Batgirl: the Price of Silence

Author's note: This story is not so much about the adventures of Batgirl, but more about the developing sexuality of Barbara Gordon. The storyline continues from that of 'Batgirl Risks All' and re-introduces the character of Jennifer Goodbody A.K.A. Sparrow.

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 6: Batgirl Sinks Deeper

As Batgirl strode, purposefully, along the corridors of Police Headquarters, on her eight-inch spiky heels, trying not to sexily sway her shapely ass and failing, miserably, her passage was accompanied by a chorus of hoots, wolf-whistles and lewd remarks, unbecoming officers of the law. She found herself blushing, furiously. Her shapely unfettered boobs, bounced against her ribcage, with every step, her prominent nipples raising small peaks in her sheer clinging costume. "I'll strangle that Smallpiece, when I get my hands on him!" she promised herself, trying to ignore the near pandemonium that her entrance had created.

With a sigh of relief, she reached the office of Police Commissioner Gordon, and knocked on the door, ignoring the leering crowd who had gathered.

"Enter!" called the familiar voice of her father.

After a moment's hesitation, Batgirl took a deep breath, much appreciated by the gathered audience, opened the door, and stepped inside.

"Batgirl, thank goodness you're here!" exclaimed Jim Gordon, rushing over to grasp her hand and shake it, vigorously. "I've been trying to contact Batman and Robin on the Bat-phone, but without success! Apparently the line has been temporarily disconnected, due to some misunderstanding over payment of the telephone bill and, unfortunately, I've misplaced Batman's cell phone number!"

"Never mind that Commissioner, I'm here now! What appears to be the problem?" Batgirl asked, placing her hands on her hips, and striking her usual superheroine pose. Her vertially unfettered breasts, jiggled, sexily, demanding attention.

"Um, er, what?" Jim Gordon had belatedly noticed Batgirl's revealing costume, and his bulging eyes were riveted on her round, gently swaying mammaries, with their erect nipples and large dark areolas clearly visible through the sheer, clinging, skin-tight material. His eyes traveled downward, and paused at the junction of her thighs, where a tiny triangle of black material, barely managed to hide her sex from his gaze. "Is that a tuft of pubic hair peaking out of the top of her G-string?" he wondered, absently.

"Why did you summon me here, Commissioner?" Batgirl asked, impatiently, swaying her hips, as she tried to maintain her balance on her sky-high heels.

"Er, is that, ah… is that a new Batcostume?" enquired the Commissioner of Police, almost drooling.

Barbara blinked twice, then blushed, despite herself. "Er, yes it is, Commissioner!" she replied, dismissively. "Now, about your signal for help?"

"What? Oh… yes, the reason for this meeting!" the embarrassed lawman replied, looking up into her eyes, while pulling out a handkerchief, and moping his damp forehead. "I, ah, I have been informed that the evil master-criminal, Jack Napier, has escaped from the high security wing of New Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane!"

Batgirl frowned, trying to recollect the name. "Who?"

"Jack Napier, The Joker!"

"Oh, ah, yes, of course! Is that evil, green-haired psychopath, at large once more?" Batgirl gasped, a gloved hand reflexively clutching at her chest and cupping her right breast. The Joker was probably the most dangerous of all her criminal adversaries, with the possible exception of Ivor Bigun, the serial rapist and murderer.

"Lucky hand!" thought the Commissioner, as his eyes took in the whole of her new outfit. It was unbelievably sexy, especially those black, tight-fitting, high-heeled thigh boots, and that black, clinging thong!

"Er, yes, I'm afraid so, Batgirl," the Commissioner confirmed, sadly, shaking his head. "None of us will be able to sleep easy in our beds, until that evil Clown of Crime is put back behind bars! By the way, don't you, ah, find it awkward to, ah, run, in those… um, stiletto heels?"

"You get used to them!" Batgirl retorted, impatiently, wishing her father would stick to the subject. "Do we know how The Joker managed to escape from the asylum, Commissioner?"

The Commissioner shook his head, sadly. "I'm afraid not honey, er, Batgirl! He just vanished out of his cell! The door was still locked, and none of the staff saw him leave! You can be sure he will soon be back to his old tricks, committing some dastardly criminal caper, or other?"

"Hmm? In that case, I shall have to put out some feelers of my own?" Batgirl murmured, perching her shapely ass on the corner of the Commissioner's desk. She crossed one thigh over the other, then swung the raised leg back and forth, hands clasped about the knee. "Have you any thoughts on the matter, Commissioner?"

"It's a lovely ass… um idea, Batgirl! Could you also contact the Caped Crusader and the Boy Wonder, while you're at it, and inform them of the Clown of Crime's escape? In the meantime, I'll continue to try to contact them from this end!"

"No problem, Commissioner!" Batgirl stood up to go, then bent over, her shapely ass raised toward the policeman, literally just an arm's length away.

Jim Gordon broke into a heavy sweat, as he stared at her delicious ass-cheeks, and slightly parted thighs, imagining himself slipping his cock into her tight pussy. "God, what a prick tease!" he thought, with a silent groan.

The heroine straightened up and turned back to him. "You dropped this pencil on the floor, Commissioner!" she said, handing it over, with a smile. "Waste not, want not!"

"Er, thank y-you, Batgirl!" he stuttered, as she spun on her high-heels and exited the office, with a sexy sway of her hips. His hand was already starting to unzip his fly, to relieve the discomfort caused by the raging hard-on he had developed.

-oOo-

Brad Fleming finished installing the miniature video camera in the corner of the ceiling in the Manuscript Archive storeroom, checked that it wasn't obvious, then returned to his office and ran the security software on his desktop computer. He chuckled, as the wide-angle digitized view of the storeroom appeared on his flat-screen, TFT color monitor. He then configured the software so that it would start the camera running and save the image to the hard disk, only when the associated motion sensor was triggered. He didn't want to waste time staring at pictures of a dark, deserted room.

He leant back in his chair, hands linked behind his neck, with a satisfied smirk on his face. "Now let's see what we can get on the 'High and Mighty' Ms. Barbara Gordon, and that dyke Research Assistant of hers?" he muttered, licking his lips in anticipation. He squeezed his cock through the material of his pants. The truth was, Brad was a misogynist, and secretly hated all women. His main aim in life was to hurt and humiliate them at every available opportunity, preferably after he had just fucked them!

He took out the lacy wisp of female underwear from his desk drawer, and held it up to his nose, and inhaled deeply. He could still smell the clinging, unmistakable scent of female arousal on the gusset of the panties. If there was one thing he hated more than stuck-up female bosses, it was stuck-up lesbian bosses! They all deserved to be fucked in the ass, by some well-endowed real man, such as himself, until they cried out in pain and humiliation. If his plan worked out, that might be a distinct possibility, in Barbara Gordon's case.