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Batgirl Risks All Ch. 01

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 1: Batgirl Goes Undercover


Sunday, 3:00 pm

Barbara Gordon wriggled into the tiny pair of sheer, lace-edged panties, and stared at herself in the mirror. "Hmm, they don't leave much to the imagination," the five-feet, nine-inch tall, twenty-five year old decided, as she picked up the matching half-cup bra, and prepared to slip it over her shapely 35C bosom. "Hmm, on second thoughts, I'll dispense with the bra," she decided. "It's not as if I really need one, after all!"

She tossed the flimsy garment onto the dresser, then sat down on the edge of the bed, to pull on a pair of sheer, black, self-supporting stockings, with lacy tops. "Good thing you've got the legs for this caper, girl!" she told herself, as she adjusted the seams, before walking over to the wardrobe and removing a gorgeous see-through blouse, with a lace-trimmed, plunging neckline, and a black, stretch Lycra mini-skirt.

She quickly slipped into the skirt and blouse, and then squeezed a pair of black, five-inch high stiletto heeled shoes onto her dainty feet.

She stood in front of the mirror, hands on hips, examining her 35-24-36 inch figure, critically. Her shapely breasts were clearly visible beneath the sheer top, and the short, black skirt barely reached down to mid thigh, just covering the tops of her stockings and hiding the pale, exciting expanse of naked flesh. The stiletto-heeled shoes added to the overall, sexy image forcing her to stand with her hips thrust forward, to maintain her balance.

"Well, you certainly don't look like the conventional image of a respectable young librarian!" she muttered, with a grin. "Better not let any of your friends or co-workers see you dressed like this!" She used both hands to slide her skirt up two or three inches, revealing the near transparent crotch of her panties. "Hmm, better be careful when you sit down!" she reminded herself. "Keep those legs firmly crossed, young lady!"

She walked back over to the bed, and picked up the copy of the Gotham Daily Gazette, and re-read the big, bold front-page headline, and the first few paragraphs:

Ivor Bigun Escapes!

Yesterday, Ivor Bigun, the recently convicted kidnapper and murderer, escaped from the maximum security wing of Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, where he had just started a life-sentence, after being found guilty of the kidnapping and subsequent murder of Fifi La Trix, young celebrity wife of Henry Marshall, the well known industrialist, and multi-millionaire. Police suspect that Bigun, who must have had inside help to break out of the heavily guarded asylum, may also be the infamous 'Mad Serial Rapist' who has terrorized the female population of our fair city, for the last five years, but since none of the victims are alive to testify, they cannot be sure.

Bigun was convicted, after being apprehended by those two famous costumed vigilantes, Batman and Robin, but unfortunately, they did not arrive in time to save the life of Fifi La Trix, who had been brutally raped and strangled, before they arrived on the scene. Bigun was captured, red-handed, with the briefcase containing the million-dollar ransom, still in his possession, and despite an impassioned plea for leniency, from his defense lawyer, on the grounds of diminished responsibility, the jury took less than two hours to record a unanimous verdict of guilty, and the judge gave him a life sentence.

Police Commissioner Jim Gordon has advised all female citizens to take special care, when venturing out late at night, and has promised to double the normal quota of officers on night patrol, until this highly dangerous felon is apprehended!

Barbara put down the paper. "Hmm," she mused, "no female can rest easy in her bed until this dastardly son-of-a-bitch is safely back under lock and key!"

Normally, this would have been a job for Batgirl, but she was aware that Bigun was a loner, who didn't mix with the rest of the criminal fraternity of Gotham City, so it was going to be a tricky job, getting a line on the mad rapist and killer. He differed from most of the other criminals of Gotham, in that he insisted on wearing a figure hugging black bodysuit, which included an enormous, silver 'cod-piece'. It was known that Ivor used to frequent the bars and dives of the 'red-light' district, and so she'd figured that that was the place to start asking questions. She realized that if she went there in her Batgirl persona, the low-life and scum who might be able to supply a clue as to his whereabouts, would clam up tighter than a Scotsman's sporran. So, she'd decided to infiltrate their sleazy world, disguised as a common hooker!

She sat down on the stool in front of the dressing table mirror, and applied a liberal quantity of mascara, eye shadow and blusher, to her face, before applying a thick layer of bright crimson lipstick to her full lips. "Now your own mother wouldn't recognize you!" she announced, with a chuckle, as she blotted off the excess lipstick on a tissue, and then popped a contraceptive pill into her mouth. "Better to be safe than sorry!" she murmured, well aware of the risks she would be taking.

She stood up and walked into the lounge, wobbling slightly, on the unfamiliarly high stilettos. "Let's hope I don't have to chase anyone, or make a hasty getaway, in these shoes and skirt!" she muttered, as she picked up her purse and prepared to leave. She felt almost naked, without the usual array of crime-fighting paraphernalia that she always carried in her utility belt, but she dared not take any of them with her, in her purse, in case someone checked out the contents. Apart from a small spray can of Mace, and a packet of condoms (well a girl has to be prepared for anything!), it contained the usual collection of female bits and bobs, plus a small wad of cash. She would have to rely on her unarmed combat training, in the event of trouble!

Sunday, 3:45 pm

Barbara took a cab down to the red-light district, noting that the cabby kept eyeing her, suspiciously, in the rear view mirror. "Keep your fucking eyes on the road, mister!" she snarled, trying to immerse herself in the unfamiliar role. The driver turned red-faced, and dragged his eyes away from her reflection.

The cab pulled up, in the dark, dingy surroundings of Belfry Street, and Barbara climbed out, deliberately giving the driver an ample glimpse of pale white thigh, as she did so. She was starting to enjoy her role. "Keep those bug eyes in your head, buster," she muttered, handing over the fare. "You aren't paid to see what's up there!"

The driver gulped and blushed, slightly. "Yeah, sorry Miss! You, huh, you better watch out for yourself. That 'Mad Rapist' character has escaped from the loony bin, according to the latest news on the radio!"

"Yeah, I know," she replied, giving him a friendly grin, "but I know how to look after myself!"

With that, the driver gave her a curt nod, gunned the engine, and drove off, quickly. This wasn't a part of town to hang around in, unless it was absolutely necessary.

Barbara looked around. The street was pretty deserted. She wasn't used to looking at the district from street level. She would normally be on the rooftops, as she carried out her vigilante night patrols.

Suddenly, a large sedan, cruised over to the curbside, and a guy stuck his head out of the window. "How much, beautiful?" he enquired, ogling her obvious charms.

"Around the world, or just some head?" she replied, without hesitation.

The man eyed her up and down, liking what he saw. "The full works!" he said, with a lecherous grin.

"Two-hundred bucks!"

The man's eyes opened wide with amazement. "Two hundred bucks!" he croaked. "No whore is worth that much! Who do you think you are, Batgirl?" He pushed his foot down on the gas, and drove off, with a screech of tires. "Stuck up little bitch," he snarled to himself, in frustration, as he glanced in the rear-view mirror.

Barbara smiled. That had worked out just fine, without her having to compromise her disguise in any way. She started to stroll down the street, swaying her hips, like a real tart. She was starting to really get into her character now! Up ahead, she could see two other girls approaching, obviously prostitutes, from their overtly sexual attire.

The short, blonde hooker, was wearing a peasant blouse, together with a short, black, leather skirt and thigh length, shiny plastic, high-heeled boots. Her taller, dark-haired friend was wearing a brief halter-top, tight, high-cut shorts, and high-heeled sandals.

As they approached, Barbara gave them a friendly smile. "Hey girls!" she greeted.

"Who the hell are you?" demanded the brunette, stopping in front of her, and placing her hands on her hips. "This is our street, sister!"

She prodded Barbara in the chest, with a long, red fingernail. "Nobody works this part of Gotham but us!"

Barbara was taken aback by the shear venom in her tone. "I, ah, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, taking a step backward. "I'm new at this game!"

The tall brunette stepped forward and jabbed her in the chest again.

"Not 'round here you ain't! Just get the fuck outta here, sister," she growled, "before I have to kick your pretty little ass!"

"There's no need to take that belligerent attitude with me!" Barbara retorted, becoming annoyed. "I've already apologized!"

"Shut your mouth, bitch, and move your ass, before I have to move it for you!" the hooker snarled, jerking a thumb in the direction Barbara had just come from.

"I'm sorry, but I don't wish to go in that direction," Barbara replied, going red around the ears. "So, if you'll please stand aside?" She went to brush the girl aside, with her right arm.

"You asked for it bitch!" snarled the brunette, grabbing Barbara's red-brown hair and dragging her to the ground.

Barbara yelped with pain, and tried to fight back, grabbing the hooker's halter top, with one flailing hand. There was a sudden tearing sound, and next second, the hooker's big tits were swinging free, one of them catching Barbara full in the face. "Ouch!"

"You little slut!" cried the angry brunette. "Well you asked for it!"

She grabbed at the frilly ruff of Barbara's flimsy top, and there was a popping noise, as buttons flew in all directions. The two girls rolled around on the sidewalk, scratching and snarling, like two alley cats.

"Give it to her, Angie!" yelled the blonde, jumping up and down with excitement. "Stuff the stuck up little bitch!"

Barbara managed to grab the other girl's wrists, and gradually managed to force them behind her back, acutely aware that her naked breasts were brushing up against those of her spitting, snarling opponent.

"Give up!" she panted. "Let's talk this over, like two adults, huh?"

The brunette's answer was a swift knee into Barbara's crotch. Barbara cried out with pain, and loosened her hold, as she doubled up. Taking advantage of the situation, the brunette tore her wrists free, and rolled over on top of the redhead, pinning both her hands behind her back, with one hand, while the other forced it's way into Barbara's panties, and grabbed a handful of thick pubic hair.

"Now who's on top, bitch?" gasped the sweat-streaked brunette, giving Barbara's beaver a savage yank.

"Yeow! Y-You are!" cried the redhead, blinking back the tears of pain. She was unused to fighting dirty.

"Rip her short and curlies off, Angie!" yelled the excited blonde girl.

"Show her who's the boss!"

"Now, who's gonna move her little ass outta here?" demanded Angie, giving Barbara's bush another painful twist.

"Aaaahhh!" Barbara gasped, her hips jerking, involuntary. "I am! I am! Please, I promise not to work your territory! Just let me continue on my way, pleassee!"

Angie grinned down at her opponent, and then released Barbara's hands from behind her back. "Okay Red," she murmured, withdrawing her hand from Barbara's panties, "but remember!" She reached down and grabbed the nipple of Barbara's left breast, giving it a vicious tweak. "Nobody works this street but me and Viv over there, got it?"

Barbara nodded, vigorously.

Angie climbed off Barbara, and allowed her to climb back to her feet.

"I'm s-sorry about your top!" Barbara mumbled, brushing the dirt from her stockings and mini-skirt, noting that both stockings were ruined, and she had broken the heel of one shoe.

"Don't worry about it Red, your own shirt don't look to healthy! Nice pair of tits though!"

Barbara blushed, and pulled her blouse about her chest, stuffing the bottom into the waistband of her skirt, before peering around for the missing buttons. "I-I think I should go home and get changed," she said, at last, realizing that she must look a terrible mess.

"Good idea, kid! You do just that!"

Sunday, 7:50 pm

Barbara stepped under the hot running water of her shower, and let the aches and pains slowly ease away. Her first attempt as an undercover operative, had proved a resounding cock-up, but she wasn't giving up that easily. A good crime-fighter always learned from her mistakes!

She picked up a bar of perfumed soap, and began to rub it into her breasts and belly, swiftly raising a thick, creamy lather. "Mmm, that feels good!" she murmured, closing her eyes and seeing the image of Angie's naked breasts, swaying, tantalizingly, just in front of her eyes, while her fingers slipped into Barbara's panties, and grabbed her pubes.

Barbara began to rub the soap lower, between her thighs, building a thick, soapy froth in her curly pubic growth. Angie's nipples had been hard and erect, she suddenly realized, as if the dark-haired hooker had been getting a real buzz from torturing her helpless, semi-naked opponent? Barbara gripped her soapy curls, and gave them a savage twist, imitating the action of her recent opponent.

"Aaaagh!" she gasped, as the pain shot through her lower belly, and her hips jerked. Her own nipples had hardened, and were now sticking out like organ stops. She slipped a soapy finger into her pussy, and began to ride it, while she tweaked her soapy nipples with the fingers and thumb of her left hand. "Aaaaah!" she sighed.

She felt an orgasm approaching, and slipped two more fingers inside herself, rubbing her thumb against her soapy clitoris at the same time, and swiftly sending herself over the edge.

"Oooh yes, yesss!" she gasped, as she climaxed. She writhed and twisted her hips, arching her back and raising her face up to the deluge of warm, clear water.

When the spasms had finally subsided from her sex, she washed away the remains of the suds, and stepped out of the shower, drying herself on a big, fluffy bath towel, before stepping into the bedroom, vigorously rubbing her hair dry.

She tossed the damp towel onto the bed and walked over to the dresser.

She felt under the front edge, and pressed the hidden button there. The dressing table, and a section of the wall behind it, swung inward, revealing a narrow secret passage. Hanging from a hook, on the back of the mirror, was her Batgirl costume and utility belt.

She quickly wriggled her way into the tight-fighting, purple body stocking, pulled on a pair of ankle boots, and buckled on her utility belt. Finally, she pulled on her mask and cowl, including the built-in longer red wig that helped to disguise her true identity.

She stared at her image in the mirror, with the big yellow and black bat symbol across her chest. "Time to get down to police H.Q. and find out whether there's been any progress in locating Ivor Bigun?" she told herself, as she turned and headed into the secret passage, on her way down to the Batcycle, parked in the secret underground garage.

Sunday, 8:55 pm

Commissioner James Gordon was glumly starring out of his office window, at the illuminated city night vista, when there was an urgent knock at his office door. "Come in!" he called, in a tired voice. He had been up for almost twenty-four hours, ever since the news of Ivor Bigun's escape had broken. He turned around to see the familiar, shapely figure of the Batgirl, stride into the room.

"Thank goodness you're here, Batgirl!" he exclaimed, rushing over to grasp her hand. "I've been trying to contact Batman and Robin, without success. I can only assume that the Dynamic Duo are out of town? You may be our only hope with this one!"

"I take it there has been no progress in locating Ivor Bigun?" she replied, with a small frown of disappointment on her lovely face.

"Nothing! It's as if he's vanished off the face of the Earth, Girl Wonder!"

"Hmm, I'm not totally surprised," she murmured, "but I was hoping you might be able to supply a clue, that I could follow up! Every minute he is at large, is a minute too long!"

Jim Gordon dragged his eyes away from the sight of Batgirl's shapely breasts, gently rising and falling, beneath her revealing, skin-tight Batgirl costume. "Er, what?" he asked, blinking.

She sighed. Her father really was getting too old for this job! "I said I was hoping you could provide me with a clue as to Bigun's whereabouts, Commissioner?" she said, gently.

"Er, no!" he replied, lamely. He was sure he could see the dark shadow of her pubic bush, through the sheer clinging material of her body stocking, and the little tease would insist on standing there, with her legs wide apart, and her hands on her hips. He felt his manhood stirring inside his slacks. "I do have every officer I can spare, out looking for him, though!" he added, seeing the look of disappointment on her face. "In some ways, she almost reminds me of my daughter, Barbara?" he mused.

"I'm sure you're all doing your best, Commissioner!" she said, walking over and patting him on the shoulder. "The poor old dear looks thoroughly dejected!" she thought. "I've already started to make discrete enquires in certain quarters," she added. "I'm sure they will eventually throw up a clue, that..."

Brrring, brrring! Brrring, brrring!

She was interrupted by the sound of the telephone ringing, urgently.

"Excuse me Batgirl, I'd better get that!" Jim Gordon, declared, pulling himself up to his full height, and briskly walking over to his mahogany desk. He picked up the receiver, vaguely aware of Batgirl, perching her shapely rear on the corner of his desk. "Commissioner Gordon here!" he said, into the mouthpiece.

He listened for some minutes, his face becoming even more serious than usual. "Yes... Yes... How long ago?... Yes... I'll be right over!"

He turned to Batgirl, who had crossed her legs, and was swinging one shapely appendage back and forth. "They've found the body of a girl in Central Park!" he said, huskily. "She's been raped and brutally strangled!"

"Bigun?" queried Batgirl, uncrossing her shapely limbs, and jumping, lightly to the carpet, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of pubic hair through the sheer material of her body stocking.

"Possibly! There are certain similarities with other sex murders that we suspect he may have committed!"

"Can you give me a lift to the scene of the crime, Commissioner? I'd like to check it out for myself!"

Jim Gordon shook his head, to clear the fog of fatigue that had built up. "Of course, Girl Wonder! I'll have my car brought around to the front of the building at once!"

Sunday, 9:15 pm

As Batgirl climbed into the unmarked sedan alongside him, Jim Gordon couldn't avoid a surreptitious glance at her long, lithe legs, and firm, jutting breasts. "She certainly is a lovely young thing!" he decided. "Probably time she got herself a steady boyfriend, and decided to settle down! With her looks and figure, she could have her pick of any man!" He briefly wondered what she looked like in the nude, and felt his manhood stirring, once again!
"Hadn't we better get a move on, Commissioner?" Batgirl asked, noting the strange, glazed expression in her father's eyes, as he stared at her.

"What? Oh yes! Forgive me Batgirl, I've been up for the better part of twenty-four hours!" He slipped the sedan into automatic, and pulled away from the curb.

"Do they have any idea how long the girl's been dead?"

"What? Oh yes, about two to three hours, but they'll know more precisely, after the autopsy!"

"Of course! You say the girl has been strangled?"

"Hmm, yes, but she'd been brutally raped first! Death was probably a blessed relief, for the poor creature?"

Sunday, 9:25 pm

The sedan swung into the park, and was stopped by a uniformed officer, in front of a hastily erected, wooden barrier. "Oh, it's you Commissioner," he exclaimed, recognizing his boss, "and Batgirl?" he added, belatedly.

"Where's the body?" Jim Gordon asked, in no mood for pleasantries.

"Over there, by the bushes, sir, where all the arc lights are, and people are milling about!" the officer replied, waving in the general direction.

Commissioner Gordon stared at him, suspiciously. "You wouldn't be extracting the Mickey, now, would you?" he enquired, coldly!

"Certainly not sir!" the policeman replied, trying to keep his face straight.

They parked the car, and made there way over to the scene of the crime.

"Let us through!" Jim Gordon demanded, brusquely, elbowing his way through a crowd of curious bystanders, held back by uniformed officers. "It is amazing how the ghouls seem to collect, even at this time of the night?" he muttered to the Dark Angel.

The girl was lying face up, sprawled out beside a clump of laurel bushes that partially hid her from the nearby footpath, legs splayed out, lewdly. She was naked, apart from a lacy garter belt and one torn stocking. The other stocking was tied tightly around her throat.

She was a peroxide blonde, Batgirl noted (she'd only bothered to dye the hair on her head), of about twenty years of age! She must have been pretty once, but now her eyes bulged, and a scream was frozen on her blue-tinted face. Semen still oozed from her darkly bruised vagina, running down her dirt-streaked thighs, into the short grass beneath her.

"Have the medical examiner looked at her yet?" inquired the Commissioner, of a fresh-faced, young detective, who looked as if he wanted to be sick.

"Yes Sir, but we're still waiting for the forensic boys to show!"

"And I suppose there's little doubt that sexual intercourse has taken place?"

The detective gave him a strange look. "No Sir! The M.E. discovered traces of semen in her vagina, anus and even her mouth! There were also liberal amounts splattered over most other parts of her body! He has taken some away for possible D.N.A. matching!"

Batgirl squatted down besides the female corpse, fighting back her natural revulsion. "From the look of these bruises on the insides of her thighs and lower belly, and the bite marks on her breasts, I should say she was very badly treated!" she exclaimed.

"T-There's s-something else!" exclaimed the detective, a look of utter revulsion on his handsome young face.

Batgirl, looked up, expectantly. "Yes detective?"

"It... it's her clitoris!" he stammered, blushing under her fixed gaze.

"What about it?" Batgirl asked, calmly.

"It... it's been amputated!"

Batgirl eased back the darkly bruised, fleshy folds, and stared at the bloody mutilation. Suddenly, she wanted to be sick! She looked away, and took a deep breath, before looking up at the Police Commissioner.

"The same as the other fourteen, unsolved sex killings, Commissioner!" she said, grimly.

"I'm afraid so, Batgirl," agreed her father, somberly.

"Have we discovered who she is yet, Detective...?"

"O'Malley, Miss! Not yet Batgirl! Whoever did it, took away the rest of her clothes, so it's going to be a long, difficult task!"

"Any clues from the stockings, or garter belt?"

"Afraid not! They're both well-known brands that you could get from just about any lingerie shop in the country! Expensive though! Our victim certainly wasn't a down and out!"

Batgirl looked up at him, with a superior expression on her face. "You didn't need the expensive underwear to come to that obvious conclusion, detective!" she said. "Just look at her hands. There's no dirt under her fingernails. They have been regularly manicured. Looks like she's had a regular pedicure too! No, this was a rich woman!"

The young detective looked suitably embarrassed, at missing the obvious. "So you think this girl may well have come from a well-to-do family?" he suggested.

"Exactly! Note that she has a deep suntan, apart from the area that would have been covered by her bikini bottom!" Batgirl added. "This woman has recently been somewhere hot and sunny! Somewhere where she could sunbathe topless! Further evidence that she came from a wealthy background!"

"Hmm! Well, at least that should help speed up her identification!" conceded the Commissioner.

"You did notice her perfume, Chanel Number Five?" Batgirl, asked the detective, with one eyebrow raised, rising to stand directly in front of him, with her hands on her hips, legs slightly apart.

"Huh!" The young detective dragged his eyes away from Batgirl's shapely, jiggling boobs. Her prominent nipples were clearly outlined, beneath the clinging, stretch material, and he could just make out her dark areolas. "Why, ah, sure I did, but I just couldn't quite place it!" he lied, blushing again beneath her penetrating gaze.

Batgirl squatted down alongside the corpse, again, pulling out a small magnifying glass from her utility belt. "See those faint lacerations and the bruising on her wrists and ankles," she murmured, beckoning the officer down beside her, and handing over the magnifier.

"I, er, I hadn't noticed them before!" admitted the shame-faced young man.

"Well, I think our victim was tied up and held prisoner somewhere, prior to her death! There's no signs of a struggle, in the surrounding undergrowth, or grass, so I suspect that she was murdered someplace else, and her body was then dumped here!"

"Hmm, sounds like a pretty good theory, to me, Batgirl!" the detective agreed, his admiration for the Girl Wonder increasing by the minute, as he handed back the Bat-magnifier.

Batgirl, scoured the surrounding area, but the killer had been scrupulously thorough, and there were no other clues to be found.

"Perhaps we should be getting back!" the Commissioner suggested, eyeing Batgirl's shapely backside, as she crawled around in the long grass, searching for clues. "You can sleep at my place, if you like, Batgirl? It will save you the long journey home, wherever that is?"

Batgirl climbed to her feet, brushing the grass from her knees. "That's very kind of you, dadd..., er, Commissioner, but I think I should be getting back to base! If you could just drop me off at headquarters, I can pick up my Batcycle!"

Jim Gordon nodded, glumly. "You're absolutely right, of course!" he agreed, leading her back to the sedan.

The young detective watched, as Batgirl's pert bottom disappeared into the sedan. "With Batgirl on the case, it should soon be solved!" he told himself, brightening up considerably.
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