Batgirl The Price Of Silence Ch 08

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.

Adventures Of Batgirl: The Price Of Silence

Chapter 8: Passion's Manacles

Eventually, the two girls had dragged themselves off to work, Jenny borrowing one of Barbara's sober business outfits, rather than having to sneak back to her apartment, to get changed first. Luckily, her vital statistics were almost the same as those of the shapely redhead, so the clothes fitted her pretty well, even if they were a little on the dowdy side, for her taste.

The two women saw little of each other, during the working day, mainly due to Barbara having to supervise the arrival and installation into a high security display cabinet, of one of the earliest surviving books in the world; a hand-written tomb of twelfth-century monastic life in rural England, in pristine condition. The book had recently been auctioned at Sotherby's of London, for over three million dollars, and purchased by a rich local philanthropist. It had been nicknamed the 'Glastonbury Tome' by the world press. The Gotham City Central Library, specifically Barbara, had had to arrange for extra guards to be hired, for 'round the clock' security, during the month it was to be on display to the general public.

Satisfied with the arrangements, Barbara nodded and smiled at the two uniformed guards. "I shall leave you gentlemen to your duties!" she said. She turned to leave. "Our head of security should be along shortly, to check out all the safe-guards, Have a nice day!"

-oOo-

About mid-afternoon, Brad Fleming strolled into Barbara's office without bothering to knock first.

"The security cameras are all in place around the exhibit," he announced, smugly. "If anyone tries to get their hands on that book, we shall capture the whole thing on video!"

Barbara looked up from the manuscript she was working on, and peered at him over the top of her spectacles. "Thank you, Bradley! I'm sure everything will be working perfectly, when the exhibition opens tomorrow morning?" she said, with a slight smile on her lips.

"Yeah, those infra-red alarm beams should take care of any attempt to steal it, not to mention those two beefy security guards!" Brad added, with a grin. "Oh, by the way, are these yours by any chance, Ms. Gordon?" As he spoke, he pulled an item from his pocket, and dropped it onto the desktop.

With a thrill of alarm, Barbara recognized her missing panties. "Er, ah, no, no of course not!" she blustered, going a bright shade of pink. "What on Earth made you think they were mine?"

"I, ah, I found them in that storeroom that you and Ms. Goodbody were in, yesterday! Maybe they are hers?"

"Of course they aren't Ms. Goodbody's!" Barbara snapped, before getting hold of her nerves. "They... They could belong to... to just about anyone! Anyone female, that is," she added, quickly.

"Funny, 'cause when I found them, they were still warm... and damp," he murmured, giving her a knowing wink.

"Well they DON'T belong to either of us!" Barbara blustered, blushing even deeper. "I suggest you take them away and throw them in the nearest trash can!"

"Hmm? No, I think I'll hang onto them a little longer," Brad replied, stuffing the flimsy item of underwear back into his pocket. "You never know, the owner might still want to reclaim them?" He was secretly elated. Barbara's reaction had been that of a guilty person, and had only confirmed his earlier suspicions.

-oOo-

Arriving home, Barbara wearily let herself into her apartment, and carefully locked and bolted the heavy door behind her. The last thing she wanted was any unwelcome visitors. As she stripped off her coat and walked into the bedroom, her mind dwelt on the vision of Cyril Smallpiece looming over her, a big grin on his weasel face, as she knelt before him, and meekly began to slide his impressive penis in and out of her widely-stretched mouth.

Surprisingly, she did not experience the feeling of utter revulsion that she'd expected. In a weird sort of way, it had been quite exciting, to be dominated by the puny little crook; to be treated like a mindless whore; to be forced to comply to his sexual demands.

She shuddered, and shook her head, as she stripped off her blouse and skirt, in preparation for a refreshing shower. "I really am becoming a bit of a slut!" she admonished herself, painfully aware that her nipples had peaked and hardened, as she unhooked her bra. She'd been amazed at how quickly she'd adapted to the hot throbbing shaft, forcing its way deep into her throat, as he pumped his hips back and forth. She felt herself growing wet, as she recalled his hot cum spurting down her throat, and how she'd eagerly gulped the gooey stuff down.

Red-faced with shame, she perched her shapely derriere on the edge of the bed, and removed her stockings and panties, then hurried into the bathroom to take a shower. "I wonder if he will return, and demand yet more sexual favors?" she asked herself, as she stepped under the warm, welcoming spray, and started soaping her naked body. She experienced a thrill of foreboding, or was it anticipation? "Or will he carry out his threat, and reveal Batgirl's secret identity to the world?" She shuddered at this awful possibility.

After she had soaped her body clean, Barbara rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, before drying herself on a large fluffy bath-towel. Humming a tune to herself, she stepped back into the bedroom, rubbing her still-damp hair dry on the towel. She came to an abrupt halt.

"Wha...?" she gasped, shocked by the sight that greeted her eyes. Lying sprawled out on her bed, completely naked apart from his ankle socks, was none other than Cyril Smallpiece, one hand casually stroking his stiff erection.

He gave her a broad grin. "Hi there, Bat-babe!" he greeted, cheerfully. "You sure took your time over that there shower. You been gettin' yourself off, babe?"

"How... How did you get in here?" Barbara gasped, clutching the towel in front of her naked torso.

"The same way that I got in the first time," he explained, grinning at her display of modesty.

"What do you want?" Barbara asked, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"You KNOW what I want, sweet cheeks," he murmured, with a confident grin. "My reward for keeping my mouth shut!"

"I-I'm not going to suck your cock again!" snapped Barbara, blushing a deep red at the recollection.

"As if I'd ask you to do anything you didn't REALLY want to do," he chided, with a hurt expression on his weasel-like features. "No, I just wanted you to play with this little toy that I found in one of your drawers!" He held up a pair of shiny police handcuffs. "Apparently, you're into the bondage scene, Ms. Gordon?"

Barbara's shoulders slumped. "What do you want me to do?" she asked, in a small, resigned voice.

"Just stretch out on the bed, with your hands above your head," he replied, innocently. "Minus that towel, of course! A superb figure like yours shouldn't be hidden out of sight!"

He sat up and slid off the side of the bed, watching as Barbara hesitantly pulled away the towel and took his place, then stretched out on her back, with her arms above her head.

"W-What are you going to do to me?" she gasped, in a frightened voice.

"Nothing much! I'm just gonna try out these cuffs on you," he murmured, leaning over and snapping one cuff about her right wrist, before slipping the chain and the other cuff, behind one of the ornamental, vertical bars of the headboard, then clamping the second cuff about her left wrist.

"There, now doesn't that feel real good," he asked, with a grin, "knowing you are now helpless, and completely at my mercy?"

Barbara tugged at the restraints, and felt her excitement mounting. "No! I-I mean yes," she gasped, as his hands closed over her naked breasts, fondling them, before flicking her nipples into hard, aching erection. "Uuuhh, aaahhh!" she gasped, writhing with pleasure. "No, please, you shouldn't! We mustn't!"

"Now, you know you love it," he murmured, climbing astride her supine form, and leaning over, to kiss her passionately on her panting mouth, while tweaking her nipples between fingers and thumbs. She could feel his stiff cock pressing against her quivering belly, as she squirmed beneath him.

"Unnngh, arrgghh!" she gasped into his mouth, arching her back up off the bed, while tugging at her manacles.

He broke this kiss, and stared into her big green eyes. "You know what I'm going to do next, don't you, my little sex slave?" he whispered.

She nodded, wide-eyed, offering no resistance, as his one hand slid down over her trembling stomach, and he began to rub stiffened fingers up against her rapidly moistening sex.

"Oh my!" she gasped, closing her eyes, her hips rising up off the mattress to meet his hand, her thighs parting, involuntarily. "Aaaahhhh! Please..."

As he rubbed and tweaked her swollen clit, and slid a couple of fingers inside her twat, testing her wetness, her eyes flew open, accusingly. "Well c'mon you bastard," she hissed, "if you're going to rape me, then get on with it!"

"Oh no," he retorted, shaking his head, and removing his hand from her crotch, "nobody can accuse Cyril Smallpiece of raping anybody! You want this as much as I do! You know you do! Ask me to fuck you nicely, bitch, and I might just oblige?"

"Nooooo!"

"Beg me, slut!"

"Make love to me, you bastard!" she cried, in sheer frustration, tugging at her cuffs, as she became more and more aroused.

"That wasn't very nice, now was it?" he murmured, disapprovingly. "Ask me again, politely!"

"Pleassse make love to me!" she groaned, turning her face away from him, ashamed to look him in the eyes.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch what you said, whore!"

"I... I said please, please screw me," Barbara panted, her face and upper chest red with embarrassment, tears glistening in her big green eyes, as she writhed her hips.

"You really WANT me to shove my big fat cock up your slutty little twat?" he murmured, enjoying her obvious embarrassment.

"Yes, yes! Oh, please... YESSSSSS! Stop torturing me, you.... Aaaahhhh!" She gave a loud gasp of pleasure, as he slid the head of his penis past the puffy outer labia of her sex, and eased himself deep within her.

"Oh yes, yes, that feels soo good!" she gasped, as he began to slide himself in and out of her vagina, his hands clutching at her buttocks, to help pull her onto him, each time he sank all the way into her eager vagina. "Yes, yes, yes, yes..." she gasped, as he slipped into a smooth, rhythmical fucking action.

"God, but you're tight!" Cyril panted, delightedly, as he felt her vaginal muscles clenching about his slick throbbing shaft, trying to keep him inside her, every time he partially withdrew, always careful to keep the bulbous head of his organ inside her pussy, before he plunged back into her depths again. He gradually increased his tempo, sensing her approaching orgasm, even as he neared his own climax.

Her breath changed to short panting gasps, as he continued to piston into her. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah...."

"Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh..." His own efforts were now accompanied by low, animal grunts, as he plunged into her, faster and faster. He could feel his climax rapidly approaching, as the pressure seemed to build in his balls. "Oh, sweet Jesus!" he gasped, plunging into her depths one last time, then ejaculating his hot spunk deep into her womb, in several thick, powerful spurts. "Aaaaahhhhh!"

As Barbara felt the first spurt of cum splatter against the walls of her vulva, her cunt began to spasm, as it triggered her own much needed orgasm. "Aaaagghh! Nnnngghh!" she gasped, through gritted teeth, arching her whole torso upward, as she started to cum, ramming her pelvis up to meet his.

As the spasms subsided, she sank back down onto the mattress, and Cyril collapsed on top of her, both breathing, heavily.

"That was the best fuck I've ever had," he finally gasped, rolling off her, to lie beside her on the bed, with a satisfied smirk on his weasel face.

"Rapist!" she retorted, a dreamy smile on her lips, her head thrown back against the pillow, both eyes squeezed tight shut.

Cyril climbed off the bed, and went into the bathroom to relieve his bladder, before cleaning himself up. When he returned, he pulled on his clothes, while staring at the naked, manacled woman, still sprawled out lewdly on the bed, fresh cum glistening on her belly and upper thighs, her wet pubic hair plastered against her mons.

She opened her eyes, and stared back at him, defiantly. "I hope this is going to buy your silence?" she enquired, ironically.

"For the time being!" he replied, with a low chuckle. "For the time being, my pretty little slut!" He glanced at his watch. "Well, I have to be going now, babe! A guy has to earn a dishonest dollar!"

"Hey, aren't you going to release me from these damned handcuffs?" Barbara protested, squirming and tugging at her bonds, to no avail.

"Hell, no! You're the famous crime-fighter and detective, after all! I'm sure you'll eventually figure out a way to free yourself from those cuffs?" he replied, with another chuckle. "Bye now!" With that, he disappeared out through the bedroom door, back into the living room, before exiting through the open window.

"Come back you bastard, you can't leave me like this!" Barbara cried, writhing in exasperation and arching her spine up off the bed. "God, what if Daddy drops by and finds me like this?" she thought, falling back onto the sheets, fresh tears glistening on her cheeks.

-oOo-

It was almost three-hours later, after contorting her body like an Olympic gymnast, and chaffing her wrists almost red-raw, in an attempt to free herself, that Barbara finally discovered the key to the handcuffs, under her pillow, where her blackmailer had left it, together with a neatly folded slip of notepaper.

"Highly amusing!" she hissed, through gritted teeth, as she maneuvered the key into the lock of her left cuff, and it sprang open, with a satisfying click. She quickly unlocked the other cuff, and rubbed her bruised and chaffed wrists, keenly aware of her throbbing, abused pussy. Despite her helplessness, or perhaps because of it, it had been the best sex she'd ever had with a guy, she admitted to herself, begrudgingly.

She climbed off the bed, and staggered into the bathroom for another shower. "At least I won't get pregnant," she muttered, darkly, as she stepped under the cleansing spray. In her roll as The Batgirl, she'd always ensured that she regularly took a contraceptive pill, just in case she ended up being raped or gang-banged by one or more of her criminal advisories. Now her precautions were finally starting to pay off!

-oOo-

When she'd dried herself, and eaten a cold snack from the refrigerator, Barbara dragged herself back into the bedroom, to ready herself for her evening patrol.

On a whim, she took out the kinky Bat-costume that Smallpiece had supplied, and slipped on the sheer black body stocking, without bothering to put on the thong first. She then sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled on the black thigh-length plastic boots, and zipped up the full-length zips, so that they molded themselves around her long, shapely legs. Finally, she pulled on the Bat-mask and cowl.

She stood, and swayed over to the dresser mirror, on the towering stiletto-heels, and placing her hands on her hips, assumed her famous Batgirl stance. Her dark areolas and narrow triangle of pubic hair, were clearly visible through the sheer, clinging material of the costume, and she watched her nipples harden and peak, at the sight. "Am I sexy, or what?" she growled, huskily, as she ran her hands down over her firm, out-thrust breasts, before letting one hand stray down to her pussy, and gently massage it.

"Mmm, that feels real good!" she murmured, closing her eyes, and gently rocking on her spiky heels. "Maybe I should go out on patrol like this, and give the low-life scum of Gotham a real eyeful?"

She gave a loud sigh, and opened her eyes again, staring at her image. "Don't be stupid!" she growled. "You'd be more likely to start a riot, than to stop one, you little idiot!"

Suddenly, her eyes alighted on the neatly folded piece of writing paper, on the dressing table, where she'd tossed it, unopened. She opened it out, and read the short message it contained:

Well done, Bat-babe. I knew you'd figure out how to get free, eventually, and I know how you get your rocks off, with the whole bondage scene. I've left a little reward for you, in the top drawer of your dresser, sweet-cheeks. I INSIST that you wear them to work tomorrow! They will make you feel real sexy, under those drab external work clothes that you insist on wearing.

Love and kisses, Cyril.

Barbara frowned, and pulled open the drawer. Inside was a bulky plastic bag. She took it out and emptied out the contents onto the bed. It contained a pair of black, spiky-heeled shoes, a pair of sheer, black, lacy-topped stockings, and a pair of black lace panties. She picked up the panties, and held them up to the light. She blushed. They were crotchless! "Damn him!" she swore.

Barbara decided to drive over to the Bat-cave, and find out whether the Dynamic Duo had got any leads on the whereabouts of the Joker?

-oOo-

"Hey, guys!" Batgirl greeted, cheerfully, as she slid down the Bat-pole into the Bat-cave below stately Wayne Manor. "Alfred said you were both down here, messing around!"

Batman and Robin both looked up from where they had been crouched over the Bat-computer.

"We are NOT messing around," retorted Batman, a little pompously.

"Hey, Batgirl, what brings you to the Bat-cave?" greeted the Boy Wonder.

"I take it you've heard that Jack Napier has escaped from Arkham again?" Barbara growled.

"Yes, Police Commissioner Gordon informed us of that unfortunate fact," replied Batman, nodding gravely. "We've just been running the Joker's typical modus operandi through the Bat-computer, trying to determine where he might be holed-up, or what his next diabolical criminal caper might be, so that we can catch the Clown Prince of Crime red-handed, but without success, so-far!"

Batgirl sighed, loudly. "Wouldn't it be a whole lot simpler to make a list of all Gotham's currently available super-valuable items, that are likely to tempt the Joker and his henchmen into stealing them?" she retorted, placing her hands on her hips, in her classic Batgirl pose.

"Well, er... well, perhaps!" admitted the Caped Crusader, reluctantly, coloring slightly.

"Holy Ingenuity!" exclaimed the Boy Wonder, smacking one gloved fist into the palm of the other hand. "Why didn't we think of that, Batman?"

Without a word, Batman tapped the relevant parameters into the search engine of the Bat-computer's criminal database. "Yes, why didn't I?" he muttered, under his breath.

Batgirl peered over his shoulder. "Why don't you try Google?" she suggested, with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Stay tuned for further erotic adventures of the Dark Damsel, same time, same Bat-channel! Er, Chapter 9 coming soon!