Chapter I
The first man barely had time to react when the dark shape landed squarely on top of him. He yelped as he went down, knocked unconscious by the blow from the full weight of the dark figure.
"Batman!" the second man screamed as he raised his pistol in his hand. He never got to use it as a Batarang flew out of the hand of the dark figure, knocking the pistol out of his hand. Then a sharp blow from a booted foot into the solar plexus of the man knocked the wind out of him, collapsing him onto the ground.
The cowled figure now turned to the final man, still grasping the torn front of the blouse of the blonde in his hands. His eyes were wide as he stared at the cowled figure walking towards him. It took a moment for him to realise that the figure coming towards him was more petite that he expected, and had the pinched waist and full buxom of a woman. He saw that her limbs were more long and slender, rather than muscular.
"Batgirl." The man said under his breath as he let go of the woman in his hands. The costumed figure coming at him was completely unlike what he had seen in the papers or on TV about Batgirl. It was darker some how. Gone were the gloves and boots of bright optimistic yellow, together with the yellow bat logo on the chest of the figure, just above her firm breasts.
All were a brooding black now, including the bat logo, which was made up of no more than a series of stitchings on the chest of the costume forming the shape of a bat. And where the cowl used to let one see the big green eyes and the pouting lips of the young Batgirl, her eyes and the jaws were now completely hidden behind spandex patches stitched to the cowl. The cowl, like the rest of her costume, were made from black PVC fabric, that reflected the light dully.
In spite of himself, or perhaps because of who he was, he could not helped but wonder what the shapely figure looked like naked, under his control. Fantasises started to form in his mind about overpowering the woman in front of him, tying her up and having his way with her. Surely he would be able to take her on, with his body so superbly trained for football.
He never had the chance. The dark figure lashed out with the speed of lightning, and he felt the first crushing blow in his crotch. The pain shot up his body as his bulky body buckled. Then he was retreating step by step as the woman landed blow after blow on his body. The solar plexus, the shins, the shoulders. He never imagined that such a slender body could pack such speed and such power as it delivered attack after attack that his well muscled body could not respond to. He had never felt such pain, even during training. He tried to raise his beefy arms to defend himself, but he always seemed to move too slow to counter the blows raining down on him. Finally, completely spent and in pain, he dropped to his knees and begged, "Please! No more!"
Then, intervention came from a completely unexpected direction. Another dark cowled figure landed in the dark alley just behind the first figure.
"Stop it Batgirl."
It was a man. The Batman. He placed a hand gently on the shoulder of the woman in front of him.
"He's had enough. Let the police handle him."
The Batgirl stopped. She snapped her head around and seemed to look at the Batman. For a moment, the kneeling man wondered if she would attack the Batman, but she took out a gun-like object from a belt around her waist and pointed it up. With a sharp report, a small grappling hook was fired upwards to the roof of the building to the right, and in the next moment, her body was jerked upwards towards the roof, leaving the Batman with the man.
"Thank ..." the man started to say before a crushing punch into his nose knocked him out cold.
The Batman watched the police hauled the three would-be rapists off in their black-and-whites. Then he turned to the dark figure standing next to him.
"Are you sure you are ready for this Barbara? From what I saw just now, I thought you were going to kill him. What's happening with you?"
The Batgirl grasped the top of her cowl and pulled it off her head. Long red hair tumbled out of the cowl and dropped down behind her. Barbara Gordon looked up into the eyes of the Batman.
"I am not a child any more, Bruce." Barbara said, "The media might still call me the Batgirl, but I'm not a girl anymore."
In truth, Barbara knew that she had lost it just now, and could have done some serious injury if the Batman had not stopped her. She did not know where the anger had come from, and it was not the first time that she had come close to excessive violence since she returned to crime fighting. The fact that she could walk again seemed to have unleashed some dark energy within her that had been trapped within her crippled body all those years, when she had been forced to watch from the sidelines when her colleagues like the Huntress and the Mocking Bird went out and kicked butt.
Bruce had helped healed her body by involving her in the experimental treatment programme using stem cells. It had worked better than anyone imagined, partly because – as the doctors told her – she was so strong willed. It had taken two years, but she had not only gotten the use of her legs back, but she had become even stronger than before. Perhaps part of that strength was due to the fact that she was no longer a teenager. The years spent in the wheelchair and in her recovery had turned her into a full woman.
But Bruce had never been able to help heal the wounds in her psyche. The Joker's vicious attack that had crippled her all those years ago continued to haunt her and her dreams. She still woke up in cold sweat at night from nightmares.
There was another kind of wound that had crippled her. The shadow of that attack, and the fact that she was crippled, made it impossible for her to meet and have relationships with men. From the popular girl when she was in college, she had become a lonely woman, despite the fact that she was still beautiful. Even when she had regained the use of her legs, and had killer looks, she found it difficult to really get involved with anyone. It had been a long while she she had been laid, and she sometimes wondered if her aggression came from this deprivation. It did not help that, as she stood next to the Batman and looked at his firm body and square jaws, she felt her body stir with desire.
"Don't worry about me Bruce. We'll talk later, OK?" Batgirl said as she placed the cowl back on her head again, leaving her bright red hair streaming down her back behind her. She had suddenly felt the urge to get away from the Batman, to be away from this man. She took out her grappling gun again, fired the grappling hook onto the roof of the next building, and was gone, leaving a perplexed Batman on the roof.
Chapter II
Batgirl landed on the roof top of the Gotham Central Library, where she used to work. She did not know why she ended up here. Perhaps it was to remember happier days?
But even as she landed, Batgirl saw that something was amiss. A pane in one of the skylights was wide open, which should not be the case. On closer inspection, she saw that a black rappelling rope had been secured to a ventilation shaft near the skylight, and had been let down into the library.
Batgirl gripped the rope, and let herself down into the library. She saw that she was in the section of the library holding priceless collection of old books and manuscripts. As she stood up, she caught a fleeting shadow out of the corner of her eyes. She turned and chased after the dark figure.
It was like hide and seek in the shadows and dark between the tall shelves of the library. The figure was fast, and the Batgirl found that she was being pushed to the limits of even her new found stamina. Her breasts jungled even under the restraint of her PVC costume as she ran.
At last, the Batgirl had a clear shot as the figure ran between two shelves, and in an instant, the Batarang was out of her hand, trailing the thin strong cable behind it. The cable wrapped itself around the legs of the figure, bringing it crashing to the floor. The Batgirl was on top of the figure in an instant.
"Catwoman!" Batgirl exclaimed. Indeed, it was that cat burglar. The green eyes staring up at her were unmistakenable. So was the long slender body beneath her. But she looked completely differently from the last time she had seen her. Instead of the black PVC catsuit and cat-like cowl that she usually wore, the figure with the steel cable wrapped around her legs under her was dressed like some sort of a fetish catelogue. The writhing figure wore a tight black PVC corset that encircled her narrow waist, and squeezed her heavy breasts up and together, forming a deep cleavage. Her long slender legs were clad in a pair of high heel PVC boots, topped off with fishnet stockings held up by garters straps running from the corset.
But the strange thing about her costume was the fact that her head was completely encased in a PVC bondage helmet that covered her head completely, except for small slits over her eyes and tiny holes over her nostrils. Where there should be an opening for her mouth, there was nothing but a broad strap covered in black PVC encircling the whole of her lower jaws round to the back of her head where it was secured with two , with a ball shaped bulge where her mouth should be. From the look of her jaws, the Batgirl realised that a large ball gag had been placed in Catwoman's mouth, gagging her effectively. The bondage helmet ended around her throat with a black jewel-studded collar, the kind that one often sees on pampered cats.
The even stranger thing was that the Catwoman's was wearing a chastity belt of some sort, which was locked in front by a small padlock that secured the PVC covered thong-like structure. As Catwoman struggled with the steel cables around her legs, Batgirl could see that the thick chastity belt covered her crotch completely and snuggly, and there was a knob where Catwoman's vagina mouth would be. Batgirl guessed that the knob must be the end of a dildo inserted into the woman. From the size of the knob, the dildo must have been enormous.
Further back, where Catwoman's anus would be, a thick black rubber tail emerged from the chastity belt. From the way it moved with every twist of Catwoman's hips, it seemed that the tail was attached to an anal plug inserted into the woman. Again, judging from the size of the rubber tail, she guessed that such a butt plug must be truly large.
Batgirl could not understand why Catwoman was breaking into a library in such a get up, but that question was not on the top of her mind at the moment. For some strange reason, the sight of Catwoman in bondage costume ignited a sort of fire in the loins of Batgirl as she pinned the woman down onto the floor and she straddled the bound legs of the lithe woman. Why was she feeling this way?
For a moment, Batgirl lost her focused, and it proved her undoing. Catwoman twisted her right wrist free, and sucker punched Batgirl. Batgirl groaned and jerked up. At the same time, Catwoman drove a knee deep into Batgirl's crotch. She grunted in pain and her grip on the cable binding Catwoman's legs loosened. Catwoman quickly kicked off the coils around her legs and kicked Batgirl in her stomach, knocking the wind out of her, and landing her on her back. She tried to get up and regain her balance, but Catwoman took the batarang with the cables, and was on top of Batgirl in an instant. She turned Batgirl onto her stomach, and crossed the wrist of the redhair behind her back, over the cape of her costume. She expertly tied the woman's wrists together with a few quick loops of the cable. Then she got off Batgirl's back, and pulled on the long red hair of her prisoner while sitting down on the ankles of the prisoner. Batgirl was pulled painfully onto her knees.
Catwoman quickly looped the other end of the cable around her thighs, just below her buttocks, and tied them tightly together, effectively hobbling Batgirl. She then inserted the end of the cable between the captive's legs, and passed it to the front of her groin. Catwoman stood up and came round to the front of Batgirl. She grasped the end of the cable and pull forward.
As the cable became taut, it dug into Batgirl's crotch. Catwoman squatted down before her captive, and probed her crotch with her fingers. Batgirl tried to squeezed her legs together to keep out this unwelcomed intrusion, but a tight slap across her face stunned her enough for Catwoman to find the labia lips of her vagina mouth with her fingers. Probing through the costume's PVC material, Catwoman spread the lips and pushed the cable between them. She then pulled the cable taut again, forcing Batgirl to climb painfully onto her feet. Catwoman stood up and with another tug, forced Batgirl to trot forward behind her as she led her off.
Batgirl found that while she could stand up, the cable binding her thighs together effectively hobbled her and prevented her from taking a normal stride, much less kick with her feet or run. It was extremely efficient and effective bondage. To add to her humiliation, it was accomplished with her own batarang and cable.
As Catwoman led her out of one large room into another, Batgirl knew that she was in serious trouble. She couldn't believe that she had allowed her guard down so easily. She knew that it was because of the strange sight of Catwoman in her strange costume and the lust that it had ignited in her. But, incomprehensibly, the thought that popped into her head was not how to free herself, but how Catwoman had managed to move so fast with a dildo in her vagina and a butt plug in her ass. Even now, as she trotted behind her captor, she could not help but noticed the way Catwoman's ass moved behind her as she walked, with the tail swinging beneath her buttocks from side to side like a real cat.
Catwoman led the captive Batgirl through a small door and down a flight of staircase until they emerged into the basement of the library. Batgirl, as Barbara Gordon, was familiar with this place. She knew that there was a loading and unloading bay in the basement. Sure enough, she saw a van parked at the bay, with the back opened, obviously waiting for Catwoman and herself. Two burly men dressed in overalls with caps pulled down low over their brows were waiting for them.
Batgirl felt a hot flash of humiliation on her face at the thought that they were looking at her, helplessly bound with a cable pushing up into her crotch. She was glad that the cowl of her new costume enclosed her face entirely, hiding her shame. For a brief moment, she rebelled against her captivity, and tried to resist, pulling back on the cable that was leading her towards the van. But the men would have none of it. They came up to her and seized her arms, holding her in powerful grips that she could not fight against, bound as she was. They dragged her and pushed her into the back of the van, where she landed on her face on a soft mattress. Catwoman walked in after her, and the back of the van was closed. Almost immediately, the van was driven off.
"You have done well, my pussycat." Said a man's voice. Batgirl lifted her head to see a man seated on a chair towards the front of the van. He was looking down at her, with an obvious satisfied look on his face.
"Now, put her into the bondage harness."
Catwoman turned to one side of the van, where a number of leather bondage gear were hung from hooks on a rack. She took a piece that looked somewhat like an octopus, with leather tentacles springing out from three interconnected metal rings. She came over to Batgirl, and pulled on her cape, lifting the woman onto her knees. With a powerful jerk of her arm, the cape came loose from its moorings to Batgirl's cowl. Flinging the cape aside, she undid the buckle holding Batgirl's utility belt around her waist, and pulled it aside, and dropped it onto the floor of the van.
"Stop Catwoman! Why are you doing this?" Batgirl demanded, but Catwoman could not,of course, reply with the gag in her mouth. She placed the harness over the shoulders of the bound woman, such that the harness were spread down her body in front and behind, with one metal ring between her shoulder blades, one between her heaving breasts, and one just over her navel.
Catwoman took the pair of leather straps that were pinned laterally from the ring, and pulled it back behind Batgirl, under her arms. She inserted the tongue on the end of one of the strap into the buckle on the end of the other strap, and drew the straps tightly around the woman's chest before buckling the straps firmly in place. She repeated the process with the identical pair of straps secured to the metal ring over Batgirl's navel.
Once this was done, Catwoman took the pair of straps that ran downwards from the ring between Batgirl's shoulder blades, and the ring over her navel. She passed the strap in front of Batgirl between the captive's legs, and pulled it back and up between the crack of her buttocks. She mated it up to the buckle dangling from the end of the strap running down her back, and pulled the straps tight. As the straps retracted, the strap running over Batgirl's crotch was drawn tight. She felt the strap splitting the lips of her labia, forcing its way into her. She could not helped but moaned at the sensation.
Catwoman turned her attention to Batgirl's thighs. She selected a pair of leather straps with. These straps had D-rings secured to their centre, and were secured together with a double-ended bolt snap. Catwoman secured each of the strap around one of her captive's shapely thighs, just below the point where the cable bound them together. It was only when Batgirl's thighs had been secured together that Catwoman untied the cable from around her thighs leaving her wrists still bound together.
Catwoman now took what looked like a large sleeve made of heavy hide from the rack. She pushed Batgirl flat onto her stomach again, and pushed her arms upwards as far as they would go. This pinned her into the mattress. Batgirl struggled in vain against the superior leverage of the woman on top of her, but with her arms lifted up high over her back, she could offer little resistance, even when Catwoman untied her wrists. She pulled off each of Batgirl's gloves before slipping the sleeve over both her arms. As the sleeve was pulled down over her arms, it became progressively narrower, pressing Batgirl's arms together. Once the top of the sleeve came down to Batgirl's armpits, Catwoman took two straps that ran from the top of the sleeve on the side next to Batgirl's torso, inserted one under each of her armpits, then draw them forward over the front of her chest, just over her breasts, crossed them, then pulled them back over her shoulders. She then fed the tongue of the straps into buckles secured to the top of the sleeve, on the side facing Catwoman. She pulled on the tongues of each of the strap until they were taut before securing the tongues into the buckles.
To ensure against even the remotest possibility that Batgirl could wriggle herself loose, Catwoman tightened the laces that ran down the face of the leather sleeve. As they were tightened, the sleeve constricted around her arms, pressing them even more firmly together, and pulling her shoulders back. Batgirl moan at the discomfort of this situation. When at last Catwoman was done with her, Batgirl's elbows were almost pressed together behind, and her hands were compressed together at the end of the leather sleeve. It was cruel and effective bondage.
Catwoman let go of Batgirl's now bound and useless arms, and took her knee off Batgirl's back. She sauntered over to the man in the wheelchair. To Batgirl's amazement, she knelt down on her knees next to the man's wheelchair, and rubbed her cheek against his legs, like a cat would. Her amazement turned to shock when the man handed the woman a pair of handcuffs, and she put them around her wrists without even a moment's hesitation.
The handcuffs were linked by a foot-long chain between them, and another foot-long chain was linked at one end to this middle of the first chain. There was a small snap hook at the other end of the chain, which the man snapped into the D-ring in front of the collar on Catwoman's bondage helmet. She did not resist at all as she was put in chains.
"What's happening? What have you done to Catwoman?" Batgirl demanded even as she struggled with her own leather bonds. She managed to wriggle herself into a kneeling position.
"Nothing more than what I will be doing to you." The man said, smiling, "By the time I am done with you, you will be a docile little pet as Catwoman here is."
As he spoke, the man patted Catwoman on her head. She sighed contentedly as he did so. A thousand thoughts shot through Batgirl's mind. What exactly had he done to Catwoman? And what was he going to do to her? How had he managed to make the fiery Catwoman that Batgirl knew so well into this docile slave that she saw before her.
"Never. I will never be your slave." Batgirl said defiantly.
"We shall see, my dear. Pussycat here hadn't succumbed easily either, but we have ways of making you compliant. But for now, I have enough of your defiance. You shall make the rest of your journey in silence."
At his words, Catwoman selected a leather bondage helmet from side of the van. She came over to Batgirl. Even with her wrists chained together in front of her, Catwoman had no difficulty in overpowering the much more securely bound Batgirl under her, and turned her onto her stomach. As she struggled, the bondage helmet was slipped over her head. There were two neat holes on top of the helmet that allowed the bat ears of her cowl to emerge, but the rest of the helmet were relentlessly severe. It did not even have holes for the eyes. The only opening was over the nose. The helmet was pulled into place, and Batgirl felt the laces on the helmet behind her head being secured tightly into place, causing the leather to grip her head and face tightly. She felt her jaws being pressed together, effectively preventing her from opening them. She was very effectively gagged and blindfolded. And with the thick material of the helmet, she could no longer hear clearly. When the helmet was secured, she felt Catwoman's body got off her, leaving her to experience her captivity alone in the darkness and silence.
Chapter III
Batgirl awoke to powerful arms pulling her up onto her feet. She was half shoved, half dragged forward. Her mind was confused as powerful hands forced her forward first in one direction, then in another. She could not tell which way she was going at all. The bondage helmet had not been taken off her head, and she felt completely disoriented.
At last, Batgirl was brought to a complete halt, then forced onto her knees. She heard muffled voices around her, as if they were discussing something. Then she heard a shout from a man's voice, loud enough to penetrate even the thick material of her bondage helmet: "Search her thoroughly. We do not want any surprises."
A chill ran down her spine as to what this could possibly mean. She felt herself thrown forward, once again onto a foul smelling mattress. Hands grabbed at her boots, and soon they were tugged off. With the boots went her emergency transmitters, a blade hidden in the soles, wire saws and acid capsules. She had already lost another blade, a skeleton key, and an electronic skeleton key (actually a small chip that could scramble and fry the circuits of a electronic lock) when Catwoman had taken off her gloves.
Now rough hands felt her up and down her costume clad body. She felt the hands knead her breasts. There was nothing much underneath her costume. She did not wear any bra and panties under the costume. A pair of fabric cups inserted strategically over her chest prevented her nipples from leaving impressions over the front of her costume. But her captors apparently distrusted even these pads over her breasts, or perhaps they were intent on humiliating her, for she was lifted up into a kneeing position, and she felt the front of her costume being pulled forward and sliced with a sharp blade. She could both hear and feel the ripping sound of the fabric as it gave way before the blade, and she felt the sudden coolness over her breasts as they suddenly popped out into view. The all too familiar sense of shame returned to her as she felt her firm breasts juggle before her as she struggled against the power arms holding her.
Batgirl was now forced to bend forward from her kneeling position. She could feel her breasts being pulled down by the force of gravity, and could only wonder what kind of spectacle she must be making for her captors. That quickly became the least of her worries. With her butt raised high into the air behind her, she felt the leather strap over her crotch beind undone. Once her crotch was uncovered, the fabric of her costume over her crotch was pinched and pulled away. She felt the fabric being pierced, and then viciously ripped apart with a knife, and a sudden coolness greeted her crotch. For added measure, the fabric was ripped asunder over her ass, exposing her buttocks completely. It was completely unnecessary of course, but was carefully calculated to add to her humiliation. She screamed into her bondage helmet at this treatment, and her butt waved behind her as she tried to break free from the hands holding her down. She dreaded what was to come next.
It did not take long as she felt latex clad fingers begin to probe her asshole. They were heavily lubricated, but the inspection was not done gently. The fingers were shoved in hard and fast, and she felt the tips swept her rectum, looking for anyting hidden there. There wasn't. The fingers were withdrawn, then reinserted into her, this time up her vagina. She felt the shock as the fingers thrust deep into her, and she bucked. The hands holding her down pressed her deeper into the mattress to hold her still as the fingers in her vagina probed deeper and deeper. This time, they found something, and a small capsule was dragged out from deep within her. It was the last emergency transmitter that she had on her and with it went the last hope that someone might find her at where ever she had been brought to.
With the humiliating search now complete, her captors now replaced the leather strap over her crotch, taking care to spread her labia lips so that the strap went deep into her as they buckled it in place again. Batgirl was dragged onto her feet again, and again shoved forward, then left and right until she again lost her sense of direction. The bare concrete under her bare feet felt cold as she padded along. She felt her breasts juggled in front of her as she was shoved forward, bouncing up and down as she was forced to move too fast for her hobbled legs.
At last, they stopped again, and Batgirl was shoved forward onto another mattress that smelled of something awful. It was only then that the laces of her bondage helmet were loosened, and the leather piece taken off her head. Then her captors backed off, and she heard the loud sound of a heavy metal door being slammed into place behind her.
Batgirl turned around onto her back, and it was only then that she could look down and see the handiwork of her captors. The front of her costume was ripped clean across her front, and her firm breasts would be seen completely. Twisting her body, she looked down to see her naked ass. For a moment, she lost the grip on her emotions, and she felt tears welled up in her eyes, and her body trembled with sobs at how she had been treated. The tears were trapped by the fabric stretched over her eyes, and she felt the wetness against her face.
It took a while before Batgirl finally regained control over herself. She slowly got onto her knees, and turned to examine her new surroundings. She was in a small cell, barely big enough to contain the mattress she laid on lengthwise. The cell was just broad enough to leave two strips of bare concrete on either side of the mattress. There was a crude hole at one corner of the cell that smelled foul, and she realised that it was the only form of sanitation available to her in the cell.
Bad as this was, the wall directly opposite the heavy metal cell door was lined with a large mirror, which reflected Batgirl in her ripped costume, struggling helplessly with the leather harness binding her. The sight of herself still clad in her costume, with her face still completely hidden by the full face mask, but her breasts and ass so completely exposed to view, seemed suddenly so absurd. Batgirl almost lost it again, but managed to maintain a tenuous hold on her emotions. She was not willing to give her captors any more pleasure from her weakness than she could help. Then, exhausted from her ordeal, Batgirl slumped onto the mattress, and fell into a fitful sleep.
Batgirl was awoken when a tiny little hatch on the heavy metal cell door was swung open on rusty hinges, and a metal feeding bowl was shoved through it. It was a feeding bowl of the type used for dogs, and the food contained in it was not much better than dog food. It was greasy and foul looking, but her hunger gnawed at her. It was only when she tried to bite at the food that she realised that she could not get at it. She was still wearing her cowl, and the spandex over her jaws were still stretched over her mouth, forming a barrier from the food. Surely her captors must know this as well. It was another added layer to her torment!
When her captors returned, they opened the hatch and pulled back the bowl.
"Not hungry are we?" said a voice mocking. Batgirl turned away so that she would not scream through the hatch at the man.
This torture was repeated over the next couple of days. To Batgirl's hunger was now added thirst. She could wet her lips when her captors shove a bowl of water into her cell, but she was unable to lap up large amount of water through the fabric covering her face.
Finally, at one point, Batgirl could not take it anymore, and when her captors reappeared once more she begged them to remove her cowl. When the words came out of the mouth, it shocked her, for she had essentially asked the men to remove expose her identity. But her plea was greeted with derisive laughter.
"We will decide when it comes off." The voice said as the hatch was shut again.
How long had she been a prisoner, Batgirl asked herself as she awoke with a start again. She could not tell. Time seemed to have no meaning for her anymore as she lay on her back in agony. Waiting. Waiting for her captors to come and relieve her suffering. Her ears pricked up when she heard steps coming down the corridor outside. Then, a key was inserted into the lock, and the cell door swung open.
Batgirl was almost delarious with joy at seeing a burly man standing before her. She struggled onto her knees, and looked up expectedly at him. He slapped her across the face with the back of his hand, knocking her into the wall on the side. She slumped down, stunned. The man took hold of Batgirl's bondage harness, and swung her onto the mattress, on her stomach. He undid the buckle holding the strap against her crotch. Then, he lifted her butt up into the air, forcing her knees forward. With her buttocks raised, he undid his trousers.
"No!" Batgirl screamed as she looked into the mirror in front of her and saw the man taking out his penis. The man ignored her as he rammed the stiff rod of flesh into her pussy. Batgirl screamed from the pain as the man pumped her again and again, riding her vigorously until she felt him ejaculated into her. When he let her go, she slumped into the mattress, sobbing.
"You worthless piece of trash." The man said as he secured his pants again. Then he flipped the sobbing Batgirl onto her back, and took out a small knife. He cut the spandex fabric on the cowl that was stretched over her lower face down to her chin, exposing her thick lips, but left the spandex patches over her eyes intact. Her identity, for time being at least, was still hidden. Then he kept the knife and left Batgirl alone again in her cell.
Shortly after she was raped Batgirl was allowed to feed and drink properly. Her captors had delivered two bowls at once, one with the familiar stew, and the other full of water. She drank and ate as deeply as she could. The presence of food and water forced the attention of her mind away from her rape, but it could not take away her shame.
Over what seemed like weeks, Batgirl's existence became blurred into a seemingly endless chain of feeding sessions and rape. She would only be fed after she had been used at least once by one of her captors. The two had become linked in her existence. If she was to be fed, she would have to accept being used as a fuck toy by her captors.
And her captors would not only use her in her pussy. Batgirl had to endure being used in her other orifices as well. She had never been fucked in her anus before, and the first time she had been searched there was a shock to her. Her first rape there was an even bigger trauma for her. The man had not been gentle. They never were. At least he lubricated her hole with a latex clad hand before he inserted his manhood into her. As her asshole stretched to accommodate the penis, she could not help but scream in pain. The man ignored her pleas for him to stop as he pumped her until he ejaculated into her, leaving a trail of semem from her asshole.
Then there was the first time when Batgirl had been forced to suck a man. She had never done it before, and the thought of having the cock in her mouth caused her to gag. Her captor had been most unhappy, and to prevent her from making any imprudent move, he had used a ring gag on her. Forcing her jaws open, he inserted the ring gag between her jaws before buckling the straps behind her head. Then, without any ceremony, he placed his cock directly into her open mouth. The taste almost made her retched, but the man was not going to remove it until she made him come. So, awkwardly at first, she began to manipulate the cock with her tongue. It took her awhile, but she finally made the man hard before he ejaculated a full load of semen into her mouth. She coughed and sobbed at the same time. The man did not even bothered to remove her ring gag, but left it on her until it was time for her next feeding.
From being deprived of sex to being overloaded with it, Batgirl could hardly handle it. Being used as a fuck toy was overwhelming her psyche, already made fragile by the abuse that she had suffered all those years. Her confinement in her cell, cut off from all contact except for her captors added more havoc to her mind. She began to crave human contact, any human contact at all, even of that abusive and humiliating kind that her captors were providing.
And Batgirl's captors were fiendlishly exploiting this basic human need for contact. They would go for long stretches without appearing to her, without feeding her, leaving her completely alone in her cell. When at last they did appear, Batgirl was almost welcoming as they subject her again to another rape.
Batgirl could not believe that she had become such a slut, allowing herself to be used in this way. Mere weeks ago, she would have been enraged by her treatment, and would have fought with all her strength and all her will against such a fate. But it had been so easy for her captors to crush her once they had her in their power, so easy for them to bend her to their will. She was completely helpless, bound and imprisoned as she was, completely at the mercy of her captors, dependent on them for food and water. Even when she relieved herself was controlled by her captors, unless she wanted to leave herself soiled.
Such was her shame that Batgirl avoided looking herself in the mirror. Her reflection, with her costume cut open to expose her most vulnerable parts was a reminder of her pathetic state. The bat logo over her naked breasts, which had symbolised so much power, now seemed to be a mocking reminder of how far she had fallen. When Batgirl did, inadvertantly, caught sight of herself, she could not help but weep at what had become of her.
Batgirl's life in captivity had become routine for her. But her captors was not to leave her like that for long.
Chapter IV
They came for Batgirl when she was asleep. She was awaken by the sound of the heavy metal door swinging open and three men came into the room. They picked her off the mattress, and while two of them held her by her bound arms, the third fitted a huge black rubber gag into her mouth. The gag was shaped like the tip of a large penis, and was fitted to a leather cup that fitted snuggly against her jaws. The cup, in turn was fitted with a series of straps, which were then criss-crossed over her head and buckled in place. A pair stretched around her jaws to the back of her neck. Another pair reached up the sides of her face to the crown of her head. A third pair was attached to the second pair, and went round her brow and were secured to the back of her head. Thus brutally and effectively gagged, they placed a black leather blindfold over her eyes before they dragged her out of the cell she had been put in for so long.
Batgirl tried to follow as well as she could, but her captivity in such a small space and her poor diet over such a long period had taken their toll. She was very weak, and the men had almost to carry her between them as they moved through a confusing series of turns.
When they stopped, Batgirl's blindfold was removed, and she found herself in a large barn with wooden walls and zinc roof. The space was lit only by the sunlight streaming in through the space between the top of the wall and the zinc roof, as well as cracks between the wooden planks forming the walls of the barn. The bright sun shining onto the zinc roof, the interior of the barn was as hot and humid as a sauna.
Rows of narrow wooden tables were lined up in the barn, and Batgirl saw that there were women laying on top of the tables. They were in various stages of dress. Some were completely naked. Others were clad in their lingerie. Still others had some of their street clothes on.
But, all the women were rock still, and Batgirl, much to her horror, could see why. They were all held tightly to the table top with chickenwire. The chickenwire were stretched over their entire body, from head to toe, conforming to the curves of their bodies. The chicken wire gripped their bodies tightly, preventing any movement.
After letting the situation sink in, Batgirl's captors dragged her forward between the tables until they arrived at an empty table near the centre of the barn. A number of items could be seen on top of the table. There were rolls of chickenwire placed next to an enormous butt-plug and an over-sized dildo. Wires ran out of both of those sex toys, and ran out of sight through a small hole drilled in the table. There was a larger hole drilled next to the first one, with a zinc funnel resting next to it.
"What do you think of my chick farm?" said a familiar voice. Batgirl looked to her left to see the man whom she had seen with Catwoman the first night of her captivity. To her surprise, she saw that he was in a motorised wheelchair. Darting her eyes around, she tried to see if Catwoman was with him, but she was nowhere to be seen.
The crippled man cruised up to the empty table, with an evil smile on his face. Batgirl tried to mumble something defiant into her gag, but it sounded more like a whimper through all the leather and rubber of her gag. Her captors pushed her forward and held her firmly in their hands as the crippled man leaned forward in his wheelchair, and cupped one of her firm breasts with one wrinkled hand. He fondled it as if he was feeling its weight and firmness.
"Very good. I am sure you will fetch us a high price, even without the added exotic factor." The man said, smiling, "But, first, of course, we would have to continue with your treatment."
Turning to one of the men, he said, almost casually, "You may start."
The men turned Batgirl around. The straps binding her thighs together was removed, before one of the men stepped forward with a sharp knife, and begin to cut her costume away from her body. He started first with a vertical cut down the front of her costume, exposing her from her breasts down to her crotch, where her bright red pubic hair formed a turf between her legs. He then cut through the shoulders of the costumes, before slicing down her back to cut the costume apart in the rear, rendering nude her trim back with its sinuous spine. The costume fell away from her torso and gathered around her thighs. He sliced down each of the legs of the costume with the knife, and the shreds fell away completely, leaving only Batgirl's cowl, the sleeves, and the front of the costume over her chest with the bat logo stitched on it still attached to her body. It seemed that they were deliberately leaving that logo on her. Whatever abuse and humiliation she was to endure, she had to do it as Batgirl.
As the men were stripping the costume from her, Batgirl managed to get a good look at the woman trapped under the chickenwire on the table next to her. She was a tall and well-built african woman with dark brown skin. She was obviously an athelete, for her limbs were well muscled and her stomach was flat. She wore what appeared to be the remnants of a short white tennis dress. The front had been completely sliced open and ripped apart, exposing the white sports bra and panties she wore underneath. The cups of the sports bra had been cut up as well, exposing the large breasts of the woman. The mounds of her breasts bulged up from her body like domes, ending in dark brown nipples that pocked through the hexagon of the chickenwire. The front of her panties had been sliced open, exposing her dark pubic hair. Her crotch was partially covered by a zinc funnel that had been placed between her legs.
The woman wore her hair in bleached dreadlocks, which were splayed away from her trapped head. The woman was looking at the newcomer out of the corner of her eyes. She could not move her head at all to look at Batgirl. She had strong facial features underneath the leather cup covering her face. Suddenly, Batgirl recognised the woman. She was one of the greatest woman tennis player in the world at the time, and she had won the French Open recently. Batgirl shuddered to think of how dangerous her captors were, to be able to kidnap a celebrity like the woman before her, and how impudent they were, to even dare such an enterprise.
The african woman seemed to recognise Batgirl as well. Or at least the costume. Batgirl wondered if the woman was thinking the same thing as she had just a moment ago.
Batgirl's captors loosened the laces on the leather sleeve around her arms before they pushed up her arms high into the air, forcing her to bend forward. Then the sleeve was unbuckled and slipped off her arms. For a moment, her arms were free, but her captors held her firmly between them as they lifted her up and placed her on top of the table. She tried to struggle, but her efforts were too weak. They lifted up her legs high to expose her crotch. One of the men lubricated the dildo and inserted the instrument into her. The huge rubber monster felt as if it would burst her asunder, but the man disregarded her cries of pain as he rammed it home. It was soon followed by the butt-plug, which was pushed into her with the same lack of mercy and concern. With the two monsters within her, Batgirl felt as if she had been filled to the point of bursting.
When the sex toys had been inserted into Batgirl, the men forced her flat on her back. The first roll of chickenwire was spread over her lower legs, and tightly pulled into place around her legs and the table top. The roll of chickenwire was secured underneath the table with wires looped and twisted into place. The chickenwire was stretched so tightly over her lower legs that she found that she could not moved them. The material was also surprisingly strong and resisted her struggles with ease.
Her captors now turned to her torso. Her arms were placed next to her body. The width of the table was about the same as that of her body with her arms next to her. With two men holding her arms firmly against the A roll of chickenwire was spread over her. With two men holding her arms firmly against her body, the chickenwire was spreaded out and wrapped tightly over her arms and body. Batgirl could feel the steel wires press into her flesh as her captors tightened the chickenwire over her torso. Glancing down, she could see the hexagons pressing into the soft tissue of her firm breasts, forcing small mounds of flesh to emerge past the wires. The discomfort was especially bad where the areola around her nipples pressed against the chickenwire.
With her arms, torso and legs firmly pressed into the table, Batgirl's captors picked up the zinc funnel, and inserted it between her legs, just in front of her crotch. The end of the funnel was placed into the hole drilled into the table top. With the mouth of the funnel was opened towards Batgirl's crotch, and the men pulled back her labia lips to expose the orifice of her urethra. The men then taped the labia lips back with surgical tape. This allowed her to relieve herself into the zinc funnel. When this was done, a third roll of chicken wire was wrapped over her hips and groin, stretched and secured into place. A fourth roll was spread over her feet. Her feet were pressed together, and the chickenwire shaped over them. The ends of the chickenwire were then spread down the side and over the end of the table, and secured below.
The final piece of chickenwire was now spread over Batgirl's head. As a man held her head firmly looking up, the wire was spread over her head, and formed over her face. The ends of the chickenwire was then spread over the sides and the end of the table, and then secured below.
Her new bondage was now complete. Her captors busied themselves with tidying up the ends of the chickenwire, joining the different sheets together by twisting the ends of the chickenwire together. They left Batgirl to struggle with the chickenwire holding her down, knowing full well that it was impossible for her to break loose from their confines.
"How are we feeling, my bear Batgirl?" the man in the wheelchair asked, laughing as he observed his captive, "Shall we make it more fun? I think we shall. Put the clips on her nipples."
Before Batgirl could understand what the man meant, one of the captors produced a pair of crocodile clips from which wires trailed. She felt her blood run cold and wondered what they wanted to do to her. The man clipped her erect nipples with the crocodile clips and stepped back.
"Let the treatment begin."the crippled man said.
Batgirl grunted into her gag as a light electric current stung her nipples. The current felt like insect bites on her sensitive tits, but they were definitely not comfortable. Her tormet was shortly added to when the monsters within her suddenly came to life, vibrating with such vigour that her hips begin to vibrate to the rhythm of the toys embedded into her. She moaned into her gag at the overwhelming sensations coming from her nipples and her nether regions.
"Let's leave our little cunt here to enjoy her new experience, shall we?" Batgirl could hear the cripple man said mockingly, before her captors left her in her prison of chickenwire, with all her sensitive region overstimulated.
Batgirl would not have believed that her captivity would get worse, but the new captivity was definitely south of the little cell that she had been imprisoned in. In the cell, she could at least move her body to a limite degree, even if her arms were trapped behind her. In this new bondage, her body was almost entirely immobile. And she did not have the two monsters inserted into her two lower orifices, nor the crocodile clips on her nipples.
The current to her nipples and the toys within her would start and stop at unpredictable intervals. Batgirl would fall asleep, only to be shocked awake by the assaults on her body. She would inevitably moan and fight against the chickenwire confining her, to the usual futile results.
From the gagged screams and moans of women around her, Batgirl guessed that the others were being subjected to the same treatment. Given the way her head was held, she could not look around, but could only try to glance out of the corners of her eyes. Since she was laying flat on her back, there was not much she could see to her sides. All she could see was up to the zinc roof.
At intervals, her captors would come around, and carrying tubes. The leather cup holding Batgirl's jaws had a hole in its centre, aligned to a hole piercing the centre of the rubber penis gag in her mouth. Her captors would insert the end of a tube into the hole, and connect the other end to a bag of liquid. The first time they did this, they squeezed the bag, forcing the fluid into her mouth. It tasted like a glucose solution, and she guessed that this was the way she was to be fed as long as she was imprisoned here. It took her a while to figured out how to draw the glucose solution from the bag without the help of the men. She had to suck on the penis gag, working the hard rubber with her cheeks and tongue, almost as if she was sucking a man off. It took a while to get the technique right, and a lot of effort was still needed to suck the glucose solution through the long tube, but there was no other way she could sustain herself.
With her body being fed only with the glucose solution, the only waste product was liquid in nature. She had tried to control her bladder the first time for as long as possible, but the two monsters within her made it impossible for her to hold her waste liquid in. She had to relieve herself into the funnel. It was not easy doing it laying on her back, and it was yet another humiliating experience, especially as her captors would come by once in a while to observe her doing it. When she urinated, she could hear the urine trickle down to the floor underneath her. She could hear the other women doing the same, and realised that none of them had any real choice but to perform their bodily function this way. Any freedom had been taken away from them, and they were nothing more than farmed animals existing at the mercy of their captors.
To add further to Batgirl's torment, the humidity and ventilation in the barn was horrifying, and she perspired profusely, adding to the grime all over her body. The grime, in turn added to her discomfort, and she never felt more like a dirty animal than now. Sometimes, her captors would come by each table and hose down the captives, playing a power spray of water up and down their bodies before concentrating a full blast on her crotch to wash the accumulated dried cum and urine. With her labia lips parted, the powerful blasts assaulted her sensitive region without mercy. Yet, this was always the most welcome part of her existence, for it helped to cool her off and relieved some of the discomfort of her bondage. But all too soon, all the torment from the sex toys deep within her, from the crocodile clips, from the chickenwire would exert themselves again.
In a way, though, all those torments began to become welcome, for the existence of a captive trapped motionless under chickenwire was an empty one. There was nothing for one to do but stare up at the roof and endure the discomforts. The simulation of her body became a welcome diversion. The vibrations deep within her would drive her into a nirvana separate from this world until she cummed. She gradually grew accustomed to cumming two or three times a day, until she was completely exhausted. She did not fail to realise that the zinc funnel also helped to drain away the cum that came out of her pussy.
With the lack of any free choice, the passing of days became a useless concept. Thus, her existence became formed around the cycle of feeding, cumming and pissing. The sheer monotony of this existence proved devastating to her mind. It did not take long for her to begin to lose her grip on her mind. Hallucinations became a constant companion for Batgirl, with faces from past and present floating into her mind.
And her captors pushed this process along when days into her confinement, they added an additional dimension to her torment. They came to her table with what looked like a pair of goggles. They inserted earphones into her ears, and placed the goggles over her eyes. They fitted snuggly over her face, blindfolding her. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, suddenly, Batgirl's ears would be flooded with heavy metal music, and images would start flashing in front of her eyes. The goggles were in fact a pair of screens, and no single image seemed to stay long enough for her mind to fully grasp what she was seeing. If she did, she would see that they were images of herself being degraded, images that were taken since the beginning of her captivity. In the same way, mixed into the heavy metal sound track pumped into her ears were subliminal messages abusing her, telling her how worthless she was, how she was a failure, and how she was nothing but a slut and a slave. All these were reinforced by the sudden coming to life of the sex toys within her and the current running through her nipples.
As expected, Batgirl's mind could not handle so much abusive stimuli being pumped into her so violently. Something would give sooner and later, and it was Batgirl's mind. Hours into her "treatment", she finally snapped, and began to scream and scream into her gag.
Chapter V
She shifted her position and leaned forward further to achieve a better angle for her mouth as she bobbed her head up and down on the shaft of flesh she was sucking off. She was dressed in only a heavy rubber corset, which constricted her trim waist into a very narrow 16", and pushed her breasts up and together to form a deep cleavage.
The effect was accentuated by the position she was in. Her legs, clad in shiny black rubber stockings held up by garters from the corset and topped off by a pair of six-inch high heels, were folded and strapped to a vertical chromed steel post. This steel post, in turn, was fitted to a low trolley so that she could be moved around to where she was needed.
Her body was bent forward towards the man in front her her. Her arms, encased in a bondage sleeve made of heavy black rubber vanished to a mirror shine, stretched back over her back. A snap hook at the end of the sleeve was attached to an eye-bolt at the tip of the post, helping to hold her torso up at an angle.
Her head was completely covered with the black rubber bondage helmet that cut off all sound and sight. Only her red painted mouth was left free to service the clients. Her bright red hair was tied into a neat long pony tail and emerged from a hole on the back of the helmet to snake down her back. The helmet itself had a pair of long pointed ears that looked like that of the bat, and it extended down all the way pass her neck in front, broadening out to form the cut-out shape of a bat just above her breasts.
What was her name? Batgirl? Barbara Gordon? It didn't seem to matter anymore. That part of her existence seemed so far away, so unreal that she wondered if it had actually happened at all. Perhaps it was some sort of hallucination. For all she knew, this was all she had ever been, a slave whose sole purpose for existence was to satisfy her owners. Then as quickly as these thoughts had formed, they slipped away from her mind. It was irrelevant to who she was, what she was now. She was what they wanted her to be.
A sudden flood of warm sticky liquid squirted into her mouth, and she almost chocked, but practice made perfect, and she reacted quickly enough lift her head off the rapidly shrinking penis and swallow some of the semen. She could feel the excess semen drip out of the left corner of her mouth. As she was trained to do, she stuck out her tongue and licked up the drips and swallowed. She was told that men would like that. She could feel the man in front of her get up and she raised her body upright and waited. Would she get another man today? Or would she be returned to storage?
After a while, she felt herself being moved, pushed along on her little trolley that they had strapped her to. She wondered how long she had been attached to the trolley. All she remembered was that when they had finally released her from her chickenwire prison, they had brought her to a white-tiled room to wash her down thoroughly. It was at the point when her captors had finally removed her cowl and what was left of her costume. She was to have a new costume, she had been told, something more befitting of what she was now. By then, the fact that her true identity had been unmasked no longer meant anything to her. She was their slave to whom they could do as they pleased. It did not matter if they knew who she truly was, for they now owned her completely.
Her captors had put her new costume on her, piece by piece. It took a while for the rubber was thick and rather inelastic, but she was surprised at how the material felt against her body and how it had smelled. Her hair had then been dressed by a woman clad entirely from head to toe in a latex catsuit, and the helmet was placed around her head. She had been in darkness and silence since, completely unaware of the passage of time, and completely dependent on her owners for even basic bodily function. Then, they had began training her in the art of satisfying men, beginning with how to use her mouth. She had lost count of the number of men she had serviced since then, but she had gotten rather good at it, being able to stiffen a man quickly, but play it out to extend the pleasure before he ejaculated.
They brought her to a stop, and she was unstrapped from the steel pole and stood up. She felt her legs parted beneath her, and knew what was to come. She was to be put into storage. The rubber butt-plug had already been lubricated, and she bent her knees and bent slightly forward to ease the passage of the large plug into her ass. The plug did not contain a vibrator. Instead, it was hollow, and designed to clear the content of her bowels. As she stood up with the plug in her, she could feel the tube leading away from the plug trailing under her, brushing against her leg. Her labia lips were parted and she felt the familiar feel of surgical tape being applied to keep them apart. Then a small plastic cup was placed against the part of her crotch where the orifice of her urethra was. Finally, the chastity belt that was to hold both these instruments in place was strapped around her hips.
Sometimes, when she had been good, she was rewarded with a dildo being inserted into her. This was not one of those times, and she felt a tinge of disappointment at that. Hadn't she done well? She wondered. The part of the chastity belt that had holes over her clitoris and her vagina mouth felt empty as she was pushed a few steps forward, still not being able to see and hear what was happening around her. She felt herself being made to kneel down, and leather straps were applied to her folded legs, keeping them spread open. The straps seemed to be attached to the floor, for she found that she could not move her legs once they were strapped. She was then pushed back so that she was laying back on her arms, with her legs spread open.
For a while, nothing seem to happen. Then she felt something being lowered down over her until she felt the warmth of a body pressed against hers. It was a woman's body, for she could feel her heavy breasts pressing against her stomach. Her head was raised up now until her face was pressed into the crotch of the woman. She could smell the musty smell of her vagina. A pair of straps was applied around her head keeping her pressed into the woman's crotch. She felt something being pressed into her own crotch, and realised that it was the woman's head. Almost immediately, she felt a wet tongue begin to explore her vagina. With a thrill, she understood what was happening, and extended her own tongue as well, exploring the tunnel that had been placed before her face.
Little did she know, or cared, that the woman suspended from a bondage harness above her was none other than catwoman, dressed in the same costume that she wore when she captured her.
Little did she know or cared that the pair of them were in the middle of a small theatre, and that dozens of eyes were watching their every move in a perverted performance.
All she knew was that, as the first orgasm hit her, she was - at last - at peace.