Batgirl: Sadist or Masochist

This story is the eighth in an ongoing series of Batgirl adventures and is easily my darkest offering yet, since it introduces our plucky heroine to the murky world of BDSM. As usual, it is mainly based on characters found in the early Batman comics and that wonderful '60s TV series, but with the timeline brought up to date.

Warning! This fictional story contains strictly ADULT content and is ONLY intended for mature readers and for personal consumption. No copyright infringement is intended.

The Adventures Of Batgirl

Batgirl: Sadist or Masochist

Chapter 4: A Sting In The Tail

November 12th, 9:45 am

Jennifer couldn't wait for the morning coffee break to arrive, as she breezed into her red-haired boss's office and plonked her shapely rear down on the corner of her desk. "Well, what have you managed to find out?" she demanded.

Barbara smiled at the bubbly blonde's eagerness to learn every little detail about her personal crusade. She shrugged her shoulders, nonchalantly. "Nothing much," she replied, a little off-handedly.

Jenny's face showed her disappointment. "Nothing?" she exclaimed.

"Ever heard of a place called 'The Hellfire Club'?" Barbara asked, out of the blue.

"Isn't that the new nightclub that's recently opened up in town?" Jenny asked, with a bemused expression.

"Yes, that's the one!"

"I don't know much about the place. They don't employ strippers or pole dancers there, as far as I'm aware." Jennifer earned much needed extra income by working in various strip clubs, on several evenings a week. She used this extra source of income to help support her paraplegic younger brother.

"But they DO hold a BDSM evening, once a month," Barbara revealed, with a smug smirk.

Jenny's large blue eyes widened with interest.

"They've even got their own internet site and they're sending me two complimentary tickets for the next BDSM meeting, on the seventeenth of the month," the redhead added, triumphantly.

"Wow, that's in just five days time!" Jenny exclaimed, excitedly.

"Uh huh! And, with a bit of luck, I'll be able to find one or two fresh leads in this case."

"Er, won't you have to go dressed up in some sort of kinky fetish gear?" Jenny asked, with a slight frown.

Barbara shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose so. I hadn't given it much thought."

"Look, I may be able to get my hands on some of those slavegirl or dominatrix accessories for you, through my contacts in clubland," Jenny suggested, squirming her shapely ass at the image it conjured up in her mind.

Barbara's face lit up. "Okay, that would be great!" she agreed.

"Which do you prefer, whips or manacles?" Jenny asked, with cheeky grin.

Barbara blushed. "I'm, ah, I'm not sure, yet. I'll have to let you know, a little nearer the time."

"Fair enough! Do you want me to tag along with you, as backup?" Jenny asked, eagerly.

"Sorry, Jen, I've already asked Phil to be my chaperone." Barbara gave the blonde an apologetic shrug.

Jennifer's face fell. "Okay, then I guess I'll have to find the flatfoot something to wear as well!"

"Just as long as it's skimpy and sexy," the redhead agreed, with a devilish chuckle.

November 12th, 10:30 am

An angry Vincent Woo, marched into his local Precinct House and stormed up to the front desk.

"I want to know what you're doing to find my missing daughter?" he demanded of the sergeant on duty. His sing-song, Pidgin English style of speech, had disappeared, to be replaced by his normal educated accent, one which was tinged with worry and indignation.

The long-serving police officer looked up from the official form he had been completing and quizzically eyed the highly irate Chinaman. "Can I be of some sort of assistance, sir?" he queried, diplomatically.

"Yes, damn it! I want to know what you're doing to find my daughter, Zhang?" Vincent repeated, clenching both his fists. "She's been missing for four days now."

"I'll see if I can find someone free who can help you, sir." The uniformed officer picked up the phone and put in a call.

-oOo-

A few minutes later, Vincent was being ushered into the cramped office of Detective Hank Murphy.

"Please take a seat, Mr. Woo," the plain clothes cop said, with a well rehearsed smile, as he re-seated himself behind his cluttered desk. It was littered with open files and reports, plus a half-filled mug of coffee which had gone cold. He waited for the highly agitated civilian to settle opposite him, before continuing. "Now, what can I do for you, sir?"

"I just want you to find my daughter," retorted Woo, miserably.

Murphy picked up an open file from his desk and glanced at the top page. "I see that your daughter has been placed on the 'missing person's' list," the detective pointed out. When this received no comment, he continued. "According to this, your daughter was on her way to the bank at lunchtime, to deposit the previous day's takings from your restaurant business in Chinatown?"

"That is correct. I was expecting her to be gone for no more than fifteen minutes. I soon became worried and went to the bank to check out the cause of the delay. She never reached there; both she and the cash having disappeared somewhere between my restaurant and the bank."

"Perhaps this was a simple robbery, rather than an abduction, Mr. Woo?"

The rotund Asian shook his head, tears glistening in his sleep deprived eyes. "If that had been the case, then I would have expected her to have turned up by now, alive or... or dead!" he whispered, in a broken voice.

"And you haven't received any phone calls, demanding a ransom for her return?" Murphy asked.

The old man shook his head, miserably.

The police detective didn't say anything, but things weren't looking too encouraging for the missing girl. "We will continue our investigations, Mr. Woo and, as soon as we have any news of your daughter, we will be in touch." He rose to his feet and held out his hand to the other man. "Sorry we can't be of any more help, at this trying time for you and your good wife."

Vincent shoulders slumped, as he stood and shook the detective's outstretched hand. "Thank you," he mumbled, thoroughly dejected, before turning to leave.

November 15th, 2:00 pm

The crash of the bedroom door flying open, caused Zhang to awaken from her fitful slumber, with an abrupt start.

"Wha..." she slurred out, as a black hood was pulled over her head, cutting off all the light. As usual, she was lying naked, stretched out on her breasts and stomach in a spreadeagle position, her wrists and ankles secured to the four corners of the bed. The tattoo on her left buttock, was no longer covered by a scab, and her skin was well on the way to being completely healed.

She felt a surge of fear, as multiple hands unfastening the ropes from about her wrists and ankles, then buckled a sturdy leather collar about her neck and attached a length of metal chain to the D-ring on the front of it. A pair of tight-fitting shoes, were forced onto her feet, but she was given no other items of clothing to wear.

"W-What are you going to do with me?" she gasped, fearfully, as her arms were roughly yanked behind her back and a pair of metal handcuffs were snapped about her crossed wrists. There was no immediate answer, as she was dragged from the bed by her chain leash and she found herself stumbling toward the open door on the unaccustomed high heels, in pitch darkness.

"You've had more than enough of this life of idle luxury," growled the gruff male voice of someone just behind her. "Now it's time for you to start earning your keep, bitch. It's pay back time!" This last remark was followed by a coarse belly laugh.

A shiver of fear ran down Zhang's spine, at the sound of his laughter. Whatever was about to happen to her, she was certain she wasn't going to enjoy it.

-oOo-

After what seemed like an eternity of stumbling along, being prodded, pushed and pulled around, Zhang was bundled into a small elevator , which then rapidly descended. When the sliding door slid open again, she was dragged out of the metal cage, by the chain leash attached to her collar, as if she were some sort of domesticated pet. She found herself stumbling over a rocky, uneven surface. From the hollow clicking sounds that her metal tipped heels made against the rocky floor, and the unaccustomed coolness of the air on her naked body, the Asian beauty guessed she was in some sort of subterranean chamber or cavern, deep beneath the building where she'd been incarcerated.

The two men who had accompanied her, brought her to a sudden halt and she felt the handcuffs being unlocked and removed from about her wrists. She hardly had time to gasp in relief and start to rub her chafed and sore skin, before her arms were pulled high and wide above her head, where hanging leather cuffs were clamped about her wrists. Zhang, who was now standing, fully stretched, on her unaccustomed high heels, then felt hands about her slim ankles, pulling her feet wide apart and putting considerable pressure on her arms, which were forced to support much of her weight. Manacles were slipped around her slim ankles. These were attached to a spreader bar, thus ensuring that her legs remained in their wide spread stance.

Zhang was acutely aware that her sex was now openly displayed to her unseen abductors. "Why?" she wailed, desperately. "Why me?"

"Remove the hood and shut the Chinese bitch up!" snarled a cruel voice, one that she hadn't heard before.

The hood was yanked from her head and her mass of long raven colored hair, tumbled down about her bare shoulders. A red ballgag was stuffed into her wide mouth and the retaining straps buckled into place at the back of her head, before her eyes had even accustomed themselves to the powerful artificial illumination that seemed to be directed at her. The tightly cinched straps pulled at the corners of her mouth and dug into her cheeks.

Standing before her, was a comparatively short white man. The man appeared to be naked, apart from a pair of belted brown leather cowboy chaps and a close-fitting black hood, that completely covered his head, apart from the slits for his eyes, nose and mouth. But this was not what caused Zhang to scream into her gag, not even the sight of the huge pale penis, draped over his massive testicles, it was the coiled leather bullwhip, which he gripped tightly in his right fist.

"Prepare her!" ordered the man, with a jerk of his head.

Two of his many minions stepped forward and the first man held up a huge, battery-powered vibrator, in front of Zhang's wide, frightened eyes. With a wide grin, he flicked over a switch at its base and the dildo hummed into life.

"Mmmmmmpppggghhh! Nnnnnggghhhh!" Zhang pleaded into her gag, vigorously shaking her head from side to side and desperately pulling at her shackled wrists. She feared the oversized sex toy might split her in two, if it was forced inside her.

The powerfully built man with the clean shaven head, ignored her muffled pleas and rammed the buzzing device all the way into her unprotected pussy.

"Aaaaaiiiieee!" Zhang jerked and screamed into the gag, arching her spine, as an excruciating pain shot through her lower belly.

Her eyes suddenly widened, as the second man moved behind her and pulled her firm asscheeks apart with his hooked thumbs, before forcing a second activated vibrator up against her tight anal sphincter.

"Nnnnnnggghhh! Mmmmppphhhh! Unnnngggghhhhh!" she gasped, again shaking her head, as he swiftly overcame her feeble resistance and forced the device past her clenched anal muscles, deep into her rear passage.

The man with the whip chuckled. "We'll give the slut ten minutes to get nice and juicy, then I'll administer her punishment," he declared.

Zhang was shaking with fear, praying that this was all just some sort of terrible nightmare, and that she would soon awaken from it. She shook her head from side to side, pleading desperately with her eyes, willing to do anything for him, if her would only release her from her bondage and set her free.

The hooded man glanced to one side. "Are you getting all this on video, Al?" he demanded.

A long-haired guy, wearing tight jeans and grubby T-shirt, who was operating a miniature video camera, nodded and gave him the thumbs up signal with his free hand.

-oOo-

"Oooooohh! Unnnggghhh! Aaaaaahhhh!"

Zhang moaned into her gag, arching her back and thrusting out her tight, aching breasts, the nipples almost painfully hard and erect, her eyes squeezed tight shut. She had tried to resist and ignore the almost overpowering urge to orgasm, as the two humming vibrators did their insidious work within her two lower orifices, but she was only human.

"Ooooh God!" she cried into the saliva soaked ballgag, finally giving up the loosing battle. "I've lost it. I'm going to cummmmmmm! Aaaaaaiiiiiieeeeee!"

A flood of hot secretions soaked the humming dildo in her pussy and flowed down the insides of her thighs, as her moans of passion suddenly turned into a scream of agony. Her bound frame jerked like a taut bowstring, and her eyes flew wide open, as the end of the whiplash cut deep into the tender flesh of her ass, painting a bloody crimson streak across the two rounded half-globes.

"Nooooooooooo!" she pleaded, as a second vicious blow struck her stinging ass, criss-crossing the first bloody wound and causing her taut, naked body to once more jerk, uncontrollably, with the incredible jolt of pain.

"Filthy Chinese whore!" snarled the voice of the masked torturer behind her, as he raised his bullwhip high above his head, ready to administer the third blow of her punishment, a punishment that he would continue, until the pretty bitch finally passed out from the pain.

The video camera quietly whirred in the background, recording every gory detail of the girl's torture.

November 16th, 8:09 pm

After considerable persuasion on his girlfriend's part, Phil had reluctantly agreed to accompany Barbara to the BDSM function at the Hellfire Club, the following day, but had insisted that his participation in the affair, be completely unofficial. If Commissioner Gordon ever found out what his darling daughter was up to, especially with one of his serving police officers, she would be disowned and it would be the end of his promotion prospects and possibly the end of his career in the force.

When Phil arrived at Barbara's apartment, she had immediately informed him that the complimentary BDSM tickets had arrived in the morning mail. She dragged him through the door and excitedly showed him the outfits that Jennifer had obtained for them both, through her nightclub sources.

He went a bright red at the sight of his costume and vigorously shook his head from side to side. "No way!" he declared. "No way am I wearing that outfit and, as for your own costume... well you might as well go to this gig, buck naked!"

Barbara stuck out her tongue at him, then held up the pair of tiny black leather shorts in both hands and once more ran her eyes over them. "I think you'll look real cute in these," she insisted. She gave him a sultry pout. "Come on, Phil," she wheedled, "if you try on your outfit, I'll slip into my sexy slavegirl costume and practice calling you 'Lord' and 'Master'. You realize that, as your slavegirl, I will have to obey your every wish and command," she pointed out, with a wicked glint in her big green eyes.

Phil's earlier resolve was weakening by the second. His fevered imagination was already picturing the shapely redhead in her skimpy outfit. He felt his cock growing and straining at the front of his pants. He groaned in frustration. "You'll do anything I ask?" he queried, his imagination already starting to work overtime.

"Uh huh!" she confirmed, fluttering her long eyelashes, outrageously. Barbara could see that her handsome policeman was about to give in. She found it so easy to twist Phil around her little finger.

"Okay, but it doesn't mean I'm agreeing to our going to The Hellfire Club, wearing these ridiculous outfits," Phil added.

Barbara smiled and nodded, happily. "Fair enough!" She was sure she could convince him, once she got him into bed. "I'll go into the bedroom and change into my costume, while you get changed out here," she suggested, handing him the black leather boxer shorts and the rest of his costume.

"I'll never get into these!" he protested, as she scooped up her own outfit from the table and headed for the open bedroom door.

"Courage, mon brave!" Barbara called out, as she disappeared through the doorway.

Phil was proved wrong, but it turned out to be a pretty tight squeeze. The leather boxer shorts had a full length zip up the front and he had to be extra careful when zipping them up, in his highly aroused state. The leather vest was too small to fasten across the chest, but came with a huge medallion, which he hung about his neck by the attached gold chain. The kinky boots came up to mid thigh, with a full length zip on the inside of each. As he zipped them up, Phil wondered how Jenny had known his size in footwear.

"I'm, um, ready!" he called out, a little self-consciously, walking over to the closed bedroom door and rapping on it, with the knuckles of his right hand.

"Just give me a moment, darling!" came the reply from within.

A few seconds later, the door swung open and Phil's mouth fell open, as he caught his first glimpse of Barbara in her submissive slavegirl costume.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, his eyes moving down from her naked breasts to the skimpy black thong that clung to her mons veneris. She was also wearing hold up stockings, high heels and matching fingerless, full length gloves. "You... you look fantastic!"

Barbara eyed her boyfriend, critically. "That chest hair will have to go," the vision of delight declared, in a voice that brooked no argument.