This is the fourth in my ongoing series of Batgirl stories, in which I try to explore the developing sexuality of her everyday counterpart, Barbara Gordon and her relationship with those around her, hopefully with a dash of excitement thrown in, for good measure. Grateful thanks to all those readers who have sent me feedback containing their suggestions and opinions. The storyline continues on from that of 'Batgirl Enhanced'.
Warning! This fictional story contains material of an adult nature and is intended for mature readers, and for personal use only. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 4: Letting The Cat Out Of The Bag
Tuesday, 7:07 pm
Barbara tucked Jennifer up, and smiled at the lovely young blonde stretched out on the couch. The nurse had removed the dressing from about Jenny's forehead, before they had left the hospital, and the relatively small scar appeared to be healing up nicely. Jen would have to return later, to ensure the sutures had dissolved properly and that there was no infection of the wound, but that was just routine. Barbara had lent Jennifer one of her baby-doll nighties, until they could return to Jenny's apartment and collect a few more items of clothing.
"Try to get some sleep, honey," she murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from Jennifer's forehead. "Those two sleeping tablets I gave you, should start to kick in, in a few minutes? I'll see you in the morning, before I go to work." She lent forward and kissed Jenny on the forehead. "'Night!"
"G'night!" Jennifer mumbled, her heavy eyelids already starting to droop.
Barbara stood their watching the young blonde, until she was certain she was sound asleep, and then crept into the bedroom. Normally, she would have allowed the patient to sleep in her bed, but this would have severely restricted her nocturnal activities. She pressed the hidden button under the dresser and watched it silently swing inward, together with the narrow section of wall that hid the secret passage, that led down to the compact hidden ground level garage, at the rear of the apartment block. She unhooked her Batcostume from the back of the panel, then turned and tossed it onto the bed, as the dresser swung back into place.
She uttered a loud sigh, as she started to strip off her street clothes, and then sat on the edge of the mattress to finally remove her shoes and stockings. She then pulled on the black, Kevlar reinforced, Latex catsuit, smoothing it down over her legs and hips, and positioning the armor comfortably over her boobs, before zipping up the full length fastener in back. She slipped on the calf-length boots, then stood up and walked over to the dresser mirror and touched up her make-up, including using a liberal quantity of her trademark dark-purple Bat-lipstick. She used a tissue to blot off the excess, then clipped her short Bat-cape about her neck. Finally, she pulled on the combined mask and cowl, tucking a few stray wisps of hair beneath the built in wig.
She then stood for a moment, hands on flared hips, admiring her stunning, five-feet nine-inch reflection in the mirror. "You'll do!" she murmured, then reached for the hidden button again. Moments later, having grabbed her utility belt off a hook in the passageway, she disappeared down the narrow stairwell, to the ground-level garage and her powerful Batgirl motorcycle.
-oOo-
Arkham Asylum was a grim looking place, in the light of day, but at night, illuminated by moonlight, it looked even more foreboding! Situated in a wooded area, just to the north of Gotham City, the Victorian style building had been deeded to a Doctor Amadeus Arkham by his late mother, and converted, in 1921, to house the criminally insane. The Asylum had been the first facility of its kind in Gotham County.
Dr Arkham, a vigorous social reformer, had been appalled by conditions in the Gotham penal system, where those who were mentally ill, and therefore not legally responsible for their actions, were incarcerated side-by-side with hardened career criminals. He was determined to do something about this situation. To that end, he transformed his ancestral home into a high-security mental facility, and staffed it with some of the most prominent psychologists and physicians of his era!
Ironically, one of Arkham's first inmates was one 'Mad Dog' Martin Hawkins, who had been arrested and tried for the brutal murder of Amadeus Arkham's own wife and infant daughter, then found not guilty, by reason of insanity. It was to Dr. Arkham's everlasting credit, that he treated Hawkins with great concern and compassion, right up to his accidental electrocution, barely two months after his initial incarceration.
In 1929, just six days after the now-legendary Wall Street stock market crash, Dr. Arkham, who had lost his entire fortune in the crash, apparently went berserk, and was subdued and arrested while attempting to electrocute his stockbroker. Found not guilty by reason of insanity, Amadeus Arkham was committed to his own asylum, where he spent the remainder of his days carving indecipherable inscriptions on the floor of his cell with his fingernails, while softly singing 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic'. Amadeus Arkham subsequently passed away quietly in his sleep, on April 7, 1963, a faint smile etched forever on his lips.
Upon his death, the establishment was transferred into the hands of the City Authority, and had subsequently been used to house some of Gotham's most mentally disturbed criminal elements, such as the Joker, the Penguin, the Riddler, Bane, Two-Face, Mr. Freeze, Killer Croc, and most recently, Selina Kyle AKA The Catwoman!
Tuesday, 7:09 pm
Selina Kyle smiled at the male guard, through the bars of her cell. "Hello, Big Boy!" she purred, throatily. "I haven't ssseen you around here before!"
The young prison guard, blinked at her, nervously and took an involuntary step backward. He had been informed that 'Catwoman', as she was commonly referred to by the rest of the warders, was a very dangerous prisoner, and should only be approached with extreme caution. "I-I only started working here a week ago!" he replied. He couldn't help but notice what a sexy woman the prisoner looked, even in her standard drab prison garb and with that boyish, close-cropped hairstyle.
According to his fellow worker's, Catwoman was as nutty as a fruit cake, and when she was first admitted, had insisted on just wearing an abbreviated loincloth thing, WITHOUT even any panties! "Jesus, I would've liked to have seen that!" he muttered to himself. He felt his cock twitch, just at the thought. Unfortunately, the shrinks had soon talked her out of it, and now she wore the same drab outfit as all the other incarcerated loony tunes.
Selina had noted the bulge in the front of his uniform pants and smiled to herself. "I bet you would love to have sssex with me, wouldn't you, handsssome?" she purred, sexily, starting to unbutton her top.
"W-What?"
"You heard me, Big Boy!" she murmured, shrugging the top off her shoulders, and letting fall to the floor of her cell.
"Oh shit, she ain't wearing no underwear!" he told himself, as he stared, wide-eyed, at her gently swaying 37-inch bust, then watched her cup the superbly formed globes of flesh in both hands and squeeze them together.
"I bet you'd jussst love to get your hands on thessse babies?" she purred, tweaking her nipples into full prominence.
"I, er, I think you should put your jacket back on, lady!" he said, glancing around, nervously. "You could get us both into a whole heap of trouble!"
