Subject: *NEW*:_Batgirl_vs._The_Crime...(5/5,FF,Bond,Adv)
From: "S.Sneakly" <sneakly@geocities.com>
Date: Sun, Oct 12, 1997 13:30 EDT
Message-id: <4815eli$9710121327@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
Here it is!!! The last (thank God ) chapter of Batgirl vs. The etc... It
used to be said in alt.sex.stories.d that you shouldn't bitch about the
writing unless you can do better. Well I think that anybody tries,
quickly learns that bitching is about as cruel thing as there is. This
story is around 20,000 to 25,000 words and took about ten months to
write. Did I have fun? Most of the time. Was it worth it? I think it
came
out O.K. Will I miss it? NO. It is time to move onto the next project.
When I posted chapter four, I was fortunate to get a review in "The
Annex Reviews" along side one of the all-time great stories, "The Perils
of Batgirl." I think it was great to be honored in such a way. Some
schmuck posted a complaint about the reviewer, LadyCrrh. He didn't like
that she was kink friendly and gave points for originality.
I wasn't doing much on the net at the time and only heard about it weeks
later in Deja-News. Here is my reply. If anyone wants to take the time
to read a story and then write a couple of hundred words in review, I
doubt any writer will complain. If they want to post it to Usenet,
great!!! I would take a couple of hundred considerate words (good or
bad) over a five word 'Fuck You.'
I got more letters asking about my story in the week before(200 hits) I
posted it to my website than in the week after (900 hits). People who
take the time to write are sacred in my book. If you don't like the
reviews of Celeste or LadyCrrh, don't read em. I avoid Michel Medvid
all the time.
I've read and enjoyed several Batgirl stories over the past few years,
notably those by The Weatherman and Mr.X.. If you like this story check
out my homepage at:
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/5268/
Finally, if you are under 18, DO NOT READ
*************************************************
_Batgirl_vs._the_Crime_School_for_Girls_
Part V
Cooking Class of Crime
by S.Sneakly (sneakly@geocities.com)
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 Barabara thought. 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 splitpeas 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 course 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 futily for a moment and looked at a small hole
opening in her boot.
Hydro-flouridic 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 rounds 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 blond was stretched out in front of
her. The leather shackles kept her young athletic build stretched to
it's limits. She was naked except for the lacy white panties that
covered her sex.
Lady Penelope let the sharp tip of her finger nail trace its way down
the length of the bound girls abdomen.
"In case your wondering, tuition is non-refundable!" She smirked with
satisfaction as hand slid under the shear 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 her
own twisted desires.
The circle of cold steel upon which she had bound the her student and
the damp fog laden air made the girl goose bump despite her fear.
Having spent many years lurking in the dark underbelly of Londinium'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." She 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." She smiled. "We don't call them
finishing schools for nothing!!!" She withdrew her fingers and licked
the come from each as if the scones had proved to crumbly for her tea.
Satisfied with her short rationalization, she reached over to her 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 girls fate,
ripping her limb from limb, inflicting unspeakable torture, or changing
the channel on the tele. 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 of Batgirl
interfering 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." brushing
a stray hair from April's face she continued.
"Tragically, your dieing 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 night 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 breathe 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 road 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 shimmying 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 Barabara 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 arrows 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 her self 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
the 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 blond 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 turn table rotated. As the girls face came into clear view,
Penelope admired the pretty blue eyes soft cheek bones 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 to knit-wit classmates?" Penelope looked at her watch,
lying on the table. "If they don't hurry up there 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 with out 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
"However, for your benefit, or rather, 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 wittism.
Before putting her sunglasses on, she took one more stroll around the
spread blond. Her muscles were beautifully defined and the sound of the
small motors pulling at them made Penelope shiver with excitement. The
show would be over 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.
Fuck 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 moaned, wrapped in the thrall of climax, "the
only person who even knows of your peril is nothing more than a purple
oil slick and a few pearly whites at the bottom of a vat of my
hydro-flouridic acid laced pea soup."
"Not quite, Lady Penelope." Barbara planted her feet firmly apart in
the greenhouse door.
Lady Penelope spun around. "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 was tired and felt like
crap. She 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 Londinium 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 guess I'll just have score your test myself then." She 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.
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 arm pit 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 saw 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 blondy's
bondage barbeque!!" The flames were crawling down the dead plants at an
alarming rate as the morning sun crept over window sill.
Barbara didn't even see Penelope get up. She was to 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 hold the girl's wrist. 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.
"With your classmates assistance, 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 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 Gorden give her a follow up call one day, she
mused.
The END
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