Fit to be Tied (or More Bondage Perils of Supergirl)

Author: Canun6
Time to Read:49min
Views:0 (All Time)
Added Date:12/20/2021
Tags: SupergirlWizards Lair Supergirl Contest 2000Wizards Lair Contest Winner

"This isn't exactly what I expected. . .", Supergirl thought. She was suspended above center stage at the Metropolis Civic Center, trussed up like a Christmas turkey. A golden cord looped around her elbows and wrists and then around her body held her arms tightly to her back and to each other. The same cord continued down over her hips, forming knotted coils around her thighs, knees, calves, and ankles. A length of the same line circled her slim waist, passed between her legs, and was fastened to the loop in the cord that coiled around her upper arms at the shoulders. This length of rope passed through an eye at the end of a long straight line of the same material which seemed to disappear unto the upper reaches of the stage where a winch reeled in and now suspended the slowly swinging Girl of Steel, body nearly parallel to the ground, powerful legs reaching for the floor, toes just a few inches from it.

As if this wasn't bad enough, when she had raised her head, the 'guest' binding her had pulled her hair back and tied that into the nest of rope securing her upper arms, tilting her head far back. When she'd opened her mouth to complain, this same 'guest bitch' (as the Maid of Might was beginning to think of her) stuffed a large ball of rope (a 'monkey fist' knot, she was told) into her mouth, and tied the loose ends under her hair behind her head making an effective ball gag. The exaggerated pose, putting super tits and ass on outrageous display as never before, mesmerized all within the enormous stadium.

The suspension wasn't all that unpleasant to this Supergirl, although it would have been extremely painful, if not lethal, for a normal human. However, with her back arched, forcing her impressive breasts to protrude outrageously, and the cord passing through her crotch and between her muscular buttocks pulling her shorts into that lower cleavage and clearly defining her muscular buttocks for the assembled thousands of Metropolis (and the millions watching on TV), it was embarrassing, to say the least. Worse, the 'guest', a mousy little thing with large glasses, dressed in a short gray business suit and heels, with glistening black hair sweeping her large breasts as she bent to her task, was working at much more than simply immobilizing the girl of steel. At every opportunity, when her actions were hidden from the watchful camera and audience by her's or Supergirl's body, she would stroke the hollow of a perfect knee, glide her fingers over taut nipples, breathily whisper endearments warmly into a supersensitive ear, tickle a muscular thigh, and even fondle the moistening lips of that superpussy now obviously bulging out on either side of the golden 'crotch rope'. As her head swirled with confusion and her body buzzed with arousal, she did her best to be a good sport and to put on a cheerful, confident expression (as cheerful and confident as possible, under the constraints) and wait 'calmly' (in reality waiting in, sweaty, dizzy, foggy-headed lust soaked squirming arousal) for the word to break free. "(H..h..how c..c..ould I let this h.. h..happen to m..m.meee??!!. . . .)", she scolded herself.

The Beginning

To answer Supergirl's heartfelt plea, we must look back nearly two months when she had been cornered by the mayor of Metropolis just after she had saved him from an assassination attempt at his inaugural address. He had taken advantage of the situation and that rare meeting with the Princess of Power to enlist her support for a new children's diseases research hospital to be built in Metropolis. He asked her to be the guest of honor at the kickoff fundraiser in the Metropolis Civic Center, two months hence. Supergirl normally shunned public appearances, as she knew she could be the target of extremely powerful (and powerfully armed) enemies, who would think nothing of bombing a crowd of innocents just to get a shot at her. Unfortunately for her, the new mayor, a bit arrogantly, assured her that the city would handle all security, and if she refused, the throng of media people would make her look like a wimp or worse, an aloof self- important 'superior' being who'd showed off when she felt like it but who couldn't be bothered with the real problems of the world. Much against her better judgement, she had accepted. "How hard could it be?. . . just this once", she thought. . . "It might even be fun!"

With her acceptance, the mayor's planning committee went into high gear, brainstorming events to take best advantage of their guest of honor. Several days later, Linda Danvers, Supergirl's alter ego, relaxing over breakfast coffee in her sunny apartment, was shocked to learn that the primary charity event was to be a 'roping contest'. Supergirl had apparently issued a challenge to anyone to bind her (for a hefty donation to the hospital fund, of course). In the unlikely event that the super guest of honor couldn't extricate herself in five minutes, an anonymous philanthropist had promised to match everyone else's donations. Furthermore, Supergirl would allow herself to be photographed with the donor, would autograph the photo, and agree to a few more hours of publicity photos with the 'guest roper'. Linda slammed the paper down, which unfortunately went through her breakfast table, shattering it and denting the floor beneath. The damage wasn't helping her mood when the phone rang. "Hey, Kara!! I just read today's paper! What a neat idea! Was it yours?!? It doesn't sound like you at all! Whatever possessed you to do it!! Why didn't you tell me?!?!" Linda recognized the voice of one of her few friends, Barbara Gordon, AKA 'Batgirl', and began to feel her spirits brighten. "Oh, hi, Babs! No, it wasn't my idea at all! I just found out about it from the paper, too! Those damn politicians! I'm going to call them and 'politely' decline." "Oh Kara, NO!! Don't call it off! It's a wonderful idea, shouldn't hurt anyone, and is just offbeat enough to draw enormous numbers of people, and money for the hospital! It'll be good for you, too! You need to get out and develop a public persona. Learn to enjoy all the publicity you generate. Get over some of your shyness! Work with the crowd! It'll be great for you! You're usually so withdrawn. Let me come and help you prepare?!?! Please? Please? Please?!?!?!?", wheedled the excited voice on the phone.

"OK, OK, OK, let me think about it!. . .", Linda managed to work a word in, "but I don't think there's any preparation to do. It sounds as if I just let some jerk tie my hands together and I simply pull them apart. What do I need to prepare?" "But you're going to be doing it in front of a huge audience, and TV cameras!! It'll be broadcast all over the world!! The cameras will pick up every blink, smile, frown, or, heaven forbid, sneer, no matter how subtle or fleeting and the world will be watching. You've got to be professional, gracious, and 'in charge'! Even if you're hog-tied, gagged, and swinging from a chandelier you've got to project confidence, magnanimity, and a cheerful demeanor before you break free in a spectacularly explosive display of Kryptonian power!! You've got to be 'Queen of the World', not timid Linda Danvers! It's going to be like a super beauty pageant with one contestant. . . you!! I think some practice would do you good! Think about. . ." "Now hold on, Babs!", Linda managed to cut in, recalling some of Bab's kinky proclivities and beginning to see where this was going. "I think you're making more of this than there really is." "I'm not sure. . ." "Look! You'll be more at ease if you know what to expect, right?! I'm an expert with techniques for immobilizing people, if I do say so myself, and I've been tied up, cuffed, and shackled a few times. I can show you how someone will be likely to tie you, and I could show you how to get out of it (though I guess you won't be needing that. . .)." ". . . But did you see the 'prize'?!?!?", exclaimed Kara. "I'm not going to agree to let anyone use me in a photo shoot for their own private purposes!!", snorted Linda. "You don't honestly believe it could ever come to that!", teased Barbara. "Come ON!! That's just not possible!!" "Well. . . Maybe you're right. . .", replied Linda thoughtfully. ". . . And it could be fun playing "Queen of Escapes', and. . ." "Basking in the well-earned adulation of a world of admiring fans!!", finished Barbara enthusiastically. "Meet me by the Gotham Reservoir Park tomorrow morning at 6:00! I'll reserve a very private place for us to practice, and after a day of tie-and- escape you can decide whether or not you really want to refuse this incredible invitation! 'See you then!!! (Oh, I can't wait!)" effused the sometimes irritatingly cheerful Babs, and hung up!

While in the brooding Gotham 500 miles away a bubbling Barbara Gordon dashed off to make arrangements, in sunny Metropolis a thoughtful Supergirl sighed, smiled wryly, shook her head, and gently placed the receiver on its cradle. Babs was right. This sort of thing could be good for Supergirl in many ways. She would go through with it. The excitement was slowly beginning to build as she began to straighten up the disorganized kitchen.

Batgirl's Help

By 5:00 the next morning, the Girl of Steel was nearly vibrating with anticipation. She had no trouble waking, had a quick breakfast, and rapidly donned her long sleeved blue tunic with the 'S' symbol proudly displayed on her left breast like a badge, A pair of tight, abbreviated bright red shorts, slipper- like red boots and red cape clipped to her neck with a gold choker completed her costume. She slipped into a long coat, which hid most of her outfit, and made her way several blocks from her apartment to a little park. Although the air was chilly, the sun was just announcing itself in the east on this May morning, promising a beautiful, warm day. She felt wonderful as she made her usual careful survey of the area, strolled into a particularly private copse of trees, stashed her overcoat far up in a hollow of one of the huge elms that had miraculously escaped the plague of several decades back, and, with the grace of a ballerina leapt into the brightening skies of the waking city. As she rose, steadily accelerating, a thrill of sheer joy washed through her, carried by the cool wind, buoyed by the vista of the shining city dwindling below her, extinguishing its tiny jewel-like lights in favor of the brilliance of the warming sun. Life was wonderful! Holding her speed just below the mach (partly to be a quiet as possible and partly just to prolong the pleasure) and keeping a watchful eye for those clumsy human machines with which she shared the sky, the Mistress of the Skies traced a graceful arch over the low mountains to the often seemingly troubled Gotham. Today, fortunately, the weather was a delight on both sides of the mountains, and her spirits continued to soar as her telescopic vision spotted the smooth silver expanse of Gotham reservoir, at peace within its encircling chainlink fence. On the little rise to the south of the lake where a few picnic tables and barbecue pits had been installed, she spied the purple and gold clad figure of Batgirl, standing next to a black duffel nearly as large as herself, excitedly scanning the sky in her direction. She waived excitedly, then realized that she couldn't seem but a dot to Barbara, if that. Within a few moments, however, she had slowed and with her cape rising behind her she gracefully glided to the ground in front of the grinning costumed crime-fighter. The two friends embraced, then hung back, holding onto each other's hands as Supergirl was the first to speak: "I've given it a lot of thought, Babs, and I've decided to go through with it. I'm really excited about it all, but nervous as the devil, and grateful for any help you can give me!!" "Oh Kara!!", gushed Batgirl, "I'm so glad. . .! I've gotten some stuff together. . .", she glanced at her duffel and went on, ". . .and thought that the best place to 'exercise' would be deep in the dessert, about 60 miles to the west!", she pointed. "I know a spot that should be just the thing!! Can you take us there?!?", she finished, squeezing Supergirl's hands, eyes shining. Supergirl was reminded that around her, Babs always seemed to look for excuses to touch, caress, stroke, or lightly hold her, and although it was often a source of uneasiness for the reserved Maid of Might, today, the excitement and anticipation that enveloped them both made the attention appropriate, even welcome.

While the role of vigilante had come unbidden to Supergirl as an obligation stemming from her incredible powers, Batgirl had chosen that life for its excitement, danger, public adulation, and sheer fun! While the thoughtful, reserved, muscular blonde from another world kept questioning her place in this world and rarely opened up to anyone, the bouncing, auburn-haired athlete in the bat-suit and mask was eternally exuberant, full of fun and mischief, as though she were attending some grand costume party. In fact, out of costume, Barbara Gordon was businesslike, competent, and much quieter. Supergirl sometimes wondered at this dichotomy, but came to love and trust both personas and the complex woman they inhabited. Supergirl scooped up the delighted Batgirl and her duffel and flew off, the sun at their backs, enjoying the warmth of her friend, snuggled up against her, arms wrapped around her shoulders, eyes searching ahead for their arena. Roughly 10 minutes after the green farms had dissolved into the yellows and browns of the early spring dessert, Babs suddenly jerked in Supergirl's arms, waived a hand slightly off to the right of their flight path and shouted above the roar of the wind, "There it is!! Over there!".

They landed on a broad low table of rock, which was surrounded by scrub, extending off for miles in every direction. "Here's your stage!. . .", she announced, alighting and opening her bag. Then pointing towards the sun, still low in the sky, ". . . and there's your spotlight!! Now lets get busy!" Kara grinned at this, stood at attention, and asked "OK chief, what do I do now?!?" "You?. . . Nothing! Just stand there like that and let me do the work! Don't move, now. . ." Babs replied quietly, uncoiling a long white lariat, approaching in mock stealth as if she were about to lasso a wild pony. "THERE you go!" she bubbled as she dropped the loop over the blue clad shoulders and yanked it tight. "Just relax and exhale!" cried Babs as she danced around the grinning Maid of Might, winding the rope ever tighter, until she came to the end of it and tied it off.

"OK! This is very crude, but I though we'd start simple. How does it feel?!"

As Supergirl inhaled before speaking, and her powerful chest expanded, the tension in the rope reached the breaking point and, to the surprise of both girls it parted with a loud report, one end whipping painfully across Batgirl's right breast. "OW!!!" she shrieked, "Ow. . .ow. . .ow. . .ow. . . WOW!, that smarts", she hissed, dancing from foot to foot, rubbing her bruised tit. "I didn't think I had to wear my armor today, especially with you around!" "OH I'm sorry!!", cried an apologetic Girl of Steel. "Are you alright, Babs?!? Is there anything I can do?!?!?" At this, Babs pushed out a pouting lower lip, wrinkled her nose, leaned toward her concerned friend and whined, "Kiss it better, Mommy!!" At this, Supergirl, wrinkling her own nose, drew back slightly and remarked, "I guess you're not too badly hurt, after all. What happened?" "OKaaay. . ." said Batgirl, thoughtful for once, still nursing her wounded boob. ". . . we seem to have a lot of work ahead of us after all. Lets make a note to have the city install armor, or at least bulletproof glass on the stage so that your 'escapes' won't spray the audience with shrapnel. And YOU have to learn how to stay bound until everyone is a safe distance from you!! Let's try it again!" As the morning wore on, under Barbara's tutelage the powerful blonde learned how to hold herself while being bound. Not too loose so that the rope, or chains, or metal cable might break unexpectedly when she moved, or too 'flexed' so that they fell off of her when she relaxed. If she was to play along with the show, she at least had to give the illusion that she was tied up until she consciously undertook to free herself. Freeing herself, Batgirl insisted, should be an explosive display of raw power. . . what her fans wanted to see. . . ending in an heroic pose, much as a gymnast alighting from a triumphant exercise on the parallel bars. They practiced every move several times. Babs was pleased to see that Kara was beginning to get into the fun of it all, and was turning out to be quite a showman! When the sun reached the zenith, Babs pulled lunch out of its corner in the duffel and the two relaxed, discussing what they'd learned. Finally, leaning on the sloping side of the 'stage' while chewing on a cookie, Supergirl grinned, "We seem to have covered everything, haven't we? I guess that's it, then." "Oh no. . . we've still got a long way to go!" countered Batgirl, jumping up, wiping chocolate off her hands. "Come on. . . time for the 'advanced' course!!" "I don't think you can show me anything new, Babs.", yawned Supergirl but followed her friend back up onto the rocky platform, and stood waiting. "Let's try some things that you might not expect!", said Barbara, eyes twinkling in her mask. "Hold your arms up behind your head, please and grab your elbows, like you were resting!" "Like this?", offered Supergirl. "Perfect!!", answered Batgirl. "Now just hold that pose for a minute or two. . .", and with an air of mystery, the Dominoed Dare Doll set to work behind her friend. "Right!!", remarked Batgirl finally, turning Supergirl around. Then boldly reaching up to tweak the perfect nose of the Girl of Steel challenged, "Try to get out of THAT!" "Step back, Babs!", warned Supergirl, but Batgirl only smiled.

"Uh, Uh. . . You can't get out of this one! I want to see your face when you realize that lil' Batgirl can still show you a trick or two!!"

"Well. . . You asked for it.", Supergirl sighed as she slowly applied tension trying to judge the breaking tension so as to do the least damage. Although the rope(?) stretched slightly, it was surprisingly tenacious. Batgirl's grin broadened as Supergirl frowned, pulling harder. "While you're posing so nicely for me", began Batgirl, "perhaps you can answer a question that's been eating at me for a long time. Tell me, ‘Supergirl’. . . are those super-ribs. . . TICKLISH?!?!?" Babs gloved fingertips flew over the blue covered torso before her. To her surprised delight, Supergirl squealed and turned away!

Supergirl, having trouble tearing free from Batgirl's bindings was trying to turn her head to see what held her, but something seemed to have hold of her hair, too! She wasn't listening to Batgirl, and the attack on her supersensitive body came as a complete surprise. Already in a state of mild concern, the sudden jabs at her ribs triggered reflexes that she hadn't 'enjoyed' for years. At the same time, she was dimly aware of the very real damage she could do to her friend if she really lost control! The turmoil of conflicting urges boiling up inside the Kryptonian coupled with Batgirl's audacious frontal attack triggered a multitude of usually repressed reactions in that incredible body. She winced at every touch! Her nipples hardened with a nearly audible 'pop', making visible tents in her tunic. Her face grew hot. She felt her insides melt, her legs become wobbly, and she began to hiccup uncontrollably! "ST. .ST. .STOP!, (hic) STOP, BABS! (hic) Y. .Y. .YOU'RE (hic) IN DANGER!!!", shrieked the helpless victim, tied physically with some unknown super-bindings and mentally by the flood of newly revived, urgently clamoring reflexes threatening to overwhelm the self-control that she must keep in order to live with the much more fragile humans she had come to know and love. Batgirl, laughing and oblivious to her friend's warnings, chased her squealing, wincing, blushing target across the rocky stage, till both were gasping and shrieking incoherently. Babs suddenly stopped, took Supergirl firmly by the shoulders to steady her and laughed, "Think you're pretty fast, huh?!?. . . Trying to get away, huh?!?. . . Well, we'll see about that!!". With this, while Supergirl tried to catch her breath and bring that torrent of new feelings body under control, Batgirl's hands shot to her waist. Before the confused Maid of Might realized what was happening, her shorts had been unbuckled, jerked down and refastened tightly about her knees! Still trying to steady herself under the unexpected events of the past few minutes, now further confused by the audacity of this unexpected move, when a gleeful Batgirl mockingly pressed a finger against the blonde's nose, she simply toppled onto her back!

Batgirl, pounced on her supine friend, Straddling her thighs, gloved fingers flickering over the sculpted torso while her long auburn hair tormented freshly exposed muscular thighs, tummy and mound with its profusion of golden curls.

"STOP IT!! (hic) STOP IT!! (hic) YOU. . (hic). . YOU. . BRATGIRL!!", squealed the tormented blonde!

The Dominoed Dare Doll pulled up short, laughing. She rolled off of her wriggling victim, took off one golden glove, propped her head on her gloved hand. Then, looking into Kara's still unfocussed, fathomless blue eyes, lazily drew a manicured fingernail slowly along the junction of the bound girl's right thigh and abdomen, enjoying each gasp and wince she elicited. "BRATGIRL, is it?! You're not in any position to be calling names, are you?! Give up?!? Just admit that you've still got a lot to learn, and I'll let you up. . . or do I have to tie your ears to your toes and torture you till you can't see straight!!" "You don't understand. . ." began the overpowered powerhouse, but then acquiesced. "OK, you win. I can't see straight anyway! You're the 'Rope-master', the 'Sheena of Shackles', the 'Mistress of Mastic', the 'Queen of Binding', and a callipygian delight!" "What was that last one?!", queried a slightly suspicious Batgirl, her free hand now inside Supergirl's loose tunic, gently twisting a super-nipple slowly between thumb and finger. "It means you've got a BIG BUTT!!" stammered Supergirl between spasms, "NOW GET OFF ME!!"

"Oh. . . I'm not sure that was a nice enough surrender (or any surrender at all)!", teased the auburn-haired beauty, keeping up her assault on the defenseless nub.

"GET AWAY!!", growled Supergirl. With the determination that sometimes comes of despair, she took a deep breath, and blew Batgirl up and over the edge of the rock outcrop. Concern and contrition flooded her as she saw her friends boots disappear from sight, and these helped quench the fires burning in her, leaving her frustrated, confused, but back in control of herself. "Oh Babs!! (What've I done!!) ARE YOU ALRIGHT!!", she rolling over, trying to sit up, still unable to free her arms, and now hobbled at the knees as well. With no sound, her worry grew and finally she recovered enough composure to lift herself into the air and fly unsteadily toward the last spot where she had seen the Batgirl. Batgirl was lying on her back in the dust, a heap of arms and legs, shaking the fuzziness from her head and doing some serious reassessment as the still bound Maid of Might alighted near her right shoulder, dancing slightly to maintain balance as she did so. "I'm so sorry, Babs! Please tell me you're alright!. . .", pleaded the nearly distraught Girl of Steel.

Batgirl looked up over the glistening sculpted thighs (glistening?!) and washboard abs, between the enormous blue covered 'Grande Tetons' with their tented tips, to see the face of an angel, halloed in gold, near tears in her concern. "I'm OK, I guess.", she managed, then enjoying the view, she went on, "Let's call a truce. Relax so I can untie you and we can continue with the lesson." Batgirl had resumed her role of teacher. "There are several points to be made here. First, you can't always predict what will happen, but you have to be ready for it.", she began as she rolled lightly to her feet, turned a still unsure blonde around, and began the long process of freeing knots that had been seriously strained. "If some idiot gooses you on the stage and you hall off and slap him, you could slap his head off! This wouldn't exactly promote your image as the world's friend and protector!"

"Second, you think that Kryptonite and magic are the only things that you should worry about when actually there are lots of things that can really immobilize you! You carry them around with you!" Here she waved a golden strand of hair in front of Supergirl's face. "Here's the 'rope' you were tied with! . . ", she announced, ". . . and I bet that even though you should be able to rip up your clothing, being tied in it would slow you down a little! (Push your arms together, please. . .)" "Third, you can't afford to loose control! You could have KILLED me!", she cried. "(Bend back slightly. . . that's right.) "and Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth,. . . YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO LOOSE CONTROL!!", she emphasized with little tugs on that golden main, as she continued working on the knots, occasionally letting her eyes drop to admire the powerful buttocks jutting towards her own gooey, pulsing womanhood.

"AHH. . . finally!!", she announced as the last knot came free, and Supergirl sighed and slowly stretched. "That's good, now you work out the kinks while I set everything else straight!", ordered Batgirl as she stooped to release Supergirl's knees, instantly finding her wrists gripped in immovable Kryptonian shackles!

"Oh no you don't!!", warned Supergirl as she bent, grabbing Barbara's wrists and inadvertently, thrusting her naked ass into Batgirl's face. The startled, but ever opportunistic, Bat sent her tongue into the breach in a flanking action that brought a yelp from her super friend who dropped the wrists, slapped protecting steel-like fingers across her exposed rear and shot up into the air, finally out of reach!

"Honestly, Babs!. . . sometimes I don't know what to do with you!", chided a flustered Girl of Steel as she hovered just above the grinning Batgirl, working her pants free of her knees and back into place about her magnificent hips, to cover her treasures once again. Batgirl said nothing, just grinned evilly, enjoying the show.

"On second thought. . .", mused the now reassembled Maid of Might raising one eyebrow, ". . .Maybe I DO know what to do with you."

Before Batgirl could react, her world spun crazily, and her bottom burst into flame under the staccato machinegun like delivery of a steel-hard Kryptonian hand beating a tattoo on her upraised butt. Supergirl was ‘seated’ in the air a few feet above the ground effortlessly holding a struggling Caped Crime Fighter over her knees, swatting the purple clothed seat raised before her with a speed impossible for normal humans to deliver and nearly impossible for normal humans to endure, as Batgirl was rapidly discovering. Within seconds, the female scourge of Gotham's underworld was nothing but a helplessly kicking, squirming, screaming, pleading, little girl.

"OW!. . HEY!. . NO!. . STOP!. . OUCH!. . STOP!. . PLEASE!. . PLEEEAASE STOOOPP!!!", she sobbed.

"You didn't stop when I asked you to!", her assailant reminded her, but with one final slap that set her entire body a- jiggle, she relented, and lowered Batgirl to the ground by the collar of her costume.

The spanking had happened so quickly that Batgirl's body didn't have time to fully react to it, so the pain grew and flared even as she danced about, rubbing her bruised posterior through her costume, cursing. "OWOWOWOWOW!", she wailed. "That's worse than the whipping! I'll definitely wear my armor next time you're anywhere around!!"

Supergirl's heart melted, and she couldn't help but glide to the ground and take Batgirl (still sobbing and rubbing her much abused butt) into her arms for a long, gentle hug. "I'm sorry!. . . I'm sorry, Babs, but you do provoke, sometimes! Isn't there something we can do so we can live with and without hurting each other?!"

"Sure there is, sweetie.", sniffled a chastened Batgirl. "Let's just decide on a 'safe word'. If either of us uses it, the other will know that they've gone too far and will stop. How about 'fingers'. As little kids, we used to hold our hands up in class to get attention, or shout 'fingers' on the playground when one of us had been fouled. Just don't use it unless it's absolutely necessary, OK?!?"

"That might work. . .", replied Supergirl, thoughtfully. "I'll try it if you will!"

"Oh, Kara! Your a real sport!", exclaimed the recovered Batgirl, jumping to embrace her friend and capture her lips with her own. Supergirl was startled by this display of affection when she suddenly felt fingers brushing her crotch! She tried to utter a warning but had to laugh inwardly when she realized that Batgirl was effectively gagging her with her tongue. Quietly but firmly, she took hold of the Bat costume just between the lush breasts, and pushed her friend out to arms length, feet dangling inches above the ground. Then while Batgirl dangled, unsure of her fate, Supergirl, with a smirk, grasped the offending hand, held it up in front of Batgirl's face and clearly pronounced: "Fingers!". Batgirl released a relieved sigh, and laughed. Kara's musical contralto soon joined her friends in a duet of mirth that did much to clear the air

"That's the idea, Kara!", a relaxing 'Master Sargent' Batgirl complimented. "You're getting the idea! Now lets get back to work!” She turned to rummage around in the duffel for a pad and pencil. “Let's jot down some rules for contestants. First, they must bring their own bindings (so they can't use your stuff, like I did)! Second, we have to have a time limit for their tying (so no one has the time to become too familiar with you, like I did - the organizers may have come up with that one already)! In addition, I think there should be some sort of 'referee' near you at all times to make sure that no one takes unfair advantage of you (like I did)! But in the end, since we can't plan for everything with perfect assurance, YOU have to maintain control. YOU have to be able to hold yourself together,. . . at least as long as the contest lasts! YOU have to keep this uppermost in your mind at all times. YOU, of all people, can't afford to 'loose it' in front of the world! I think we need more work on this. I didn't realize you had any weaknesses, let alone being ticklish! We've got to determine your limits (so we can set the time limit for tying, if nothing else), and you've got to practice self control. . . toughen yourself up!!"

"Just what do you mean?", asked Kara, feeling control of the situation slipping from her grasp once again. "Are you planning to tie me up and tickle me until I can't take it any longer?!?" "Something like that. . .", replied a guarded Batgirl. "I won't try anymore tricks. . .", (Kara rolled her eyes at this), ". . . I'll just tie you in normal ropes and stuff, and then 'annoy' you, and you will try to hold out, as long as you can, without accidentally breaking the bonds (and certainly without spanking the 'annoyer')!"

". . . Well,. . . OK. . .", said Kara, dubiously, ". . . and I'll only use the safe word when I'm at my wits end, but if I use it you STOP immediately, or better yet, run like hell! Understand?!".

"Oh, I think I understand perfectly.", answered Batgirl, absentmindedly soothing her still smarting butt with one hand and her bruised tit with the other. "Well, let’s begin!", called Batgirl cheerfully. "Break's over!!"

("Here we go again.") sighed Supergirl inwardly. "OK. What's it to be this time?"

"Well. . . its going to be a pretty dull day if everybody ties you just standing there, so let's vary things a bit, shall we? How flexible are you?"

"What do you mean?", ask a puzzled Girl of Steel. "Well. . . for example, can you touch your toes without bending your knees?"

"That's easy!", remarked Kara, pressing her palms to the ground.

"Pretty good!", complimented a thoughtful Batgirl, admiring the way the bright red shorts were stretched by the enticing contours of the powerful buttocks they covered. "Now hug your knees!"

("Oh brother. . . she's incorrigible"), sighed Kara but wrapped her arms around her legs none-the-less, pressing her face between her knees.

"Great!!", enthused the purple clad coach. "How long can you hold it?!"

"As I said. . .", came the muffled reply, ". . . I'm very flexible, and this doesn't bother me at all. "I could hold it indefinitely. . .", she offered, then thinking better of it added, ". . . but I won't!"

"NO NO, just ten or twenty minutes should be plenty of time!" "Not a problem.", the muffled voice responded. "Now just bear with me while I tie your arms together with this clothesline, and then I'll add a few loops around your neck, chest and legs to make it look 'real'! OK. . . now, don't break anything while I begin 'annoying' you, OK?!" Supergirl had been expecting some sort of pat or slap to her shamelessly displayed, red covered bottom, but the delicate tickling that she suddenly felt took her off balance and she rocked a bit unsteadily. She let out a surprised, involuntary "Hey!", grimaced, shifted her legs a little, rocking her hips in a most provocative way, and frowned with concentration. "I can take it.", she growled. "Just what are you doing?" Batgirl had gathered her auburn tresses into a thick brush and was pressing the tips of the hair against Supergirl's leg, just above the knee. She was pleasantly surprised by the twitching she caused. "Just giving you the 'brush off'!", she laughed jauntily, and switched to the other leg. The twitching continued. Happy with that result, Batgirl switched tactics. Dropping her hair, she began moving a fingertip in lazy circles just above the knee on each leg. The circles slowly occasionally morphing to long spirals, reaching nearly to the cuff of the over stretched red shorts before slowly sliding down the inside of a sculpted thigh. Keeping this up for several minutes, Batgirl noted that the twitching seemed to have coalesced into a more coordinated squirming. Supergirl seemed to be breathing a little harder, the golden tresses pooled around her boots were swaying noticeably. "How're we doing?", asked Barbara. "Fine!", grunted The Maid of Might between gasps. "Not going to break any ropes, are we?" "NO!", gasped Kara. "You can take it, right?!", teased a now grinning Batgirl. "Right!", spat Kara. "Good!", breathed Barbara, her mouth less than an inch from Supergirl's moistening pudenda. When Barbara's hot breath enveloped that organ, it swelled noticeably, oozing nectar and releasing the nearly hypnotizing aroma of aroused Kryptonian. Behind her mask, Barbara's eyes glazed, her head moved forward and she suckled at that wondrous, musky, sweet, mesmerizing well of desire.

Supergirl hiccuped once, moaned, and began to squirm in earnest, muscles that could crush battleships rolling against the delicate fragility of her friend's body. As both girls neared the edge and tiny spasms began their dance deep inside Kara's belly, in a last gasp of coherent thought, she shouted: "RAO!! I DON'T THINK I CAN STAND THIS ANY LONGER!! FINGERS!! FINGERS!! BABS. . .RUN!!!" The earsplitting warning roused Barbara from the lust haze that enveloped her. Reflexes that had saved her life many times took over and launched her backwards. At the height of her flip, the vibrations that had been building crescendoed and ran up the scale like some crazy electronic music. There was a muffled explosion sending cotton shrapnel rattling against her back. She fell behind a boulder and felt the ground shake as the full power of Kara’s climax drove her into uncontrollable convulsions, lasting for minutes. Barbara lay on the roiling ground clutching earth, trying to keep from being thrown around like a toy. . . . And then suddenly, all was quiet. Barbara rose warily through the settling dust, not sure what had happened. Had they come under attack, a freak storm, an earthquake, or. . .? She made her way back, alarm replacing uncertainty as she now ran towards what looked like a crater in the rock where she and Supergirl had been. Her boots crrunched through course dust and pulverized rock. She reached the edge of the roughly five meter diameter meter deep indentation in the solid rock and her heart leapt as she saw her friend lying motionless at its bottom. "Ohmigod, Ohmigod, Ohmigod, let her be OK!", she repeated to herself as she charged into the hole and leapt to her friend's side. "Kara!!", she sobbed, "Speak to me!! Tell me you're OK!! What happened??!! KARA!!". Supergirl opened one eye, smiled serenely, and with tears in her eyes pulled Barbara to her and held the startled girl in a long soul searching kiss. Without knowing why, Barbara too broke into tears and for long minutes the two just held each other, thankful that neither had come to harm. "Babs!. . . That was WONDERFUL!", drawled a disheveled, sweaty, Supergirl with a glowing smile. ". . .Never do it again!", she added, dreamily. It was just dawning on Batgirl what had transpired. "Why you little minx!!", she scolded. "Why didn't you tell me!?!?" "I thought I did. . .", came the whispered reply. "Oh, Kara! I had no idea!", gushed Batgirl. "How could ANYONE have any idea. . .?" She picked up her friend's limp hand, and let it drop listlessly back to the earth. "It doesn't look as though you're going to be good for anything for a while. Let's close training for today, OK?" "Oh yes!", sighed a euphoric Girl of Steel, rolling her friend into her incredible arms and holding her, cheek to cheek, for a warm, gentle caress. "Uh,. . . Kara." "Yes, dear Babs?" "Do you think you can get us home?" "I'm sure I can, but give me a little time to recover HMMM, sweetie?" "Sure. I've got a little more picnic in the bag, and we do have a lot more planning. I think you need an agent, and I hereby offer my services. Who but a superheroine could be a proper agent for another superheroine. Let's talk strategy. . ." "Of course, my love.", whispered the sleepy Supergirl as she rested her head in her 'agent's' lap and let the words flow over her in a comforting, warm unintelligible shower. Later, the two friends shared their life's intimacies as they held each other through the deepening dessert sunset. When Supergirl finally recovered from the Kryptonian afterglow, she was a little disturbed at the turn things had taken. She began to apologize to Barbara, but the latter hushed her. Whether they would be lovers in the future, or simply remained friends. . . whatever happened, their friendship had expandeded this day, as had their understanding of each other. They would be there for each other, whenever needed. As Kara flew them back to Gotham through the cool dessert air, she realized that although she now felt prepared for her 'performance', it somehow didn't seem all that important anymore.

Interlude

After dropping Bab's off at the reservoir, Kara made her way home to Metropolis, arriving well after midnight. She spent a wonderful night full of lovely dreams in which friends she'd had on Argo, before coming to earth, met and danced with the new friends she'd made on Earth. It was a joining of lives that seemed to give her more peace than she had known in years. After awaking, when the old insecurities, doubts and questions began their insistent babble again, they were softer, less threatening than before. She was still developing her views of life, and was beginning to accept the awesome role her body played in these things. A new friend (and now a lover?) had recklessly pursued her, literally tied, subdued, had her way with her, and had forced on her the most wonderful, breathtaking, body ripping, heart stopping release she had ever experienced. More, she had lived to laugh about it through the languorous, warm, pink-foggy recovery and an excruciatingly beautiful dessert sunset. Maybe her new friends weren't so limited and fragile as she had come to believe. Maybe she could have a full life here on Earth, after all! During the next few weeks, although she and Barbara didn't have time to meet, they had a number of long phonecalls, some business calls addressing questions her 'agent' had about the upcoming charity event, and some steamy, late night, whispered verbal tete-a-tete's in which the two continued to explore each other's souls. Kara began collecting books, news articles, action figures, posters, and other paraphernalia celebrating the Batgirl mystique. On the Web, Kara discovered numerous sites devoted to the Dominoed Dare Doll, and to herself as Supergirl. Some were compilations of their accomplishments, but many had a dark side. Pictures of Batgirl nearly always included ropes or cords. She was often depicted as swinging on one, throwing one, or tying criminals. But on the 'darker' sites, these ropes were turned back on the Caped Crusader as 'manipulators' bound and humiliated her in a flood of imaginative ways. There were even web sites, which played the same dark games with Supergirl. To her surprise, these spoke to her nascent fantasies, which were just beginning to take root after the seeding experiences in the dessert. The impending 'binding competition' began to take on a whole new dimension in Kara's mind, which both frightened and excited her. When, a week before the event, it was announced that Batgirl would be the guest mistress of ceremonies her excitement and internal conflict increased markedly. Barbara had worked hard to flesh out the idea of the competition while keeping it safe for participants and audience as well. Her first hand knowledge of the incredible power of the beautiful 'main attraction', her familiarity with security matters, her organizational skills, and her personal charisma became obvious to the organizers of the event from her numerous phonecalls. With her insistence that she personally attend to matters at the event, she was the obvious choice for mistress of ceremonies/ringmaster. Barbara welcomed this position, and had a security booth built just offstage so that she could watch the building as well as events on stage. Keeping her own life on track, while putting in full time preparing for the big event gave her little time for personal matters. Unfortunately, this meant that she didn't have time to meet personally with Kara until just before the performance. When the two finally met backstage, just hours before the curtain was to open, she realized what an oversight ignoring her personal feelings had been. Kara was nearly shaking with conflicting feelings. Being with her again warmed her heart and triggered those old warm, gooey feelings they had shared in the dessert. It also made her realize what a strain the poor teenager had been under these last few weeks. She immediately embraced the Girl of Steel and made it her primary occupation of the moment to reassure the incredible Kryptonian youngster. Barbara took Kara on a whirlwind tour of the building, with emphasis on security: Kryptonite detectors, metal detectors, explosive sniffers, and X-ray viewers at every entrance. A multitude of video cameras monitored by an army of security people kept watch for any unusual activity, all supervised by Batgirl at her offstage booth. "Just relax, Kara!", Barbara soothed. "It's not really a contest! It's not a fight! No one's going to get hurt, or even embarrassed! We all get a little stage fright just before something this big, but everyone's here to have a good time for a good cause! I'm here to help, and I know that if you just relax and smile, you and all your fans will have a wonderful time!!" "As wonderful as the dessert!", grinned Kara softly, blushing. "Maybe there are some things about the dessert that you shouldn't be thinking of, right now!", warned Barbara, poking a blue clad steel shoulder. "Lets think about that tomorrow, when this is all over!!" Kara looked up and smiled broadly, took a deep breath, and said with resolve, "I think with that in my future I can get through anything. I'm ready!"

ON WITH THE SHOW!

It seemed that all Metropolis was celebrating! The Lex Luthor Technical High School Jazz Band played as the cheerful throng rapidly filled the 28,000 seat Metropolis Civic Center. Huge lights hung on multi-ton platforms suspended from the gracefully arching dome made the interior of the enormous structure nearly as bright as the early summer noon outside. Carefully conditioned cooling breezes ruffled the colorful fifty meter long banners draped over the crowd, each banner extolling the prowess of the Metropolis baseball, hockey, football, and soccer teams, all of which called the huge stadium home. Although everyone had an unimpeded view of the stage, enormous video screens had been mounted at strategic locations to give each person a close-up view of the action. A heavy transparent bulletproof enclosure built of 10-inch thick glass and plastic was installed center stage. TV cameras were mounted cleverly out of sight in low enclosures just at the edge of the platform. A long steel ramp had been set in place to allow access to the stage from a setup room in the northern quadrant of the building. Peddlers moved through the gathering, hawking everything from popcorn to Superhero action figures to souvenir plaques bearing a relief of the two superheroines, the logo of the hospital and bordered with a uniquely braided golden bit of rope. The mayor greeted the enthusiastic crowd, briefly, and then, very aware that it wasn't interested in windy speeches, stuffed his notes back into his pocket, waived toward the huge oval entrance at the head of the ramp and shouted: "YOUR MISTRESS OF CEREMONIES, . . .BATGIRL!!!" In the ready room, the Costumed Crime Fighter, heard her cue, gave her friend's arm a last reassuring squeeze and then swung through the entrance on a cord that had been emplaced hours before, just skimming the ramp and alighting stage center to roars of approval. As she waived toward the apex of the dome, her voice, picked up by her hidden microphone, boomed through the vast enclosure: "WE ALL KNOW WHY WE'RE HERE!. . . LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. . . YOUR FIRST CITIZEN. . . S U P E R G I R L! ! !" A tiny red and blue figure, previously hidden above the lights at the dome's apex detached itself to float in an unnaturally slow controlled free descent to the platform next to the purple and yellow clad Caped Crusader. The multitude rose to its feet and for a full five minutes filled the cavernous structure with their deafening greeting. Batgirl raised Supergirl's hand in a salute to her fans and Supergirl, partly recalling Batgirl's advice, and partly as a simple reaction to the cheers, just beamed, rewarding those in attendance with a smile to stir their hearts. In their excitement, both girls missed the few faces, scattered here and there about the great arena, which were not smiling. These had come to observe and measure their opponent. Each hoped to note some weakness upon which they could capitalize. They wouldn't attempt anything at this event (and risk being torn apart by a crazed mob?!?!?), but this was a chance to see one of their most dangerous enemies performing at close range. What a priceless opportunity! When the crowd had finally settled into their seats and the thunder subsided to a dull rumble, Batgirl read the title of the first contestants from her program. "METROPOLIS CORD AND CABLE HAS BROUGHT A GIFT OF FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR OUR HOSPITAL ALONG WITH A SAMPLE OF THEIR TOUGHEST SUSPENSION BRIDGE CABLE FOR OUR HEROINE!! PLEASE GIVE THEM A BIG HAND!!!" Five husky men in hardhats sauntered down the ramp followed by a forklift carrying several coils of shiny steel cable, about an inch thick. While Supergirl stood at attention beaming at the crowd like a magician's assistant, the men wrestled the cable off the forklift and laboriously wrapped the Maid of Might at chest, waist, knees and ankles. The coils were levered tight and ends fastened together. Her arms were held tightly to her sides. With the added weight of the steel cable, the men used the forklift as a crane, lifting the Girl of Steel by a loop spliced into the upper coils, moving her into the safety cabinet. When the impossibly bound beauty was lowered to the floor, balanced on her feet, and the massive door closed, the escape began. Batgirl, starting a huge clock, announced: "SUPERGIRL HAS BUT FIVE MINUTES TO FREE HERSELF!! CAN SHE DO IT?!?!?" Supergirl, smiling as ever, seemed to squirm a little (to get the feel of the cable?) then set her brow and began to strain. With less than seven seconds on the big clock, there seemed to be an explosion inside the cage, sending bits of cable bounding about the interior of the enclosure! While the audience still held its breath, the blur in the box resolved itself into a blonde athlete, arms above her head in triumph, legs straight and strong, relaxed, not even breathing hard, and with a sunny smile, posing among the still rattling pieces of cable, like a fantasy gymnast just having dismounted from a triumphant but strangely effortless display on the parallel bars. Batgirl nodded her approval, held her hand up and the crowd came to their feet for another prolonged standing ovation! Supergirl opened the safety cage and graciously shook hands with each of the men who had tried to bind her, as stagehands cleaned up the booth for the next test. Supergirl was beginning to feel the butterflies in her stomach settle down. Batgirl too, sensed that she was beginning to relax, and felt her own internal pressure lighten. There were many contestants, so Batgirl hurried on. All went well for the first 40 minutes. Supergirl was really 'getting into it', even flirting with the contestants and crowd as she seemed to offer more daring positions for her binding: Elbows bound together behind her back by the Metropolis Loyal Order of Police exaggerating the jut of her incredible breasts. (The special hardened steel cuffs were junk within a fraction of a second.) Wrists bound to ankles with specially prepared chain from Metropolis' shipyards. (molten slag in seconds as she brought her heat vision to play.) Hog-tied and suspended in the center of the safety booth by bands of strapping levered into place by huge teamsters. (Snapped like plastic.) Both girls were enjoying themselves when things suddenly began to go awry. Metropolis Machine and Foundry - Artillery Division had arranged for a spectacular display of both Supergirl's prowess and their own advanced technology. They trundled out several large forms of ceramic much like a low wastebasket standing in the center of a tub, and invited the Girl of Steel to stand in the center of the smaller container. Supergirl stepped into the smaller tub and waited as a curious looking machine made its way down the ramp. In spite of its heavy insulation, the air near the portable crucible wiggled the light passing through it to distort the sweating driver. People near the ramp moved back in their seats as the heat reached out for them. The visibly steaming machine rolled up to the smiling blonde while the foreman leaned in to tell her what was going to happen and ask her permission. The Girl of Steel grinned her acquiescence like a kid accepting candy from a friend, and the 'shackling' began. Incandescent metal poured from the machine into the crucible in which the Maid of Might stood, until she was nearly knee deep in white-hot liquid gunmetal. Supergirl joked with the crew as the pouring proceeded, moving her legs slightly like a bather testing the water in a pool. She was in a mischievous mood and as Batgirl described the toughness of the metal she was standing in, she ostentatiously yawned, stretched her arms above her head, and slowly, bending at the waist only, lowered them into the pool of viscous metal. The crew laughed appreciatively and the crowd cheered its approval, as Batgirl rolled her eyes thinking, "Kara seems to be just a wee bit drunk on all the excitement. I hope she can last!" Throughout the binding process, Supergirl and the crew had been exchanging quips. The foreman was hosing down the metal plug to speed the cooling when he forgot himself and with some jocular comment about 'red flags before bulls', brought the high pressure stream to bear on the invitingly upraised bottom and red clothed pubes waving before him. Supergirl gasped and colored, but managed to mostly maintain her composure as the big man, suddenly contrite, apologized, and some in the audience made rude remarks. Batgirl's sharp eyes noted however, that Supergirl's face was redder than could be explained by the dying light of the cooling metal, her nipples had become erect and there was a faint but unmistakable musky sweet aroma of aroused Kryptonian in the air. "Oh my God!. . .", she thought. ". . .what did I do to you in that dessert, Kara?! Have you become some kind of bondage slut?!?!?" This escape wasn't nearly as explosively spectacular as her earlier displays. The beautiful blonde seemed slightly distracted as she worked her limbs (and that incredible sculpted ass) in the now cooled, solid metal. She extracted them, one by one, then stooped to trace her name in the surface of the tough metal with the tip of her finger. She lifted the plug, pressed it to her lips, leaving an unmistakable indentation, and set it down, smiling seductively. A blushing foreman and his somewhat subdued crew levered the quarter ton of metal onto a forklift and withdrew with their trophy. Batgirl's worry was well founded! Metropolis Chemical arrived onstage to encase Supergirl in a new potting compound. Showing off, Supergirl positioned herself at the center of their tank, arms outstretched and legs split like those of a ballerina at the apex of a leap. Her feet extended through two holes she had poked in either side of the potting container. When the material had been poured and the intense UV light finished the cross-linking, the mold fell away to reveal the beautiful golden- haired heroine fixed in her action move like some huge paperweight. Only her head and feet were free. Supergirl smiled to all as her prison was maneuvered into the safety booth, but as the crew turned to leave, one of the men, emboldened by Supergirl's friendly attitude and the earlier familiarity taken by the Machine and Foundry foreman, wrestled one of the blonde's boots off, and commenced tickling her left foot! Supergirl, who had grown complacent during the past hour, squealed and began to laugh. With reports like gunshots, the plastic began to spall and crack, sending grenade sized bits ricocheting off the safety glass. With a yell of alarm, Batgirl grabbed the tickler, now frozen with fear, dragged him to safety, and heaved the door closed just as the casting gave way. The Maid of Might ended on her hands and knees, head down, gasping in a pile of transparent shards. Although she had easily escaped, she had momentarily lost control, and was not at all the vision of triumph she had been. Barbara was glad that there were only two more contests, both of which, thankfully, seemed rather tame. How wrong she was. . . Two senior Girl Scouts, representing all of Metropolis' clubs undertook the penultimate contest. Batgirl thought at first that they were only demonstrating their knot tying ability but soon realized that they had something else on their devious little minds. The two athletic girls in the full flower of youth, full of 'vim and vinegar' (as one of their grandfather's had remarked) were double-teaming the superheroines! As they rapidly and expertly fastened Supergirl's elbows and wrists together behind her back, one lifting her cape while the other tied, they cleverly used their bodies to block Batgirl's view of their real purpose. Young but surprisingly experienced hands explored the super body they were immobilizing. The striking native American girl with the long black hair and muscular calves was caressing Supergirl's upper thighs and bottom in synchrony with her blonde friend's hidden assault on the super nipples, hardening with excitement. Batgirl became aware that something was amiss only when she heard Supergirl panting, saw her slightly open mouth and unfocussed, surprised eyes. The two Scouts were giggling together, enjoying their control over the world's most powerful girl when Batgirl stepped up warning, "OK, girls. . . you're about finished, aren't you?" The blonde imp winked at her dark-haired conspirator, stepped back from the bound and now squirming Princess of Power, remarked, "Just about!", then pressed herself against a shocked Batgirl muffling her protests with a kiss full of insistent tongue! Her wild companion stood behind the quivering Girl of Steel, boldly pressed two fingers into the cleft between Supergirl's muscular buttocks and pudenda, and flicked her tongue into her victim's left ear. "Fingers!!", gasped Supergirl in dismay. Both superheroines were momentarily frozen by the effrontery of the attack, and even Batgirl briefly lost it, feeling her legs turn to rubber, her breasts strain against purple spandex, and her belly melt with the knowledge that both she and Supergirl were the victims of an unexpected 'child's' prank! Fortunately, when she felt the vibrations of the Girl of Steel beginning to build, Babs had the presence of mind to kick the two young miscreants tumbling out of the booth, and shouted "CONTROL, KARA!. . . CONTROL!. . . TAKE IT EASY!" The audience never knew the danger they were in. They watched the unusual drama play out as a building climax nearly consumed the confused Maid of Might, then passed and subsided to thrum in the background, confusing and unnerving the frustrated Maid of Might and unsettling her purple clad rescuer. Batgirl congratulated the sweating, gasping, slowly squirming blonde on her ability to keep from breaking the light rope with which she was bound, further calming the poor girl. After a few deep breaths, Supergirl was able to slowly pull her arms apart, ripping the rope, strand by strand, demonstrating incredible control. The audience wasn't sure exactly what had happened but took it in good humor. Batgirl caught up with the Scouts as they were returning up the ramp, straightening their uniforms as they went. "We have some unfinished business, ladies!", she growled. "Oh, how nice!", whispered the blonde. "We'll be waiting backstage. . .", promised the indian, seductively. They made their way up the ramp, giggling, leaving a flustered Batgirl thinking, "Well that went well! What is with kids these days?!", as she returned to the stage. The last donation had been arranged through Metropolis City University. A certain Professor Sam Merriweather, otherwise unidentified, wanted to try an experimental fiber on the Kryptonian. Barbara relaxed, wondering if 'old man' Merriweather even knew how to tie a knot, and looked forward to some comic relief and the end of what had become a somewhat disturbing afternoon. She wanted to 'relieve' her friend (and herself, too!), with some much needed 'down time' together! It couldn't come too soon! After reading the introduction, Batgirl looked up and was taken aback by the form descending the ramp. Prof. Samantha Merriweather was not the usual academic. The rather short scientist had an unusually well endowed figure (38-DDD at least, tiny waist, muscular legs flashing below a very short gray business suit, broad, powerful ass flexing provocatively as she advanced somewhat unsteadily on four inch pumps) and was obviously in very good condition, but unaccustomed to being the center attraction at any gathering. None-the-less she frowned gamely through her wide, wire framed glasses and proceeded, glossy black hair swinging at her back seemingly dusting her impressive buttocks with each step. She carried a large shoulder bag. The awkward but intense young woman shook Batgirl's hand when she reached the stage, then moved toward a gawking Supergirl. Much less brusque than she had been with Batgirl, Sam took Supergirl's hand, breathing quietly, "I'm so honored to finally meet you, Supergirl! I have admired you from afar for years, and can't believe I'm finally meeting you in the flesh!" There was a little of the eager fan in her demeanor, but the softening body language and the way she whispered the word 'flesh' set the two already aroused Superheroine's a-tingle. While Supergirl nodded, not sure how to respond, Samantha knelt at her feet to open her bag. She withdrew a quarter inch thick strand of golden cord, astonishingly matching the color of the tresses of the Girl of Steel! She stumbled in her heels as she rose, but then gently turning Supergirl with a light pressure on her arm set to binding her. The surprisingly beautiful Professor had clearly practiced her moves as she rapidly wove the golden cord about the still befuddled Girl of Steel, looping and tying. Her arms were again tied tightly behind her back, wrists knotted together and pulled down to press into her super ass. The cord was knotted around her waist then allowed to dangle between her legs. With a second strand, the young wizard worked rapidly down Supergirl's legs, looping and knotting until the blond bombshell resembled a brightly colored salami! As she worked, she surreptitiously made use of her delicate fingertips, teasing hair, and wanton tongue to explore, arouse and even taste the incomparable body she was tying. The Maid of Might was soon floating through the most excruciatingly arousing fantasies, slowly loosing touch with the events transpiring in the vast stadium, her little gasps and whimpers simultaneously exciting and worrying her agent and protector, Batgirl! Samantha brought the loose end between Supergirl's legs up and tied it off at her elbows, leaving a long loop. Both Superheroines were so enthralled that they were taken by surprise when the Doctor hooked this loop to a thin gold strand that had descended from the center of the dome, and signaled a hidden coworker who started a winch pulling the crotch rope tightly into The Maid of Might's hidden treasures and lifting her off the ground. Supergirl's head flew back in surprise! Samantha held it there by pressing her breasts into Supergirl's face, and quickly fastened some strands of Supergirl's own golden hair into the nest of rope at her elbows. The unexpected stimulation of her nether regions and the smell and feel of the good doctor's soft but insistent body sent Supergirl into a mental tailspin. When Samantha stepped back to fish around once more in her bag, her giddy victim was trying to find her voice. Supergirl was just beginning to gasp out "F. . .F. . Fin. . ", when something pinched her left nipple, sending bolts of excitement ricocheting through her vibrating flesh, setting off little spasms and stopping her in mid syllable, mouth agape. "Oh, thank you!", whispered the Professor as she stuffed a ball of knotted cord into Supergirl's gaping mouth and rapidly tied it behind her head. She then proceeded to check her knots, caressing knots and Supergirl alike, running her fingers over every inch of cord and the flesh underneath it. Even the audience, deathly still, seemed hypnotized by the sight of the squirming beauty trussed like a piece of meat swinging provocatively before them. Finally, with an unbidden kiss on the cheek, a whispered, "Good luck!", and a shake of the crotch rope, the Professor slipped out of the booth and shut the door. She then pressed her nose against the smooth transparent wall to watch. Batgirl shook herself, started the big clock and announced, "YOU MAY BEGIN, SUPERGIRL!!" Supergirl had already begun, but, Batgirl worried, she didn't seem to be trying to free herself. She was squirming, muscles flexing uncontrollably as she began vibrating and drooling around the rope gag. Suddenly the suspended beauty, slowly rotating before the multitude at the end of her rope in more ways than one convulsed, blurred into activity, then convulsed again! She flipped about like some incredible fish on a line! If she had been in contact with the stage those antics would have pulverized it! As it was, of the immeasurable energy she expended, the tiny fraction of it that was conducted to the building's structure through the suspending cord was enough to rattle the entire structure. The Kryptonian's involuntary efforts built to a crescendo of blurring activity interspersed with seconds during which she seemed frozen in space as every muscle of that amazing body contracted at maximum tension. When she finally began to quiet down, her still tied and suspended body now incandescent with the remnants of her incredible ordeal, she heard through the fog that threatened to envelop her mind a worried Batgirl screaming, "Supergirl!. . . Supergirl!. . . snap out of it!!! Look at the ceiling!!! THE LIGHTS!!. . .THE LIGHTS!!!" Though still tied, despite her incredible exertions, her mouth still stuffed with rope, despite her super bite, and her head still tied to her elbows staring at the ceiling, she tried to focus bleary eyes above her. In alarm she realized that her spasms had apparently weakened the supports of one of the thirteen ton lighting platforms, which was threatening to fall into the crowd below. In haste, she gave her bonds one last heave and then, surrendering to the rope but not to the situation, still wrapped up like a sausage, she burst through the roof of the safety booth, flying somewhat unsteadily toward the tottering platform. Just as the enormous erector set assembly of girders tore from its anchors, sparks spitting from broken junctions, cables snapping and metal screaming, the Maid of Might brought her trussed legs up in front of her, positioned herself under what she hoped would be the center of mass of the crazy structure and eased up to catch it!! Fortunately the cord that connected her to the dome was long enough! Fortunately the platform didn't break apart when it settled into her tiny (in comparison) form. Fortunately she was able balance the thing until she had descended (backwards!) to the stage! By luck, and the skill and sheer heroism of this mere girl of Krypton and Metropolis, no one was hurt that day!

Epilog

Batgirl danced over the creaking girders to her still suspended friend. Professor Samantha Merriweather kicked off her heels, raised her skirt for better mobility and arrived at nearly the same time. Both women worked feverishly to free the groggy heroine of the day. When the last knot yielded, Supergirl flopped to the stage then hoisted herself up to sit awkwardly on a massive girder. She smiled sleepily and waived. The audience, which had been waiting in shocked silence, upon realizing that they had just been witness to an incredible display of genuine heroism of the most imaginative level (although still not sure why Supergirl had chosen to remain bound) erupted in such a raucous cacophony of applause, screaming, whistling and stamping that Barbara worried that another lighting platform might be jarred from its moorings! The celebration went on for long minutes. When it finally ended, Batgirl had to announce that the last contestant had actually succeeded in binding the Girl of Steel, that the Hospital donations had doubled in that instant and that Supergirl would graciously attend a photo shoot with the winner. Everyone was ecstatic with this turn of events. Even Supergirl, still wallowing groggily in the euphoric haze of Kryptonian afterglow greeted the news with a warm smile and glowing eyes! Even those eyes that had followed the events with malicious intent were bright with renewed hope. Supergirl had displayed unexpected vulnerability, and a new weapon capable of subduing their hated enemy was revealed. This was a bright day, indeed. One scribbled a note next to Prof. Merriweather's name in the program, stuffed the paper into her sleeve, and let the crowd carry her out of the building into the still bright sun of day! Things would be different, now! Samantha and Supergirl were brought together for the ending photo. The professor wickedly looped Supergirl's wrists together with her unbelievable cord, as a symbol of her victory. Camera's flashed, and slowly the great manmade cavern began to empty. Samantha collected her cord, stowed it in her bag, and made her way back toward the setup room to retrieve the length that had suspended the Maid of Might from the dome. Batgirl first saw to it that Kara was given a private room where she could lie down for an hour or so and then went after the good doctor. She found her in the parking lot placing the bag of cord in the trunk of her car. Barbara quietly came up behind the Professor. Glancing around to reassure herself that the lot was nearly empty and no one was near, she rapidly pulled Samantha's coat down, immobilizing her arms, stuffed a gag in her mouth and clipped it behind her head, cuffed her at wrists and ankles, tipped her into her own trunk and slammed it shut. Picking up the keys from where they had fallen, she got in and drove deep into the western forest on the outskirts of the great city. There she stopped, yanked a frightened, angry, disheveled professor out of the trunk, held her up against a tree and quietly began: "We're far enough from civilization so that no one will hear your screams. Will you behave if I remove the gag?" Samantha nodded angrily, and then sighed and worked her jaw as the gag came out. "You have no right. . .", she began, petulantly. "I have every right!", hissed the angry Batgirl. "You, a complete unknown, has just overpowered the most powerful woman on the planet! But you weren't just tying Supergirl, you were raping her! What are you after?!?! You may be more dangerous than Hitler! Who and what the hell are you?!?!" "I don't have to answer to you!", spat back Samantha! "No. . .", sighed Batgirl. ". . .and I don't have to beat you to death. . . but I will if you don't open up! For example. . .", she began. Batgirl roughly jerked Samantha's skirt up to her waist and her panties to her knees, leaving the lacy black garter belt and sheer hose in place. Then, cutting a springy branch from a nearby bush, began switching Samantha's exposed buttocks unmercifully. Though outwardly severe, inwardly she mused, while following the stumbling crying Samantha raining blows on her delectably straining posterior, "(Oh, how I love this job!)" It wasn't long before Samantha, sobbing and pleading submitted and Batgirl grudgingly relented. Holding the hysterically sobbing girl gently, Barbara tried to sooth her, stroking her shaking back and fiery buttocks, until the gasping sobs subsided into wails and then to sniffles. Barbara lowered her to a mossy rise and made her as comfortable as she could be, still cuffed and shackled. "OK,. . .OK. . . just don't hit me any more!! I'm just what the program said, Associate Professor Samantha Merriweather of the Chemical Engineering Department of Metropolis City University. My main interest is nanomachines and their use in creating new compounds. Each machine I’ve developed is capable of catching a single atom and then inserting it, in concert with a crew of others, into a growing molecule. With the right template, I can make nearly anything! "A couple of years ago, after Supergirl had a run-in with one of those Supervillians, I searched the site of the altercation and came up with one golden hair. Since I couldn't cut it or burn it, I deduced that the energies unleashed must have somehow detached it from Supergirl. I took it to my lab and after more trouble than I want to go into here, using that one hair as a template, I managed to make more. It's amazing stuff!! Before the molecule is complete its as fragile as any of ours, but when the last atom slips into place, it somehow (I don't know how, yet) becomes incredibly tough, almost as though it were acting as an antenna tuned to energies we don't yet understand, using them as a structurally toughening matrix!! We don't know much about it yet but it seems to have lots of possibly useful properties, including incredible tensile strength, very low friction and possibly even localized superconductivity!! "Anyway. . . the raw materials aren't expensive but I don't have a very big grant and was only able to make a small amount of the stuff. . . the rope I brought to the show. It has incredible potential. . . it will make possible new cutting machines, new understanding of tribology,. . .even suspension bridges to space!! I want to set up a company to manufacture, study and exploit the wonderful substance. I'll even share the profits with you and Supergirl! We'll all be rich!! "Just don't hit me again. . .", she added meekly. "And why did you try to rape Kar. . ., uh, I mean, Supergirl?", growled Batgirl. "Just what kind of freak are you??" "(My kind?)", she wondered, wryly. "Oh, please forgive me. Even under normal conditions my libido always seems to be in overdrive! I can't help it! I'm gooey right now!", she wailed. Batgirl glanced down past swelling blouse along the flat belly to the glistening junction of luscious thighs. She reached out, slowly inserting a gloved finger between Samantha's lower lips. It sent a shiver through the bound beauty, driving out a gasp and a delicious moan. The glove came back soaked with her heady nectar. "You certainly are!. . .", observed Batgirl. "(Maybe we can do something about that later!)", she thought, a little dizzy from the smell. Samantha moaned again and then went on, ". . .but Supergirl is something special. . ." "(Don't I know it!)", mused Batgirl. ". . .I've been working with a part of her for nearly two years, I have fanaticized about her for longer than that, and when I was finally with her, and she actually seemed to welcome my attention, I guess I just lost it! I really want to be friends. . . even to work together. . . with both of you. . . I never wanted to hurt anyone!!", she wailed. "Now calm down!", snapped the Bat. "You're going to need us both, and more, besides. Even if you destroy all your machines, samples and notes, there are criminals, terrorists, rogue countries, maybe even agencies of our own government that will be after you just to get an idea of how to do what you did. Your life won't be worth a plug nickel if you try to go back!. . . I don't know myself what to do with you!" "(Well, I do, but that won't help matters!)", that devilish little part of her mind added. "Maybe setting up a company to make and study the stuff wouldn't be a bad idea. If everyone had access to the stuff, you, personally, might not be such a hot commodity, and the super types should be able to adjust! (There's plenty of rope around that can bind me, and I get along!)", she mused. "Here, lets get you out of those cuffs. . .", she added compassionately. ". . . but no funny stuff, or they go right back on!"

The awful implications of the day's events began to sink in as she thought over what Batgirl had said. Samantha realized sadly that her comfortable academic life was over. It was probably the best thing that Batgirl had captured her. Certainly it was better than being at the mercy of one of the horrible people to whom Batgirl had alluded! It also made her aware how vulnerable she was!

Night had fallen by the time Batgirl had driven back to the stadium with Samantha lying on the back seat. Leaving an alarm with Samantha, Batgirl stole into the huge Civic Center and found her friend asleep where she had left her. She roused the sleeping beauty and explained the situation as they made their way back to the waiting car. Opening the door, they startled the cowering Samantha, then in whispers planned the next few days. They would take Samantha, her laboratory and samples to a safe house and enlist other Superheroes in deciding how to continue. They drove out of the city and stopped on a quiet stretch of road. There, one girl got out, lifted the car with its occupants and flew off quietly into the night.