Revenge of the Ogg Couple

Revenge of the Ogg Couple

Part 1

Olga looked back in the mirror of their getaway van. The inconspicuous white and yellow van swerved down the narrow alleyway and around the corner to another through fare. She clucked and hissed a curse in Bessarovian.

“I think we have picked a Bat-nick Bat-chick, Eggy. We need to lose-ski her, quicksi.” Olga leaned over the wheel of the van and prepared to take evasive action. “Ve don't need to have her tell every politski in Gotham and that otherwise delicious batman show up at our hide-out..”

“Fear not my dear, this has all been part of my egg-squisite plan to egg-sterminate those caped clods once and for all. I have been well aware that Batgirl has been following us since we left the museum with the Scimitar of Samarcan and the Golden Egg of Ogg.” Egghead continued to pay close attention to the metal box roosting on his knees. “You see, this device has been egg-spertly scrambling all radio transmission for a mile in every direction. Let Batgirl follow us.... She will arrive at our hideout alone and without the two dynamic dimwits having any idea where she is or even that she has been hot on our trail.”

“But Eggy, won't she just turn around and head off to tell Bat-bushka in person?” Olga swerved recklessly through the streets, her loyal Cossacks rolling from side to side in the back of the van.

“I have alerted Fu-Young and Benedict to close the gate to the courtyard of the egg white processing plant.

The getaway van screeched through the gates of the defunct Gotham Egg-Cream Corporation with the Batgirl cycle in hot pursuit.

Barbara skidded to a halt inside the gates of the factory. For the entire ride from the museum, Barbara had tried to raise the GCPD on her radio and alert them to the return of Olga and Egghead to Gotham. Barbara looked over her shoulder just in time to see two of Egghead’s lackeys close the ironwork gates of the factory behind her and take up positions to prevent her exit.

From the back of the van spilled four of Olga’s Bessarovian Cossacks. each one drew his scimitar and spread into a semicircle in front of Batgirl. Barbara stepped clear of her Batgirl-cycle, her mind going through the calculations on which of the Cossacks she could take down most quickly.

She looked at the largest of the group, easily over six foot five, he did not look particularly quick. If he hit her with his blade, he would almost certainly cut her in half and end the fight in seconds. Barbara knew from experience, big seldom equaled speed and that was her ace. Once she took him down, she would be armed with his blade and the odds would be down to four on one.

Olga was extremely good with a sword, but she would have had trouble recruiting proper thugs from the population of Bessarovian emigres in Gotham. Egghead might have gas bombs and his two thugs, but she was confident when face with a pissed off woman with a sword, the thugs would flee and Egghead would be on his knees begging for his life and whatever punishment Batgirl might choose to inflict (that was kind of his thing, she had learned over time…).

The ring of men closed around Batgirl. Olga and Egghead clamored from the front of the van, Egghead cowering safely behind Olga and her razor sharp blade.

“Batgirl!” Egghead shouted from behind the circle of encroaching swordsmen. “You had better give up now and spare yourself a lot of suffering…. It’s eight against one.”

“You mean six against one” Barbara corrected him.

Barbara wasn’t even waiting for Egghead to finish his reply, she had been angling into position as the Bessarovian Cossacks, each in their color traditional silk robes moved cautiously to close the gap with the lone heroine.

With her lightning quick reflexes, Barbara punched the biggest of the Cossacks in the group hard in the throat.

He reflexively dropped his blade and clutched his throat, unable to draw his next breath. Before his sword hit the ground, Barbara had grabbed it mid-air and immediately clopped the next man in line with the flat of her blade. Killing him was not something she was willing to do, but she had no qualms about the concussion and a possible ruptured eardrum.

Barbara glanced over her shoulder as she saw Egghead’s two long time thugs, Fu Young and Benedict vacate their posts as soon as they saw the two large and heavily armed Bessarovians hit the ground.

“Correction Egghead, four against one” Barbara turned to face Olga and Egghead. She would need to take care of the two remaining Cossacks before Olga, but facing their boss would have a chilling effect on them. They would get the message that Batgirl had no fear of them. That implicit confidence would make them hesitate. That hesitation was Barbara’s edge.

“No, Batgirl… Eight against one…” Egghead sniggered with confidence. “Or should I say twelve against one.” At that moment four women stepped out of doorways from the surrounding buildings. Each dressed in a replica of her Batgirl costume and each carrying a Bessarovian scimitar. Following each of the Batgirls was another Batgirl also armed with lethal looking scimitars.

“Let me egg-splain, Batgirl. You are now officially a prisoner of the Bessarovian Consul! Drop your weapon before you face a Bessarovian Saber Dance with unfrosted swords” Egghead made sure that he spoke from behind Olga and her two Cossacks.

“Sorry Egghead, but you and your Cossacks are going to have to dance for your supper this time!” Barbara had been working on her sword play since her last confrontation with the Bessarovians. She didn’t really think she would best Olga and her Cossacks, backed up by eight more armed Batgirls, but she was hoping some might flee like Egghead’s goons if she could take down a couple of them quickly.

“Oh Batgirl, must you make everything so complicated?” Egghead was never a fan of a fair fight, but the memory of holding a razor sharp sword to her throat was getting him hard and he had no intention of his prey escaping.

“Batgirl, I was so hoping to to take you alive and struggling, but you seem intent on egg-asperating me…” Egghead pulled an egg from inside his white tuxedo. “I guess we’ll just have to settle for alive and unconscious…” He hurled the egg over the heads of his circling fighters. It landed at Barbara’s feet, splattering. A yellow yolk like substance instantly reacted with the runny whites and emitted flames and a thick yellow smoke.

Barbara immediately started to gag on the fumes. She dropped her sword and sank to her knees, clutching her mouth as she toppled to the ground, unconscious.

“Eggy, I vanted to have some fun…. You ruin traditional saber dance.” Olga motioned for her gang to sheath their weapons.

“Don’t worry, Olga, my love… Batgirl will prove the most entertaining egg-cellent manner in a most traditional Bessarovian style.” Egghead walked through group Bessarovians cut-throats to the fallen heroine. He, with some trouble hoisted, her over his shoulder and carried her to the waiting van. Olga and the four Cossacks climbed into the van while two of the ‘Batgirls’ moved the Batgirl-cylce discreetly inside one of the buildings.

BATGIRL AN UNWILLING AND UNCONSCIOUS GUEST OF THE BESSAROVIAN CONSUL? OLGA AND EGGHEAD BACK IN GOTHAM? HOW EGG-CITING! HOW EGG-SPLICIT
WHAT FIENDISH FATE AWAITS THE DOMINOED DARE-DOLL?

++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Part 2 “Hello Bruce, I am so glad you were able to come by on such short notice,” Commissioner Gordon motioned for Bruce Wayne and his youthful ward, Dick Grayson, to take seats across from his desk.

“Always honored to offer help to Gotham’s finest, Commissioner.” Bruce smoothed his jacket and straightened his cufflinks making sure Gordon could see the gold Rolex he was sporting. “What can we do to help?”

“Well, Bruce, it has come to my attention that Olga and Egghead are back in town.”

“I thought they had been sentenced to hard labor in the Belgravian tapioca mines,” Dick piped in.

“Commissioner, wouldn't this be a better topic to discuss with Batman?”

“It would be if this were a criminal matter, but Olga and Egghead are here on diplomatic passports.” Gordon let out an exasperated sigh. “Apparently, political expediency outweighs the concerns for justice in that part of the world”

“Olga is the Queen of the Bessarovian Cossacks. Queen Bess of Belgravia has a very tenuous hold on the throne of Greater Bessarovia-Belgravia. She needed to free Olga and Egghead so they would not become political cause celeb’ for the Bessarovian Cossacks. But, she wants to keep them out of her hair at home.” The commissioner leaned back in his chair.

“Queen Bess gave them the Gotham Diplomatic Consul to run as they saw fit. The GB-B is a very poor country. The tapioca mines have been pretty much worked out and I expect they sent Olga and Egghead to Gotham to get them out of the country before they plunder what’s left and take power themselves.”

“Yes, I expect you are right, Commissioner.” Bruce leaned towards Gordon. “The Bessarovian Steppes have been rife with civil war for hundreds of years with the Bessarovian scraping away at the power base of the Monarchy for decades.” Bruce Wayne stiffened his back and reached his full height. “Wayne industries has had quite a time trying to maintain our interests in the region. We had to hire several hundred Belgravian mercenaries to maintain order in the remaining tapioca mines. The Bessarovian peasantry are fiercely independent and we needed to make examples of several of them when Olga was sentenced to hard labor in the mines. Of course, it was done with their best interests in mind. Without the guards at the mine contributing to the local businesses, the economy would collapse.”

“Yes, Bruce, I have always been aware of the importance of Wayne Enterprises' support for local businesses. Heaven knows what Gotham would be like without Wayne Enterprises support of the local prison economy. I understand the Arch Criminal Wing of the penitentiary has proven quite lucrative.”

“Commissioner Gordon, maintaining Arch Criminals behind bars is an extremely expensive endeavor. Unfortunately, the courts have not seen fit to assign sufficient gravity to their actions that would allow them to be properly locked away on a permanent basis. I know crimes like stealing toy boats and antique nightshirts, on the face of it, seem like relatively petty crimes, but in the larger schemes, they are bellwethers of much more sinister goings on…” Bruce suddenly snapped out of his reverie and turned to the Commissioner and Chief of Police.

“So, how may I be of service?”

“Chief O’Hara and I both received the most strange invitations to the GB-B Consul… and it gave an open invite to the entire police force, including Batman and Robin.” O’Hara handed his copy of the invitation to Bruce Wayne, Dick looked over his shoulder as he examined it.

“Gosh, Bruce, what do you think this means?”

“It would appear that Olga is planning an evening to honor Batgirl, as a repudiation of the old ways of doing business and to make amends for past attempts to kill her…” Bruce looked up from the paper. “The Bessarovians are a slavic horse culture and are very tightly bound to tradition. To turn down such an invitation would be considered a huge insult to the Bessarovian and Belgravian cultures.

“Yes, especially considering the legal troubles Gotham may face with the GB-B Government.” Gordon gave a grave scowl. “Olga and Egghead are supposed to negotiate the return of several of Bessarovia’s most important cultural artifacts from the Wayne Foundation Museum.”

“Gosh Commissioner, are you talking about the Golden Egg Ogg and the Scimitar of Samarkan?” Dick punched his fist in frustration. “Those artifacts were legally plundered.” Bruce gave Dick an angry glance. “I mean legally purchased and exported to Gotham.”

“That may well be, Dick but the Bessarovians want them back and Olga has the full power of the Bessarovian Government to negotiate their return.” Gordon looked at O’Hara.

“Begora, we’ll be in a sticky wicket with that mess… What with them being stolen only this morning, we’ll need to be on extra good behavior at the consulate.” Chief O’Hara shook his head in despair. “Bein’ they’re such valuable cultural artifacts, we’ve kept the crime quiet for the moment, but we all had best be on our best behavior tonight.”

“Hopefully the Caped Crusaders will be able to make it, I left a message on the Batphone. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to get in touch with Batgirl. My Daughter, Barbara, seems to be in occasional contact with her, but I haven’t been able to find her either.”

“Yes, Commissioner, I would have all your men in their dress uniforms and make attendance mandatory.” Bruce looked at Dick and said, “Being trustees of the Museum, Dick and I will probably not be able to attend. Do you have any idea of the type of event?”

“Well, I did have a conversation with the Belgravian Ambassador, Omar Orloff, a short while ago. He said it was the GB-B are planning on making the Consulate a source of hard currency for the country. Technically, the consular buildings are considered the territory of Bessarovia and Belgravia, Gotham laws would not apply.” Gordon looked at Bruce, “Do you have any ideas as to what they are planning to do?”

“Holy cannibalism, Bruce, do you think it’s some kind of Trap?” Dick smacked his fist again. “The last time Batman, Robin and Batgirl were all there, Egghead tried to make the Chief, The Commissioner Robin and Batgirl into a wedding borscht.”

“I think your men will be safe, Commissioner. Olga and Egghead are here on diplomatic passports, which means they are immune from prosecution… The GB-B is very hard-up for Western currency, they are unlikely to try anything that would jeopardize that…” Bruce was warming to the opening to wax professorial.

“The Bessarovians have always been poor even by the standards of the Western Ural Plateau. I suspect they will fall back on their most successful economic resource.”

“What’s that, Bruce?” Dick asked.

“Comfort women.”

“Comfort women?” Chief O’Hara and Gordon asked simultaneously.

“Yes, the Mixture of Nordic blondes from the age of vikings that occurred between 750 and 800 interbred with the indigenous slavic peoples created some of the most beautiful women of Eurasia. As you probably already observed from the caped crusaders' earlier interaction with the Bessarovians, they are not particularly good as mounted horsemen or particular standouts when it comes to swordsmanship.” Bruce was warming to his lecture audience. “Aside from the not particularly profitable tapioca mines and the flat and almost indefensible grasslands of Bessarovia. They have very few sources of revenue upon which to rely.”

“After the devastating invasions of Napoleon the First in the early 1800s Olga the First of Bessarovia decided the best way to deal with invading armies was to set up comfort houses for the invading soldiers and to placate them with fermented horse milk and women.”

“Begora, that be a mighty sad plight, Mr Wayne.” Chief O’Hara seldom had sympathies to the plight of women (a by-product of his policy of only hiring male officers), but this sounded hard, even to his standards.

“Not entirely,Chief. I have personally been to several of these comfort houses when Wayne Enterprises was expanding into the Tapioca industry a few years back.” Bruce looked at the ceiling as if he were trying to recall some ancient and arcane facts. “You see, Chief, many cultures have much more varied standards of beauty and sexuality than those of the enlightened ways of Gothamites. Despite our best efforts to outlaw strip bars, topless dancing, prostitution and pornography and to punish the women engaged in it, the Bessarovians have embraced it.”

“My understanding is the Bessarovians are planning on using the sovereign property of the Consul as an economic center for women of loose virtue.”

“Saints preserve us, Mr Wayne. What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, Olga and Egghead are probably going to turn the Consul into a six story cat-house. Stippers, prostitutes duty free alcohol. The largest tittie-bar in Gotham history.” Bruce turned to the Chief, “and there is absolutely nothing that any of us can do to stop it. The Bessarovian Consul is a diplomatic enclave and under the protection of the laws of the Greater Bessarovian and Belgravian Constitution.” Bruce and Dick headed to the door.

“Your men had better be in their finest dress uniforms tonight.” Bruce turned at the door, looking down at the two policemen. “Especially since you allowed someone to steal the Scimitar of Samarkan the Golden Egg of Ogg from my fucking museum.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Batgirl blinked her eyes, the chemicals from Egghead’s gas bomb were still clouding her memory. She remembered chasing Egghead’s delivery van into an abandoned egg processing plant only to have the gates closed and locked behind her. She confronted Olga, Egghead and a motley assortment of goons.

What happened next was confusing. Barbara wasn’t sure what was a really memory and what was a hallucination. It wouldn’t be beyond Egghead to use psychotropics, as long as they were integrated into his egg themed crimes. But, the eight Batgirls that came out into the courtyard seemed so vivid and they didn’t all look identical to her. They were women dressed as Batgirl, not Batgirls…

“Hello, Batgirl…” Barbara opened her to see Egghead staring down at her left. “Skol’ko let, skol’ko zim! Bat-bushka…” Olga smiled down from her right.
Barbara tried to sit upright with a jerk. She was restrained at her legs, wrists and neck. She was still dazed from whatever chemical bomb Egghead had gassed her with. She wasn’t going anywhere for the moment. “What type of slimy trick is this, Egghead?” Barbara looked down her body and could see thick strands of metal around one of her wrists. She was secured at the bottom of what was obviously some sort of Purple satin linen box, a crudely made coffin.
“You know I have a patent on slimy dicks, Batgirl…” Egghead chuckled. “Slimy TRICKS,” Olga smacked him on the shoulder, scowling. “slimy tricks, babushka. Slimy tricks.”

“I have a patent on them, too.” He gave a wan smile at his partner in crime, before turning his attention back to their captive.

“Dick pretty slimy, sometimes, alzo…”

Barbara was not interested in discussing Eggheads dick or its hygiene. “Why did you steal the Scimitar of Samarkan and the Egg of Ogg? I thought you were sent here to negotiate its return to Greater Bessarovia-Belgravia.”

“Oh, my dear, ignorant Batgirl. We were, but we have much bigger eggs to fry.” Egghead looked at Olga. “The Scimitar and the Egg are just temporary distractions. “We stole the Scimitar and Egg to make sure that the entire Gotham City Police Department would be here tonight to honor you in a most Bessarovian way…” Egghead smiled at Olga and looked down at his restrained captive. “Olga and I owe you a most unspeakable death.”

“Da! Vhen Ve were last in Gotham and tried killing you with frosted sword saber dance, and then drowning you in Caviar, ve were deported back to Bessarovia and put on trial. ve were sentenced to life of hard labor in the Bessarovian Tapioca mines.”

“Yes, Batgirl, a life sentence mining Tapioca under the Bessarovian permafrost. A fate you could never imagine… Endless days of egg-scrutiating hard labor, from which there is no egg-scape or reprieve…”

“How did you get here?” Batgirl asked, quietly testing the wires holding her down.

“We got a reprieve” Egghead continued. “Olga is the queen of the Bessarovian Cossacks and with her imprisoned, the Cossacks were becoming unmanageable for Queen Bess. She let Olga and I out and sent us to Gotham to run the Consulate. We would be out of the Tapioca mines but also out of the country, too. Not a threat to Queen Bess’s rule.”

“Da, we come to Gotham to run Consul and make hard currency. Ve also make revenge on Bat-bushka.” Olga pulled a bejeweled dagger from the sheath on her belt and held the razor sharp tip just under Barbara’s chin.

“Patience, patience, my dear Olga…” Egghead put his hand on Olga’s and moved the blade away from their captive’s throat. “We didn’t go through all this trouble to kill her in such a hasty, if satisfying manner…”

Da, da… You are right Eggy… Ve do it the old fashioned way, as ve planned…” Olga kept her blade on Batgirl, the point tracing the shape of the heroine’s breast and abdomen. Even with its point barely touching the fabric of her outfit, where it did, it made narrow cuts that exposed bits of Barbara's fine white skin.

“What are you and Olga planning?” Barbara struggled under the thick metal bar, it was U-shaped and disappeared into the floor of the box. she could rotate her hips slightly and she seemed to only be pinned at her ankles, throat and wrists. She could struggle, but the metal was not something she was going to ever cut or break. Barbara wondered if there might be some mechanism to strangle her built into her restraints. That had recently become a popular fetish amongst the Gotham Arch Criminals . Nora Clavicle, Pirate Princess, Lotus, Catwoman and even Batman had tried to incorporate some method of strangulation in their recent attempts at Batgirl’s demise.

“Oh Batgirl, we have pulled out all the stops for your current predicament…” Egghead was delighting in continuing his explanation. “As you are surely aware, Gotham City has had a crack down on porngraphy, prostitution and sexual deviancy.” Egghead’s face lit up at the mention of sexual deviancy. “Mayor Linseed believes the waves of Arch Criminals flocking to Gotham has been the fetishization of crime and,” he looked down the length of the struggling crimefighter’s catsuit clad body, “crimefighting.”

“In his rash efforts to eliminate the sexually egg-splicit material, he has created a demand…” He smiled back at Batgirl and then to Olga. “...a huge demand for it.”

“I am also sure you are aware that the Bessarovian Consulate is considered sovereign territory of the GB-B.” Egghead looked at Olga as her cue.

“Da, and pornography and sex work are the only industries in Bessarovia and Belgravia that are more profitable than tapioca mining….” Olga smiled at her struggling victim. “So, ve bring them here to Gotham to make money for mother country. And kill Batgirl, same time.”

“You see, Batgirl, we have converted this six story consulate into the largest peep show in Gotham history. We’ve recruited the most skilled sex workers from all over Bessarovia, Belgravia and Gotham to perform all the forbidden, egg-splicit sex acts no longer available to Gothamites.

“And tonight, for one night only, Bessarovia is going to make a tribute to Gotham’s Best Dressed Crime Fighter!” Olga was giddy with excitement. “ The entire Gotham City Police Department will be the first customers of our new, and totally legal peep show!”

Barbara looked back and forth between Olga and Egghead. “How does that accomplish anything?”

“Ah…You see Batgirl, Bessarovia is barbaric horse culture, full of very ancient and brutal customs. Which is egg-xactly why we needed you here.” Egghead stood to his full height. “To properly restore Olga, and myself to good standing within the Cossack hierarchy, we need to follow an egg-tremely narrow set of protocols to restore our honor after being captured and deported. Unfortunately, we do not have the resources here in Gotham to manage most of them. Dipping you in molten gold or trampling you with a hundred Bessarovian ponies just isn’t something we have the resources to pull off.”

“Da, but then ve had brainstorm. Death of a Thousand Stallions!”

“Olga, Egghead just said you couldn’t afford a hundred ponies, where are you going to get a thousand stallions?” Barbara kept struggling against the metal anchoring her to the bottom of the coffin like box.

“Ah, Bat-bushka, that is the wrong type of stallion!” Olga pointed to a monitor that lit up to show a line of policemen standing outside the Consulate in their dress uniforms. Death of a thousand stallions is about the horsemen, not da horses” Olga and Egghead both gave a hearty laugh at Batgirl’s expense.

“Death of a Thousand Stallions is vhen big strong Bessarovian men stand in line to cum on face of vanquished enemy.” Olga pointed to the line of Police waiting to enjoy the hospitality of the Bessarovian Consulate. “Bessarovian Cossacks big strong fighters are very masculine. They each make cum like great stallions of Bessarovian Steppe. Shoot gallons on face of enemies… Gotham Police provide men to shoot cum on Bat-bushka, fill coffin and rid Gotham of caped crusader….”

“Gotham Police will never degrade themselves to jerking off in public, especially to forward your nefarious schemes.” Barbara was terrified. She wasn’t so sure she was right. Only a few weeks earlier, Siren had mesmerized the entire Headquarters and had tasked Batman with supervising her murder.

“Ah, we will see about that, Batgirl. You see, that is why we stole the Egg of Ogg and the Scimitar of Samarkan, to trap you. If theft became public knowledge, it would be a huge international scandal. A black mark on Gotham so terrible that it could start a war between our countries. I doubt Commissioner Gordon would allow that to happen.” Egghead smiled at his own diabolical intellect. “An egg-sistential crisis for Gotham City. My egg-spectation is that Gordon and Batman are going to have every officer, all five hundred of the jerking off into the glory holes at every peep booth in the building.”

“And every single drop of that cum will flow down into this basement and slowly fill this coffin with you in it.”

“Egghead, you must be crazy if you think that plan is going to work.” Batgirl was now thrashing around inside the wooden box.

“Bat-bushka is right, of course, Police men make only tiny amount of seed… Not like real men of Bessarovian Steppe.”

“Sadly, that is true, my dear Olga…” Egghead turned to Batgirl. “Do you know what the primary commercial use of Grade C Bessarovian Tapioca is, Batgirl?”

“Bubble tea?”

“No, my purple pest, it is highly prized in Asia as a stand-in for jizz in Japanese tentacle porn…” Egghead pointed to the building above them. “Everytime one of those officers puts a coin into the peep show booth to watch a Batgirl go girl on girl with another Batgirl (or Catwoman or whomever), a cup Bessarovian’s best synthetic tentacle spunk will be release down those tubes and will slowly fill your Bat-coffin and preserving you for history… And Olga and I will ship you back to Bessarovia in the diplomatic pouch where you will be permanently placed in the perma-frost beneath the floor of Krimalin with other vanquished foes of the Bessarovians.

“Da, and vhen I have used the recovery of the Scimitar of Samarkan and the Egg of Ogg to take over Crown of Greater Bessarorvia and Belgravia, I will have Queen Bess do Bessarovian Saber dance vith Frosted Swords over your grave…” Olga looked at Batgirl with a mixture of hatred and glee.

IS THIS TRULY THE END OF BATGIRL? TO BE BURIED IN BESSAROVIAN SPUNK BY GOTHAM’S FINEST? ARE BATMAN AND ROBIN THROBBIN’ TO BURY HER, TOO? TUNE IN FOR THE NEXT NUT BUSTING EPISODE….

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Part 3 Commissioner Gordon walked up to the Caped Crusaders and handed Batman and Robin each coffee cup filled with little metal tokens, adorned with the crests of GB-B on one side and a stripper girl on the other.

“Compliments of Bruce Wayne. I suspect he wants us to remind us that he would like to get his artifacts back for the Museum.” He handed another cup of tokens to Chief O’Hara. “You are over eighteen, aren’t you Boy Wonder?”

Robin shook the cup and did a mental inventory to make sure he would not be short changed. “Yes Commissioner” ‘By about five years,’ he snorted under his breath.

“Gosh, Batman, what are we supposed to do with these?” Robin looked around at all the policemen milling about, best to stay in character.

“Well, Old Chum, the Bessarovians have a long tradition of honoring heroes and heroines with displays of theater….” Batman looked down into his cup of tokens. “I suspect that Olga and Egghead are being compelled to honor Batgirl as part of their penance for having tried to kill her at least three or four times.

“This seems to be a variation of the old style peep shows of the 1950s. You go to the show that you are interested in viewing insert one of the tokens and you can watch the women doing… doing…” Batman pointed to grainy, low resolution screens mounted on the walls.

“Whatever they be doing” O’Hara piped in, trying to be helpful.

“Yes, thank you, Chief. Doing whatever they be doing.” Batman regained his composure. “when your time is up you can put in more tokens or move on to another… display.”

“Refreshments, gentlemen” A stunning redhead in a body stocking, corset and matching red Batgirl utility belt held out a tray of sliced pineapple, apple sliced coated with cinnamon skewered with toothpicks and bottles of cranberry juice.

“Ah, thank you my dear.” Batman loaded a napkin with several slices of fruit and helped distribute bottles of juice amongst the group. He placed a token on her tray as a gratuity.

“What an unusual selection of refreshments,” Commissioner Gordon noted.

“Yes, Commissioner, but they all have a common purpose.”

“How is that Batman?”

“Well, Commissioner, semen has quite a bitter flavor and all of these foods are very acidic. Pineapple, in particular, has a reputation for making your semen much more palatable to your partner.”

“Gosh, Batman, there is so much to learn about being a man,” Robin gushed.

“Yes, chum and it is important to learn to be a considerate man. That’s why I have sworn off asparagus.”

Robin pointed to the small holes in the wall below each of the peep show windows. “What are those for Batman?”

“Those, Robin, are ‘Dyra slavy.’ An old method of showing one’s appreciation for the Bessarovian actresses, in this case, performing as Batgirl.” Batman waved a slice of pineapple in the air theatrically.

“I believe,” The Commissioner added, looking at his Bessarovian to English dictionary, “that means ‘glory hole’ in English.”

“A crude translation, Commissioner, a pocket dictionary is never going to give you the cultural nuance of the complex and subtle Bessarovian language…”

“They be feelin’ like a glory hole…” O’Hara pulled his finger out of one and looked at the glistening lubricant on his fingers. “And they be better than most of the ones I seen raiding porn shops and peep shows in my years as a beat cop.”

“Yes, Chief, I would expect a state run peep show would have facilities far surpassing those of your typical Gotham criminal enterprise” Batman reached into one of the openings and rubbed his fingers in and out. He smelt his fingers, “Hmm, KY with a faint odor of antimicrobial, Olga and Egghead have made an effort to create a first rate facility.”

“Do you think it might be a trap, Batman?” Robin punched his fist. “I mean, they have both of us here along with every policeman in Gotham, and encouraging us to stick our dicks into strange holes while watching pornography. It seems mighty suspicious…”

“It does, Robin. But, I take exception to your use of the word ‘pornography’. Pornography implies that it is a depiction of sex with no artistic merit. Which is clearly not the case here, as it is a long standing cultural tradition practiced by the host country.”

“Commissioner, I would recommend your men enjoy tonight’s festivities. Considering the delicate diplomatic situation of having the Scimitar of Samarkan and the Egg of Ogg stolen from the Wayne Collection at the Museum, creating a positive relationship with Greater Bessarovia and Belgravia will be imperative for our two countries. Especially if the Scimitar and Egg aren’t recovered soon….” Batman looked at the throng of policemen milling around and window shopping the different Batgirl experiences. “Also, I think that once established, the Bessarovians will raise prices.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Barbara looked up at the ceiling, hanging just above her was an almost solid array of small nozzles. They were not at all complex and must have numbered in the dozens. A wall of monitors lined most of Barbara’s peripheral vision, at least what she could see about the edge of her purple lined coffin. The images rotated between women performing in various versions of her Batgirl costume and being completely undressed and images of Police officers that were oggling the women. Cocktail waitresses in skimpy batgirl, catwomen and other renditions of female villainesses circulated in the crowd and handing out drinks and snacks.

Barbara struggled hard, but the unsophisticated nature of her bondage did not allow for her to wrench herself free.

Barbara took stock of her situation. Olga and Egghead had simply used thick bailing wire to pin her to the bottom of the coffin. She was only pinned down in four places, her neck, her wrists and her ankles. It was confining and she was never going to give her enough play to slip out of the trap. Even if she could reach her utility belt, she didn’t think she had anything that was going to be able to cut the thick wire in a timely manner.

“Look Eggy! See how vunderful Batgirl dance! Just like saber dance! She is natural for this. Dance Batgirl! Dance!” Olga reached over to a control panel and switched the images of Batgirl into the rotations of live feeds. Most of the feeds had grainy images of women performing unspeakable sex acts on one another and building locations where the men could gather to watch and spend their tokens. Barbara’s image was labeled the Bukkake Dungeon.

“You’ll never get away with this, when Queen Bess finds out she will have you quartered!” Barbara twisted her hips and writhed uselessly to escape.

“Yes, Batgirl, Queen Bess would be most disturbed to find out that Batgirl had met such an undignified end… in the basement of the Gotham Consulate. But, it will be far too late for you and most likely to late for her, right Olga?” Egghead reappeared over the edge of the coffin and with a thick yellow ballgag with white leather straps coming off of it.

“Da! My little bat-buschka is going to find out how Bessarovians serve revenge… Now you see what it like to be trapped in tapioca mines vhen rainy season comes…”

Egghead grabbed Barbara’s jaw and force the rubber ball into her mouth and quickly strapped it into place.

“You’ve probably never been in a Tapioca collapse…Have you, Batgirl?” Egghead was almost giddy pulling the leather straps tight, forcing the yellow gag into Batgirl’s mouth. “Hundreds of pounds of wet, cold tapioca collapsing around you, pinning you into place….Egg-scrutiating”

“Sadly, we did not have enough room in the consul freezer to chill it down into the deadly cold sludge of unrefined Bessarovian tapioca… but it will be just as deadly…” Egghead and Olga stood back and laughed, just as the overhead nozzle started to shake.

“Ah, Bat-buschka, your first satisfied customer!” Just as Olga spoke, a stringy opaque jet squirted from the above and splooshed onto Barbara’s leg. One of the low resolution screens showed an officer in a GCPD uniform thrusting into the wall below a peep show window. In other camera views, they could see other officers taking advantage of Olga and Egghead’s ‘hospitality’.

Barbara could feel the warm slime striking her, even through her Batsuit. It was thick, warm and slimy. It clung to the fabric of her outfit, immediately soaking in. Soon after, another tube made squelching noise as a jet of tapioca squirted across her face. This load hit just below her eye and splashed down from her cowl, across her cheek and mouth. A dribble of synthetic tentacle cum settled on her mouth and gag. As Barbara tried to eject the ball gag from her lips, some synthesized squid spunk seeped into her mouth. She was relieved that the cinematic seed didn’t taste like real cum, but like cheap supermarket tapioca. Small favors, she thought.

“Ah! bat-buschka! A load from the ‘Queen’s Box’! How you say VIP Lounge?”

“Yes Batgirl, unknowingly, the most exclusive part of the club will egg-jaculate on your face… the more pedestrian policemen will coat your legs and body.” Olga’s hand had disappeared down Egghead’s white and yellow tuxedo trousers. “Your egg-stermination chamber will fill up from your to leg’s to your head… eggs-tending your suffering…”

Da, It vill be so vunderfully slow…. Better than drowning caviar…” Egghead grabbed the edge of Barbara’s coffin as Olga jacked him aggressively from within his trousers.

“Yes. Olga, Yes! I have been such a bad genius! Punish me! Punish me!” At that moment, more of Bessarovia’s finest squirted from one of the near Barbara’s feet and Egghead heard the splat on boots and shouted, “Yes, yes, Olga! I feel it! Revenge is ours!” Another jet of Tapioca splattered down on Barbara’s thigh. Egghead arched his back as he felt a great release…

“Da! Da! Eggy! The Bat-buschka vill die this time!” Olga’s hand, strengthened by years of horsemanship and sword play, finished Egghead with her firm grip.

At this point the peepshow was moving into full swing. Bursts of Tapioca showered down on the trapped Batgirl. Spurts would strike her legs and dribble down onto the bottom of the box, soaking into her uniform and whatever fabric it came into contact with, becoming even more viscous as it coated the heroine. Occasionally a spurt would land across her stomach or chest, creeping down the side of her body as she bucked and struggled to escape.

Olga hung on the side of her much taller man, her hand still inside his tuxedo pants. “The Bat-buschka is doomed to drown! If only ve had enough Bessarovians to fill coffin in old fashion way…”

“Yes, Olga, it would be egg-squisite to watch row after row of brawny Cossacks unloading on Batgirl. Unfortunately, we will have to settle for row upon row of somewhat limp police officers, bulked up on doughnuts and coffee to do the job of egg-sterminating this delicious looking Batgirl!”

A fresh jet of synthetic slime shot across Barbara and rolled down her cheek. She could see the excited look on her captor’s faces as they looked at the screen to see who had supplied the latest humiliating blow to the doomed heroine.

“Look Eggy! Commissioner Gordon and Batman have found the Queen’s Box!” Barbara turned her attention to the screen Olga was pointing at. She could the the back of her father’s standing next to Batman’s cowl as they both looked through a window at an unseen performer. There slow measured rocking motions told Barbara all she needed to know about what the two men were doing…

“Olga, we need to go up there! It will be so egg-squisite to see Batman shooting his bat-load and knowing where it is going to end up!”

“Da! But do you think ve should? We tried to kill and eat Commissar Gordon last time we vere in Gathom! Don’t you think he might be upset?”

“That defective detective hasn’t admitted the Scimitar and Egg of Ogg were stolen, he needs all the good will he can muster. That’s the only reason he and Batman are here. And we are on Bessarovian soil. They really can do nothing”

“Eggy, you genius of evil! Let’s go and make sure Batman and Commissar have good time.” Olga looked at Batgirl, “don’t go anywhere Bat-buschka! I vant to see final minutes of your life!!!”

Just as Olga and Egghead made their way to the circular stair leading out of the dungeon, Barbara looked up just in time to see two nozzles from the Queen’s Box VIP lounge deposit two jets of warm and slick tapioca on her face.

IS IT TAPS IN TAPIOCA FOR BATGIRL? EGG-STERMINATED BY EGGHEAD AND OLGA? ARE COMMISSIONER GORDON AND BATMAN UNWITTING ACCOMPLICES? HOW MANY POLICEMEN WILL IT TAKE TO FILL BATGIRL’S GRAVE? FIND OUT IN THE NEXT EGG-SPLICITE EPISODE!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++= Part 4 Barbara looked at the nozzles arrayed above her head. The tapioca slid down her cheek and cooled as it was exposed to the air. she looked down her body and she could more and strings of Bessarovian Tapioca slime shoot down on her. She tried not to think about what each of those bits eggwhite like masses represented. But they were raining down on her with ever increasing frequency.

Each glob, after striking her body or landing inside her casket, slowed and cooled into a thickening stew. Barbara struggled to keep her composure as she wrestled at the wire that pinned her down. She understood that in the next few hours the box was going to slowly fill with the ever increasing layers of synthetic tentacle cum. She lift her back and pulled at her wrists, but the bruit simplicity of the trap was making escape nearly impossible.

There were no locks to pick, ropes to cut or stretch. Just five thick pieces of wire pinning her to the bottom of the filling coffin. As she wriggled, the viscus fluid seeped around her body and moved under her legs, back and arms.

Just as Egghead had promised the pace of the the “cheap seat” glory holes were picking up. Barbara was still getting slapped in the face with gobs of the semen like paste, but the goo was collecting around her legs and torso at a much faster and moved with a sickening slowness around her body, piling up on her legs.

As the stew cools she can also feel it stiffening… It piles up on her legs and as it does, it works up her body towards her head. Inevitably she is going to be drowned and entombed for the sick enjoyment of Olga and Egghead.

+++++++++++++++++++

Robin looked up at all the screens in front of him, each showing one exotic Bessarovian model after another, each doing salacious lesbian actions on another woman, each dressed as either Batgirl or one of her many enemies.

“Gosh Batman I didn’t imagine half of these things were even possible.”

“Yes, Old Chum, the human imagination has an amazing ability to create endless possibilities.” Batman looked intently at the screens, noting different locations of the women for future reference.

“And this doesn’t count as cheating on Pussycat?”

“No, of course not. You see Robin, we are here as official emissaries of the Gotham Police department. This constitutes our official crime fighting duties.” Batman waved at the multiple screens as he talked. “Each one of these women is here to homage to Batirl and her crime fighting prowess. To not be here would be an affront to our Bessarovian hosts.

“Thanks, Batman, I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Robin smiled at one of the screens. “that makes me feel a little better about Pussycat being able to have prison sex…”

“Yes, my boy, young love separated is a difficult thing….”

Robin pointed at one of the screens. “Hey Batman, that girl looks a lot like the real Batgirl.”

“Yes, what an egg-cellent observation Boy Wonder. That is Yvonne, one of Bessarovia’s premiere models.” Egghead moved up next to Batman and Robin. “She does have a striking resemblance to the real Batgirl.”

“Speaking of the real Batgirl,” Egghead looked around at the throng of policemen, “I haven’t seen her here. He turned to Batman, “was she unable to come? Nothing unfortunate happened, I hope.”

“No, No, Egghead, I don’t think she was aware of the event. I know Commissioner Gordon was trying to contact her, but I don’t think he was successful.”

“That’s a shame, I hope that won’t offend Queen Bess.” Egghead waved to the surroundings. “All this was to be in her honor, as a penance for past indiscretions.”

Egghead picked a few slices of fruit off the tray of the circulating redheaded Batgirl .

“I am sure Batgirl meant no disrespect, Egghead. The pressures of crime fighting and leading a secret identity can be quite taxing on one’s time. I am sure that she would be here if she could.”

“Gosh Egghead, I have to say the Bessarovian comfort women are certainly beautiful. Especially her.” Robin pointed at the screen. “Where is her booth? It just says ‘Bukakke Dungeon.’”

“I am sorry to say that Yvonne had to leave, prematurely. She is going to be needed in the Krimlin. This is a taped performance.” Egghead pointed at the screen. “Such an egg-cellent talent, you would think she was actually drowning in cum.”

“Olga and I thought it was too good a show to not be included. You can watch a high-definition version up in the ‘Queen’s Box.’” Egghead motioned them towards a sign directing them to the exclusive lounge. “Have you seen Commissioner Gordon? I was hoping to have a word with him about security around the priceless Egg og Ogg and the Scimitar of Samarkan.”

Batman feigned deafness and hustled Robin towards the exclusive Queen’s Box.

As they moved away from the smiling Egghead, Robin leaned into Batman. “Gosh, Batman, what does bukakke mean? I didn’t realize that was a Bessarovian word.”

“It isn’t, Chum. It actually a Japanese word to describe ‘to splash with liquid.’” Batman continued. “The vernacular term has been adopted from Japanese food culture where it is usually used to describe tasty noodle dishes.” Robin nodded in understanding.

“The Bessarovians co-opted the term when there was a demand for large amounts of their tapioca based cum- substitute during the 1960s tentacle porn craze.” He put a hand on Robin’s shoulder, “Let’s get a move on, I am very curious to see what happens to this lovely young actress, Yvonne. She really does look a lot like Gotham’s own Batgirl.”

“That gag looks awesome on her, especially with tapioca all over her face. I wish our Batgirl was as much of a freak as she is.”

“Robin, this girl is a professional sex worker, not a crime fighter. Batgirl may not make erotica, but she's invaluable to keeping Gothamites safe. When you get a little older you will learn to judge women more in the context of their contributions than their sexual appeal.”

“Gosh Batman, when does that happen?”

“Not until your second divorce, Old Chum…”

As Batman and Robin moved on, and Egghead went to find Olga flirting with Commissar Gordon and feeding him vodka. The redheaded cocktail toting Batgirl put down her tray and quietly moved towards the stairs leading to other parts of Bessarovian Consulate.

WHAT’S THIS? ANOTHER BATGIRL? OR IS SHE SOMEONE MORE NEFARIOUS? TUNE IN FOR THE NEXT CHICKEN CHOKING EPISODE, SAME BAT-TIME SAME BAT-CHANNEL

+++++++++++++++= Part 5 Barbara was getting tired. The goop was squirting down on her in a near steady shower of opaque slime. If she had looked at the monitors arrayed around the the dungeon, she would have seen lines of officers waiting at the various peep booths throughout the building waiting for the chance to watch dozens of Bessarovian beauties, costumed and performing live sex shows for the attending officers of the Gotham PD.

What none of the attendees above were aware of was, each time an officer did his business upstairs, Batgirl was slowly being buried alive under a mound of synthetic semen in the basement below.

Just as Egghead had predicted, warm shots of fake tentacle cum was raining down on her legs and abdomen. As it hit, the spunk would spread out, seeking the lowest point and cooling and stiffening.

As the layers of tapioca spread and cooled, the pudding-like substance would cool and congeal. Each layer on top would insulate the layers below it and the pooling and congealing would slow even more.

The thickening layers clung to her uniform and were slowly becoming thicker, hotter and heavier. Barbara’s struggles became progressively less effective and more exhausting.

The brutal simplicity of Olga and Egghead’s trap was obvious, unable to reach her utility belt and the metal restraints effectively beyond stretching or even cutting were simply unbreakable. Many of the Traps Batgirl had to face over the years had elaborate systems of ropes, knots, chains and locks. With added complexities came progressively more failure points she could exploit.

Olga and Egghead had opted for the simplest bondage, no locks, no ropes, no pullies. Just thick round metal across her throat, at each ankle and her wrists applied while she was unconscious. She had no chance to use flexes or other tricks to create the illusion of tight bondage while allowing wiggle room to escape.

Barbara looked up at the nozzles just above her head. Just as she did, a creamy jet of fluid came directly at her. She turned her face slightly to the right and the sticky mess just missed her nose and coated her left eye. She blinked a few times but the sticky ooze clung annoyingly to her lashes even as the bulk of it slid down into her hair and into the gap between her cowl and her face.

She could feel the mess collecting behind her head and working it’s way up either side of her face. She had become so preoccupied with her escape and dodging the thickening ooze to from suffocating her with direct hits over her mouth and nose, she had lost track of time.

Olga and Egghead were certain to be monitoring her entombment from upstairs and encouraging the best of Gotham to continue to unload their loads upon her…

She was exhausted, her chest and legs were completely covered in slime and she was barely able to move. It was hot and sticky and she felt like she was inside a block of latex. No matter how hard she pushed or pulled, she returned to her starting position, accomplishing nothing.

The more Tapioca she covered with, the slower it cooled and gelled. Barbara could feel the weight of synthetic splooge on her body. it weighed her down like wet cement. She thought briefly about how much of the actual material was coming from the hundreds of police officers in attendance and how much was the filler Olga thought was needed to make up for lack of “strong Bessarovian manhood.”

Barbara was getting desperate, her torso up to her neck was completely covered up to her neck. At her feet, the casket was full and she could hear the muffled sound of extra cum glopping over the side and onto the floor.

The mess that wasn’t spilling over was pushing a shallow wall of synthetic goo up her body, around her shoulders and towards what would be her certain suffocating entombment.

With the lake of fake cum rising around her head, Barbara wondered if Olga and Egghead were planning on returning to her demise in person, or if they would rather watch the rank and file officers of the GCPD finishing her off upstairs.

Unable to shed heat from her struggles and exhausted under the weight of the encroaching slime, Barbara could do little if anything to effect her own escape. The tapioca had coalesced around her head and she was no longer able to dodge the facials coming from the “Queen’s Box.” A single, well place squirt in the face was certain to finish her off.

The coupe de gras landed in rapid succession. The first splashed across the bridge of her nose, covering her eyes and turned the world into an opaque blur. The second landed on her yellow ballgag and the splash blocked much of her nose. making breathing impossible. Barbara panicked, she was able to suck in a tiny amount of air from around the crusted edge of her gag, but it wasn’t enough.

She just wasn’t going to get enough air to survive. Her panic increased her desperation and she started to convulse, realizing this was her end game.

Barbara felt a hand scooping the slime from her eyes. She still couldn’t see anything, but she wasn’t dying alone. Next, she felt someone squeezing her nose and forcing the slime from her nostrils.

She blinked up to see who it was but could only see the color of pale skin, a red line she assumed was a mouth and two dark eyes. She blinked again and little about the face changed, but she could see a pair of hands digging around her face, removing some congealed tapioca.

Barbara felt a woman’s fingers sliding under white leather strap of her gag cut it free. she could feel the ball being pulled from her mouth as a muffled voice asked a muffled question.

“Thank god, whoever you are, I thought I was done for…” Barbara was exhausted and almost no fight left in her. She blinked and tried to see who was rescuing her. Her vision was still a blurry mess.

“Hold still, I am going to try and dig you out of this.” It was a woman's voice and Barbara tried to place it. She knew it, but beyond that, it was a mystery. Barbara could feel the small hands digging out the cooling and stiffening from around her neck. There was a steady plopping of synthetic cum raining down from floors above, competing with her rescuer’s effort to dig Batgirl from her tomb.

“What did they tie you down with? they feel like metal bolts.”

“I think they are metal U-brackets.” Barbara wanted to help, but the weight of the solidifying tapioca was weighing her down and she was exhausted from her near pointless fight against the trap. “Look underneath, maybe there are nuts that can be loosened….”

The voice came from underneath the casket. “Yeah, they have you bolted to the bottom of the coffin. Give me a minute to get them undone.”

“I don’t think I have a minute….” Barbara didn’t want to sound panicky, but the area around her face was rapidly filling in a fresh layer of synthetic tentacle spunk.

The voice came back up from under the trap and said, “God, those cops really are into jerking off….”

Barbara could feel something pulling at the side of the box and pulling at it hard. With a sudden ‘crack’ the viscous ooze diverted onto the floor. It still rained down from above, but it was longer moving to smother Barbara.

Barbara felt a gloved hand smearing more of the cum like ooze away from her face and tried to look at her rescuer. She had pale skin, shoulder length red hair and fire engine red lips with bright hazel eyes. She was wearing a shear turtleneck black nylon top that went all the way down to a matching set of black nylon gloves. Her top was very shear and did nothing to hide her firm breast or dark areola and nipples that easily visible through the fabric. Her revealing black top disappeared into a tight black corset that pulled her tiny waist even farther in. Sitting jauntily on her corsetted hips was a sequined red utility belt, not much different from her own.

Once the stream of tentacle cum was diverted from Barbara’s face the girl disappeared under the table again.

“I know you, your Marie Chersan, I saw you competing in the collegiate mixed martial arts for Capital City College a few years ago.” Barbara could feel the metal bar on her throat being worked on from underneath. “You were quite good… I think you lost in the final round.”

“I am honored to be recognized. I almost won that year. I won the next year, as soon as Barbara Gordon graduated. She was a powerhouse.” There was plunk of a metal nut hitting the concrete.

“I got a split, that match. I think it was the only time Gordon didn’t win by a unanimous decision.” Another nut clunked on the floor.

“What are you doing here? Not that I am complaining…” Barbara still couldn’t move but she knew she getting closer.

“Queen Bess of Belgravia and I dated in college. When she paroled Olga and Egghead to run the consulate in Gotham, she asked me to keep an eye on them. She thought they might look for trouble… I guess she was right.” Barbara hear more nuts falling to the floor as the red head kept working. It wasn’t hard getting a job when they were hiring for the peep show and brothel. I was hired as a server because I speak English.” She stood up from under the table and pulled the U-shaped bar from Barbara’s throat. “They didn’t know I am fluent in both Bessarovian and Belgrvian.”

Barbara struggled to sit up as Marie dug out her wrists and with some effort pulled off the restraints on either wrists.

“I go by the code name Nylonika,” The redhead continued to dig out the layers of Tapioca that trapped Barbara’s legs.

Nylonika freed Barbara’s left ankle and started digging after her right ankle. “I understand Queen Bess has a bit of history with you also…”

Barbara struggled to get out of the casket. She had no idea what Queen Bess had told Nylonika about their dalliances in college. Barbara and Nylonika were both Queen Bess’s “type.” Younger, attractive, physically fit and cracker-jack smart. Barbara had moved on after Bess had introduced Barbara to Pinky Pinkston who lived closer to home.

Meeting her old college rival being covered from head to toe in fake cum was not entirely Barbara’s ideal reunion. she decided to keep alter ego a secret, if possible. Barbara looked down her body, she was coated in a thick layer of slime and so was Nylonika.

Barbara started looking around for a hose or other way to remove the thick, slick coating from slime.

“I was unconscious when they brought men down here. How hard is it going to be to get out?” Barbara was trying to wash as much off of her legs as she could, if they needed to fight their way out, she was going to need as much agility as she could muster.

“I’m not sure,” Nylonika pointed at the clock. “I noticed they had the video feed of you in the trap on a fifteen minute delay. I think they wanted to make sure if anything happened, the policemen jerking off upstairs wouldn’t see it.

“That means they were keeping tabs some other way” Barbara looked at the door. “They didn’t have any guards posted?”

“Just one, but I put him to sleep with a mickey. I pretended I was sent down with a couple of Vodkas” Nylonika smiled. “Bessarovian Cossacks are not famous for their intelligence.”

Barbara took another look at Nylonika. She was hotter in a body stocking than she was judo gi. She could see the little landing strip of red hair peaking through body stocking. Barbara would have drunk the vodka, too.

“He probably has to check in periodically. We better go.”

“Da! He was!” Olga was stepping over the prostrate body of her unconscious guard, followed by two more of Cossack and Egghead bringing up the rear.

“I told you it would work, Olga!” Egghead pointed the thin rapier he was holding at Nylonika. “I knew Queen Bess would never trust us! To think she wouldn’t take our word that we would not kill Batgirl or try to double cross her and take over Greater Bessarovia and Belgravia!”

“Da! How could she not trust her own blood family? It will serve her right to be overthrown! Such insult!” Olga surveyed the destroyed death-trap and gallons of semi-congealed cum all over the floor.

“Eggy, what mess! How we kill them now? She looked at Nylonika and Batgirl. “Fight to death? Ve kill vinner?”

Egghead looked at Batgirl and she could see in his eyes that he was not interested in giving Batgirl a sword and he had no idea if Nylonika was going to be less dangerous, even if she were nearly naked.

“No, Olga. Ve… I mean we are not giving them weapons… but I do like the idea of a fight to the death… and they both both die!” Egghead leaned over to Olga and whispered into her ear. At first Olga looked skeptical, but her expression quickly shifted. Egghead had obviously touched her cold Bessarovian heart

“I like!” Olga was suddenly enthused. “See bat-buschka die! See Belgravian spy die!” Olga raised her saber and stepped towards Nylonika pointing her blade tip between the agent’s breasts, whose barely hidden nipples were rising to the occasion.

Egghead pulled his white and yellow walkie-talkie from his tuxedo and radioed “Fu Young, Benedict, this The Big E. We have had a breach in the Bukakke Dungeon and need some props from peep supplies.” Egghead smiled at his two comely prisoners and left the room to finish his instructions.

WHAT’S THIS? EGGHEAD GETTING MORE COILS FOR BATGIRL’S MORTAL COILS? AND WHAT OF THIS NEW HEROINE, NYLONIKA? WHAT PLANS DOES HE HAVE FOR THIS BELGRAVIAN BABE? WHAT EGGS-ISTENTIAL EGG-XIT IS PLANNED FOR OUR HEROINES? WHILE THE PARTY RAGES OVERHEAD AND GIVING HEAD…. TUNE IN FOR THE NEXT NUT KNOCKING EPISODE, SAME BAT-TIME SAME BAT-CHANNEL

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Part 6 Olga and her henchmen kept their swords pointed at the two heroines until Egghead returned. Olga was an enthusiastic guard. The Cossacks had learned their lesson from earlier in the day. They were not going to let Batgirl get any closer to them than the tips of their sabres, despite her being exhausted and covered with simulated spunk. The Cossack also were keeping this new heroine at arms length.

At first Olga was disappointed in Batgirl’s persistent survival, but after a few minutes she was making what Barbara could only assume to be lurid and coarse comments to her foot soldiers.

Nylonika, who seemed to understand the vulgarities being exchanged, spoke up. “Queen Bess is going to have your heads for this. Batgirl was supposed to be off limits.”

“Da, Bat-buschka was not to be harmed…” Olga Laughed. “We only have bit of rough fun… Politski were the ones killing her.” She pointed her saber tip to the building above. “They have fun… ve have fun… what harm?” She laughed and her Cossacks laughed with her.

“Besides, ve need to find Queen’s spy. Ve have you now, and I make no promise not to kill you…” Olga circled the tip of her weapon over the sheer body stocking covered Nylonika’s nipples. Barbara could see them harden and swell as the very point of the cold steel brushed them.

“You won’t get away with this!” Nylonika’s voice was tinged with anger.

“No, ve don’t, but ve try… and you and Bat-buschka be dead before ve caught… and 500 politiski jerking off while you die...”

“That might be hard to do, your coffin trap isn’t looking very ‘trappy.’” Nylonika pointed at the pile of broken wood and gallons of spilt tapioca.

“Da, perhaps we find better way to dispose of spy and Bat-buschka…” Olga raise her saber point to just under Nylonika’s chin, forcing her back to the wall and her head up.

Having pinned Nylonika against the wall, Olga let her saber tip drop to the middle of her sternum, level with her erect nipples. “Ve see vhat Eggy has planned for two soon to be dead good-niks.”

Egghead returned just as Olga was starting to press the razor sharp tip suspended between her captive’s breasts.

“Here we go, Olga, my dear… Everything we need to have these two fight to the death” Egghead dumped a hideous yellow and white duffle bag on the floor. The hastily packed contents spilled out the open zipper.

Barbara looked at the collection of leather and ropes. “What are planning you slimy sleaze ball”

‘Oh Batgirl, you didn’t think I was going to let you escape with a quick and painful end did you?” Egghead pushed the saber of the Bessarovians down and away from the guards that had cornered and trapped the two heroines. “I have an egg-citing and egg-splicit demise planned for the both of you.”

Egghead knelt down and started pulling leather bondage gear from the bags, “but one of you is going to eggs-ecute the other, before meeting their finale demise.” Barbara immediately recognized the implements, and despite her fatigue lashed out at the Bessarovian guard nearest her.

Unfortunately, her exhaustion had slowed to the point she posed no real threat to the much larger man. He easily grabbed her arm and passed his saber to his companions. He twist her arm behind her, and quickly grabbed the other forcing them to her back.

Olga laughed at the ease with which the girl was subdued. A more pleasant outcome compared to Batgirl’s first encounter with her thugs. Olga and her other henchmen kept their sword tips point at the chest of Nylonika, ensuring that she would not get involved.

“Yes, Batgirl, a single glove…. This should make escape quite impossible.” Egghead toss the purple leather armbinder to one of the guards. He pulled a second leather armbinder from his bag. This one matched the black patent leather of Nylonika’s costume and had red lacing to match the accents on her disguise. Another two guards moved in on her, while being covered with Olga’s razor sharp blade.

Nylonika shot out a kick at the Cossack, but was at a disadvantage, the man grabbed her leg with a roar of guttural laughter, lifting it. Nylonika tried to kick with her still free leg only to have him grab that and force both ankles under his arms, pinning them to his body.

Completely off the ground, Nylonika writhed uselessly against the larger men. One of them slipped a red leather belt around her ankles and cinched it tight. He immediately used another belt above her knees. With each thrust and kick he cinched it tighter until all the fight was squeezed from her legs.

Once her kicks were no longer a threat, the two men focused on sliding her arms into the single glove.

With one of the men keeping an iron like grip on Nylonika’s arms they slipped her hand into the black leather. The bag opened up around her hands, but once the sleeve reached up to her armpits the men started to work the red laces from bottom to top, quickly locking her arms behind her. Once her wrists were cinched together, they tightened the red laces up her back and drew her elbows together forcing her breast out as her arms and shoulders were pulled back. pinning them uselessly behind her

They quickly finish securing the sleeve with a strap that cuts across her front and shoulders, preventing her from working the sleeves down her arms.

Now that Nylonika’s immobilization is complete, the men turn on Batgirl. Barbara’s purple leather single glow slides over her wrist and similarly up her arms. the black laces are pulled tight, only her purple gloved hands are exposed as the laces are worked impossibly tight. For added security, a black leather strap buckles around her wrist and above her elbows. her gloved hands extend uselessly from the bindings.

Once her arms are secured, the gang of thugs turn their focus on her legs, forcing her ankles to be cross before the black leather strapping are buckled tight on her ankles and knees.

“Well, don’t you two look pretty as a picture!” Egghead clapped his hands excitedly.

“You aren’t going to get away with this Egghead. Queen Bess is going to put your head on a pike once she finds out what you’ve been up to.” Barbara was only able to stay upright because the two Bessarovian Cossacks holding her up. Nylonika, in her black stiletto heels was no better off.

“Queen Bess is expecting me to report in… If she doesn’t get a report she is going to have the ambassador, Omar Orloff, investigate.” Nylonika was writhing and hissing as she spoke.

“Da, and Omar vill report that you have been arrested by Gotham Politski…” Olga smiled.

“...You see, Batgirl, Omar Orloff is a double agent. He is in exile just as Olga and I are. Omar is half Bessarovian and Bess sent him to Gotham because his loyalties were questionable.” Egghead looked at Olga. “Queen Bess’ instincts were egg-xactly right. Fortunately… for us, he will give us cover until we can return to Greater Bessarovia and Belgravia to take control of the Monarchy.”

There was buzzing at the door. Olga motioned to one of her Cossack to open it.

“So, Egghead, what have you planned for us?” Barbara’s mind was racing. She understood what Olga and Egghead wanted to accomplish, but she had no idea how she and Nylonika were going to escape. The sooner she knew what fate they planned, the more time she had to formulate and escape.

Two cossacks pushed a cart into the room on it was a box similar to the one Nylonika destroyed saving Batgirl from the flood of Tapioca.

“Well, Batgirl, something very special…” Egghead motioned to Olga. “Olga wanted to see you two fight to the death. I, however, am not willing to give the two of you any sort of weapons.”

“I guess you’ll just have to let us go then,” Nylonika added sarcastically.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… Nylonika… I would hate to deprive my dear Olga of her entertainment.” Egghead stroked his pencil mustache. “You see before you, Batgirl and Nylonika, a coffin built for two. The two of you are going to share the same fate.”

“But Eggy, You promised a fight to ze death?” Olga asked with a note of sarcasm leaking through her thick Bessarovian accent.

“Ah, an egg-cellent question, my cossack queen. You see Batgirl has a reputation for never giving up and at the same time being selfless in her pursuit of justice.”

“Da, they make me vant to barf borscht…” Olga interjected.

“Yes, a disturbing habit that has made getting rid of the pesky redhead most annoying.” Egghead rubbed hairless chin. “Add to that, this pesky spy, Nylonika. She is sworn (I assume) to die in service of Queen Bess.”

Olga gave a finger down the throat motion at the mention of her rival queen.

“Each one will selflessly give their lives to attain their respective goals” Egghead, smoothed his pencil thin mustache. “But, who’s goals?” Egghead was just getting started.

Barbara glanced at Nylonika. She was used to the convoluted logic of the ‘world’s most brilliant criminal mind.’ Nylonika raised her eyebrows, even at saber point, trying to follow his logic.

Egghead continued his explanation of what he expected to happen.

“So you see, my dear Batgirl, You and this traitorous tramp, Nylonika, will be forced to fight for which one of you will drown first. As they like to say in Bessarovia, ‘Voskhodyashchiy bukakke utopit vsekh zhenshchin’, or as you English only knaves say ‘Rising bukakke drowns all women.’”

Olga and her henchmen all nodded in agreement.

“Batgirl, you and Nylonika are going to be anchored to the bottom of this bukakke tank at your ankles. Our Cossack friends are going to dump as much of the salvageable tentacle spunk in as they can muster, while all of Gotham’s finest continue to enjoy the Egg-citement upstairs. As your the spunk deepens, one of you will have to perish first.

“Knowing the never give up, can do spirit you have, you, Batgirl will try to drown Nylonika.” Egghead motioned towards Nylonika. “And you, my traitorous trollop, will not want to end up dead in bottom of the box, will try to drown Batgirl.”

“Ach! That is brilliant, Eggy!” Olga caught the shear fabric of Nylonika’s top with her saber tip. With flick of her wrist, it opened a hole in the fabric. “Traitorous spy try to kill Bat-buschka and Bat-buschka try kill traitorous spy! Both die!”

Seeing her, handiwork, she turned on Batgirl. “Proper Bessarovian comfort woman need to experience cum on breasts! Bat-buschka need fresh air!” with a deft move of her blade, Olga cut across Barbara’s chest. The sharp metal sliced the of her uniform. Olga laughed with her cossacks as she grabbed the small tear and ripped it wide, exposing both of Barbara’s wet breasts to the moist, clammy air.

“You Cossacki cunt, you won’t get away with this!” Barbara spit more invectives as she struggled against the single glove and ropes holding her.

“Poor Batgirl, all tied up and no place to go….” Egghead was most entertained by her outburst. “Just waiting for her egg-zit…”

Nylonika kept struggling, too. but, like Batgirl, her struggles were futile. Olga went back to her and ripped her top more widely open. Now both heroines had their breasts exposed.

“Loshad' trakhayet verblyuzh'yu lapku!” Nylonika cussed in Bessarovian. Olga flew into a rage.

“Eggy! Ve teach traitor spy lesson” Barbara was worried that what ever Nylonika had said to Olga might get her killed. “get Eggs of Samarkan! Ve make sure spy and Bat-buschka have death they never forget!”

“Oh my, Olga! That is brilliant! Evilly brilliant! I’ve been working on them!” Egghead went to safe on the wall. A sign above the safe had ‘Torture Device prototype! Do not touch! May result in death!’

Egghead put on a pair of rubber gloves and twisted the combination into the safe and swung the thick metal door open on its hinges.

Egghead gingerly pulled out a velvet cloth and turned to the two heroines, carefully unwrapping the fabric.

He showed them two small egg shaped objects joined by a short cord. One was bright red and the other purple.

“What are those?” Nylonika struggled uselessly in the grip of one of the Cossacks.

“These, my dear Nylonika, are certain death!” Egghead was giddy, showing off his new toy. “You may have heard of the Eggs of Samarkan, a most brutal device from Bessarovian history.”

“Da! When spies are caught in the comfort houses of old Bessarovia, ve make examples of them. two victims… err, traitors are attached by Eggs of Samarkan and if string pulled from one egg, both egg go ‘Boom!’” Olga was reveling in the description and the boom part in particular.

“Yes, a messy, painful demise, I am afraid, Batgirl.” Egghead lifted up the two eggs and the short cord that connected them. “At Olga’s request, I have been refining them, bringing them up to date. Making them more… how shall we say… interesting?”

“Where do they go?” Nylonika asked, incredulously.

Barbara looked at her.

“Oh.”

“So what are you planning, you bald bastard?” Barbara spat.

“Dear Batgirl, I would never want to blow up that delicious body of yours or the lovely Nylonika…” Egghead pressed a small remote that had been packed with the devices. He moved the two eggs apart, as the cord between them tightened, they started to vibrate and crackle with static electricity. “This won’t be nearly so quick… or messy.”

“Olga, would you do the honors?” Egghead stepped back and let Olga take command. She snapped ordered to her Cossacks, who lifted the two heroines into their joint coffin. one of the men held the two struggling women together while another tied their bound ankles to metal ring anchored to the velvet bottom.

With the two burly men holding them down, Batigrl and Nylonika screamed insults in a mix of English and Bessarovian at their captors.

“Allow me..”Egghead produced two ball gags from his collection of bondage and fetish paraphernalia. He handed a red ballgag to one lacky and a purple one to the other. “This should spare us from such shocking language.”

The men force the balls into the heroines’ mouths and roughly cinched the gags tight in place.

“That should do it” Egghead chortled, “Enough sound to egg-joy, but not enough to scramble eggs…”

“Nothing like the sounds of a beautiful woman being slowly egg-cecuted…”

Olga set to the task of cutting open the crotch of Batgirl’s and Nylonika’s crime fighting costumes.

Two Cossacks untied each of the heroine’s knees and held them spread while Olga forced the eggs inside the women. She slathered them with copious amounts of the synthetic tentacle cum to help make inserting them easier. The short tether between the two eggs meant that once the devices were inside the women, they needed to lay on their sides facing each other, breast to breast and hip to hip.

“There we go Batgirl, Nylonika… two peas in a pod…” Egghead walked over to a control lever. A sign above it was labelled ‘Synthetic Tentacle Cum.’ Four settings were listed, Policeman, Cossack, Stallion and Blue Whale. The current setting was at Cossack. He shifted it to Stallion and pushed another lever from Pause to Resume.

Immediately several gallons of pent up Tapioca poured down on the two heroines. Globs of additional tapioca spattered out the trap and sprayed over Olga the already messy room. Thrilled, Olga clapped her hands with excitement. “Da! Da! Drown them in cum! Eggy, this is delicious!”

“Oh, but that is not all, my dear! I’ve saved the best for last!” Egghead lifted his hand to to show the remote control for the Eggs of Samarkan. “You see ladies, when I activate the eggs, it will also activate a devious electronic invention of mine that has been secreted in your gags. Each gag is fitted with a neodymium magnet, electronically connected to your eggs. The closer your magnets are to each other, the more egg-cited your eggs will get… The more egg-cited you will get.”

Barbara felt the electronic egg leap to life deep inside her womanhood. It vibrated relentlessly inside her, the tingle of electricity adding to the stimulation. Nylonika, eyes closed, arched her back to pull away from Batgirl. Both women were instantly gripped by ferocious orgasms.

Realizing how crippling the stimulation was fast becoming, Barbara arched her back to draw the gag as far from Nylonika as she could manage while keeping the joined at their hips.

Barbara screamed uselessly into her gag. It came out as little more than an excited moan. Nylonika did the same. Both women knew their lives, whatever was left them depended on keeping the lanyard between the two Eggs of Samarkan intact.

“Da! Da! Eggy! That is brilliant! Bat-buschka and traitor-spy become fried eggs! Ve ship them to to Krimilin and force Queen Bess to Dance on their graves!” Olga was clapping her hand in rhythm with the two struggling heroines. The other cossacks quickly joined in as they surrounded the rapidly filling coffin.

WHAT’S THIS? BATGIRL AND NYLONIKA TO BE FRIED FROM THE INSIDE OUT? OLGA AND EGGHEAD TO PUT QUEEN BESS TO FROSTED SWORDS? ARE BATMAN, ROBIN AND GCPD PUTTING A HAPPY ENDING ON BATGIRL? IS THIS THE FINAL EGG-XIT FOR OUR HEROINES? FIND OUT IN THE NEXT CHICKEN CHOKING EPISODE, SAME BAT-TIME, SAME BAT-CHANNEL

Part 7

Egghead looked up at the nozzles supplying cum to the coffin. After the initial flood of tapioca, the frequency of ejaculations had slowed noticeably. “I think our police officer guests are starting to be eggs-hausted. Come Olga, bring your men and show these knaves what real Bessarovians are capable of…”

“Eggy, you are right! Ve show American politski what real men do in peep show!” Olga barked some order to her men. They immediately started to remove their sword belts and unbutton their tunics as they filed towards the door.

Olga and Egghead were the last to leave. Olga looked on the two women and their futile struggle with satisfaction, “Da, Eggy and I will enjoy vatching your slow deaths in our chambers later tonight.”

She pushed Nylonika’s head closer to Batgirl’s. The magnets in their ballgags activated the Eggs of Samarkan deep inside the trapped heroines. The change in positions made the two eggs vibrate and gave the women enough electrical stimulation to force them both to orgasm.

Barbara stiffened and held perfectly still as the intense sensation radiated out into her body. She hadn't expected that Olga and Egghead would be so clever in one of their traps. She had completely underestimated them. She had never really appreciated the comfort women aspect of the Bessarovian culture. In her college dalliances with Queen Bess, Barbara had marveled at the sexual prowess of the then princess, but had always assumed it was attributed to the woman’s personal appetites and never thought it was the result of a culture where sexuality was the currency of power.

Looking at Nylonika, Barbara could see the devastating effect the Eggs of Samarkan were having on the other crimefighter. The mixture of vibrations deep inside their bodies and the electrical discharges were giving Nylonika an almost paralytic string of orgasms. Barbara was barely able to move herself, the stimulation was so intense.

Above the two women , Egghead and Olga were making redoubled efforts to encourage their police guests to enjoy the decadent thrills available in the various peep shows and, worse yet, glory holes.
Soon, the flow of tapioca had not only resumed, but had intensified as more and more jets of simulated cum rained down upon them from above.

Both heroines were covered in a thickening and clinging layer of translucent white slime. As hard as Barbara struggled, it seemed completely futile. The cum was filling the box and it did not flow off the two women, but instead clung to them insidiously, forming an ever thickening layer.

Periodic jets shot across their faces, coating their eyes and blocking their gagged mouths, making breathing a torture. The cum was sticky and invasive and clung to everything it touched, filling every breath with a mixture of warm wet cum and saliva, clogging their airways and temporarily blocking their noses and eyes.

Babara was desperate, it was n’t just her life on the line. Nylonika was here because she had tried to save Batgirl and now was going to die drowning in synthetic cum and forced orgasms. Worse, Olga was going to use their murder as part of a coup d'état against Queen Bess and plunder whatever riches were left in Greater Bessarovia and Belgravia. She had to find an escape, before she and Nylonika were buried alive in this coffin of cum.

Fighting hard to focus, Barbara stuggle to gain control of her sense. The Egg of Samarkan, nestled deep in side her was made focus almost impossible. If her or Nylonika’s gagged mouth moved only slightly closer to the other, it would set off a series of electronic stimulation married to the vibrations of the eggs. Barrbara had no doubt that Egghead’s claim that disconnecting the contact string connecting the two eggs would prove fatal for both women. She feared, even worse, it would not be quick, but a drawn out execution by orgasm.

Barbara fought to focus her attention on her bondage. She had already been coated in a complete layer of the slimy layer of tapioca before she was tied and strapped into the Single glove. Her hands were not encased like Nylonika had, not that that gave her any significant advantage. Her arms were uselessly pinioned behind her back just as tightly.

As she thrashed and struggled, Barbara could feel the lake of warm white cum getting deeper and she was floating slightly in the liquid and it continued to deepen around her. Their ankles were locked to the bottom of the trap, and was going to limit how long either woman could stay above the surface.

Barbara had no way to communicate with the other heroine and time was running out. She looked her companion and tried to desperately formulate a plan.

The single glove that was pinning Nylonika’s arms behind her back was not identical to Barbara’s. Her’s covered her arms down to the ends of her hands. two straps held the gloves up by going over the shoulders. A strap ran across her chest and prevented the two shoulder straps from slipping off. With her arms pulled so far back, it was almost unnecessary.

Almost. Unnecessary. That was it! Barbara squealed from her gag. Her single glove didn’t have a strap across the front. If Barbara only had a way to scrape the straps off her shoulders, she might be able to wiggle her sleeve down far enough to create slack and escape it.

But how? The box was fabric lined and there were no nails or hooks she could use to pull the leather off her shoulder. She looked at Nylonika, she was barely able to keep her face above the ever deepening pool of slime.

The ball gags were so coated with fake cum that gag talk was impossible. Barbara needed to make Nylonika understand what needed to be done if they were both to survive this ordeal.

It was an impossible task, but Barbara had no choice, damn the consequences.

Barbara pushed her way through the thick slime. It wasn’t really swimming or pushing, it was more of random squirms and wriggles in the thick wet muck until she was face to face with the other heroine. The Eggs of Samarkan had been designed specifically to prevent this and her knee tied together, there was no way to eject the egg. Barbara just had to survive the sexual onslaught her actions caused.

Barbara understood what she was doing, but had no way of explaining it to Nylonika. For all the redhead knew, Barbara was trying to drown her, just as Olga had hoped she would.

Ignoring the intense sensations she was enduring as the two ball gags became close, Barbara took her gagged mouth and use her teeth to push on the strap of Nylonika’s single glove. It took a minute and Nylonika tried to struggle in the other direction to escape.

But the moment Barbara pulled the strap off Nylonika’s shoulder, Barbara backed off and rolled onto her back.

It took a moment for Nylonika to grasp what had happened. She could see that Barbara wanted her to do something, and then she saw that Barbara’s single glove was only held on by the shoulders

Cum was still raining down on them and both heroines were barely able to keep their heads above the slimy surface of thick liquid tapioca. The Eggs were deep inside both women and relentlessly forcing them into a near continuous chain of orgasms. Now that they were in even closer proximity, the eggs were buzzing deep inside the heroines. Barbara could feel the electricity crackling through her body, stimulating repeated waves of orgasm.

Fighting to keep focus on escape, Barbara prayed that Nylonika could keep focused and not succumb to the deadly sexual onslaught. She could feel the redhead’s body, quaking in repeated orgasms. Egghead’s death trap was by far, his most insidious. Barbara had a plan, but she was losing the ability to focus. She hoped Nylonika would get her message and reciprocate.

Barbara leaned back as much as she could and the egg’s started to slow as she moved her gag away from Nylonika’s. She was nearly unconscious from the intense orgasms. The pool of synthetic cum clung to her face and skin. She knew if she passed out, she would soon drown and Nylonika with her.

Already exhausted from her experience in the solo trap, Barbara kept her eyes closed. She needed to keep her focus on staying alive and her face clear of the periodic jets of cumlike tapioca splashing around her and across her face.

Suddenly she felt the intensifying buzz of her egg, at once she was horrified that she would find herself convulsing beneath the surface.

It was a moment before she felt Nylonika nuzzling up against her breast. Barbara had almost forgotten the message she was trying to convey to her co-captive. She could feel Nylonika’s teeth rubbing against her chest, blindly looking for the strap on her single glove.

With the ball gag in her mouth, Nylonika was never going to unhook the buckle, but she didn’t need to. Barbara prayed that her companion would figure it out for herself. She could feel Nylonika pushing her face against one of the straps.

Barbara could feel her trying to work the strap off her shoulder, but it was on very tight and Nylonika only had the edge of her teeth exposed from the ball gag to catch the leather, her head completely submerged in the opaque liquid. Barbara worried Nylonika would not be able to surface and if she did, the slimy mix, clinging to her face, might not let her catch her breath.

Olga and Egghead had become much more sadistic during their time of forced labor in the Tapioca mines of Bessarovian Steppes.

Nylonika was struggling under the surface desperate to force the leather strap off Barbara. Not wanting to have the other heroine drown in the attempt, Barbara started rolling on her back to raise Nylonika to the surface.

Unfortunately the weight of the Nylonika laying on top, forced Barbara down into the rising liquid, which had become so thick that she did not float back to the surface.

Barbara understood what Olga had intended for the Eggs of Samarkan. It would be almost impossible for Barbara to struggle back to the surface to breath in this vile mess.

She could feel Nylonika, ignoring all risk to herself in her efforts to free Batgirl, biting and pushing with her teeth to get the leather strap over Barbara’s shoulder. Barbara was certain she was going to die with the egg deep inside her, vibrating and discharging electric shocks. She could feel her head being pressed against the bottom of the coffing by the weight of the other girl on top of her.

With her arms pinned behind her, Barbara was unable to create enough leverage to lift herself back to the surface of the pool of synthetic cum. She tried to hold on as long as she could.

She felt Nylonika move the strap up her shoulder, it was digging in, but definitely moving. Barbara pushed off the bottom of the box as much as she could, to save Nylonika from drowning and getting her own breath of air. She could feel her forehead break the surface and just as did, Nylonika rolled of to her side.

For a moment, Barbara thought she had just undone all the work Nylonika had made moving the strap from the single glove, but Nylonika hooked her front teeth on the leather as she slipped to the side, pulling the strap free of Batgirl.

Without the weight of the other girl pinning her down, Barbara’s face broke the surface of the swamp of fake cum. She blew out hard from her mouth and nose and gasped for air, aspirating some of the tapioca but grabbing a gulp of air.

Barbara opened her eyes and saw that Nylonika was struggling face down in the pool of simulated semen, with her arms pinioned behind her, she had no way of rolling herself over in the confines of the box.

Barbara gulped some air and used her shoulder to push the other heroine to the surface.

Nylonika choked and sputtered as was finally able to raise her head to the surface. Barbara butted her head up against Nylonika. Their gags are right next to each other but both women can breath, Egghead’s deadly toys were hard at play inside both women,

Nylonika is moaning into her gag as more she and Barbara are shaken to their cores. Barbara presses her body against Nylonika rubbing her breast to breast as they press together in earthquaking orgasms…

Closing her eyes to protect them from the sticky tapioca. Barbara could feel the other heroine filling her lungs. Barbara held up Nylonika as long as she could. The intense stimulation of the two eggs only let hold her breath for a few seconds before her lungs felt like they were going to burst. She relaxed force on the red headed heroine and fought to get her own face above the surface.

She grabbed a few breaths as she rolled back slightly. The coffin was narrow for two women, but Barbara remembered the threat that Egghead had made. If she and Nylonika became far enough apart, and the cord between the two eggs were pulled out, the eggs would quickly eliminate both heroines.

With one of the straps off her shoulder, Barbara could feel some slack in the other. The wet material of the single glove was swollen and sagging. Barbara pushed at the remaining strap with her chin. It was futile and she could barely hold her breath for more than a few seconds. Her exhaustion was mounting. The thick pool of tapioca made all struggles a brutal effort.

As much as she worked to get the strap to move, she still had to keep her hips close to Nylonika. The tapioca clung to both women and made surfacing to breathe an almost useless effort, barely giving either woman enough air to pay for the effort.

Barbara thought about giving up, she was so tired and her body was so played out by the endless orgasms and deepening quagmire. She thought about the peace of just floating in the thick ooze and not fighting it any longer. She could give up and escape this in just a matter of minutes.

She caught herself in this lie of failure. Nylonika would die, too. Olga and Egghead would steal the Bessarovian throne, and make an impoverished people even more impoverished. She couldn’t give up and escape so easily, too many others would suffer.

Barbara pushed on the remaining strap with her chin. With one strap off her shoulder, there was a lot more play in it.

After cycling between pushing the strap with her chin and struggling to grab another breath of air, Barbara moved the buckle to the edge of her shoulder, finally pushing it off.

feeling the material on the single glove relax, Barbara stopped and took stock of her surroundings. The box was almost full with the fake tentacle cum, Nylonika was struggling to keep her face above water and was barely able to move, the slightest shift in her body pulled her into the opaque mess that was to be their tomb.

Barbara started working her elbows back and forth in the slime. The single glove was both lubricated on the inside by the liquid and resisting her struggles on the outside. With what seemed like an eternity, she worked it down her arms until it was bunched up on her wrists. Now that the laces were no longer stretched over her arms, Barbara was able to pull one arm free.

She pushed up off the bottom with her right hand as she struggled to bring her left hand out of the slime and to her front. She looked down at Nylonika as she raised her head. Exhausted beyond words, Barbara looked at the exhaust Nylonika. She was mostly suspended in thick ooze, that was now starting to to congeal into a near solid.

The final few inches of tapioca would certainly bury both women’s faces into what would become their tomb.

Barbara grabbed Nylonika and pulled the girl up to a more sitting position. She had only arm free, her other was still tangled behind her back in the remnants of the single glove, but she could prop herself off the bottom of the casket with it.

Barbara tried to unbuckle the gag from her mouth, she could reach it, but her fingers weren’t strong enough to unbuckle it. Instead she tried to work on Nylonika’s gag. Nylonika turned her head away so Barbara could better see what she was doing. Because of the cord connecting the two eggs the women shared, Barbara and Nylonika still very intimately pressed together.

Barbara pulled the strap on Nylonika’s ball gag open. Even though the gag was undone, it was so large, the redhead couldn’t spit it out on her own. Barbara pulled at the gag strap, trying to dislodge it from the other girl’s mouth.

Nylonika gave out an exhausted moan as the rubber ball slowly pulled free. “Oh my god, thanks batgirl. I thought we were done for.”

Barbara flung the gag across the room in a haphazard attempt to get it as far away from her own as possible. Finally, the buzzing and shocks deep in her body stopped.

Exhausted, Barbara fell back in their would-be tomb and tried to extricate the deadly toy from between her legs. Olga had pushed it deep inside her and it’s smooth exterior made retrieving it impossible. Barbara realized they were meant for a one way trip…

The idea of pulling it out by the cord briefly crossed her mind, but she remembered what the deadly consequences of that would be.

“Batgirl, I have some shears in the front pouch of my utility belt. Use them to cut the detonator between the eggs.” Batgirl hesitated, she briefly thought about Egghead and his devices. An electronic connection to the fuses would make sense, but he said he had been working on it, not that it was perfected. Barbara found a pair of medical shears where Nylonika said they would be.

Barbara debated cutting her gag strap and arguing with Nylonika, but the idea of the electric death-dildos tied together inside like a booby trap was more than she could risk for another second.

Barbara reached down, closed her eyes and snipped the pull string detonator connecting the two heroines.

ARE BATGIRL AND NYLONIKA ABOUT TO BE BUZZED TO BITS? ARE OLGA & EGGHEAD GOING TO GET OFF WATCHING THEM GET OFFED? DOES QUEEN BESS REALIZE OLGA IS FULL OF B.S.? FIND OUT IN THE CUM FILLED CONCLUSION SAME BAT-TIME, SAME BAT-CHANNEL

Part 8

Both heroines closed their eyes as they felt the string cut. Relieved of tension, both strings retracted most of the way into the two heroines. Barbara realized that the strings had been retracting inside the egg-shaped devices. Had she not cut it, the death dealing dildos would have eventually been pulled out of at least one or both the eggs, leading to their certain deaths.

Feeling between her legs, Barbara tried to extract the smooth, round device from inside her. As she wriggled to reach it, her exposed breasts rubbed up against the hard nipples of Nylonika.

Two thirds submerged in the warm, soft tapioca, Barbara had to struggle hard to move her body against the thickening glop. As she did, the eggs resumed their dance with her.

“Can you turn around, Nylonika?” Barbara held tight to the shears. She knew losing them in solidifying mass cum like tapioca might still prove fatal.

Nylonika squished from side to side, “I’m trying Batgirl, but this mess is getting thicker every minute.”

“Keep trying, I need to cut your single glove. If you can get your arms free, I think we can get out of this mess….” Barbara reached down to the bottom of their coffin and could feel Nylonika’s wrapped hands slipping out from under her ass. reaching with the scissors required Barbara to sink down to putting her mouth just above the thickening cum. Nylonika likewise was almost completely submerged from the effort.

Barbara managed to find one of the laces binding Nylonika’s single sleeve tight. She snipped at it repeatedly, trying to get the lace to snap. The more she struggled to get the cut started the deeper she sank into the hardening ooze. Finally, in desperation she felt the over tightened laces snap. Barbara struggled to stay at the surface, the setting pudding was holding her down even as more of warm liquid cum plopped down on the two women.

Even with the laces cut, Nylonika’s wrists were still trapped behind her back. Barbara snipped at the soft kid leather, trying to free the other heroine.

Feeling the loss of tension on her arms, Nylonika struggled to shift her wrists back and forth inside the sleeve. Slowly her arms worked in enough slack that she was able to struggle out of it.

Like Barbara, Nylonika arms were numb with lost circulation and despite her arms no longer being pinned behind her, she had trouble getting them the rest of the way out of the single sleeve and infront of her.

The simulated tentacle cum was still setting and the tapioca pearls were quickly agglutinating as the mixture cooled around them. Both women were exhausted. The tapioca mixture was warm and Batgirl and Nylonika were sweating profusely in the warm mixture even as it slowly set.

Olga’s death trap was not very deep and both girls could have easily sat in it with their heads above the top. Except they weren’t sitting, they were laying down and their bound legs were securely anchored to the bottom of the trap. The thickening ooze made moving into a sitting position almost an impossible task as it had become as heavy and thick as wet cement.

Barbara slowly pushed herself up in the orgasmic sludge and wiped tapioca pearls from her face and tried to help Nylonika and herself up to a sitting position.

“Oh God, Batgirl, I was certain we were goners,” Nylonika was just barely able to pull her limp arms from the white gelatinous pool of synthetic cum. Both women started the laborious process of digging their legs out of the cement like semen.

Barbara gave Nylonika the shears back and pulled a knife from her own utility belt, cutting away at her restraints as quickly as she could uncover them. All the while, more and more of the synthetic sum rained down on them.

“We aren’t out of here, yet.” Barbara tried to fumble with her weak fingers to dislodge Egghead’s sex toy from between her legs as soon as she could spread her thighs. She could barely get her fingers on the string much less remove it from her pussy.

Nylonika lifted her egg shaped vibrator from the tapioca, “Oh my god, it feels so good to have that out of my pussy… I mean, it was fucking amazing..., but…” Nylonika blushed, “not to die for…”

She tossed the egg away. It landed next to one of the gags and immediately started to rattle and emit a crackling sound as a blue plasma formed around it.

Seeing Nylonika’s vibrator going into terminal mode, Barbara worked at getting her own out.

“How did you get that out so quickly?” Barbara gasped.

“Kegel exercises… Lots of Kegel exercises.” Nylonika shook her hands, trying to get her blood circulation back. “Can you get it yourself?”

“No… I’m afraid my hands are almost completely numb… I haven’t got the grip strength to get it out…” Barbara was almost embarrassed to admit that she couldn’t extract Egghead’s Egg of Samarkan with the same ease the other heroine had….

“You’ve been tied up a lot longer than me. Let me see if I can help…” Nylonika wrapped her arm around Barbara. “You know what I am going to have to do, right?”

“Yeah, but it can’t stay in there…” Barbara had not even been able to think of possible consequences of trying to extract the device. She looked at the sizzling blue plasma and steam coming off of Nylonika’s egg which lay next to her gag and continued to rattle violently.

“I’ll try to get it out quick,” Nylonika pulled Barbara in close and slipped her hand into the muck of fake cum between Barbara’s thighs. She kissed Barbara on the cheek. “Here’s to good luck.”

Barbara turned and kissed Nylonika on her mouth. “Do it..”

Nylonika’s fingers slipped her fingers inside Barbara’s sex. Barbara huffed and moaned. The hours of continuous stimulation had left her entire pussy hyper stimulated. Barbara tried to keep still but the feeling of Nylonika’s gloved fingers probing was pushing her to a rapid and unwanted climax.

Her body started to shake as she felt Nylonika probing deep into the folds of her sex.

Nylonika pulled her and kissed her. Amazingly, her instincts proved correct, Barbara started kissing Nylonika back and relaxed, despite the throws of orgasm tha were washing over her. Nylonika’s fingertips reached the remnants of the string that had held the two vibrators together.

There was only one way Nylonika knew to remove it… She started rubbing Batgirl in her gloved fingers along her love canal.

Barbara started to cum even harder. her clint started to gush as she squirted onto Nylonika. The gush of cum lubricated the egg’s pathway out of her body.

Nylonika pulled gently as she felt the deadly device sliding out of the heroine’s sex. But, just as the egg started to move, she could also feel it being activated inside its victim. Nylonika gave it a hard tug and pulled it free from the inside of her companion.

Barbara gave a quivering moan as she felt the device being pulled clear of her body.

“Ahh… thank god… I was certain that was the end..” Barbara huffed when she could finally find her voice.

Pulling the crackling egg from the pool of synthetic cum between Batgirl’s legs, Nylonika flung sputtering egg across the room, striking the wall with a loud crack, emitted a blue flash and landed dead on the floor, lifeless.

“Kegel exercises. Lots of them,” said Nylonika.

“I’ll keep that in mind was all that the exhausted Barbara could manage.

The two finished extracting themselves from their bonds and the still growing mound of synthetic tentacle cum and climbed from their coffin.

Barbara looked around. “We should get out of here as quickly as possible. I have no idea when Olga and Egghead might come around to check on our demise.”

“Not without the Scimitar of Samarcan and the Egg of Ogg.” Nylonika was examining her destroyed costume. The sheer nylon fabric that covered her seemed especially good at combining with the tapioca-cum and created a wet, thin latex like coating on her body. Barbara’s Batgirl uniform was similarly coated. The tapioca paste seemed to stick less well to the heroines’ skin and had slid off their exposed breasts.

“Well, we need to act fast, I think Olga would find slicing us up with her scimitar more entertaining than Egghead’s two failed attempts at killing us.

Barbara looked around, “Isn’t this the secure room from back when this was the Belgravian Embassy during the Cold War?”

“Yeah, They would have used it for encrypting and decrypting messages, storing high value information, interrogating prisoners…” Nylonika realized where Barbara was heading with this idea. “There should be a secret vault hidden somewhere in here.”

Barbara and Nylonika started a methodical search of the room. Eventually they realized one of the video monitors was just a fake screen that was set on a hinge.

Nylonika pulled on the false panel and exposed the door of a very solid looking combination safe.

“Any suggestions?” Barbara looked at the combination lock. “Lenin’s birthday?”

“Stalin’s birthday?” Nylonika looked around the room. “You know, careers for those diplomats was never very long, they would be recalled to Belgravia at a moment’s notice and might never be heard from again…”

“So?” Barbara had never really thought about that.

“Well if diplomats would suddenly be sent off, never to return… keeping track of safe combinations must have been a hassle.”

“What are you getting at, Nylonika?”

Nylonika pulled a piece of paper that looked like some sort of sign in sheet from the back of the hidden door. Written in pencil were four sets of numbers. “Volia! Party Apparatchiks were notoriously lazy”

In less than a minute, Barbara and Nylonika were unloading the treasures from the safe.

“That still doesn’t get us out of this room. I can’t imagine Olga not posting a guard at the door…” Barbara put her hand to her chin. “Do you think Olga and Egghead are just as lazy as the Diplomats?”

“Probably even more lazy, criminals are always looking for the easy way.”

“That’s what I am thinking, too. I bet they have the original fire suppression system from forty years ago.” Barbara smiled to herself.

“I suppose so, but how does that help us?”

“Well, if we activate the fire sprinklers, everyone will have to evacuate the building.” Barbara moved over to the building’s security panel.

“Do you think those Bessarovian Cossacks will abandon their stations because of a little water?”

Barbara smiled, “No, but it won’t just be water…”

Nylonika gave Batgirl a sideways look. “What do you mean?”

“To make sure these diplomatic buildings weren’t looted by spies during a fire alarm, the sprinklers were loaded with a red dye to make any papers left out completely unreadable.” Barbara smiled. “Those sprinklers are filled with the same permanent dye packs banks use. It will take weeks to get the dye off their skin.”

Nylonika looked at Batgirl. “But all those girls and the entire Gotham Police force are up there. Do you really want to cover them in red ink?”

Barbara snorted, “Are you talking about the women who dressed up like me and cosplayed me getting fucked every which way but Sunday? Or are you talking about The five hundred policemen that were jerking off while watching?”

“Good point…” Nylonika thought for a moment. “This will make Olga and Egghead persona non grata in the Greater Bessarovia-Belgravia. If they lose their diplomatic immunity, they can go to prison in Gotham or be deported back for Queen Bess to punish.”

Barbara and Nylonika dug through the supplies in the room until they found some disposable decontamination suits and hoods. Nylonika wrapped the GB-B treasures in towels and plastic bags.

As they finished up Barbara saw that Olga and Egghead were heading down a stairwell, probably to check and see if the two heroines had been exterminated as planned.

Grabbing the master control, Barbara activated the sprinklers and fire alarm. The entire building erupted into chaos, Batgirl and Nylonika watched the monitors as the entire building began to be hosed down in red ink.

They watched for a couple of minutes as they saw policemen, prostitutes and Cossacks fleeing the building willy-nilly.

Nylonika leaned over and kissed Batgirl. “Thanks for helping me get these treasures back.”

“And thank you for saving my life… Twice.” Barbara gave Nylonika a lingering kiss. And then they joined the chaos of the rest of the building, heading for the street and disappearing separately into the crowd outside the building.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Barbara stood up from her seat at the table when she recognized her old rival entering the Restaurant.

“Marie!” Barbara waved her over,

“Barbara Gordon, as I live and breathe, don’t you look fantastic!” Marie Chersan beamed, her red hair spilled down onto her shoulder and red lips smiled in excitement.

“You look exactly the same as you did at the judo championship! well, with better make-up." Both women laughed as Marie joined Barbara.

“I was so happy to hear from you! How long are you in town for?” Barbara leaned into her old adversary giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Only a few more days, sadly.” Marie smiled. “I’m working as a lawyer in Capital City and the Government of Greater Bessarovia and Belgravia hired me to recover some national treasures from the Wayne Foundation.”

“I heard. That sounds like some pretty exciting work, getting to travel around and argue cases.” Barbara smiled.

“You don’t know the half of it…” Marie smiled and took an experimental sip of the cocktail that was already waiting for her.

Barbara smiled back, ‘I bet I do,’ she thought to herself.

“Anyway, the Egg of Ogg and the Scimitar of Samarcan were both returned after that debacle at the Bessarovian Consular building. Apparently, The Wayne foundation didn’t have them and they were recovered by Batgirl from Consul when the sprinkler system went off.”

“Really? Batgirl?”

“Yes, I didn’t meet her, but she delivered them.” Marie took another swallow from her drink. “I was in court today and the judge gave me a summary judgement. Bruce Wayne was a no show for the hearing and since I already have the treasures back in my possession, he saw no reason to not rule in our favor.”

“I heard that everyone that was at the consul that night got soaked in red dye,” Barbara giggled. “Father and Chief O’Hara were both there… I have never seen him so livid. Apparently, every officer in the department went home to their wives and girlfriends with red faces.”

“It would be very embarrassing to have to admit they were at a giant peep show…” Marie laughed.

“No, I mean they were completely doused with red ink… Worse yet, apparently, they were all using glory holes… and in addition to their heads, a lot of them got it on their manhoods.” Barbara couldn’t help but laugh. “My mother was absolutely infuriated. Daddy wasl sleeping on my couch for three days.”

“I saw the papers were referring to Egghead as the Easter Egghead,” Marie had trouble not having her drink come out of her nose. “I think it will be quite a while before they turn up again…”

Barbara raised her glass. “Well, congratulations! So what made you think of me all of a sudden?”

“We have a mutual friend that suggested I look you up while I was in town… She brought up our old rivalry.” Marie gave a knowing smile and a wink.

“And who would that be?” Barbara tried hard not to wink back.

“Queen Bess, I heard quite a bit about you from her… Apparently you two were quite the item back when she was at Gotham State.”

Barbara blushed, she hadn’t expected that. Queen Bess had always kept her relationships very discrete.

“She told me that if I had time in Gotham, I should look you up for some sparring…” Marie gave her drink a sip. “I have a couple of days left before I need to leave, so I am taking her advice…”

Barbara smiled, “am I supposed to invite you up to look at my etchings? Or are we going to have a rematch at the gym tomorrow?”

“You have etchings?” Marie and Barbara exchanged demure smiles.

“No, but if you want, we can pretend I do…” Barbara raised her glass to meet Marie’s.

FINIS

Loshad' trakhayet verblyuzh'yu lapku = Horse fucking camel toe.