Batgirl vs. The Crime School for Girls

Part 1: Dicks at the Docks

"Serves Bruce right", Barbara thought. Nobody could figure out where that pompous ass had dumped all those millions. Knowing Bruce, Barbara thought, probably some stupid hole in the ground.

Barbara turned her attentions from the Wayne fortune to her own. Digging through old copies of The Gotham Journal of Medicine she found an old monograph. It was something she had been looking for for a while. It was entitled, "Castrati and Eunuchs: a Brief History of Men with Brief Briefs."

She didn't like Robin very much, but his new lot in life seemed unusually cruel. He and Batman had been captured by King Tut, who planned to make them eunuchs to serve his moll, Cleopatra. The plan essentially succeeded. Batman and Robin, after capture, went under the knife.

Batgirl managed to rescue them shortly afterwards. But, as usual, Batman left Robin to suffer the worst, running off to the Batcave with his balls in an ice bucket. Batgirl drove Robin to Gotham General as fast as she could, but between the motorcycle ride and the underfunded hospital not having the tools to reattach his family jewels... Batman, of course, managed to save his own family line since the Batcave had the Batmicrosurgical Batsuite. But Robin, the poor sot, was now forced to go through life sucking up to his fair-weather boss, because there were few prospects for a super-hero known as the 'Ball-less Wonder'.

It was classic Batman. Barbara had learned a lot about the "Dark Knight" since she started her career as Batgirl. She used to think that Robin would be the first to enter a hide-out or a swarm of crooks because he was younger, more agile, and less heavily armored than Batman. The more she worked with them the more she realized that Robin was mostly cannon fodder.

Batman would let the villains get worn down beating the crap out of the little teenager, and then step in at the last minute to save the day. All very heroic. He had also been more than willing to let her get the shit kicked out of her, except that she saw it coming. She'd realized that he was probably like that when he started hinting that he wanted licensing money for using the "Bat-anything" logo.

She had started crime-fighting for mostly altruistic reasons. Sure she dug the adventure aspect, the kinky clothes, and the fact that the Police Commissioner (a male chauvinist pig) was her father. The Commissioner had hated the idea of women in police work. He hated the idea that his daughter (UN-married) studied criminal psychology and practised judo. He also hated the idea that she graduated Phi Beta Kappa and won the national judo-karate championship three years in a row. In fact he was not much on ideas in general.

Fortunately, she took after her mother.

It was in fact Jim Gordon and his cronies (including Batman) that kept her from getting any civil job beyond librarian. Originally, she planned to move somewhere else, but quitting had never been her style. Instead, Batgirl was born.

BatGIRL was not her idea. At twenty-one she was no longer a girl, but that was what the commissioner's office was referring to her as. At the time, she thought it was a take-it-or-leave-it situation. She wouldn't have allowed that now, but she had learned to live with it. Besides, the "girl" moniker was a little more feminine than "Batdyke" (Robin's vote, he thought any woman who didn't drop her drawers for him immediately was a dyke), Batbeav' (Chief O'Hara) or "Batbuns" (Mayor Linseed). Batman overruled them all: he figured it would be bad PR if they were too overt in belittling her. Instead, they christened her "Batgirl."

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, transforming it into the 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, largish 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 Batshark 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.

Surprisingly, Robin was already parked on the Commissioner's couch, his arm resting on a cooler labeled "Batbeer". As she walked across the room he pitched his first empty in to the "Batbasket." He used to pitch his empties in the corner, but when Barbara's father asked him to use the waste basket, he insisted that it must be one of the licensed "Batbaskets."

Since his "operation", Robin had started to binge drink, and was frequenting bars near City Hall. He was probably doing that when the Batsignal went on. The citizenry in the bar (more likely the bar keep) probably insisted that he respond. The Batsignal was used only when Batman was away from the Batphone, so it was unlikely that The Bat himself would show up.

"Hello Batgirl! Thanks for coming!" Commissioner Gordon was relieved that at least one crime buster had shown up sober. He hadn't liked Batgirl when she had first appeared, but over time he had softened his view some. He considered her more reliable than the Dynamic Duo, especially after that whole King Tut incident. When she first started bringing in the bad guys, Gordon was firmly with the other testosterone freaks. But over time he realized that she didn't make demands of his financially strapped department, no special phone lines, search lights or autograph machines. She simply showed up when there was a project, did what she could and left until the next time.

"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 lie 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 Londinium", he handed the paper across to her. Robin pop open another Black Label (Dark Beer for the Dark Knight!!!). "It's from Ireland Yard. 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 Londinium was a tremendous embarrassment amongst the Londinium underworld", she observed. Barbara scanned down the letter.

"Sir, this letter was dated six weeks ago!!"

"Yes, it was misdirected into the Batmail. I'm afraid the only thing we've done so far is send Londinium 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."

"No, I think we could allow that if Batman doesn't have need of it." O'Hara looked across at Robin to see if he would object.

Robin let out a deep guttural belch, "Errr, I think Batman would like to run the letter through the Batcomputer", he sought his brain for a moment for a good reason to deny the girl use of the letter. "Uhmmm, to check for signs of tampering. You know it may've been sent to distract us from the real crime!"

"A red herring?!" Chief O'Hara said, as if he really believed it a possibility.

"No thanks, I don't eat fish." Robin looked at Batgirl, "At least not in public." He gave her an overly theatrical wink.

"A mimeograph will suffice", Barbara wasn't in the mood to deal with drunks.

Collecting her copy, Batgirl headed home. She didn't need the 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 Ireland Yard revealed that Lady Peasoup had escaped from Slutmore Prison. Disappearing in a mysterious fog, she was spirited away from the prison grounds by persons unknown. Ireland Yard later traced her to the luxury liner Queer 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 Queer 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, the sooner the better. It was already after 10:00 PM and the docks would be nearly empty. Perfect for a nighttime reconnaissance.

She thought back to the time a few months ago when she was trying to track down Catwoman, who had purloined a set of Bengali tigerskin rugs from the Sultan of Bengali, when he was visiting Gotham. Batgirl tracked her down to a lair beneath the Wet Pussy 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, Catwoman had the homecourt advantage. She maneuvered Batgirl over a cleverly hidden trap door. 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 one of her catnap bombs in.

Barbara woke up to find herself lying on her side, elbows and hands tied her back, and her legs pulled up into a strict hog-tie. Standing around her were Catwoman and three of her kittens. Catwoman knelt down and ran her ebony hand over Batgirl's exposed tummy. She let her long nails slide over the soft white skin. They left four white tracings in her flesh.

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 as to allow another entertaining pounce, or to dine quickly.

"Our flying mouse has finished her catnap!" She eyed Batgirl suspiciously, "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!!" Batgirl realized that Catwoman didn't hold the Batman in very high regard either.

As she toyed with the helpless Batgirl, Catwoman noticed a damp spot forming in the purple crotch of her batoutfit.

"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 effectiveness of the Bengali Fur Trap. Kittens, let's make sure our guest is as uncomfortable as possible."

Batgirl soon found herself tied spread-eagle on one of the stolen rugs. Her wrists and ankles were anchored to the floor through the limbs of the tiger skin. As Batgirl struggled against the bonds, Catwoman explained the device's delicious simplicity. Catwoman would lace up the skin, enclosing Batgirl completely. Then, as Batgirl struggled to escape, the self-tightening laces would slowly contract, crushing Batgirl in their warm and furry grip. Apparently, 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 had inserted an electronic dildo of her own design into Batgirl's snatch (the 'Bat-snatch' she called it). It had motion detectors built in, so whenever Batgirl stopped struggling it would 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 spread-eagle in the slowly contracting skin, suffering forced orgasm after forced orgasm. Catwoman toyed with herself as she watched her hated adversary being crushed. For a while, she lay next to the bound heroine, feeling Batgirl's tired body quake with each progressively more deadly orgasm.

The Bengali Fur 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 upstairs, 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 had a chance to replace the worn leather thongs on the 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 knows how to make one mean dildo. Barbara kept that nasty vibrator in a box under her bed.

Part 2: Pursuit to Pinkston Palisades

She struggled and kicked at her bonds. If she pushed out hard with her feet, the Dick Stick would pull the buzzing dildo about half-way out her body. 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 smooth metal toy slid back inside her, Barbara let out a muffled groan as she 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.

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 ropework 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 roll onto her stomach or stop her head from resting on the cold, dew-covered rail.

She lay there, lost in a twilight of fatigue and ceaseless orgasm. She unclenched her fist, and let her hand slide on the smooth rope connecting her bound wrists to her ankles. She felt the rope briefly, lost in dream, without 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 through the material of her gloves and was sure she must be mistaken.

With some effort she was able grab 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.

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 pussy. 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 scissor.

She solidified her resolve not to succumb quietly to her imminent defeat. 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 she fought for freedom the dildo would grind her to a 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. A new rush of juices lubricated her as she came. The orgasm could only be described as paralyzing. She could not move the stick any 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 that by that some miracle she hadn't toppled over. She was still precariously balanced between her head and heals.

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 rumbling of the train was slowly transforming from a sensation to an audible hum.

Barbara fought on, heedless of the painfully deep penetration. She hooked the tip of her thumb over the tab on her belt. She heard a tiny 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 up by a train.

Once the capsule had expended itself, Barbara tipped back onto her side. She badly needed relief from the throbbing pain of the Dick Stick. She extended her feet until the 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, eventually making it weak enough to break.

She kept working at the 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 had landed on her side so that she was basically in her starting position. Facing the approaching train, her head lying 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 the its filthy destination without ever knowing the drama of this struggling young woman, bound and gagged, tied across this dark remote siding.

Not fucking 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 the ropes didn't budge. She pulled her feet back again, driving the dildo back into her pussy. The smooth metal slid smoothly into her body. Immediately she kicked out again, straining at the limits of her hog-tie. The ropes groaned slightly as she 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 she hadn't noticed 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 the train crew saw her, 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 wrists 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. Batman was more than capable of standing amidst the wreckage of a destroyed building, hospital or orphanage and declaring it a victory for humanity, even though the villains escaped, lives were lost and everything was easily preventable. Barbara just lacked that hypocritical bent. She would always be overshadowed by the egotistical platitudes Batman showered upon himself.

She recalled the time that she had rescued him from the Joker. He immediately held an impromptu news conference, unaware that a large green baseball bat was protruding from his swollen rectum. The local press favored him by failing to mention that in their press reports. Instead they said that, "despite grievous injuries, the Dark Knight made time to alert the public to the dangers of the criminal elements in Gotham City."

She also recalled the time that she herself needed extrication from one of the Riddler's devices. Batman had refused to untie her, insisting that it was a crime scene and could not be disturbed until the police forensic unit had looked at it. They used four rolls of film just to photograph her tied up. It was only at the insistence of her father that officers stopped using the pictures as a screensavers and desktop wallpapers. She still had her own website (truth be told, she visited it occasionally).

It was the only time that she ever saw Batman worry about preserving evidence. That God-damned Bat-computer had shred more useful clues in any given month than Batman had provided to prosecutors in any given year. That was one reason that crooks like the Penguin, Riddler, Joker, Catwoman and even the lamer ones like Egghead were able to return to the streets. The only reason that Lord Phogg and Lady Penelope had been given any hard time was that Batman and Robin had been so late getting in on the capture. They simply didn't get any opportunities to touch evidence.

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 started to visualize how the scene of her tied in tight bondage, wriggling on the train tracks must have looked. The ropes were still dissolving from their exposure the oxidant, but the progress was slow. 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 body, driving her to orgasm 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 soon as Barbara had worked enough slack into the bonds around her wrists, she reached around and started to finger herself. The skin of her 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 which she had just suffered through. She brought herself to orgasm almost immediately. It was a powerful and intense one, much like the ones she had with Dick Stick deep inside. She liked it so much she indulged in another.

After satisfying her needs, Barbara resumed her efforts to extricate herself from the web of knots that Lady Penelope had created. Barbara was impressed with the quality of ropework 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 her hands. 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 onto 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 herself 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 started to draw 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, she thought, 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 notice it, 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 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 businesses elsewhere. As far as Barbara knew the Pinkston holdings were still dormant, the factories and warehouses all boarded up. Lady Penelope could be hiding in any one of them.

But, Barbara mused, Lady Penelope fancies herself 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 school mistress, 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 lose 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 the 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 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 building, peering in through the windows, being careful to avoid detection.

After covering most of the third floor, Barbara came to a small turret room on the north-west corner. 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 a 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 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 crashed to the floor. She was a petite blonde, perhaps only twenty and barely five feet tall. Her long hair had been braided into pigtails and she was dressed in a 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 straps on her knees were secured to the top of one chair leg, while her ankles were tied diagonally to the bottom of the opposing legs. A broad piece of black rubber went around her face from her nose to chin, muffling her pleas. A studded collar anchored her neck to the wood back of the chair.

The bonds were tight, but it didn't look like Lady Penelope had included any of her usual diabolical toys. Barbara ran to the girl and started to undo the straps 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 save 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. She was too preoccupied with the problem of trying to get herself and her rescued hostage out of Pinkston Palisades to see April picking up the tea pot. She was just starting to turn when the bone china pot exploded on her cowl and sent her crashing unconscious to the floor.

Part 3: Batgirl's Van de Graaff Spot

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 skirt with polished black riding boots. She was slowly fondling her riding crop as she watched her victim 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 ropework was impeccable. Barbara looked around, trying hard to hide her panic. The hearth was twelve feet wide and over eight feet high. She was bound in an intricate lacework of gold sash cords. Binding her ankles, knees and waist. The gold cords securely framed her breasts and a loop of sash was coiled around her neck.

"Yes, that would be most interesting. Batgirl flambé. I bet that you'd make a wonderful snap-crackle-pop." She scratched her neck with 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 text books 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 ropework seemed. Before she knew it, she was focusing all her efforts into the diabolic web of rope.

"That's right Batgirl, struggle! Struggle hard!" She was rubbing the butt of her 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 slip knots. 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.

"I've heard that before", she 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." She 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 young victim. 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 ropework 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.

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 breathe 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 cum-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 overripe 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 meantime, let's 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.

"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 a bargain bin.

"Hmmm... what does this do?" She pulled out a long metallic dildo. Near the top of the shaft was a 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 laid 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 two 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 fly wheel. 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 good 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 Barbara's still moist sex was fully exposed. Penelope spent several minutes adjusting the ropework 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 de Graaff 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 de Graaff 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 has 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 cinch tighter.

"I never thought of you as a noisy lover, Batgirl. But I guess learning is an ongoing experience." She hopped off the mat and ran over to her toy chest. When she returned she had a small bundle of things. 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 as 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." 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 then 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 Mistress 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: 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 apart, 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 pony tails. 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." June announced with the air of a senior cadet.

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.

Part 4: Schrödinger's Batgirl

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, unladylike 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 a small doorless 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. Mottled shadows danced across the crude masonry. 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 guidewires 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. June, being the strongest, forced Barbara's gloved hands into a cross while May looped the rope around her wrists. She soon had them tightly wound in a dense coil.

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 as her students stood the struggling Batgirl up. Taking the last few feet of rope, April, May and June finished tying Barbara's wrists to the hook.

Once Barbara was made fast, the four villains pulled in unison, hoisting Barbara aloft. The course 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 her 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 Schrödinger?" 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 Schrödinger? I thought not!" She waved her riding crop with a great flourish. "Herr Doctor Schrödinger was a Nobel Prize winning physicist. His expertise in quantum mechanics makes him a legend among 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 'Schrödinger's Cat.'

"In quantum theory, things can exist in 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 truly been committed?" Penelope was 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 not decaying and allowing the cat to live, the cat would persist in both states until somebody opened the box to look."

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 giant strainer, maybe part of a wine press, 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 and wrapped her arm around Barbara's thighs. Pulling her over, she rubbed her cheek against the soft fabric of her 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 it had been subjected to.

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 torch light glowed on the massive clock work 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 Orthus, after the mythological two-headed dog. 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 an education so that I could get a better job! The ad said, 'learn book-making'... 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 my 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 Londinium, people wait for the chimes of old Ben to know what time it is. This is going to be your time keeper. 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 lyrcra 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. Barbara was always an edge player, and this type of edge play certainly was as intense as it could get. She could feel herself quiver as the intense climax burned her weak body. In spite of all the diabolic devices and fiendish sexual tortures Lady Penelope had subjected 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 an earsplitting screech. She immediately turned it off.

"It vibrates at an ultrasonic frequency that has innumerable uses. I'm sure you've heard of ultrasonic cleaners for jewelry. It cleans because the high frequency vibration liquifies the debris on the surface. The more energy in the process the more you can liquify." 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 twenty-five second burst every five minutes. The frequency I programmed it for is exactly the same frequency your neurons operate at. Within seconds of its start, you will be brought to a struggling orgasm." She used her still pussy soaked hand to slide it into Barbara's stretch pants. The soft padding on the diabolical gizmo contoured neatly to Barbara's sex.

Lady Penelope headed toward the small arched exit. She paused at a large black lever protruding from the floor. She pulled 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 won't get away?" 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 was deftly plopping 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.

"If Herr Doctor Schrödinger's idea applies to two possibilities, then why not more? Ehhh Batgirl???" She laughed heartily as she set the last stone in place, sealing Batgirl inside.

Through the thick wall Barbara could hear Penelope shout, "I'll be thinking of you as I lay in my bed Dear Girl!"

Part 5: Cooking Class of Crime

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 angel look 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.

Hydrofluoric 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 bonds as it began tormenting her. Her pussy ached as it seemed to disappear in a 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 her 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.

She looked at April. The chesty 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 finger nail trace its way down the length of the bound girl's abdomen.

"In case you're 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 anyone 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 a good way to satiate her own twisted desires.

The circle of cold steel upon which she had bound 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 cum from each as if the scones had proved too 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 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 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 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 rode the girl like that until she brought herself to a vicious climax.

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 in from head to toe 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 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 knew 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 her needs and started chipping at the quick-hardening mortar that blocked the exit.

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 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 two 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 anyway." 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 convex lenses. Each glass will now focus the light of the early morning sun oton 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. 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 hydrofluoric 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 Schrödinger chamber of torture???" She leapt from the divan, instantly converting her pent-up sexual energy into a wrath of anger, partially for being interrupted and partially for failing to get rid of the pretty young crimefighter 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 here now!! I have 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 their assignments. 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 had been pulling off robberies, torturing victims, and setting up elaborate devises continually for almost a day and a half.

"I guess I'll just have to 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 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 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 blondie'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 too busy trying to grab the small sword that lay on the steel turntable next to the struggling girl. She grabbed the handle and began hacking at the ropes that held 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 downstairs 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 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 a 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.