Subject: RP:_Batgirl_vs._The_Crime...(2/5,FF,Bond,Adv)
From: "S.Sneakly" <sneakly@geocities.com>
Date: Sun, Oct 12, 1997 13:28 EDT
Message-id: <4808eli$9710121325@qz.little-neck.ny.us>


I've read and enjoyed several Batgirl stories over the past few years,
notably those by The Weatherman and Mr.X..  If you like this story check
out my homepage at:

http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/5268/
************************************************************************** 
_Batgirl_vs_the_Crime_School_for_Girls_

*Part II*
Pursuit to Pinkston Palisades

by S.Sneakly  (sneakly@geocities.com)
    Barbara closed her eye after watching Lady Peasoup disappear into the
predawn fog.  The cold steel of the iron rail pressed against her
cheek.  She tried to scream through the make-shift gag that was tied
over her mouth.  The gag was comprised of a thickly wound piece of cloth
pulled deep into her mouth.  It crossed behind her head and came back
across her mouth in folded layers, covering her mouth from nose to
chin.  Tied in the back, it was to tight to push aside by rubbing it on
the rail.  Her cries for help were totally useless.  She knew damn well
that the there wasn't anyone to hear them anyway.

    She struggled and kicked at her bonds.  If she pushed out hard with her
feet, the ‘dick stick' would pull the buzzing dildo about half-way out
her body.  Unfortunately, the farther the dildo came out, the more
intense the sensation became.  Its operational speed seemed to be
controlled by the depth of penetration.  Worse, as it came out it tended
to press harder at the front of her pussy, digging into her G-spot.  She
couldn't get the little beast all the way out anyway, so Barbara allowed
the dildo to slide back into her body.

    As the smooth metal toy slid back inside her, Barbara let out a muffled
groan as she shuddered in orgasm.  It was her third in what seemed as
many minutes.  If this was the fate that Penelope Peasoup had designed,
then Barbara was sure to be dead long before the train got to her.

    She tried pulling with her bound wrists.  Not surprisingly the dildo
pushed deeper inside. She could feel the back of her wrists brush her
utility belt.  She relaxed, letting the vibrator slide out to a more
comfortable position.  She let her hips grind slowly, lost in the
sensation of sexual bliss and bondage.

    The rope work was expertly tight.  Not tight enough to cut off blood
flow, but plenty tight when it came to range of motion.  Barbara wasn't
able to do much beyond wriggling uselessly, repositioning the vibrator
in her sex.  She couldn't even roll onto her stomach or stop her head
from resting on the cold, dew covered rail.

    She lay there, lost in a twilight of fatigue and ceaseless orgasm.  She
unclenched her fist, and let her hand slide on the smooth rope
connecting her bound wrists to her ankles.  She felt the rope briefly,
lost in dream, with out realizing the significance of it.
    IT WAS SMOOTH!!! 

    Barbara's brain clicked back to reality instantly.  The rope was
smooth, that meant that it was most likely nylon!  She struggled to get
a better grip on the rope.  She was feeling the through the material of
her gloves and was sure she was probably mistaken.

    With some effort she was able gab the length of rope. It was good
quality half inch triple-ply rope.  It felt new, but most importantly it
felt like nylon.

    Barbara was just starting to formulate a strategy when she felt an
almost imperceptible vibration coming through her cheek.  She knew what
it was immediately. It was the 4:20 headed for the Wayne Foundation
Trade School and Iron Works.  It was still a way off, but Batgirl knew
that the clock was ticking.  It was about four or so when Lady Penelope
had left her to be sliced to bits by the train, and the Wayne Works was
notorious for meeting deadlines; at all costs.  That meant that Barbara
only had perhaps five or ten minutes before the train crashed down the
siding into Gotham Harbor and dispatching Barbara.

    She pulled and jerked her body with all her might as she fought to roll
onto her back.  Using her head, she pushed herself up so that her back
was arched enough so that she was able to work her self on to her back. 
Each movement of her body sent the tip of the ‘Dick Stick' probing into
new and untapped regions of her pussy.  Her desperate attempts were met
with demonically intense orgasms pounding through her loins.  She was
sweating profusely despite the cool night air.  The droplets glistened
under the dim sodium lamps of the yard.

    After what seemed to be an eternity, she found herself precariously
balanced on her back.  Her body was arched into the air as she tried to
avoid toppling back onto her side.   The sharp heels of her boots were
dug into the loose gravel of the track bed while the top of her cowl was
pressed against the rail tie just outside the rail.  She could feel the
vibrations of the approaching train rumbling through the back of her
neck. 

    Resting for a moment, she glanced up the track as it disappeared into
the fog.  She suddenly had a terrible realization that her long supple
neck was laying exposed across the rail like a scrap of paper in a
scissor.

    She solidified her resolve not to succumb quietly to her imminent
defeat.  She was still alive, and she wasn't about to let a second
string villain get bragging rights to the demise of Batgirl.

    The next phase of her plan was much harder than the first.  She had to
reach her Batgirl utility belt.  To do that meant that she was going to
have to pull her bound wrists up her back.  The hog tie that she was in
was fairly strict, but Lady Peasoup hadn't discounted the erotic element
of her squirming captive.  She had allowed Barbara enough slack so that
as fought for freedom the dildo would grind her to a sexual oblivion. 
But to access her utility belt she needed bring the vibrator impossibly
far into her body. At least, she thought, the damnable thing isn't so
violent when it's deeper in.

    Barbara closed her eyes as she slowly walked her bound feet back. 
Every inch of slack in her hog-tie was paid for with another inch of
vibrating metal.  She pulled at her wrists and could feel the her hand s
moving slowly up her rump towards the small streamlined capsule on her
utility belt.  She occasionally halted the painstaking process when
another orgasm would run a shudder through her body.  

    Finally, she could feel the capsule with the back of her thumb.  But
she could also feel the textured metal on the hilt of the dildo touching
the lips of her pussy.  She knew she only had another inch or two to go,
but the rough touch of metal pressed hard against her pubis was not what
she needed.  A new rush of juices lubricated her as she came.  The
orgasm could only be described as paralyzing.  She could not move the
stick further.  Her body trembled, but she was unwilling to surrender
the progress she had made.  There would be no second chances.

    Eventually the aching, intense passion started to clear from her
loins.  As her awareness returned, she discovered by that some miracle
that she hadn't toppled over.  She was still precariously balanced
between her head and heals.

    Barbara lost no time in trying to grab the back of her utility belt. 
She had to maneuver the vibrator another inch into her pussy, but she
was desperate.  The rumblings of the train was slowly transforming from
a sensation to an audible hum.  

    Barbara fought on headless of the painfully deep penetration.  She
hooked the tip of her thumb over the tab on her belt.  She heard a light
pop as the tiny ampule snapped open and sprayed the highly concentrated
oxidant out.  She hadn't intended this method of escape to be fast
acting.  Originally the idea was to weaken any synthetic bonds over a
long period, while being transported as a captive, for example.  But she
hadn't field tested it yet and was optimistic that anything was better
than just lying there waiting to be sliced up by a train.

    Once the capsule had expended itself, Barbara tipped back over on her
side.  She badly needed relief from the throbbing pain of the ‘Dick
Stick.'  She extended her feet out until the ‘Dick Stick' had reached a
point of equilibrium that caused the least amount of discomfort. 
Working her wrists back and forth, Barbara tried to get as much of the
solvent as she could to work into the synthetic fibers.  Her plan
centered on the rapid oxidation of the polymers in the rope into smaller
fragments, hopefully making it weak enough to break.

    She kept working at the bonds.  The sound of the approaching coal train
was clearly audible and punctuated with the screech of its horn.  As
Barbara worked feverishly at the ropes thoughts raced through her mind. 
She had landed on her side so that she was basically in her starting
position. Facing the approaching train, her head laying across the
rail.  She wondered if the girl who had been sent to redirect the train
had done it correctly.  Perhaps she hadn't.  The train might just rumble
on to the its filthy destination with out ever knowing the drama of this
struggling young woman, bound and gagged tied across this dark remote
siding.

    Not fucking likely! Barbara had seen rail switches. It didn't take a
rocket scientist to figure out how to operate them.  If you could get it
to move at all, you could do it.  Those girls with Lady Penelope looked
at least that smart.

    Closing her eyes and bracing for the sudden change in attitude of the
Dick Stick, Barbara started to kick out with bound feet.  The dildo came
about three quarters of the way out, but ropes didn't budge.  She pulled
her feet back again, driving the dildo back into her pussy.  The smooth
metal body slid smoothly into her body.  Immediately she kicked out
again, straining at the limits of her hog-tie.  The ropes groaned
slightly as used what little leverage she had to push the bonds.  

    She repeated this four or five times before she opened her eyes. 
Barbara was groaning into her gag as she repeatedly penetrated herself
with the vibrator.  She had been oblivious to her surrounding as she
struggled to break free.  The first thing she saw as she looked up the
tracks was a small yellow dot that she hadn't noticed before.  She
kicked wildly at her bonds once she recognized that the dot was the lamp
of the approaching train!  She pushed and kicked desperately as the horn
roared in her ears.  The tracks seemed alive with screeches and quakes
as the seldom used siding groaned under the weight of the hundred ton
coal train.  Barbara knew that regardless of whether or not the train
crew saw her or not it would never stop in time to save her.

    Her muffled screams where totally obliterated as the screech of the
train's brakes and the wail of its horn signaled that the crew had
discovered that they had been diverted down the siding.  Barbara looked
into the now looming lamp.  The giant black form of the first of several
engines formed behind it.  She kicked even harder, oblivious to the
actions of the dildo.  

    Suddenly her feet kicked straight out, the dildo disappearing from
between her legs.  Without a second to loose she pushed and rolled
herself from between the rails.  She immediately felt the rush of wind,
the roaring draft as the train screamed by.  Barbara tucked into a ball
as the shrieking brakes showered sparks over her as they went towards
the end of the quay.

    Barbara stayed curled up like that shaking in fear and relief, even
after the explosive crashes and din had subsided.  When at last she
peeked up she saw that she was laying in the shadow of one of the
massive coal cars.  Her ankles knees and wrists were still bound, but
she didn't care.  She was still alive. Her body was weak and shaking
with excitement.  

    She looked down the track and saw a group of three men approaching. 
They were stumbling along like a pack of drunken sailors. Barbara could
see that they were soaking wet.  They must be the train crew, she
thought.  She immediately looked around for someplace to hide.  Thinking
quickly she rolled back under the now silent train.  She wasn't sure if
they had seen her on the track and wasn't interested in being found
bound, gagged and crotchless by a group of very upset rail workers.  
 
    The fact that they were walking away from the water was a good sign. 
It meant that no one had been killed in the wreck.  If somebody had
died, they probably would have stayed by the water.  As they walked
slowly back towards the main line, Barbara was able to hear enough of
their conversation to confirm that nobody had been hurt and that they
hadn't any idea that she was there.

    Thank God, she thought.  Batman was more than capable of standing
amidst the wreckage of a destroyed building, hospital or orphanage and
declaring it a victory for humanity, even though the villains escaped,
lives were lost and everything was easily preventable.  Barbara just
lacked that hypocritical bent.  She would always be over shadowed by the
egotistical platitudes Batman showered upon himself.

    She recalled the time that she had rescued him from the Joker.  He held
an impromptu news conference immediately, unaware that a large green
baseball bat was protruding from his swollen beyond belief rectum.  The
local press favored him by failing to mention that in their press
reports.  Instead they said that ‘despite grievous injuries, the Dark
Knight had made time to alert the public to the dangers of the criminal
elements in Gotham City.'

    She also recalled the time that she herself needed extrication from one
of the Riddler's devices.  Batman had refused to untie her, insisting
that it was a crime seen and could not be disturbed until the police
forensic unit had looked at it.  They used four rolls of film just to
photograph her tied up.  It was only at the insistence of her father
that officers stopped using the pictures as a screen savers and
wallpapers.  She still had her own Website (truth be told, she visited
it occasionally).  It was the only time that she ever saw Batman worry
about preserving evidence.  

    That God damned Bat-computer had shred more useful clues in any given
month than Batman had provided to prosecutors in any given year.  That
was one reason that crooks like the Penguin, Riddler, Joker, Catwoman
and even the lamer ones like Egghead were able to return to the
streets.  The only reason that Lord Phogg and Lady Penelope had been
given any hard time was that Batman and Robin had been so late getting
in on the capture.  They simply didn't get any opportunities to touch
evidence.

    Batgirl lay under the train and waited patiently for the voices of the
train crew to fade.  She needed a moment to relax and compose herself. 
She knew that the police would start showing up in fifteen or twenty
minutes, after the train crew found a working phone.  

    Her body was still quivering from the excitement of the adventure.  As
she slowly started to work the at the ropes again, Barbara started to
visualized how the scene of her tied in tight bondage, wriggling on the
train tracks must have looked.  The ropes were still dissolving from
their exposure the oxidant, but the progress was slow.  To occupy her
mind as she methodically worked the ropes she ran the experience through
her mind, visualizing herself from different vantage points.  She
imagined how she probably looked as Penelope Peasoup toyed with her
body, driving her to orgasm as she lay helpless on the tracks.  Then she
took the perspective of the giant locomotive rumbling down the track,
approaching the helpless crime fighter as she raced against time to
escape.

    As soon as Barbara had worked enough slack into the bonds around her
wrists, she reached around and started to finger herself.  The skin of
pussy was very tender from the ravages of the Dick Stick.  Barbara
didn't mind, the slight pain only reminded her of the closeness of her
call and the diabolical sensations of that she had just suffered
through.   She brought herself to orgasm almost immediately.  It was a
powerful and intense one much like the ones she had with Dick Stick deep
inside.  She liked it so much she indulged in another one.

    After satisfying her needs, Barbara resumed her efforts to extricate
herself from the web of knots that Lady Penelope had created.  Barbara
was impressed with the quality of rope work that had been incorporated
into her bondage.  She had never seen work this sophisticated before,
except possibly from Catwoman.  But she lived for bondage.  Catwoman
would often do kidnapings just to test new toys, and would even try her
deadly arts on her compatriots if they displeased her.

    Finally, after a lot of work Batgirl was able to free her hands.  She
could already hear the wail of the approaching police and fire trucks.
Once her hands were free she dispensed with the yards of ropes.  She
used the small knife in her belt to cut the rest of her bonds.

    As soon as she was free, she collected what little evidence there was
that she had been there and headed back to where she had hidden her
Batgirl cycle.  The big Harley wheeled out on to the main road just as
the first police cars came into view.  Barbara hadn't turned on her
lights, so she simply gunned the engine of the big bike and headed off
towards home.

    As she re-entered the her apartment through its secret entrance,
Charley, her Parrot, eyed suspiciously. "Don't say a word! I've had a
tough night!"  She looked at her self in the vanity's mirror.  She was
caked in sweat and soot from rolling around in the train bed.  Her black
hip-huggers were a total loss.  The hole that Lady Penelope had made had
spread so that she looked like she was wearing stockings and a garter
belt.  Charley let out a long whistle.

    "I think I'm starting to regret teaching you that trick, Charley."

    "Oh God, Ohhh God, Stop it Catwoman!  I can't take another orgasm!
Braaack!"

    "And I think I'll put your cage somewhere other than the bedroom."  She
eyed the little bird, wondering how he'd taste broiled with lemon.

    "Braaaack!"  He squawked, returning to his chew toy (a small headless
Batman action figure).    

    Barbara stripped down and started to draw a bath.  She walked back to
the vanity where she left Lady Penelope's Dick Stick.  She looked at the
attached vibrator.  She wiped it off with a towel.  Towards the base she
saw the manufacturer's stamp.

    "Another fine product of genital Electric."  

    Hmmm, thought Barbara, that was one of Pinky Pinkston's companies.  She
mooned for a moment over her lost love.  She and Pinky had been quite
the hot and heavy a couple of years ago.  Back when Barbara was still in
college and Bruce Wayne hadn't forced Pinky to file chapter 11.

    Bruce had been trying to get into Pinky's panties on and off for a
couple of years.  He was never much on dropped hints, including his
uninvited interruption of Barbara and Pinky getting it on in Pinky's
Jacuzzi.  When he finally did get the hint (a court order prohibiting
him from contacting her), he dumped all the Pinkston Enterprises stock
that he had quietly bought.  The overall market dropped almost a hundred
points and Pinky was ruined.

    Barbara looked closely at the dildo.  It was the kind of quality device
that Pinky prided her company on.  Beautiful craftsmanship and stylishly
designed, this was a product that would have taken the market by storm. 
If, of course, the company had lasted.  

    Barbara continued to examine the vibrator, reminiscing about the
lessons she learned under the soft touch of the beautiful
industrialist.  Then she stopped.  At first she didn't know, but then it
dawned on her: There was no model number on the case.  Nor was there any
certification from the Underwriter's Laboratory.

    This was a prototype!!

    Barbara knew Pinky far too well to think that she would have any
unsavory business dealings with unsavory characters.  But how did Lady
Penelope get hold of one Pinky's prototype dildos?  

    Barbara tossed Penelope Peasoup's Dick Stick under her bed with the
rest of her collection, and headed for her now full Bubble bath.  As she
lowered her sore body into the steaming tub, she tried to make sense of
this latest development.

    Pinky had left town over a year ago to try re-establishing her
businesses else where.  As far as Barbara knew the Pinkston holdings
were still dormant, the factories and warehouses all boarded up.  Lady
Penelope could be hiding in any one of them.

    But, Barbara mused, Lady Penelope fancies herself nobility.  She would
never cotton to the usual method of Gotham villains, using grimy old
factories for Her hide out.  No, if she wants to play at being school
mistress, she'll find something that has the air of a English public
school.

    Barbara let her body slide down into the soft lather of bubbles.  The
moment of danger was past and she wanted to loose herself in the suds
and mull over her next move.  She ran the bar soap over her body, around
her breasts as they buoyed lightly in the soapy water.  She ran it down
her body, cleansing her spirit of her narrow escape from Lady Penelope.

    Her thoughts moved back to the care free day days she spent at Pinkston
Palisades, Pinky's palatial place on a bluff overlooking Short Island
Sound.  The bar of soap moved over her thighs as she thought of the new
experiences that Pinky had opened her up to.  She fingered herself for a
while and enjoyed the type of pleasant orgasm only fond memories could
engender.  

    Lolling in her bath, still enjoying the thoughts of her past, it came
to her.  

    Pinkston Palisades!!!!

    Pinky often worked at home, and Genital Electric was just the type of
R&D Pinky liked best.  It also fit perfectly with Lady Penelope's
needs.  It was a large country estate, with a grand house in a secluded
part of Gotham.  It even gave her heavy the heavy fogs of Short Island
Sound.  Pinky had left the place completely furnished and Penelope
Peasoup could have found any number of things like the vibrator there.

    Barbara didn't waste a moment, she was out of the tub and toweling
herself off in moments.  This was a hot lead and, if she hurried, she
might be able to get the drop on Lady Penelope and her gang before they
realize that their little trap on the train tracks had failed.

    It was almost nine by the time Batgirl was wheeling her way towards
Pinky Palisades.  The morning fog had mostly burned off as she roared up
the deserted Shore Drive.  Barbara felt energized, riding in the warm
sun.  It was turning into a beautiful day, she had cheated death again,
and she was sure to get the drop on the bad guys!

    She pulled off the main road and headed cross country for the Pinkston
family home.  The big purple Harley wasn't at all suited to motocross,
but Barbara enjoyed the physicality of keeping the big bike going.

    Eventually, she came to the high brick and stucco wall that surrounded
Pinkston Palisades.  Barbara hid her Batgirl-cycle in the brush and
quickly scaled the wall.

    Barbara jumped down onto the well manicured grounds of Pinkston
Palisades.  Crouching low behind a tree, she surveyed the area.  The
grounds were still in the pristine condition that Pinky had always kept
them in.  The realtors must be footing the bill to keep the place
salable, Barbara thought.  The house was one of those vast stone manors
built in the thirties when unemployed masons were cheap and plentiful.

    Barbara sprinted across the vast expanse of lawn towards the main
house.  She arrived at the ivy covered walls and surveyed possible
points of entry.  The ground floor was out of the question.  Pinky had
always been a security freak, and Bruce Wayne, who lived down the road
had always given her the willies.  So the best thing to do was start at
the top and work her way around the building.  With fifty odd rooms,
Barbara thought she would eventually find an unlocked window or broken
latch.  

    The ivy made for an easy, uneventful climb.  Reaching the top, she
started to make her way around the build.  She made her way around the
building, peering in through the windows, careful to avoid detection.  

    After covering most of the third floor, Barbara came to a small turret
room on the north-western corner of the building.  She peered through
the glass pane.  It was dirty and etched from the years of weather. 
Barbara wiped at the glass with the her gloves.  With effort she could
see what looked like giant oak chair set in the middle of the small
room.  She almost moved on when she realized that something was moving
in the seat.  She looked harder.  

    Yes, she could definitely see it now, there was someone sitting in the
chair.  They seemed to be trying to wiggle, rather unsuccessfully, out
of the chair.  From the size and proportions, Barbara was certain that
the person was a woman.  Barbara continued to watch the scene.  She
quickly realized that whoever it was either strapped or tied to the
massive chair.  

    So, thought Barbara, Penelope Peasoup has taken up kidnaping in
addition to her new role in criminal education!!  Barbara hadn't seen
any routes of easy entrance, and there was somebody in need of help on
the other side of this window.  She couldn't leave her there in the
clutches of that fiend.

    Barbara grabbed the rain gutter above the window and jumped up and out,
she planted her feet on the center of the window frame and crashed
through.  She landed squarely in the middle of the room amidst a shower
of broken glass.

    The young woman tied in the chair scrunched into a ball as the shards
of window pain crashed on the floor.  She was a petit little blond
perhaps only twenty and barely five feet tall.  Her long hair had been
braided into pig tails and she was dressed in white cotton blouse and a
tailored navy blue skirt.  Her arms and wrists were bound behind with
broad black rubber straps.  Similar straps ran across her chest just
above and below her breasts, pushing them out in a somewhat unnatural
fashion.  The same strapping also bound her knees and ankles.  The ends
of the strapping on her knees were secured to the top of one chair leg,
while her bound ankles were tied diagonally to the bottom of the
opposing leg.  A broad piece of black rubber went around her face from
her nose to her chin, muffling her pleas.  A studded collar anchored her
neck to the hard wood back of the chair.  

    The bondage was tight, but it didn't look like Lady Penelope had set it
up with any of her usual diabolical snuff toys.  Barbara ran to the girl
and started to undo the strapping on her wrists.  "Look we have to
hurry, do you think you can climb down the ivy?"

    The girl nodded feverishly as Batgirl freed her from the constricting
straps.  As she unbuckled strap after strap, Barbara surveyed the room. 
It was unfinished and almost empty.  Aside from the massive oak chair,
there was only a small wood table with a stool and simple tea service.
The guard must have gone out for a moment.  

    "What's your name?" Barbara asked as she removed the gag from her
mouth.

    "April," the girl gasped.  "Thank God you found me!!  You've save me
from a terrible ordeal."  

    "Let's get out of here before Lady Penelope finds out you're loose." 
Barbara finished undoing the last of the girl's straps.  

    Batgirl moved back towards the window taking her bat-a-rang from her
utility belt as she went.  She was too pre-occupied with the problem of
trying to get herself and her rescued hostage out of Pinkston Palisades
to see April picking up the tea pot.  She was just starting to turn when
the bone china pot exploded on her cowl and sent crashing unconscious to
the floor.

HOLY BONDAGE BABES!!!! BATGIRL BLINDSIDED BY A BUXOM BLOND!!!! WHAT
INSIDIOUS LESSONS HAS PENELOPE PEASOUP TAUGHT THIS NASTY NYMPH!!!!!!
FIND OUT IN THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF _BATGIRL_VS_THE_CRIME_
SCHOOL_FOR_GIRLS_!!!!!
SAME BAT-GROUP 
SAME BAT-URL

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