Barbara Gordon was just settling down on the fire escape of her cozy apartment in the fashionably run down Marina District of Gotham City. She had the third floor of the old brownstone all to herself. In any other city in the world a twenty-something librarian would never be able to afford to own her own building, much less one with such a great view of Short Island Sound. But, Babs was smart. She invested a small inheritance wisely and lived a frugal existence.
Picking up her glass of Chardonnay, she flipped open the pamphlet. She was just about to find out all there was to know about Robin's grim future, when she noticed the BatSignal. It was reflecting off the perpetual cloud that hung over Wayne Waste Management Corp. She climbed back in her apartment and closed the blind.
Going to the dressing bureau, she clicked the switch secreted behind the mirror. The bureau and wall spun around revealing her Batgirl dressing table. She stripped down completely, and pulled her chestnut red hair from the staid and practical bun of Barbara Gordon to flowing red locks of Batgirl. She pulled on the black hip-hugger lycra-spandex stirrup pants, followed by the short, purple ankle boots. The boots were a compromise of vanity and practicality. The short stiletto-heel reeked sexuality, but were not necessarily the best for motorcycles and hand to hand combat. She liked to vamp people out. The rest of the outfit was similar. The hip-huggers and the short, tight, sleeveless top looked great but left her midriff completely bare, although they gave great range of motion. The cowl gave most of her head protection but for esthetic reasons, she hadn't made it too heavy. The purple gloves went up to just below the elbow. Centered on her chest between her firm breasts was the insignia of the Bat.
Originally, the insignia was smaller and centered over one breast. But when she realized that not paying royalties annoyed the hell out of Batman, she made it much more visible. She had also added the insignia to her yellow titanium utility belt, which looped through her black hip-huggers. Unlike the clunky tool laden belt that Batman wore, hers had standard belt dimensions. She had been considerably more selective about what she felt was necessary than he. No Bat-shark repellent and a host of other usually useless items on her outfit.
After donning her cowl, checking that her appearance befit an officer of the law (that title annoyed everyone in the commissioner's office), she hopped on her massive, purple Harley-Davidson Batgirl-cycle and headed out of the building's secret exit. In seconds she was pulling up to city hall and bounding jauntily into her father's office.
"Hello Batgirl! Thanks for coming!" said Commissioner Gordon.
"No problem, Commissioner Gordon. What's up?" Barbara didn't like to spend too much time as Batgirl with her father, or in his office. She'd grown up there and always worried that someone would see through the costume. As Barbara, she did like to come by and visit still. She would lay on the big leather couch and read while her father would go about his business. They had been getting along a lot better the last few years. He wasn't so hard on her desire for police work, and she understood his fears about his only child working in such a dangerous profession.
"We just received this letter from the British government," he handed the paper across to her. Lady Penelope Peasoup has broken out of jail! Since Batman captured her and her brother Lord Phogg, they thought she might head this way."
"You may be right, Commissioner." Batgirl wasn't about to start a discussion of who captured whom. "Foiling their attempts to steal the Crown Jewels from the Tower of London hugely embarrassed them to the London underworld," she observed. Barbara scanned down the letter.
"Sir, this letter was dated six weeks ago!!"
"Yes, it was improperly sorted in the mail. I'm afraid the only thing we've done so far is send London a signed 8x10 glossy." Chief O'Hara chimed in, hoping to assuage some of the commissioner's embarrassment at having to explain the delay.
Batgirl scanned the letter carefully, hoping to glean more details.
"Chief O'Hara, would you mind if I took this letter for a while, I'd like to have a closer look at it."
Batgirl headed home. She didn't need a Batcomputer to analyze this one. She just wanted the phone number listed on top of the page, along with the name of Chief Superintendent Watson.
A quick call to Scotland Yard revealed that Lady Peasoup had escaped from Slutmore Prison. Disappearing in a mysterious fog, she spirited herself away from the prison grounds with the assistance of persons unknown. Scotland Yard later traced her to the luxury liner Queen Elizabeth. Hoping that Gotham officials could help, they had sent an urgent letter ahead via airmail.
So much for nipping this one in the bud, thought Barbara, as she dialed the Gotham Port Authority. She found out that someone fitting the description Penelope Peasoup had indeed disembarked from the Queen Elizabeth. She was traveling under the name Misty Haze. Another couple of phone calls revealed that customs had not released all of her luggage. A steamer trunk was still being held at the Gotham Custom House.
Barbara decided that she should have a look at what was in that steamer trunk, and the sooner the better. It was already after 10:00 PM and the docks would be nearly empty. Perfect for a nighttime reconnaissance.
She mounted her Batcycle and headed into the evening mist to the Gotham Custom House. Although the giant windscreen on the bike reduced the draft, the cold breeze still penetrated her thin costume and gave her goose bumps; she felt her nipples become erect under the fabric of her suit. She wasn't sure if the wind was causing that. The excitement of a new case was about as good an aphrodisiac as she knew. She always found herself extraordinarily horny when she was on a new or big case. Anticipation of the unexpected could make her juices flow at the most troubling times.
She thought back to the time only a few weeks ago when she was trying to track down Catwoman, who had purloined a set of Bengali tiger skin rugs from the Sultan of Bengali when he was visiting Gotham. Batgirl tracked her down to a lair beneath the PussyCat strip club. Batgirl waited until Catwoman's Kittens left to perform their acts in the club upstairs. Then, sneaking in through a basement window, she confronted Catwoman with the stolen goods.
Although Batgirl had the jump on Catwoman, the villainess had the home court advantage. She maneuvered Batgirl over a cleverly hidden trapdoor. Just as Batgirl was about to get the batcuffs on the feline felon, the floor dropped away beneath her. She fell a good ten feet before her fall was broken by a large net. As the net closed around her, Catwoman threw in one of her catnap bombs.
Barbara woke up to find herself lying on her side, elbows and hands tied behind her back, and her legs pulled back and tied to her wrists in a strict hog-tie. Standing around her were Catwoman and three of her kittens. Catwoman knelt down and ran her ebony-gloved hand over Batgirl's taut tummy. She let her long nails slide over her prisoner's midriff.
Batgirl could see that Catwoman was trying to decide what to do with her prize like a cat trying to decide whether to let the mouse run so the cat could enjoy another entertaining pounce or dine quickly.
"Our flying mouse has finished her catnap," Catwoman eyed Batgirl speculatively. "Purrrhaps we should place her as bait for a bigger catch!!! That might be entertaining," she mused. "But I doubt the dynamic dunderheads would be able to find her if we mailed them a map!!"
As she toyed with the helpless Batgirl, Catwoman noticed a damp spot forming in the purple crotch of her batsuit.
"So our mouse likes to play..." She traced her claw over the damp patch of Barbara's outfit. "Purrfect, she can be the first to test the legendary loving embrace of the Bengali Tiger Skin Death Trap. Kittens, let's make our guest as uncomfortable as possible."
Batgirl soon found herself released from her hogtie, but the wrist, elbow and ankle ropes remained in place. As Batgirl struggled against her bonds, Catwoman explained the trap's delicious simplicity. The Catwoman would lace up the tiger hide and enclose Batgirl completely inside. Then, as Batgirl struggled to escape, the specially treated hide and self tightening leather laces would slowly contract and crush Batgirl in their warm and furry grip. The Sultan of Bengali had been less than forthcoming in his description of the stolen skins. He had failed to mention that they were the Sultan's preferred method of divorce.
To make sure that Batgirl's demise would be timely, Catwoman inserted an electronic vibrator of her own design deep into Batgirl's snatch (the "Bat-snatch," she called it). The built-in motion detectors would detect whenever Batgirl stopped struggling and then give her pussy some electro-stimulation. The hot fur and the almost continuous activity of the dildo gave Catwoman a better show than she had planned. For over an hour she watched as Batgirl writhed inside the slowly constricting skin while undergoing one forced orgasm after another. Catwoman toyed with herself as she watched her sexually overwhelmed adversary's life squeezed out of her. For a while, she lay next to the bound heroine, feeling Batgirl's tired body quake with each progressively more deadly orgasm.
The trap was proving itself exquisitely effective, but also slower than Catwoman had planned. Seeing that it was getting late and that Batgirl was almost finished, Catwoman decided that video replay would have to be how she would view the end of Batgirl.
While Catwoman was engaged in her latest caper, Barbara had a run of luck. The battery in the dildo died, and one of the laces on the skin burst. It wasn't much of a break, but it was all she needed. Batgirl struggled out of the skin, thanking providence that Catwoman hadn't thought to replace the worn leather thongs on the death dealing antique bondage device.
Batgirl didn't catch Catwoman that time, but she did recover the tiger skins. Too bad the Sultan got them back shredded beyond repair. Batgirl learned a lot from that experience. First, purple is a bad choice for a super heroine costume if the heroine is easily aroused. Second, Catwoman knew how to make one mean dildo. Barbara kept that nasty (but beautiful) vibrator in a box under her bed as a souvenir.
The vibrations from the big bike rumbling between her thighs along with the mental picture of Catwoman toying with her bound body had created a cool damp patch in the crotch of her outfit.
She killed the ignition and let her Batgirl cycle coast the last block and a half to the customs house. There was only a sliver of moon illuminating the maze of piers and rail sidings. A low gray fog had completely enveloped the waterfront. She parked her bike behind a dumpster and used the saddle to climb up onto the lid. With her bat-a-rang and bat-rope she was able to quietly scale the side of the building and entered through a fourth floor window.
The custom house was like most other Gotham municipal buildings: dark, poorly organized and inefficient. Batgirl quickly decided that it was just luck that customs still had Lady Penelope's trunk. They just hadn't gotten around to releasing it. After searching about for about half an hour, the trunk turned up in a claim area. It had been incorrectly labeled as containing agricultural products.
Batgirl carefully inspected the outside of the trunk for signs of booby traps. She wasn't expecting to find any. If Lady Peasoup wanted to bring contraband to Gotham, she would use camouflage to do it. Using a set of custom picks from her utility belt, Barbara started on the lock. It wasn't at all sophisticated and she popped it open in seconds. She leaned away as she opened the lid, just in case.
The heavy box was filled with books, arranged neatly in rows. The spine of all the books proclaimed themselves as "The King James Bible" in leather and gold leaf. Great, thought Barbara, Gotham Customs strikes again! That's why Penelope Peasoup hasn't bothered to collect them, they aren't hers.
For completeness, Batgirl fished out one of the tomes and felt the bottom of the trunk. No false bottoms. She then started to look at the book. It was new and beautifully bound. Then she noticed the paper. Instead of the high quality parchment that is normally associated with quality leather, the pages were printed on impregnated pages often used for illustrated textbooks.
She flipped open the cover. On the title page was "The Gospel According To Penelope, Forward by Phineas Phogg." Below was written "Vol. II: Locks and Alarms, a Primer." Intrigued, Barbara picked up another volume. It was titled "Vol. III: The Arts of Assassination." For each volume there were several copies. Each was designed to be educational material on criminal enterprise. Leafing through the books, Barbara found one last volume labeled "Vol. VI: Booby Traps and Security." She flipped open the book and a noxious blue fog shot into her face and made her head swim. She vaguely realized she was falling, but didn't remember hitting the floor.
Barbara's head throbbed surprisingly little for such a potent knock-out gas. She lay still for a few moments, waiting for her vision to clear. She looked straight ahead. The only thing in her line of vision was a pair of flat-heeled brown leather riding boots.
"Hurry up with that trunk, girls! We can't expect this lovely fog to last forever! May! June! If you drop that you'll each spend a day in the corner!" Barbara recognized the voice of Lady Penelope Peasoup.
"Ah, Batgirl! So good of you to drop in and join us for a brief, I assure you, a very brief, visit. I was beginning to think we wouldn't have you coming around before tea time!" She bent down to look at her captive. "Sorry to have to make you so uncomfortable, but I can't have you meddling about. It would undermine the whole educational experience."
"Mmmpphh!!" was all that Batgirl could muster, discovering to her dismay that her arms were tied securely behind her at the wrists and elbows. Her legs were also bound above the knees and at the ankles. Multiple strips of wide adhesive tape plastered her face from nose to chin muffled all her protests. She could feel a large wad of tape wedged into her mouth behind her teeth. Wow, she thought, what a mouthful.
Penelope Peasoup crouched down beside her adversary. "I would so dearly love to dispose of you in a much more leisurely fashion. But, it was just my ill luck that your path crossed mine so soon." She rolled her captive over.
Barbara got her first look at Lady Peasoup now standing up over her. She was wearing her trademark brown tweed. The skirt was on the shortish side, exposing more of her thigh than it covered. Beige hose covered the open patch of leg between the top of her polished brown riding boots and the edge of her skirt. Her pronounced bosom pushed the lapels of her tweed jacket apart, exposing a white blouse with a stern looking ascot. To round out the country estate look, she was fondling a riding crop. Her narrow face had high cheekbones. And her long straight dirty blonde hair was held in a loose ponytail. Batgirl had always thought that Lady Penelope was quite attractive despite her rather sharp features.
Two girls returned from outside as Lady Penelope stood up. They were quite young for hoods, perhaps only nineteen or twenty. They each wore an outfit similar to their mistress except that they each wore a trilby hat. To say the least, they both appeared quite fit, and quite cute in a girlish sort of way. When they entered they lined up next to their leader.
"Girls, when faced with the unexpected, what is the first rule of engagement?" Lady Penelope marched in front of her two charges, patting her hand with the riding crop.
"Evaluate resources and terrain," they announced in unison.
"Good! May, evaluate the terrain."
"We are located on the ground floor of the Gotham Customs House, located on Pier 69 of Gotham Harbor. There are three routes of access to the pier: water, driveway, and a standard gauge rail spur. It is 3:50 AM. There is a heavy ground fog that will probably last another hour or so."
"Very good. June, evaluate resources."
"We have recovered our objective and have a single captive, however we have insufficient transport for both." June stood smartly at attention. She looked down for a moment and smirked slightly at the bound and gagged crimefighter.
"Very succinct, June. I think that covers the main issues."
Lady Penelope rolled Batgirl back onto her tummy and placed the toe of her boot square in the middle of the bound heroine's head and ground Batgirl's face into the floor. "As you may realize, Batgirl, besides getting rid of you on general principle, I have a score to settle with you. So, the question is, how do I do that on such short notice?"
She turned her attention back to May and June. "Girls, what would you suggest?"
"The water at the end of the pier is more than five meters deep!" June's eyes glowed. "The warehouse contains sufficient resources for us to forage additional rope and suitable weights to attach to the captive. The body would remain undiscovered for quite some time."
May, not wanting to be left out of the process, piped up, "I suggest we put the captive in the trunk which contained our books, lock it, place sufficient charges around it and set a short fuse. If we open a gas valve, the blast will appear to be a natural gas explosion."
"Both are very good suggestions, but a little too quick for my taste. And for such an auspicious foe, I think we need something with a little more flair, a touch of style." She moved her toe down Batgirl's body. The tip of her boot stopped just as it reached the edge of the Batgirl's firm buttocks.
"Yes, a stylish exit for our damsel in distress..." Her foot absently massaged Batgirl's shapely bottom.
"Hmmm... A damsel in distress... yes.... that gives me an idea. June, when does the next train come by?" An evil smile ran across her Lady Penelope's face.
June recited in a schoolgirl's voice, "There's a coal train heading to the Wayne Foundation Trade School and Iron Works at 4:20. The next train to head this way after that is a commuter train at 5:50."
"Perfect! Yes, indeed. Our poor, heroic damsel, bound, gagged, and left to struggle on the railroad tracks with no hope of escape as the speeding train barrels down upon her." Lady Penelope's hand slid up and down over the tweed crotch of her skirt. "Yes, I think that will do very nicely!" Her hand lingered a few moments longer as she savored the idea.
"June, I want you to get that extra rope you mentioned and the black bag from the boot of our sedan." With a wave of Lady Penelope's hand, June scurried off. "May, get the bolt cutters from over there and go out to the siding switch. Cut free the switch to divert the train onto the sidetrack. Now hurry!!"
After watching her assistants leave, Lady Penelope again knelt down and straddled the bound figure of the helpless Batgirl. "Such lovely girls. So eager with their ideas. But I thought it would be such a waste to hurry your final dispatch, good as my apprentices' suggestion are. I'm sure this will be a suitably grand, classic exit for a classic beauty!" She touched the side of Barbara's face and traced her hand over her the fine contours. Barbara struggled and kicked ineffectually beneath the coils of rope embracing her in their tight grip.
"Such pretty eyes, I wonder who you are beneath the cowl?" Lady Penelope mused. "But the symbolism of it is just to perfect to despoil by peeking." Barbara stopped struggling at this.
"You don't get it do you? The symbolism of destroying an anonymous symbol of law and order?" Lady Penelope mocked her in a slightly exasperated tone. Batgirl's failure to see the point was spoiling her plan. "Why hasn't anyone ever taken your cowl off? Because, if they did then you become merely a person in a ridiculous costume. But with it you are the feminine ideal of virtue and beauty. It's a lot more fun to defile icons of virtue and beauty."
Her hand slid down Barbara's neck to her shoulder. She caressed Barbara's well-sculpted muscles gently and moved her hand onto the lycra covered breast of her captive. "You would have made such a wonderful teaching aid at my new school, 'Lady Peasoup's Crime School For Girls.' My students could have learned so much from you! They built a wonderful new contraption that combines the simplicity of a clock work motor and some lovely toys. It would have been quite enjoyable see how it works on a real live superheroine! Perhaps we can 'persuade' Mary Marvel to 'volunteer' and join us for a demonstration. Yes, that sounds quite nice."
Lady Penelope then enthralled herself while she waited for her apprentices with visions of poor Mary Marvel struggling helplessly in tight bondage as the simple pendulum motor did its nasty work on her. She was still massaging Barbara's breast with one hand as she ran the shaft of her riding crop under her skirt. From her vantage point on the ground, Barbara could see the leather tip of the whip pushing against the dark fabric of the villainous Englishwoman's pink knickers
Slowly, Penelope's hand started to migrate down across the open midriff of the captive heroine. It ran down past her yellow titanium Batgirl utility belt until it reached the damp patch of fabric over Batgirl's snatch. Barbara's struggles took on a more rhythmic tone as Penelope stroked her.
"Well, I do believe that our captive is enjoying this little dance with danger!" She continued to stroke her bound prisoner's soaking crotch. Barbara slowly arched her back as her body quivered in near orgasm. Lady Penelope's fingers pressed hard onto the mons pubis as she watched her captive gasping through the thick gag. Penelope dropped her riding crop and pressed her hand up her skirt and beneath her knickers and she brought them off in a communal orgasm.
While this was going on the two students returned from their assigned tasks. May had the coil of rope and a black gym bag that looked almost empty.
"Let's get dear, soon to be departed, Batgirl outside, girls."
Barbara struggled and kicked mightily, but she was far to well bound to impede her three captors very much. They soon had her bundled outside to the track siding. Batgirl groaned and butted her head uselessly as she tried in vain to hinder their progress. At Lady Penelope's instruction, the two younger women roped Batgirl's bound ankles to her wrists. Once they succeeded at this, Barbara's struggles became irrelevant.
First June, and then May tried to remove Batgirl's utility belt, but the titanium buckle was protected by a Chinese puzzle lock. Lady Penelope took out a switchblade and slit the crotch of Batgirl's lycra suit. "That will do just dandily," she said as she put away the blade.
She picked up the black bag and pulled out a polished black wooden rod about two feet long. Dangling from one end was a beautifully chromed nine-inch knobbed vibrator.
"This is what I call my 'Dick Stick.'" Lady Peasoup ran her hand along the cold metal surface of the dildo. "I keep it around just in case a pesky superheroine drops by unexpectedly. It's fully charged and ready to go." She smiled as she twisted the end of the toy to the "on" position. It whirred to life, visibly shaking in her hand. She turned it off.
At first Barbara didn't understand the purpose of Penelope's contraption. The function of the stick was a mystery. Barbara was soon enlightened. After a valiant struggle, Penelope and her gang succeeded in filling the hapless damsel's tight chamber with the vicious vibrator and tied the other end of the Dick Stick to Batgirl's ankles. The result was that as Batgirl struggled, the vibrator moved around inside her pussy. But there wasn't enough play in the hog-tied ropes drawn between her wrist and ankle bondage to allow her pull it out. The effect on the captive was total.
"That should keep you both entertained and distracted for your foreseeable future, my dear. Which should be for about another twenty minutes." Lady Peasoup grabbed the wooden part of the Dick Stick and felt the vibrations through her hand with wry satisfaction. "Girls, I'll meet you back at the car. I'd like to have a few final moments with the lovely, but soon to be late, Batgirl." She smiled down almost sympathetically at the bound beauty on the railroad tracks.
"Aaahhh, so is this is how it ends?" Penelope asked rhetorically. "The dastardly death of the bothersome Batgirl at the hands of a villainous vixen!" Her hand stroked the vibrating shaft of wood. Batgirl was barely able to pay attention as her struggles did nothing but maneuver the humming sex toy through the confines of her bound sex. Her throat rested on the cold, dew covered steel of the railroad track as Penelope continued rapturously.
"And what a wonderful demise it will be, too! You'll struggle in the throes of orgasm looking down the tracks as the oncoming train rushes in! The screech of the brakes! The shrill of its horn!" She now had one hand stroking her own pussy and the other on warm metal of the vibrator as it disappeared between the lips of Batgirl's pussy. She let the electric motor's hum provide the friction as her fingers brought Batgirl to another climax. She watched intently as the heroine clenched and wriggled, inundated with sensation. Seeing her victim racked by orgasm, Lady Penelope drove herself to her own orgasm in a last ritual of communion.
"You were a most entertaining adversary, both here and in London. But, my sweet, it is time to say good-bye. I bid you a fond adieu!" She leaned over and gave Barbara a final lingering kiss on the exposed skin of her cheek. Lady Peasoup stood up and walked away to join her students. Just before she disappeared into the fog, she turned around, and looked back at the struggles of the doomed heroine. Poor Batgirl was in the throes of another shuddering orgasm. Penelope got into her black sedan and drove away satisfied that the nettlesome nuisance known as Batgirl was nearly no more.
Batgirl closed her eyes after watching Lady Peasoup disappear into the predawn fog. The cold steel of the iron rail pressed against her slender throat. She tried to scream through the gag to no avail. Her cries for help were totally useless. The huge wad of tape packed into her mouth and taped over muffled all sound within just a few feet. She knew that there wasn't anyone to hear them anyway.
She struggled and kicked at her bonds. If she pushed out hard with her feet, the 'Dick Stick' would pull the buzzing dildo about halfway out of her pussy. Unfortunately, the farther the dildo came out, the more intense the sensation became. Its operational speed seemed to be controlled by the depth of penetration. Worse, as it came out it tended to press harder at the front of her pussy, digging into her G-spot. She couldn't get the little beast all the way out anyway, so Barbara allowed the dildo to slide back into her body.
As the knobby metal toy slid back inside her, Barbara let out a muffled groan and again shuddered in orgasm. It was her third in what seemed as many minutes. If this was the fate that Penelope Peasoup had designed, then Barbara was sure to be dead long before the train got to her, done in and drained by the deadly dildo.
She tried pulling with her bound wrists. Not surprisingly, the dildo pushed deeper inside. She could feel the back of her wrists brush her utility belt. She relaxed, letting the vibrator slide out to a more comfortable position. She let her hips grind slowly, lost in the sensation of sexual bliss and bondage.
The rope work was expertly tight. Not tight enough to cut off blood flow, but plenty tight when it came to range of motion. Barbara wasn't able to do much beyond wriggling uselessly, repositioning the vibrator in her sex. She couldn't even roll off her stomach or stop her head from resting on the cold, dew covered rail like a head on a chopping block.
She lay there, lost in a twilight of fatigue and ceaseless orgasm. She unclenched her fists, and let her hand slide on the smooth rope connecting her bound wrists to her ankles. She felt the rope briefly, lost in a dream, with out realizing the significance of it. IT WAS SMOOTH!!!
Barbara's brain clicked back to reality instantly. The rope was smooth, which meant that it was most likely nylon! She struggled to get a better grip on the rope. She was feeling it through the material of her gloves and was sure she was probably mistaken.
With some effort she was able gab the length of rope. It was good quality half-inch triple-ply rope. It felt new, but most importantly it felt like nylon.
Barbara was just starting to formulate a strategy when she felt an almost imperceptible vibration coming through her cheek. She knew what it was immediately. It was the 4:20 headed for the Wayne Foundation Trade School and Iron Works. It was still a way off, but Batgirl knew that the clock was ticking. It was about four or so when Lady Penelope had left her to be sliced to bits by the train, and the Wayne Works was notorious for meeting deadlines at all costs. That meant that Barbara only had perhaps five or ten minutes before the train crashed down the siding into Gotham Harbor and dispatched her.
She pulled and jerked her body with all her might as she fought to roll onto her back. Using her head, she pushed herself up so that her back was arched enough so that she was able to work herself on to her back. Each movement of her body sent the tip of the Dick Stick probing into new and untapped regions of her stretched vagina. Her desperate attempts were met with demonically intense orgasms pounding through her loins. She was sweating profusely despite the cool night air. The droplets glistened under the dim sodium lamps of the yard.
After what seemed to be an eternity, she found herself precariously balanced on her back. Her body was arched into the air as she tried to avoid toppling back onto her side. The sharp heels of her boots were dug into the loose gravel of the track bed while the top of her cowl was pressed against the rail tie just outside the rail. She could feel the vibrations of the approaching train rumbling through the back of her neck.
Resting for a moment, she glanced up the track as it disappeared into the fog. She suddenly had a terrible realization that her long supple neck was laying exposed across the rail like a scrap of paper in a scissors.
She solidified her resolve not to succumb quietly to her captor's deathtrap. She was still alive, and she wasn't about to let a second string villain get bragging rights to the demise of Batgirl.
The next phase of her plan was much harder than the first. She had to reach her Batgirl utility belt. To do that meant that she was going to have to pull her bound wrists up her back. The hog tie that she was in was fairly strict, but Lady Peasoup hadn't discounted the erotic element of her squirming captive. She had allowed Barbara enough slack so that as fought for freedom the dildo would grind her into sexual oblivion. But to access her utility belt she needed bring the vibrator impossibly far into her body. At least, she thought, the damnable thing isn't so violent when it's deeper in.
Barbara closed her eyes as she slowly walked her bound feet back. Every inch of slack in her hog-tie was paid for with another inch of vibrating metal. She pulled at her wrists and could feel her hands moving slowly up her rump towards the small streamlined capsule on her utility belt. She occasionally halted the painstaking process when another orgasm would run a shudder through her body.
Finally, she could feel the capsule with the back of her thumb. But she could also feel the textured metal on the hilt of the dildo touching the lips of her pussy. She knew she only had another inch or two to go, but the rough touch of metal pressed hard against her pubis was not what she needed. The orgasm could only be described as paralyzing. She could not move the stick further. Her body trembled, but she was unwilling to surrender the progress she had made. There would be no second chances.
Eventually the aching, intense passion started to clear from her loins. As her awareness returned, she discovered by that some miracle that she hadn't toppled over. She was still precariously balanced between her head and heels.
Barbara lost no time in trying to grab the back of her utility belt. She had to maneuver the vibrator another inch into her pussy, but she was desperate. The rumblings of the train were slowly transforming from a sensation to an audible hum.
Barbara fought on heedless to the painfully deep penetration. She hooked the tip of her thumb over the tab on her belt. She heard a light pop as the tiny ampoule snapped open and sprayed the highly concentrated oxidant out. She hadn't intended this method of escape to be fast acting. Originally the idea was to weaken any synthetic bonds over a long period, while being transported as a captive, for example. But she hadn't field tested it yet and was optimistic that anything was better than just lying there waiting to be sliced and diced by the train.
Once the capsule had expended itself, Barbara tipped back over on her side. She badly needed relief from the throbbing pain of the 'Dick Stick.' She extended her feet out until the 'Dick Stick' had reached a point of equilibrium that caused the least amount of discomfort. Working her wrists back and forth, Barbara tried to get as much of the solvent as she could to work into the synthetic fibers. Her plan centered on the rapid oxidation of the polymers in the rope into smaller fragments, hopefully making it weak enough to break.
She kept working at her bonds. The sound of the approaching coal train was clearly audible and punctuated with the screech of its horn. As Barbara worked feverishly at the ropes thoughts raced through her mind. She was back on her stomach basically back in her in her starting position. Facing the approaching train, her head laying across the rail. She wondered if the girl who had been sent to redirect the train had done it correctly. Perhaps she hadn't. The train might just rumble on to its filthy destination with out ever knowing the drama of this struggling young woman, bound and gagged and tied across this dark remote siding.
Not bloody likely! Barbara had seen rail switches. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how to operate them. If you could get it to move at all, you could do it. Those girls with Lady Penelope looked at least that smart.
Closing her eyes and bracing for the sudden change in attitude of the Dick Stick, Barbara started to kick out with bound feet. The dildo came about three-quarters of the way out, but ropes didn't budge. She pulled her feet back again, driving the dildo back into her pussy. The metal body slid smoothly into her body. Immediately she kicked out again, straining at the limits of her hog-tie. The ropes groaned slightly as used what little leverage she had to push the bonds.
She repeated this four or five times before she opened her eyes. Barbara was groaning into her gag as she repeatedly penetrated herself with the vibrator. She had been oblivious to her surrounding as she struggled to break free. The first thing she saw as she looked up the tracks was a small yellow dot that hadn't been there before. She kicked wildly at her bonds once she recognized that the dot was the lamp of the approaching train! She pushed and kicked desperately as the horn roared in her ears. The tracks seemed alive with screeches and quakes as the seldom used siding groaned under the weight of the hundred ton coal train. Barbara knew that regardless of whether or not the train crew saw her or not, it would never stop in time to save her.
Her muffled screams were totally obliterated as the screech of the train's brakes and the wail of its horn signaled that the crew had discovered that they had been diverted down the siding. Barbara looked into the now looming lamp. The giant black form of the first of several engines formed behind it. She kicked even harder, oblivious to the actions of the dildo.
Suddenly her feet kicked straight out, the dildo disappearing from between her legs. Without a second to lose she pushed and rolled herself from between the rails. She immediately felt the rush of wind, the roaring draft as the train screamed by. Barbara tucked into a ball as the shrieking brakes showered sparks over her as they went towards the end of the quay.
Barbara stayed curled up like that shaking in fear and relief, even after the explosive crashes and din had subsided. When at last she peeked up she saw that she was lying in the shadow of one of the massive coal cars. Her ankles, knees, and elbows were still bound, but she didn't care. She was still alive. Her body was weak and shaking with excitement.
She looked down the track and saw a group of three men approaching. They were stumbling along like a pack of drunken sailors. Barbara could see that they were soaking wet. They must be the train crew, she thought. She immediately looked around for someplace to hide. Thinking quickly she rolled back under the now silent train. She wasn't sure if they had seen her on the track and wasn't interested in being found bound, gagged and crotchless by a group of very upset rail workers.
The fact that they were walking away from the water was a good sign. It meant that no one had been killed in the wreck. If somebody had died, they probably would have stayed by the water. As they walked slowly back towards the main line, Barbara was able to hear enough of their conversation to confirm that nobody had been hurt and that they hadn't any idea that she was there.
Thank God, she thought.
Batgirl lay under the train and waited patiently for the voices of the train crew to fade. She needed a moment to relax and compose herself. She knew that the police would start showing up in fifteen or twenty minutes, after the train crew found a working phone.
Her body was still quivering from the excitement of the adventure. As she slowly started to work at the ropes again, Barbara visualized how the scene of her tied in Penelope's tight bondage, wriggling on the train tracks, must have looked. Working herself loose was slow work. To occupy her mind as she methodically worked the ropes she ran the experience through her mind, visualizing herself from different vantage points. She imagined how she probably looked as Penelope Peasoup toyed with her as she lay helpless on the tracks. Then she took the perspective of the giant locomotive rumbling down the track, approaching the helpless crime fighter as she raced against time to escape.
As Barbara worked at her the bonds, she reached around and started to finger herself. The skin of pussy was very tender from the ravages of the Dick Stick. Barbara didn't mind, the slight pain only reminded her of the closeness of her call and the diabolical sensations of that she had just suffered through. She brought herself to orgasm almost immediately. Barbara resumed her efforts to extricate herself from the web of knots that Lady Penelope had created. Barbara was impressed with the quality of rope work that had been incorporated into her bondage. She had never seen work this sophisticated before, except possibly from Catwoman. But she lived for bondage. Catwoman would often do kidnappings just to test new toys, and would even try her deadly arts on her compatriots if they displeased her.
Finally, after a lot of work, Batgirl was able to free herself. She could already hear the wail of the approaching police and fire trucks. Once her hands were free she dispensed with the yards of ropes. She used the small knife in her belt to cut the rest of her bonds.
As soon as she was free, she collected what little evidence there was that she had been there and headed back to where she had hidden her Batgirl cycle. The big Harley wheeled out on to the main road just as the first police cars came into view. Barbara hadn't turned on her lights, so she simply gunned the engine of the big bike and headed off towards home.
As she re-entered her apartment through its secret entrance, Charley, her Parrot, eyed her suspiciously. "Don't say a word! I've had a tough night!" She looked at her self in the vanity's mirror. She was caked in sweat and soot from rolling around in the train bed. Her black hip-huggers were a total loss. The hole that Lady Penelope had made had spread so that she looked like she was wearing stockings and a garter belt. Charley let out a long whistle.
"I think I'm starting to regret teaching you that trick, Charley."
"Oh, God, Ohhh, God, Stop it, Catwoman! I can't take another orgasm! Braaack!"
"And I think I'll put your cage somewhere other than the bedroom." She eyed the little bird, wondering how he'd taste broiled with lemon.
"Braaaack!" He squawked, returning to his chew toy (a small headless Batman action figure).
Barbara stripped down and drew a bath. She walked back to the vanity where she left Lady Penelope's Dick Stick. She looked at the attached vibrator. She wiped it off with a towel. Towards the base she saw the manufacturer's stamp.
"Another fine product of Genital Electric."
Hmmm, thought Barbara, that was one of Pinky Pinkston's companies. She mooned for a moment over her lost love. She and Pinky had been quite the hot and heavy a couple of years ago. Back when Barbara was still in college and Bruce Wayne hadn't forced Pinky to file Chapter 11.
Bruce had been trying to get into Pinky's panties on and off for a couple of years. He was never much on dropped hints, including his uninvited interruption of Barbara and Pinky getting it on in Pinky's Jacuzzi. When he finally did get the hint (a court order prohibiting him from contacting her), he dumped all the Pinkston Enterprises stock that he had quietly bought. The overall market dropped almost a hundred points and Pinky was ruined.
Barbara looked closely at the dildo. It was the kind of quality device that Pinky prided her company on. Beautiful craftsmanship and stylishly designed, this was a product that would have taken the market by storm. If, of course, the company had lasted.
Barbara continued to examine the vibrator, reminiscing about the lessons she learned under the soft touch of the beautiful industrialist. Then she stopped. At first she didn't know, but then it dawned on her: There was no model number on the case. Nor was there any certification from the Underwriter's Laboratory.
This was a prototype!!
Barbara knew Pinky far too well to think that she would have any unsavory business dealings with unsavory characters. But how did Lady Penelope get hold of one Pinky's prototype dildos?
Barbara tossed Penelope Peasoup's Dick Stick under her bed with the rest of her collection, and headed for her now full bubble bath. As she lowered her sore body into the steaming tub, she tried to make sense of this latest development.
Pinky had left town over a year ago to try re-establishing her business elsewhere. As far as Barbara knew the Pinkston holdings were still dormant and the factories and warehouses were closed up. Lady Penelope could be hiding in any one of them.
But, Barbara mused, Lady Penelope fancies herself as part of the nobility. She would never cotton to the usual method of Gotham villains, using grimy old factories for her hideout. No, if she wants to play at being schoolmistress, she'll find something that has the air of an English public school.
Barbara let her body slide down into the soft lather of bubbles. The moment of danger was past and she wanted to loose herself in the suds and mull over her next move. She ran the bar soap over her body, around her breasts as they buoyed lightly in the soapy water. She ran it down her body, cleansing her spirit of her narrow escape from Lady Penelope.
Her thoughts moved back to the carefree day days she spent at Pinkston Palisades, Pinky's palatial place on a bluff overlooking Short Island Sound. The bar of soap moved over her thighs as she thought of the new experiences that Pinky had opened her up to. She fingered herself for a while and enjoyed the type of pleasant orgasm only fond memories could engender.
Lolling in her bath, still enjoying the thoughts of her past, it came to her.
Pinkston Palisades!!!!
Pinky often worked at home, and Genital Electric was just the type of R&D Pinky liked best. It also fit perfectly with Lady Penelope's needs. It was a large country estate, with a grand house in a secluded part of Gotham. It even gave her heavy the heavy fogs of Short Island Sound. Pinky had left the place completely furnished and Penelope Peasoup could have found any number of things like the vibrator there.
Barbara didn't waste a moment, she was out of the tub and toweling herself off in moments. This was a hot lead and, if she hurried, she might be able to get the drop on Lady Penelope and her gang before they realized that their little trap on the train tracks had failed.
It was almost nine by the time Batgirl was wheeling her way towards Pinky Palisades. The morning fog had mostly burned off as she roared up the deserted Shore Drive. Barbara felt energized, riding in the warm sun. It was turning into a beautiful day, she had cheated death again, and she was sure to get the drop on the bad guys!
She pulled off the main road and headed cross-country for the Pinkston family home. The big purple Harley wasn't at all suited to motocross, but Barbara enjoyed the physicality of keeping the big bike going.
Eventually, she came to the high brick and stucco wall that surrounded Pinkston Palisades. Barbara hid her Batgirl-cycle in the brush and quickly scaled the wall.
Barbara jumped down onto the well-manicured grounds of Pinkston Palisades. Crouching low behind a tree, she surveyed the area. The grounds were still in the pristine condition that Pinky had always kept them in. The realtors must be footing the bill to keep the place salable, Barbara thought. The house was one of those vast stone manors built in the thirties when unemployed masons were cheap and plentiful.
Barbara sprinted across the vast expanse of lawn towards the main house. She arrived at the ivy-covered walls and surveyed possible points of entry. The ground floor was out of the question. Pinky had always been a security freak, and Bruce Wayne, who lived down the road, had always given her the willies. So the best thing to do was start at the top and work her way around the building. With fifty odd rooms, Barbara thought she would eventually find an unlocked window or broken latch.
The ivy made for an easy, uneventful climb. Reaching the top, she started to make her way around the build. She made her way around the building, peering in through the windows, careful to avoid detection.
After covering most of the third floor, Barbara came to a small turret room on the northwestern corner of the building. She peered through the glass pane. It was dirty and etched from the years of weather. Barbara wiped at the glass with her gloves. With effort she could see what looked like giant oak chair set in the middle of the small room. She almost moved on when she realized that something was moving in the seat. She looked harder.
Yes, she could definitely see it now, there was someone sitting in the chair. They seemed to be trying to wiggle, rather unsuccessfully, out of the chair. From the size and proportions, Barbara was certain that the person was a woman. Barbara continued to watch the scene. She quickly realized that whoever it was either strapped or tied to the massive chair.
So, thought Barbara, Penelope Peasoup has taken up kidnapping in addition to her new role in criminal education!! Barbara hadn't seen any routes of easy entrance, and there was somebody in need of help on the other side of this window. She couldn't leave her there in the clutches of that fiend.
Barbara grabbed the rain gutter above the window and jumped up and out, she planted her feet on the center of the window frame and crashed through. She landed squarely in the middle of the room amidst a shower of broken glass.
The young woman tied in the chair scrunched into a ball as the shards of window pain crashed on the floor. She was a petit little blonde perhaps only twenty and barely five feet tall. Her long hair had been braided into pigtails and she was dressed in white cotton blouse and a tailored navy blue skirt. Her arms and wrists were bound behind with broad black rubber straps. Similar straps ran across her chest just above and below her breasts, pushing them out in a somewhat unnatural fashion. The same strapping also bound her knees and ankles. The ends of the strapping on her knees were secured to the top of one chair leg, while her bound ankles were tied diagonally to the bottom of the opposing leg. A broad piece of black rubber went around her face from her nose to her chin, muffling her pleas. A studded collar anchored her neck to the hard wood back of the chair.
The bondage was tight, but it didn't look like Lady Penelope had set it up with any of her usual diabolical snuff toys. Barbara ran to the girl and started to undo the strapping on her wrists. "Look we have to hurry, do you think you can climb down the ivy?"
The girl nodded feverishly as Batgirl freed her from the constricting straps. As she unbuckled strap after strap, Barbara surveyed the room. It was unfinished and almost empty. Aside from the massive oak chair, there was only a small wood table with a stool and simple tea service. The guard must have gone out for a moment.
"What's your name?" Barbara asked as she removed the gag from her mouth.
"April," the girl gasped. "Thank God, you found me!! You've saved me from a terrible ordeal."
"Let's get out of here before Lady Penelope finds out you're loose." Barbara finished undoing the last of the girl's straps.
Batgirl moved back towards the window taking her bat-a-rang from her utility belt as she went. An unbidden thought stirred---May, June...April???? She was too pre-occupied with the problem of trying to get herself and her rescued hostage out of Pinkston Palisades and the little warning bell going off in her head about the trio of names, so Batgirl did not see April pick up a tea pot. She was just starting to turn back around when the bone china pot exploded against her head and sent crashing unconscious to the floor.
HOLY BONDAGE BABES!!!! BATGIRL BLINDSIDED BY A BUXOM BLONDE!!!! WHAT INSIDIOUS LESSONS HAS PENELOPE PEASOUP TAUGHT THIS NASTY NYMPH!!!!!!
FIND OUT IN THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF BATGIRL VS THE CRIME SCHOOL FOR GIRLS!!!!!
When Barbara stirred from unconsciousness, she had fleeting memories of her love making sessions with her old flame, Pinky Pinkston. At first she didn't know why. Her thoughts were all a jumble. Eventually, she realized that she was working on a case as Batgirl. But the details were fuzzy. Her aching head wasn't able to focus on her surroundings, but they had a vague familiarity to them. She closed her eyes to stop the swimming sensation that was overwhelming her.
Sucking air into her lungs, she opened her eyes and looked out on the familiar surroundings of Pinky's Parlor. The lavish decor was much the same as Pinky had left it. Like the outside of the building the parlor was the epitome of English country living, dark, heavy wood panels, towering windows with thick red velvet drapes and tied back with thick gold cords.
Lounging on a red divan was Lady Penelope Peasoup, dress in a brown tweed jacket and a dark tweed riding slacks with polished black riding boots. She was slowly fondling her riding crop as she watched her captive come round.
"You missed your train, Batgirl. Or rather the train missed you." She smiled an evilly benign smile. "You'd make lovely kindling, my dear." She gently flexed her swagger stick.
Barbara realized that the reason she didn't recognize the room immediately was her perspective. Lady Penelope had tied her to a massive a log in the center of the immense fireplace. She pulled at her wrists, she could feel that they were bound with the one of the heavy gold sashes. As before, Lady Penelope's rope work was impeccable. Barbara looked around, trying hard to hide her panic. She was lying bound to one of the three large logs in the midst of a very medieval looking hearth. It was twelve feet wide and over eight feet high. She was bound in an intricate lace work of gold sash cords. Binding her ankles, knees and waist to one of the three large logs. The gold cords securely framed her breasts and a loop of sash was double coiled around her neck.
"Yes, that would be most interesting. 'Batgirl flambe.' I wager that you'd make a wonderful snap-crackle-pop." She rubbed her neck with the leather flat of the small whip. "April was quite happy to see you. She was supposed to spend a full day in the discipline corner as penance for losing my textbooks in customs.
Barbara discreetly started testing her bonds. At first, she gently tugged at her wrists, then tried pulling at the ropes pinning her ankles. The more she pulled, the more inescapable the rope work seemed. Before she knew it, she was focusing all her efforts into the diabolic web of rope.
"That's right Batgirl, pull! Struggle hard!" She was rubbing the butt of her riding of riding crop over the crotch of her pants. She raised one boot and placed it on the divan spreading her legs wide. Barbara could see the knuckles of Lady Penelope's hand becoming white as she gripped the stick and forced it into dark reaches beneath her skirt.
"Yes! I could easily set you to flames. But that would be no fun at all! Do you feel the ropes getting tighter my dear? I tied you with a wonderful combination of self-tightening slipknots. The more you struggle the tighter the ropes will pull."
Barbara could already feel the rope around her neck pulling her head back to the log. The rest of the ropes that secured her to the log had also lost much of their play. Barbara stopped her struggles.
"You'll never get away with this, Lady Penelope." Barbara kept gently testing the ropes as she talked, not wanting to give up the possibility of quick escape.
"As if I've never heard that cliche before." Penelope he smiled down at the web of ropes, knowing their many diabolical and potentially fatal intricacies.
"Yeah, and they sentenced you to Slutmore Prison after the last time." Barbara was feeling defiant. Although she wasn't sure why, considering the predicament.
"Touché, Batgirl, but that brings up another point that I wanted to discuss with you." Penelope rose from the divan arched her back in a mock, cat like stretch. "I believe I owe you something for my incarceration." She walked over and squatted down next the bound crime fighter.
Her eyes locked onto the face of her captive. An evil grin slid across her face as she gently caressed Batgirl's neck with the slender whip. "Yes, I do believe I'm owed a bit of entertainment."
The leather tip of the riding crop slid down the length of Barbara's torso. She reflexively struggled to escape the touch.
"Hmmm, that's right Batgirl, when it's just talk, you have no need to fight the ropes. But suppose that I want to do more than talk?" the tip of the crop rested on Barbara's pubis. "How much self control do you have then?"
The small whip moved with lightning speed. The small flap of leather stung down on Barbara's pubis, biting down through the thin fabric of her outfit.
Surprised, Barbara struggled briefly to protect herself from the whip. As the sting faded from her sex, Barbara realized that her short spasm had cinched the rope work tighter around her body.
"That's a good idea, Batgirl, don't lose control. The more you flinch, the shorter the time we have." Lady Penelope raised her whip hand menacingly. Her eyes were intent on Batgirl's face. She was well amused by Barbara's efforts at self-control. She toyed with the idea of taking another whack. No, she thought, that wouldn't be as productive. She didn't want Batgirl to have the satisfaction of a minor victory.
Unlike the debacle on the train tracks, she had the luxury of time alone with her prey, plenty of time. It would take her students hours to finish the preparations.
"So, tell me, Batgirl, what's it like to be the pretty little helpmate to BATMAN?" She laid her crop across her knees and slowly pulled at her riding gloves, loosening one finger at a time. "I wonder, how grateful he must be to have this plucky little lass fighting at his side." She pulled the gloves from her hands.
Barbara shifted uncomfortably on the log. As she did so, she could feel the gold sash cord pull a little tighter around her breasts.
"Tut-tut! Batgirl! You shouldn't let people get the better of you. It'll be the death of you." Barbara felt the cool touch of Lady Penelope's hand on the flat of her stomach. The unexpectedly cold fingers sent a chill through Barbara's body. She sensed her nipples swelling and goose bumps breaking out across her flesh.
"Are you cold, Batgirl? I could start a fire, you know." She leered at the bound heroine with the evil gaze of a professor wanting to trade for a grade. "I know that you're starting one for me!"
She slid her hand down to the waist of Barbara's outfit. Without hesitation, her cool fingers slipped beneath the snug lycra of her hip huggers. Penelope forced her hand into the small forest of soft, moist hair that surrounded the meadow of Batgirl's sex. The tip of her fingers parted Barbara's labia. The villain made slow circles over the end of Barbara's urethra, gently grinding her sharp nails against her pussy.
Barbara closed her eyes, she could feel the moisture collecting around the probing hand as her tightly lashed body found the rhythm of Lady Penelope's motion. She pulled gently at the golden ropes as her body swayed toward climax. Barbara could feel the smooth, thick ropes tightening their malevolent embrace. Torturously gripping her ever more tightly as Penelope Peasoup probed ever deeper into Barbara.
"I could make this moment last forever," Penelope moaned, pressing her lips over Batgirl's weak, trembling mouth.
Barbara was too overwhelmed with sensation to offer any protest. She pushed her head forward, digging her tongue into Penelope's mouth. Oblivious to everything but the hot breath of her captor and the deep penetration bringing her to a squirming orgasm. The two women held the embrace for what seemed to Barbara like an agonizing eternity, her body rigid and shuddering. She held her breath as she realized the insidious intent of Penelope's passion.
The ropes around Barbara's body had lost all play. The sash cords had dug deeply into chest, making it hard for her to breath and pressed her breasts together so that they felt like they were being pressed with a giant clamp. Her elbows had been forced back, as the ropes binding them had shortened. The rope coiled around her delicate throat had tightened considerably.
"Don't worry, Batgirl, the rope around neck isn't designed to kill you. It may get tighter, but not lethally so. The other ropes, I'm afraid, are not so forgiving." She pulled her fingers from Barbara's soaked pants. "But you must admit, it is a lot more fun than getting run over by train!" Penelope sucked the heroine's juices from her fingers as if indulging in an over ripe fruit.
"Oh, I wouldn't know, Penelope. Why don't you try it and let me know what you find out." Barbara was struggling to recover her composure.
Penelope couldn't help but chuckle. "Forever defiant, stiff upper lip and all that. You just need the accent and you'd make a perfect English copper." She smiled, "But, a few more orgasms like that and I won't be telling you anything, Batgirl! In the mean time, lets get rid of this pesky utility belt." Lady Penelope reached down and deftly undid the Chinese puzzle lock that had foiled May and June earlier.
"Yes, Batgirl, your little bauble might have been a problem for my students, but I wrote the book!" She motioned to the stack of books near the divan. She carefully slid the belt from around Barbara's waist and tossed it back onto the divan.
"That will make a pleasant little keepsake of the times we've had. You don't mind, do you?" She gave a saccharine smile as if she were offering the vicar another scone.
"No, by all means, have fun!" Barbara remarked, trying to seem unconcerned. I hope she plays with that in the other room, Barbara thought. There were several charged high-voltage capacitors, plastic explosives and an assortment of chemicals on the belt. None of which were marked. If Lady Penelope Peasoup was careless, she would end up just a soupy spattering on the wall.
Lady Penelope stood up. "Fortunately for us, the former tenant of this lovely home had a bit of a perverse bent herself." Penelope strode over to a large trunk that had been set next to the fireplace's hearth.
"I wonder what the boys at Genital Electric R&D have come up with?" She knelt down and rummaged through the box, shifting the contents, as if she were browsing the bargain bin at Harrod's.
"Hmmm... what does this do?" She pulled out a long metallic dildo. Near the top of the shaft was black studded ring. At the tip was a similarly studded black ball. She pressed a button on the handle and the device started to whine. The ball and the ring spun in opposite directions.
"Too much torque, I'm afraid." She let it run over her the back of her hand. "But it does have potential." She lay it on the floor next to the box.
"Ooooh, I do love a good flogger." Four leather braids dangled from a short, slightly drooping handle. Barbara could see the glint of silver at the end of each braid. She realized that Penelope had modified the all of these toys to her own perverted needs. She continued to sort through the box collecting an assortment of clamps, gags, restraints, and all manners of sex toys, each modified from its original design to a new insidious style of torture.
"How about these?" She held up a set of Ben-wa balls. She clicked the small balls together. Batgirl watched with horror as yellow flames shot from them. "That would provide a shocking climax, don't you think? Let me tell you, Batgirl, it's quite the shame. So many toys so little time." Suddenly Penelope's face lit up.
"Ohhhh, now this has got to be IT!!" She pulled a box wrapped in a rubber mat from the trunk. "This is the toy of the future. She brought it back over to the bound heroine and placed it on the flagstone.
Unfolding the mat revealed a small apparatus, consisting of an electric motor connected to a flywheel. A set of contacts fed wire leads that disappeared into the side of the mat. The mat itself unfolded to reveal itself as a small Persian carpet, about four by three feet and backed with a heavy layer of white rubber.
"What do you think?" Lady Penelope smiled.
"Caucasian, I think. Probably woven about 1815." Barbara answered. The rug was pretty, but the ugly rubber mat on the bottom made it almost worthless as an antique.
"Very astute, Batgirl, but the weave wasn't what I was inquiring about."
Lady Penelope spread the carpet out next to Batgirl's bound figure. She put the device on the floor and crossed to an outlet by the wall. She strode back jauntily after plugging it in.
Barbara felt Penelope's hands roughly undoing the side zipper of her Batgirl pants. Once unzipped they were pulled down so that her still moist sex was fully exposed. Penelope spent several minutes adjusting the rope work so that Barbara's thighs were slightly parted. She then took the time to ensure that her Batgirl top was also adjusted out of the way, leaving her breasts exposed to the cool air of the room. After the exertions of her earlier torment, the air dried the sweat from her breasts making the nipples swell slightly.
"Do you remember your high school science classes? Do remember those clever demonstrations in static electricity? The one where you would hold onto the static generator and your hair would stand up? Hhmm, what were they called, Van der Graaf Generators? Yes, that's it!" Lady Penelope was enjoying her little flourish of theater.
"Well, my dear Batgirl, this little box converts the AC current from the wall outlet into a DC current similar to that produced by a Van der Graaf Generator. A fairly large one at that." The corners of her mouth curled slightly in evil grin.
"The charge is fed into this lovely Oriental rug, Caucasian, circa 1815, as you correctly pointed out. It's been insulated from the floor with a thick rubber layer. It's also been coated with a clear coating of conductive spray." She clicked the switch on the outside of the box. It whirred slightly as its small electric motor started to generate a charge. Barbara could see the loose hairs in Penelope's tightly coiled bun stand up as they repelled one another.
Lady Penelope held the tip of her finger an inch above Barbara's erect nipple. "I thought you'd have trouble resisting the anticipation of this." She admired the shape of the swollen areola. Both women watched and waited.
A blue light jumped from the tip of Penelope's finger to the erect Bat-nipple. Barbara let out a howl of surprise as the loud crack echoed through the large parlor. Lady Penelope laughed and shook the sensation from her hand. Barbara's sensitive nipple smarted from the strong shock. She pulled at the ropes convulsively, feeling them cinching tighter.
"I never thought of you as a noisy lover, Batgirl. But I guess learning is an ongoing experience." She hoped off the mat and ran over to her toy chest. When she returned she had a small bundle of stuff. The first was long purple cloth gag. She took the long strip of silk and started coiling it over Barbara's mouth. The first two passes she pulled tight between Barbara's teeth. The final two passes covered her lips and chin. She pulled it snug as she could and knotted it in the back. Barbara's protests at the sight of the other items were effectively silenced.
After securing the gag over Barbara's mouth, Penelope slipped on a pair elegant white gloves. They were made of a shear white lace and went only as far as the wrist, where they ended with a frilly trim. "These are to dampen the shocks." She smiled at the uncomfortably squirming Batgirl. "For me," she added, making sure that Barbara understood she wasn't going to receive any mercy.
Picking up a black dildo, Penelope smiled, "This is Ben, as in Big." She clicked a button on the side and it whirred to life. Penelope drew the sleek black dildo across her neck, allowing the power of its motor to massage her skin. Eventually, she let it slide down her body until it passed the hem of her skirt and the slipped up towards her sex. Barbara could see in Lady Penelope's face when the vibrator penetrated her body. She fell forward from her squatting position to her knees as she let the vibrator stimulate her inner reaches. She leaned her head back and let out a low moan as a shudder passed through her. She stayed like that for several seconds, savoring the sensation.
She pulled the glistening black plaything from her body. "Now it's your turn, Batgirl!" Barbara fidgeted as the Lady Penelope moved the vibrator towards the defenseless heroine. Barbara puffed heavily through the gag, her eyes locked on the buzzing black piece. She pulled at the cords binding her wrists and the tried in vain to close her thighs to the intruder.
At the last moment she closed her eyes in anticipation of the shock. Instead she felt the soft touch of the vibrator against the head of her clit. Her sex was still moist and receptive from the fear and excitement of her earlier torment and the dildo found no resistance in entering her. Penelope expertly maneuvered the dildo through the intricacies of Barbara's pussy. She pushed it tauntingly deep and then teasingly back, driving Barbara to the edge.
Despite the growing stress of the ropes on her body, Barbara responded with deep sensual movement of hips and body. She closed her eyes and arched her back, reaching for the peak of orgasm.
Seeing her prey lost in the euphoria of the moment, Lady Penelope let her ride the orgasm to peak. Just as Barbara was quivering in climax, Penelope's finger slid along the shaft of dildo. When it was only a fraction of an inch from the juice soaked hairs of Barbara's snatch, the static discharge jumped the gap and sent Barbara flying into a longer, deeper spasm of painful ecstasy than she could ever imagine.
Barbara could feel the ropes encasing her body tighten as the orgasm floated her in what seemed to be and endless rush of endorphins spiked with adrenaline.
As her mind returned to her, she could hear Lady Penelope cooing like dove in her aristocratic English accent. "Yes Batgirl, the ropes will get tighter, but the tighter they get, the slower they'll contract. So we can play like this for quite a long time before I get to hear you ribs start to snap!" The quiver in her voice made it clear to Barbara that Penelope Peasoup was sharing in the intensity of the bound girl's sensation.
Barbara watched as Lady Penelope lorded over the helpless Batgirl, she reveled in the smooth athletic form glistening with sweat under the confining strain of golden cordage. Penelope leaned over, extending her long snakelike tongue towards the erect peak of Barbara's nipple. A moment later her head jerked back reflexively as the powerful shock stunned both women.
Barbara squirmed in her bondage, desperate to escape. She groaned and moaned into her gag as the smarting sensation in her breast and aching pussy started to subside. It felt like someone had whipped it with a wire of infinitesimal size and infinite mass. It burned, but she knew that Penelope would only get crueler as her body became more sensitized to the diabolically electrified touch.
"Excuse me, Miss Penelope." It was April, May and June. They were standing in a row near the parlor's entrance. They were all dressed in the same uniform that Barbara had found April wearing while tied up in the turret. They were white cotton blouses and navy blue tailored skirts. Barbara noticed that the skirts had slits up the left side, so that when they stood at attention with their feet planted slightly a part, their white stockinged legs were exposed almost to the thigh.
April was the smallest of the three, next was May and finally June. May and June looked even more girlish than they had the night before at the docks. Unlike April, they were both brunettes and not as busty. But they both had very attractive builds, slim and rather on the leggy side. Barbara thought that the two might even be sisters. That would explain the competitive nature they showed last night. All three girls had their hair tied in efficient ponytails. From the dust on their saddle shoes, Barbara guessed they that were just back from some sort of work detail.
"We've finished preparing the basement," said June.
Lady Penelope looked back at the exhausted Batgirl. She had been methodically working over her victim for more than an hour and the ropes around Barbara's chest, thighs and abdomen had cinched so tight that breathing had become difficult. Penelope had thought things were finally getting to their most interesting. She sighed. "Very well, you finished before I did, so let us go see how it looks."
It was only then that Barbara realized that Lady Penelope had only been toying with her victim, using her torment to while away the time as her students finished some devious project in the basement.
"So Batgirl, what do you know about quantum mechanics?" Because of the thick purple gag in her mouth, the question was obviously rhetorical. But Barbara felt herself shudder from the tone in Lady Penelope's voice.
HOLY BAT-GAS!!! WHAT DIABOLICAL DESTINY HAS PENELOPE PEASOUP GOT COOKING???? IS THIS BATGIRL'S FINAL EXAM???? DOES LADY PEASOUP HAVE SOME ATOM SMASHING IN HER LESSON PLAN????
FIND OUT IN THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF BATGIRL VS THE CRIME SCHOOL FOR GIRLS!!!!!
The basement of Pinkston Palisades was filled with a labyrinth of passageways and vaulted chambers. Some of the original lands around the estate had been vineyards, and the cool subterranean caves had proved excellent for the purpose of aging fine wine. Unfortunately for the local wineries, smog from Wayne Enterprises had acidified the soil, leaving the grapes bitter. Most of the winepresses and equipment had long ago been dismantled and sold at auctions.
Under the supervision of Lady Penelope, the three students carried the struggling heroine down the treacherously narrow stone steps into the bowels of Pinkston Palisades. Barbara was still restrained by many of the torturously tight ropes and fatigued by her ordeal beneath Lady Penelope's electrified touch. Even so, the three young women had a tough time maintaining control of their captive. Barbara bucked and struggled with a furor that made progress down the passage an ordeal for her would be assassins. A stream of muffled, unlady like epithets shot from beneath the thick purple gag.
After what seemed like an unending journey, the first class of Penelope Peasoup's Crime School reached their destination. It was a secluded chamber deep within the bowels of Pinkston Palisades. It had small entrance that even the petite April needed to duck through. The flames of two torches glowed in the darkness. The three students gratefully deposited the trussed heroine in the center of the room.
In the flickering darkness, Barbara could make out few details of the chamber. The crude masonry was a dance with mottled shadows. Three large dark masses filled what would have been corners had the room not been a crude circle. The fourth corner' had a boom crane, one end of which was mounted on the floor and the other end jutted out to the center of the room just below the cavern's ceiling, ten or so feet above the floor. A pair of guide wires held the pole steadily in place.
Barbara lay struggling helplessly on the strangely warm floor. It was made from plywood and had a hollow sound that gave Barbara the impression that it was part of some sort of platform. At Lady Penelope's command the three students undid Barbara's elbows and wrists. April sat on her legs, vainly trying to avoid being pushed off while the May and June forced Barbara's wrists together and retied them in front of her with strong thin wire that dug into her gloved wrists. June soon had them tightly wrapped in a coil of wire that she cinched and knotted.
Lady Peasoup walked over to a cleat set in the crude masonry. She undid the rope and fed out the thick rope, lowering down a large cargo hook. When it was about six feet from the floor, she secured the rope back on the cleat and then helped her students stood the struggling Batgirl up. Taking the last few feet of rope, April, May and June then finished tying Barbara's wrists to the hook.
Once Barbara was made fast, the four villains pulled in unison, hoisting her aloft. The coarse rope groaned feebly as it strained to support the weight of the bound heroine. Barbara, realizing the futility of her struggles as her feet left the floor, gave up her fight. After much cursing and several disparaging remarks by Lady Penelope, Barbara's feet dangled a foot and a half above the floor.
Lady Penelope, resuming her usual aristocratic smugness, surveyed her gently swaying victim. She then turned to address both her students and her captive.
"Batgirl, are you familiar with the German Physicist, Erwin Schroedinger?" Whether Barbara knew or not was made moot by the thick purple gag that covered the lower half of her face.
"Well, girls, are any of you familiar with Herr Schroedinger? I thought not!" She waved her riding crop with a great flourish. "Herr Doctor Schoedinger was a Nobel Prize winning physicist. His expertise in quantum mechanics makes him a legend amongst scientists the world over.
"But for our discussion I am going to limit myself to one aspect of his work. He developed a wonderful metaphor to illustrate a major concept of quantum mechanics. It is called 'Schoedinger's Cat.'
"In quantum theory, things can exist multiple states at the same time. An atom could spin in two directions at once. Or light could behave as both matter and wave. It is only when there's an observer measuring that the object will assume a particular state.
"Now how does this affect the committing of crime in modern Gotham?" The three girls stood silent, looking more confused than usual. Barbara, who understood the underlying concepts, was also baffled as to where this was going. However, her silence was more forced than that of the students.
"Well, if a crime goes unobserved, then has a crime been truly committed?" Penelope was well pleased that her logic was so far ahead of her students that they were left dumbstruck.
"To illustrate this paradox he came up with a delicious little metaphor." Her riding crop slid down to the hem of her skirt and delicately traced the exposed length of her inner thigh.
"He said that if you placed a cat in a sealed box with a single atom of an isotope that had EXACTLY a fifty-fifty chance of decaying and opening a vial of deadly poison or of not decaying and allowing the cat to live, the cat would persist in both states until somebody opened the box to look." She reveled momentarily in the cruelty of poisoning small animals.
While she savored the impact she thought this was having on her charges, she took down one of the sputtering torches and circled the room, lighting additional torches as she went. When she returned the torch to its holder, eight torches blazed, filling the chamber with yellow light.
Barbara could now see what the three dark masses were. In front of her was a large wrought iron cage. It looked like it was an inverted part of some type giant strainer, maybe part of a winepress, Barbara theorized. Inside was a golden statue. Barbara thought it looked like a Baroque cherub, but through the thick metal slats it was hard to tell.
"So, Batgirl, this is your fate. I've devised this little corner of Hell just for you." Barbara could see Penelope was almost trembling with excitement as she started to explain her diabolical creation. "You have, I'm sure, noticed the iron cage directly in front you. Inside is an exact replica of a baroque cherub once owned by the mistress of the last Grand Inquisitor of Spain. She was one of the great evil wenches of history. Her name is lost to history, but fortunately her deeds are not.
"This entire chamber is based on one of her many brilliant ideas. The bow on that cherub is armed with a steel bolt. And he is aiming it directly across the chamber at that other iron cage. Inside the cage is a glass tube filled with my deadly poison fog." She smiled at the suspended Batgirl.
"The only impediment in its path is our lovely crime fighter... " Her voice trailed off momentarily while she contemplated her lovely target. She walked over to the hanging heroine. She reached up wrapped her arm around Barbara's thighs. Pulling her over, she rubbed her cheek against the soft fabric of Batgirl's costume, drawing in the scent of Barbara's moist sex. She sighed deeply and pressed her lips tightly through the thin fabric to the lips of Barbara's sex. She bit at it gently, thinking how sensitive it must still be after the hours of electric torment to which it had been subjected.
Barbara squirmed feebly, she loathed the touch of her nemesis, but could no longer spare her meager reserves to fight her. She writhed as she felt Penelope's gentle nibble.
"Ahhh, but how does that provide the aforementioned duality? You're right, Batgirl! A steel bolt passing through your nubile young form would not provide the even money required for my little lesson. And releasing my poison fog after running you through would not give you nearly enough time to suffer an enjoyably slow, painful death." She smiled at her captive.
"To truly illustrate this pussy in a box situation, I have added something a little extra." She pointed over Barbara's shoulder, toward one of the dark masses. The torchlight glowed on the massive clockwork device. It had large iron gears and stood like a great black spider in the dim light of the corner. Perched on its front was a large pendulum. At its bottom was a large pig-iron weight. At its top was a scythe-shaped blade. On either side were two massive weights suspended from lengths of heavy chain. The crude device was coated in thick black grease. The flickering flames reflected off it to make it seem almost alive.
"I call this 'Cerberus.' You know, the two-headed guardian of Hell. I don't have the vaguest idea what this thing was intended for, but I am certain what it'll do now. If you haven't figured it out, this is an inverted pendulum. As the two side weights slide down the central pendulum is raised progressively higher. The razor sharp blade at the top will slowly be put in contact with the two ropes directly above them." She pointed at two ropes stretched above the arc of the blade.
"They have been carefully set so that they will both be cut virtually simultaneously. Of course, only one can be first, and there is no way to tell which. One is attached to the Cherub and will release its deadly arrow. The other is attached to a rock suspended above the jar of my deliciously deadly fog. If that one is cut, the cherub won't fire." The whites of her teeth showed as she ran her hand over her breast.
"If I were you, I'd hope for the cherub."
"May, June, come with me! We need to get the masonry supplies down here before we can start the demonstration!" She turned toward April.
"I want you to guard our guest. You've screwed up enough already, so don't drop your guard!!" She turned and led the others out of the cavern.
April stood at attention as the three women excited the through the small arch. She stayed like that, waiting, nervously eyeing the trussed heroine teetering in the air. After several minutes she bent over and peered out the entrance.
She turned toward Batgirl and said in a low voice, "I am so sorry! I didn't mean for any of this to happen! I was just trying to get a better education so that I could get a better job! The ad said 'learn bookmaking'... I thought it was like accounting." She was near tears as she crossed over to Barbara.
"I didn't mean to knock you out before. I just wanted to stop you from going back onto the lawn. They filled the lawn sprinklers with her poison fog! I didn't think I'd hit you that hard. I am so sorry!"
She dipped her head in shame as she passed Barbara and reached for the cleat holding her aloft. She pulled at the rope and tried to unhinge it, but she had neither the strength nor the size to free it.
April pulled a small box cutter from the waistband of her skirt and started sawing at the rope. She had barely begun when a loud scuffing noise was heard on the stone floor outside the chamber.
"Just as I suspected!!" Lady Penelope and her two students scrambled through the narrow arch, "I thought you lacked the killer instinct to be the kind of crook that would be proud to possess a Peasoup Plaque!!!"
May and June jumped on her and wrestled the tiny knife from her hand. They each pinned an arm behind April's back. The smaller blonde struggled futilely as the taller brunettes pulled her to her feet. May grabbed a generous tuft of hair with her free hand and pulled it sharply back. April's head was jerked up just as Penelope came to face her.
"I gave you the benefit of my years' of criminal expertise and this is how you repay me??" She gripped April's delicate chin between her gloved fingers. "I think that for you school is over... Forever!!!"
Penelope pushed the girl's face to the side and motioned May and June to take her away.
With both of her arms twisted behind her, April was only able to offer token resistance as her two classmates forced her from the room. The brief struggle on the floor had torn most of the buttons from her blouse and her breasts hung partially free. Barbara felt a twinge of regret as she watched the trio exit. She had cursed herself for following her intuition when she tried to rescue April from the bondage chair in the attic. Now it looked as if she had the right instincts, but had misread the situation completely.
Now they were both doomed. Barbara wasn't sure what Penelope would cook up for the little blonde, but she understood Lady Penelope's taste in women and her taste in torture. April was deep trouble. And it didn't look like Barbara was going to get many opportunities to help the poor girl out.
"You're right. Your little friend is in BIG trouble. I think she's in for a severe 'tanning.'" Lady Penelope whacked her open palm with her riding crop.
"But, dear Batgirl, I'm afraid you have your own problems." She moved close to Barbara, trying to smell the fear in Barbara's sweaty bondage. "Would you like something to take your mind off the clock?" She motioned to the clockwork device.
"I have just the thing," her sharp features turned upward in a barbaric grin. From her pocket she pulled a flat black gizmo. At first Barbara thought it was a leather wallet, but its unsupported end drooped and it lacked any obvious zipper.
"I call this 'Big Ben.' In London, people wait for the chimes of Big Ben to know what time it is. This is going to be your timekeeper. Every five minutes it will have you writhing in ecstasy." She pulled Barbara close. "Like it or not."
Barbara could hear the ropes groan disconcertedly above her. She wondered how long the dry, brittle rope would continue to support her weight. She was also wondering if Lady Penelope realized just how precarious her suspension was.
Lady Penelope ignored the creaking rope. She gripped Barbara roughly around the hips and gave an appreciative squeeze of the buttock. She stretched the elastic lycra of her pants and slid her hand deep into her crotch. Her rough motions softened as her hands came into contact with the soft damp patch of hair and the still tender skin of Barbara's sex. She massaged it gently for a few brief moments, feeling the moisture build around her fingers.
Fatigue and thoughts of the ropes giving way prevented Barbara from putting up any real struggle. She didn't want that to happen while Lady Penelope was still around to string her back up. For the moment, she simply surrendered to the sensation of the hand touching against her sensitized flesh. In spite of all the diabolic devices and fiendish sexual tortures Lady Penelope had subject Batgirl to, this close physical contact gave her the most intense orgasm of the conflict.
Barbara hung limply as the sensations ebbed from her body. She could barely open her eyes as Lady Penelope raised 'Big Ben' up to eye level. Balancing it on the palm of her hand, she clicked it on. A long ridge suddenly rose up on its back. A moment later it let out off an earsplitting screech. She turned it immediately off.
"It vibrates at an ultrasonic frequency that has innumerable uses. I'm sure you've heard of ultra sonic cleaners for contact lenses and jewelry. It cleans because the high frequency vibration liquefies the debris on the surface. The more energy the in the sonification process the more you can liquefy." She smiled. "If this were left on just a little too long... well, you can imagine the results."
"But that isn't its purpose. I've designed this to give you a twenty-five second burst every five minutes. The frequency I programmed it for is exactly the same frequency your neurons operate at. Within seconds, you will be brought to a marvelous orgasm." She used her still pussy-soaked hand to slide it into Barbara's stretch pants. The soft padding on most of the diabolical gizmo contoured neatly to Barbara's sex.
Lady Penelope headed toward the small arched exit. She paused as large black lever protruding from the floor. She pulled hard at it until there was a sharp, gratifying click. The sharp blade started to swing to and fro with broad, menacing strokes. Each swing was announced with a loud whoosh as the blade cut the air.
"You know, Batgirl, that rope doesn't look too strong. Maybe I should do something to make sure that if does break, you'll have a soft landing?" She let out low laugh and pulled at a second lever set in the floor. The floor suddenly started to recede. A great circle opened in the ground. Just a few feet below Barbara's dangling feet was a seething, bubbling pool of green.
"For your last meal I thought you might enjoy a cup of hot soup!!"
Lady Penelope cackled as she deftly plopped mortar and stone in the small entrance. Barbara had seen in Penelope's file that she had studied masonry in prison. Now she was applying this noble trade to black purposes as she quickly but carefully walled up the small entryway and sealed Batgirl inside.
"If Herr Doctor Schroedinger's idea applies to two possibilities, then why not more? Eh, Batgirl???" She laughed heartily as she set the last stone in place.
Through the thick wall Barbara could hear Penelope shout, "I'll be thinking of you as I lay in my bed, dear, soon to be dead, Batgirl!"
COULD THIS BE THE END OF BATGIRL??? HAS PENELOPE PEASOUP GIVEN BATGIRL HER FINAL GRADE???? AND WHAT OF POOR APRIL??? IS IT THE SHOWERS FOR HER??? AND JUST HOW DO THE ENGLISH TAN???
Barbara looked down. Her feet were dangling above a slowly swirling vat of viscous pea-green liquid. Bubbles periodically erupted on the surface, throwing small green gobs in the air. Lady Penelope had thought of everything, Barbara realized. Regardless of her fate, arrow or gas, this giant, simmering vat would eventually cook all the evidence down to nothing. The swoosh of the inverted pendulum made Barbara glance up, just in time to see the ratchet move the blade up another notch. She almost panicked when she realized how far the blade had inched up in the couple of minutes since Lady Penelope had sealed her into the subterranean dungeon. At this rate, I'll only have fifteen or twenty minutes before the blade reaches the ropes, she thought.
She looked at the small round face of the cherub smiling out from the protective confines of its iron cage. The gold leaf, in the flickering light, made the little angle dark and cruel with black shadows hiding its eyes.
The bubbling green gruel let off the strong odor of split peas and the slightly sour smell of old toothpaste. Barbara looked down in horror as her bound ankles swayed gently over the vat. She watched as an unusually large bubble broke surface near her. A long sinuous glob spun through the air and landed on the purple leather of her boot.
She looked above her and saw the coarse old rope was already chafing on the primitive pulley that supported her.
She suddenly yelped into her gag as she felt a fierce burning sensation in her foot. She kicked futilely for a moment and looked at a small hole opening in her boot. Hydrochloric Acid! Boiling to death wasn't enough for Penelope Peasoup. She wanted Barbara to do it in vat of acidic soup! Barbara looked briefly at the demonic little cherub. Maybe she was right, she ought to pray for the arrow to do her in.
NOT THIS TIME!!! Barbara said to herself, shaking defeat from her shoulders. Regaining her composure, she surveyed the situation.
If I could only... her train of thought was interrupted. The diabolical 'Big Ben' that Lady Penelope had secreted in the crotch of Barbara's Batgirl costume came to life. She could feel the crest rising along its back as it pressed itself deep into the folds of her labia. Before Barbara had time to realize what was happening, it commenced its ultra-high frequency stimulation of her sex.
She struggled vainly in her bondage as it began tormenting her. Her pussy ached as it disappeared in mass of sensation. She bucked and convulsed involuntarily as a bizarre almost perpetual orgasm consumed her. The world around her was lost as the white-hot sensation spread out from loins and burned her flesh. She could hear the swoosh of the pendulum's blade as it sliced back and forth through the air and the tortured groan of the ropes as they suffered the spasmodic kicks and shudders of Batgirl's body in the grip of Penelope Peasoup's diabolical trap. Soon, even those ominous sounds were obliterated by sensory overload.
"So, my pretty, you've had a change of heart about your enrollment at Lady Penelope Peasoup's Crime School for Girls." With one arm propping her up and the other tracing the round curves of April's body, Lady Peasoup was enjoying herself immensely. The day was turning out to be a red letter A+. She had been somewhat regretting her decision to let Batgirl meet her doom alone in the caverns. But the fear she'd seen in Batgirl as the last stone was wedged into place told her it was a good choice. And now she had an additional consolation prize.
She looked at April. The chesty young blonde was stretched out in front of her. The leather shackles kept her young athletic build stretched to its limits. She was naked except for the lacy white panties that covered her sex.
Lady Penelope let the sharp tip of her fingernail trace its way down the length of the bound girl's abdomen.
"In case you're wondering, tuition is non-refundable," Penelope snarled with satisfaction and slid her hand under the sheer fabric of the panties. The girl groaned through the thick leather gag as she felt herself being violated. Lady Penelope had been seeking fault with her young pupil at every turn. And she hadn't had a difficult time of it either. (The poor girl just wasn't very bright.) With every screw-up came a new opportunity to strip her, abuse her, and have a wonderful time of it.
Now the time had come to enjoy the experience of expelling the school's first student. Long ago Penelope had realized that a fine school's reputation was not built solely on the success of its graduates, but also on the perception that it was exclusive. If every one with money could graduate, then what was the value of a diploma? She had decided that as a matter of course, one student (at least) per semester would fail. This was good business, as well as satiating to her own twisted desires.
The circle of cold steel upon which she had bound her student and the damp fog laden air gave the girl goose bumps despite her fear. Having spent many years lurking in the dark underbelly of London's foggy streets, Lady Peasoup was immune to the chill of the night air. She was wearing only a tightly laced black 'merry widow' style teddy, gartered stockings with nastily sharp stiletto pumps and black fingerless gloves that extended past her elbows.
"Welcome to Lady Penelope's course in Home Economics." Penelope looked intently at the girl. Her penetrating fingers eliciting a spreading dampness, both in her and her victim.
"The first rule of economics, like politics, is that all economics start at home. And it is bad economics if I allow a student of questionable reliability to leave here. You would probably run off and tell the first copper you meet all about my little finishing school.
"So that's why we've come to this. We don't call them finishing schools for nothing!!!" She withdrew her fingers and licked them as if the scones had proved to crumbly for her tea.
Satisfied with her short rationalization, she reached over to a small remote that lay on the steel floor next to the tautly drawn girl. She fingered its sleek black shape, appreciating the stylistic phallicness of it. Power, with it she could control this girl's fate, ripping her limb from limb, inflicting unspeakable torture, or changing the channel on the telly. As long as it was hers, she was in control.
She pointed it up towards the small receiver sitting on a wrought iron garden table at the edge of the room. The small electro-servos whirred under the polished steel. April's arms and legs slowly spread out so that she was laid out as if the 'x' at the center of a huge target.
"When I was planning what I should do in the event Batgirl interfered in my plans, as I hoped she would, this was one of my first choices. If you hadn't become the object of my disaffection, it might have been her counting the minutes to sunrise, instead of you." Penelope leaned over and sympathetically brushed a stray hair from April's face. "Tragically, you dying a hideous but anonymous death in the wine cellar lacked any real drama. So Batgirl gets the honor of demonstrating one of the finest principles in modern criminology, while you get to provide me with a bit of prime entertainment." Her hand slid back down the firm white flesh of April's breasts. Penelope closed thumb and forefinger around the brown tip of the girl's erect nipple and slowly closed her grip.
April's breath became shallow and rapid as Penelope's knuckles whitened.
Penelope straddled the girl. She felt her thighs gently rubbing on the goose-pimply flesh of April's torso. Penelope grasped the girl's other nipple in her vise like grip. Tugging them gently to and fro, Penelope savored the sensation of the girl squirming to escape beneath her legs. Looking at the clock, she thought, seventy-two minutes.
"The thing I like about nipple clamps isn't the pain you inflict on the wearer while they're on..." She smiled wryly, her fingers were starting to cramp from her tug of war with April's well rounded breasts. She'd admired them a lot over the last couple of months, and was in ecstasy at having her way with them.
"It's that, inevitably, you have to take them off." She let go of both nipples simultaneously. She watched April's face with amusement as blood rushed back into the deprived nipples. The girls eyes closed, and her brow furrowed as she groaned into her leather gag. "Exquisite sensation, isn't it?" She picked up her riding crop and flexed it gently in her grip.
"It also makes them wonderfully sensitive." She leaned over and traced her tongue over the very tip of a still smarting nipple. April tried uselessly to recoil. Penelope closed her lips around it. She gently sucked at it, pulling it deeper into her mouth. Her tongue rasping at the sensitive flesh.
April could feel the elaborate lace undergarment stroking her body as Penelope's hips thrust rhythmically. The growing intensity of Penelope's arousal gave her motion a force of violence that pulled and tormented the younger woman. Penelope engulfed one of the girl's breasts with her mouth as she alternately bit and sucked at it. The other breast was tugged and kneaded ferociously. With her free hand Penelope traced the inner thighs of her spread eagle victim, occasionally letting fall a cruel slap at the defenseless inner reaches.
Penelope rode the girl like that until she brought herself to a vicious climax.
Barbara looked down at swirling vat of acid. The fraying rope had lowered her about six inches towards the scalding hot liquid. Her 'Big Ben' induced orgasms had felt like painful licks of death as her body convulsed and spasmed involuntarily. She passed out completely during the first two, only recovering shortly before the next assaults.
Since then they had become less orgasmic and more just an act of straight torture. Each time the little device raised its hackle, Barbara's body cringe in anticipation of the coming torment.
She looked at the fraying rope above her. Time was running out. She tried to get her feet up and away from the scalding acid, but the lace work of golden sash cord that she was bound from head to toe in prevented her from doing more than wiggling uselessly. It was still tight enough to make the heavy breathing of her exertions labored.
She felt a burning sensation on the back of her calf. It was another splatter of acid bubbling off the pool below. The small gobs were not enough to seriously burn her after they dissolved the fabric of her costume. But they were a constant reminder of the fate that was churning a few feet below.
Barbara tried again to lift her feet. Much to her surprise she felt the sash cord pop free and hang loose around her body. The acid must have burned through the ropes, she thought, much relieved by the small victory.
Barbara glanced at the swaying pendulum blade. She only had a few minutes before it would make contact with the two ropes that would decide her fate. She closed her eyes and mustered what resources she had left. She slowed her frantic pulse and cleared her mind of the terrible visions that had been pre-occupying her for the last several hours. Her fate was hers to control. Her will was the only thing that she needed to rely on. Her breathing fell into its natural rhythm as she freed her mind of pain and failings.
She raised her knees slowly. If she had wondered how she could have done it, she would have failed. She didn't. Her legs pulled slowly to her chest. Next, her arms, which had been aching terribly for hours, started to lift body upward as she rotated her torso into a nearly inverted position. Finally, with her eyes closed, she lifted her legs above her head so that she could wrap her feet around the end of the boom from which she had been suspended. She'd hated learning to do the inverted lift in college, but it was proving its worth.
Once her long legs had a firm grip on the boom crane, Barbara quickly attacked the ropes binding her wrists. Without any tension to keep the bondage tight, the ropes were easily undone.
She was just letting the last piece of rope drop into the cauldron below when she felt the repulsive sensation of 'Big Ben' coming to life. As it pressed itself deeper into her sore sex, Barbara grabbed at the crane with one hand to secure her hold and at the buttons of her pants with her other. She tore at her costume, desperately trying to avoid the searing pain that would force her into the bubbling cauldron below. Just as the device was pulling away from her clit, it started its high frequency buzzing. Barbara dropped it and saw it plop into the acidic soup below.
Relieved, she started to shimmy down the crane. Not one of Genital Electric's better R&D efforts, Barbara mused as she noticed a blue scum forming where the vibrator landed.
Sliding carefully off the wooden boom, Barbara had escaped the most hideous part of Penelope Peasoup's plot. But she was still sealed in the chamber. The Pendulum was still sawing away at the ropes and regardless of which rope was cut the poisonous gas would soon fill the air. She ran over to the inverted pendulum. She grabbed at the swooshing arm. Using all her energy she was barely able to slow its clock like mechanism. I don't have time to stop it, she realized.
Searching the chamber, Barbara found several old steel rods used for reinforcing concrete. They were heavily encrusted with years of rust. She pulled up two of the longer pieces and headed towards the iron cage. She quickly slid the rods through grates and under the large amorphous rock that dangled over the glass orb. The pale green gas that filled the orb was so dense that Barbara couldn't see the other side of its eighteen-inch diameter. After gently prodding and cajoling the hanging rock, she succeeded in seating it between the two iron rods.
She glanced at back at the caged cherub, to see if he was going to object to her action and then to the swinging blade of the pendulum. She realized instantly that her time was almost up. The blade was slashing away at the still taunt rope controlling the cherub's lethal bow. The rope that held the rock was now lazily rolling over the sharp edge as it glided past. The other rope, however was cut almost halfway through. She watched in fear as a single pass of the blade cut almost half of the remaining fibers.
Using all of her remaining speed and energy, Barbara grabbed at a piece of loose flagstone at her feet. With one surprisingly sharp tug, the stone pulled free. She dropped to her knee and held the thin flat stone at a sharp thirty degrees from the arrow's path.
On the next pass of the blade, the last strands split with a loud TWANG!!! The little statue let fly its small arrow. Barbara was surprised at the ferocity of impact as the projectile crashed into the rock. It knocked her back so that she landed flat on her back with the two pieces of slate lying on either side. The arrow had burrowed its way into the mortar of the wall several feet above the gas flask.
She shook the ringing sensation from her fingers as she sat up. The imminent threat of death was past, but Barbara was still buried a hundred feet below ground with a poisonous vat of noxious acid. Her body ached from her hours of bondage, suspension, electric shocks and sexual torment. She looked at the small walled up entrance of the chamber. She new she had no choice but dig herself out.
After a few minutes of self-indulgent rest, she pulled herself to her feet and started searching the scraps of metal rods. She found one that seemed the right size for needs and started chipping at the quick hardening mortar that blocked the exit.
"Uhmmm..." Penelope stretched herself on the wicker sofa that sat amidst the withered remains of palm trees, ferns, rose bushes and assorted exotic plants that had filled the Pinkston Green Room. It was built on the center of the roof of Pinkston Palisades and had been the pride and joy of the Pinkston Family for generations. "I always love that tired, satisfied feeling at the end of a night of wicked debauchery." She twirled a pair of sunglasses lazily as she pressed her long finger on the left arrow of her remote.
A thin mechanical whir whispered in response as she watched April's mussed blonde hair rotate into view. She was still spread eagle on the steel plate. Lady Penelope admired the curvy form of the young woman as the turntable rotated. As the girl's face came into clear view, Penelope admired the pretty blue eyes and soft cheekbones peeking above the broad leather gag. The girl was spent. Any fight she had was lost long ago, while Penelope toyed with her nubile body. "Where are your nit-wit classmates?" Penelope looked at her watch, lying on the table. "If they don't hurry up, they're going to miss a beautiful sunrise!"
She looked at the struggling April. She was pleasantly surprised that not quite all the fight had left her. So much the better.
"I guess we shall start without them then. Not that I could delay it any way." She smiled and stood. "As you may recall, most of the windows in this greenhouse were broken when our illustrious school was established. Well I have seen that they have all been replaced." She gave one of her theatrical waves at the surroundings. She pushed the 'Slow Retract' button on the remote and then tossed it back to the couch. She had no further need of it. The servo-electric winches that controlled the tension on the girl's limbs started to hum as they pulled slowly tighter. April groaned beseechingly.
"However, now for your benefit, in lieu of Batgirl's, I have replaced them with series of convex lenses. Each glass will now focus the light of the early morning sun on your pert and nubile form. When the morning fog burns off, so will you!!" She laughed heartily at her own witticism.
Before putting her sunglasses on, she took one more stroll around the spread blonde. April's muscles were beautifully defined and the sound of the small motors pulling at them made Penelope shiver with excitement. The show would commence momentarily and she could already feel the room heating. She retreated to the safety of the couch and placed a shaking hand to her damp pussy.
Fiddlesticks to May and June, she thought. I'll enjoy this show more alone. Her hand was furiously stroking her clit as she watched the girl struggle in the orange light.
"Tragically," Penelope intoned, wrapped in the thrall of climax, "the only person who even knew of your peril is nothing more than a purple oil slick and a few pearly whites at the bottom of a vat of my hydrochloric acid laced pea soup."
"Not quite, Lady Penelope." Barbara planted her feet firmly apart in the greenhouse door.
Lady Penelope spun around, momentarily stunned. "How could you escape my Schroedinger chamber of torture?" She leaped from the divan, instantly converting her pent up sexual energy into a wrath of anger, partially for being interrupted and partially failing to get rid of the pretty young crime fighter for good.
"I think one of the possibilities that you forgot to take into account was that I could escape. Since, as you pointed out, all things could have happened, I was bound to escape. Once the bat was out of the box, all other scenarios became moot." Barbara didn't really want to argue philosophy. But, she wasn't going to let Penelope Peasoup seize the initiative.
"May!! June!! Get in hear now!! I've got some homework for you!!" Penelope was already gliding across the floor towards Barbara, flexing her riding crop as she moved.
"Sorry, Penelope, I already took care of that assignment. They're spending the rest of the semester in detention." Barbara started to circle away from the scourge of the London underworld. She was surprised how light and fluid her movements were, considering that the villainess was pulling robberies, torturing victims and setting up elaborate devises continually for almost a day and a half.
"I suppose I'll just have score your test myself then." Penelope yanked off the end of her riding crop and revealed a thin steel blade, eighteen inches long. The morning sun reflected off it, momentarily blinding Barbara. With luck, Lady Peasoup thought, she might just get Batgirl on the grill with April to complete the morning's work. She would have to move quickly. The image of Batgirl spreadeagled and bound on the steel plate in reverse to April flashed through her mind.
Seeing her chance, Lady Penelope lunged forward. Barbara, sensing the attack, slipped to the side and delivered a vicious blow to Lady Penelope's ribs as she flew by. The punch hit in the armpit just above the lacy edge of Penelope's black 'Merry Widow' undergarment.
Feeling the hard contact with the open patch of skin and the gratifying "Ooommph" of lost wind, Barbara spun around to see where her quarry had landed. Instead, she was distracted by the bright light of day incinerating the dry foliage across the room. Just a few feet from the frantically struggling form of April.
"That's right, Batgirl, you're just in time to witness little blondie's bondage barbecue!!" The flames were crawling down the dead plants at an alarming rate as the morning sun crept over windowsill.
Barbara didn't even see Penelope get up. She was too busy trying to grab the small sword that lay on the steel turntable next to the struggling girl. She grabbed the handle and immediately hacked away at the ropes holding the girl's leather manacles. As each rope snapped, it let out an audible 'twang'. April needed no encouragement to crawl to safety.
"Batgirl! She's getting away!" April was near hysteria as she pulled the remnants of rope and manacles from her wrists. Barbara was briefly tempted to engage in pursuit, but she couldn't take the chance of leaving a victim alone in a booby trap filled lair.
"She won't get very far," Barbara explained as she led the girl down stairs to find some clothes. "You remember that poisonous sprinkler you warned me about? Well, take a look." She motioned to the arched window that filled the stairwell with the warm Gotham sun. They were just in time to see Penelope, still in her black undies and heels collapsing in the center of the great lawn.
"I was able to override the controls. I doubt she used anything deadly. Her kink was toying with her victims. She'll wake up on a jet back to Slutmore Prison."
Barbara would like to be the one to see her off. But she knew that Batman would have his usual press entourage there and the whole scene would end up with him asking about royalty checks and trying to cop a feel.
Besides, as usual, he'll take credit for catching her anyway. Barbara would like to stick around for the police. Unfortunately, that would mean turning April over to the authorities. Not that she hadn't earned it, but she seemed more of a dupe than a real criminal. The other two would have to face the music, but April was going to get lift to the bus station and a one-way fare home.
April gripped tightly at Barbara's waist as they wheeled the Batgirl-cycle through the early morning traffic of Gotham City. Barbara could hear the breath of her passenger as they waited for lights and she could feel the warmth of her body as April snugged up to her on the back of the bike. Her round breasts pressing against the thin fabric of her costume.
When they pulled up in front of the station, April slid off the back of the bike and faced her redheaded savior one last time. "Thanks for not turning me in, Batgirl. I'll always owe you for that and saving my life." Before Barbara realized what was happening, she felt the soft moist lips of the young girl pressing against her own. The two lingered there for a moment and then Barbara watched as April ran into the terminal, hands clutched to her face.
Barbara let out the clutch of the Harley and headed for home. Maybe I'll have Barbara Gordon give her a follow up call one day, she mused.