Tuesday
Dawn approached with embers in the hearth and Joey asleep on the sofa, still clad in his white robe. Batgirl remained on guard the whole evening, attentive to another attack and encumbered by her conscience for the lapse in judgment. At 7:00AM the Commissioner and a new strapping cop entered the mansion. Gordon introduced him but Batgirl did not fully catch his name. All she heard was her father saying that he was trustworthy and that Guzman still had not surfaced. Batgirl relayed the details of the attack, the number of assailants and apologized for not being able to apprehend any. She suggested they move again to a new location immediately. Her remarks noted, she then sought to leave quickly, eschewing her normal social graces, for she wanted to be out of the mansion before they woke up Joey.
Back at her apartment Barbara Gordon wrestled with another dilemma. Who could have tipped off the attackers? As far as she knew the DA, her father, and herself were the only ones who knew of this hideout. It wasn’t even listed in the police files as a potential site (she hacked the GCPD mainframe to confirm). She knew she was not the mole. She was as equally convinced that her father was beyond reproach. That only left the DA. She would check his office and cell phones for all outgoing and incoming communications.
Her next priority was to clean her Bat outfits. The lycra costume was fun for the afternoon but inspecting her bruises in the mirror reminded her why she abandoned it in the first place: her job was too violent for a non-armored crime fighting kit. She gathered up her various Batgirl uniforms and crossed over to the next-door apartment which appeared to any outside observer as occupied but was secretly kept vacant to provide an extra measure of privacy that her moonlighting demanded. For Barbara Gordon it was one of the unpublicized benefits of being a Powerball lottery winner and owning the entire building.
Cleaning Batsuits was as drab a chore as any day committed to laundry. Due to the nature of the materials they needed special industrial grade machines and although she had access to resources at WayneTech for repairs, she often completed them herself. She was a team with Batman and to a lesser extent, Robin, but her natural inclination was to do things by herself. It was an accountability she liked but on days like today, it was a curse.
Normally, days like today left her ample time to read, surf the web, or devote time to the many charities she supported. However, her concentration levels were not up to any of those enjoyments. She kept replaying in non-sequential order the events of the previous night: spitting out the little bit of pre-come that he snuck into her mouth, inspecting the mansion, fighting unconventionally, the risk of trying to climb onto a hovering helicopter, book discussions, taking Joey’s big curved dick in her mouth, going to work in that old outfit. In general, making herself vulnerable.
Worse, the more she thought about the blowjob, the less she felt guilty about it. In fact, a few times she caught herself fantasizing about having his “sausage” in her. It must feel divine. And I do know him, sort of. Who hasn’t had a date later in life with an old crush?
But it was wrong, wasn’t it? She was sure Batman did not have conflicts between the rational and emotional minds.
Barbara was struggling in this new conflicting territory. She needed an ear to share her thoughts but the list was woefully short. Batman was out of town and even if he was available it really would be a non-approachable topic. He was too judgmental and did not have any semblance of girlfriend skills. Her girlfriends? “Friends” would be an arbitrary word with the bunch of women with whom she socialized. Even if she could weave a story explaining her conflict without admitting she was Batgirl, she really did not trust or respect their opinions too much.
By the late afternoon, the answer came to her: Lucinda from the strip club. Maybe she had stepped over the line with a client or known girls who did. How did she handle it? Lucinda was younger than Barbara but she reasoned good advice was worth taking regardless of age. Besides, she did seem sweet and trustworthy with sensitive information.
At 1AM, Barbara began her transformation into Batgirl. With no plans for crime fighting on her night off - just conversation - she chose one of her newer outfits. With a twist of superstition, she deliberately avoided the one she wore to the club previously. Knowing it will be a night of girl talk she almost felt compelled to put on a bit of makeup and briefly wondered why women sometimes dress up more for each other than for men.
Given how close the club was to her building Batgirl debated if it would be better to scale the rooftops to the club instead of firing up her bike. She deliberated the issue longer than she usually did on mundane topics. Was she stalling? Eventually, she decided the bike would be the best option because she determined there was a better chance of running into a criminal on some rooftop than whizzing by on her ninja bike. After all, she really only wanted to speak to Lucinda and not become wrapped up in some petty street crime.
Blasting through the dropping fake wall she sped around the corner of the alley into another alley only to find the entrance blocked by a car transporter truck. She flitted to where it was parked and concluded the driver was gone for a while so she backed up and assessed the difficulty factor. The transporter trailer was in the lowered position so she knew she had a ramp over the obstacle. Her only concern was how far the bike would travel in the air once she reached the end. She decided to take it slow and inspect the view from the top. The street width with sidewalks was maybe 40 feet. She needed speed to position the bike properly for a landing but too much speed would send her crashing into the storefront across the street. Fortunately, there was no foot traffic on the street and this would be great practice if the situation ever arose in a chase.
Batgirl calculated she would need to reach about 35 mph. Again going back to the depth of the alley, she throttled the bike and began her approach. At the end of the trailer, she pulled slightly up on the handle bars with the idea to hit the street and control the landing while turning the bike on the sidewalk. She was airborne and her stunt was executing perfectly when she suddenly noticed a homeless man on the opposite sidewalk. She would need to make the turn immediately and sharply. The landing jolted the bike and the rear wheel positioned itself in the oppositely to the direction she planned to turn. The man was frozen seemingly ready to accept his fate. Batgirl kept hold of the bike and coached herself to make the turn, make the turn. Her bike was perpendicular to the man and aimed perfectly. The velocity was too great to stop the bike and jumping off would only save her and definitely crush him. Without thinking she throttled the ninja hoping the wheels would clutch the surface and spring her in a forward direction. The wheels spun. Impact was in decimals of seconds. And then slipping became a gripping friction and the bike shot forward with the wheels providing a rubber shine to his worn old boots.
At first wanting to speed away, Batgirl turned the bike around and went to see if the man was alright. Trembling, he assured her he was okay.
“Is there anything I can get you, sir,” Batgirl beseeched with guilt ridden urgency.
“No, no I’m fine,” he replied, “go and get those criminals, Batgirl.”
This made her feel guiltier because she knew she was just horsing around.
“Do you have a place to sleep tonight, sir?” What could she do to make this up to him?
“I’ll be okay. I got me a place where I sleep and no one bothers me.”
A bit desperate Batgirl withdrew cash from her utility belt and gave it to the man hoping he would indulge himself with a decent room. It was false charity but he was satisfied. Her next stop would be the club and she vowed to get there without incident.
Adjusting her weight on one of the barstools Lucinda added up the night’s receipts once again. She was proud that Larry had trusted her with the responsibility to close the bar once again. Over the past couple of months his mother had been ill and after making sure club operations were running smoothly and depositing the first wave of cash in his office safe, he took off to be with her. He genuinely cared about his mother and Lucinda sometimes thought she was the only one who saw that side of him. Of course, using her to close was cheaper than hiring an accountant but he did not choose her arbitrarily – she was good with numbers and she took time to do things thoroughly. She knew that Larry believed he was the only one who truly cared about his business and that left on their own, his employees would all rob him blind. By selecting her, he was telling her that he had confidence in her principles.
This faith was important to Lucinda and made the City more tolerable. It was easy to dismiss everyone in Gotham City as self-absorbed loners but his trust and the community he tried to build among the dancers, reminded her of the small-town lifestyle that she grew up in. She worked hard and made an honest living and for that she could hold her head high. Her family back home knew what she did for a living. They would have preferred she had other options but they understood she made her own choices.
Lucinda had worked the pole before in a town close to where she grew up. Industry long since abandoned her community and it did not leave a girl with many career opportunities. So, she danced and did well. It did not bother her that boys she grew up with saw her dance but given the economic conditions she was saddened that the money wasn’t going back into their families. Finally, she decided to head to Gotham where the men and money were anonymous and where she could earn her keep and help her folks out as well.
She liked how the club had a different personality after hours. It seemed bigger without the crowds and the space was refreshing. The first few times she was a bit apprehensive to be in the club alone and kept the sound system on for company. Tonight, however, she decided to enjoy the solitude of the quiet.
The silence was disturbed by a noise, a voice, coming from the dressing room. Immediately, she cursed herself for not checking to see that the last girl had shut the door properly. She put the receipts in the strong box with the last shift’s cash and hid them behind the bar. She then reached under the bar for the baseball bat. Years of town softball gave her a poised grip on the weapon. She noiselessly made her way to the stage and stood at the entrance waiting for the poor sap that tried to invade her space. She tried to time her swing with the emergence of the body when she heard “Lucinda?” but it was too late and she connected cleanly for an extra base hit across the intruder’s chest. She saw Batgirl’s body fly backwards and land hard, butt to head, on the floor.
“Oh my God, what have I done?” as she darted to the Caped Crusader’s aid, “Are you alright, Batgirl?” At first, the Crimefighting Mistress remained inert and said nothing. As Lucinda kneeled over her wondering what to do, Batgirl’s gloved hand clutched her neck with astounding speed and fury. As Batgirl realized who she was choking she released her grip and apologized.
“No, Batgirl, it should be me apologizing to you. I heard a noise and instead of checking it out first, I grabbed the bat and swung at the first thing I saw. You must be so mad at me.” She thought she had blown her chance at friendship with the City’s famous superheroine. After the previous night she had called her family to tell them that she had met Batgirl in person and told them how excited and nervous she was. She didn’t give them all the details that led up to the encounter but she assured them that Batgirl was so nice and so beautiful and that she had promised to return. Now, how was she going to tell them that she had clobbered the poor woman?
“I just came in to see you and chat and I thought it strange that the club was quiet and empty but the back door was still open. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Batgirl added with a smile, “I guess I don’t have to worry about that again.”
Lucinda explained how it was a slow night and Larry had given her permission to close early before leaving. Batgirl listened as all the circumstances were justified. Lucinda wondered if she was rambling as she went through every detail and praised Larry but Batgirl paid attention to every detail and maintained firm eye contact with every word.
As she continued to talk, she noticed Batgirl seemed a bit quieter than the other night. Not that Batgirl said a lot of words in the dressing room after her ordeal but the air of confidence that was so over powering, even in her fatigue, was missing this night.
“Batgirl, are you okay?”
“Yes, Lucinda, I’m fine.”
“No, I don’t mean physically. You seem a bit, well, off tonight.”
“Do I?” Batgirl seemed surprised. Lucinda wasn’t sure if it was at her perceptiveness or directness. Batgirl started forming a ‘no’ but stopped and started over, “Actually, I feel like I have been making some bad decisions lately and…but you’re busy, you need to close, I can come back.”
“Nonsense, Batgirl. I finished just as you arrived. The rest of the night is yours. Would you like a glass of wine?” Lucinda couldn’t believe that Batgirl was going to confide in her. She noticed a hesitation in her response. “Don’t worry, I already went up to Larry’s office and turned off all the video cameras, even the ones he thinks I don’t know about. Nobody will know that you’ve been here but me.”
Batgirl made a declarative statement that she never drank on the job but since she technically wasn’t working, a glass of wine – red – would be nice. I can’t believe Batgirl came out tonight just to see me, Lucinda exclaimed to herself.
Since it took her so long to figure out who to talk to, Batgirl never really planned how she would bring up the subject with Lucinda. She didn’t want to imply that her potential confident was loose but she needed an ear and an opinion. The bottom of the first glass still had not given her the courage to open up. The second one was much more liberating. “Lucinda, I don’t know how to ask this, and I do not want to offend you in any way, but what’s your policy on dating your clients?”
“Dating? What do you mean by dating, Batgirl?”
“Well, have you ever met someone while working and decided, ‘hey I like his look or his style’ and gone home with him?”
“Do you mean have I ever slept with someone I danced for at the club?” Batgirl wasn’t sure if her tone was clarifying or insulted. There was a slight pause. “Yes, yes I have. Why do you ask?”
“Oh please, I am not being judgmental. It’s just that...” and Batgirl proceeded to tell Lucinda how she crossed her line. She wished she had prepared better because she wanted to be as forthright as she could with Lucinda but she did not want to divulge Joey Soprano’s name. After the trial Lucinda could probably figure it out but at least he would be in Witness Protection by then.
“Well, if you don’t mind me asking, how far did you actually go with him?”
“I, I gave him a blowjob.” It felt weird admitting it out loud.
“Tell me honestly, Batgirl, if you weren’t who you were would you still want to be with him?”
“Kind of, yes, you see I knew a long time ago before I was Batgirl.” She was on perilous ground for releasing too much personal information. “Is that what you meant by your question?”
“No, what I mean is, are you willing to give up being Batgirl in order to be with him?”
Batgirl hadn’t thought about that. “Maybe if circumstances were different,” she really did not want the life he was going to, “but they are not, so no.” Batgirl took the last sip of her third glass.
“I have been with two guys I met in the clubs, one from back home and one here in Gotham City. After a couple of dates both wanted me to quit what I was doing. They said they would take care of me. Well, I wasn’t asking to be rescued. It’s like they were attracted to me for what I do but then once we were intimate they felt they had a possession over me and wanted to change me into some other person. Will he let you remain as Batgirl?”
His remote relocation had no room for Batgirl. It would be a part of herself she would have to forsake. Even if he wasn’t going into hiding, for as much as she liked him, she knew Joey had to be the strong alpha in a relationship. “No, no he wouldn’t.”
Lucinda poured them both a shot of tequila. “So there’s your answer then.” They clinked glasses and downed the fiery spirit.
A few minutes of contemplation passed. There was no discomfort in the silence. Finally, Batgirl felt comfortable to speak again. “You know, it really was a rush to dance on the stage the other night. I mean, I didn’t plan on dancing; it just seemed the right thing to do in that situation. I was surprised at how seductive it was to perform on stage. I kind of wished I could have done more but with those rabid men, my career would have ended right there.”
“Why don’t you dance now?” Lucinda offered.
“Really? I shouldn’t.” Batgirl protested without much force.
“Why not? We’re alone. You’ll get to live your fantasy with a friendly audience of one. What music would you like me to cue up for you?”
“Whatever, Lucinda, you’re the expert, you choose.”
“No problem. Go backstage and when you hear the music start, come out. Here, first drink this.” Batgirl downed her second shot.
Batgirl stood behind the curtain with a nervousness that she had before gymnastic competitions. She was anxious to express herself but she also wanted to do well and impress Lucinda. She waited for the music. She heard Lucinda’s voice speaking into the microphone trying to sound deep. “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we are proud to have as a special guest, Babs the Batgirl.”
The Caped Crusader hesitated for a moment and then remembered the night before that was the name she told Lucinda to call her in a sarcastically deflective way. She came out to a thumping beat and a rhythm designed to excite. Batgirl smiled broadly and heard Lucinda scream out a loud and enthusiastic, “Woooooo.” The music was perfect Batgirl quickly found the moves she wanted and coordinated them to the sound. Like her first time she really wanted to use the pole but decided to wait until after she had shed a few articles. Tonight, confident in her surroundings, she released the lock on her utility belt. She spun it around her head a few times but with its weight she still had enough sense not to throw it. Next, she took off her gloves, one at a time, exposing each finger as if it was its own striptease.
The music continued to keep her dancing and wanting to do more. Lucinda heartily encouraged her and started throwing bills on stage. Thrusting her hips toward the audience of one Batgirl realized the tequila had kicked in. She couldn’t think clearly to take off her cape or top next. She decided on the top but the cape was in the way to reach the back zipper. So, a bit awkwardly she released the cape to the floor and slid the zipper down from her neck to waist. She began to remove the top pulling one sleeve forward and then the other. Batgirl was now a cowled crime fighter prancing around the stage in just her boots, pants, and bra. Now was her time to play on the pole. First, she started humping it with long, slow upward slides on the gold surface. She jumped up and hung upside down. Her grip was strong and she defied gravity by climbing up a bit more in the inverted position while also managing to shake the top half of her body to the beat of the song. Although she felt she could continue to hang on the pole in that position longer, she could feel her breasts slipping out from the cover of her bra. Executing a half flip off the pole (and impressing Lucinda with her athleticism) she landed on her feet and as subtlety as her drunkenness would allow, and pushed her nipples back under the bra. Smiling again at Lucinda she bent down and picked up her cape, holding it in front of her torso with one hand. With the other hand, she reached behind her back and unclasped the bra. Still shielding the view of her tits with the cape, she turned her back to the audience to reveal that she was indeed topless. She danced behind the cape and tried her best to make it look sexy. Slowly she lowered the cape to uncover the tops of her shoulders, the music persuaded her to let the cape fall lower to the point of baring her cleavage but just barely covering her nipples. Lucinda was cheering mightily now and Batgirl moved closer to swing her cape just in front of her private audience for the grand finale. Lucinda screamed “Show it, Batgirl, show your stuff!”
Batgirl rotated her hips a few more times when Lucinda grabbed the bottom of the cape and pulled down. She wanted to see Batgirl’s orbs in their full glory. She thought her tug would be the push Batgirl needed to flaunt her stuff and be the release she needed. Instinctively, Batgirl reacted by holding the cape tighter. However, in her alcohol compromised state, Lucinda did not succeed in pulling off her cape but rather pulled Batgirl off stage crashing on top of her.
Both ladies lay on the floor in hysterical delight; Batgirl’s now exposed breasts vigorously juggled with each convulsion of laughter and Lucinda still was clutching the cape. They turned toward each other and froze for a moment; each liked the look the other was giving them. Batgirl leaned in so their faces were close enough to feel each other’s breath. Batgirl was thinking If she doesn’t make a move I will when Lucinda proclaimed, “You know what’s even better than dancing on stage?”
Batgirl shook her head.
"Lap dancing, and you know what, Babs?”
Batgirl shook her head again.
“I am the best. Guys are easy but my best night is actually on Sundays, Ladies’ Night, when guys come here with their dates. I know, can you believe it, here on a date? They pay me big bucks to see me get their girlfriends off. Would you like to see a sample of what I can do?”
“Oh really? Well, I’m no loser’s date.”
“Doesn’t matter, I’m still numero uno.”
“Are you trying to say you can get me, Batgirl – foe of arch criminals, defender of freedom - off?”
“If you don’t have two orgasms,” Lucinda boasted, “I’ll give you your money back.”
“It’s a deal.” Batgirl stood up shakily, grabbed her bra off the stage, and plopped into a chair. “Okay, bitch, show me what you’ve got.”
“Give me five minutes then cue up the music again and sit your ass back down in that chair.”
Batgirl waited for what she thought might be four minutes and walked over to the DJ station. The tequila bottle was there and she indulged in another swig. It dawned on her that she was still holding her bra in her hand. Even though most of her movements were now clumsy, years of repetition allowed her to put her bra back on without issue. Waiting another 10 seconds, she hit the play button. The beat kicked in and she ran to her chair anxious to see how would Lucinda seduce her audience, her!
Patiently waiting, a white fog crept out of the entrance door as an introduction. Out of the vapor Lucinda materialized in a new outfit that must have been chosen specifically to entice Batgirl. Lucinda was dressed as Wonder Woman. Batgirl laughed at the surprise but was quite thrilled with what she saw. Lucinda filled out the bustier quite amply and she had the taste to actually use a good replica outfit complete with bracelets, a tiara, and a golden lasso.
Lucinda crossed the stage and approached Batgirl with a determined gait combining the perfect blend of purpose and sashaying. Batgirl felt excitement welling and Lucinda hadn’t even started dancing yet.
When she was backstage, Lucinda was energized on so many levels. She was having a girl’s night with one of the ultimate females to be friends with. She was cheerfully surprised Batgirl was not judgmental about what she did for a living. So many people kept asking why she danced when she was smart enough to do other things but not Batgirl. Finally, even though she was not a great dancer Batgirl had one of the best bodies she had ever seen and it made for a fantastic show. Lucinda knew that in the club guys always raved about her own tits, but Batgirl’s were to die for: perfect size, firm, and fun. It raised the stakes but Lucinda had a competitive streak and she wanted to show the Caped Damsel that she was in fact really good at what she does.
Standing at the edge of the stage she looked down at Batgirl looking up and smiling with childlike enthusiasm. Lucinda could tell her choice of costume really hit the mark with her masked spectator. Normally, in the Amazon boots she would be careful to walk to the floor by the steps but since it was Batgirl and she was clad as Wonder Woman she jumped landing two feet in front of the unflinching Crusader. Turning her toes slightly out and arching her back, Lucinda began drawing a circle with her hips bringing her delights closer to her anxious observer but pulling them back, too. She continued this motion even as she bent her knees and grinded down. Never staying at one level too long she continued these erotic moves back up again.
Seeing a transfixed look, Lucinda ever so gradually started to turn while keeping her eyes focused directly at Batgirl’s. She only broke the visual lock when her butt was now squarely in front of Batgirl’s face. She widened her circles a bit for greater teasing effect when she felt the Mistress of the Night place her hands half on the blue satin briefs and half on the skin of her ass. Lucinda slowly and gently removed Batgirl’s hands and admonished her with a cute shake of her finger. She knew part of the enticement was controlling what the viewer could or could not touch.
Batgirl gave a sweet look of pleading but brought her hands back to her side. Lucinda turned her back to Batgirl again but this time straightened her legs and bent slightly forward before looking back to see how her special client responded. She then stroked her hand over the blue satin, outlining a few of the stars with her finger, before lightly spanking her own bottom. Seeing Batgirl smile she noticed how perfect and white her teeth were. She coquettishly smiled back. Keeping her legs straight she bent down all the way to her ankles firmly putting her rump in Batgirl’s face. Lucinda was going to work her way back up with increasing seductive swaying and gesturing when she felt a sharp slap on her tush. Again, gazing into Batgirl’s eyes, she turned around and struck both index fingers together in a “naughty, naughty” scolding. Unclasping the golden lasso from her belt, she wrapped it around Batgirl’s arms near the elbows careful to not bind the Caped Crusader’s chest. “Now with this magic rope you must obey me,” Lucinda commanded huskily.
“Oh, I will,” was the animated reply.
Wonder Woman then spread Batgirl’s knees in her chair and stood as the base to the triangle that was formed. She turned her back to her prey and bent her knees, keeping her back straight and began to lower herself this time placing her hands on Batgirl’s thighs for support but rubbing her derriere into Batgirl’s crotch. She looked back and saw that Batgirl liked it plenty and pulled a bit on the ropes. Even though she knew that the Superheroine could break the restraint with ease she nevertheless appeared to go along with its purpose. Batgirl did coo, “Nice.”
Rubbing her ass into a woman’s crotch was a different sensation than the usual hard-on encountered with men. Finding the right spot was more difficult and delicate. However, Batgirl, like other women before her, made it easier by voluntarily pushing their hips out to absorb the whetting better.
Normally, the Butt Grind was good for one of her client’s first orgasms but Lucinda decided to make this a further tease for later. So she made one more deliberate gyration and slid her butt up from Batgirl’s crotch to her abdomen. There she turned around and paused to look intensely into Batgirl’s eyes. They were a bit glassy but also completely captivated. Knees locked, she leaned forward and dramatically placed each hand on either side of the chair out of Batgirl’s view. The dancing Wonder Woman then pressed her breasts toward Batgirl’s face until the mask of her cowl was nestled in her cleavage. Gently she shook her torso and Batgirl’s head moved in sync with each direction. Batgirl was burrowed in as Lucinda could feel tiny kisses on her sternum.
Lucinda found the sensation of the smooth cowl against each boob quite nice and began to realize that she may be enjoying this as much as her new friend. She decided to up the ante. She pulled slightly back and tugged Batgirl’s bra straps off her shoulders so the rested down by her upper arms. The Crimefighter’s own formidable cleavage kept the cups of her bra filled but Wonder Woman went to work to free the Bat-boobies again. She placed her thumbs inside the red with gold trim top just above the support wires and flipped the bustier over to reveal her mammeries and swung them faintly back and forth until they rested on top of Batgirl’s tits. She then started bouncing them up and down against them, with each collision causing Batgirl’s bra to inch down further and further. Once the pink Bat nipples were exposed, the Wonder tits pressed into them - nipples connecting with nipples - and Lucinda rotated in both directions causing each woman to moan in harmony.
Wanting to give her more Lucinda held her left breast in her hand and positioned her brown nipple at Batgirl’s lips. Batgirl received it without hesitation first giving it a combination kiss and suck and eventually securing it with her teeth and tugging it. Although she did not consider herself into women, Lucinda was beginning to understand how it was an alluring concept. She allowed Batgirl a lot of play and then took the breast in her hand again and dragged the engorged nipple across Batgirl’s chin, all along the bottom of her mask where it met her cheeks, and into the eye holes probing territory exclusive to the masked Damsel.
After hundreds, may a thousand lap dances, receiving as much pleasure as giving it was a new experience for Lucinda. It was an arrangement she made with herself years ago when she first started. She would offer patrons her body but never what was inside it. Even though she stared into each client’s eyes to tell them they were the only one, in reality she would be working out a shopping list, thinking about her sister, or recalling some event of the day. Now she felt Batgirl was beginning to control her. She noticed the damp sensation in her blue satin bottoms and realized it was because she was waxing her twat on Batgirl’s thigh.
She decided it was time to bring them both home. Wonder Woman slid all the way up Batgirl’s thigh until their crotches were seamed together. She began a few gyrations which Batgirl had spontaneously initiated, too. Although the tease brought on a pleasing feeling, both were greedy for an explosion and started to thrust their hips furiously crashing their love boxes and angling for a collision of clitorises. Moans were now screams. Lucinda caught their reflection in one of the ubiquitous mirrored walls and pointed for Batgirl to see how it looked when two Superheroines were in the throes of passion. Their eyes went back to each other and they bucked and slammed, soaking through their costumes and leaving love juice on each others’ nether regions. Batgirl yelped first, caving to her orgasm. “Oh my God, oh my God,” she cried as she destroyed the bind of the golden lasso to raise her arms and guide Wonder Woman’s body against hers. Lucinda quickly followed shrieking and shaking her head violently. As they collapsed to the floor together their orgasms continued in waves.
The silence – no music, no heavy breathing – finally brought Batgirl to some relative sense of cognition. She was drained and still very drunk. She had enough awareness to know they needed to leave before any early morning cleanup crew or Glick discovered them. She looked over at Lucinda and thought I can’t believe I was just fucked by Wonder Woman. She roused her new friend and lumbering they cleaned up any evidence of their private party. Batgirl put on her tunic, gloves, cape, and utility belt and Lucinda returned from the dressing room in her casual wear. As much as she missed seeing her as Wonder Woman (and she vowed to make sure she saw her again that way) she knew it would not be prudent to be dressed that way on Gotham City’s streets.
Woozy, Batgirl wanted to get home but did not want Lucinda to travel home at a dangerous hour alone. “Where do you live, Lucinda?”
“Unfortunately, a bit out of the way in Brookline, it was impossible to find anything affordable here in Gotham City.”
“Well I know a safe house close by that we can use.” Batgirl figured they could use one of the apartments in her building, not Barbara Gordon’s, but one of the many she kept furnished but empty for her privacy. They were not on Batman’s approved list but neither was her private life either.
Out in the alley Batgirl debated whether to hop on her bike or walk the five minutes to her building. A short walk like that was exponentially longer when smashed. “Lucinda, I think I am too drunk to ride us safely.”
“No problem,” she replied, “where I come from in the middle of nowhere, we learned to drive as teenagers while drunk. In fact, we probably drove more times drunk than sober. Let me take her.”
Batgirl protested mildly but minutes later she was a passenger on her own bike with her hands around Lucinda’s waist. She caught herself from directing her to the secret entrance and instead had her park the bike at the building next door. Fortunately, the streets were empty and they were able to enter the building without notice. Unfortunately, Barbara Gordon still had not repaired the building’s elevator so they were forced to hike it up two floors. Batgirl remembered she did not have a key to the apartment in her utility belt and realized it would be suspicious to go to Barbara’s apartment to retrieve one. With a great stroke of luck Lucinda just turned the knob and the door opened. So much for security.
Lucinda walked around inspecting everything and commenting that this was much nicer than the dump where she lived. Batgirl hadn’t been in here in a while either and looked around to make sure there were no identifying pictures or magazines. It was a simple studio apartment but everything worked and it was furnished adequately although not too stylishly. Satisfied, Batgirl excused herself to go to the bathroom.
I can’t believe this night, Lucinda thought over and over again. I am in one of Batman and Batgirl’s ‘safe houses’. This is so radical but who can I tell? What could I tell them? Yeah, I’m not a lesbian but I’m fucking around with Batgirl, yeah that Batgirl. She sat down in the small couch and returned to assessing the digs. There was only one bed. Would they share it? Either way, Lucinda convinced herself it would be cool. Suddenly, she heard a noise in the bathroom. It sounded like Batgirl was coughing and then there was a heavy thud. She sprang up and ran to the bathroom door. She called into it, “Batgirl, are you okay?” There was no reply. “Batgirl?”
She turned the doorknob and opened the door. She expected to apologize for bursting in but instead she discovered Batgirl passed out on the floor with puke all over the front of her outfit. She enjoyed a small laugh because she thought it was cute but then set about to make her friend comfortable. First, she scanned the medicine cabinet and found a toothbrush and toothpaste. She managed, with difficulty, to graze each of the Crimefighter’s teeth and her tongue. Then she began the laborious process of dragging her from the bathroom to the bed. Even though Batgirl had already removed her cape and utility belt she was still a solid package to try and move.
Succeeding in placing the top half of her body, face-up, on the bed, Lucinda undid her boots and shimmied each one off. She paused to check out Batgirl’s feet. She knew that some people found feet very sexy and even though she did not consider them one way or the other, she did admit that if she did, these were nicely formed appendages.
Thankfully, she paid attention when Batgirl stripped her top back at the club or she never would have suspected the zipper in the back of her tunic. It appeared seamless. She slowly pushed the zipper down to her waist and started to pull the top off her front. Clearing the torso, she had to then take off the gloves before she could remove the top completely. It reeked of puke and she threw it into the bathtub and turned the water on over it.
Returning to the scene of the stumbled Damsel, she grabbed the waistband of her leggings and began to pull down. They were tight. How does she get these things on? She decided to clear her butt first which should then make the rest easier. As the material evaporated from her waist and abdomen Lucinda saw Batgirl’s pussy emerge. Neatly trimmed but not hairless it complemented her perfect body. When the pants finally cleared the feet she noticed a thong inside the leggings. She had accidentally removed her Batgirl’s panties as well. They were tight what was to be expected?
At that point Lucinda also noticed the darkness of Batgirl’s pubic hair. It was dark brown almost black – a far mismatch from the spectacular red hair under the mask. Should she take off the mask? She wanted to; she wanted to see the beautiful person she thought Batgirl was. Would Batgirl be upset? After all, they were quite intimate tonight and if pressed she could deny doing it. Still, Batgirl needed to know that she can trust her. But…this was a once in a lifetime chance. Lucinda felt so conflicted. Until she didn’t.
She reached out and placed her thumbs under the mask, just below Batgirl’s ears and pulled up. Her excitement was dampened by the feeling of resistance. The mask wouldn’t come off. Then Lucinda noticed the chin strap keeping it secured. Gently stroking the crimefighter’s face, her hand waded over to the side where she was able to unclasp the barrier. Now with both hands she again placed her fingers on the side of the cowl. On three, one, two…and, without waiting for three, she smoothly raised the mask in a slow reveal. Her thumbs had incidentally caught enough of the red hair to include the wig exposing the peaceful but slumbering face of the famous Gotham City vigilante. Lucinda was breathless. The woman lying beneath her was as beautiful as she imagined, maybe more. She also had an innate elegance that Lucinda could never pretend to have. For minutes, she just stared with a combination of pee-in-the-pants excitement and awe. Lucinda didn’t recognize her, but the flawlessness and perfectly manicured nails told her, this woman was rich. Lucinda mentally noted, going forward, to check the society pages of the newspapers Glick had in the office of the Club to see if the vision of this face would ever grace them.
The dormant woman slightly stirred and Lucinda decided to reapply Batgirl’s disguise in case she suddenly came to. She wanted to see Batgirl again and be friends, but she couldn’t do that being caught holding her cowl. Lucinda moved to put on the wig but abruptly stopped and quickly ran to her purse digging in for her phone. One picture – just for herself – couldn’t hurt. She framed the shot centering it on the face down to the top pleat of Barbara’s cleavage. With her digital keepsake secured, Lucinda reapplied the wig. She considered another picture with the red hair but she determined it would be prudent if nothing could identify this woman as Batgirl.
Before placing the cowl back on Batgirl, Lucinda couldn’t resist introducing it to her own head. How many people can say they have shared the view from inside the mask of Batgirl? She found a mirror and screamed like a teenage fangirl when she saw herself. She swayer her hips from left to right and, imitating her friend, she made two fists and dug them into her hips just as Batgirl would strike her famous pose. She then ran back to the sleeping crimefighter and grabbed the wig, sprinted to the bathroom and grabbed the cape, then returned to the mirror to repeat her pose with more ornamentation. Lucinda laughed joyously. God, I wish I could wear this all night. Regrettably and astutely, she knew she couldn’t so she watched herself in the mirror remove the mask and wig. Wow, even taking it off feels cool. She returned to the bed where Batgirl lay. After carefully adorning the Caped Crusader and securing the chin strap, she kissed Batgirl on the lips, slightly parted Barbara’s bra from her breast and kissed it with a slight tug at her nipple, and finally kissed her again at the point where her dark landing strip ended and the crease of her vagina began. “Goodnight, Batgirl. Thanks for sharing your biggest secret with me.” Lucinda then stripped off her own clothes, moved Batgirl into a sleeping position and climbed in next to her, spooning the Superhero’s body. Lucinda slept with a smile.
Wednesday
Rarely is waking up after a night of heavy drinking a welcoming affair. In addition to the known pain is the fear of the damage inflicted without memory. Batgirl opened her eyes and immediately braced herself for the harsh torment of the tequila shots she consumed. She closed her eyes again in a pathetic attempt to ward off any of the expected throbbing. To her surprise, it worked. The she opened her eyes again and still the pain was nowhere to be found. She took a deep breath just to make sure. Yep, all clear. She then began the recital of the previous night’s events. Lucinda’s club, check; dancing, check; shots, check, receiving an amazing lap dance, check, riding drunk on her bike to her apartment building, check again; naked, except for her cowl and bra, in bed, can’t check that but somehow she wasn’t too worried about it either. In fact, Batgirl had almost complete recall of the previous night’s affairs and her first reaction was a satisfied smile indicating zero regrets.
After the review of her activities, her senses kicked in and she smelled the delightful enjoinder of freshly made coffee. Lucinda must have risen first. Batgirl wasn’t sure what food was actually in the apartment but she was thankful for her friend’s initiative and resourcefulness. She pulled herself out of bed wrapping the sheet around her body. There was a trace of surprise in Batgirl’s face when she walked into the alcove that served as a kitchen and saw Lucinda completely naked in front of her. She looked a little worse for wear but if that was her worst appearance this girl had a lot going for her. If anything, the bright daylight made her look younger and it gave Batgirl a view of the dancer’s tone and sculpture that she had not noticed in the club. Her skin had a rich complexion and was flawless. Her tits were large and had many good years ahead of her before gravity would become her mortal enemy. No tattoos either which was unusual for most girls at the club. Of course, all her pubic hair was shaven off. Batgirl wasn’t sure whether she should kiss her friend or not and, if she kissed her, should she do it on the cheek or lips. She settled for, “Good morning, Sweetie.”
“Oh good morning, Babs,” Lucinda replied as she took a sip from the Swedish mug. The familiarity of hearing that name for her still shocked Batgirl but she absorbed it calmly. Lucinda liked having a name for her friend that nobody else used. “I made you some coffee. Are you ready for it yet?”
“Coffee would be great, thanks.” She welcomed the hot porcelain beaker and took a sip and she thought what to say next. Conversation would be more tricky than awkward but she felt it was her responsibility to take the lead. “I had fun last night,” she copped.
“Me, too, I haven’t drunk like that in a while.” Lucinda seemed more comfortable than her but she knew a sense of ease would come.
“Tell me about it,” she sarcastically intoned taking another sip, “crime-fighting doesn’t have many off nights like that. Um, thanks for putting me to bed. I guess you could say I ran into a bit of trouble in the bathroom.”
Lucinda was relieved. She didn’t know how Batgirl felt about her decision to undress her. Just for confirmation she explained, “I left your dirty costume in the tub. I didn’t know where or how to wash it. And,” Lucinda silently instructed her face to maintain its composure so she wouldn’t give herself away, “I wasn’t sure about how you would feel about your mask so I left it on you. I hope you don’t mind.”
Batgirl felt a breeze of relief. “No, not at all, Lucinda. The mask - God, part of me wants to take it off right now and show you who I am and that I trust you – it’s just that being friends with me can be dangerous and too much knowledge about who I am well, that could make you a target. And if something happened to you, that’s something I could never forgive myself for. I want to be friends with you, but we have to be careful. For now, our friendship should be our secret.”
“I understand.” Lucinda wasn’t sure if she was being blown off. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to satisfy her curiosity last night after all.
For assurance, Batgirl moved closer and held her hand. “Really, even though I have only known you for a few nights there is something good and decent that I want to know better and, as we figure out what is safe, there are things I want you to know and will let you know about me, too.”
“For real?”
“Of course, for real,” Batgirl said with a slight squeeze to her hand. To move the conversation in a different direction Batgirl asked, “How old are you anyway?”
Lucinda hesitated for a second as she tried to process her rising guilt, “20.”
“Uggh, I was hoping for 21.”
“Is that a problem? I’ll be 21 in a couple of weeks.”
“I guess the problem is I allowed a minor to consume alcohol. It’s not the best thing a deputy of the Gotham City Police could do.”
“Well, geez, the state where I am from the drinking age is enforced like, never.”
“Yes,” Batgirl began taking a practical tone, “but it doesn’t mean it’s not against the law.”
“Batgirl, I swear to you that one of the people who used to buy us beer in high school was a cop. Of course, he was trying to get in me and my friends’ pants but in bars, too, we were never carded, even in the bar owned by our next door neighbor and he had a daughter in my class.”
“I guess you’ve experienced a bit more than most with your years, I suppose,” Batgirl concluded.
After a few more threads of chat, they began to think about the logistics of starting their days and tending to their commitments. Batgirl offered Lucinda the use of her shower but her friend decided that showering and then putting on dirty clothes was somehow grosser than suiting up and sprinting home. Lucinda re-attired herself quickly as speedy costume changes were second nature.
She kissed Batgirl on the cheek, a bit deliberately. Batgirl kissed back but was only puckering the air next to her. After the door closed Batgirl thought about the lap dance and her orgasm. Did she misread last night? Did she and Lucinda share something intimate or was she just working hard to win the bet?
Since Guzman’s disappearance and Monday night’s attack the DA decided to use a different holding location each night to throw off any scent the mob may have had for Soprano. The Commissioner informed Batgirl that he would not be available but that she should stop by the DA’s office to receive the location for tonight’s protection assignment. Batgirl was actually glad to hear that because she wanted to derive a better sense if she and her father could trust the DA or not.
Like her father’s workplace, the DA’s office had the space and stately furnishings that conveyed the power and prestige of the position. As the Commissioner’s guest she had been to it several times before her crime fighting career began to welcome new men elected to lead the prosecutorial teams that finished the police department’s work. As such, she was not awed by the surroundings. The DA was an abrupt man without much capacity for social pleasantries. He told her the name and room number of the hotel and stood there annoyed that she wasn’t moving on.
Batgirl needed this private court session. “Do you think it’s odd that the attackers on Monday knew where we would be? After all, as I understood it, you, the Commissioner, and I were the only ones who knew where Soprano was being held that night.”
“Why yes, Batgirl, I do think it is curious. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I know I am not the leak. The Commissioner is not either…”
“Just what are you implying, young lady?” The resonance in the DA’s voice became more severe.
“I am just wondering if it wasn’t me, and it wasn’t the Commissioner…”
“How dare you? How do I know it wasn’t you? You weren’t killed were you? How do you know it wasn’t the Commissioner? What gives you the inside track on his thinking?”
“I just know he has committed his life to bringing down the mob. Why would he blow the case by knocking off his key witness?”
“You miserable bitch, what do I have to gain by letting this case slip away? You think the Commissioner is all innocent? Ask him about the dirty cops he has covered for over the years. Ask him why he shut the feds out of this trial and protection detail? Ask him why he thinks the attack didn’t happen when one of his men in blue could get hurt? Get out of my office and do your job, Batgirl. This conversation is over.”
Batgirl spun her wheels across town en route to the new hotel that the DA informed her about. She was over almost two hours early but wanted time to think. She had an unsettled feeling; she was upset the DA totally controlled her confrontation. She also had not even dreamed that someone would not consider her father above reproach. Her pre-occupation dimmed her alertness as her bike pulled into the parking garage near the hotel. She deliberately parked her motorcycle two floors down to make it more difficult for anyone to know she was in the neighborhood. While the depth provided more privacy it also left her fewer options if trouble arose.
The Girl Wonder was attuned to possible gangsters out to get Joey but her inner dialog distracted her from realizing that she almost ran two men over as she swung into the garage entrance. Normal citizens of Gotham City would gladly excuse a rare oversight by a celebrated member of the Trio of Trustworthiness but when the two near-victims are criminal associates of one of Gotham’s notorious arch villains, the Penguin, they were compelled to seek some degree of payback.
Shark and Swordfish were on their way to pick up Octopus when the Batcycle cut in front of them and interrupted their stride. “Did you see that?” Shark asked.
“It was perilously close,” Swordfish replied.
“Did you see who was riding that bike?” Shark continued.
“I did. It was that masked meddler, Batgirl.”
“Do you think see did it on purpose to intimidate us,” Shark probed his friend further.
“I do and I think we should teach that Bungling Buttinski a lesson.” Swordfish was feeling righteous and brave.
“Maybe we should get Octopus first,” Shark suggested, “he always knows what to do.”
“No, we must act now before she gets away. Our honor is at stake, my friend. Let’s go.” He started running down the garage ramp. Shark followed but at a more cautious pace.
At the first lower level he caught up with his mutually wronged partner and they exchanged a plan as they lumbered down one more flight.
They arrived and saw Batgirl alone, locking her ninja. Together, they walked towards her as menacing as they could imagine. Batgirl looked up, returned to locking her motorcycle, and looked up again when they reached her.
“Mr. Shark and Mr. Swordfish, Arkham must be filled to capacity again if you two are out and about. I trust it won’t take you long to find your way back.”
“Very funny, Batgirl, but we’re not laughing,” Swordfish said aggressively. He turned to his friend to continue the verbal barrage.
“Yeah,” was the total of Shark’s output.
Swordfish paused, waiting for more support, when he realized to his disgust how stupid his friend was. He continued, “We don’t like the way you disrespected us,” and pushed Batgirl in the shoulder. The Caped Crimefighter barely flinched.
“Listen, gentlemen, I don’t know what you are talking about but I have somewhere I need to be.” Batgirl took a step to the side to split the two challenged contributors to society. She would have kept walking but she felt tension on her scalp which could have only meant that one of them had grabbed her by the wig. She stopped immediately and spun around. I will finish these bozos off in 30 seconds, she thought.
“Which one of you grabbed my hair?” she demanded.
“Pish, posh for a few locks, what difference does it make, Batgirl?” Swordfish was reveling in his boldness.
“Because it will help me determine which one I knockout first and which one I pummel longer and harder.” She liked the sternness of her threat.
“Oh,” Swordfish said matter-of-factly, “it was him,” pointing to Shark.
Shark could not contain his surprise at being turned on by his friend but channeled his reaction by lunging at Batgirl with an over-head right. She stepped to the side causing him to miss awkwardly which she used to kick his butt to the ground. Swordfish wasted no time switching to attack mode and caught Batgirl across the chin sending her wobbling back. He continued with his charge landing a good hook to her ribs which more served to knock the wind out of her rather than break bones. This shifted her sideways and she instinctively put up her fists to protect her face, anticipating the next shot. However, Swordfish was slow on the follow-up so she responded with a jab that connected lightly, barely affecting him, but allowed her to gain some distance from him. Batgirl moved forward and when she was close enough executed a spinning kick that caught Swordfish on the ear. She saw him falling to the ground but as she landed Shark, from his bottom feeding position, used the handle of his umbrella to snag the ankle of Batgirl and yank her to the ground. Before she could prop herself up again Swordfish rushed her with his umbrella pointing at her and released a gas that made the Dynamic Damsel immediately disoriented and she laid her head to the ground asleep.
Batgirl was roused by the two henchmen only to find herself bound, crucifix style, to rails separating the parking levels. Her costume was thankfully intact, save her boots which were curiously removed. She noted that they neglected to remove her utility belt. That she concluded would be their undoing. “Wakey, wakey, Batgirl,” Swordfish entreated, “time for some fun.”
“The only fun you two will be having his being bunkmates back in Arkham,” She threatened firmly. The intimidation rarely worked on the arch villains but the henchmen were often more sane and more easily frightened. Unfortunately, in her compromised position her warning did not carry much weight.
“Oh, we know we will be back in Arkham someday, Batty-girl…”
“Yeah, we’re gonna be back in Arkham,” Shark added with hearty enthusiasm that dismayed his companion.
“…but the day will not be today. So, let’s just enjoy today with a jolly laugh.” Swordfish then reached out to Batgirl’s armpit, exposed with her arms tied perpendicular to her torso, and flicked his fingers back and forth.
Batgirl squirmed as the underarms of her costume were not protected by the Kevlar in order for the outfit to breathe. His touch caused her body to shift in avoidance but she did not find his initial wiggling to make her laugh.
Swordfish continued to tickle the area adjusting his touch and rhythm trying to find the most effective tempo. He saw Batgirl begin to break down, coughing at first, screaming ‘stop it’, and finally caving into laughter. He continued his assault. “Come, Shark, start on her feet.”
To Batgirl’s astonishment her feet were hyper sensitive to Shark’s touch. He barely had to flicker his finger when the urge to emit a hilarious bawl overcame her. The two lackeys had done an excellent job securing her feet and legs and she was unable to avoid the effects of his touch. Any hope that the stimulation would wear off evaporated when she realized the urge to laugh was becoming greater. It took all will power just to breathe and feebly interject, “Stop, please stop.”
With Shark continuing his excellent work on her feet, Swordfish tried using one of his hands on her waist. Again, just his touch sent her into spasms of laughter. The sweet torture continued, unabated, and Batgirl was at a loss to figure out how to stop it. She could not keep focused on concrete thoughts to fight it and she sensed she was losing control of all functions in her body. Finally, in unison, they stopped. It took a moment for Batgirl to realize the tormenting had ceased but when she did she tried to speak, “Okay, you two,” she said between breaths and guffaws, “you guys got me this time. Now go away and let’s take this up another day.” She was hoping they heeded her words because all the laughing left her bladder in a frenzied state of wanting to urinate.
“We’ll go shortly you meandering meddler. First, we need to know if you can survive round two.”
“No, please, don’t,” but her pleading was ignored as Shark started to amuse her feet and Swordfish went to work under her chin and armpits. Batgirl immediately convulsed with hee’s and ha-ha’s. She was acutely aware now of the potential consequence of this persecution as a bit of pee escaped from her urethra and into her panties. She didn’t know how much more she could take but it was making her laugh like she never had before. It was a forced joy to the anguish she was experiencing. She could feel the stimulation from Shark work its way up her legs and the cruel pleasure of Swordfish sweep down her torso. Both men’s work seemed to meet at her bladder. She felt the pressure of a bursting point and she valiantly concentrated on making the sensation go away, inviting all the martial art techniques she knew for discipline. Unfortunately, they could not match what had already begun. The tickle rate increased. Her laughter was boisterous. Her bladder was in distress. Something had to give.
Swordfish noticed the tone of Batgirl’s laughter had changed. In addition to the snorting and hooting there was a whimper. He stopped and pulled away to give himself a perspective on the whole seen. As he worked his way down Batgirl’s body he saw the dark stain beginning at her crotch and increasing down her legs. Batgirl had pissed herself.
“Shark,” Swordfish called to get his attention, “it appears our good friend has completely lost control of her social skills.”
“What do you mean?” Shark inquired.
“I mean the Dark Damsel is a bit of a Wet Wanda.”
“Huh?”
“The mighty Batgirl has chosen to wet herself rather than resist us.” He was smiling triumphantly.
Batgirl was thoroughly humiliated. Her whole body slunk against the ropes and she offered no resistance. “You have won. Now, please - please - leave me alone.”
“Do you promise to respect us and rein in your rudeness to us?”
“Yes,” Batgirl answered weakly but with a bit of fluster.
“And do you promise if we should ever meet again in a situation that might appear compromising to us that you will turn the other way and let us flee?”
This time Batgirl did not answer but returned a stare that screamed, ‘Are you out of your mind?’
Swordfish put his arm around the shoulder of his companion. “Very well, our work here is done.”
When Batgirl saw the two disappear up the parking lot ramp she went to work on freeing herself. During the tickle torture she felt one of the restraints on her wrist loosening but she could never pull on it enough in her uncontrolled laughter to slip through it. Within a minute she had liberated that arm and with a knife in her utility belt she cut away the other ropes. She stepped away from the rail and felt the saturation in her crotch. Even though the warm trickle down her legs was revolting, at the moment she lost control, the discharge of pee felt oddly comforting. Its release finally gave her a relaxation that she could not experience under the duress of their nerve ending stimulation. She tried walking a bit but even bow-legged it was unwieldy. She looked at her watch. She had under an hour to return to her apartment and change. Given the traffic and her need to be extra careful for nosy spectators around her place, her ability to arrive at the hotel room on time would be tight but she had no choice. She could not walk into a Witness Protection assignment in pants soaked in her pee. Batgirl fired up her bike and eased herself gingerly on the seat. The wetness was squishy and the warmness was changing to cool.
Batgirl re-arrived at the Witness Protection site refreshed. She not only changed her pants and panties but even took a quick shower as well. She was ready to fulfill her deputized duties as well as have a serious talk with Joey and keep him at bay.
While in the presence of the other officer their conversation was sparse. If it stayed that way it would make the whole night easier. Unfortunately, as soon as he left Joey turned on the charm and began asking her questions that were on the surface harmless but each one slightly chipped away at her defensive armor.
Each of his queries, ask with sincerity, was answered by her with increasingly longer and more involved responses. She found herself unable to walk away. Even in her other, identified life as a Gotham socialite she struggled to cut off conversations with people who bored her or wanted something from one of her foundations but when the person controlling the dialog was someone who intrigued her and ferally excited her, it was impossible. As long as he steered the conversation away from their previous night together, she would be okay.
He didn’t. Whether he couldn’t or wouldn’t was irrelevant because the topic of them, together, was raised and now she had to deal with it. She recited her prepared remarks about the inappropriateness of their mutual exploration of each other. She was willing to accept the blame, apologized if she created any false aspirations, and, of course, it could never happen again.
Joey sort of agreed but then elaborated that he agreed on form but not on principle. “The problem as I see it, Batgirl, is we went about our attraction to each other all wrong.” Before she could object to the concept of a mutual attraction he continued, “You made it easy for me to push a sexual agenda forward when, in reality, I like you. I like you more than any of the girls I have ever known.” Again, Batgirl was going to interject when he persisted, “Yesterday, after not seeing you, I thought about us a lot and realized that a woman like you is complex and needs to be discovered as well as appreciated. What I forced on Monday was wrong. What I should have done is just kissed you. In fact, we shared an intimate act and never kissed. Isn’t that wrong? I think so. I’d like to rectify that. Can we kiss now? Nothing more, just kiss.”
Batgirl finally saw this was her moment to take a stand and deploy the advice she had been given. “I don’t know, Joey,” she said with her backbone evaporating, “What you say makes sense but we come from different worlds. Even if some things, relationships, could be meant to be, it doesn’t me they will.”
“Everyone is from a different world, a different life, Batgirl. All I’m saying is even if there are more reasons to submit to barriers than to break them down it doesn’t mean that we should give up so easy, especially if something is there. Each of us is in this hotel room because we refused at some point to paddle softly against the stream.
Let’s just kiss. Maybe it will be closure to the other night. Either way we will learn more about each other and how we feel from a kiss, not a blow job.”
Batgirl cringed at his crudeness but she understood his point. “Okay, just one kiss.”
“It’s all I’m asking for,” said Joey as he moved his face closer to hers. They each tilted their heads slightly to accommodate the other. Just before their lips met there was a slight pause, not hesitation, just a moment to acknowledge the expectation. The first kiss was short but really just a set up for a longer, second kiss that allowed the fleshy stimulation of their lips to bond and devour. Their hands found their ways to each others’ bodies, his on her cheeks and hers, one his back and the other pressing against his muscular chest. She eventually took her hand off his chest and guided one of his to her breast. They continued kissing. His other hand has migrated to her lat back muscle, close to her other breast but honoring the need to be invited. They continued kissing with the contented gusto of young teenagers discovering making out for the first time.
Both of Joey’s hands were now on both of her breasts caressing the best he can over a protective suit. He somewhat suddenly removed his hands and Batgirl thought he was going to take off her top or maybe even ask to take off her pants. Instead he reached for the front of her cowl below her eyes and slowly tried to raise her mask.
“I’m sorry, darling, but that is still off limits,” Batgirl reminded him.
“It’s just that I think I am falling hard for the woman behind the mask. In less than a week, you know me better than any girl I have been with, any of my friends, or hell, even my family. I’m going away forever, FOREVER. This might sound corny but I will be waiting for you, wherever I am. I have to know who I’ll be waiting for.”
This was the heaviness she was hoping to avoid. “Joey, I’d be lying if I said I don’t have feelings for you to. Real feelings. I just don’t know. Let me go to the bathroom a few minutes and think about it and maybe return as the woman behind the mask.”
In the bathroom Batgirl paced back and forth over his words and her feelings. She thought about a day when she could tell a lover about her life. Could she trust him? He was sincere and it was true, he was going away forever. But, and a big but, they are also together, in this situation, because he betrayed his own family – sold them out to the authorities. He might be able to be trusted now but could that trust last?
Batgirl returned from the bathroom, apologized for briefly disappearing, and explained that despite her affection, she could not reveal her identity to him, not yet. She knew that given their circumstance that it meant never but that would have to be their curse. She would always remember him and maybe someday after her career as a crime fighter was over, she just might show up on his front porch, but tonight it could not happen.
Joey did not offer a resistance to her decision. He sulked but did not resort to surliness. A silence engulfed the room until Batgirl was relieved of her duty in the morning.
Thursday
Batgirl sat in the Commissioner’s office, intently listening to him provide a very sobering debriefing of the day’s events in the courtroom. While secretly wanting to attend the trial, she knew that as Batgirl she would be a distraction that could hurt the prosecution and, as Barbara Gordon, she had no reason to be there. The Commissioner detailed how the Defense Attorney ripped into Joey’s testimony and credibility by challenging his motives and accusing him of seeking some pathological retribution against his well-intentioned father. The Defense also succeeded in having some key evidence excluded. The worst as the Commissioner outlined was Joey’s demeanor. While in previous days he was engaged and sincere, today he was shiftless, quiet, and offering answers that did not follow the DA’s guidelines. Gordon summed it up, “Today could not have been more of a disaster.”
“Commissioner, I am sorry to hear this. Is there anything I can do?”
“Well, Batgirl, as you know tomorrow is his last day of testimony and then he will immediately be transferred over to the the Witness Protection program. We need to have Junior Soprano on his ‘A’ game or the case is lost, his father gets off, and he is gone forever.
I don’t know, talk to him, and see if there is anything he will say to you that he won’t admit to the DA or me. I know he’s a bit of a ladies’ man maybe play up to that – without, of course, compromising your integrity – and see if your feminine prowess can put him in the right frame of mind.”
Batgirl was sure her father wasn’t asking her to prostitute herself but in his desperation to win this case – and she knew it had huge implications both politically and to the morale of his force – it sounded like he was suggesting to her to push the normal limits. “Commissioner, I will do my best to make sure he is prepped and ready to testify as we need him.”
The Commissioner thanked Batgirl and they went over the details for the final night of witness protection. She will have the night shift and the Commissioner would relieve her and collect Soprano in the morning and escort him personally to the Courthouse. He was keen to leave an impression on the jurors how serious this case is and he was hoping his presence would solidify that point.
“What happened today?” Batgirl asked Joey. She needed to be direct with him. When she arrived there was an awkward moment when he shot from the sofa to the doorway to greet her. It alarmed the Detective watching him and if Batgirl did not hold him off with a “Back off, Soprano,” comment and gesture she was sure he would have kissed her. She gave Detective Harrelson a queer “I don’t know” look which diffused any major complications and the officer seemed to agree. Besides, as a cop away from home a lot he was anxious to catch his son’s football game. When Harrelson left, Batgirl wanted to run into Joey’s arms. She thought all day about how she was going to miss him and she was succumbing to the insane notion of carrying a mad crush from youth into adulthood. Their first embrace would have to wait. She knew she had to address business first to help her father. When he didn’t answer her question she repeated the interrogation.
“To be honest, I was depressed today,” his voice was sincere. “You know I am just getting to know you – I want to know you more – and then tomorrow, bam, you are out of my life forever. I couldn’t concentrate all day.”
Batgirl went over the importance of him keeping himself together and admitted she would miss him as well. It released a broad smile from Joey. There was a knock on the door, as Harrelson returned with take-out food for their dinner.
After the requisite thank you, Harrelson left for good. Batgirl reached in the bag and took out each item one by one inspecting what the Detective had chosen and laying it out on the small table. He thoughtfully had chosen Italian food from a reputable restaurant. The two chairs were placed side by side and Batgirl liked the idea of sitting next to him and enjoying the last meal as a couple but finally opted to move the chair so as to sit across from him, a better position to cross examine the witness.
Batgirl ate lightly as was her custom in the evening and pushed her food aside and began asking him questions to test his preparedness. Joey answered each question perfectly despite her persistency as an interrogator. “Mr. Soprano is it true you have been entered into the Witness Protection Program as an incentive for your testimony today?” Batgirl role played.
“I cannot answer that question, your Honor, on the account of the Defense Attorney is nowhere as hot as Batgirl here.”
“Mr. Soprano, this is a trial here, answer the question.”
“Okay, under oath if I knew before I would have to enter the Witness Protection Program and forsake any chance of seeing Batgirl again, I would have declined.”
Batgirl was moved by his affection and leaned in closer, “I need an answer, Mr. Soprano.”
Joey leaned forward to meet her face to face. He paused to speak but held his words as the two felt each others’ breath only inches apart. He made the first move tilting his face to kiss her. Batgirl did not defend her position and knowingly accepted his lips on hers. In seconds he had pulled her over the table scattering the food as the two furiously employed their lips as passionate probes over each others’ face and necks. Joey breathlessly protested, “Not fair, every time I try to kiss your neck, I keep getting a mouthful of body armor.”
“Well, Mr. Sausage, what do you propose I do about that?” Her voice left no mistake of its suggestiveness.
“I think you are in friendly territory and can dispense with all that protective mail.”
Batgirl continued to kiss him all over his face, neck, and shoulders. “Is that what the witness wants?”
“Yeah,” Joey stated, “that’s what I want.” Then he turned serious for a second, “But I have one cross examination question for you that I need for you to answer.”
Batgirl pulled slightly away to look at him directly.
“You know me, like you really know things about my core, things about who I wanted to be, not who I am now, more than anything you could have read in a file about me.” Batgirl realized that her insight really impressed him. He continued, “So my question to you, under oath, is what is your secret, how do you know me so well?”
Batgirl realized how important this was to him. She briefly looked down, took a breath and said, “I will tell you this one thing but after I tell you I will not accept any follow-up questions nor reveal more than what I have stated. Ready?” He nodded. “You might have known me in a previous life.”
The implications froze them both as they realized this information had the weight to change the tone of the evening in both directions.
Batgirl broke their mutual pondering, “Joey, excuse me a moment while I go into the bathroom for a moment.”
A flash of heartbroken protest transformed his face and he sheepishly questioned, “Do you have to…” Batgirl stopped him and put her gloved finger softly over his lips. She knew what he was thinking: if she went into the bathroom she would think about what she revealed, compose herself, and once again come out with greater resolve to end this passionate moment.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she assured him, “I’m coming back. Let me be a bit trite and say I am slipping into something more comfortable.” His face regained its seductively confident composure.
Batgirl closed the bathroom door, took a deep breath, and studied her image in the mirror. She was crossing a line. In truth she had never really thought about it before but if she had she would have avoided it. She stared hard at her reflection trying to glean some last speck hopeful insight or knowledge from her own eyes. A confused lust obscured any guidance her usually penetrating looks could offer.
She started methodically disrobing. First to come off were her gloves. She made a mental note to catalog anything she touched for wipe down to avoid any trace of her presence. Next was the cape which she neatly folded and laid on the counter. Then her crime-fighting identity was the next to be removed. She held her cowl and wig in her hand and again looked at herself in the mirror, this time with Barbara Gordon staring back at her. No thoughts were seriously processed, just next steps. She struggled to pull the Bat-tunic over her head. She knew removing the tunic meant sacrificing an important piece of armor but if she was crossing the line, well…
She had chosen, consciously or not, to wear a purple cotton camisole with a Bat emblem across the chest as an under garment this evening. It was not an official part of her Batsuit; rather it was something quite popular that she bought off the street.
Apparently, her renown had spawned a cottage industry of clothes for girls to excite their boyfriends. Tonight, it seemed appropriate – she would wear it back into the bedroom. Finally, she removed her boots and pants leaving her attired in a thin cotton top, black panties, and a utility belt. Just as her hand was about to contact the door handle, she hesitated. She turned back to the mirror. No, she wasn’t ready to go out as Barbara Gordon. Maybe she did not want to completely step over the line, after all.
Her red wig, which she felt gave her the most personality change, went back on. Reapplying the gloves was just common sense, in passion who knew where fingerprints could end up. She fiddled with her cowl in her hand then set it down on the bathroom counter. Reaching into one of her utility belt compartments she extracted her emergency mask, a prop that did not take up precious space in her belt but was essential as a temporary measure in case her cowl was ever compromised. She placed it over her eyes and adjusted the band around the back of her head to a comfortable but secure position. Her new mask covered slightly more of her face than Robin’s but it definitely exposed more of her features and made her appear and feel more open than the cowl. After one more womanly go-over in the mirror she concluded yes, this was the look she wanted for herself and to share with Joey. She exited the bathroom this time without hesitation and with the certainty that she was doing something she wanted to do.
Joey had been sitting on the bed, watching the bathroom door for ten minutes. He chewed over Batgirl’s statement and wondered what her words could have meant. Knew me in a previous life? Does Batgirl believe in reincarnation? No, she seems too grounded for that. What other lives have I had? I lived here and in Switzerland. Does she mean we went to school together in Switzerland? Think, Joey, think of all the girls you went to school with. Which one fits for Batgirl?
When the bathroom door finally opened, the scene could have been staged in a movie. The bedroom, now dark, was invaded by the escaping luminescence of the bathroom. Batgirl’s silhouette absorbed a good portion of the bathroom light but after a brief adjustment his eyes took in the vision of Batgirl approaching as on a catwalk path, each leg moving directly in front of the other. In the two or three seconds it took her to reach him he must have scanned her body up and down ten times. He first noticed the bare legs and semi-bare arms. The new mask is what registered next and he was shocked that she actually took off her cowl. Seeing her face in entirety would have been his preference but this was a step. The night was still early.
At the midway point he noticed the sexiest thing of her attire, the way the utility belt draped around her hips with a bit of bare midriff between her panties and camisole. The sight of it made his dick immediately bloom into full erection. When she stood in front of him he noticed the Bat emblem of the cotton camisole and smiled very appreciatively. The way the camisole covered her top was brilliant as well. Since last Sunday, he thought he would never see anything as sexy as when he saw Batgirl in the wet lycra outfit with no crevice in her body hidden. However, seeing the looseness of the tee shirt and how it was propped up by her pert nipples raised the bar of lasting images.
“Do you have a condom?” Batgirl asked with a breathy matter-of-factness.
“Err, no. I never use them.”
“They are for everybody’s safety, you know.”
“Yeah, well, they don’t really fit. They don’t sell them sausage shaped, if you know what I mean,” Joey said with a mixed shade of sheepishness and pride.
Batgirl reached into one of the compartments of her utility belt and produced a neatly foiled pouch. “They do exist, you just have to know where to look.”
As she tore open a top sliver of the package Joey said, “I was kind of hoping you would suck me off first.”
The woman in Batgirl realized how quickly he could slip into boorishness but her passion was forgiving. “No, I want you inside me – now!”
Joey felt a fleeting twinge of disappointment but his dick was yearning and he did not really want to argue with her wishes. He watched with fascination as Batgirl elegantly removed the rubber from the packaging and grabbed his throbbing shaft rather firmly to steady it as she placed the latex on his tip. Still clutching him she made an o-ring with her index finger and thumb to roll the sheath down over his engorged head and pleasurably accelerate as it continued to cover his manhood. The act of preparation alone was almost enough to make him come but Batgirl concluded the procedure by taking one of his nuts in her mouth and gently tugging at it. His first reaction was pain then perverse bliss and her technique did the job of keeping him erect without prematurely exploding and wasting his dream.
He stole a moment to look down his chest and admire himself– naked and fully erect – with his first ever raincoat on his curved dick. It looked pretty impressive. Then, as he was contemplating his wonderful fortune, Joey felt something he never before encountered in this situation: pressure to perform.
Allowing this night of witness protection to transform into a conjugal visit was well over any boundary Batgirl could have imagined. She was enveloped with a sexual desire beyond anything she had ever before felt but she had not lost all control. In fact, she was determined to keep some control and reaction capability by making sure she fucked him and not the other way around. He may be thinking this is his night but to Batgirl this escapade was her guilty pleasure.
Still standing at the foot of the bed, Batgirl pulled her panties to her ankles and stepped out of the black thong. She looked at her lover and saw that his boner, which resembled a street sign at a bend, still peaked halfway up his abdomen. She pushed Joey in the chest firmly and he easily fell to his back. She took two steps toward the top of the bed and climbed in the mattress and crawled over his torso so that she was now kneeling with her butt staring him in the face as it rest on his stomach.
Putting her hands behind her, she lowered her body further down his frame until her vulva came into contact with the base of his imploring cock. The touch was magical and she immediately began to wiggle her hips so the firmness of his manhood caressed her clitoris. Moaning commenced as excitement shot electrically through her system. Batgirl grabbed Joey’s shaft and began moving it between her nether lips and across her love button. She did not know what Joey’s capabilities to hold out were but she sensed she would come without delay.
Joey was confused when Batgirl first straddled him. He thought maybe she was going to blow him after all but as she wiggled down his abdomen on her butt to his eager friend he realized that this was a great way to have a girl get off using his dick for a dildo. He wished the room had a mirror so he could see what it looked like. He liked hearing her so genuinely excited but worried as she grooved out, he would shoot his load before entering her. He decided to pull her gently back by her shoulders so they were now both lying down on their backs with her on top of him.
Meeting no resistance, Joey slipped his hands through the arm holes of her top and placed his mitts on her prominent tits. He ever so gently squeezed them in unison, almost as an introduction, and began the joyful task of caressing every inch of them. The size of Batgirl’s mounds were more than adequate – he could cover her tits but not hide them in his grasp – but what made them so fantastic was their firmness. Was her muscle or was she just born with the perfect rack.
With her tits in his hands and his cock in her grasp, he was as energized as he had ever been. Joey was really feeling that he was going to lose it and blow his wad early when Batgirl moved his dick off her clit and channeled him in to her love mine. The euphoria was so off the charts – her pussy was as perfect as her tits and he was now officially fucking Batgirl! It actually eased the tension of early ejaculation.
Batgirl seemed determined to work him as she forced her pussy down further taking him in deeper. Joey removed his right hand from her right breast and wandered down to her enflamed clit and began rubbing it to the rhythm of her thrusts.
“Ooh! Are you trying to kill me?” Joey quickly raised his hand and stopped but Batgirl quickly placed it back. “I’m just kidding. It feels glorious.”
He resumed his action with more vigor as his left hand tugged at her nipple. Batgirl responded with loader moans. Joey looked down at her face and tried to study it in the dark hoping to remember every detail for the lonely days ahead. The mask covered essential areas of her visage but he really felt he was assembling a lasting image of what she looked like as a civilian. She really was beautiful. Her passion enhanced the magnificence. It would be so easy to rip this flimsy mask off her face he thought. It would be off and I could see her before she could ever react. Who knows, maybe if I did it she really wouldn’t mind.
Taking in Joey’s curved cock was unlike any other love-making sensation she had ever had. He was hitting a corner of her womb that no man had penetrated before; that she did not even know existed. Joey’s penis, splitting her labia and filling her vagina while his hand expertly massaged her clitoris, had brought her to a state of nuclear explosion. Impulsively, she sat up again to feel how the shifting of his member reverberated throughout her womanhood. Oh, he was so deep!
Batgirl felt Joey’s hands on her shoulders and realized he was asking her to turn around. Not wanting to lose a moment of his log inside of her, Batgirl pivoted on his cock and was now facing him. Again, the shape of his penis felt different - but fantastic - inside her.
Face to face, sitting, and focusing on each others’ eyes Batgirl rode Joey up and down. She was enjoying this immensely. Each had a queerly satisfied smiles emoting harmony. Breaking the silence, Joey said, “Wait,” and put his hands on her hips to hold her in place. Not fighting, Batgirl stopped and tilted her head in curiosity. The next words out of his mouth were simple, “Trust me.” He placed his rather large right hand over her mask and with his left he reached over her head and yanked her wig up, back, and off her head, throwing it over the side of the bed, but keeping the mask in place. Joey scanned the newly revealed image of her face – her secret identity oh so minimally covered – and smiled approvingly. Batgirl was momentarily stunned; it is not what she expected but there was little that she can do at that point. What she was doing with the witness may not be a representation of her best judgment but she was having fun. She returned his smile and slowly rebounded up and down his pole few times and then leaned back.
Imaging the scene, Joey knew the picture looked great: he sitting on the bed with Batgirl lying on her back; her breasts are exposed as the camisole material was bunched together between her two marvelously formed tits, and his dick plunged as deep into her pussy as it could be. He was thumbing her clit and liked that her landing strip now matched the hair on her head. Batgirl is writhed in pleasure. However, the picture did not capture the pain he felt. Her reclined position combined with his sedentary one was stretching whatever dick tendons he had. He felt like it was going to snap off. He now began to fear her imminent orgasm. She won’t be still, she’ll ruin me. He tried to lean forward a bit to reduce the tautness. A spastic thrust of her hips and he knew she was coming. He focused hard, fought the pain, and released his first latex inhibited load. The discharge momentarily had his ears spinning but oddly it did not feel complete. He was sure he had more to give. Batgirl, on the other hand, could not bluff the attainment she felt.
Much to her disappointment Joey withdrew his penis seconds after coming. She always thought one of the most intimate times couples shared was that post coital stage where they were still physically connected and rediscovering normal breathing patterns. She noticed Joey was slightly turned away from her and she wondered if everything was okay. She tried to re-engage him, “You were amazing. I am speechless with how you made me feel.”
“Do you have another rubber,” he asked almost as if he wasn’t paying attention to her platitudes, “or can I re-use this one?”
“You really never have used one before,” she stated in question-like fashion. “No, condoms are single use but I do have more so let me know when you are ready.”
“I think I’m ready now,” and he stood off the bed and turned around revealing another full, crescent-shaped erection. Joey had stunned Batgirl for the second time in a five minute period. Her first thought was did he come just before? Yes, I felt him swell just before he grunted, I’m sure. But can how can anyone recover so quickly?
“My goodness, Joey Soprano, you must think you are a teenage boy.” She wasn’t sure it she was ready to go again but was conscious of keeping him in good spirits. She decided that maybe this was a good erection to deal with using her mouth. She slid across the sheets and carefully rolled the condom back up over and off his stiff member. She looked at the tip of the condom and saw his semen, not a lot but definitely production. She leaned over and placed the spent soldier on the nightstand. She returned to facing his crotch and grabbed his petrified banana with her left hand and opened her mouth wide to slip it over the head of his shaft. She would focus her attention on the upper third of his torpedo. The taste was different from the other time she took him in her mouth. This recipe had a mixture of spent semen, latex and a whisper of her own sex juices. It wasn’t bad, just different.
As she began to rhythmically bob up and down Joey finally decided that he was ready for conversation. “So you enjoyed it before?”
“Mmmhmm,” Batgirl responded with her full mouth.
With his cock halfway down her throat he paused her by holding her cheeks in his hands. As she looked up he said, “I guess it was a bit of a surprise when I pulled off your wig.”
“Hmmm,” was all she could playfully and ruefully reply.
“It’s just that I really want to see the woman you are under the mask and,” as he moved his hands to either side of her mask and gently but firmly grabbed the edges, “I know I could just rip it off,” Batgirl’s eyes widened with anxiety - one sudden movement by either of them and she would be exposed, “but I decided that I will wait until that day when you are ready to take it off yourself,” and he released his grip. “I will say though in your natural brown hair and this little mask, you are beyond hot, actually the word is gorgeous.”
Batgirl blushed partly out of relief that she was not going to be de-masked with a dick in her mouth and partly for the sincerity with which she knew Joey delivered the compliment. She decided to go back to work on his throbbing projectile and really give him an orgasm that he would always reflect upon.
She was blowing him with gusto and felt that this time around she knew how to navigate his peculiar shaped penis better than the first time. She was really quite into it when he asked, “Can I have that condom, now?”
“I thought I would bring you to come, this way. Are you not enjoying it?”
“Yeah, of course I am enjoying it,” he assured her, “it’s just that I want to do you from behind.”
Batgirl wanted clarity. “Do you mean anal sex?”
“Hell no, I’m not a freak,” Joey protested, “I just want to fuck you doggy style.”
Again, his cross-bred street education was bleeding into the boarding school civility.
“That’s fine,” she said lovingly but secretly worried how raw her vagina would feel, “let me get you set up with a new condom.”
“Why don’t you leave them all out,” he proposed with a smile, “it’ll be a long night.”
Re-attired for lovemaking the two performed a pas-a-deux whereby Batgirl crawled into a position on her hands and shins while Joey walked across the bed on his knees into a position behind her. In the darkness he held his dick as he probed for the opening of her love canal but made sure to rub up against her clit before entering. The gesture was appreciated by Batgirl. She wasn’t sure if she would be dry or not but one touch seemed to instantly release the lubrication they would need to make this mutually enjoyable.
Within moments Batgirl felt the walls of her vulva embrace the thick filling of Joey’s gland. This was a good position for seconds as it allowed her to again experience a distinct sensation from his rounded rocket plus it still gave her mobility if she had to respond. Each thrust was forceful and deep. With her already over-stimulated clitoris she quickly returned to the pleasuredome she had just left. Joey was more talkative this time, not necessarily to her but more bursts of “yes” and “take it”. Amazingly, the plunges increased in velocity. After one thrust drove her face into the headboard Batgirl had to adjust her stance at more of an angle so she could absorb the propulsions with her butt in the air and her face in the pillows. With one of his manic plunges, the resistance of the pillow on her face caused her mask to shift slightly down, off her brow. The next drive lowered the top of the mask down to rest on the bridge of her nose. She knew she should fix it but Batgirl was too busy - reaching between her own legs to caress his balls as he pumped away - to adjust her mask. Besides Joey isn’t even noticing, it must be too dark in the room to notice. Finally, the third power thrust exploded with his semen and pushed her mask all the way down so it was now covering her mouth. The last surge also triggered Batgirl into a series of three or four orgasms punctuated with screams that only ended because she needed to breathe. Behind her, he reached for her tits but she pushed her hands off him, “No, please.” She was out of control and any touch would send her into lightheaded ecstasy again. “You,” breath, “need,” breath, “to,” breath “pullout.”
“I thought women liked it when we stayed in,” Joey countered.
“We do,” Batgirl started and inhaled, “but I need to recover,” and exhaled forcefully.
Joey did not prolong the tease and withdrew his orgasmatron. “I think I like condoms,” he announced.
“Fantastic, let’s talk about it later,” sighed Batgirl as she re-positioned the mask correctly on her face. “Now, let’s take a nap.” She collapsed on the bed. This week was pushing her physical skills to the limit. If Joey said anything else to her she didn’t hear it; her body caved into a deep sleep.
As a rule, Barbara Gordon did not sleep much. Starting from childhood and continuing through her teenage years and college the emerging sunrise would often interrupt her reading or on-line research and prompt her to change her clothes and start a new day. Despite her encyclopedic knowledge of the benefits of sleep her body responded differently than others. She indulged in sleep when she needed it and mostly a few hours was enough to recharge her energy to function at the high levels her lifestyle demanded. This was one of the crucial ingredients that made her an ideal candidate for nocturnal patrols.
When she did sleep she dreamed actively and since intimate relationships were one of the areas that suffered from her secret career choice her dreams often indulged heavily in sexual activity. She rationalized it was definitely a compensation issue but one that didn’t hurt anyone so she did not think much about it. When she did permit herself the infrequent but gratifying dalliance she slept dreamlessly.
So it was with a bit of a slumbering surprise that Batgirl’s mind was processing pleasurable thoughts. In her semi-conscious state she sensed the unmistakable surge of blood rushing to the outer lips of her vagina heightening their sensitivity. Her clitoris surged as one of the erogenous crevices around her neck was equally overrun by a delicious suckling. Clarity of thought materialized and Batgirl now recognized her stimulation was not a dream but the skillful touch of Joey Soprano caressing her vulva and teasingly gliding over her love knob as she lay on her back on the bed.
“How long was I sleeping,” wondered Batgirl? “Daddy” – ooh – “Daddy will be here soon. Oh, it feels soo good.” As Batgirl opened her eyes and looked into Joey’s staring down at her. He smiled. She returned the radiation but kept her mouth closed, she worried how her breath smelled. “Daddy will knock first. He always does.”
Her lubrication was complete. Just as she was about to shift positions to check his hardness and straddle Joey, he entered her and lowered all his weight to her hips, holding her down. The filling sensation felt divine and she paused to let his cock penetrate its full length. “Let me get on top, lover,” Batgirl whispered.
“Sure, in just a second,” Joey replied as his mouth left her deltoid and landed on her left nipple. His licked the whole areola twice then predatorily sunk his teeth around the protruding nipple. The marvelous feel made Batgirl gasp and Joey responded by pumping firmer and quicker. Her state of arousal which never really came down even during sleep was quickly skyrocketing again. The seconds blissfully became minutes. Joey continued his furious propulsions but focused on her eyes, determined to see beyond the mask to the person he was convinced he had a lifetime connection with.
Batgirl’s body and mind were in full orgasm. She pushed her hips into his thrusts as she screamed, “Oh Joey, oh God, yes, A.J., yes, don’t stop A.J., don’t stop.”
The surge of bliss that usually journeyed to his throbbing member this time trekked to Joey’s brain. I haven’t been called A.J since… “Oh my God, you’re from P.S. 14!”
Suddenly, with a violent thunderclap, the bedroom door blew off its hinges quickly followed by the burly shoulder of a stumbling man clad in a light blue Adidas warm up suit. Batgirl’s body instinctively transferred energy to all the right muscles to spring into fighting position but Joey’s body anchored her to the bed with her legs still high in the air. Joey’s head spun around, too, to witness the intrusion and together they saw a thick mountain of a man brush the splinters off his sleeves while another pocked faced man – smaller but built in more everyday proportions – followed behind him turning on the lights. In the moments of ensuing silence Batgirl was racking her mind on how to free herself from this posture, protect Joey, and neutralize these men. The latter two were well within her capabilities. The vulnerability of sex left her unable to assume any fighting chance.
Before Batgirl could take control of the situation, Joey, still fossil hard inside her, screamed at the two men, “What the fuck are you doing here!”
“What’s up, Joey,” the normally built one greeted – he was obviously the brains and communicator of the two – “banging the help, are we?”
It then dawned on Joey how much danger Batgirl was in. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Who knew that ratting on your family entitles you to fuck the Batgirl,” he clarified.
“Her? This is just some whore,” Joey invented.
“Really? Is that so?”
“Think about it. Look at this shit that they set me up with. Look at this: the costume is wrong, the mask is wrong, shit even the hair is wrong. I told them I needed pussy and since the Batpussy wasn’t puttin’ out this is the shit they gave me.” To seemingly add credence to his story, Joey thrust his dick in and out of Batgirl a few more times.
Batgirl picked up on Joey’s story and tried to take it further, “You mean that guy who arranged this was a cop? I ain’t doing this shit for free.”
“Shut the fuck up, puttana,” the intruder commanded. “Orso, tie her to the bedposts while I figure this out. Get the fuck off her, Joey.”
“What about me, Sallie?” Joey diverted, “I got a load to blow.”
“Blue balls should be the least of your concerns right now, you little shit.” Just then Sallie saw Joey’s sheathed dick. “Holy shit, I didn’t think I’d ever see the day when Joey Sausage put on a raincoat.”
“I’m tellin’ you, she’s a fucking whore, you know I’d never wear one of these things otherwise.”
While Joey was protesting, Sallie wandered into the bathroom and came out with Batgirl’s costume in one arm and her cowl in his other hand. “Joey, don’t be fucking with us. This shit sure looks like a real Batgirl costume to me. These clothes have some fucking armor in them. And what’s that over there? It looks like a red wig to me. I’m startin’ to think you had your dick in the real deal and now you’re thinkin’ with that dick and not your head.”
Orso finished securing the last of Batgirl’s limbs so now she was fully on display for all of the men to see. Unlike her bondage of yesterday, this time the ropes burned into her wrists and ankles. Sallie now directed his comments to the bound woman on the bed, “so tell me, are you the Batgirl or some two-bit cunt for hire?”
Batgirl was affronted with his disrespect. “Is that the way your good mamma taught you to talk to girls?”
“What’s your fucking answer: whore or Batgirl?”
“Let me go,” was all she would respond.
“We will, in time,” Sallie offered without much conviction. “First, let’s have a look at what’s behind the mask.” As he moved forward Batgirl pulled on her restraints but there was no give. She gave up her on her acting and jerked her head away as Sallie first reached for her black veil. Holding her chin with one of his surprisingly strong hands he grabbed the bottom of the mask with the other.
Batgirl gave a look to Joey, imploring him to help. All he could say was, “Come on, Sallie, leave her out of this.” His words had no authority with the intruders and Batgirl noticed that his dick which had gone limp as he argued with Sallie was now growing in excitement again at the prospect of her unmasking. He would not save her.
“Come on, let’s end this,” and he lifted the mask completely off her face. Batgirl closed her eyes and hoped this would all go away. After an eternity of silence in the room she opened her eyes again. They were all staring at her. Finally, Sallie turned back to Joey and said, “Sausage, clarify something for me. Is the fucking Police Commissioner’s daughter a whore or is she the Batgirl?”
Joey lowered his head. This revelation was her death sentence.
Batgirl knew this could only end badly. She not only was unmasked but they knew who she was. She knew the revenge her father had exacted on their families was about to be brought down on her. She resolved not show weakness, whatever they would do, she would not cry, she would not cave into emotion. She heard Sallie ask, “Hey Orso, do you want to have the Batgirl suck your dick?”
He answered with his first words of the night, “Yeah that would be nice.” His voice was gentle and therefore deceptive for his size.
Batgirl responded indignantly, “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to do anything like that.”
“Yes, you will,” Sallie countered with intent as he drew his gun, “or I will blow Loverboy’s brains all over your fucking spread pussy.”
Orso felt the urge to speak again, “Can she suck it wearing the mask?”
“Sure, Orso, whaddever you want. That’s a good idea.” Sallie reached down to the floor and picked up the red wig, walked back to the bed, and used it to cover Barbara’s brunette locks. He then lifted her head and placed on the cowl. She was Batgirl again visually but her predicament was as dire as any other helpless woman’s.
Orso stepped closer to her and lowered the waistband of his sweats and underwear. A meaty cock was revealed. “C’mon,” was all he said. Batgirl turned away and then looked straight ahead at Joey with the metal at his temple. She turned back to Orso who now was kneeling on the bed and lifted her head and took hold of the head of his penis in her mouth. She didn’t try to take in any more of him but literally sucked it for a bit. Her technique worked because Orso was quickly at full mast. She hoped she could continue to just pucker around the tip the whole time but Orso grabbed the back of her head with both hands and pulled her completely over him so his hairy boner was fully in her mouth. Any movement of her mouth over his dick was initiated by him as he now held her at the temples and moved her head back and forth along his shaft. Fortunately, he came quickly without much force and without much semen. Despite the small payload his reaction was a fierce grunt of satisfaction.
He then quickly composed himself by pulling up his pants and - with his accustomed succinctness - said, “Thanks, Sallie.”
Batgirl was relieved that the ordeal did not last long and hoped it would be all she would be subjected to. At the end of the bed Sallie and Joey were locked in conversation. Sallie was the more animated of the two. “We thought everything was going good. You turn State’s to get the old man arrested and during the trial your testimony is good enough for protection but not good enough for conviction. Then Big Tony is released and can’t be tried again for double jeopardy. But then you start fucking everything up. First you save the Batgirl when we could have drilled her and sent a strong message to the Commissioner to not mess with us; then at the fucking trial you start improvising and making things look grim for Old Tony. Granted, yesterday was pretty good for us but we are concerned that if you don’t play along again tomorrow, everyone is fucked. Tony – your Papa – is at risk here. We thought everyone understood the plan. Christ it was your idea.”
Joey quickly looked at Batgirl and they locked eyes, his worried and imploring her not to believe what was just said. Hers eyes emoted the rawness of betrayal and hurt.
As if remembering a chore, Sallie suddenly turned away from Joey and focused his attention on Batgirl. “I think I have some unfinished business here, too.” He unzipped his pants and pushed them down to his ankles. Then with his thumbs he lowered his boxer shorts as well. “Hey, chickie, guess what Uncle Sallie has for you?” he teased. He started rubbing out his rather large bologna which was also curved but not nearly to the extent of Joey’s.
Batgirl looked with dismay at what was about to enter her. She had lost any lubrication she had had and now was facing the prospect of considerable pain. “Is having a large penis required to get into the mob?” she wondered.
Sallie crawled between her legs and propped her thighs slightly up using all the slack in the binds that he could. Are you ready for me, Batgirl?” he jested and immediately thrust himself into her unprotected and exposed vagina.
The immediate pain was staggering but Batgirl fought to avoid showing any weakness, any semblance that he was beating her. Up close she realized he was older than he first appeared, the grey pubic hairs were a telling sign, but he was in fairly impressive shape for his age. The walls of her vagina throbbed as the abrasion of his thrusts acted like a metal brush in her love canal.
“Hey Batgirl, you’re okay, not a bad fuck at all,” Sallie announced. “I can see why you wanted to keep her for yourself, Joey.” He continued to take short, measured thrusts. Abruptly, his composure changed and with the change he leaned forward and ripped her Bat camisole down the middle, exposing her breasts to all of them. Still pumping but adjusting himself more upright he slapped her breasts hard back and forth, each blow sounding like a severe spanking. He was yelling incoherently about all the extra work she had made for him and how the Commissioner was a prick. Joey pleaded with Sallie to stop but all he heard were angry voices from years past.
He then slapped Batgirl’s face with both sides of his hand. It stung sharply but Batgirl still kept her form – but it was becoming more difficult. Sallie clutched the top of her cowl and pulled up taking the titian wig with it. He slapped her again but now his voice was calm. “You know what boys?” he said to the onlookers behind him. “I can claim something that no other made man can, not even your old man, Joey.” He was smiling and driving into Batgirl. I’m the only one who has fucked both the Commissioner’s wife and daughter. That’s right, Batgirl,” as he looked down on the shocked face of Barbara Gordon, “I was one of the guys there that night we did it to your mother and you know what, she not only was tighter than you but she had more fight in her, too.”
Never in all her years of training and crime-fighting had any blow hit her with such force. In one sentence Sallie inflicted a brutal humiliation upon her, worse than any unmasking. She became Batgirl to avenge her defenseless mother and bring sharked-eyed people like Sallie to justice. The revelation transformed the Batgirl. With a rage and power she had never drawn upon before she pulled bind around her wrist and broke the wood bedpost securing it. With her freed arm she swung but Sallie was too tall and prepared to connect solidly. She then reached for her Utility Belt. If it meant killing everybody in this room, including herself, Sallie would not live to see another day.
Years of fighting people who did not fight fair educated Sallie to watch everything his opponents might try. As she reached for the compartment, he held her wrist to the belt and with his other fist, punched her square in the jaw and jarring her senses. Just before the next strike landed in the same spot knocking her out completely, Batgirl dazedly thought, “Oh God, he coming inside me. Please, please let this be a bad dream.”
Friday
It’s never a good morning when the first thought you try to process is the conundrum of “What happened?”
Batgirl’s eyes burst open. Sensing she was safe, her body sprang up to a sitting position and she surveyed her surroundings. She was alone and in her bedroom and in FULL costume. Her clouded mind began to process memories in sequence: talking with Joey, sex with Joey, intruders, betrayal, rape, her mother’s rape(!), and now here. It did not make sense. Could it have been a nightmare after all? She bounded from her bed to her vanity where the bruises on her face which coincided with the tenderness of her jaw mirrored back to her the reality she endured. What happened after Sallie mounted me? How did I get back here?
Batgirl looked at the clock on her night table. It was still morning and the trial was due to begin momentarily. She needed to call her father the Commissioner but what would she say? I am sorry I abandoned the witness. How will he ever trust me again?
The witness – Joey – he must have saved me after all. It made sense. The mobsters would never have released me and Joey did know my secret identity. I remember him fighting the big goon – Orso, yes, that was his name – and yelling at Sallie to stop. Now that I am here, how can I sync my story with Joey’s so Daddy doesn’t suspect anything? Oh, I don’t want to lie to him. I am going to have to call him and tell him the truth.
Slowly, Batgirl dialed the Commissioner’s private cell phone number. He picked it up on the first ring.
Caught a bit off guard, Batgirl did not even lower her voice as she usually did when calling him in her crime fighting persona. “Commissioner, it’s me, Batgirl.”
“Batgirl, how are you?” His voice had an empathy that she usually did not receive as the Caped Crusadress.
“I – I am fine Commissioner. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay for the trial.” There was silence on the other end. She wasn’t sure what to say, “You know, after last night…” She deliberately trailed off hoping that he would fill in the blanks.
“There isn’t going to be a trial, Batgirl.”
“Excuse me, Commissioner?”
“Tony Soprano was killed in prison early this morning.”
“I’m sorry, I guess, I mean I did not know. I did not see the news this morning.”
The news agencies are just finding out now,” the Commissioner informed her.
“And Joey? Er, the witness, Anthony Soprano, Jr., what has happened to him?” She was sure this would clear some of the missing pieces from last night.
“Junior Soprano was taken care of.” His response was a bit vague for the answer Batgirl wanted to hear but he continued, “I apologize, Baa – Batgirl – for asking you to look after that monster.”
Batgirl wanted to respond, “oh he really wasn’t that bad,” but her sense of decorum caught her and she replied, “Commissioner, I am always prepared to do anything to help you.”
“Yes, pumpkin, I know.”
Batgirl looked at the phone perplexingly. Did she mishear him or did he just confuse her with his daughter. There was a long pause as neither could decide who should speak next.
Gordon pressed the Disconnect button on his cell phone and halted briefly. He looked forward but saw nothing. The images still dominating his thoughts were of what he discovered in that hotel room and his cold, methodical reaction. Mentally returning to his current environs he focused on a man, close to his height and frame but holding half his years, standing near the wall that served as a stone barrier to the River. The man was dressed appropriately enough but seemed uncomfortable in his clothes. Gordon approached him without hesitation or urgency. He had never met the man before but knew exactly who he was. “It’s done. You can go”
“So that’s it? I’m really free?” The deceptively muscled man was incapable of standing still. “No cops hasslin’ me, trumping up parole violations to return my ass upstate?” Gordon stood silent, half listening but incapable of responding – his dimension of thought was far removed from this man’s prattle. The other man continued, “You know I’m not really free. I ain’t no fool. I know who I shivved last night. You made me sign my own death warrant. It’s only a matter of time before I am a dead man. Tony Fucking Soprano. Do you think his boys will let me get away with that? Some Mic working for the Mob is sharpening his butcher knife right now thinking about how to slice me up. What the fuck was I thinking? You got to protect me.”
“You and I will never see each other again.” Gordon’s direct but unquestionably authoritative statement broke his silence but created a larger one between them in its wake. “You are already taken care of.” Another speechless pause lingered. A few errant park noises were the only sounds defining their surroundings. “Here.” Gordon handed him a file. “A new slot just became available in the Witness Protection program. We have already established a new identity for you in a faraway place. You have a new life. Use it wisely.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Guys like me don’t get deals like that.”
“You have a flight leaving in two and a half hours. I’d advise you not to miss it. Here,” handing him a Founding Father, “take this and grab the first taxi you can find to the airport. There are plane tickets in the folder. On the flight study the contents of the folder well. When you arrive you’ll have money in a bank account to get yourself situated. This is your second chance and your only option. Do well.” Gordon turned and walked away.
Gordon could hear the trailing voice yell, “How’s a brother supposed to survive in Wyoming?” but he kept walking. He never considered looking back.
Jim Gordon dedicated his life to protecting the citizens of Gotham only to learn that he could never shield the ones he cared about most from the menacing horrors of City’s underbelly. Worse, his actions, his pursuit of the underworld put them directly in its path, front and center. It would be the brutal reality he would have to acknowledge but never accept. Sallie, Orso, Tony Senior, and Junior would never be seen again. To the streets he would bring order, but for his family he would deliver justice.