing her numerical advantage and seeing the capabilities of the Caped Crusader, Catwoman looked calm, if not a bit bored. In fact she was casually putting on a new set of gloves. “Bravo, Batbabe, you did quite a job. I’m impressed. One woman against what--eight, nine worthless men. However, you made a terrible mistake by not finishing me off first. And I deserved it for being caught off guard like that. Oh well. You now have given me something to be excited about. You will definitely make one tasty treat when this is over.”
“The only think you’ll be licking is your wounds, Catwoman.” Now with confidence Batgirl struck her pose.
“Again with those corny crime fighting lines. Please. Batgirl, like I said, you impressed me with those men but you are out of your league. I’ll give you one chance to turn away and leave. Otherwise, well…”
“I like my chances as they are now, Catwoman. Maybe it is I who should offer you one last chance to give up without getting hurt.” Batgirl began to have visions of headlines proclaiming her victory of Catwoman.
“Dream on, Bat-thing, as if.” The feline moved into position. “Okay, but I warned you.” Suddenly, with lightning quickness Catwoman sprang upon Batgirl and with two motions that looked like she crossed her arms and brought them back to shoulder width she struck. Batgirl could not even register to jump back until the move was completed. What caught her attention at the completion of Catwoman’s move was the set of claws retracting back into the Cat’s gloves.
“What the…” Batgirl stammered and she looked down at her costume. Crossing her chest just above her bosoms were two surgical incisions that shred the kevlar material like cray paper. Even more amazing was the fact that Catwoman controlled the moves to slice the material without cutting into her skin. This woman was lethal. Alarmed at the danger, Batgirl became the aggressor and unleashed a series of strikes and moves that Catwoman blocked at every point of attack. After the flurry, Catwoman struck again horizontally at her collarbones connecting the incisions in the material and causing a triangle shaped cut out of the costume to fall to the floor.
“I always was a sucker for cleavage,” Catwoman laughed. Batgirl looked down again and saw her ample chest pushing out.
“Damn,” Batgirl considered, “Catwoman is quick. She reacts as if she is anticipating each move. Can’t give in…” Again, Batgirl attacked and again Catwoman defended herself magnificently. Not only did she defend but she countered expertly. When Batgirl stepped back she saw that her costume was further shredded and now her right breast was completely exposed. She was embarrassed but chose not to cover herself for fear of appearing intimidated.
“Nice tit, Batgirl,” Catwoman purred, “I cannot wait to see the other.”
“Enjoy the show why you can because it will be your last one.” Batgirl was exhausted. The fight with the henchmen and her furious but fruitless offensive at Catwoman had taken its toll. “She’s too quick,” she strategized to herself, “I’m going to have to overtake her with might.” She then unleashed a windmill like kick to move Catwoman back and then charged directly at her. With her hands she grabbed Catwoman’s forearms to keep the claws away from her. Using the strength of her legs and buttocks she drove the feline back hoping to pin her against the wall. Catwoman only put up a token resistance and allowed herself to be forced to the partition. Batgirl’s body pressed against hers.
Holding Catwoman’s arms in a crucifix position, Batgirl felt she had Catwoman securely. Catwoman demurred, “Oh Batgirl, you are so mighty.” She then slid slowly down against the wall so that her arms were held up in the air by Batgirl. She went down just enough so that her face was level with Batgirl’s chest. “Oh Batgirl, what am I to do?” she offered coyly and innocently. She then moved her mouth to Batgirl’s nipple and began gently licking the pink flesh surrounding it. “I guess I will have to be a slave to your every whim.” She then began to softly suck on Batgirl’s nipple that continued to harden with the delicate tongue caress.
Batgirl couldn’t believe what she was feeling. A minute ago she was fighting for her life with this woman, now she was being turned on like never before. What was she allowing to happen? “Wait…wait Catwoman, you can’t do that,” she was failing at sounding convincing.
Still sucking the firm petrusion Catwoman responded, “No? Can’t I?” And, in a flash, she spun out of Batgirl’s hold and now held the crime fighter from behind with Batgirl’s arm twisted behind her back.
“Catwoman, you fiend.”
“Don’t worry, Batgirl, I am not as terrible as you think. As a matter of fact I intend to relieve you of your repressed passion before disposing of you.” She pushed Batgirl’s arm up higher and Batgirl grunted in the pain. Catwoman than turned her around and directed her over to a table. Just at that time some of Catwoman’s goons were beginning to stumble out of their battle beaten stupor.
“I need four of you to hold my friend down on the table,” Catwoman demanded. Several immediately responded to the order. They grabbed Batgirl by the arms and legs and lifted her onto the table. They held her down on her back. Batgirl struggled in their grasp but with all of them, it was no use. “Stand back boys, momma has some surgery to perform,” and in a flash the torso of Batgirl’s costume was cut away revealing both breasts in entirety, and naked midriff, and a brief pair of thong panties.
“Aren’t these cute?” Catwoman asked to no one in particular as she held the thin waistband of the panties. “Not!” and with claws from each hand she severed the waistband. She then grabbed the panties by the front and pulled them up ensuring the material would pass through the slit of Batgirl’s vagina. Batgirl felt the sensation both abrupt and pleasurable.
“Well, well, well what in heavens do we have we here?” Catwoman asked as she looked down at Batgirl’s crotch and then her hair, “I’d call this a mismatch. What do you think boys?”
“I think we should fuck her.”
“Let me ram my cock down her throat, Catwoman.”
Catwoman’s face showed utter disgust and contempt for them. “Is that the best response any of you could muster? I keep forgetting I did not hire any of you for your brains. What about you, Batgirl?” as she took off one glove and ran her finger through the soft curls surrounding her vulva, “What explanation would you like to offer for this pubic inconsistency?”
Batgirl was flabbergasted. She continued to struggle but with four men restraining her it was no use. In her wildest dreams she never considered this type of humiliation before she donned the costume. As she looked down she could see the tattered front of her costume with her breasts heaving out and exposed. Between the two she could just make out the dark patch of her dark brown mons pubis and beyond that Catwoman peering into her gaping vagina. She did not know what to say.
“What’s the matter, Batgirl? Cat got your tongue? Ha, ha, ha, ha. You know, before I just wanted to know who you were. But now, after seeing you in action and discovering your ‘dark’ secret it makes me want to enjoy getting a taste of Batgirl before I spoil your party.
“But first, I am going to do you a favor and give you advice, woman to woman. Anytime you change your hair color you have to be thorough. This half way job is too cheap for a woman of your caliber, Batgirl. Either dye everything or remove the evidence. Since I do not have any red hair color at my disposal, I shall do you this one last favor and help you with the latter.”
Batgirl was confused and not sure what Catwoman was planning. She did not like her prospects. She tried to keep her view on Catwoman knowing she was the most dangerous adversary in the room. To her horror, she saw a claw on Catwoman’s gloved index finger pop out. The feline moved closer and leaned over Batgirl’s prostrate body. As she traced the razor sharp blade around the borders of her nipple she said,
“Now I don’t think I have to tell you how brilliantly sharp my claws are. If you continue to struggle I cannot be accountable for the damage these could do to your precious little body. I want you to lie still. Understand?”
Batgirl nodded weakly. Catwoman then moved down her body to her crotch and ran her ungloved hand through Batgirl’s pubic hair again. With the exposed claw she began to shave the brown locks from Batgirl’s pubis. Amazingly, it did not hurt as the laser-honed edges effortlessly sheared the hair from the area. Catwoman gave the effort her unwavering intensity as she started from the top and worked her way in from the sides. When the trim resulted in a thin line in the center, Catwoman moved to Batgirl’s lower vagina. She delicately took hold of each lip and carefully removed all trace of hair. The touch to Batgirl’s already sensitive area made her moisten with excitement. Spontaneously, she let out a slight moan.
“Don’t worry, Batgirl.” Catwoman purred, “I’ll take care of that problem for you also.” Moving up the labia toward the clitoris, Catwoman placed her middle finger on it as she expertly shaved around it. Soon Batgirl was left with a thin strip of hair leading from her lower abdomen to her vagina. Catwoman moved her claw into position to remove the final hair ribbon but as she moved the razor down, she stopped just above the clitoris.
“I’ll leave the last little bit for you, Bat-honey. It will give you something to do when your crime fighting days are over.”
“Please, Catwoman, what do you want?” Batgirl pleaded.
“Well darrrling, first I want to give you what you have been wanting for some time now.” Catwoman then removed her other glove and pulled Batgirl’s by the legs until her buttocks were at the edge of the table. Batgirl watched as she saw Catwoman lower herself and disappear. She then began to feel the warmth of being kissed elegantly between her thighs and the sensation moving up to her vagina. At her labia she could feel Catwoman switching to her tongue and licking from the outer to inner part of her womanhood. The now bare area was alive with sensitivity. It tingled as Catwoman’s tongue adroitly explored and probed her inner vagina in and around, in and around. As the sensation built she couldn’t help but close her eyes and become lost in the ecstasy that Catwoman was delivering. Occasionally, Batgirl would see Catwoman’s eyes peep up and admire her bared body. She knew that when Catwoman looked into her eyes she did not see the look of a foe but the longing for the passion being received. She had only had two men ever go down on her and now, she realized, they were not very good. Batgirl began to lose her sense of time and surroundings when Catwoman’s mouth made it to her clitoris and gave it a vigorous lashing. She alternated between licking and sucking it with each way offering unmatched pleasure. Batgirl felt herself losing control of her body and the men could hardly hold her down as her pelvis thrashed in excitement as her orgasms gushed one after the other. Batgirl shuddered when Catwoman touched her breast to hold her down. She could take no more. She heard Catwoman say something but she was lost in oblivion and did not make out the words. She felt herself falling into an uncontrollable sleep.
“Gentlemen, I’d say you can loosen your grip. This is one Bat that isn’t going anywhere for awhile. No, strap her down all the same, for good measure. Go get the video equipment return here in 45 minutes, no sooner. I will fetch my favorite toy and give her a fuck neither of us will ever forget. Then we shall film her unmasking for all of Gotham to see on the six o’clock news. Remember, mouses, the best way to enjoy the news is to make it. Ha,ha,ha,ha.”

In seconds they were all gone leaving an exposed Batgirl hanging off the table. It was one of the first things Batman noticed as he swooped down to the scene. Before approaching her he surveyed the room to see if any lookouts were around. Confident that they were alone he rushed to the table. He immediately began to undo one of the clasps on her wrist and thought to rouse her. However, as he stood there he had to stop and delight in the view of seeing Batgirl’s athletically hardened but limp body. “Why didn’t she wait for me like I told her?” he thought. “This is one lesson that will cost her.” He then rationalized that if he could not outsmart her, her foolishness gave him the right to look under her mask and see who she was. Just as he lifted her head and touched the mask of her cowl he saw a flash of bright light and began to collapse to the floor. He didn’t even begin to feel the pain in the back of his neck until he trickled out of consciousness.
The crack of the chair against Batman’s back was loud enough to wake Batgirl. She chose to remain motionless and pretend she was still sleeping until she could figure out what to do. She had been defeated in battle and in bed already. She was secured to the table and the exhaustion rang throughout her every pore left no energy to break away. Think, Barbara, think.
Catwoman called for one of her henchmen. “Look here, Cubby, it will be a Bat-party after all. Help me lay him on this other table and tie him up.” They then proceeded to bind Batman at the ankles, knees, and wrists using leather straps attached to some rope. Batgirl looked one with her eyes half open as Catwoman hit a switch and the ropes pulled down leaving Batman on his back in a spread eagle position.
“Cubby, has Batman ever done you wrong?”
“I’ll say, Catwoman, he’s the one who sent me up the river for that last stretch.”
“How would you like to make it up to him?”
“Would I? Where can I begin?”
“How about a nice punch right in the balls. I’d say you have a pretty good shot.”
It was too tempting. Batman’s spread stance left him wide open. Cubby wound up.
“Wait, Cubby! Wouldn’t it be better if Batman was awake for this painful reintroduction?”
“Yeah, I want to see his eyes glaze over in pain.”
“Okay, let’s see what we have here.” Catwoman then undid the buckle of the Batbelt and started searching the compartments one by one. “This Boy Scout thinks of everything. Ah, here we go, smelling salts.” She dropped the belt casually on the floor. She broke the salts and waved them under Batman’s nose. Here shook his head and immediately pulled against the bonds in an effort to break free.
“Hello, Batman, so glad you could drop by. I’d like to reacquaint you with an old adversary. Batman, Cubby. Cubby, nail Batman.”
Without waiting Cubby let go with a direct hit to Batman’s crotch. However, the person cringing in pain was not the Caped Crusader, but Cubby. He held his mangled hand by the wrist and screamed with agony.
“I’m sorry, Cubby, but I needed you to prove a theory I was working on about why I couldn’t feel Batman when he was pressed against me. He was hiding his feelings, how sweet.
“You better have the guys ice that down. You can’t punch bulletproof material and not expect to break your hand.
“I don’t want to be disturbed for an hour now. Let the boys know.”
Cubby didn’t respond but left gasping for words through the pain. “Poor boy, he should know you better than that, Batman.”
“Catwoman, you are evil. When I get out of this I am going to make your life a living hell.” Batman was mad. He hated being controlled and he was even madder at himself for losing his concentration when he saw Batgirl helpless on the table. “What is it, Catwoman? What do you want?”
“Oh, I want a lot of things Batman but now, what I want, is you.” Finishing her sentence she grabbed his outer briefs with both hands and pulled them down to his knees. Batman could not believe this was happening. Batgirl, looking on from the side, was in shock and awe. His penis lay just to the right but through the lycra material she could she the complete outline of its nine inches. It even looked better than when she accidentally felt it at the luncheon.
Catwoman was enticed as well and her fascination caused her to ignore Batgirl on the table even though she had stopped pretending to be asleep. “Batman, I have to say I am impressed. I had heard it was worthwhile but seeing is believing.”
Batman felt stupid. Although the bonds did not appear secure his arms where not in a position to work with any leverage. He felt vulnerable like never before.
“Don’t be alarmed, Batman. I won’t hurt you. I’m here to make you feel good.” Catwoman walked up to the table where his head rest and started licking him, beginning at the chin, and to his cheeks, and his eyes through the holes of his mask. It felt intoxicating. This was a woman who understood how to please a man in but a few brief moments. She then kissed him on the mouth and asked, “Do you like the taste of Batgirl? Would you prefer the taste of me instead?”
Before he could control his thoughts Batman heard himself whisper, “yes.”
Catwoman licked his face some more and this time worked her tongue under his mask to lick his cheeks and nearly the bridge of his nose. She withdrew her tongue and licked his closed eyes again but this time probing his eyebrows as well. Batman was aware how dangerously close he was to being revealed but he did not care. The desire burning in him was too strong. He was forsaking control.
The seduction continued as Catwoman slithered down his body and stopped when her head reached his crotch. She playfully mouthed his penis that was stiffening under the lycra, as it slowly moved counter clockwise toward twelve.
“Catwoman, take me in your mouth.”
“What’s that, Batman?”
“Catwoman, please take me in your mouth and suck me dry.”
“You bad boy, Batman. Is that what you want? You want me to blow you?” Catwoman then grabbed the lycra material and, pulling with her bare hands, tore it apart revealing his throbbing member. It had already grown to almost eleven inches. “Mmm. Yummy.” Catwoman took hold of his cock with one hand and put her mouth briefly on the tip in a quick open-mouthed kiss. She then went to the bottom of his shaft and licked all the way up. The rush was incredible. She continued this exercise working around the circumference. After it was good and wet she stroked it a few times then placed it in her mouth and positioned herself to take the whole thing in. Batman was ecstatic. Many women had had trouble taking him deep but she did it with ease and skill avoiding any contact with her teeth. She plunged down all the way to the base and tickled his balls with her fingers. In all his many sexual encounters he had never experienced any sensation like her. He wanted to come but almost on cue she moved up his shaft to the tip again. “Not yet, Batman, we have a lot more to do.”
Catwoman eased down to his balls and alternated putting each in her mouth, lightly sucking each one. It was a stimulation that almost made him howl. It was a pleasure heightened by the threat of unspeakable pain. It immediately curbed his urge to come without sacrificing his erection. Having him in her mouth spoke to Batman: this woman knows what she is doing. This woman is in control.

Batgirl lay on the table watching with fascination and lust. Even though she had only recently been satisfied herself, the sight of Catwoman controlling her idol and nemesis so completely turned her on at a level she never knew existed. The restraints only made it more exciting.

Catwoman was holding Batman’s rock hard cock straight up. “Now it’s my turn for some fun.” She stepped away and unzipped her costume. Its unique design had a hidden zipper that started at her neck and plunged down somewhere below her vagina. As she unzipped her costume her breasts immediately pushed the opening further. She pulled the zipper all the way down to her crotch so that her thick, black hairs of her love triangle poked out. This woman continued to amaze Batman. Just when he thought he was turned on as much as was possible, she raised the bar. Her body was flawless. He watched her walk to the head of the table and lost sight as she went behind him. It was only momentary as she came into his vision again upside down with her breast completely out of the costume. She had each of the bosoms by the underside in each hand as she leaned over and offered then to Batman to suck. He wasted no time in raising his head off the table and reaching for the dark and luscious nipples. He moved back and forth from one to the other trying to match the pleasure he felt with her touch. She just purred softly.
After a few minutes of Batman’s lip coddling her breasts, she came around and climbed up on the table barely straddling his upper chest while on her knees. Her vagina was completely exposed to him. He liked her full and bushy cunt. It was a change from all the models he dated and their narrow fashion trims. This was the pubic growth of a woman. Laying there, with her vagina just out of reach, he strived for whiffs of her mustiness. The odor was magical. “Well, Batman, are you ready to satisfy me?”
“Yes, Catwoman, whatever you want.” He hated the way his voice sounded but her sexuality drove him to say things, beg for things, even if it was shameful.
“Lick my pussy, Caped Crusader. Let’s see what type of lover you really are.” She pulled his head up to her as she slid up closer to his mouth. Batman started slowly, but confidently, kissing her thighs and labia before probing with his tongue. Catwoman leaned back and moaned. It was the first sign that she was beginning to receive pleasure she had been infecting everyone with. “Oh Batman, you do know what to do. Rrrrrrrrrrrrowl.” Batman continued to work his tongue all over her vagina before homing in on her clitoris which was the largest Batman ever saw. As he licked it and bit it softly it became harder and petruded out, almost like an erection. Her pleasure kept him stiff.
After several minutes Catwoman became ferociously aroused and began gyrating her hips to Batman’s licking. As he persisted she leaned forward again and grabbed the back of his head. She furiously drove her pussy into his face as if fucking it as she moaned intensely. Batman kept at it thinking her orgasm would calm her but the violence of her pelvis in his face was making him groggy. He thought he may pass out. Finally, and without warning, she dropped his head stood up and walked backwards on the table until she was at his waist. She slowly lowered herself on top of him and Batman’s erection disappeared into her love box. She started rocking wildly again on top of him.
Batman felt as if Catwoman had enveloped him completely. Her thrashing thrilled him and boosted his ego that he could satisfy her so. Each time she moved he tried to drive himself deeper into her. The unusual restraints gave him the freedom to move his body sexually without the freedom to get up and leave. “I got to hand it to Catwoman,” he thought.
Her movements and screams complimented with his response and grunts drove each of them to their sexual climax. His cock burst spraying semen deep in her as she continued to flail. He wanted to remain hard and continue pumping but she had fucked him so completely his dick quickly succumbed to post coital retreat. They both gasped for oxygen.

The sight of the two foes loving each other so hard made Batgirl tingle. She knew her pussy was gaping with excitement. If they would not include her in their romp then she wanted to be able to masturbate to the scene. As she fretted at her luck for being tied up she noticed that the restraint that Batman had loosened gave her enough movement to wiggle her hand free. Once liberated she considered touching herself but ultimately rationalized she had to stop this or join in.

“Catwoman, I don’t know what to say,” Batman panted, “that was the most incredible orgasm I have ever achieved.”
“You were not too bad yourself, Bat-stud. For someone so priggish you have a wild side.”
“I guess we both learned something about each other tonight, Cat. Now let me go and we will meet up another day.”
“Oh Batman.” Catwoman began, “this is only the first course. We have many more episodes to experience tonight. Why, when I first left the other Bat-person there I was on my way to play with my toy. I was going to inaugurate it on her but you will be much more interesting.”
“What are you talking about, Catwoman. Let me go.”
“I’m afraid that will not be possible just yet, darrrling.” Catwoman strapped a belt that was attached to the table around Batman’s waist. She followed that by pressing a few buttons on the control and the ropes holding down Batman’s legs moved. To his stupefaction he found himself still on his back but with his legs lifted and curled toward his chest. His ass hung in the air.
“Catwoman what is the meaning of this?” he demanded and as he looked around his legs the horror became apparent. Catwoman was strapping on a large golden dildo. “Catwoman!” he exclaimed, you cannot do this.”
“You men are all alike. Yes even you, Batman. You think that because you have cocks they afford you some kind of special orgasm. Who knows? Maybe you are right. Tonight, I will answer that question for myself. Do you see what I am wearing, Batman? It is a virtual reality dildo. With it I will be able to simulate a man’s orgasm in a sexual act. Isn’t this exciting? You’ll be part of history.”
“Catwoman, you have taken this charade far enough. Let me go now and I will let you leave Gotham City without chase.” He was struggling for something to offer her. She looked intent and he was terrified of being entered anally, even if it was a woman. “Catwoman. Catwoman! What do you want? I’ll give it to you.” He was desperate.
“What can you give me that I can’t already get myself. Tonight I will lay claim to taking the cherry you probably never thought would pop. I think it sound like a grand evening. Don’t you?” Catwoman laughed. What was an expression of pleasure before was evil now.
“No, Catwoman, no!” but it was too late. Catwoman plunged her dildo into Batman’s rectum forcing him to jolt with the incomprehensible intrusion. Catwoman resumed her laughter as she pumped away.
“Batman, this feels gooooood. You are soooo tight.”
He couldn’t believe he was hearing the words he had whispered into starlets’ ears hundreds of times. After a few minutes the shock of the sensation was began to wear. He realized that of he moved with her the experience was better, not gratifying, but tolerable. He looked into Catwoman’s face and wondered who she could be. What type of woman was capable of such treachery? He decided that this was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. Being unmasked would actually be better.
Almost reading his mind Catwoman began to speak as she thrust back and forth. “You know what would really make this enjoyable for you, Batman? To just totally let go.” She was breathing harder. “You know release all your anxiety and secrets.” The pace increased. “Just accept your fate and reveal your deepest secret.” She was now thrashing. “Let the world see who you really are.” As she finished the sentence she reached for the top of Batman’s cowl.

Batgirl had been working furtively but successfully in freeing herself since she saw Catwoman arm herself with the dildo. She worked on her bonds as she kept looking back to the perverse scene unfolding next to her. This was beyond anything she could ever imagine. She recognized the quickening pace as Catwoman approached her virtual orgasm. She had to move fast to save Batman from further humiliation. At last she rid herself of the restraints and saw Catwoman reach for Batman’s mask. He was helpless to stop the criminal. She ran across and delivered a clench-fisted chop to the back of Catwoman’s neck. The surprise stimulus sent a shock to her senses that were already heightened by the apparatus. The resulting surge sent an electrical current that shocked both her and connected paramour, Batman. It immediately knocked him out. Catwoman fell back, unconscious as well, clutching the mask that had hidden Batman’s identity.
It took a minute for the reality of the situation to be absorbed in Batgirl’s mind. There she stood, naked for all intents and purposes, in an old broadcast studio with both Catwoman and Batman lying unconscious on either side of her. Looking at Catwoman (and with the memory of the rapture fresh in her mind) she was not sure whether to send her to prison or make her a prisoner of her own bedroom. Then even more mind blowing was the man laying unconscious on her left. Bruce Wayne is Batman! “My God, all these years my two fantasy men have been the same person. At least that explains Bruce’s sudden interest in me. He wanted to see more of what he saw as Batman.” Looking at him lying there, asleep and vulnerable, he still had a larger than life aura to her. She reached over and released him from his bonds. With maternal affection she then pulled his briefs up to his waist. She then went over to Catwoman and retrieved Batman’s cowl. “What am I going to do now?” she pondered.

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

Batman opened his eyes. Quick where am I. What do I last remember? He remembered his encounter with Catwoman. With post-coital hindsight he regretted his actions and the awkward position it left him in. What happened? My God, Catwoman was ramming me with a dildo. How did it end? Where is she? He raised his head to assess his situation. He was no longer bound. His briefs were up at his waist and his Batbelt lay across his stomach, folded over. This is so odd. He began to prop himself up to see around him better when he noticed Batgirl, sitting on a table across from him and just staring at him.
“Hello, Batman,” she greeted in a real casual and neighborly tone. She had removed her cape and had it tied across her torso. It reminded him of how women wrap a robe around themselves coming out of a shower. It covers just enough to protect their modesty. Oh yeah, when I arrived her costume was in tatters. How did she get loose? I don’t remember freeing her. Why does she have that quirky expression on her face?
“Batgirl, give me an assessment of our situation,” he commanded.
“Well, the police just left about ten minutes ago with Catwoman and her henchman in tow.”
“The police, they were in here?” Did they see me unconscious and exposed?
“No, after I knocked Catwoman out. I tied her up and worked on disabling her henchmen. Given your situation and the size of the gang I thought it best to leave them outside for the police rather than have them poke around here and seeing you-like that.” There it was that stupid smirk again.
“How many were there?” he continued.
“Nine, plus Catwoman.”
“You took on nine, by yourself?” He did not want to sound disbelieving but it was an ambitious number to take on-in any situation.
“I think my attire served as a helpful distraction, not too unlike yours.” Now she was outright smiling almost laughing at him.
“Batgirl, what is it? What is so amusing?”
“You tell me, Bat (cough).” Did she say BatWayne? No, I’m still groggy. Okay sit up. Go over all the details from the beginning. Have her in fill in where there are gaps. Hey, what’s that in her hand? Batman’s reality broadsided him abruptly. My cowl, she has my cowl!
“Is this yours, Bruce?” She held up his greatest secret in her hand. He jumped off the table and snatched it from her gloved hand. He pulled it over his face and secured it into place.
“So, is this the deal? You don’t want me taking off your mask but the first opportunity you have you go right for it.” He was fuming.
“I’m afraid not, Bru-Batman. Catwoman helped herself to the honor.”
“Catwoman?” He was alarmed. “So, she knows, too?”
“No, I was able to knock her out before she saw you.” Batgirl then gave him a detailed chronological account of the events and her actions. “My interests were in protecting you. I did not put your mask on because I did not want to deceive you by pretending not to know what I do.”
“Now that you know my secret identity will you share yours with me?”
“I don’t think so. If you can figure it out, God bless you. But I am not going to give up mine just because your dick got the best of you.”
“How can I be sure that I can trust you?”
“Batman, if I wanted, I could have marched half of a precinct through here while you were unconscious. Instead I distracted the location of the capture to keep people away. I don’t care whether you trust me or not, but I will not reveal what I know to anyone.” They talked for a bit longer then awkwardly decided to call it a night. Before parting, Batgirl asked, “when shall we meet up again?”

The next morning Batman summoned her in her apartment on her spare radio. He asked that she meet him at the Commissioner’s office immediately. On her bike she mused that they probably wanted to give her a citation for reeling in the infamous Catwoman. She was excited but cautioned herself not to appear too proud. Upon arriving she found the atmosphere in the office somber.
“Batgirl,” the Commissioner called out. The pleasantries were omitted. “When you apprehended Catwoman last night, did you read her her rights?”
“I’m not sure,” she said as racked her memory, “didn’t one of the arresting officers do it?”
“It doesn’t matter if the arresting officer did it,” O’Hara answered, “since you are now deputized agent of the Gotham City police you, as the apprehending officer, were required to Mirandize her as soon as you started cuffing her. Since you didn’t, you blew the bust.”
“I don’t understand Chief. You mean she free?”
“And laughing at us I suppose. Consequently, we had to drop all existing charges we had outstanding against her. She got a free pass.”
Batgirl felt her stomach turn with sickness. “I had no idea. I thought the Gotham criminal code allowed for any officer to read her rights to her.”
“Well, you were wrong.” O’Hara sounded almost glad that she messed up preferring her blunder to a free Catwoman.
“We were caught off guard as well, Batgirl,” the Commissioner piped in. “It appears there is a state law that supercedes the City ordinance in very specific circumstances, with your situation being one of them. Her high priced lawyer spent the night giving the Chief and the DA a lesson in the law.”
“At least we know who she is now. I can tail her. When she commits another crime and I’m sure she will, we can swoop down and arrest her properly.” Batgirl desperately wanted to salvage this.
“I’m afraid you are wrong on that count, too,” O’Hara added, “the first thing her attorney did was obtain a restraining order forbidding us to unmask her until he proved his case. So, when he did, she left here laughing and still anyone’s guess as to who she is.”
Batgirl felt dejected. Her first big nab was worthless and oh, what she and Batman had to go through to get to that point. Batman. Where was he? “Excuse me, gentlemen. Where is Batman?”
“Oh he had to cancel at the last minute, why?” the Commissioner answered and asked.
“No reason.” Batgirl was momentarily distracted. “Chief, would you excuse the Commissioner and I for a moment?” O’Hara began to say no but the Commissioner signaled him away.
“Commissioner,” Batgirl began, “my omission was inexcusable and I would like to offer you my resignation. I will stop my activity immediately.”
“Nonsense, Batgirl, I do not accept it.” He came around from his desk and leaned back against the front of it. “Do you know how many times Batman screwed up in the beginning. I think we lost two for every one he brought in. His rough antics still causes the DA sleepless nights. Nevertheless, I want him around because he has drive and commitment. And I sense you do as well. Losing you would be too great of a hole for my department to fill.”
“Thank you, Commissioner.” She almost said ‘Daddy’. It will be my honor to continue to working under you for Gotham City.” The conversation paused.
“Batgirl,” all of the sudden Gordon’s demeanor became uncomfortable and unsure, “would care to have a cup of coffee with me sometime?”
“Coffee?” Where was this going thought Batgirl.
“Yes, you know you and I could sit back and get to know each other a little better and enjoy each other’s company.” He looked sincerely into her eyes. She had no idea how to react. Another consequence she had never planned on when donning the costume.
“Er, Commissioner, I’m not sure that would be such a good idea, since I do report to you and, well, I have a few reservations about working relationships, and…”
“That’s okay, Batgirl. I understand. I’m probably twice your age and you probably favor someone more dashing, like Batman.” His expression looked crushed. She hated to see her father in pain.
“The thing is, Da-aaa-excuse me-that I, you see, Commissioner, I have another life. And in that life I have someone special in it. It wouldn’t be fair to see someone on the side in my alter ego.” She was lying but it was the only way she knew how to get out of this.
“Of course, I understand. Forget I ever brought it up.”
Batgirl turned to leave and turned around again to face him. “Commissioner, I can tell you, in all honesty and in my deepest heart, if the circumstances in our lives were different I would consider myself the luckiest girl to go out with you.” He smiled and she could tell his spirits were lifted.

Barbara sat in her apartment and tried to rework her agenda for the day after the morning’s meeting at police headquarters altered it. It gave her a reason to cancel some of the things she did not want to do anyway and other things she could rearrange. One was her appointment to work out with Selina again. She gave her a call but she was in a meeting. Barbara was worried about Bruce/Batman. She knew he had issues to start with but after last night she was not sure how he would react. She was not sure how to approach him. As Batgirl, he would resent her help. As Barbara, she had limited opportunities to run into him. She would come up with something.

In her office, Selina was talking to Ramon, her personal cameraman. “We have to step it up. The crimes we have been committing are low rent. If I am to control this City I need network exposure. To get that exposure I need to own it. I need more capital. Millions more. The syndicate we have now will get us there too slowly and what I can influence right now is limited to one story at a time.”
“How do you recommend doing it?” Ramon inquired. “Cat-baby, we have a good thing here. With you informing the people of Catwoman’s mastery over the police and the Bat’s, they don’t trust any authorities. Just wait. Soon they will break and look for you as their leader.”
“Ramon, this is America. Revolutions are not won by bloodshed here. They are won in the media. How do you think we Latino’s are kept down so effectively. Are we not as intelligent? Can we not rule as effectively?”
“Sure, we’re the best. Be patient, it will come.”
“I am not where I am today because I am patient, Ramon. No, we need capital and I know how we will get it. What causes companies to be worth billions? Their knowledge, their potential. What if we were to acquire the secrets of one of the most promising companies in the market? What if we had the secrets of WayneTech?”
“What would we do with computer secrets? We do not know how to run computers.” Ramon did not understand where his leader was taking them.
“We don’t want them for ourselves, although it may help our operations. No, it gives us options. What would other companies pay to have WayneTech secrets? What do you think a billionaire like Bruce Wayne would pay to get his software back? Everything. Without that computer knowledge he’s got nothing. He’d liquidate his fortune just so he could hope to build it back.”
“Yeah, but Selina, how are we going to do it? I can’t figure out a way to take something if I don’t know what it is I’m looking for.” Ramon was getting a bit more excited about the scheme but he still had doubts.
“You leave that to me, Ramon. If I can get to Bruce Wayne, I can get to the rest.”

Barbara was finally able to reach Selina. Canceling their appointment posed no problem for the newswoman and they rescheduled for later in the week. Barbara asked her if she intended to lambaste Gotham’s crime fighters again in the news but Selina replied that the task was being assigned to someone else. Her new assignment, she told Barbara, was to do a profile on Bruce Wayne. When asked for suggestions on how to approach him, Barbara recommended she go through Alfred, Bruce’s personal manservant and confidante. Later, Barbara reflected on her advice to Selina and thought that they would make a good couple. If she left them alone maybe something would flourish between them.

That night Batgirl and Batman ran into each other unexpectedly around the midnight hour. The encounter was awkward and the conversation stilted. Batgirl had trouble looking at Batman and thinking of Bruce Wayne underneath. He was devastated by the imbalance in knowledge. It made him appear less confident. Batgirl tried to reach out to him and even thought about unmasking herself to set things right but she ultimately decided not to. His problems ran much deeper and if he were to better himself, she reckoned, this would be a good start. She advised him to take a night off but he would hear nothing of it. They parted with no agreed plan to check in with each other soon.
Batman’s night further deteriorated when, on a routine collar, he was clocked by a roundhouse right that sent him sprawling backwards. He was slow to get up and the thug kicked him in the ribs finding a seam in his body armor. He writhed in pain as the criminal laughed, spit on him, and ran. He decided he had had enough.

Barbara Gordon’s suggestion to reach Bruce Wayne through Alfred was spot on. Selina decided the best way to get inside Bruce Wayne was to work her way in through Wayne Manor. Sure, as a reporter she could interview him and allow him to seduce her. However, he may be on guard and not allow her to get too close. Further, even if successful, it would point the finger of blame in her direction. She decided to go under cover and what better way than becoming one of her sources-the domestic help who tended to know the most about their employers. An “accident” caused one of the maids to call in sick for an extended leave and without delay the agency sent a replacement, a role Selina knew all too well how to play. Her mother spent many thankless years toiling for rich people only to beaten savagely by one after being falsely accused of stealing. Instead of offering a settlement the bastard chose to call on connections and have a change made to her residential status. Soon, she was deported, sent back broke and broken. Selina’s life was dedicated to breaking the family string of working for others.
As a reporter it was easy to manufacture a resume for any role and soon she was receiving a tour of the Manor and an outline of her tasks. She and all other staff were restricted from the study. Alfred was the only one entitled to enter. Accommodations would be made for her in the servants quarters-off of the main house, she was free to leave the estate during her free time but she like all house staff was required to be back by 10:00PM. She had a genuine nervousness at first that became excitement when she was introduced to Alfred. The way the other staff spoke about him there was no question that the hierarchy began with him. Although articulate enough to broadcast the news, she reverted back to her native accent to appear less threatening.
“Miss Octavio, is it? Welcome aboard. I trust you have been shown around and understand you responsibilities adequately, hmm? You are younger and prettier than I asked the agency for-Mr. Wayne is a lady’s man after all-but your credentials appear impeccable. I do not wish you luck here, rather I expect excellence.”
“Jes, Meester Alfred, thank you very much.” He came on strong but Selina knew she could handle him easily. Just give me a few days she thought as she planned her strategy. Before he left, Selina noticed Alfred look back at her once more before exiting. She nodded vulnerably thinking he should be the one to be careful.

Barbara looked forward to her rescheduled workout with Selina that evening. Without Batman on the prowl her workload doubled. Catwoman’s gang upped their rate and executed jobs every night, sometimes multiple jobs on the same night. As the numbers grew she could not keep pace. She needed Batman but when she when she tried to reach him on the Batphone he did not answer. When she went to see him as Barbara at Wayne Manor Alfred told her that he was unavailable. This workout would be a welcome relief to her hectic schedule.
Selina was a bit late blaming a last minute meeting. Barbara asked her if she spoke to Bruce Wayne yet but she responded that she had not had the opportunity to arrange anything yet. Since she had already changed into her workout gear, Barbara took advantage of watching Selina strip down and change into her outfit.
“What I wouldn’t give to have your body,” she commented.
“Please, Barbara, I am sure many a man finds you very fine indeed,” Selina sent back. Their flirtations came out in mutual compliments and the longer a conversation went on, the more suggestive they became.
Once again they worked out hard building up a determined sweat and challenging each other at each machine, each routine. They finally left the gym for the locker room with an invigorated drain.
“That,” Barbara began, “was even fiercer than last work out.” She pulled her lycra top off revealing breasts reddened with the exertion that flushed her face. Released they jiggled but never drooped.
“Somehow you bring out the fighter in me, Babe,” Selina shot back opting to remove her bottoms. Barbara loved looking at Selina’s pussy. It somehow looked like how womanhood should look. Selina could feel Barbara’s eyes on her. She looked back and, somewhat taken aback by being caught, Barbara silently removed her bottoms as well and stood completely naked before her.
Selina stole a glance and then another. She could not believe her eyes. Barbara’s pussy was now mostly shaven save for a small patch of hair just at the top of her slit. It was the exact same trim she had given Batgirl a week earlier. There couldn’t be two. “Barbara, you’ve been holding out on me.”
“What’s that, Selina?”
“Bar-bar-a Gordon, explain yourself,” she playfully demanded as she boldly touched and yanked the sparse hair of her workout partner’s nether region.
“Oh yeah that,” she blushed. How could she explain it? She was amazed that the shaving was so close that none of the hair had grown back yet. Would it always be like that? “It’s just a spontaneous thing that kind of happened,” she tried to explain.
“Did you do it yourself?” Selina asked.
“Eh, no, I had help.” How could she end this?
“Care to share with me who the lucky person was?” Selina pushed more.
Barbara paused. Maybe this would be a good time to tell her about her other life. Did she know her well enough yet? She certainly was attracted to her as if they had a bond. Caution ruled though. “Maybe some other time. Let’s shower.”
“Well I think it’s cute,” and with that Selina tested her limits further by reaching down to touch it again while gently stroking her finger across Barbara’s clitoris. The effect was immediate arousal. Barbara wanted to jump her bones.
“Selina, you are a fiend,” Barbara moaned.
“Yes, I’ve heard that before,” and walked into the showers.
Barbara followed almost possessed. Under the driving waters they soaped up and rinsed locking eyes during the entire process. Barbara wanted to enjoy the same pleasure she recently felt from another woman but did not know how to approach it with Selina. Selina was seeking the same although for different motives. If I can get back to her apartment I can knock her out and search the place for the conclusive evidence I need. What a story: Barbara Gordon, Commissioner’s librarian daughter, is Batgirl! Maybe I could buy the station with that soundbite.
After dressing, Barbara suggested they go for a drink. To her delight, Selina suggested getting a bottle of wine and meeting her at Barbara’s building. This was working out nicely-they would be together in no time. She grabbed her things, made sure Selina had the address, and left ahead of her to clean up the perpetual mess. Barbara said she wanted it to look presentable but deep down she wanted it to look romantic.
Selina could not believe her luck. She would expose Batgirl and steal the WayneTech secrets. Wayne! What time was it? She looked at her watch and realized she would not have enough time to accomplish what she wanted this evening and return in time to her quarters at Wayne Manor. “That’s okay, Selina. You know what you want and you know how to get it. Rrrrrouw.” Suddenly, she looked less alluring and more dangerous. She dialed Barbara’s mobile phone and offered excuses.

At Wayne Manor, Selina’s diligence and work ethic were evident immediately. She only had to be told something once and she completed her tasks without shortcuts. The rest of the staff found her agreeable. Now was the time to start working on Alfred. Whenever she had the opportunity she managed to make some idle conversation or comment on his handsome features. Despite their age or sexual preference (she wasn’t sure about Alfred) all men loved to be complimented. One evening when she knew Bruce Wayne was home she managed to find herself alone in the kitchen with Alfred. She offered him an apple.
“No thank you, Miss Octavio, I quite prefer other fruits.”
“I’ll bet you do,” was what she thought but it came out, “well then what I can I offer you?”
“I think I will take a kiwi.”
His choice had surprised Selina but she had prepared well-the whole bowl of fruit was laced with a hypnotic coating. He precisely skinned the fruit and began eating it. He clearly enjoyed it.
“Are you enjoying it Alfie, baby?”
He looked at her queerly. Did she say Alfie? “Yes, it is most succulent,” was his reply. Soon he was a standing zombie, waiting for instruction. Selina did not waste time. She questioned him for Bruce Wayne’s whereabouts. He responded that he was upstairs in the bath and that he was expected to bring his towels to him shortly. Selina asked him if he would be shocked if she delivered them. He responded, “It would be most unusual but lately, he has not been his normal self. I can’t truly say.”
Selina decided to risk it and rely on her natural sexuality and ability to act innocently. She looked at herself in the mirror. The outfit certainly wasn’t French maid but her figure did not make it androgynous either. She found the towels upstairs and walked nonchalantly into the bathroom. Despite her preparations to the contrary, it was difficult not to stop and check him out. She had never seen him in person but on TV or in magazines he looked handsome but not knock down gorgeous. He always looked good in a suit, which she attributed to expert tailoring but now, reclining naked in the tub she saw that it was the muscular frame of his body that gave him definition. Through the soapiness of the water she could also see that this was one millionaire that could attract as many women with his dick as his money. He was huge while totally flaccid. She stood there stupidly.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” he asked with more distance than annoyance.
“Sorry, Meester Wayne, Meester Alfred asked me to bring these up to you,” she tried to keep the Spanish accent thick.
“He did?” Wayne asked suspiciously, “why couldn’t he bring them up himself?”
“He said he was indis-a-pos-ed, Meester Wayne.” Was this working she questioned herself.
“Set them down on the chair. Yo no conosco. ¿Como se llama?”
“My name is Gabriela Anita Teresa Octavio, Meester Wayne.”
He then proceeded to start talking to her in Spanish with a fluency influenced by European accent but excellent for a gringo. Further, the way he was rambling indicated that he understood it naturally, he was not just showing off. She stood there listening but not knowing how to react, not knowing if she should offer to excuse herself. He covered a range of topics and began a descantation on comparative Latin literature. Selina could tell that not only had she read the books but read them in their native language. He asked her if she had read any of the authors he mentioned. She wasn’t sure if it was a test. After determining that she really was Hispanic maybe he was trying to trap her by exposing her education and pedigree. Clearly a woman as educated as she would not be working as a maid. But he had so many good and original ideas and opinions, many that she shared many that she would love to debate. He asked her a question about her reading habits.
“No Senor Wayne, me gusta la lectura pero libros de romanticos solamente.”
He continued on with his thoughts that she found increasingly difficult to not comment on. She opted for a diversion. “Meester Wayne, is there anything else?”
“Yes, would you mind soaping my back?”
That was bold she thought. Nevertheless, she grabbed a bar of soap-a nice sweetly scented soap-off the ledge of the tub and softly made circles on his broad back with it. Maybe this would be the way to seduce him-let him think he was seducing her. She had to admit though that she liked the sense of strength she felt coming from his body. At first he was silent and she did not know if she should take the lead. Then began speaking again by reciting Latin poetry-Pablo Neruda-softly. The distance in his voice made the poems all the more sensuous. She continued to soap his back becoming entranced by the cadence of his voice. Maybe after all these years, she thought, he’s the one. He is sensitive, intelligent, fabulously rich…just then the soap fell over the front of his shoulder and down his chest into the water. Moving in split second reactive time, Selina instinctively reached down for it. Only her fishing did not produce the soap rather she had his penis in her hand. Unlike her normal persona she was embarrassed. She began to immediately apologize but she did not let it go right away. His reaction was coolly mechanical.
“It seems that lately I have been surrounded by aggressive women who seem to want a piece of me. Are you one also?”
Selina did not understand his question. “I’m so sorry Meester Wayne. Please don’t fire me.”
“What happened to the good old days when a man could make the first move.” Selina was perplexed what was he talking about? He continued, “fire you? No. Maybe you should just finish what you start.” His voice rose as he completed his sentence and without warning he reached behind and grabbed Selina by the back of the neck and pulled her toward the water. The force almost lifted her off her feet and succeeded into pulling her into the tub with him. “Is it my cock? Is that what you want?”
“Please Meester Wayne”
“Shut up! Quit talking and start working.” He then forced her head under the water and placed his dick into her mouth. Still holding the back of her neck he began moving her head back and forth. She was still under water. Selina was not sure what to do. She was put in an awkward position but she felt she still had an out. He kept her head under water and she opened her eyes to better survey her predicament. Her mouth was still on his penis and it was beginning to stiffen. She instinctively began working the member. A few more strokes and I’ll come up for air, she thought. Only he did not let her. He kept her head under the water and forced her to continue sucking him. Selina began to fell woozy and was searching for an out. He won’t let me die. The water element had her confused.
Finally, he pulled her head up out of the water. She gasped desperately as her eyes bulged. Two breaths were all he allowed before he forced her back under. This time it was even more uncomfortable. His cock had grown and it was deep into her throat. She had taken in men this large before but she had always been in control. With his size and control he was choking her. She came up with the idea to make him come as quickly as possible and actually work harder on his dick to make it happen. Only he held out. I can’t take much more she thought dizzily. If I bite it off I am liable to suffocate anyway. Why is he doing this? I’m fading…so much for my plans to expose Batgirl, make it rich, enjoy my power…I can’t believe this playboy has beaten me…
Just as her consciousness began to slip he yanked her head up again. She was too weak to gasp but still alive to breathe. In one motion he ripped of her uniform and threw her limp body over the side of the tub so she knelt in it with her stomach straddling the edge and her face kissing the marble. He pulled her panties down to her knees then took his engorged penis and rammed it up her anus. She was unprepared for the intrusion and his massive size. She screamed but that only served to make him more excited. This man is raping me and I, the conqueror of Batman and Batgirl, am helpless. He thrust violently with grunting and ranting. He made comments about teaching someone a lesson but in her fog she could not make out to whom he was referring. He pulled out of her so abruptly it made a popping sound and he moved her body around to take him in her mouth again. She was too weak to accommodate him and his gizm burst all over her face. He let go of her and climbed out of the tub. “I’ll be right back” is all he said as she slid back into the water.
This time she had barely fallen under when he picked her up and held her in his arms blanketed by a towel the size of a sheet. He carefully wrapped her in it and gently pat her dry. Once again she felt secure, so secure she felt like purring. How could that be? This man just violated me. What kind of wacko is he? Still in his arms he carried her over to his bed and set he down upon the satin sheets. The two levels of treatment were so different she began to doubt the first encounter. Then she felt her throbbing anus and knew the first happened as well.
Wayne peeled away the towel and delicately removed her torn pantyhose and any other scraps of clothing. She lay there completely naked looking up to him. What would he do next? She saw that he was stiff again and could not believe it. This guy is Superman. He stroked her hair and with a wave of passion she felt her spirit returning. They proceeded to make love tenderly and joyously. She was able to enjoy the feeling of his girth that complemented the length of his magnificent penis. Their union was almost perfect. Soon after each came, they fell asleep.
Selina awoke first. She had no idea what time it was. She looked around the bathroom for her uniform. In it she had her cat lipstick which would force Bruce Wayne to tell her the truth to questions she asked. It would also keep him unconscious a while longer. She applied it flawlessly. Selina nudged Bruce awake and he groggily responded, “What, what is it?”
“I just wanted to kiss you, silly.” He grunted a response but did not fight off her advance. Selina did not want to waste too much time and began asking him questions about his wealth and the numbers to his Swiss accounts. He replied without hesitation although it was difficult to understand him because he was so far anesthetized. She asked him a few more questions to ensure the veracity of his responses. Then she asked him, “where do you keep the secrets?”
He responded, “Secrets…so many secrets.”
“Yes, Bruce, but where do you keep the most valuable ones?”
“In the study…under Shakespeare’s bust…”
“What? What does that mean?”
“The head moves…the head moves and there is a switch for a secret panel.”
“Thank you Mr. Wayne.” She had what she thought she needed-Waynetech’s secrets. Her ego forced her to ask one more question, “by the way, with whom did you have the best sex ever?” She was waiting to hear her made up name but his response floored her.
“Catwoman…Catwoman gave me the best sex.”
She stormed out of the room misinterpreting his remarks and not yet knowing the true meaning of what he said. “I can’t believe he knew it was me all along. How did he know?”

Barbara had planned on taking the night off but at the last minute decided she would grace the City with Batgirl’s presence after all. She did not know what Batman’s schedule was and she had to fight off the urge to call Wayne Manor to find out. She wondered how many other people knew of Batman's secret. Obviously, Dick Grayson knew. That was a no brainer to figure out Robin’s true identity. Maybe his butler, Alfred, yes definitely, Alfred. Daddy once said that a nice British chap often answered the phone for Batman. Who else knew? Did it matter? Suddenly, she felt a bit remorseful that she did not have anyone to share her secret with. Who would she tell? Out of obligation she would eventually tell Batman. Her father? Never. He would worry too much. Selina? Maybe. She had never been too good at forming tight girlfriend relationships but this seemed to be going well. The way she touched me at the gym, Barbara thought, she might be my lover. Who knows? It sure felt good when Catwoman had her way. Wouldn’t the idea of me with another woman make Daddy faint?

Selina grabbed a pair of sweat pants and a shirt from Bruce’s closet and proceeded to work her way through the mansion and down to the study. Surprisingly, it was not locked but given the way that most of the staff blindly and faithfully obeyed orders it wasn’t too much of a shock. She entered and began prowling around relying on her preternatural night vision. Of course, she had control of the house and such stealth wasn’t necessary but it felt good nevertheless. On a table behind a leather sofa she saw the Shakespeare bust. Looking under the table she saw a small transmitter. “That must control the sliding door. I wonder which wall it is?” She touched the surface of the bust lightly and softly felt around for a break. It wasn’t difficult. The head rolled back leaving two buttons to choose. “Open and close or yes and booby-trap?” She decided the odds were worth a chance. Sure enough the wall behind her slid open exposing two poles similar to a firehouse. “Well, isn’t this intriguing? An underground vault, what could he possibly have under there?” Emboldened by her first choice she walked to the pole wrapped one leg around it and slid down. Looking down she saw that the pole went fairly deep but there was a first landing. “Let’s explore this first,” she said as she stopped herself and jumped off. It was darker than the study but soon a light automatically illuminated with a gradual incandescence. What appeared did not register at first. “Is this a vault for his costume parties,” she thought. Then she noticed all the costumes were the same and all the costumes were for Batman. The realization and excitement almost made her lose her magnificent sense of balance. She actually felt nervous and had the feeling of wanting to pee in her pants. She spun around and went to the costumes all on hangers. She pulled them off and looked at them and put them back on the rack as if shopping. “This cannot be,” she kept repeating out loud, “this cannot be.”
She looked down the pole and said, “Well, if these are the Bat costumes, that must be the Batcave. It must be worth a look.” This time she jumped to the pole and slid down with abandon, softly landing on the cushioned bottom. She ran around like a child with boundless energy. Stopping and looking around she was slightly intimidated by its vastness and noticed that there was a real lonely feel to the place. She cursed herself for not knowing enough about computers to sabotage his Bat-databases but she knew she already had all the aces. Batman and Batgirl uncovered in the same week. What other arch villain could boast that?
Not wanting to be discovered she decided to head back up and make her way unseen to the servants’ quarters. She was no match for him in his own house. On the way up she stopped on the first level again and took a souvenir: one of Batman’s cowls. “I think this might come in handy later.”
The next day Gabriela Anita Teresa Octavio resigned effective immediately. Alfred accepted it reluctantly and cursed his boss. “I knew she was too attractive to work here,” he reflected, “he had his way with her, I’m sure. I hope he didn’t take advantage of her too badly.”

Bruce Wayne awoke the next morning rejuvenated. He wasn’t sure if it was the sex with his maid or something else but his malaise had ended. He felt in control again. He checked in with his secretary and looked after a few business matters then decided to hit the streets as Batman. He felt the need to have his presence re-established.
Normally, Batman was the Prince of Darkness but every now and then he patrolled in the daylight to keep the criminals off guard and remind them that his vigilance was constant. He drove around in the Batmobile with a certain arrogance. He really did not want to get involved in breaking up any crimes, he just parade around and strut. Usually very focused on business, today he felt a horniness coursing through his body and dominating his thoughts. He tried to analyze it. “Why have I recently given in to temptation while working as Batman. Between Catwoman and Barbara Gordon I have been barely able to keep myself in my costume. What gives? What is it about those two women that I cannot control? Maybe they are one in the same. Wouldn’t that be a hoot? The Commissioner’s daughter the arch criminal of the City-maybe I should have another look into Miss Gordon’s activities, just to be sure.”
Lechery kicked into over drive and Batman changed directions to head back downtown to Barbara’s apartment. It was around six-thirty so he figured she would be back and the bankers and brokers should have completed their daily exodus from City. He should be able to look into her apartment without drawing attention.
When he arrived he found that the situation was even better than he could have planned. The building next door to hers was being renovated and had scaffolding erected around it. He should be able to look directly in from a good vantage point. He parked his car in an alley (unknowingly the same alley used for Batgirl’s motorcycle) and made his way up the metal maze. He scaled it quite easily and perched himself in a position that hid him from view from passersby on the street.
Barbara had arrived home just minutes before and had a package waiting for her. A new Batgirl outfit had arrived and she was anxious to try it on. She stripped down to just her panties and opened the box. It looked just as she had designed (sporting a black motif instead of purple) and forsaking her usual practice of changing in her hidden closet she started to put it on in the living room in front of her big mirror.
From his box seat look out Batman saw Barbara walk into the living room wearing nothing but a pair of panties and carrying a box. He immediately felt his pulse shifting to his groin. He saw Barbara reach into the box and pull out a pair of black tights that she struggled a bit to get on but he understood why-they hugged her like skin. He admired her admiring herself in front of the mirror topless and in the form fitting pants. Then she sprung as if an idea popped in her mind and ran into another room. She soon came back, still topless and tits bouncing in stride, but now she was wearing a red wig. “This is getting interesting,” Batman thought, “there is definitely a kinky side to the Commissioner’s daughter that I never knew about.” Again, she stood in front of the mirror scrutinizing herself in different positions. She went back to the box and pulled out a tunic that she placed her arms in like a smock and zipped up in back. Interestingly, upon zipping it the seam disappeared and the top and bottom seamed to blend into one piece. There was a small insignia on the top part of her chest that he could not quite make out and he wondered if it was a manufacturer’s tag. Regardless, she looked great in the outfit and wondered for what occasions she might wear it. This reverse striptease was having swelling affect on his manhood. He became slightly confused when she went to the box again and withdrew two garments that he could not immediately distinguish. He would not have to think long for in a second she attached a cape and confidently slid on a mask to complete the outfit. With a force, his previous ignorance whipped him and he realized that he just figured out the Batgirl secret and was now fully erect. He could not resist cashing in immediately and slid open the window from the ledge. “Mind if I drop in?” he inquired.
Batgirl was just putting on her first glove (she never made it to her boots) when the noise of the window startled her. She saw Batman climbing non-chalently into her apartment and heard him saying something that she didn’t catch. Quickly, she raced for a plausible explanation. First, was she Batgirl or Barbara? How much did he just see? Why would Batgirl be here? Why would Barbara be dressed like this?
“Heavens, Batman, what brings you here?” she started.
“Oh, I’m just checking in on my partner in crime fighting,” he countered.
“Partner? Batman, you flatter me. I was just er, trying on my new costume for the Gotham Ball. Do you think it’s realistic?” Barbara was speeding. She was excited to have him in her apartment again like she wanted but still felt a need to protect her Batgirl identity.
“Yes, very realistic” he said grabbing the material at her taut abdomen, “I think using kevlar material is very authentic for just a costume party.” His voice was laced with playful sarcasm.
“Well Batman you should know that I’d do anything for your approval.” She was trying to play dumb and distracting but she did not feel too convincing.
“I think your costume is very real. In fact, I cannot tell if you are Batgirl or Barbara. Which one are you?” Batman would play a little, too.
“I’m Barbara, silly. Can you really imagine me as Batgirl?”
“Frankly, I do not know what to imagine these days.” Batman looked deep into her and could not believe he did not recognize her earlier-now everything made sense. He decided to call her bluff. “But, if you are Barbara and you say you want my approval then, Barbara, you’ll appreciate this...” In a quick motion he pulled down his shorts and tights releasing his massive erection.
Barbara was momentarily stunned at what she saw now waiting for her and seemingly staring at her. “Oh my,” was all she could say initially then she thought for a split second and said, “let me slip out of this quickly and I will be right back.”
“No, no, no Barbara. If you want to play my partner you must take me as your partner.”
Barbara looked down at his erection again and watched it dance in pulsing excitement. It did look incredible. Watching Catwoman take him was one thing but now imaging herself handling it was intimidating. She slowly dropped to her knees and stared at it eye level. “Oh God, this will be a test,” she thought as she began to feel insecure about her ability to please him orally. She strategized on how she would blow him. She was not too experienced in fellatio to begin with and thought the mask might make it more cumbersome. She also knew she would never be able to take him all the way in. “Just begin,” she counseled herself, “and see what happens.”
She started by grabbing his shaft with her gloved hand to steady him and kissing the tip to remove the pre-cum that was already seeping. She then put her whole mouth over the head and sucked lightly. She moved her mouth down further on his shaft but when his head it the back of her throat she was only had a third of him in her mouth. “Plan B.” She reasoned she could achieve better coverage with her tongue so she slid off his tool making sure to keep a pressured contact from her lips as she withdrew him. Keeping her hand on his cock but moving down toward his balls, she then began to lick the back of his shaft and up and down the sides. She continued for a few minutes knowing she would have to take him in again and wanting to bring him that pleasure. Contrary to what she initially thought the mask posed no problem going down on him. In fact, the thought of her in costume sucking off Batman turned her on and she felt herself moisten in her groin. She tried to channel that excitement into a more vigorous blowjob and took him in her mouth again. Barbara relaxed her throat a bit and now was able to accommodate a little more than half of him in her mouth. She bobbed up and down careful to pleasure the head and take in whatever length she could handle.
She felt comfortable with this oral penetration but Batman obviously wanted more as he placed his hand on the back of her head and prodded her to go deeper. She did not want to hold back but was afraid to gag so she took her free ungloved hand and began to caress his balls to further his excitement. The more he pushed her head down, the tighter she squeezed. The unspoken arrangement achieved its goal and soon they were both able to enjoy both the giving and the receiving. Barbara’s confidence with her ability to satisfy increased and she reached a bit further but still could not take him entirely in. Plus, she began to think that she did not want him coming in her mouth rather inside her.
Batman looked down on the sight below him. There she is the mighty and smart assed Batgirl sucking me off. Or, if I’d rather, the Commissioner’s daughter is going down on Batman. It’s like two blow jobs in one. The circumstance of the blowjob felt better than the act. She was obviously not too well acquainted with the act but she seemed to be a quick study. Although he wanted her to go deeper on him, the more she reached the more her teeth dug into to him. It hurt but gave him the advantage of holding off his orgasm. “Let’s settle this thing once and for all,” he thought further. He put his hands over her ears and pulled her head back off of him. She looked up and questioned him with her eyes but he just moved his hands down to her shoulders and nudged her on her back onto the hardwood floor. He found the waistband of her pants and pulled them down taking her panties with them. She lay there looking up lovingly with just the top half of her costume. Batman looked down at her smart vagina, not fleshy, with its wisp of hair.
“Tell me, Barbara, in your effort to look authentically like Batgirl how is it that you knew exactly how she shaved her pussy. Remember, I have seen both before.” Batman wanted her to admit her duality.
“Shut up and fuck me,” she moaned in response.
“Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you and I’ll fuck you good but tell me,” as he took the tip of his dick and began rubbing it against her clitoris, “whom am I fucking: Barbara or Batgirl?” He moved his tool around her lips but would not insert it.
“Ooooh,” was all she moaned.
“Who wants this?” again pressing directly on her hardening clit, “Barbara or Batgirl?”
“B-B-Ba-Ba-B-B”
“Who?” He was sliding it furiously now up and down.
The pleasure was too much. Her juices were gushing from her. Why was he teasing her so? “B-b-b-both of us want you to fuck us!” she screamed and he rewarded her by plunging deep into her vagina and filling her cavity.
Batman vigorously pumped away inserting himself deep into her womanhood. He pushed up her tunic in an effort to remove it but it was so tight that he stopped when her right breast was exposed. He grabbed it with his left hand and used his right arm to hold up her left leg. She added her own twist to their lovemaking by grabbing the base of his cock with her ungloved hand and holding it tight, creating a further tightening sensation around his cock. His size and text book rhythm gave Batgirl shuddering waves of ecstasy and she began to scream with each emerging orgasm. He finally could hold out no longer and soon followed with an explosion of semen deep into her uterus. With his dick still inside her they both paused to reflect on the moment. Both of them drenched in sweat and locked in conjugal battle, always trying to out do the other. They broke into a sincere good-hearted laughter.

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

The following day while watching the news, Barbara scrambled to dial Bruce Wayne’s number. She paced back and forth waiting for Bruce to pick up as her friend, Selina, announced to all of Gotham City that she would be hosting a special show where Catwoman would reveal the true identities of both Batman and Batgirl. Barbara knew Selina well enough to appreciate that she was ambitious but she did not make false claims to attract attention. If she was doing this show, Selina must have something big.
She couldn’t wait to get to her father’s office to call on the Batphone. Alfred, Bruce Wayne’s lifelong butler and confidante answered the phone.
“Alfred, this is Barbara Gordon. I need to speak to Mr. Wayne immediately.”
“May I ask what this is in reference to, Miss Gordon?”
“Please just tell him it is urgent.” There was a pause of a few minutes. Barbara wondered if Bruce shared his exploits with his butler and, if he did how much detail would he have given him. Was the secret of their identities between them? She made a mental note to clarify that point with him the next time they spoke. Poor Alfred, I am so nervous he probably thought I was just another hysterical nymphet conquered by Bruce. Finally, Bruce Wayne picked up the phone and asked cautiously,
“Barbara, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” He immediately engaged his phone tracer to check the number of the phone she was calling from. What did she want? Did she think we were a couple now?
“Bruce, have you seen the news? Catwoman is going to be on tomorrow’s news to expose my identity along with your..Batman’s.”
“Barbara,” Bruce began, “calm down. Should we be speaking somewhere else? Where are you calling from?”
“My home. Don’t worry it’s a secured line.”
“It’s probably some sort of journalistic hoax. How can you be sure she is telling the truth?”
“She said her proof was irrefutable and, as evidence, she held up one of your cowls.”
“My cowl? I’ll tell you what, I will check into it but do not do anything until I call you back, okay?”
Bruce hung up and paused to think. This relationship will be one tricky one to pull off. She is so young in some ways. But God does she have one tight pussy. He then wandered off to thinking about sex with her again and filed the identity crisis to the back of his priorities for the day.

Selina was glowing. It was one of those feline qualities exuded by confidence. She was now in a position to toy with her prey and she wanted to make the most out of it. She called in Ramon for a strategy session.
“Ramon, we have a very unique opportunity right now. Since we have Batman and Batgirl on the ropes I have expanded our scope. At first I thought having access to the Wayne billions would bankroll us. Now I realize that is only one man’s wealth and not enough. I believe we can destroy the credibility of the Gotham police force as well. I will fill that power vacuum and after that the City will be ours to run and with it, we shall waltz in and continue to exercise our control through our new media conglomerate. The situation is purrrrfect.”
“Selina, this is it. We have finally reached the point to assert our power. Latinos will rule this City as they should.”
“I will rule this City, Ramon, make no mistake about that. This will be an empire of one and that one will be me. Now listen there is still much more to do before tomorrow night. We still have our Catlist of things to do to make sure things go smoothly.”
“I am already on top of it, Catwoman. I have hired the best musclemen to take care of Batman should he become unruly during the show.”
“No, Ramon, thugs are not the key to stopping Batman. I will control Batman through his one weakness and show Gotham his deviant side as well. Here’s what I need for you to do…”

Barbara sat through her committee meetings but found it impossible to concentrate on the agenda. Why hadn’t Bruce called her back and how did Catwoman found out their identities were just two of the recurring questions that she struggled to answer in her thoughts. I wonder if Catwoman has revealed her secrets to Selina already. How can I talk to Selina without exposing myself to her in case she doesn’t know or if Catwoman’s game is just a ruse. Maybe I should just call her and see what happens.
The intrusive tone of a mobile phone disturbed the meeting. It was Barbara’s and the eyes of everyone at the table offered their judgement of the interruption. With slight embarrassment Barbara excused herself. To her delight it was Selina.
“Hey Selina, believe it or not I was just thinking about you.”
“You were? Well you have been on my thoughts lately, too. We must get together soon.” She did not want to reveal her hand yet but the opportunity to play with Barbara’s mind was too great to resist. She in fact had all the cards. She was calling from Barbara’s apartment where she had just found the secret closet. As she spoke she took a costume off the rack and held it against her body as if considering buying it.
“Of course, name the day.” How much did she know?
“Barbara, I have a big favor to ask of you. I have been trying to call your father’s office but they won’t take my calls because of the way that I report on the police. But I am trying to make it up to them. Catwoman has just called me to prepare for tomorrow’s show. She wants to meet tonight at the old sound studio. I wanted to let Batman and Batgirl know so they could be there and capture her. Naturally, I would want the exclusive on the arrest and subsequent unmasking of Catwoman. I think that should have some interest for my viewers. However, if the Commissioner will not take my call I have no way to speak to them. Could you be a doll and let him know so he can inform them?”
This was the break she needed. “Sure, Selina, no problem. Just tell me where and when and I’ll make sure the message gets to them.” She had to speak to Bruce. Where was he?

The time for the meeting was rapidly approaching and Barbara sat in her apartment in costume waiting. Bruce never returned one of her calls. Where the hell has he run off to? I know I promised him I wouldn’t do anything without him but he didn’t say he was going to be in communicado. If I don’t show up Selina will have no choice but to go ahead with the show Catwoman wants to do. Forget him. I will have to take care of this myself. Besides I will have the element of surprise and I can handle it.
Batgirl sped on her bike toward the old studio. She wondered if the reason for Bruce’s snub had anything to do with their sleeping together the other night. Now that he knows my identity does that mean I should be ignored? Regardless, of what his motives where (or weren’t) Batgirl was confident that because of her take charge actions, Batman and she would be on equal footing after she captures Catwoman again.
The location of the old sound stage really afforded this meeting some privacy. Ever since it was abandoned years ago for Hollywood, the whole section of the City supporting it died as well. It was years since anyone used it for anything purposeful. Batgirl arrived early wanting to take full advantage of being able to plan her attack. She stalked the premises carefully almost imitating the burglars she apprehended. Abandoned for years she had no problem finding a broken window to enter without being noticed.
She walked around trying to take in everything encased in the spacious size. While waiting for Batman she had tried to access blueprints of the building from the City archives but their system was down. She tried to keep her historical interest in the site from her watchful job as she tiptoed about the place. She entered one of the ancient TV studios where they had variety shows and walked down the center aisle. Just for practice she effortlessly bound on stage, spun around to take in the view form there, and headed for a side exit. She had taken three steps when the stage floor below her gave and she shot straight down through a trap door.
Despite the surprise Batgirl was able adjust her rapid descent enough to make sure she would land on the balls of her feet and be able to roll into the fall. She executed perfectly but as she came up from her roll two of Catwoman’s henchmen were waiting and quickly grabbed her arms as if a choreographed routine. They dragged her backwards and as she moved she saw Catwoman come into view walking toward her at a slightly slower pace than her forced retreat.
“So Batgirl, you are right on time. I do appreciate punctuality.”
“What have you done with Selina Calle, Catwoman. If you harm her in anyway I’ll make sure your life is a continuing hell.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little self about her although I’m sure she will be touched by your concern. Ha, ha, ha. Pity, I’d love to chat more but I’m a bit pressed for time right now so gentlemen if you don’t mind please relieve Batgirl of her costume.”
The two massive thugs continued to hold her by her arms and two more instantly appeared. She watched them cautiously then one walked behind her and out of view but not out of presence as she felt the back of her costume being unzipped. She was amazed that he could find the zipper that quickly. Even she had trouble locating it at times. Just as she recovered from that shock she realized his accomplice had already removed one of her gloves and now was just pulling the second off her hand. Batgirl broke out of that jolt to realize her cape had already be removed and her top, by now completely unzipped was being pushed frontward over her shoulders. In an orchestrated movement one thug moved the hold on her arm as the other slipped the sleeve off. This was repeated with equal precision with the other arm in no time at all.
Batgirl looked down at her bare top and realized the severity of the situation. She braced to fight back when the unfolding sight in front of her distracted her. In a manner that could only be called copycat, Catwoman began stripping in front of her. She started by grabbing the zipper in the front of her suit and zipping down beyond her crotch and in a dexterous switch of hands reaching behind herself and continuing up her back. Amazingly, Catwoman’s outfit was two pieces divided vertically. With a shrug it fell off her shoulders down to her hips where she peeled it off her legs. Batgirl watched transfixed. Catwoman wore no undergarments and there was that incredible and intoxicating body. Even though she had only seen it once it looked so familiar. Very familiar. Batgirl was sure that if she concentrated hard enough she would figure out a connection. Only then Batgirl realized that she had been stripped down herself wearing nothing but her cowl and thong panties.
“Do you want the mask, Catwoman?” one of the tabbies asked.
“No,” Catwoman began as she walked up close to the superheroine, “I think I will let Batgirl keep her precious secret for a little while longer.” And, in a display of absolute control she slid her fingers up the crimefighter’s mask covering Batgirl’s eyes then slowly parted her hands skimming over her soft complexion until she reached Batgirl’s ears. She brought them back down again without disturbing the coverage the mask and cowl provided. “Is that okay with you darling? Ha, ha, ha.”
“You see, Batgirl, I don’t need your mask. Do you know why? Because I have one of my very own.” Catwoman turned around and removed her Cat mask and slipped on another hood. Batgirl strained to she of she could identify Catwoman but the angle did not offer a clear view. When she turned around Batgirl noticed it did indeed resemble one her cowls. “Do you know where I got this, Batgirl? Well, dear, I found it in the hidden closet of one the elite socialites of Gotham. I wonder who that could be?”
Batgirl stood there stunned. This wasn’t a ruse. She knew exactly who she was and probably Batman, too. Batman! Where was he?
“You know, boys,” Catwoman said to no one in particular as she checked herself out in a mirror, “something’s missing. Oh yeah, the hair.”
In two long strides Catwoman was in her face again. She looked Batgirl directly in the eyes. Without warning or hesitation she pulled up Batgirl’s cowl with her left hand and removed the wig with her right. “Keep her in the cage boys until I get back,” and Catwoman threw Batgirl’s mask into the open door of the nearby prison cell. The thugs shoved Batgirl forcefully into box and she struggled to stay on her feet. She reached down and put her cowl back on. It felt funny without the wig, maybe a little too big. When she looked up Catwoman had already added the red wig to her attire. “Now how do I look Batgirl?” It was amazing. Although she did not look exactly the same, Batgirl was shocked to see how close they resembled each other. The complexions were different but from a distance or in a dark light people would not notice. Even more stupefying was Catwoman’s ability to mimic Batgirl’s voice. It was perfect.
Catwoman informed her henchmen of the time of her return and warned them not to mess with Batgirl in any way if they valued their lives. The Dark Angel stood there imprisoned and humiliated. Humiliated not only by her near nakedness but by the way that she allowed it to happen without struggling one bit. She crossed her arms in a feeble attempt to cover her breasts and looked around helplessly and hopelessly.

From one of the many shadows nestled in the cavernous soundstage, Ramon watched Batgirl from a short distance. He had been watching her for about a half-hour since Catwoman left. Perching his camera on his shoulder he focused in on her from a medium length shot. Funny, but without the costume and red hair she looked just like any other well built woman with a hooded mask. However, knowing she was Batgirl made the picture electrifying. He zoomed in on her breasts that were, in his estimation, spectacular. Her efforts to hide her exposure were meager at best and he tightened his zoom to her nipples which had the pimpled pertness of a woman caught in the cold. His eye worked its way down to her panties. He could make out the raised outline of her vagina and if he strained he thought he could even see the imprint of her labia. As she turned around he marveled at her tight ass. It looked bare with the thong underwear and with each of her aimless steps he saw the responsive flexing of her taut glutes.
Eventually, he moved his lens up to her face and when he caught her eyes he was moved by what he saw. He didn’t see Batgirl but a confused young woman who had the vulnerable look of being outmatched. Her eyes refused to cry but their distraught stare screamed for help. He put his camera down for a moment and reflected on all that was happening. This started as a movement to advance Latinos and now it was becoming a showcase for Selina. She had already admitted as such. He looked again at Batgirl and felt remorse for being part of this. Seeing her caged and practically naked was not the way his mother had raised him to treat women. Shit, she could be one of his sisters. Well, maybe not but it did not seem right all the same. Unconsciously, he moved toward her.
Noticing the approaching body Batgirl stood away from the bars not knowing what to expect. Suddenly, she recognized the man as Selina’s cameraman. She shot to the front.
“Ramon, you have to help me. Get me out of here,” Batgirl implored.
Startled into consciousness by his name being called, Ramon looked up and was seized by the consequences of crossing with Selina. “Sorry Batgirl, Catwoman would toast me if I interfere.”
“Where is Selina then. Is she alright?” Batgirl needed a strong person.
“I told you. She said she would fuck up any one of us that interferes with her plan.” Ramon turned and ran away leaving Batgirl perplexed but with a bell in the back of her head beginning to ring. The familiarity and coincidences were coming together.

After a little more than two hours Catwoman returned in her usual costume carrying Batgirl’s outfit in her arms. She opened the cage door and dropped the pants, top, cape, and accessories (everything but the utility belt) on the floor and simply said, “get dressed you are going to be on TV soon.”
Batgirl’s first reaction was to just say no and refuse Catwoman’s order. Then she rationalized that Catwoman would probably start filming anyway so she might as well comply. First, she grabbed the wig and instinctively turned around to take off her mask before placing it on her head and securing the cowl over it. She realized it was a useless gesture since her identity was obviously known but she would not give Catwoman the satisfaction that she might have given up. As she began to work her way into her tunic she noticed one of Catwoman’s henchman roll up a TV monitor to the cell. Catwoman produced a videotape and said as she popped it into the machine, “I thought you might want to have a look at what you did while I was away.”
Dread crept into Batgirl as she zipped herself up in back and imagined some horrific crime being committed in her name. However, the unfolding carnage was worse than she could ever imagine. There was Catwoman in her Batgirl costume in her father’s office. The office somehow was more dimly lit than usual but not so dark that it affected making out the players.
On the screen it appeared that Batgirl and Commissioner Gordon were engaged in some conversation that became, as time wore on, more closely spaced, more intimate. Her father’s mannerisms and demeanor seemed a bit different almost awkward but it certainly was him. Then she realized why it was different and why she had never seen it: he was flirting. Their conversation continued until Catwoman’s head fell from view. The shot pulled wider and Batgirl saw her tormentor on her knees and undoing her father’s belt buckle. His suit pants fell to his ankles and she grabbed the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down to his knees. Taking his penis in one hand Catwoman began to kiss it and nurse it to an excitable state. She then took him in her mouth and began to energetically suck him off. Batgirl watched petrified, feeling guilty and a bit of revulsion at the sight of her father in such a delicate scenario. She wanted to turn away but could not take her eyes off the images either.
Just when she thought she could finally pull away, Chief O’Hara burst into the scene. A few more words were exchanged. Although Batgirl could not make them out they seemed confrontational. Catwoman stood up and said something to both of them and in no time O’Hara’s pants were at his ankles as well and Catwoman was working on his shorts as well. When she pulled them down Batgirl was amazed at the size of his dick. It looked 12 or 13 inches in size and it was fully limp. Even Catwoman registered surprise at his girth.
Nevertheless, Catwoman took him in as well and soon there she was in Batgirl’s costume kneeling between O’Hara and her father alternating sucking one and jerking off the other and vice versa. For the first time she realized her father was average sized but looked dwarfed next to his second in command. Oh God how could she even think of a thing like her father’s size, she begged Catwoman to stop the tape.
“Why should I, can’t you just close your eyes. Besides here comes the good part.” Then Batgirl watched as Catwoman pulled them by their dicks closer together. She put their glistening rockets against each other and put them both in her mouth at the same time. Batgirl had no idea how she could accommodate two cocks in her mouth simultaneously but sure enough she continued to suck on them both. Finally, she must have had enough because she took her mouth off them and proceeded to furiously jerk them off until each of them came on her and each other. The shot faded with a smiling image of Batgirl content with the semen of two men dripping down her cowl and cheeks.
“Well, Batgirl, what do you think?”
“I think the tape and you are sick. What kind of perverse pleasure do you derive from doing such a thing?” Batgirl demanded.
“I guess I always wanted to show my appreciation for law enforcement,” Catwoman joked. “No, the reason I staged this encounter was not for my benefit but for the public’s. I think they have a right to know how the highest levels of the crime fighting force are spending their time instead of using tax dollars to prevent lawbreakers. When the public sees Batgirl sucking off Gotham’s finest heads should roll.”
“It won’t work, Catwoman. The public isn’t that gullible.”
“You think so? I tend to think if it’s on TV people assume it’s real. Besides, let us not debate it. I plan to show this tape as an intro to the unmasking of Batgirl and Batman. Then we will let the public decide what to do with you scoundrels. By the way, Batgirl, what do you think the Commissioner will do when I reveal your identity and he suddenly realizes who sucked him off?”
The horror hit Batgirl with atomic force. If her father thought that he had an improper encounter with his own daughter he wouldn’t wait to resign, he would put a bullet through his head. Batgirl had to prevent that tape from showing. She assessed her circumstances. The door from the cage had no yet been locked again. Other than her panties, she was only attired from the waist up. Her utility belt was out of reach. Catwoman did not have on her claws and had her back to her. No other henchmen were in sight. It was now or never.
Batgirl burst out of the cage and tackled Catwoman from behind. She was determined to keep the fighting close knowing that it would neutralize Catwoman’s superior hand speed. The momentum of the attack carried them through a few rolls together. Batgirl felt confident that she could contain her and subdue her with wrestling. She maintained the controlling position for some time as Catwoman spun trying to wiggle free. She screamed for Ramon. He came running in, camera in hand.
“Ramon, film this. Let’s give Gotham a real show tonight.”
“Gee, Catwoman, isn’t it interesting that you and Selina have the same cameraman,” Batgirl grunted as she kept her arms wrapped around her foe, “maybe I’m not the only one with an identity crisis.”
“Keep your mind on fighting and maybe I’ll let you live, bitch.” Catwoman then found her opening and twisted out of Batgirl’s hold and managed to work her way behind her back gaining control. She was prone with Batgirl on top of her but she held both of the Girl Wonder’s arms behind her back with one arm while still keeping the other arm free. Panting, she continued, “Good evening Gotham, tonight, as promised, I will reveal the true identities of Gotham’s alleged crime fighters Batman and Batgirl. Not only will I expose their identities but also I will demonstrate their depravity and unworthiness to serve you. First, as you can see, I have Batgirl on hold.”
Batgirl’s was at a disadvantage. Although technically on top of Catwoman, she wasn’t facing her and having her arms locked behind her back did not allow her to maneuver well. Plus, she was now conscious that she was being filmed fighting while wearing her Batgirl top and panties. She tried not to let her embarrassment affect her efforts.
“Citizens,” Catwoman began, “as a woman I have always had a tell tale way to determine if another woman’s hair color was real or not. Top must equal bottom. Simple enough. Let’s see if our friend Batgirl passes that test.” With her free hand she reached for the front of Batgirl’s panties. It was not within easy range but she managed to pull the material to one side. Looking down, she could not see the familiar patch of brown. She let go the material. She did not have the leverage to force down Batgirl’s panties so she tried pushing the cotton front to the other side. Again it was bare.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Catwoman,” Batgirl said while looking back over her shoulder, “a girl has a right to change her appearance-anywhere on her body.”

Batman had just entered the soundstage. He moved about cautiously listening for sounds of nefarious activity. Earlier that day he was reviewing some of the digitized security footage of the Batcave when he came across his former maid lurking about. At first he wondered if that was the reason for her unexpected leaving. Then thinking of Barbara’s frantic calls he thought of the reporter she mentioned. Never seeing the news footage of Selina, he secured access to the television stations personnel files and immediately realized that a reporter had duped him. After more careful consideration he pieced together that the initials of the name used by Selina Calle while under his employ spelled out GATO which is Spanish for “cat”. Knowing that Barbara was a friend of Selina he immediately feared for her safety and began tracing her path.
All appeared quiet but that did not give him comfort. He then remembered that when he and Barbara had sex in her apartment he placed a tracking device on one of her capes as she was showing him her secret closet. He flicked on the transmitter and concluded that she was below. He took off for the staircase. Leaping down the steps four or five at a time, he blasted through the double doors to the area below the stage. He was ready to take on twenty men if needed.
To his surprise waiting on guard for him were not the usual goons but a collection of nubile nymphs. There seemed to be one of every kind: blonde, Black, red head, brunette, and Asian. “Out of my way ladies,” Batman cautioned, “I do not want to hurt any of you and I am here for serious business.”
“Yes Batman we know and we are here for serious business, too,” the red head offered. “As a matter of fact, we were waiting for you to help us.”
“Help you what ma’am?” he inquired testily.
She moved closer. “Help us get off!” and she pushed him in the chest. Normally, the force of her push would not have been enough but he had let his guard down and one of the women had managed to work her way behind him and get on all fours behind him. The oldest trick was so unexpected that he fell back hard and his head snapped back on the pavement. It temporarily stunned him and his pause was all the time the women needed. Two immediately grabbed the shorts over his tights and pulled them down to his calves. His tights quickly followed and by the time he came to, the red head and Black woman were already sucking his dick and balls. The blonde and brunette were removing his gloves and erotically sucking his fingers. He shook his head to clear his thoughts but the testosterone had begun its journey and he lay beholden to the pleasure swelling in his lap. Any thoughts he had about throwing them off were dashed when the Asian girl lifted her school short skirt lowered herself onto his mouth.
It was too much for him to resist. He was undergoing sexual sensory distraction. Having two women work his cock made for non-stop bliss and the blonde and brunette were now taking his fingers and inserting them into their soaked pussies. The clincher was the Asian cunninglingus. Her pubic hair was naturally sparse and soft as satin. Her taste was delightful and he expertly worked his tongue in and around her vagina. Her skirt covered his eyes heightening each sensation monopolizing his body.
Batman’s dick was now inflated to its full size. The Black kitten sucked his purple top and the red head nibbled on his shaft while occasionally moving down to take in one of his balls into his mouth. His thoughts moved to the women in his hands and he tried to find each of their clitorises to apply his patented tickle technique. They moaned in pleasure. He wanted them to be as much of the experience as the others.
He continued to be mesmerized by the young Asian girl thrusting her pussy into his face. He did not have to raise his head as she was directly on top of him virtually holding him in place. He tried driving his tongue up as far as it would reach and moving it around inside for complete coverage. Her timid moans turned him on even more. He felt a climax coursing though him when all of the sudden they stopped and shifted positions. Without time to react another pussy was planted firmly on his face and another mouth was taking him in. His hands again were occupied. It took Batman a second to figure out who was where. He knew the red head was definitely sitting on his face, as his vision was no longer obstructed. Her vagina was similar to Barbara’s in size. He imagined that before he knew her secret this would have been what Batgirl’s pussy would have been like had it been red. He realized that one of the girls instead of sucking his dick was removing his boots and tights. He was now naked from the waist down.
The orgy continued for another half-hour and Batman was ready to come. The red head had turned around and now he was sucking her asshole. The Asian and Black girls had his hands up their vaginas. If he made a fist he never would have been able to remove his hands again. The blonde was riding his dick and the brunette had somehow worked her way under his pelvis and was tonguing his ass. He wasn’t sure which one he wanted to plant his seed inside of but they made it easy for him by gathering at his dick to all receive his lustful explosion. He came in amounts never known to him before and managed to share a burst with each of them. They all giggled as they lapped up his Bat-cum and he lay there totally spent and unable to move.

Catwoman was frustrated but no where near defeated. She still enjoyed the preferred position. “Well, Gothamites, it’s time to for the main event. It would be too easy for me and so undramatic just to have me simply unmask Batgirl. Let’s see if we can convince her to do it herself. Maybe a little sexual encouragement would help. You know citizens this young slut is a dynamo.”
“Let go of me, Catwoman, Batman will be here any minute.”
“Once again you are wrong my dear, he is here already and has been here for almost an hour-look at the monitor.”
Batgirl looked up and saw the half-naked crime fighter smiling dumbly as a bevy of women continued to kiss and play with him. He couldn’t do it again yet but was too weak to fight them off. Batgirl’s reaction was concern and a bit of jealousy.
“Now let’s see if we can get you in the same mood as your superhero friend.”
Catwoman clutched the patch of material covering Batgirl’s mons and bunched it together. She then pulled up making the string back and remaining fabric slide up between Batgirl’s labia. The higher she pulled the more it burrowed deeper into her vagina. Her lips slowly began to yawn open as the cotton string rubbed back and forth against her clitoris. Batgirl tried not to acknowledge the increasing pleasure but a moan escaped betraying her resistance. Catwoman jumped on the opportunity by increasing the tempo of the stimulation. “C’mon, Batgirl, let it out. It will be better for you this way. Give in to your delight.”
Sensuous groans were all that Batgirl could manage. How did Catwoman do it? Her powers of excitement were hypnotic. She felt her will power weakening. She exhaled a soft “yes”.
“Yes what, Batgirl? Yes what?” This chick was easy thought Catwoman. “Are you ready to take off your mask for the audience?”
“Whatever you say,” Batgirl wailed, “please don’t stop.” Ramon, still uncomfortable with the way things were unfolding, moved his focus from her excitement to her head.

On the other side of the room Batman still lay on his back. His cowl had been removed and each girl took turns having her way with him. As an added touch whenever one would mount him they would put his cowl on over their head and tell him what they wanted. It started with the brunette as she sat on his face and demanded that he lick her. She was followed by the Black woman who restored his erection and mounted him. Reaching behind her back she reached below and caressed his balls as she moved rhythmically on him. Batman could hardly withstand the sensation. Yet he couldn’t yet come again. Still his size and hardness was enough to get her off. She passed the cowl on to her Asian friend who decided to try to see how much of her mouth she could get over Batman’s cock. She knew she couldn’t handle much of it but she relished tasting her friend on his member.
Batman’s train of thought was jellied and seeing his mask over his own dick was hallucinogenical. She did not suck him off long and soon passed the mask on to the red head. She placed it on and straddled Batman’s waist above his erection. She pushed up his tunic and moved her tongue up his ribbed abdomen working her way up to his powerful chest. She inched up more and cupped her breasts in her hands. She bent down and offered them to Batman. He dutifully started licking and sucking her tits. Her nipples responded with rock hard firmness. Feeling aroused she continued to crawl up to receive another dose of his masterful tongue work. Flailing her pelvis kept knocking his head back to floor every time he tried to raise it. Finally, she exploded on his face.
Now as exhausted as Batman she lifted the cowl off her head and handed it to the blonde. The blonde carefully placed it on her head and let her long hair flow out the back resembling a cape. Naked, she stood over Batman and bent over to lift up his arms. She pulled forcing him to rise to his knees. She then got on all fours sucked his shaft down to its base, and turned around offering her backside to him. He grabbed his dick and tried to guide it into her sweaty pussy. She shook her head and guided his cock to her anus. She carefully inserted the head and swayed back with her hips to take him in deeper. Instinctively, he began pumping and she rocked in sync. In little time he shot his remaining load up her chute and collapsed backwards. He was so exhausted he wanted to die. He couldn’t believe it. Sex was going to kill him.

Catwoman released the hold of Batgirl’s arms to allow her to unmask. Batgirl stretched her arms as a reflex from being withheld. She sat up and moved her hands up to her head. Catwoman leaned closer and whispered, “Do it.”
Batgirl nodded and Catwoman moved back with her broadest Cheshire ever. With her hands still on her head Batgirl rolled back far and wrapped her legs around Catwoman’s back. Thrusting her legs forward she flipped Catwoman in front of her. Stunned she could not turn around quick enough to block Batgirl’s blow to the back of her head. She slumped forward. Batgirl pushed her back and unzipped the front of her costume all the way down past the midpoint and back up to her shapely ass.
With Catwoman still on her back, Batgirl lifted one of the villainess’ legs. She placed her hand over the villain’s black and bushy love-triangle and used her thumb to separate her labia and begin manipulating the feline’s clitoris. The mounting arousal helped Catwoman regain her consciousness and she looked quizzically at Caped Crusader. Batgirl said nothing but thrust her pelvis into Catwoman’s vagina. Before Catwoman could ask any questions Batgirl began pumping again each time more forcefully. Soon the stimulation of Batgirl’s vagina directly on her clitoris became too much for Catwoman. She began whimpering in pleasure begging Batgirl not to stop. The Night Maiden continued her sexual offensive trying to contain her own pleasure from the lesbian fuckfest.
“It seems the tables are turned a bit, wouldn’t you say Catwoman?” Act controlling and you will control the situation she thought.
“Oooh, it feels sooo goood. Prrrrrrrr.”
“Why don’t you tell our viewers who you really are, Catwoman?” Batgirl demanded.
“What?” Catwoman asked with a weak defiance.
Batgirl thrust twice hitting her target each time. “Give the audience an accurate report of who is responsible for Gotham’s crime wave. Tell them who you are hiding behind your mask.” Batgirl drove her hips into Catwoman again. It put Catwoman over the edge.
“I’m Selina Calle. I am Catwoman. Oooooooh!” She was now lost in her orgasm.
When she calmed down Batgirl helped her sit up. She placed her hands on the side of Catwoman’s head and carefully lifted of her head mask. She dropped the mask and cupped the raven beauty’s face in her hands and looked directly into her adversary’s eyes with hurt and inquisition. “Why Selina?”
“You don’t know. You’ll never know,” Selina began with tears welling in her eyes. “You were born into the good life. You never had to struggle. You had the advantage of a plan given to you. Everything I have I earned. I acquired from nothing, scraps.”
“What are you talking about? I was not born with wealth. I had to work, too.” Batgirl felt defensive.
“Trust me, it’s not the same. You have never been hungry. You have never been ashamed to be yourself, to acknowledge your heritage. I wanted to show them. I needed to show them.”
Batgirl shook her head. She exhaled and stood up. She walked to over to Ramon and said, “I need that tape.”
He slowly took the camera off his shoulder and asked, “what are you going to do with her?”
“I don’t know, I just don’t know.”
She took the tape and walked slowly back to the cage. She pulled up her tights and stepped into her boots. Walking lethargically over to Batman she noticed her utility belt on the floor and stopped to place it back on. When she reached Batman she saw the five nymphs cowering together.
“Who has his mask?”
A hand extended with it. She grabbed it from the anonymous hand and stood over the pathetic state Batman was in. His face and pubic hair was caked with his and their cum. She wasn’t sure what to do first.

Batman’s clarity eventually returned. He dressed and he and Batgirl huddled into a corner to decide what to do. Batgirl explained that everything that transpired was recorded but had not yet been broadcast. They could contain the damage.
Given all that had occurred they did not feel comfortable hauling them all into prison. There would be too many things to explain or suppress. Batman recommended a memory loss spray that would work on the girls or any of the others that recently discovered their identities. However, if he used it they definitely could not take them in because they would have no recollection of their misdeeds either. However, the spray would not work on Catwoman. Her memory stretched too far back for the spray to be effective. He recommended holding her in the Batcave until he could develop something stronger.
Batgirl changed the subject. “Batman, I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed to have quite a time with all those women. If you want to continue to sleep with me you better know that it will have to be on an exclusive basis.”
“Of course, I succumbed in this situation under great duress,” he offered apologetically. “Trust me, it is just you and me. I wouldn’t have it any other way”

A week later Gotham City had forgotten about the rising star television reporter who mysteriously disappeared. At Batman’s suggestion the Caped Crusaders both took a week off from the streets to recover. Barbara went back to the library and various charity events. She wanted to go out with Bruce right away and begin to develop their relationship. He assured Barbara they would indeed be an item but he wanted to stay low key and work in his lab on Catwoman’s de-programming. She agreed not to push it but reminded him of her conditions for continued intimacy with him. He vowed to be good.
Finally, Barbara felt she had waited long enough and called Bruce at home for an update. Alfred answered. “I believe he is below Miss Gordon, would you like for me to check on him?”
“Please Alfred, I’ll hold.”
Alfred took his secret elevator down to the bowels of the Manor. He heard peculiar noises for the Batcave and turned the corner to see what the raucous was. There was Catwoman strapped spread eagle on a table with Batman pumping away into her. They both were in costume but not wearing masks. Without saying a word Alfred turned around and headed back up the elevator.
“Miss Gordon, he is still working on her.”

The End