Part 1 - The Birth of Coach
As ever, Maggie Napier Muckridge was keeping her passion in check.
A fortuneteller once warned her that dire consequences would result if she ever achieved orgasm. While she may have been inclined to take the risk, given the track record of psychics she had visited over the years, her family history told her it was best not to take a chance.
Her second cousin, Jack Napier, had already ruined the family name when he transformed into the Joker and subjected Gotham City to numerous reigns of terror. And the other side of the family had Lex Luthor, Superman’s greatest nemesis, in its family tree. Having dated Edward Nigma (before he donned green tights to become The Riddler) while in college, she knew the risks of entering a life of crime. While she still kept Ed’s phone number in her Rolodex (as well as a warm place for him in her heart), she decided to stay out of trouble by adopting a different life for herself, as gym instructor at The Bruce Wayne School for Wayward Girls.
While she had first taken the job to avoid the temptation of Man, she had to admit the two sweaty bodies in front of her were generating some heat in her loins. Grace Graywater and Sylvia Pershop had both entered the girl’s reformatory at the age of 18 after brief stints as Catwoman’s henchwomen-in-training. That experience had given them a taste of the wild life, as well as experience being dragged to prison bound in Batrope. Maggie’s job was to take the girl’s energy and channel it into more productive ends.
At the moment, Grace and Sylvia were finishing a second round of 50 push-ups. Dressed in tight athletic briefs and sports bras, their lithe figures glistened with sweat as they completed their rigorous training regime under “Coach’s” watchful eye.
“Not bad,” hollered Coach Muckridge as the two girls completed their hundredth push up. “But I did not see the same enthusiasm on that last round as I did in the first. So, fifty more!”
The girls groaned, but knew the consequence of not following the orders of “Coach.” Every part of both women hated Maggie with a passion. But given their present situation, they had little choice but to obey orders. Down went their sweaty, scantily clad bodies for another excruciating round of exercise.
When it came time to take a break, Maggie dismissed her two charges and went to her office to finish up some paperwork and make some last-minute phone calls. As they massaged their aching muscles, Sylvia turned to Grace to continue the usual tirade that accompanied their regular exercise program. “I thought Catwoman ran a tough outfit, but that bitch is going to kill us!” she exclaimed. Grace, familiar with Sylvia’s complaints concurred. “Someone is going to teach that steroid-reject a lesson someday.”
The two women complained to each other some more, and as they did an evil plan emerged.
“How much trouble can we get into?” inquired Grace. “After all, we’re already behind bars.”
“Low security bars, Grace,” replied Sylvia. “If we screw up here, we could end up in a real prison again.”
“They don’t throw people into prison for practical jokes,” retorted Grace. “And besides, three quarters of the staff and the entire prison population will thank us if we put that stiff in her place.”
After a little more cajoling, Sylvia signed on. It would be fun to teach their “Coach” who was boss. And Grace was right. How much could they be penalized for simply giving their nemesis a well-deserved round of role reversal? The two girls entered the gym and laid the groundwork for their scheme.
A short while later…
Maggie finished her phone calls and was preparing to leave for the day when Sylvia and Grace showed up at her office door.
“Ms. Muckridge,” said Grace, “the trampoline is broke.”
“The trampoline is broken,” Maggie corrected, “and can this wait until tomorrow?”
“We want to come in early tomorrow,” replied Sylvia. “Can you help us fix it now?”
Maggie sighed and nodded in acceptance. Better a few minutes tonight than having to come in early in the morning.
The three women entered the gym where Maggie immediately noticed that the trampoline’s canvas, normally held to a metal frame place by numerous metal springs, now only had four such springs holding the material to the corners of the metal skeleton.
“It looks like someone’s been screwing around with this again,” Maggie noted. It had not been the first time someone had cannibalized gym equipment to make home-made weapons with the gym property. She was usually careful about inventorying the gym’s equipment, but obviously someone had snuck in and made off with the other springs.
Maggie looked under the trampoline and noticed that one of the missing springs was resting below the canvas. “It looks like we’ve got evidence of whoever tampered with this thing,” she told her charges. “Once I have that spring fingerprinted, someone is going to be in big trouble.”
Maggie made her way under the large trampoline in order to retrieve the spring. As she reached the middle of the canvas, she thought she heard the sound of metal clanging against metal. She ignored it and continued her task, when suddenly the canvas above her head suddenly descended and covered her from head to toe.
Sylvia and Grace had waited until just the moment when their coach had centered herself under the trampoline to undo the four remaining springs holding the canvas to the frame. In a quick motion, worthy of their days as Sex Kittens, they dropped the canvas over their nemesis and began to wrap her in the heavy material.
“What are you doing?” Maggie screamed. “Let me out of this!”
The two bad girls ignored her pleas, and instead pulled the canvas tightly around their Coach’s body, leaving the gym teacher unable to move. Grabbing fistfuls of rope they had secreted earlier, they began to tie their teacher into the canvas trap, binding her arms to her body and leaving her helplessly immobilized.
The girls laughed as they wrapped Maggie in more and more canvas and rope. When they finished tying her off at the waist, they took a few moments to pierce a small slit in the canvas just where the material would cover Maggie’s crotch once they finished binding her legs and feet. Once the small hole was in place, they proceeded to tie their teacher’s legs together, wrapping her from head to toe in heavy canvas and line.
The girls stepped back to survey their handiwork. Their tormentor was now their captive, with heavy cloth and heavy rope binding her in place from her shoulders to her ankles. Her head was protruded from her canvas cocoon in order for her to breath, but otherwise every square inch of her body was helplessly bound and immobile.
“Are you two crazy?” Maggie exclaimed. “Do you know how much trouble this will get you into?”
The two girls just laughed and danced around their captive. “Oh shut up,” said Sylvia as she proceeded to wrap a cloth gag around their prisoner, silencing her complaints.
“We may be crazy,” rejoined Sylvia, “but we’re not the one struggling in ropes.”
Together, the two young beauties approached the bound Maggie and readied to deliver the coup de grace. Picking up the metal spring that Coach had been trying to retrieve, they carefully inserted it into the slit they had previously cut in the canvas. With Maggie bound as tightly she was now, the metal formed a perfect fit against the helpless gym teacher’s groin.
“You two have fun,” Grace said to the bound teacher and her new-found metallic friend. And with that, two practical jokers turned and walked back to the locker room, leaving their captive to wallow in her helplessness and passion.
For Maggie, this was too much to handle. It took enough energy to keep her passion in check with so many lightly dressed, nubile girls around her all day long. But now she was tightly bound and immobile, a situation that always left her aroused. And with the metal spring rubbing against her crotch as she struggled in the trampoline material and rope, she could feel the sexual energy rising with each squirm and turn she took in order to escape.
“Mmmpphhh, Arghhh,” Maggie cursed as she struggled to free herself from her canvas cocoon. As she squirmed, the passion in her rose, but she came no closer to freedom.
Finally, the tightness of her binding and the constant caressing from the metal spring became too much. She let herself succumb to her passion, let that fortuneteller be damned. The orgasm started slowly, then built to an almost mind-numbing crescendo. And as it did, every evil, erotic thought she had been suppressing for years came to the surface.
First, images of her captors bound and tormented in a variety of traps and contraptions paraded through her mind. This soon made way to visions of an army of women athletes tied and bent to her will. Gymnasts bound tightly in ribbon, female hockey players whose jerseys were turned into straightjackets, runners bound with miles and miles of shoelaces, these and countless other fantasies of nubile, female athletes in captivity filled every corner of her brain. Finally, and inevitably, the flow of images became too much, and Maggie’s sexual frenzy exploded into the pent-up orgasm that she been avoided her entire life.
“Ayeeeeee!!!!” she screamed as she climaxed. Maggie’s sexual explosion was fueled by a rush of adrenaline to her perfectly trained muscles, muscles that flexed and pulled, and started to shatter the rope and canvas that bound her.
When Maggie recovered from her climax, she found that she was no longer bound. In the detonation of her long-denied sex, she had reduced the material which bound her to shreds. Once freed, however, she found that another change had taken place. She was no longer Maggie Muckridge. From now on, she was simply Coach.
Part 2 - Hired Help
Grace and Sylvia were supremely pleased with themselves as they continued the long shower that followed the capture of their teacher.
“Did you see her face when I gagged her,” squealed Sylvia. “I thought her head was going to explode.”
“From the sounds of the screaming we’ve been hearing, it’s possible that it did,” replied Grace as the two reform school gals burst into laughter.
Just as Grace and Sylvia turned off the water and prepared to leave the shower, the lights went out, plunging the shower stall area into complete darkness.
“What the fu…,” said Grace, stumbling around to find the exit or a light switch.
In their meandering in the pitch blackness, both Grace and Sylvia thought they heard a rustling in the shower stalls, as though another person was in their with them. Given their disorientation, they had no time to figure out the source of the noises, as they were too busy trying not to crash into a wall, or each other.
“Ooo,” said Sylvia as she found herself bumping into Grace’s naked body. Each girl grabbed around the waist of the other girl in order to avoid falling over. As they regained their balance, they both heard a sequence of four audible clicks. It was only after that sound subsided that they realized they could not move their arms.
Someone had slapped handcuffs around each girl’s wrists, just as they had reached around the other naked girl. The effect was as if someone had ordered them to hug each other, then bound their hands in place. As they struggled to see if they could loosen their arms, another set of clicks came from the floor. Trying to move their feet, they realized that someone had slapped another set of cuffs around their ankles, diagonally cuffing the girl’s left ankles together with one set of shackles, and cuffing their right ankles together with another.
The lights went on and the two girls could size up their predicament. Their orientation of arms and locked wrists meant they could not even see their cuffed wrists, much less reach them to pick locks. And their chained ankles prevented them from moving more than an inch in any direction.
“You’ve not been doing your sit ups,” cried Maggie Muckridge as she walked up to the two prisoners she had just subdued in the dark.
“Ms. Muckridge!” both bound girls cried in unison.
“She’s not around anymore,” cried the former Maggie Muckridge. “From now on, you can call me ‘Coach.’”
With that, Coach hoisted the two chained women over her powerful shoulder and carried them into her office, laying them carefully on the ground. “Wait right here,” she told her captives. “I’ll get something for those sore ankles.”
As Grace and Sylvia rolled on the ground in a pointless struggle to get free, they realized that their practical joke had been a serious, serious mistake. Far from teaching their former teacher who was boss, they had driven her over the edge. And now they were only beginning to learn the consequences of their action.
Coach returned with a huge cardboard box full of athletic tape which she poured on the ground in a pile. She took one roll and proceeded to wind a heavy strip around the two girl’s four knees. After several turns of tape, she wound the roll down towards the girl’s ankles. Once their legs were secure, she removed the ankle cuffs and finished wrapping all four calves and feet in a heavy layer of tape.
Having no shortage of tape, Coach continued wrapping her two prisoners above the knee, mummifying their lower bodies in layer after layer of athletic tape. With their lower halves secured, she took a moment to replace their handcuff binding with tight wraps of tape that secured their wrists together and tapped those bound wrists into the small of the back of the other girl. With tape now sculpting their bodies into a streamlined statue, she proceeded to meticulously wrap the two girls from waists to shoulders in a heavy layer of tape binding.
It took close to 45 minutes to complete her work, but the attention to detail was well worth it. Lying before her, bodies strapped together by hundreds of feet of athletic tape, the two former mischief makers resembled nothing so much as a two headed caterpillar, with both heads facing in towards each other. The last winds of tape had been used to cover the girl’s mouths which were now silenced with tape gags, leaving them helpless to do anything other than mew and roll around on the floor.
Sylvia and Grace were mortified. Not only had their little plan backfired, but they were now at the mercy of this deranged gym teacher who had clearly gone around the bend. They struggled uselessly in the heavy tape cocoon that bound the two of them together, knowing that their fate was in someone else’s hands.
Coach surveyed her handiwork, both to ensure her captives were secure and to enjoy the show of watching two naked, bound beauties struggling in unison. Once she had seen enough, she made her way to the phone on her desk and placed a call to someone she had not talked to in many, many years.
“Hello Edward,” she said as the phone call was connected through a series of phantom switches to a hidden location in Gotham.
“That’s Riddler,” said the other voice on the phone, “and who’s calling.”
“It’s Maggie Muckridge,” said Maggie, but I’ve just had a life-changing experience. So now you can call me “Coach.”
“Decided to get into the game, have you Maggie?” asked the Riddler. “I mean ‘Coach.’”
“I have, and I need a little bit of help," she replied. “Just what was the name of that store where you used to purchase all of your fiendish devices?”
Grace and Sylvia watched as Coach began taking down notes from her phone conversation.
“Fiendish Devices R Us,” the former Maggie Muckridge noted. “Oh, and you say they have some specials going on? What’s on sale? You don’t say! I can certainly use some of those. Oh, they can come in handy.”
Catching only half the phone conversation, Grace and Sylvia were not privy to the details being discussed, although they did realize the weight of one question they overheard.
“Oh, and Edward," she asked. "Do they still sell those brainwashing devices you used to use?”
Part 3 - Duel at Dawn
Diana Prince was glad to have been sent to a convention in Gotham City. Her activities for the IADC and crime-fighting duties as Wonder Woman usually kept her visiting underserved high-crime areas, but the success of the Dynamic Trio in Gotham meant she rarely visited the city for reasons other than IADC business.
As ever, Diana gave her friend Barbara Gordon a call before coming into town. The two heroines had known each other’s identity for quite some time, and Diana’s calls to Babs usually were met with an invitation to some kind of activity that would put her skills to the test. Barbara, as a crime-fighter with strength and a keen mind, but no unnatural powers, frequently tried to put her skills to the test with more powerful opponents such as Wonder Woman or Supergirl. In other friendly contests between Diana and Barbara, it was always Batgirl who ended up the loser. Secretly, Diana hoped that today would be an exception, knowing full well Batgirl’s penchant for putting her opponents into the most stringent of binds.
Following Barbara’s directions, Diana showed up at Ralph Harris’ Paintball Firing Range, a five acre wooded area in a far corner of Gotham, at a quarter of six in the morning. Apparently, the Paintball range was only open in the summers, something Diana realized as she scanned the heavy lock on the door as Barbara pulled up in her Volvo.
The two women embraced and exchanged friendly greetings. “Glad you could come,” said Barbara as she nonchallantly picked the lock on the door in seconds flat. “Let’s go!” she called mischievously.
Diana only shrugged at her friend’s innocent attitudes towards breaking and entering. Diana had been raised a goodie-two-shoes who avoided jay walking when chasing terrorists through the streets of New York. Babs, on the other hand, had decided that the dozens of times she had saved Gotham City from destructions gave her liberty to bend the law in certain circumstances, something Diana had long ago learned to shrug off.
“So, what are we doing here?” Diana asked her friend.
“I thought we could engage in a little wilderness combat, to see who is the better jungle girl,” Babs replied with a snicker. “Come on, we can change in that building over there. Then, I’d like to see who does best in a dawn dual to the death!”
Diana rolled her eyes and followed her friend to a building that apparently had dressing rooms (no doubt for the overweight businessmen and lawyers who frequented the paint-ball range to change into ill-fitting combat fatigues). The room contained a series of benches, lockers and full-length mirrors. Following her friend’s lead, Diana chose a locker and began to change into her Wonder Woman outfit as Barbara changed into her trademark purple Batgirl duds.
“You’re looking great Diana,” said Barbara as Diana fit herself into her familiar star-spangled one-piece. “Did you lose some weight?”
Having spent so much time slobbered over by the world’s most powerful men and women, Diana enjoyed being treated like a pajama party pal by Batgirl. No doubt, this was on the reasons she so much enjoyed their time together.
“You think so?” Diana replied.
“Oh yes,” said Batgirl. “Look at yourself in this three way mirror,” she said, gesturing towards the mirror on another side of the dressing room.
Diana took a moment away from changing, sauntered over to the mirror and proceeded to vogue for a few minutes. “The beauty of Aphrodite,” she thought to herself before returning to her locker, donning her boots and fixing her magic lasso to her belt.
“OK, Babs,” asked the now transformed Diana Prince, a.k.a. Wonder Woman. “What’s the battle plan?”
Barbara reached into her locker and handed Wonder Woman a firearm that resembled a fat rifle.
“Take this,” Batgirl told her friend.
Wonder Woman recoiled. Having spent her life bouncing bullets off her bracelets, she always had an aversion to any kind of gun.
“Relax,” said Batgirl. “It’s a paintball gun. See,” she said as she fired the gun at an empty wall. The gun fired a round projectile that splattered against the wall, leaving a purple mark.
“It just fires wash-off paint,” Batgirl said, handing Wonder Woman the weapon again. “Now you take yours, and I have mind,” she said as she shouldered a similar weapon. “There are five acres of jungle out there. Give me a five-minute head start, and then let the hunt begin.”
“And how do we decide who wins?” asked Wonder Woman.
“You know, Diana,” replied Batgirl, “that’s usually not been a problem with our little contests.”
Diana smiled, remembering how their two previous tournaments had ended with Barbara tied hand and foot and at the mercy of Wonder Woman’s super-powered spanking hand. Not that the bratty heroine had deserved any less.
“Very well, jungle goddess,” said Wonder Woman. “Let the games begin!”
Batgirl darted out the door, as Wonder Woman got used to handling the weapons she had been given. Truth be told, she much more trusted her soft, golden lasso than this hard metal gun. But no matter, a challenge was a challenge.
After five minutes, Wonder Woman set off into the jungle in pursuit of her purple prey. After fifteen minutes of searching, her keen senses thought they tuned into the sound of a trig snapping above her head. Suddenly, and without warning, an object flew from the trees and hit Diana squarely in the buttock.
Splat went the paintball as it exploded on Wonder Woman’s behind. Wonder Woman saw Batgirl jumping from tree to tree above her head and opened fire with her own paintball gun. With so little experience in firing weapons of any sort, Wonder Woman’s shots all fell yards off the mark.
Batgirl giggled as she disappeared into the woods. Wonder Woman took off in hot pursuit.
Twice more, Batgirl managed to get the drop on her super-powered colleague from above and from behind various tree trunks. Two more paintball marks stained Wonder Woman’s breasts and belly. Wonder Woman seethed at being bested by this mischievous child.
After so much humiliation, Wonder Woman decided to no longer play nice. As she entered a clearing, her finely tuned senses noticed Batgirl hiding in a tree above. At first, she pretended to aim her gun in precisely the wrong direction. But rather than firing, she instead swung around and hurled the gun into the air where it smashed into the limb on which Batgirl was standing.
Batgirl was caught completely by surprised by Diana’s maneuver. The limb she was standing on shattered, and she found herself sailing towards the ground.
As Batgirl regained her composure and began to get up from her fall, Wonder Woman detached her magic lasso and sent it sailing at the fallen crimefightress. “Enough guns,” Wonder Woman thought to herself. “Time to do this my way.”
The lasso sailed through the air, over the shoulders of Batgirl where it tightened around her arms. As the rope closed around her prey, Wonder Woman sent mental commands via the rope to her captive, ordering Batgirl to surrender immediately.
But rather than give up to her fate, Batgirl instead broke into a strange, evil grin. Instead of submitting, she reached into her utility belt and pulled out what looked like a sharp, steel blade.
“She must be mad!” thought Wonder Woman. “No mortal object could cut my magic lasso.”
As Wonder Woman contemplated Batgirl’s action, her next surprise came when the blade hit the lasso, instantly snapping the golden rope.
Wonder Woman was stunned. How had Batgirl managed to find an object capable of cutting her most powerful weapon! And why had she used such a tool for a practical joke! What was going on!
The answer to some of Wonder Woman’s questions came when the remains of her lasso ricocheted back to her feet. Diana picked up the cut line and noticed that this was not her magic lasso at all, but a regular rope (albeit one of similar weight) that had been painted gold.
“So where was the original?” She thought.
The answer came swiftly as the real magic lasso settled over Wonder Woman’s shoulders. Looking up, she saw Batgirl holding the loose end of the rope, displaying an wicked smile beneath her cowl.
“What! How!” cried Wonder Woman as her own magic rope tightened around her, pinning her arms to her sides.
“Oh, this?” Batgirl asked innocently as she yanked on the magic rope. “I took the liberty of switching lassos with you while you were admiring yourself in the mirror.”
Wonder Woman was mortified. How could a fellow women take advantage of female vanity in that way? “You awful brat,” was the harshest explicative she could manage to muster.
“Now now,” said Batgirl. “All’s fair in love and jungle war. Now, if you don’t mind coming over here.”
Wonder Woman, bound by the lasso was compelled to obey and began walking over to her captor.
“No, stop!” cried Batgirl. Wonder Woman immediately halted. “I think I’d rather you twirl your way over here.”
Under the spell of the lasso, Wonder Woman was forced to obey. Batgirl pulled the rope taught as Wonder Woman started to spin her way over to the point where Batgirl stood. With each twirl, another loop of rope coiled around the helpless heroine. By the time she fell into Batgirl’s arms, Wonder Woman’s body was enwrapped in a dozen tight coils of magic cord from her shoulders to her waist.
Batgirl gave her captive a peck on the cheek as she yanked on the rope to tighten the loops around Wonder Woman’s body and to simultaneously get some more slack from the lasso’s infinitely elastic coils. Having immobilized the Amazon’s upper body, Batgirl proceeded to fish the superheroine’s wrists from her wrapping and pulled them tightly behind her back where she tied them together in a half-dozen loops of magic rope.
Batgirl stood back to survey her work so far. Wonder Woman, under mental command from her captor to stand erect and still, could only glare angrily as Batgirl tugged at the magic rope like a tether and snickered at her friend’s predicament.
“Fair’s fair, Diana,” said Batgirl as she gave her victim a sympathetic look. “After all, you’ve certainly had me in this position more than once.
That was true, thought the helpless heroine. In previous matches, the present roles were reversed with Wonder Woman delivering bondage and a spanking to her present captor. Perhaps the anger she currently felt was at having been bested in a battle of not strength but wits.
“Legs together!” barked Batgirl. Bound as she was by the magic rope, Wonder Woman was compelled to obey as she pulled her feet, knees and thighs tightly together. On cue, Batgirl took the opportunity to break into an insane dance around her victim, adding loop after loop of magic rope to Wonder Woman’s lower half.
Batgirl danced and sang as she immobilized the helpless Amazon in dozens more coils of rope. Once she had wrapped her prey in golden line from hips to ankles, Batgirl moved in closer to tighten the binding and cinch it off with more of the infinitely elastic line.
Wonder Woman could only stand there as her bratty friend turned her into a human totem pole. Unable to break the rope which held her, and mentally commanded to stand still and take her punishment in any regard, Wonder Woman found herself entrapped from her shoulders to her ankles in almost a hundred tight windings of her unbreakable lasso.
Batgirl stood back to survey her handiwork.
“Now don’t go away,” Batgirl said to her immobile friend as she disappeared into the woods.
Batgirl returned with two handguns,
“Now for some target practice.”
Wonder Woman could only wince as Batgirl ran around her, firing paintball after paintball at her bound body. The paint stained her costume and her magic lasso, leaving her a collage of red white and blue costume, golden rope and purple paint.
“I’ll get you for this,” the stained superheroine told her erstwhile friend.
“Then I’d better make sure you don’t get free,” Batgirl replied. “On the ground!”
Wonder Woman did as commanded and dropped to the dirt. Batgirl rolled her tied friend onto her stomach and pulled at the magic lasso to give her a bit more slack with which to lash Diana’s bound wrists to her bound ankles. Once hogtied in the unbreakable rope, Wonder Woman was at last freed from mental submission from the lasso’s magic.
“Struggle all you like, WW,” said Batgirl. “I’ve got to get a few more supplies.”
Wonder Woman broke into a hysterical fit of squiring, trying to free herself from her own mightiest weapon. Had she been tied by someone with less expertise, the star-spangled superheroine might have been able to shake off the ropes enough to begin to free herself. Unfortunately, the Amazon beauty had been tied by the best, a deranged comrade who clearly spent more time studying ropework than was absolutely necessary for pure crime fighting reasons.
Batgirl returned with two objects Diana recognized as a ping pong paddle and a feather duster.
“Those don’t look like standard Bat anti-crime devices to me,” the helpless Wonder Woman told her captor.
“No, but this is,” Batgirl replied as she stuffed a bat gag into the bound heroine’s mouth. “Now shut up and take your medicine.”
The next half hour was a humiliating nightmare for Diana as Barbara proceeded to cycle between paddling her friend’s behind and tickling her feet and exposed flesh with the feather duster. Wonder Woman squirmed furiously to get out of the way of Batgirl’s paddling and tickling attacks, but rolling on her stomach only left her rump vulnerable to paddling, and rolling on her back just exposed her bosom to the feather treatment.
It was not clear at all that Barbara had any intention to stop torturing her bound friend, but fate intervened with a beep from Batgirl’s radio hotline to Commissioner Gordon’s office.
“Yes Commissioner,” Batgirl said into the radio as she sat herself down comfortably on her companion’s rear.
“Batgirl, thank goodness you’re available,” said Commissioner Gordon. Batgirl was always amused by the dimwittedness of her father who had not only failed to recognize his own daughter beneath Batgirl’s cowl, but could not even recognizer her voice over the Bat radio.
“Batman and Robin are out of town,” the Commissioner continued. “And there have been a string of unsolved robberies, all involving sporting events. Three woman have so far knocked off the payroll at the baseball stadium, the football stadium and the golfer’s hall of fame!”
"Gosh, Commissioner," replied Batgirl. "Anything else?"
"Yes," said Gordon. "Just when we thought they had ended their robbery spree, we received a report that they have kidnapped Nadia Fadiniche, the visiting Olympic gymnast. Police cameras showed her being snatched by three women from her hotel gym. Apparently, they wrapped her in her own gymnasts ribbon, dumped her into a canvas bag and were last seen driving off with their prisoner in the trunk of their car."
“I’m on it, Commissioner, said Batgirl. “Over and out.”
Batgirl looked at her hogtied and gagged captive. “I guess you get a reprieve.”
Batgirl loosened Wonder Woman’s bindings, allowing the humiliated heroine to unwrap herself. While the rope was gone, the Amazon was still stained with numerous purple blotches.
“Looks like there’s a new crime wave in town,” said Batgirl. “Care to help me put it to an end?”
Wonder Woman considered first evening the score with her “friend,” but realized that battling evil took precedent.
“Of course,” said Diana, “but I’d best clean up first.”
“No problem,” said Barbara. “The water’s off in the camp, but there’s a new gym up the street that has showers. It should be pretty empty this time of day.”
Wonder Woman and Batgirl agreed to communicate in an hour, after the Amazon had time to wash the paint off her body and egg off her face, and Batgirl had time to check the crime computer in her car to see where the sports-themed thieves might strike next.
Part 4 - Synchronous Captives
Meanwhile…At the nearby gym.
Gotham’s newest sports complex sported two dozen tennis courts, two volleyball courts (tournament and beach), over forty racquetball and squash courts and an Olympic size swimming pool.
At this very early hour, all of the facilities were unused. It was actually before opening hour for the gym, and the only people currently using the equipment were Angelina Carp and Trini Amphibout, Gotham’s Olympic hopefuls.
The two girls’ represented the so-called “sport” of synchronized swimming, the art of performing ballet in the water. Given their expected gold medal performance at the upcoming Olympic Games, the owner of the gym had provided them keys and the ability to use the gym’s pool any time they pleased for practice.
On this particularly morning, the two girls had decided to shun their traditional, conservative, professional swimwear for colorful string bikinis. These outfits both made them look more womanly, and helped them practice their swimming form more carefully, forcing them into subtle maneuvers that would prevent their breasts from popping out of their bikini tops, or stopping their thong bottoms from falling off.
The two bikinied swimmers were the definition of grace, gliding through the water in perfect unison, diving, swirling and pirouetting with the elegance of flying fish.
As the two Olympic hopefuls went through their maneuvers, three athletic women made their way to the swimming area. Two of the girls were identically garbed in black, form fitting bikinis. The third woman, for some reason, seemed to be dressed as a lifeguard in a Baywatch-orange swimsuit, with a white hat and a whistle hung around her neck.
Coach blew her whistle and the Angelina and Trini stopped their water dance and floated in the middle of the pool, trying to figure out who these strange women were.
“I’m sorry girls,” said Coach to the two swimmers, “but no roughhousing in the pool.”
“Do you know who we are?” Trini asked the scolding Coach.
“You know, we have permission to be here,” announced Angelina.
“No backtalk to your Coach!” screamed the evil sports-themed villainess, as she fished something out of a box she had brought with her to the pool area.
“Up yours!” said Trini. “We’ve got practicing to do. So why don’t you just go away.”
“Such impudence,” replied Coach. “And for your bad behavior, it’s out of the pool for you!”
With that, the Coach threw something over the water that looked like a bed sheet. In fact, it was a huge sheet of nylon that expanded to its full length and width as it hovered over the two synchronous swimmers before dropping down over their heads. Apparently, the nylon sheet was edged with dozens of small fishing weights that sank as they hit the water, pulling the material over the swimmer’s bodies, wrapping them from head to toe in wet nylon which instantly stuck to their near-naked bodies.
“What is this?” said Trini as she and Angelina struggled in the thin, strong nylon mesh. Unfortunately for them, the material only became more clingy as it got more waterlogged, pulling the two bikinied swimmers tightly together, back-to-back.
As the two girls struggled in the Coach’s fiendish trap, Grace and Sylvia each picked up a bundled end of a long coil of rope. In perfect unison, the two bikinied henchwoman dove into the water and swam towards the bagged water ballerinas.
Grace and Sylvia swam towards Trini and Angelina, catching them squarely in the middle of the rope they held between them. Swimming a lap around their captives, the Coach’s minions caught the two girls in a tight loop, fastening them tightly back-to-back.
Around and around the henchwoman swam, doing their best to perform a synchronized swimming routine of their own. Under normal circumstances, Trini and Angelina might have been impressed by the two girl’s performance, but in this particular case, every lap Grace and Sylvia made around their captives added another tight loop of rope around their bodies already imprisoned in wet, clingy nylon.
After several minutes of swimming, the Coach’s girls had the two Olympic swimmers bound tightly, with a dozen loops of rope tying them snugly into a nylon bag. The material around their bodies was permeable enough to let air in, allowing the girls to breath. However, movement was now impossible, tied as they were back to back in a dozen coils of soggy rope.
Grace and Sylvia towed their captives towards the shallow end of the pool, where they managed to tie more rope around their prisoner’s nylon enshrouded legs and feet. By the time Coach's goons were done with their water dance, Trini and Angelina were wrapped more tightly than a sausage, and completely at the mercy of the Coach and her athletic servants.
“Well done, my dears,” the Coach complimented her minions. “My collection continues to grow with two more Olympic class bodies!”
Angelina and Trini could only shiver in cold and fear at what these deranged woman had in store for them. Slowly, the bagged, bound, bikinied beauties were dragged from the pool as Sylvia and Grace stood by for further orders.
Coach surveyed her catch as the nylon-wrapped swimmers tried uselessly to wiggle themselves free. Before barking her next commands, Coach’s eyes turned upwards, towards a close circuit TV monitor that was mounted above a nearby lifeguard seat.
The monitor showed someone entering the front of the building, someone also dressed in swimwear.
Upon closer inspection, Coach realized that the colorful outfit the intruder was wearing was no bathing suit, but a star spangled costume.
“Wonder Woman!” screamed Sylvia. “How did she find us?”
“Maybe she didn’t,” answered the Coach. “She seems to be heading towards the women’s lockers. Maybe she does not know we’re here.”
“Should be get out of here,” said Grace. “Leave these two behind?”
“Don’t be idiotic,” screamed Coach. “Bagging these two was no challenge. Now we have a chance to get the drop on a real champion.”
“How can we defeat someone that powerful?” asked Sylvia. “Let’s get out of here!”
Coach gave her panicked minion a slap across her face.
“I have a plan you dimwit,” Coach shouted. “One that gives us a sporting chance.”
Part 5 - Serve!
Wonder Woman made her way through the huge gym towards the women’s locker room. Fortunately, no one seemed to be at the gym at this early hour, a circumstance that gave her the chance to hit the showers and wash off the water-soluble purple paint (not to mention the humiliation) that currently stained her.
“This place is enormous!” thought Wonder Woman as she left the shower room and made her way back through the gym past the tennis and basketball courts, towards the door in which she had originally entered.
As she made her way past a standard volleyball court, she next found herself slogging through sand. Apparently, the gym featured an indoor beach volleyball setup, quite a luxury Wonder Woman noted.
As she walked halfway past the volleyball net, her path was temporarily crossed by a volleyball travelling at high speed. The ball rocketed past her head, missing her by inches. Wonder Woman turned to see where the ball was coming from.
“Hello Dear,” said Coach, poised above what looked like a wide-mouthed cannon. “Catch,” she chortled as the cannon (actually an automatic volleyball server) fired another ball directly at the heroines head.
This ball did not miss its target, hitting Wonder Woman square in the noggin, knocking her senseless. Normally, the ball cannon was aimed upward to simulate a serve coming over the net. But, in this case, the evil Coach had aimed the gun directly at a nearby target at the highest possible setting, sending balls flying towards the stunned Amazon at injurious speed.
Another ball hit Wonder Woman directly in the gut, knocking the wind out of her and pushing her backwards. Volleys of ball after ball continued to batter the freshly-showered heroine, sending her sprawling back towards the volleyball net that was hung across the sandy pit.
The villainess had taken careful aim to corral Wonder Woman to the point where her escape was walled off by the volleyball net behind her. As Wonder Woman backed into the net, the barrage of balls slowed, then ceased. It was at this point that the disoriented heroine realized that the volleyball net was now in front of her, then it was behind her again, then in front again, then behind once more.
It was only when her head cleared that Wonder Woman realized what was going on. The Coach’s henchwomen had detached the net from the posts on which it once hung and were in the process of running around Wonder Woman with the net, wrapping her up in its coils. By the time Wonder Woman realized what was going on, she was too entrapped to change her fate. The entire top half of her body was caught in a half dozen folds of the net, and her two crazed captors showed on signs of running out of net or enthusiasm for binding their victim.
After another half dozen laps around the snared heroine, Wonder Woman was bound from head to toe in mesh. And this net did not come from a household garden volleyball set. It was regulation material: tough and heavy. And regulation length which mean that her tormentors had barely used a third of the material to bind her by the time they got to wrapping Wonder Woman’s feet (the last unbound part of her body). With nowhere else to go, they continued to run around the helpless heroine, adding another layer of net to her bondage as they wrapped from feet to head this time.
As they finished wrapping Wonder Woman in a second layer of volleyball net from toes to head, they immediately continued back down her body, wrapping her in a third and final layer of heavy mesh. By the time they got to her knees, they ran out of net and decided to enjoy their last few minutes of play by tying the net in place using several yards of heavy rope that had once held the net to its moorings.
Wonder Woman, now recovered from her volleyball battering, was stunned at how quickly she had been captured. Her entire body, from the tip of her head to her toes was enwrapped in layer after layer of heavy, unbreakable netting. While she could bend slightly at the waist, all other movement was impossible and even slight bending did nothing more than create a crunching sound in the heavy material that bound her.
Regaining her composure, Wonder Woman tried to flex her mighty muscles in order to see if the net and rope binding her had any give. As she struggled against the net, rope and woman holding her, Coach walked towards her with some kind of cloth in her hand, into which she was emptying the contents of a small bottle.
“You know,” Coach said to the helpless heroine. “That outfit of yours does not provide nearly enough support.”
“Here,” she said as she crushed the cloth she was holding into the bound Wonder Woman’s face. “Let’s see if this helps.”
The cloth she pressed into Wonder Woman’s mouth and nose turned out to be a jock strap that, as far as Wonder Woman could tell, had not been washed very recently.
“Gross!” the heroine yelled as she tried to turn her face away, only to be taken in by a big breath of fumes from the athletic supporter.
As it turned out, those fumes were not those of an uncleaned undergarment, but the stench of chloroform in which Coach had soaked the jockstrap before pressing it into Diana’s face. Succumbing to the fumes, Wonder Woman's’ head began to swim. Coach used that occasion to push the material more tightly into her face where Diana was forced to take in breath full after breath full of the deadening fumes.
It took just a few seconds before Wonder Woman succumbed to unconsciousness, her netted and bound form toppling on the ground like a felled tree.
The three villainesses surveyed their latest captive and gave one another a hearty pat on the back.
“Is the pool still empty?” Coached innocently asked her minions.
Part 6 - Chains of Death
As Wonder Woman awoke from her chemical-induced slumber, she felt a sensation of both weighing a thousand pounds, and of being weightless at the same time.
As the chloroform exited her system, she understood the reason for her conflicting sense of mass. Apparently her captors had used the time of her unconsciousness to wrap the netted and bound heroine with a winding of heavy metal chain. The chain began with a loop around her neck and continued down her body in a series of tight wraps that held her fast in the already tight volleyball net cocoon.
The top of the chain extended above her head where it was attached to some kind of winch. Looking down, Wonder Woman realized that her tied body was suspended over the gym’s swimming pool. Spinning clockwise, she caught sight of her captors who were busy preparing the package they had created earlier: the nylon-wrapped synchronous swimmers, for transport.
“Glad you could join us,” Coach said mockingly to the helpless heroine. “As you can see, we added a little more support to your ensemble.”
Wonder Woman kicked and spun, but made no progress in loosening any of her bonds. “Let me go this instant!” she yelled at the three kidnappers.
“Sorry, but you’ve been sidelined,” the Coach replied. “And pretty soon, you’ll be out of the game forever.”
With that, Coach threw a switch that began a motor on the winch which began to unwind the chain, dropping Diana slowly towards the swimming pool beneath.
“That chain’s made of industrial-strength steel, my Amazon champion," explained Coach. "And once it hits the water, it will drag you to the bottom. If you get the chance, send my apologies to the maintenance staff for making them drain the pool to retrieve your corpse.”
The three women laughed maniacally as they lifted their two bound captives and made their way to the door. “Three down, five to go!” the Coach said as they exited the pool area, leaving Wonder Woman to her watery doom.
Wonder Woman had no time to guess what the villainess meant by her last cryptic remark. Already, her feet had reached the water level of the pool. The heroine realized that within minutes enough chain would have descended into the water to drag her to the bottom.
As her body hit the water, Wonder Woman realized that the yards of net and rope that encircled her body also lent it a small degree of buoyancy. While it could not displace the weight of chain entering the pool as the winch continued to unfurl more links of metal, it seemed as though Wonder Woman would receive a brief reprieve as her bound body began to float on the surface of the pool. This moment gave her one last avenue of escape.
As the chain continued to unwind from above, Wonder Woman began to spin and shake furiously in the water. At first, nothing seem to be happening, but as she broke into ever more violent spasms, the chain around her neck began to loosen and inch its way over the top of her head. A few more spins and the chain popped over the top of her head, and began to unwind around her body.
Free of the unbreakable chain, Wonder Woman only had the volleyball net and waterlogged rope to contend with. With her head fully cleared from her volleyball battering and battle with the chloroform-laden jock strap, she focused all of her will on a single burst of strength. Faced with the overwhelming power of Amazon muscle, the net and rope around her body began to buckle, and finally snap. After several minutes of violent struggle in the water, Wonder Woman managed to free herself from her volleyball net cocoon. Shaking off the last of her binding, she made her way to the edge of the pool and pulled herself onto dry land.
“Nice try,” Wonder Woman thought as she watched the remains of her former binding get dragged to the bottom of the pool.
“Now let’s find out which ‘five’ are ready ‘to go.’”
Part 7 - Off Sides
“Let’s look lively out there,” Tia Prochutto hollered at her teammates, Shelly, Julia, Carrie and Daria. While she was the official leader of the nation’s champion soccer team, she always thought of her companions as partners in their endeavor to enliven women’s sports by defeating every other woman’s soccer team in the world in various World Cup tournaments and, soon, the Olympics.
Today could have been a day to take it easy, as they were just gathered for some morning practice before an exhibition game at Gotham City’s sports complex. But Tia and her teammates took their practice just as seriously as any competitive match, a drive that led them to so many championships over the last several years.
The players continued with their drills, taking shots on goal, dribbling the ball down the field, and practicing distance kicks. It was good to practice so early in the morning, Tia thought. No cameras, no fans, in fact, nobody else awake for nearly half a mile around the remote sports field they had chosen as their anonymous practice spot.
As Tia and her group continued their vigorous workout, a large truck pulled into the parking lot by the side of the field. Disembarking from the truck’s cab, three women - dressed as referees - walked to the back of the truck, opened up the cabin and lowered a regulation soccer net, frame and all, to the ground.
The three refs wheeled the net onto the field, at which point two of the ref-garbed women ran back to the cab of the truck and pulled out a pair of long duffle bags which they holstered over their shoulders. Having retrieved all of the supplies they needed, The Coach, Grace and Sylvia made their way towards the US champion soccer team. The quintet stopped their practice for a moment to see what these three strange women wanted.
“Gather round girls,” Coach said to the soccer champions as they made their way towards Coach and her minions, unaware of the danger they were in.
“Now, I’ve got good news and bad news,” Coach told the soccer team.
“The good news is, you can take the rest of the day off,” she began.
The girls found this odd woman’s pronouncement rather strange. After all, who was she? And why was this stranger trying to dictate their practice schedule?
Just as the soccer champions began to grow suspicious of the women who had interrupted their practice, Grace and Sylvia opened their duffle bags and pulled out a pair of weapons that resembled huge blunderbusses, similar to the home-made shotgun Granny used to use on the Beverly Hillbillies TV series. Each gun’s barrel ended with a wide mouth, like a funnel. And where there might have normally been bullet magazines, these guns held two plastic bottles below and behind the trigger mechanism.
While these weapons were bewildering, they were also very threatening, and Tia and her teammates certainly felt threatened as Grace and Sylvia lifted their guns and pointed them at the five-woman soccer squad.
“The bad news is, you’re being kidnapped,” announced Coach. “Any questions?”
“Who are you?” cried Tia as the other girls let loose with a volley of shouts and screams for help.
“Silence!” said the Coach. “Who asked you to say anything?!”
The girls fell dumb under the watchful eye of Grace and Sylvia’s weapons. The Coach approached Shelly, one of the team members.
“If I recall,” said Coach, “you are fond of taking off your shirt. Do you mind doing it now?”
Shelly recoiled, but had not choice but to follow orders. She removed her soccer jersey to reveal a sports bra bearing a familiar trademark beneath.
“Just as I thought!” cried Coach. “Product placement! Has commercialism destroyed these games or what?”
Sylvia and Grace nodded in agreement, keeping their weapons trained on the now-terrified soccer champs.
“OK. OK. You girls have got to learn your lesson. Off with everything that has a brand name. Now!”
The girls had no choice but to comply. Unfortunately, their wardrobes consisted entirely of jerseys, shorts, bras, shoes and even socks that had been donated by sports manufacturers. By the time they had removed every stitch of clothing that contained a trademark, they were left only in their panties.
The near-naked teammates shivered and tried to cover their exposed breasts with their arms. The three sports-themed villainesses only snickered at their predicament.
“Alright, alright, enough sniveling,” the Coach shouted. "Everyone into the soccer goal.”
Grace and Sylvia corralled the five panty-clad athletes into the soccer net that the three wicked women had pulled from their truck moments earlier. After a few moments, the girls were all huddled together in the back of the net, waiting to see what terrible fate would come next.
Grace and Sylvia joined their boss in front of the net, keeping their guns trained on the soccer team all the while.
“You girls look cold,” shouted Coach.
“We’re freezing,” said Tia as the other girls nodded in agreement.
“Well why on earth are you running around in your skivvies then?” replied Coach. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to dress properly?”
The teammates could only look bewildered at this strange woman who had forced them to be naked and now berated them for their nakedness. As they tried to figure out what would happen next, Coach pulled a remote control out of her pocket.
“You know,” Coach said to Grace and Sylvia, “these girls should really cover themselves up.”
Grace and Sylvia nodded in agreement and as they did, Coach pushed a button on the remote. Immediately, a series of tiny explosions - like machine gun fire - erupted all around the girls in the soccer net. Thinking the villainesses had opened fire on them, the five bare athletes held onto each other in fear.
As it turned out, the explosions were not bullets at all, but the detonation of tiny firecrackers that were connected to strings that held the soccer net to the metal frame in which the girls were standing. Once the connection was broken between the net and the frame, the heavy soccer net crashed down on the huddled soccer champs with a loud FWAPPP, covering all five of them from head to toe.
The soccer net was heavy and strong, with smaller than regulation meshes. Once they realized what had happened, Tia and her team mates tried to struggle their way out of the net. Naked as they were, however, their fingers and toes soon got tangled in the net’s small holes. Had they tried some teamwork to get out of the trap, they might have eventually wiggled their way free. However, in their panic, each soccer player was struggling on her own. Given this uncoordinated effort, it was not long before the girls struggles just ended up entangling them still further in the heavy net’s folds. Within a few minutes of struggling, the inevitable happened and all five girls toppled over in a net enshrouded heap.
The Coach, Grace and Sylvia laughed at their victim’s predicament. Once they were on the ground, Grace and Sylvia positioned themselves on either side of the pile of girl and mesh and aimed their weapons at the helpless captives.
“Ready…,” shouted Coach. “Aim…” Grace and Sylvia put their fingers on their weapon triggers.
“No! Don’t!” shouted Tia and her teammates in fright.
“Fire!” yelled The Coach, ignoring their pleas.
The captives screamed as Grace and Sylvia pulled the trigger on their weapons. Expecting an explosion of gunfire, they were surprised that the weapons these two women held instead unleashed a hissing/whistling sound. It soon became apparent that these were not ordinary guns.
In fact, the cannons Grace and Sylvia held fired a continuous spray of sticky, web-like material that the two henchwomen were now using to seal the soccer team into the net. The soccer player’s relief at not being shot was replaced by panic as they realized that their netted, naked bodies were now being subjected to a heavy coating of sticky web that adhered the net to their bodies and contracted as it dried. If escape was unlikely before the net was welded to their bodies with the sticky spray, now it was impossible.
Grace and Sylvia ran and danced around their captives, looking for more areas of bare net to spray down with the sticky webbing. Knowing that the web would bind their netted victims even more tightly as it contracted, the two girls maneuvered to bind them into the tightest configuration possible. Grace (wearing specially treated gloves that prevented her from sticking to the webbing) put down her weapon and rolled the girls on top of one another, then pulled at the net to reel the girls in more tightly. Sylvia then sealed the new restrictive configuration with another spray of web.
As the two henchwomen turned the champion soccer team into a five-person, inescapable cocoon, The Coach made her way to her truck, quite pleased with the trap she had just sprung. This particular fiendish invention had been suggested to her by her old beau, The Riddler, who had used a primitive version of the same trap on Batman and Robin years earlier. While she understood the need to get the drop on Gotham’s greatest superheroes, she so preferred using these evil devices on young, nubile, female athletes. Even if the heavy binding her minions were subjecting the US soccer team to might be considered overkill by some, The Coach knew that the terror and confinement they were feeling in their net and web prison would make them ideal subjects for the next step in her plan.
Coach operated some levers on the side of her truck which opened a door at the top of the cargo hold. Another switch operated a winch that emerged from inside the truck and extended over the field. Coach maneuvered the end of the winch to the area where Grace, Sylvia and their victims were standing (or in the case of the soccer team, lying immobile). A hook descended from the winch which Grace and Sylvia fastened to the net above the helpless girl’s mesh and web enshrouded heads.
Once the winch was fastened, Coach threw another switch which lifted the entire bundle slowly off the ground. Tia and her companions, helpless and terrified, could only scream (their cries muffled by their cocoon) as they felt themselves lifted upwards. Slowly, the human chrysalis was raised to a point where the girl’s netted bodies were dangling in the air a few feet off the ground. Grace and Sylvia used the occasion to give the girls a final basting in web, spinning them around to ensure that no part of their bodies remained unstuck.
As they struggled feebly within their prison, the five-woman net-and-web prison resembled nothing so much as a beating heart from the vantage point of Coach and her partners. With another throw of a switch, the winch lifted the bound teammates higher, eventually swinging them over the opening in the truck and lowering them into the cargo hold. With that, the winch retracted and the top of the truck closed again. Tia and her companions, wrapped more tightly than any Christmas present in history, were now lying on the floor of the truck, in the dark, awaiting their fate.
“You know what to do,” the Coach ordered her minions who made their way into the truck to prepare their victims. Coach, knowing it would take at least a half hour to prep the captives, decided to spend the time taking some shots on goal with the soccer balls the team had so carelessly left behind.
“What do those five have that I don’t?” the Coach asked herself.
The answer was obvious: A net and nearly-unbreakable webbing around every square inch of their bodies.
Coach smiled as she sank one ball after another into the goal.
Part 8 - Be the Ball
Batgirl pulled into the parking lot of the soccer field where the kidnapping had just taken place, parking her Batgirl Cycle in front of the truck where - unknown to her - the victims of Coach’s last caper were held captive.
After the initial call from her father, Batgirl did some quick research and learned that the kidnapping of the gymnast had come at the end of the string of sports-related robberies that had taken place in Gotham. While the Gotham City PD was busy following up on the thefts of cash, Batgirl recognized a familiar pattern in which a new supervillain in town tended to fill up his or her coffers with loot in order to afford various villainous implements, only to begin their real criminal spree thereafter. Given that it was only her hunch that this new gang was now focusing on the kidnapping business, she chose to follower her nose and let Gotham’s finest pursue leads from Coach’s various monetary crimes.
A quick scan on her portable Bat Computer indicated the location of various sports celebrities in town, and the US champion soccer team seemed too tempting a target if the kidnapping of athletes was the new game in Gotham. A call to their hotel gave her the team’s present location, and the absence of the five champions on the soccer field left her with the impression that she might be too late.
As she dismounted her bike, the purple-clad heroine noticed a strange woman, dressed as a referee, taking shots on goal at the far end of the field. Suspicious, Batgirl decided to confront the lone stranger to see if she had spotted the now-missing soccer team.
Making her way across the field, Batgirl soon caught the eye of Coach who spun around to greet her.
“Well well,” said The Coach. “Fancy finding Batgirl here in this lonely corner of Gotham.”
A number of things made Batgirl suspicious about this particular citizen. First off, her referee outfit seemed more like a costume than a uniform, given that she was also wearing nylon stockings and a black skirt. And then there were the strands of webbing that clung to her ref’s shirt, something Batgirl dimly recalled being part of a trap Batman and Robin had once fallen prey to.
Deciding that time was of the essence, the Caped Crusader decided to pounce first and ask questions later. With a quick motion, her leg went flying into Coach’s abdomen, sending the villainess flying towards a nearby soccer net. Winded, the bellicose baddie was unable to stop Batgirl from slapping a Batcuff over her left wrist. Pulling Coach’s arm around the soccer goal post, she proceeded to fasten the other end of the cuff to the woman’s right ankle. Now manacled and wrapped around the pole, Coach could only curse and tug at her cuffed limbs as Batgirl repeated the cuffing process, this time attaching Coach’s right wrist to her left ankle around the same pole.
Having turned her quarry into a bound pretzel, Batgirl stood up and began to interrogate her prisoner.
“Who are you? How long have you been here? And did you see five soccer players here in the last hour?” Batgirl asked her prisoner.
“This is outrageous,” screamed The Coach! “Let me go immediately or I’m taking you out of the game!”
Batgirl looked quizzically at her captive, then stood back and repeated her questions, this time more vehemently than before.
“You have one second to answer me before I call Chief O’Hara and have him haul you before the hot lights at Gotham PD HQ,” she replied.
“Sorry, dear,” the chained villain responded. “But I’m afraid you are due for a penalty kick.”
With that, Batgirl turned around to see Grace and Sylvia poised several years downfield from her. The two henchwomen had changed into the abandoned uniforms of the US soccer team, and each girl stood in front of a soccer ball, lying on the ground before them.
Before Batgirl had time to think, the two women kicked their balls at Batgirl, sending them flying towards the Caped Crusader. At first, Batgirl was relieved that the two balls seemed to be flying on a trajectory that would make them miss her by several feet on either side. It was only when the balls came closer to her that she realized that they were connected by something that looked like a black line of cord.
The cord that fastened the balls together hit Batgirl square in the chest. Immediately, the balls went flying around her, wrapping her in one tight loop of black cord after another, like a soccer-ball bola. As she struggled against the cord which now bound her arms to her body, Grace and Sylva let fly with another pair of bola balls that added fresh loops to Batgirl’s binding, tying her wrists to her hips and wrapping her down to her thighs.
As the girls prepared another volley, The Caped Crusader knew she was in trouble. This round hit her above her knees and spun around her legs and calves, leaving the bottom of her body as thoroughly bound as her top. This bola ball binding knocked her off balance, and within seconds she had toppled to the ground, struggling in the balls and rope.
Having grounded their prey, Grace and Sylvia moved on the bound Batgirl, detaching the soccer balls from the cord, pulling the line as tightly as possible around the fallen heroine and tying it off in knots that were beyond Batgirl’s reach. They then proceeded to pull more of the black cord from their pockets. Grace used on length of cord to tightly wrap the heroine’s ankles, while Sylvia snagged the Batgirl’s wrists, positioned them behind her back and tied them off with more rope.
While she hoped these villains were finished with her, Batgirl soon realized that they had barely gotten started. First, they folded the helpless heroine at the knees and tightly wrapped more rope in a loop beneath her knees and around the back of her neck. Another length of line was connected between her bond wrists and bound ankles, folding her over even more tightly.
After several more minutes of binding, Batgirl realized that now that she had been captured by soccer balls, her crazed captors were busy turning her into a soccer ball with one of the most stringent ball ties she had ever been placed in. More and more rope was added around her contorted body, horizontally, vertically, even diagonally, until Batgirl formed an almost perfect sphere, held in place by yards and yards of the tough black cord.
“Nice job,” Coach commended her acolytes. “Now if you don’t mind fishing out some keys from that little package you just created.”
It took some creative digging, but Grace eventually managed to work her hands into the tight Batgirl bundle to pull Batcuff keys from Batgirl’s utility belt. After freeing their master, the three woman proceeded to have fun with their captive, rolling her on the ground between them like a human medicine ball.
“It’s not every day we get to knock off two superheroines,” said The Coach. “Go get the ‘You Know What’ from the back of the van.” She then turned to Batgirl with a particularly evil grin. Batgirl was too frightened to think what she meant by knocking off “two superheroines.” Indeed, she was clearly in no position to affect even her own fate, much less the fate of one of her comrades who may have run into these crazed harpies before.
Part 9 - Interference
As Grace went back to the truck to fetch the “you know what,” Coach and Sylvia rolled their captive sphere towards the soccer goal on which Batgirl had recently bound the leader of this group. They then carefully unwound some of the rope tying the fallen heroine, stood her up and proceeded to loosen more of the ropes around her upper body.
Batgirl struggled to shake loose her captors, but the amount of rope still tying her body left her without the leverage needed to prevent her from being rebound, this time with her wrists attached to the far upper corners of the goal post. Once they had secured her arms in this standing half spread eagle position, the women removed the rest of the line from Batgirl’s body.
Batgirl yanked at the ropes tying her wrists to the goal posts. While they were loose enough to give her some freedom of movement within the goal, they were just the right length to prevent her from moving outside the goal line.
As Batgirl tried to figure out a way to escape her current binding, Grace returned with a bundle that Batgirl recognized as a load of TNT big enough to blow all of them to bits. Grace climbed one of the goal posts on the soccer net and fastened the dynamite to the top of the post while Sylva ran behind the net, threading wire through the back of the net’s mesh, then attaching an end of the wire to the bomb at the top of the goal post.
“Now Batgirl,” said the Coach. “In punishment for your playing out of turn, you will be required to play goalie for this next game. As you can see, I’ve upped the ante by stringing the trigger for that TNT to the back of this soccer net. The wire trigger is pressure sensitive, so anything hitting it will set off the bomb. This includes a soccer ball.”
Batgirl began to panic as she realized her predicament. She would indeed have to block whatever shots were taken on goal, or be blown to smithereens. But given the size of the bomb, who was going to be doing the kicking, Batgirl thought? Anyone close enough to take a shot would also be blown up in the subsequent explosion.
As she pondered that thought, Sylvia ran back to the truck and returned with Tia Prochuto, now free from her net and web prison, but looking rather glassy eyed.
“You might notice that the current captain of the US soccer team is a little predisposed to my suggestions right now,” explained Coach. “In fact, that barrette in her hair is directly connected to this little mind-control device,” she noted as she held up a medium size control box.
“Tia,” said Coach into the control device.
“Yes Coach,” replied Tia.
“It’s overtime and you are down one goal. You need to sink just one penalty to win the match. Do you think you can do it?” inquired Coach of her hypnotized victim/accomplice.
“No problem,” replied Tia.
“Good,” said Coach. “And in today’s game you can take as many kicks as you like. Just give us five minutes to get off the field before you take your first shot.”
With that, the three evil women left the field, heading back to their truck and driving off before Tia could take action that would reduce both her and Batgirl to blasted particles.
“Tia, Fight it!” cried Batgirl as she struggled in the ropes which bound her to the goal posts.
These pleas did no good, as five minutes past with Tia standing at firm attention, waiting to begin her penalty kicks.
After five minutes, Tia snapped into action and fired a well-placed shot at the net. Batgirl parried the shot with her feet, kicking the ball out of bounds. Tia retrieve it.
Under normal circumstances, Batgirl might have been able to block these shots all day. But her current predicament left her a goalie unable to use her hands. And her opponent in this deadly match was one of the greatest players in the world. Clearly, she could not keep this up for long.
Tia took shot after shot on goal and Batgirl managed to block them all. As the tied heroine began to tire and slow, Tia took one more direct shot that hit Batgirl squarely in the gut, leaving her crumpled up and winded. Without the ability to call a time out, the game continued with Tia retrieving the ball and preparing for a final kick.
This kick had plenty of spin on it and Batgirl, exhausted and injured, was unable to keep it from slipping past her. She shut her eyes tightly and awaited the inevitable as the ball made its way back towards the trigger.
Suddenly, there was a flash of gold as the bomb was detached from the goal post and flung high into the air where it exploded harmlessly. Batgirl looked up to see what had happened, then looked at Tia to see how both of them had survived. To her surprise, Tia was still standing, but seemed to be tied tightly, wrapped head to toe in gold braid like a present.
Batgirl instantly recognized the binding material around Tia as Wonder Woman’s magic lasso. Wonder Woman appeared beside Batgirl and proceeded to untie her wrists, freeing her from the defused, deadly soccer trap.
“I got your message, Barbara,” said Wonder Woman and she completed freeing her companion. “Glad I got here in time.”
“You and me both,” said Batgirl as the two heroines approached the bound soccer captain.
“So what’s with her,” asked Wonder Woman.
“Mind control device,” she replied. “Here, let me show you.”
Batgirl pulled the barrette from Tia’s hair and watched as the young athlete’s eyes immediately came to life.
“What’s going on?” asked Tia as she realized she was bound head to toe in unbreakable magic rope.
As they unwound the rope from the newly liberated Tia, Batgirl explained what had transpired to both Tia and Wonder Woman. Wonder Woman and Tia also took time to explain the traps they had been placed in earlier that morning.
“If we only knew where they were keeping their hostages,” chimed Batgirl.
“Actually,” said Tia. “As they were freeing me from the net, and before they slapped that mind-control device on my head, one of Coach’s henchwomen mentioned something about “Livermore.” Does that mean anything to you.
Wonder Woman shrugged, but Batgirl - a Gotham local - knew exactly what she was talking about. The Livermore Roller Skating Rink was an abandoned sports and game complex in Gotham City. Given its present empty state, it would make a perfect hiding place for Coach and her fast-expanding criminal gang.
“Let’s take you to the hospital,” Batgirl said to Tia. “Then,” she continued looking at Diana, “it’s time for the two of us to get some extra practice time with our beloved Coach.
Part 10 - A Hole in One
Two ropes flew into the air from behind the Livermore Roller Rink.
Batgirl and Wonder Woman had both ridden to the abandoned roller skating arena on Batgirl's cycle, where they decided to surprise Coach and her expanding army of mind-controlled athletes by sneaking into the top of the building. Batgirl hurled her Batarang which trailed a length of climbing line, and Wonder Woman used her magic lasso to join Batgirl in scaling the building. Once on the roof, they found a convenient skylight and entered the structure.
Unfortunately for them, the first equipment Coach purchased at Fiendish Devices 'R Us was a complete compliment of security cameras and electric eyes to protect her hideout. No fool on security matters (having worked in a prison before her transformation to her new identity), Coach knew full well the value of always knowing the state of one's own hideout. As Batgirl and Wonder Woman entered the building, an electric eye was invisibly triggered and images of the two heroines immediately traveled down to Coach's closed circuit TV with the speed of electrons.
Coach stared at the image of Batgirl and Wonder Woman stalking through her lair, then watched them split up, probably to cover ground more quickly.
"So, you managed to make it to this inning alive," Coach said to her enemy's images on her screen. "Well, I'm afraid I have home field advantage here."
Coach operated a switch on her security panel.
"Sylvia, Grace, get in here immediately," she commanded to her colleagues. "I'm ready for a round of golf."
After separating from Batgirl, Wonder Woman began exploring the small rooms and offices surrounding the main skating rink, trying to find the imprisoned athletes. Offices were linked in a ring-like hallway that encircled the main skating area. Apparently, each office was also linked through a door to the next office in the circle, making it easy for the superheroine to walk from office to office without having to travel in the less-secure hallway.
After visiting half a dozen rooms, Wonder Woman entered a small room and closed the door behind her. She threw a light switch, but nothing happened. Trying to open the door behind her, she discovered it was locked, leaving her no option but to move towards the other end of the room in inky blackness.
As she started to walk the length of the room, she heard the sound of dozens of hard objects hitting the floor, as though someone had dumped a bunch of rocks from the ceiling. Suddenly, her foot slid on something round. Trying to regain her balance, her other foot hit another group of spherical objects, causing her to trip and fall to the ground.
Just as she hit the floor, the lights came on and Wonder Woman realized that the floor was covered with golf balls. Both amused and annoyed with herself, she wondered who was stupider, she for tripping on the balls in the first place, or the villains who thought such a primitive trick would slow her down.
As she began to get up, the golf balls closest to her exploded with a popping sound. The explosion sprayed the heroine with a kind of resin that quickly hardened into a substance that resembled cellophane, sticking to her costume, her skin and itself. Some of the resin had gotten onto each of her hands which were now stuck to her hips. Other golf balls had exploded near the heroine's legs and feet which began to get stuck together in a coat of cellophane-like plastic.
"I always wondered what was in the middle of a golf ball," Wonder Woman thought to herself, still confident she could break free from this seemingly-flimsy plastic. As she tried to pull her hands free, however, she found the material to be quite strong. And more troubling, the other golf balls in the room were now rolling towards her, seemingly controlled by an outside force to swarm the fallen heroine and shower her with more of the sticky spray.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Dozens of balls rolled towards the struggling Amazon and detonated, adding more plastic spray to Wonder Woman's predicament. Wonder Woman tried to roll away from them, but they were clearly being controlled by some outside mind to move towards their victim as if they were made of metal and she were a magnet. In fact, her rolls and struggles only exposed more of the fallen heroine's body to a covering of plastic.
After a few minutes, all of the golf balls were gone, having done their job in layering Wonder Woman in a heavy basting of saran wrap. The heroine tried to struggle, but the material was incredibly strong, and her wiggles only created a kind of crackling sound, with no advancement towards freedom. As she flexed her muscles, Wonder Woman noticed that there was some give in the plastic which encased her body from her mouth to the tip of her toes. Perhaps, she thought, this stretchiness would give her the opening she needed to break free.
Those hopes were dashed as the lights in the room went out again to be replaced by a new set of lights which gave off a hot orange glow. Wonder Woman felt her body warming up and realized she was lying under a bed of heat lamps. "Oh no," she thought, as she realized the true nature of the material which bound her.
SKRITTTTT!!!!!!!! The plastic encasing Wonder Woman's body contracted almost instantly, shrink wrapping her into a skin tight package within which she could not even wiggle her fingers. The plastic around her mouth sealed into an impenetrable gag, and the plastic around her body sealed her in an unbreakable mummy wrap.
The heat lamps went out and the normal lighting returned. And with the lights came Coach and her lackeys, dressed in outlandish golf wear, the Coach brandishing a driver.
"You know, Wondy," Coach told her return captive. "I could use this club to simply bash your head in, and we could call it a day." She positioned the club menacingly close to the captured heroine's head.
"But I think you need to pull your weight around here first. Girls! Take Wonder Bait here down to the skating rink. I have one last position I'd like her to play."
Grace and Sylvia picked up the shrink wrapped heroine and placed her into a large cardboard box that had been constructed as a huge mockup of the kind of box in which golf balls were sold in a sporting goods store. Wonder Woman, as the shrink-wrapped product, fit nicely into the container.
Despite Wonder Woman's fright about her current predicament, all she could think about was her sympathy for Batgirl and the other crime fighters of Gotham City. Bad enough to have to contend with homicidal criminals on a regular basis, but if she had to deal with these overwrought thematic villains all year long, she would soon become the nation's number on spoke-heroine for the death penalty.
Part 11 - Roller Blade Rodeo
Batgirl made her way through the upper floor of the skating rink, making sure the coast was clear before she began her investigation of the main skating arena on the ground floor.
As she entered the rink, she knew she was in the right place. The huge skating stadium was strewn with athletic room lockers and a huge variety of sporting equipment: racks of baseball bats, lacrosse and hockey sticks, and balls of every conceivable game. Batgirl even spotted a few boomerangs, some Jai Alai equipment and what looked like parachute silk (in a dim memory, Batgirl remembered that chutes like this were sometimes used in children's gym classes).
The only thing that seemed to be out of place (or out of scale) was something that looked like a giant box of shrink wrapped golf balls, sitting near a collection of gymnastics equipment (which included parallel bars, parallel rings and a trampoline). Upon closer scrutiny, she realized that this box contained the women she came with, Wonder Woman, still shrink wrapped and held immobile, with tight plastic stilling her limbs and silencing her mouth.
Smelling a trap, but having no choice but to help her friend, Batgirl pulled a sharp blade out of her utility belt (the same blade she had used earlier to cut Wonder Woman's "magic lasso") and ran up to her friend. As she approached to begin the process of slicing Wonder Woman free, she heard the sound of rushing footsteps.
Looking up, Batgirl noticed the kidnapped gymnast, Nadia Fadiniche, running towards her in colorful gymnast garb, as though preparing for an Olympic performance. Before she had time to react, the talented gymnast jumped on a nearby trampoline and launched herself towards the parallel rings that were strategically placed in front of Wonder Woman and her would-be rescuer.
The airborne Nadia grabbed the rings and used the momentum of her flight to land a high-energy kick right to Batgirl's jaw. Batgirl reeled backwards from the force of the kick, releasing her blade which landed at the bound Wonder Woman's feet.
Staggering from the blow, Batgirl crumbled to the ground. Regaining her equilibrium, she stood up and begin to collect her senses. And the first thing she sensed was a lasso being thrown over her head and settling down her body before cinching around her ankles.
Another lasso followed which tightened around her knees, followed by a third lariat which tied her thighs together. Three more ropes followed, these ones binding her arms to her body at hip level, and above and below her breasts.
The trap was sprung so quickly Batgirl did not even realize who was at the other ends of the six lassos which now held her tight. Looking up, she saw all of the remaining kidnapped athletes, each on roller blades, and each holding a long coil of rope, the other ends of which were now fastened around Batgirl’s body.
The barrettes in their hair alerted Batgirl to the fact that her captors were under the mind control of Coach and her minions. In fact, the bound heroine spotted Grace and Sylvia just beyond the six mesmerized athletes, shouting orders into the microphone of Coach's mind-control device.
"Time to discover what a maypole feels like!" shouted Sylvia.
"Athletes, start your engines!" Grace hollered into the mind-control gadget.
Immediately, the six athletes began to skate around Batgirl, three clockwise, three counterclockwise, wrapping the heroine in more and more rope. With each turn around their purple "maypole" another six tight loops of rope were added around the helpless heroine's body.
The skill of the four soccer players and two synchronous swimmers helped them to avoid getting the rope tangled as they spun their web around their prisoner, as did the coordinating commands of Grace and Sylvia at the mind-control helm.
Batgirl reckoned that each girl had a 25-30 foot coil of rope at her disposal, which meant that by the time they were done with their little skating tour, Batgirl was tied with close to 200 feet of cord. Looking down at her body, she felt like she had been turned into a giant piece of rope herself. Tight loops of rope bound every inch of her body, from her shoulders to her ankles. And once the six girls had run close to the end of their lines, they moved in for the coup-de-grace, pulling the cord as tightly as possible and tying it off around Batgirl's feet, knees, thighs, hips and breasts.
Once again, Batgirl had been captured by this sporting band and found herself at their mercy.
Grace and Sylvia ordered their athlete robots to remove their skates and await further orders. As the girls followed these commands, the two henchwoman moved in on their new prisoner. Grace giggled as she gave Batgirl a tiny shove, enough force to topple the hopelessly bound heroine into the waiting arms of Sylvia. Hoisting the bound Batgirl by the shoulders and feet, they made their way to a bank of lockers and stuffed her inside one of them, knowing full well that in that enclosed space the Caped Crusader would not have the wiggle room to effect an escape.
"Looks like this game's over in two outs," Grace said to Sylvia as they high-fived one another.
Part 12 -- Turnaround in the Ninth Inning
While Grace and Sylvia were watching Batgirl become a rope mummy, Wonder Woman calculated that she had one hope for escape. Rocking back and forth, she managed to tip herself over onto the ground on top of the knife Batgirl had dropped in her aborted effort to free her sticken friend. Fortunately, the villainous sporting gang was too wrapped up in wrapping up Batgirl to notice Wonder Woman’s attempt to free herself.
The knife was fortunately oriented blade up so that it pierced the shrink wrap as the heroine fell onto it. Wonder Woman had arranged her fall so that that penetration of the plastic would be located near one of her bound hands. The plan worked, creating a small hole at finger level.
Wonder Woman used all her strength to push a finger through the small opening, then used the leverage this gave her to rip a wider hole in the plastic. After some feverish struggling, Wonder Woman’s hand was free. More force was applied and eventually she found herself with a completely free arm.
Knowing it would take some time to finish freeing herself completely, Wonder Woman sized up the situation. Batgirl was now completely caught and was busy being stuffed into a locker. In seconds, Grace and Sylvia would notice her own escape attempt and would do what they needed to stop her before she had the chance to free herself completely. Her only salvation could come from allies, and her racing mind told her how to find them.
Stretching her arm, Wonder Woman reached a field hockey stick that was lying close to where she was struggling. She aimed carefully, then hurled the stick across the arena where it landed on a plastic box that shattered to pieces.
As it turned out, this plastic box was the mind control device that Grace and Sylvia had left on the ground as they turned their attention towards confining Batgirl. The Amazon princess had gambled that destroying the device would free the mind-captive athletes. In a few seconds, she would know if her gamble paid off.
The four soccer players, two swimmers and one gymnast felt a blast of pain as they were freed from the mind control, then quickly regained their senses. While they did not recognize their surroundings, they did spot two familiar faces: Grace and Sylvia, the very women who took such pleasure in binding and tormenting them, just before placing them under the spell of the fiendish mind control device.
While all seven women were disoriented, they did understand one thing clearly: the two henchwomen had to be taken out.
Grace and Sylvia, shorn of their army, understood that they were now likely to become the hunted and decided that discretion was the better part of valor. They turned tail and ran across the skating rink floor, followed by a mob of athletes determined to get their revenge.
Trini and Angelina grabbed the parachute cloth that was on the ground as they took off in pursuit of Grace and Sylvia. While Coach's henchwomen were in great shape, they were no match for the trained athletes who pursued them. Within seconds, Trini and Angelina were bearing down on their prey with the parachute and ran past them on either side, capturing them in the middle of the cloth.
The synchronous swimmers ran in front of the two bagged henchwomen, sealing them in a bag of parachute silk. They then ran behind them, pulling the cloth tight, causing the two enwrapped villainesses to stumble to the ground. Once there, the enshrouded women were set upon by the rest of the athletes who had grabbed fistfuls of rope as they chased Grace and Sylvia through the rink. Working in tandem, the athletes managed to wrap yard after yard of rope around the silk wrapped bad girls, tying them into a supertight bundle of parachute silk and rope.
As the bundle flopped on the ground and rolled around the floor, it was clear that two bad girls were out of the action.
Part 13 - Endgame
In the time it took the athletes to turn Grace and Sylvia into a wrapped present, Wonder Woman had used Batgirl's knife to practically cut all the shrink wrap from her body. As she worked on cutting loose her legs, she heard a loud smacking noise from the far end of the rink. Looking up, she saw Coach at the other side of the skating arena, standing in front of a metal locker, from which she was withdrawing baseballs.
Coach pulled a string trigger from the ball, then threw it into the air, smacking it with a baseball bat on its way down. The first hit was spectacularly well aimed to land at the feet of Trini.
Immediately, the ball exploded and showered the swimmer with material that looked like rubber bands. Following a trajectory that defied reason and physics, the bands somehow wrapped around Trini, tightening around her arms, her legs and her feet. She tried to pull them off her, but they wound around her at incredible speed, and more and more bands just kept coming from the seemingly tiny sphere.
In less than a minute, Trini had been turned into a compact, rubber-band mummy, her body disappearing in a skin tight wrapping of elastics that wound around her body from her shoulders to her ankles.
Nadia was the next target of Coach's evil spheres. Another expertly hit ball landed at the gymnast's feet and detonated. This time, the ball spewed forth a thick spray of colorful string. While the strands were thin, there seemed to be hundreds of hundreds of them in multiple florescent colors. The string wound itself around Angelina’s body and tightened until she too was turned into a mummy, this time one wrapped in thousands of feet of day glo threads.
If Batgirl could see what was going on (rather than being bound and confined to a tiny locker) she would have instantly recognized the Coach's weapons as the same style of bondage grenades used by Catwoman in previous encounters. Apparently, Coach was shopping for her deadly toys at the same place.
One by one, the athletes' fell. One player from the US soccer team took a ball which wrapped her in a tight sticky net that enveloped her completely, from over her head to beneath her feet. Two other teammates had the misfortune to stumble on top of each other as the ball Coach threw at them did its evil work. Instantly, the two girls were tightly wrapped in cloth strips resembling Ace bandages. The girls had stumbled in an awkward position so that they were tied together with each girl’s feet bound next to the other girl’s face. Unlike normal athletic bandages, the cloth that strapped the two of them together had no elasticity or give. Rather, they bound the two women together in a package that was completely unable to move.
As Coach made short work of the remaining players, binding one in hundreds of feet of thin chain, and tying the other in loop after loop of ribbon, Wonder Woman worked frantically to free herself from the remaining shrink wrap. Batgirl's knife worked wonders in slashing off the wrapping that remained wound around her body, but the heroine realized that time was not on her side. As she was inching her way towards escape, her short-term allies were being transformed into mummies, one at a time. By the time she was free, all seven athletes (and Coach's erstwhile minions) littered the skating rink, a sea of helpless, immobilized bodies.
Wonder Woman got to her feet as she saw Coach pulling another deadly bondage ball from her seemingly infinite collection, pulling the trigger and tossing it in the air. "This one's for you, poor-sport!" she shouted as she gave the weapon a powerful smack and sent it flying towards Wonder Woman.
The Amazon Princess had little time to react. Looking around, she quickly grabbed a nearby Jai Alai scoop-like glove. With remarkable agility, she grabbed the oncoming ball as it sailed towards her and with a mighty hurl sent it flying back towards its origin.
Coach panicked as she saw the ball flying back towards her. This panic subsided as she realized that the ball was flying far over her head. As she turned around to grab another bondage grenade from her locker, the ball flew in an arc over the top of the bank of lockers, where it exploded behind the locker containing Coach’s bondage arsenal.
The force of the explosion hit the back of the locker, causing it to rock, then shake, then fall over on top of Coach who was poised directly in front of the open locker door. "Oh no!" she cried as the metal locker fell over her head and down to the ground, sealing her in the metal case like a casket.
Suddenly, the sound of over a dozen explosions could be heard coming from the inside of the locker as the force of the crash caused all of the remaining bondage balls to detonate inside the locker. Given that that the only person sharing that space was Coach herself, the grenades went to work doing their mischievous duty on their owner.
The entire locker rocked and rolled as Coach fought off the binding material that was spreading out all around her. After a few minutes, the locker stilled.
Wonder Woman, fearing her former nemesis may have been hurt in the explosion of all of the bondage grenades, ran up to the locker and pulled the metal case off The Coach.
While Wonder Woman had been bound a number of times in her life, and had taken her turn at binding her foes (and occasional friends) she had never seen anyone as helplessly tied as the woman who now lay at her feet.
Ever material one could use to tie someone up was wrapped around Coach's body: tape, cloth, ribbon, net, chain, and at least a half-dozen different types of rope. The binding was so thick (nearly a foot in some places) that Wonder Woman could barely make out the contours of the villainesses body. The superheroine reckoned that Coach must have been bound in at least a hundred pounds of material. Clearly, this bad gal was going nowhere.
Wonder Woman rolled the mound in front of her over to ensure that her former opponent was not suffocating under all that binding. Turning her on her back like a turtle, Wonder Woman saw that Coach had done the right thing when the bondage grenades began blowing up around her and had covered her face to ensure that her binding did not cause her to smother. This left her nose exposed to the air, so she could breath. At the same time, the pressure of the binding material against her arms pushed her hands tightly over her mouth, causing her to effectively gag herself with her own fingers.
Wonder Woman determined that Coach was in no danger, although her ultra binding left her absolutely rigid, so there was not hope for escape.
Given that the bad girls were now all accounted for, Wonder Woman set to work freeing the seven mummified athletes strewn across the skating rink. Even with each freed girl pitching in to untie another, the process of unwrapping all of the prisoners took over an hour. During that period, Grace and Sylvia had made zero progress extracting themselves from their cocoon of parachute silk and rope, and Coach remained as Wonder Woman left her, a self-hand-gagged prisoner in a skin-tight coffin of rope, ribbon, net and at least a half dozen other materials.
It was only after Wonder Woman had freed all of the athletes and called the police that she visited the locker that held the still-bound Batgirl. As she opened the locker door, Batgirl peered out, a sweaty mess, obviously overheated from useless struggles against her binding.
“What happened?” Batgirl asked, surveying the scene of freed good girls, and evil-doers in bondage.
“The good guys won,” Wonder Woman replied, extracting the still-tied Batgirl from her locker confinement and throwing the rope-wrapped purple package over her shoulder.
“Good job Diana,” Batgirl replied. “So, all that’s left is to untie me, right?”
Wonder Woman reached into the locker that had previously held Batgirl prisoner and extracted a piece of sporting equipment that hung on a hook.
“In due time, Babs,” she replied with a fiendish grin. “Before that, however, you and I have a little date with this tennis racket.”
Batgirl’s heart sank. Apparently, Wonder Woman still held a grudge from the trick she had played on her earlier that day. As Wonder Woman exited the skating rink with the rope-wrapped Batgirl and tennis racket both firmly in hand, the caped crusader realized that the day was not over yet.