Batgirl Risks All Ch 07

Author's note: This story is not so much about the adventures of Batgirl, but more about the developing sexuality of Barbara Gordon. It introduces several original characters, and is only loosely based on the comic book heroine. Enjoy!

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

The Adventures Of Batgirl: Batgirl Risks All

Chapter 7: Into The Frying Pan

Saturday, 9:45 pm

Barbara wiggled her way along the sidewalk, her five-inch spiky heels click-clacking on the concrete slabs, as she approached the junction of Belfry Street and Vine. She'd decided to come in her hooker disguise, rather than in her Batgirl persona, just in case Bigun had the place staked out. It wouldn't do for him to become suspicious at this crucial stage.

She was wearing a short, knitted cropped top that barely came down to the bottom of her breasts, leaving her stomach and most of her back bare; skin-tight, high-cut, hot-pants over crotch-less pantyhose; and, of course, high-heel pumps. This outfit didn't restrict her movement excessively, and wouldn't create undue suspicion in the red-light district. In her purse, she carried a number of Bat-gadgets, to help in the capture of Bigun and any comrades in crime! She felt supremely confident!

She arrived at the corner, beneath a street lamp, and glanced at her watch. "Five to ten! No sign of Bigun, or any of his henchmen?" She began to pace back and forth. "I hope nothing's gone wrong?" she muttered, glancing at her watch again. "Two minutes past ten!" She tugged at the tight crotch of her shorts. She'd enjoyed dressing up as a slut these last few days, but some of her outfits had been a little uncomfortable, to say the least.

She leant against the wall, and raising her left leg, slipped her shoe off, and massaged her aching foot. There was still no sign of Bigun. "Probably double-checking to see if I've brought the cops?" she decided.

Suddenly, she heard a slight swishing noise from above, and looked up, just as the weighted, falling net enmeshed her in it's clutches, knocking her to the ground. She struggled to regain her feet, but three big men appeared out of nowhere, piling on top of her, and wrapping the net about her, with the aid of lengths of chain.

Finally, she was dragged, gasping and panting to her feet, and the ominous figure of Ivor Bigun loomed over her.

"What the fuck's going on, Bigun?" she gasped, angrily, her hair entangled in the netting. "You and I are here to come to a mutually beneficial business arrangement! Tell your goons to let go of me, at once, or the whole deal is off!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that Ms. St. Claire, or should I say, Ms. Barbara Gordon?"

Barbara froze, a look of shock on her face.

"Yes, I've been doing a little checking up on you," he added, with a chuckle, seeing the momentary look of panic in her eyes. "It's a shame your good friend Batgirl doesn't appear to have shown up to help you. We gave her a few extra minutes. Tsk! Tsk! It appears she has let you down, badly?"

"What are you going to do with me, Bigun?" Barbara panted, defiantly, her eyes searching desperately for her missing purse.

"Are you looking for this?" Bigun bent down and picked up the black leather purse from the sidewalk. He peered inside. "Hmm, I think I'd better hang onto this, for the time being! As for your question, I have some interesting plans for you, Ms. Gordon, and I'm sure that Daddy will be only to glad to part with a few bucks, to ensure your eventual safety?"

He chuckled evilly. "Bring her!" he commanded, turning away.

Barbara was dragged, kicking and swearing, into the back of an unmarked van, and thrown to the floor. The vehicle roared off, and, after a few minutes, screeched to a halt again. She heard the sound of heavy roller doors being opened, and with a jerk, and a squeal of tires, the van passed through into a darkened building.

Someone climbed into the back and cut away the netting from around her head and placed a blindfold over her eyes. She was then manhandled out of the vehicle and stood upright, while they freed her from the animal netting, and handcuffed her wrists together behind her back. In addition, her arms were bound with nylon rope above the elbows, before she was dragged, screaming and cursing, through the large, echoing room, and into a second room beyond.

"You can remove her blindfold now!" growled a menacing voice that she recognized as that of Bigun.

Barbara blinked, in the bright light of the overhead strip lighting, and saw Ivor Bigun standing before her, in some sort of ramshackle office.

"My, my, but you're a pretty one, Ms. Gordon," he chuckled, reaching out and pushing up her knitted tank-top, fully revealing her naked, heaving breasts to everyone present. "I shall enjoy getting to know you better!" He ran his large hands over her firm, round breasts, before flicking her nipples into full erection, with his thumbs.

"Go screw yourself, you... you pervert!" Barbara snapped, straightening her back and standing as tall as she could, as she stared into his face, contemptuously.

"Well, well, a little she-cat!" He chuckled, but his eyes were glistening like shards of ice. "Let's see just how much she's really worth boys?" he added.

"You bastard!" Barbara gasped, as hands moved about her waist, holding her firmly, while other fingers unbuttoned her shorts and yanked them down about her ankles, before tugging them from her feet.

"Crotch-less pantyhose, no less?" Bigun hissed, with an evil chuckle. "I see you came well prepared, baby!"

"When my father gets his hands on you, he'll kill you, Bigun," she panted, unable to cover herself, as he ogled her luxuriant red beaver.

"Oh, I'm sure we can come to some less drastic arrangement, Ms. Gordon, or may I call you Barbara, since we are about to become such good friends?" He reached out and ran the widespread fingers of his right hand, through her curly pubic thatch. "Very good friends!" he added, with a disgusting leer.

She spat in his face, but he didn't react as she had expected. With spittle still running down his cheek, he moved his hand lower, and slipped three fingers between her labia, jerking them in and out of her, while his thumb pressed hard and painfully against her burgeoning clitoris. "I'm afraid you need to be taught a little respect!" he hissed, angrily.

"Aaaagghh, aaaugh!" She arched her back, writhing her hips and crying out with pain, until he finally eased off the pressure on her sensitive little love bud, and the residual pain merged with the pleasure.

"Before this is all over, you are going to wish you were dead, Miss 'high and mighty' Gordon!" he snarled, stepping forward and slipping his right hand down between her buttocks. He located her tight sphincter, and thrust his index finger into her anus, giving it a cruel twist and causing her to gasp and cry out with pain.

Tears sprang to her big, green eyes, as she continued to stare at him, unbowed.

He grinned and removed his finger. "Take her away boys!"

A gag was placed over Barbara's mouth and nostrils, and she smelled chloroform. She tried to shake herself free of it, but it was no use, she could only hold her breath for so long! Soon, she was forced to breath in the narcotic fumes, and everything started to go black...

Saturday, 11:00 pm

When Barbara regained consciousness, she found herself standing in total blackness, with her hands held high and wide above her head, by some sort of metal shackles fixed about her wrists. She tried to move them, and heard the clink of chain links. She tried to move her feet, and realized that she also had heavy manacles fastened about her trim ankles, as she recognized the sound of metal chain links dragging across the concrete floor.

Even though she was effectively blind, Barbara was aware that she had been chained up, totally naked. She could feel subtle drafts and changes of air pressure against her naked flesh, and felt her nipples peaking in the cool air. "They certainly aren't taking any chances with me escaping?" she muttered, testing her restraints once again, to see if she could force her small hands out of the steel shackles, but it was useless. Without her various Bat-gadgets, she was virtually powerless.

Suddenly, an overhead light bulb came on and, moments later, Ivor Bigun entered the room. "Ah, I'm glad to see you're awake, Barbara," he said, with a false cheerfulness. "I thought I'd let you know that my ransom demand for a half-a-million bucks has been duly dispatched to your father, Police Commissioner Gordon!"

"A... a half-a-million," Barbara gasped. "How on Earth do you expect Daddy to come up with that kind of money? He's only a humble public servant!"

Bigun shrugged his shoulders. He was wearing his infamous black body stocking, with the silver briefs and codpiece. "Perhaps your so-called pal, Batgirl, can chip in with some of the cash?" he said, sarcastically, walking over to her. He ran his coarse hands over her naked breasts, flattened somewhat by her raised arm position, then down over her taut, trembling stomach, as she gave an involuntary shiver of loathing. "That doesn't mean we can't have some fun in the meantime, though," he added, with a grin, "does it?"

She stared at him defiantly, haughtily, as he continued to play with her nipples, quickly bringing them to fully erect hardness. She almost told him to get stuffed, but bit down on her lip, instead. It would be a fruitless exercise, in her present predicament, and only succeed in making him angry!

He took a step back, and unfastened the side clasps of his silver briefs, pulling them aside, along with the attached codpiece. Barbara stared in horrified fascination, as his huge penis came into view. It hung down, soft and fat against his ball-sack, like some giant, revolting white worm.

"Admiring my equipment?" he asked, smugly, seeing the look on her face. He took himself in hand, and started to stroke himself into erection.

"Why don't you let me do that for you?" Barbara murmured, huskily, turning on a sexy smile, despite her aching muscles.

He looked at her, suspiciously. "This some kinda trick?" he asked, scowling.

"Not at all!" she replied, putting a hurt look on her face. "Believe me, you'd enjoy it! You only need to un-cuff one of my wrists. There's no way that I could get free!"

He grinned at this. "True!" he conceded.

"Very well!" He stepped forward and released her left wrist, and she wrapped her fist about his now semi-erect organ. "But any funny business and I'll make you suffer, bitch!" he warned, menacingly.

Barbara grinned, and began to jerk him off, watching in amazement, as his cock swiftly grew to a massive ten inches in length. She had thought such massive members were just a figment of the imagination of writers of erotica!

"Impressive, huh?" he growled, as she positioned the domed head at the entrance to her sex.

"Mmm, wonderful!" she sighed. "Now shut up and do me!"

Surprised by the redhead's apparent eagerness, he allowed her to draw him fully into her pussy. "God, she's tight!" Ivor thought, delightedly, as she clamped her internal muscles about his weapon.

Barbara began to rotate and grind her hips, like a real hooker, as Bigun started to piston in and out of her cunt. "Cum you bastard, cummmm!" she prayed, silently. "Nooo, noooo! Aaaaaahh! Yes, yes, unnnggghhhh!" she cried, as he thrust into her faster and more urgently, encouraged by her cries of passion.

Tears glistened in her lovely green eyes, as Barbara tried to ignore the terrific pain caused by his hugeness, hoping he would inflict no permanent damage. Soon, her pussy was dripping wet with her secretions, as he pounded into her like a rutting stag.

Suddenly, she felt Ivor stiffen slightly, and give a low groan. Moments later, a flood of warm wetness bathed the inside of her vulva and his pistoning shaft. She gasped with pleasure, as his climax triggered her own orgasm, and a flood of girl lubrication followed. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" she cried thrusting her hips forward, trying to absorb every inch of his massive tool. "Fuck me! Fuck me, Ivor!"

Ivor Bigun rammed his massive cock into her, again and again. "This slut is the best fuck yet!" he thought, delightedly, as she continued to eagerly thrust back, determined to absorb every single inch of his man-meat.

Soon, his cock began to shrivel to mere mortal dimensions, and she withdrew it, dripping from her sopping slit, caressing it, rubbing their combined cum over her hand and between her fingers. "Mmm, that was so good, sooh good!" she gasped dreamily, slipping her fist inside of herself, and trying for a second climax.

He yanked her hand out. "Not bad, bitch," he snarled, "but I do all the fuckin' 'round here, so no frigging yourself off!" He took her spunk-coated hand and locked her wrist back in the shackle hanging down above her head. She hung there, head thrown back and eyes closed, his cum running down the insides of her milky thighs, a satisfied smile on her face. "This bitch is the biggest whore I've ever fucked," he decided, with a sneer.

"I'll be back when I've got another full load to give you!" he added, with an evil grin. "Try not to get too frustrated in the meantime, my love?" He picked up his silver briefs and buckled them back into place, then walked away, chuckling loudly.

Barbara hung from her chains, spunk oozing from her aching pussy, head thrown back, as she panted for breath. As soon as Bigun was out of the room, she began to pull and twist on her left arm, gradually sliding the cum-soaked hand through the tight steel band. It was just as she'd hoped and prayed! The potent mixture of Bigun's semen and her own secretions, was acting as an efficient lubricant, enabling her to gradually squeeze her hand through the tight metallic constriction. With a final gasp of pain, her slimy hand popped free of the steel shackle.

She peered around, examining her surroundings in detail, for the first time. She appeared to be in some sort of abandoned engineering workshop. Her wrists had been shackled to lengths of chain that were looped about an overhead R.S.J., originally used by a hoist. Her ankle manacles were chained to large eyebolts set in the dirty, stained concrete floor, forcing her legs apart. "Yuk! Some of those stains look suspiciously like bloodstains," she gasped, with a shudder. The workshop was deserted, and obviously had not been used for many years.

She rubbed the fingers of her freed hand against her sopping pussy, and then smeared the sticky mixture over her right wrist and hand. She slipped three fingers inside herself, liberally coating them with his creamy spunk, before inserting them under the right manacle and wiping them over her chaffed skin. "That should be enough!" she muttered, standing on her toes and gripping the shackle with her free hand. She gradually worked the steel cuff back and forth, as she tried to pull her hand free, gritting her teeth against the excruciating pain. Finally, her hand slid out of the metal constriction, accompanied by a sobbing sigh of relief!

She stood there rubbing her hands and wrists, panting heavily from her exertions, her breasts heaving fetchingly, as she slowly recovered her composure. She then felt into her mouth, and broke off the false caps she had fitted to her lower back two molars. Squatting down on her haunches, she shattered one of the small glass vials on the link of chain closest to her right ankle shackle then, taking care to avoid any contact with her skin, she dripped the contents onto it. She watched, impatiently, as the super-powerful acid gave off a cloud of yellow fumes, and ate through the high-tensile steel, like a hot knife through butter. She repeated the operation on the chain link attached to her other ankle band, and it too, fell away within a matter of minutes.

Finally, she was free. Barbara padded over to the exit doorway, crouching low, and carefully peered outside. The wide double-door led into a large abandoned warehouse, dirty and dusty, with grimy, cracked windows set high up in the rusting, corrugated-steel walls.

Over to one side, Bigun's three henchmen were sitting on packing crates, playing cards, and joking and laughing amongst themselves, as they drank from cans of beer. There was no way she could get across the open space and out through the exit, without one of them spotting her?

To the right, was an office cabin with large glass window. Inside, she could see Bigun sitting at a desk, drinking a mug of steaming tea or coffee, engrossed in some sort of magazine.

She glanced up. High above her head was a narrow inspection catwalk, that led directly to the outer wall above the exit, where there was a small trapdoor leading outside. "If only I had my Bat-arang!" she groaned, silently. "It would've been a cinch to scale up a nylon cable attached to it, and make my escape along that walkway, with no-one the wiser!"

Suddenly, her eyes lit up, as she noticed a set of rusty iron rungs set in a supporting column, leading up to the overhead catwalk. The rungs were positioned on the opposite side of the column to the card players, so she would be hidden from their view, as she ascended them!

Unfortunately, she would be in full view of Ivor Bigun, for most of her climb. If he should happen to glance out of the office window, he couldn't fail to spot her! Still, she would have to take that chance! She slipped out of the door, and dodged behind a stack of long abandoned wooden pallets, watching where she placed her bare feet. It wouldn't do to step on a rusty screw or nail.

"Unfortunately, Batgirl, pink is not an ideal camouflage color!" she realized, as she darted across eight feet of open space, and pressed herself up against the back of the foot-wide, rusting steel support, heart pounding and tits rising and falling. She was out of sight of the card-players, but in full view of Bigun, should he happen to glance up from his reading matter.

She froze for a moment, panting slightly. "Luckily, he seems engrossed in that copy of Playboy magazine!" she thought, thankfully, as she inched her naked body around, then began to carefully climb the narrow steel rungs. Had Bigun looked up, at that moment, he would have seen just about the nicest pair of firm, round buttocks in all of Gotham City!

The rungs were quite painful on her bare soles, but Barbara continued upward, gritting her teeth, until she reached the narrow catwalk. It was barely a foot wide, with a single handrail fixed to one side. She began to inch her way along the catwalk on her hands and knees, keeping her head and ass as low as possible. If one of them looked up now, all would be lost! Her dangling breasts scraped against the greasy, filth encrusted metal surface, as she hunkered down low and silently inched her way along.

Suddenly, Bigun appeared in the doorway of the office. "Phil, go out and get us all a pizza, will ya?" he called over to one of the men.

Sure boss, any particular type?" came the reply, in a thick Scottish accent.

"Naw, I don't care! I could eat just about anything, I feel ravenous!"

"Sex does that for you, boss!" Phil said, with a grin, rising from his crate. There were loud guffaws of laughter from the other two hoods. Bigun grinned, then returned to his magazine, while Phil headed for the exit.

Barbara raised her face up from the steel plate, where she'd flattened herself, and breathed a sigh of relief, before resuming her progress. She squirmed the remainder of the way on her belly and thighs. Finally, she reached the hatchway in the outer wall.

"Darn!" she muttered to herself. It was bolted shut. She tried the rusted bolt, but it was seized solid. She tugged at it, desperately, starting to panic.