Batgirl stood surrounded by men. The men were armed and dangerous; each suit hid a gun, every boot a dagger. She knew the men very well of course. This was an old style mafia family, now lead by a Mr. HotShit and his band of cousins and brother in laws and sons. She was the only girl in the room.
Most of the men stood slowly, in a stoned daze, for they had drank to heavily off the liquor she had drugged. A sly smile flickered across her lips as the first on pulled his gun and clumsily waved it at her blurred image. With a giggle she simply reached out and grasped his arm firmly at the wrist. Pulling it up and away from him as her long leg stuck out at his thigh.
Within a minute, that gun and all the others that had come out to play were safely in a locked bulletproof bag she had brought, and stashed away in a dark corner of the room. All the other guns in the house were already disabled, as were the phones and the security systems.
Barbra Gordon had done her homework. She knew for example that of the fifteen men in the room, four were gay. So those four were knocked out cold and bound efficiently before she took care of the others. She knew most of the rest were married; Mr. Hotshit was one of the only ones without a wife. That's what made her plan so perfect.
Mr. Hotshit had been expanding of late. From one neighborhood to the next and his most profitable enterprise was his drug ring. Now batgirl had no real problem his drugs in general. Many of her informants were paid in heroin or weed, and she had smoked a bit herself when she felt she wanted to. But Mr. Hotshit had crossed a big line when he sold poison cut with more poison. Two hookers had died on East Street thinking they had found a cheap source.
She had come across the bodies and knew immediately what had happened. She went straight to her best source on Mr. Hotshit and pumped him dry. Then she put on a disguise and stole Mr. Hotshit's keys, delaying him for just enough to make it to his house and set up her plan.
Now disarmed and knocked around, his boys sat in an amazed stupor as she tied Mr. HotShit tightly to his chair. He pulled him into the corner and set a spotlight over him, bathing the room in bright soft white light, casting away the darkness. His men blinked, confused and stumbled to their feet. Babra Gordon, the Batgirl now stood in front of the spotlight and the men saw her in clear relief.
Her ever so petite figure blocked little of the light, but it gave the men the first impression that something was very different about this bat. As she approached, they noticed that the white bat symbol on her chest was actually bare flesh! It was a place where the black leather gave way to lace, then to smooth white skin. Her nipples stood proudly, little pink dots on the tips of her firm breasts.
She put here gloved hand up to her red lips and traced her fingers down the side of her face, tracing her long neck, pausing seductively to play with her nipple as she went down; the men's eyes in a drugged daze following her every motion. Her waist was covered in the same black leather but it parted ways just before her belly button, the gap widening till the men realized that Batgirl's crotch was not covered!
Many jaws dropped open; most criminals who had been captured by the batgirl had wondered once or twice what it might be like to bed her, what secrets that full body costume hid from their lusty eyes. She gave them a moment to gawk, and then she spoke in hushed seductive tones. "So, who here wants to be beaten within an inch of his life and hauled off to prison?"
No one spoke; they were too stunned to form words. "Ok then, who wants to get fucked till they can't stand and testify in court against this piece of scum tied up behind me?"
