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From: Anndouglas@aol.com
Subject: AnnD: Batgirl And Robin - M/F - (1/4)
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The following is a work of erotic fiction and
includes scenes of consenting adults engaged in
sexual activities. It includes characters that are
copyrighted by DC Comics. This story is
intended for the non-commerical enjoyment of the
author and her friends. No copyright infringement is
intended and no profit will be made from the
distribution of this story.
Hello once again. As in the past, comments are both
appreciated and encouraged. Suggestions are also
welcome. Please respond by E-Mail as it makes it
easier for me to get your reaction. One thing I do
ask is that you now include your first name and age
in your comments. It gives me a better idea who my
audience is. Thanks and enjoy the story.
- Batgirl And Robin -
Part One
by Ann Douglas
“.......and on the social scene, Gotham’s best
and brightest will be found at the Gotham Civic
Center later tonight for Mayor Caruso’s Annual
Children’s Benefit. The premiere event of the
season, women the city over are still vying for a last
minute invitation to what promises to be the most
exciting night since......”
The voice of the radio announcer brought a
cheerful smile to Barbara Gordon as she again let
the warmth of the overhead shower splash across
her breasts. Not only was she one of the fortunate
few who would be going to the Mayor’s Benefit in a
few hours time, she would be escorted by a member
of the short list of Gotham City’s most eligible
bachelors. - Edward Kendall. In fact, when the
current list had come out last January, Kendall’s
name had appeared right below those of Isoruko
Yamaguci and Bruce Wayne.
Edward Kendall was the rising star of the
City Council. Well educated at the finest schools
both in this country and overseas, the 32 year old
was both handsome and charming. The great
grandson of “Black Jack” Kendall, Gotham’s
legendary turn of the century Mayor, Edward
Kendall was expected to be a front runner in the
next Mayoral election a mere two years away.
Running a soapy washrag between her legs,
Barbara recalled her first meeting with Ed a mere
four weeks before. It had been a Friday afternoon
and she was waiting outside City Hall for her father,
Police Commissioner James Gordon. As was their
custom, they were going to have an early dinner
together.
Barbara was greatly surprised when Ed had
come up to her and introduced himself. She had
seen him before of course, having attending many
city functions with her father. He told her that he
was a big supporter of her father and the job he’d
done with the Police Department over the years.
When James Gordon had finally appeared and told
her that he’d be unable to have dinner, Ed had
quickly offered to take his place.
Rising the last of the shampoo out of her
hair, Barbara would’ve been hard pressed to
remember what either of them had for dinner that
evening. All she could recall of their first date was
how deep were the blue of his eyes and how he
never seemed to take them off of her. That and the
fact that he had asked her out on a real date the
following evening.
One date led to another and it wasn’t long
before Barbara’s name was linked to Ed’s in the
gossip columns. Truth was that the image of a
couple didn’t really match the reality. It seemed like
there was always something that got in the way. As
one of the city’s shakers and movers, Ed Kendall
was always on 24 hour call. Then there was of
course, Barbara’s somewhat unusual hobby to add
to the problem.
Given the current state of her personal life,
again mostly due to the rather unusual way the 23
year old redhead spent most of her nights, the last
month had seemed almost like a dream. Barbara’s
last relationship had ended almost nine months ago,
her lover finally getting fed up with her many sudden
disappearances. She truly hoped that this time, the
relationship would have a more promising future.
Drying herself in front of the steam covered
mirror, Barbara took a few moments to take stock
of herself. She carefully examined the tiny mound of
red hair she had so carefully trimmed before getting
in the shower. If things worked out this evening as
she planned, Ed would have a more than ample
opportunity to appreciate her handiwork.
Next her attention shifted to the image of her
upper body, particularly that of her soft firm breasts.
While not exceeding large, they stood on their own
without support and even she had to admit they
were near perfect globes. She played with the pert
nipples for a few moments, smiling as they sprang to
life. They had always been very sensitive and given
her current state of arousal, it took only a soft touch
to bring them to erectness.
It had been quite some time since Barbara
had enjoyed the feel of a man tight against her.
There was only so much satisfaction she could get
from her fingers or the small battery powered
vibrator she kept hidden in her night table. Lately it
seemed like every sensual touch sent her hormones
raging.
Most people still tended to think of her as
the skinny little girl who had her nose buried in the
books when she graduated High School five years
ago. The conservative wardrobe she wore as the
Deputy Chief of Research at the Main Branch of the
Gotham City Library held maintain that image. In
actuality, ever since her first day in College, Barbara
had spent as much time in the gym as in the library.
The result being a lean yet muscular athletic form.
A form that unhappily, Edward had of yet
only had a sampling of. Hopefully, tonight that was
going to change.
Remembering the limo ride home from the
hockey game a few nights ago sent a warm flush
through Barbara’s body. Ed had a passion for
hockey that was second only to his passion for
politics. During the special exhibition game,
Barbara had watched the normally reserved
Councilman jump and shout like a little boy. It was
a fire she was determined to keep burning as the
night went on.
It had been late and the night was warm. A
few kisses quickly led to more adventurous actions
and it wasn’t long before Barbara’s dress was down
around her waist and Ed was partaking of her
delights. Surprised to find herself as horny as a high
school girl, Barbara had her hand down his pants
and was unzipping them to demonstrate her oral
skills only to be interrupted by the loud chimes of
his cellular phone.
A rather large water main break in his
district had brought the evening to an abrupt end,
leaving a rather aroused Barbara forced to take of
herself that evening.
Smiling at herself in the mirror, Barbara was
determined that tonight would have a much different
ending. And it wouldn’t be in the back seat of a
limousine, no many how plush. She had already
reserved a room for them at the Carlton Arms, one
of the finest hotels in the city. A late midnight
dinner with herself as desert.
“Babs, honey.” the naked woman said to her
reflection in a mirthful voice. “You are definitely a
woman who needs to get laid!”
Once in her bedroom, Barbara carefully laid
out the gown she’d borrowed for the evening. A
stunning emerald gown, it was far more than she
could’ve ever afforded. It had been a gift from once
of her closest and oldest friends, Sara Lynn Collins.
The outfit was rather daring, and Barbara
was certainly not was well endowed as Sara Lynn.
Still, it would make the most of what she had,
especially after her friend had it altered to fit her.
Barbara had protested at first but Sara Lynn had
insisted. After all, it’s not like I’m going to get any
more invitations to all those society functions, she
had proclaimed. So if Barbara didn’t take it, it was
going to wind up going to Goodwill.
Barbara smiled at the thought of this
designer original handing on a dummy in the
window of a second hand shop. Sara Lynn
would’ve done it too. she had that kind of sense of
humor. That’s why they had been friends for so
long, ever since they had meet in freshman year of
high school. In fact, it was Sara Lynn who was
responsible for her getting the coveted job at the
Gotham Main Library right out of college. Her
father sat on the Board of Trustees and wouldn’t
deny his little girl anything. That was of course
before Daddy’s little girl had announced to the
world that she preferred other women over men,
sending a shock wave thought their social set. Most
of her friends had deserted her, but Barbara had
stood fast. A few snickered that it was because the
mousy librarian had her own lesbian attraction to the
knockout blonde. In truth, Barbara simply didn’t
see any reason why she should lose so good a friend
simply because she preferred bedmates of the same
gender. Mentally, she reminded herself to write
Sara Lynn a thank you note it the morning, letting
her know how the night turned out.
Laid out next to the sheer green outfit was a
pair of the sexiest bra and panties Barbara could
find. They were expensive as well, but at least still
within her means. The bra, what little there was of
it, would be near invisible beneath her evening
gown. The real benefit of it would be when that
dress came off. Likewise, the panties would barely
cover even her tightly trimmed red hair, not to
mention the open slit in the center.
Putting on the lingerie, Barbara quickly
realized that both pieces were as fragile as they
looked. As much as she had paid for them, they
would probably only last a single wearing. Well she
thought with a smile, they only have to last until
morning. The smile turned to a wicked grin as she
amended that thought to only “halfway to morning.”
“Beep .... beep ... beep .... beep ... beep...”
“Oh damn!” Barbara said out loud as the
unexpected sound of her beeper suddenly sounded
from her night table. “Not now.”
The Senior Administrator for the Library
was away for the weekend and it was Barbara’s turn
to be on call. Hopefully, it was something that a
quick phone call would take care of.
Quickly she crossed the room, picked up the
beeper and looked at the digital display. Her green
eyes opened wide when she saw the message.
“Oh shit, not now!” she exclaimed.
In appearance, the small black beeper was
like all the other Waynetech pagers carried by the
library staff. But if you were to take it apart, the
microcircuitry would tell a different tale. Aside from
being coded to receive messages for Barbara
Gordon, a secondary circuit had been installed to
allow her to intercept messages sent on a private
unauthorized frequency. Coded so that only the
recipient would understand the message, the
translation sent a chill through Barbara’s near naked
form.
For a second time she scrolled the message,
until there was no way she could ignore the
meaning. It was an emergency signal. A simple two
digit code followed by a set of coordinates. Built
into the small unit was a receiver for a global
positioning system that was accurate to a couple of
hundred feet. What she found surprising was that
the end of the message was missing. There was no
sender id.
“I guess it could be a mistake.” The redhead
said to herself, knowing full well that she didn’t
believe it. It was just a failed attempt to allow her
keep the fantasy that her evening wasn’t ruined for a
few more seconds.
There was no question of her ignoring the
signal. No thought that someone else would surely
respond. That decision had been made two years
before on the night of the annual Policeman’s
Costume Ball. The details as fresh in her mind as
they had been that cold night.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*
It was going to be a surprise for her father.
It had started out as simple as that. Image the look
on the Police Commissioner’s face when midnight
came and the mask of the girl in the Batgirl costume
came off to reveal his own daughter. Wouldn’t that
be something.
But fate had a way of intervening. Enroute
to the ball she’d had car trouble and because of it
was a little late. She almost didn’t notice the
limousine pulled off the road. When she did, there
hadn’t been any thought of ignoring someone who
needed help. She’d been brought up with a strong
sense of public service.
It turned out that the car wasn’t broken
down, it had been forced off the road. Barbara had
stumbled into an attempted kidnapping. Without a
thought for her own safety, the girl in the purple and
gold costume jumped into the fray. The hours spent
in the gym and dojo paid off as she quickly
dispatched two of the five assailants. To both her
surprise and relief, the intended victim and his
chauffeur suddenly came to life and overcame the
remaining thugs. Not the sort of thing she would’ve
expected of a man of Bruce Wayne’s reputation.
Barbara couldn’t believe the incredible rush
she’d gotten during the fight. That and the sense of
satisfaction that she’d made a difference.
It brought to mind a night when she was 16
and spied into the library to see her father conferring
with The Batman. The teenage had been totally
infatuated with the dark cloaked crusader. He stood
6’2” with a physique that no amount of Hollywood
padding could duplicate. Barbara sat there in the
dark, listening to his deep tones. Her father had
described The Batman many times to her, but no
description could match the reality. The people of
Gotham were of many minds about the Darknight,
but no one could ever question the fact that he did
indeed make a difference.
The memory fresh in her mind, she didn’t
hesitate when the millionaire playboy had ask her
name.
“You can call me Batgirl.” she’d said with a
smile before disappearing into the night.
Yet to this day, she had never really
understood the silly smile on Bruce Wayne’s face as
she said those words. It was as if he was enjoying
some private joke.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*
“Might as well get this over with.” Barbara
said to herself after pausing for the few moments it’d
taken for all those memories to rush through her
mind.
The call to Ed Kendall had been both brief
and loud. The Councilman was somewhat
unsatisfied with Barbara’s statement that an
emergency had come up that forced her to cancel
their date, and no she couldn’t really explain what
the emergency was. During the brief conversation,
Barbara got the distinct impression that Ed was
more upset that he had to go to the dinner solo
rather than being concerned that she had some sort
of unknown problem. When his car passed into a
tunnel and cut off the cellular signal, Barbara let out
a sigh of relief. Tomorrow she’d make it all right
again.
Dropping the phone back on the cradle,
Barbara immediately pulled her city street atlas off
the bookshelf and opened it to the coordinates
contained in the emergency signal.
“Craig and Yvonne.” she said to herself and
a manicured finger traced the outline of the
intersection of the large map. “Only about a mile
from here.”
Leaving the book where it lay, Barbara
quickly began to change clothes. Already, her mind
was shifting gears, putting her into what she always
referred to as her “combat mode”.
Quickly replacing the delicate underwear
with a solid plain white sports bra and panties,
Barbara walked up to the natural brick rear wall of
her apartment and pressed on a loose brick on the
bottom row. With a soft sliding sound of brick
against brick, a small three foot section of the wall
gave way. Behind it was a small room leading to an
abandoned freight elevator. When the building was
built back in the 1920’s, the first floor had been a
notorious speakeasy. The hidden room and elevator
had been used for storage in case of a raid.
About the size of a walk in closet, a function
that later tenants had used it for, it was just large
enough for a small changing table. Hanging on a
hook on the wall was a modified version of that
purple and gold costume she’d worn to the costume
ball.
Quickly she donned it, enjoying the feel of
the soft lycra against her flesh. The costume itself
had been a gift from The Batman after she had
helped save the life of an visiting official last year.
Identical to her original costume, both the cape and
key parts of the costume itself had reinforced
sections of a lightweight kelvar compound. As
effective as the large bulky vests worn by Gotham’s
Finest, the material was incredibly expensive.
Barbara had once figured it out and if she’d paid for
the costume it would’ve been over five thousand
dollars. Stored in a foot locker under the table was
a duplicate suit. She sometimes wondered if Batman
actually paid for the outfits or someone made them
for him free. Perhaps someone he’d helped at some
time or another.
Adjusting the gold utility belt around her
waist, Barbara then reached for her cowl which
rested on a Styrofoam head. Inside the cowl was a
shoulder length red haired wig, of a color just a few
shades darker than her own natural hair. Just
another part of the illusion. Once that was securely
in place, she took a final moment to check her
reflection in the full length mirror attached to the
wall. Batgirl was ready to roll.
Closing the small brick door before heading
down the freight elevator, Batgirl took a fleeting last
look at the unworn gown draped across her bed.
“Another night, Babs.” she sighed to herself.
Two minutes later the Bat-Cycle roared into
the warm night air, exiting one of the maze of
interconnecting alleys behind her building. Her gold
and purple cape flapped in the breeze as she headed
toward the waterfront. Batgirl loved the feel of the
wind in her face, almost as mush as she normally
loved the vibration of the powerful engine between
her legs. Tonight, the oscillation only helped to add
to her frustrations. Turning into a side street, she
tried to concentrate and focused her thoughts on
finding the source of the emergency signal. She
suddenly remembered her father mentioning that The
Batman was out of town for a few days. Could the
signal be some kind of trap? Should she call for a
police back-up?
“I guess I’d better decide.” she said to
herself as she pulled her cycle to a sudden stop.
Once, long ago, the neighborhood was a
bustling center of commerce. That was in the days
when Gotham Harbor was filled with ships bringing
goods to and from the far corners of the globe.
Now all that stood in mute testament to those days
were two long abandoned warehouses on opposite
corners. Each had a few lights showing through
dirty windows. The signal could’ve come from
either one.
Pondering her decision for a few moments,
Batgirl decided to check out the situation before
hitting the panic button. A faded sign over the
closest building read Pennyworth Imports, as good a
place to start as any.
Cement blocks sealed the main entrance, so
walking through the front door was definitely out.
Not that she had ever planned that approach. The
four story building had a fire escape, but it looked
too dilapidated to even hold her weight.
“Guess I’ll have to do this the hard way.”
Batgirl said to herself.
Removing a small but powerful air gun from
her utility belt, Batgirl fitted it with a grappling hook
and silk line. A soft pop filled the air as a powerful
air cartridge sent the three sided metal attachment
high up into the air until it cleared the upper ledge of
the dark building. A quick pull on the line sent the
hook skidding across the roof until it attached itself
to a drain pipe. After a hard tug which assured the
purple suited heroine that it would support her
weight, she took a deep breath and began to walk up
the wall.
Pausing at the first lighted window on the
second floor, Batgirl glanced inside - the room was
empty. Quickly she moved onward and upward.
Batgirl had lost track of the number of
windows she’d spied into over the last few years of
nocturnal patrols. How many windows and the
secrets they held. But among the hundreds, two
would always stand out in her memory.
The first occurred only a blocks from her
own apartment. She was climbing over the rooftops
on Douglas Street when she realized she was
passing the apartment of her supervisor, Donna
Latore. The temptation to look inside proved too
much to resist.
Imagine her shock when she spied three
women laying nude on the living room floor, hotly
engaged in a demonstration of lesbian lust. It was
all Batgirl could do to pull herself away from the
large bay window when she recognized the graying
woman in the center of the threeway as Donna. She
had never been able to look at her since then without
having that image come to mind.
The second had been just a few weeks ago
when she was crossing the balcony of an exclusive
west side apartment house. She’d spotted a figure
in black coming out of one of the other apartments
and had taken off after him. At first she’d only
glanced inward for a second, but what she’d
witnessed caused her to stop and look again.
Sitting on the couch that faced the balcony
doors was a boy who couldn’t be more than 16
years old. He was totally nude. Kneeling in front of
him was a gray haired, heavy set woman who was
equally naked. Forgetting for the moment all about
the burglar, Batgirl watched for the longest time as
the 40ish woman took the boy into her mouth and
performed an energetic oral act which soon erupted
in a messy climax. Then, her face covered with the
milky white residue, the woman kissed the boy
hotly, replacing his now softening cock with a more
than eager tongue. Before vanishing in the night,
Batgirl couldn’t help but note that both boy and
woman bore more than a passing resemblance to
each other.
Only a week later, Barbara was reading the
social pages of the Gotham Times when she saw a
photograph of both of them, this time impeccably
clothed. The caption read, Mrs. Diane Worthington,
shown here with her son, Roger, was one of the
Mothers of the Year honored by the Daughters of
the Revolution at their annual awards dinner. It was
almost a half hour before she could stop laughing.
Her thoughts again turned serious as she
neared the third floor and the second lit window.
Inside was a table covered with an empty pizza box
and several take out cartons. Not that unusual, it
could belong to a watchman. Some of these old
building still had them to help prevent squatters.
That idea quickly faded when she saw the
dark shape of an uzi machine pistol hanging over the
chair. Not exactly standard issue for a rent a cop.
Batgirl jerked back and flattened against the
ledge as a shadow passed across the window. Her
move was instinctive, sudden enough that she was
sure she hadn’t been seen. She waited a few
moments, then carefully peered inside once more.
There was no sign of the dark figure and the weapon
no longer hung across the back of the chair.
“Maybe I should called for that backup after
all.” she thought to herself.
Her hand slid down to the compartment of
her utility belt to were she normally carried her
batcomlink. All she had to do was switch to the
secondary band and the emergency signal she
broadcast would also be picked up by the police.
“Oh shit!” Batgirl said to herself as she held
the small transmitter in her hand and pressed the
transmit button.
Long seconds passed as she watched the
LED display flash red instead of green. The
batteries were dead. She was on her own.
“Mother always said there’d be days like
this.” she said to herself in a false bravado.
With a shrug of her shoulders, the caped
woman pressed away from the ledge and continued
her journey upward. Her original plan still held, the
best place to enter the building would be the roof.
The lock on the roof door was so rotten that
it only took a hard kick to knock it open. Silently
she made her way down the stairwell, taking a few
moments to familiarize herself with the layout of the
building. This came in the form of an old fire
department evacuation plan that still hung in a
shattered case on the fourth floor wall.
The top two floors of Pennyworth Imports
was all office space and from the look of the layers
of dust on the floor had been unoccupied for years.
The third floor, the one on which Batgirl had seen
that shadow consisted of one room offices that lined
a balcony set up. If you stood at the railing you
could look down at the vast open storage area of the
first floor below.
Stealthily, Batgirl made her way around the
balcony perimeter, staying low enough so that she
couldn’t be seen from below.
Half way around the perimeter, Batgirl could
hear the sound of voices below her. They were too
unintelligible to be understood, but gave her a
direction. Practically crawling, she moved toward
them.
The voices became clearer and louder as she
neared what had once been the loading dock.
Clearing the last corner, she was able to look down
and see the speakers.
“Robin!” Batgirl exclaimed under her breath
as she spotted the red and green figure handing from
an overhead support beam.
The Teen Wonder was handcuffed and
gagged, but he didn’t appear to be hurt. Batgirl
removed a small pair of high powered binoculars
from her belt. The glasses had been a gift from her
father on her last birthday after she had mentioned
that she was planning to take up bird-watching. As
she brought the expensive lenses into focus, Batgirl
wondered if other crimefighters suffered from lack
of funds as often as she did.
“If I ever write my memoirs,” she mused as
the image cleared before her. “I should call them
How to be a crimefighter on a budget.”
The image of Robin now closed to within a
few feet, confirming her original impression that he
was unhurt. The crossbeam he was handcuffed to
was just high enough for him to be suspended two
inches off the floor. Some sort of soiled rag had
been shoved into his mouth, cutting off any protests
he might have made.
Three women stood around Robin and
Batgirl turned her attention to the oldest. As her
features filled her field of vision, she recalled an
entry from the bootlegged copy she’d made of her
father’s crime files.
“Ma Parker.” she said to herself as she
matched the gray haired woman with her mug shot.
Searching her memory, Batgirl recalled some
of the facts that appeared beneath the mug shots of
Sarah May Parker. Age 54, first arrested in 1960
for her involvement in the death of her husband
Peter. Twenty-sex years her senior, the well to do
businessman had managed to sire two daughters
before he died from the bite of a poisonous spider.
While she had managed to avoid a conviction, it was
enough for his powerful family to get her excluded
from his estate. In the town they’d grown up in, the
law was whatever the powerful Parker Clan said it
was. Two months later, she’d appeared at the
payroll office of Parker Industries and robbed it at
gun point. Over the next thirty years she’d amassed
a record that including armed robbery, kidnapping
and extortion. Eventually, her daughter’s followed in
her footsteps.
On her right and left stood younger women
who’s resemblance left no doubt that they were her
daughters. While Sarah May had been a rather
attractive young woman, transforming into a hefty
older woman - both daughter’s had skipped right to
that stage. Large breasted and husky, they looked
like either could fit right in with a gang of
longshoremen.
Both were armed, as was Ma Parker. The
short haired brunette on the right, who Batgirl
would later identify as Betty Sue, carried a sawed
off shotgun and a small snub nose revolver in her
belt. Her sister, Mary Beth, preferred the more
powerful 45 caliber automatic. Slung over her
shoulder, the long haired sandy blonde carried a
M-16. She’d spent 6 months in the Army before
being tossed out with a dishonorable discharged,
taking from it a preference to military hardware.
The absence of the uzi she had spotted
before reminded Batgirl that Parker had later had a
third daughter, one which would be in her early
twenties about now. She had to have been the
shadow upstairs. Until she was sure where she was,
or unless she could get all four of them together, the
crimefighter would have to bide her time. Hopefully
they wouldn’t do anything that would force her to
move prematurely.
--
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