Batgirl Enhanced

This story is not so much about the adventures of Batgirl, but more about the developing sexuality of Barbara Gordon. The storyline continues on from 'The Price of Silence' and once more includes the character of Jennifer Goodbody AKA Sparrow, as well as Selina Kyle AKA Catwoman (did I really need to say that?).

In recent times, there seems to have been a huge upsurge in the use of cosmetic surgery and other medical techniques, to enhance the physical attributes that nature has bestowed upon us. Why should Batgirl be immune from such temptations?

Enjoy!

Warning! This story contains material of an adult nature and is intended for mature readers and for personal use only. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 2: New, Improved Batcostume

Wednesday, 6:20 pm

Batman was sitting in front of the Bat-computer, in the Batcave, when Robin slid down the Bat-pole and bounded over to his mentor and fellow crime-buster. "Hey Bruce!" he greeted, cheerfully. "Barbara gets out of the hospital today, or had you forgotten?"

Bruce Wayne, AKA Batman, looked up from the monitor display, where he had been updating the known current circumstances of Gotham City's major league villains. "No, I hadn't forgotten," he retorted, a little more forcefully than he'd intended.

"Why don't you give her a call?" Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, suggested, with a broad grin on his youthful face. Both caped crusaders were well aware that Barbara Gordon was also Batgirl, their staunchest ally in the never-ending battle against Gotham's criminal fraternity.

"Ah, um, no, I don't think so, old friend!" Bruce replied, his cheeks reddening ever so slightly. "Probably the last thing she wants right now, is a reminder that she has been neglecting her crime-fighting duties, these past few weeks!"

"Come off it, Bruce!" the Boy Wonder protested. "She HAS been in hospital, after all! Anyway, Sparrow has been helping us out with Batgirl's night patrols, whenever she could!" He smiled to himself, as he recollected that Jennifer worked as a striptease artist, several nights a week. He blinked, and brought his thoughts back to the present. "What is it that Babs has had done, anyway?"

Bruce went a shade redder, and he cleared his throat before replying. "Hrumph! I, ah, I don't exactly know, old chum," he replied with a shrug. "I have been led to believe that it was one of those, er, problems that only females suffer from?"

"Oh?" Dick replied, with a blank look on his face, no more enlightened than before. He brightened up. "Will Jenny be dropping by this evening, Bruce?" he enquired. Dick had developed a soft spot for Jennifer Goodbody, AKA Sparrow, over the last few months. The gorgeous young blonde had a great tush and a sparkling personality to match.

Bruce shook his head and smiled at the eagerness in Dick Grayson's voice. "Sorry, Dick! I believe she's stopping over at Barbara's place tonight, to help smooth her transformation back into normal Gotham society! Barbara will probably have to put her feet up for a few days yet, before she can resume the strenuous activities involved in her nocturnal patrols?" He glanced at his Bat-watch. "Anyway, time is scurrying by, Boy Wonder. It's time we got out on the streets and kicked some criminal ass. To the Batmobile!"

Thursday, 8:30 am

Jennifer was sitting in front of the dresser, painting her toenails a sinful shade of crimson, with just a large fluffy pink towel wrapped around her otherwise nude body, when the door-chime sounded. "I'll go get it!" she yelled, above the sound of gushing water from the shower, where Barbara was still rinsing off the soapsuds from her spectacular frame.

"Thanks, hon!" Barbara called, switching of the spray and stepping, dripping, out of the cubicle.

Jen scurried over to the reinforced metal door and peered out through the spy-hole. Standing in the hallway, was a bored-looking, uniformed delivery boy, shuffling from one foot to the other, while he waited. He was carrying a large parcel, wrapped in plain brown paper. She quickly threw back the various security bolts and latches, and pulled open the heavy door. "Yes?" she enquired, with a raised eyebrow.

The boy's eyebrows shot up, as he ogled the gorgeous blonde, who was obviously clad in nothing but the towel, precariously wrapped around her torso. "Er, Ms. Gordon?" he enquired, trying to keep the grin off his spotty face.

"Yeah?" Jennifer replied, not bothering to put him straight.

"Parcel! You'll need to sign for it though!" He handed her a receipt book and ballpoint pen, then held out the parcel, so she could use it to lean on, as she penned her signature, hoping that the towel might give up its tenuous hold, while she was signing for the delivery.

Jen signed Barbara's name then handed back the book and pen. "There! Whoops!" She made a hasty grab for the towel, just as it started to come unraveled, and managed to keep it up in front of her chest, thus depriving the youth of a cheap thrill. She reached out and took the parcel from him with her free right hand. "Well?" she enquired, as he made no move to leave.

"What, no tip?" he asked, with a cheeky grin.

"Does it look as if I'm carrying any money on me?" she snapped. "Beat it, kid!" Jenny stepped back and slammed the door in the boy's startled face.

She sat down on the couch and examined the parcel without bothering to replace the towel around her torso, instead, draping it over the arm of the chesterfield. The parcel appeared to have come from a company calling itself 'Specialized Fetish Apparel'.

Just then, Barbara stepped through the doorway, into the lounge, briskly rubbing a towel through her tousled hair, but otherwise naked. "Who was that, hon?" she enquired, and then her eyes alighted on the parcel. "Hey, yes, it's arrived!" she cried, her eyes glittering with excitement.

"What's arrived?"

"My new Batgirl costume! Open it up, Jen, there's a good girl!"

Jennifer nodded and eagerly tore away the paper wrapping and opened the box. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, were various items of Kevlar body armor, complete with straps and buckles, plus a dozen cellophane packets, containing what looked like, sheer, purple, one-piece body-stockings.

"Pass me one of those packets, then close your eyes, while I try it on!"

"Why on earth should I close my eyes?" Jen protested, good-naturedly. "I can already see everything you've got!"

"I want it to be a surprise!" Barbara insisted, with a sexy pout. "Now, do as you're told and close your eyes!"

"Oh, very well!" Jenny deliberately exaggerated placing her hands over her eyes. A few seconds later, she felt Barbara sit down on the couch beside her, followed by a lot of squirming and shuffling, as Babs slipped into the costume. Barbara was humming, happily, to herself. Finally, Jenny felt the seat cushion rise, as her lover stood up from the couch and turned to face her.

"OK, you can look now!" Barbara announced, somewhat breathlessly.

Jenny squinted through her fingers, and then took both hands away from her eyes. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, wide-eyed. Barbara stood before her, in her classic Batgirl pose, hands on hips and legs astride. The purple body stocking she wore, was so sheer, it was almost transparent. It covered her from neck to ankles, including her arms, and clung to her spectacular figure like a coat of paint. Her only underwear appeared to be the briefest of thongs, comprising of a tiny black triangle of material, that barely covered her pubes, plus bootlace thin side straps that rode high over the tops of her hips.

"Ta-dah!" Barbara did a slow spin, revealing that the side straps swept down off her hips, to meet at the junction of her shapely buttocks, before disappearing out of sight between them. "What do you think?"

Jenny blinked. "How on Earth are you going to stop that thong from slipping down?" she gasped, feeling her sex start to moisten.

"I'm not!" Barbara retorted, with a mischievous smile.

"WHAT?"

"It's not going to slip down," Barbara added, seeing the look of shock on Jennifer's face. "It's sewn into the body stocking," she explained, with a sly grin. "Well, a girl has to retain a little modesty, after all!"

"But you can't go out on patrol d-dressed like THAT!" Jenny protested, now highly aroused.

"Of course not, silly! When I've strapped my body armor on, I should look quite respectable... well, almost!" she added, with a titter. "Please help me on with it, Jen!"

The young girl nodded, dragging her eyes away from Barbara's enhanced jiggling breasts. The dark areolas were clearly visible, Barbara's unbelievably prominent nipples trying to punch twin holes through their clinging confines.

First, they buckled the perfectly sculpted Kevlar plates to Barbara's upper arms and forearms, and then they did the same to the front of her thighs and her shins. A Kevlar pelvic girdle was then fastened about her slim waist, protecting the tops of her hips.

Finally, Barbara picked up the Kevlar breastplate and examined it, with a pleased expression on her face. Unlike her old costume, this had been custom formed to fit her new breasts, even down to the deep nipple recesses. She slipped it over her newly acquired attributes and passed the straps to Jen, for her to buckle up.

"How on Earth did you manage to get this to fit so perfectly?" Jennifer asked in wonderment, as she bucked up the straps in the back, pulling the armor tight up against Barbara's enhanced chest.

Barbara gave a low chuckle. "I got one of the nurses to take a plaster caste of my new boobs, shortly after the operation, then sent it off to this company, along with the rest of the costume specification."

Jenny finished buckling the armor into place, and Barbara turned to face her. "How does it look now?" she enquired, her big green eyes glittering with excitement.

"You... You look fantastic!" Jennifer gasped. The two Kevlar breasts were a perfect reproduction of the real things and a yellow bat symbol, was emblazoned across her impressive frontage. Jenny's eyes dropped to Barbara's crotch. The minute triangle of black material, clung to her pussy lips, clearly outlining them, unobscured by the Kevlar girdle or her thigh armor.

Jennifer was so engrossed in the erotic vision before her, that she was totally unaware that her stiffened fingers were rubbing against her mons, and against her swollen clitoris, until she felt the climax sweep over her.

Thursday, 12:30 pm

Barbara had arranged to meet her father in a local diner at noon but, as usual, she was running late. "Well, it IS a girl's prerogative!" she told herself, as she headed for the rendezvous, ignoring the many appreciative looks she was getting from her fellow pedestrians, as she strode along the sidewalk.

Jim Gordon checked his watch, for perhaps the dozenth time. "Where is she?" he muttered, starting to get worried.

Suddenly, the glass double-doors swung inward, and a vision in red swept into the diner.

"Barbara?" croaked the Commissioner, startled by her appearance. His daughter was wearing a short red shift, with a daringly low-cut neckline, and a skirt that barely reached halfway down to her knees, together with dark, patterned hose and matching red, spiky-heeled pumps.

His daughter spotted him and waved her purse in the air above her head, causing her skirt hem to rise to almost arrestable height. "Hi daddy!" she called, cheerfully, hurrying over, slightly breathlessly, her chest heaving.

Arriving at the other side of the small table, she lent over and kissed him on his forehead. This action almost caused her breasts to tumble out of the top of her low-cut dress, up against his opened-mouthed face. "Sorry I'm late, daddy!" she gushed, pulling a chair out from under the table and preparing to sit down opposite him.

Jim Gordon stared at his daughter, goggle-eyed. "Barbara, you aren't wearing a bra!" he accused, his ears going a bright red. He had clearly caught a glimpse of her nipples, and what nipples they were!

"Uh, huh!" she confirmed, cheerfully, giving him a broad smile and sitting down. "I knew it would be hot and stuffy in here, daddy, so I dressed accordingly!" Her one hand tugged at the hem of her short skirt, which was threatening to slide all the way up to the tops of her thighs, and reveal her frilly underwear to any interested onlooker, of which there appeared to be many?

Her father glanced around, guiltily, noting the knowing smirks on the faces of several nearby male diners and the frowns on the faces of their wives or girlfriends. "Oh, nooo!" he groaned to himself, realizing that they probably thought he was some sort of 'sugar daddy' or worse, or that the gorgeous redhead seated opposite him, was a high-class hooker.

He turned back to Barbara, his eyes automatically going to her unfettered breasts. "Barbara, dear..." he began, clawing at his suddenly over-tight shirt collar.

"Yes, daddy?" she replied, all wide-eyed innocence.

"Your, um, your chest seems more, ah, pronounced today!"

She blushed, prettily. "Please don't stare so, daddy, you're drawing unwanted attention to yourself, and embarrassing me!" She hastily picked up the menu and obscured his view of her cleavage. "Now, have you ordered yet?" she asked, primly. "I'm absolutely ravenous!"

Thursday, 9:30 pm

Commissioner James Gordon was seated at his desk, staring into space, when a knock came at his office door, bringing him out of his reverie. "Come in!" he called out.

The door swung inward, and the familiar, chunky figure of his Chief of Police, shuffled into the office. "Begorra! Are you still here, Commissioner?" exclaimed Chief O'Hara, with a bemused expression on his florid features.

"Er, yes, Chief," replied his worried-looking superior, glad of a friendly face. He decided to jump straight in at the deep end, and air his troubled thoughts. "I'm worried about Barbara, old friend!"

"The pretty colleen is all right, isn't she, Commissioner?" enquired the easy-going Irishman, with a concerned frown. He'd always had a soft spot for Jim's lovely daughter, ever since she used to insist on sitting on his knee and bounce up and down. But that had been a good few years ago!

"I'm not so sure, Chief? Ever since she was kidnapped and sexually abused by that evil buffoon, the Joker, she doesn't seem to be the same girl? She seems to have become a little too coarse and brazen, too outspoken somehow, and she's hardly ever at home, when I call, these days?"

O'Hara recollected the Joker's ransom videotape, which he had viewed with the Commissioner, some months earlier, right here in this office. "Any young lass would bound to be affected, after having the Joker ram his cock up her ass!" he suggested, sympathetically. "Bejazus! Did you see the size of that thing? It must've been..."

"That's sufficient, thank you, Chief!" Jim Gordon snapped, cutting the almost drooling Irishman off short. "The point is, my daughter seems to have lost that air of child-like innocence, that I loved so much!"

"The young lass IS starting to grow up, Commissioner, to be sure! She IS twenty-six years old, after all!"

Jim Gordon sighed. "True, but she will always be my little girl in my eyes, Chief! Still, it's about time Barbara found herself a steady boyfriend and gave some serious thought to settling down, getting married, and raising a family of her own!" His mood brightened, at this particular train of thought. "I'm quite looking forward to becoming a grandfather, one day!"

He rose up from his desk. "Well, I'm going home, Chief!" he declared, with unusual conviction. Grabbing his coat, he headed for the door. "Goodnight O'Hara! See you in the morning!"