Batgirl: Sadist or Masochist Ch. 06byAngelique Bouchette©
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 6: The Victim Count Rises
November 17th, Industrial Ruins, South Side
The two caped crimefighters cautiously picked their way over the undulating heaps of rubble and rusting ironwork, in the dim light cast by the waxing crescent of the moon, high in the clear, star spangled heavens. They were moving toward an artificially illuminated area of the long abandoned industrial wasteland, some fifty yards further on. The police department had cordoned off the area and set up bright arc lights, at the location where the body had been discovered. It had been stumbled upon, earlier that evening, by an old hobo, looking for somewhere to shelter for the night. The corpse was close to the crumbling remnants of a low brick wall, all that remained of some old industrial building, whose former purpose had long since been lost to antiquity. There was considerable police activity going on around the site, with flashguns going off, as the scene of crime boys went about the routine task of recording the position of everything, prior to anything being disturbed. The flashing blue lights of several police patrol cars and a waiting ambulance, were visible, a hundred yards off to their left.
A bulky figure in a police uniform, stepped out of the gloom and placed a gloved hand against Batman's chest, stopping him in his tracks. "Hold it right there, buddy," the cop growled, his other hand hovering close to his holster, which held a standard police issue, Heckler and Koch semi-automatic. "Just where do you guys think you're going?"
Before the Caped Crusader could respond, recognition dawned and the policeman took his hand away from his gun and took a step backward, with an embarrassed expression on his face. "Sorry, Batman, I didn't recognize you in the darkness."
"That's all right, Officer, you were merely doing your duty. We're here at the Police Commissioner's behest. Is Jim Gordon around, by the way?"
"Yes, Sir! He's over by the body, talking with the Police Doctor, Caped Crusader," replied the young policeman, pointing toward the brightly illuminated area.
The Caped Crusaders made their way over to the crime scene. They were both now wearing their familiar crime-fighting garb; Batman in his dark grey and black, Kevlar reinforced body stocking with the yellow and black Bat-symbol on his chest, black combination Batcowl and mask; Robin in his usual lurid red, yellow and dark green combination, with the 'R' symbol on his tunic, and his black eye-mask.
As the ring of lawmen parted to let the newcomers through, the Police Commissioner looked up, at the sudden commotion that their arrival had created. "Batman, Robin, thank goodness you're here!" he exclaimed, a look of relief flooding over his stern features. "I'm afraid another young woman has been murdered by suffocation, Caped Crusader."
The Dark Knight walked over and nodded a greeting to the duty doctor, who was squatting beside the girl's body, before turning back to the grey-haired policeman. "Same M.O. as the others, Jim?" he enquired.
"I'm afraid so, Caped Crusader, but this girl was of mixed Asian and Caucasian blood... very beautiful!"
"Hmm?" Batman squatted down alongside the corpse. The girl was quite tall and slim, but with unusually large breasts for one of her ancestry. She was lying on her back, legs sprawled wide apart, totally naked, apart from her high heeled footwear and the clear plastic bag that had been tied into place, over her head.
"I was just about to remove the bag from her head," the medic explained, unfastening the twine that held it tight about her neck. He carefully eased off the plastic container with his surgical gloved hands, revealing a glorious crown of raven colored hair about a once pretty, almond eyed face. The girl's eyes were wide open with panic. She had apparently died, struggling for her last breath.
The doctor sighed, regretfully. "She died of asphyxiation, of course," he informed his caped companion. "There are no obvious signs of any other possibly fatal injuries on the body, just a few minor cuts and bruises."
"Was she tied up when she was discovered?" the Dark Knight enquired, noting the apparent lack of any bondage.
The doctor shook his head. "No, but there are marks around her wrists and ankles, where something, possibly some sort of manacles, have been tightly attached. You can clearly see the bruising and skin lacerations," he added, pointing them out to the Dark Destroyer.
The Caped Crusader nodded, noting the vibrator still obscenely sticking out of the girl's sex. "Have you turned the body over and checked her other side yet?" he asked.
"N-No, I've been waiting for the police photographer to finish up first. He's just informed me that he's taken all the photographs he needs, so we can now turn the body over."
"Then let's do it! I'll take her torso and you take her legs. Ready, Doc? Heave!"
With a wheezing grunt of effort from the doctor, the two men rolled the girl's body over onto her stomach.
"Jeez!" the doctor gasped, his eyes growing wide with shock and dismay. "I-I hadn't realized."
The whole of the girl's back, bottom and upper thighs, were a bloody criss-crossed network of deep lacerations, obviously administered by someone wielding a whip with considerable savagery. A second, battery powered dildo, was sticking out from between her shapely asscheeks.
"She must have been a very brave lass," the Dark Knight muttered, trying to remain calm and objective. "This sort of sadistic beating would have probably caused heart failure in the majority of victims. The poor kid must have been in agony, just before she died." He idly noted the butterfly tattoo on the girl's left buttock. The skin was still inflamed around the immediate area, suggesting that the tattooed skin had not had time to fully heal, prior to her gruesome demise.
Batman rose to his impressive full height, his gauntleted hands clenched together, as he tried to remain calm and detached. He cleared his suddenly dry throat. "Let me know the result of the full autopsy, Commissioner," he growled, as he approached the white-haired senior policeman. "I'll let you know my thoughts, once I've had chance to mull them over. Let's go, Boy Wonder!"
November 18th, Gotham City Central Library, 10: 35 am
Jennifer was sitting at her desk, going through a hastily scribbled list of tasks she had to do that day, prioritizing them in order of importance, when her desktop telephone started ringing.
Brrring, brrring! Brrring, brrring!
She picked up the receiver. "Jennifer Goodbody speaking. How may I help you?" she said, in her best professional sounding telephone voice.
"Jen, is that you?" queried the voice at the other end of the call. "This is Annabel, Annabel Brown!"
The bubbly blonde's face broke into a broad smile. "Annie, how nice to hear from you. I haven't seen or heard from you for absolutely ages. Where are you working, nowadays?"
"I'm stripping at 'The Pink Pussy' in town, five days a week. The money's not bad, but it's a bit of a crummy dive," her exotic dancer friend revealed, with a dry chuckle.
"I miss you girl. We must get together for a girl's night out, on your next day off," Jen insisted. She had developed a genuine fondness for the pretty colored girl.
"That's why I'm calling, Jen. I've been invited to this party at Lew Hafnor's mansion, tonight, and..."
"Lew Hafnor? Not THE Lew Hafnor, the millionaire playboy?" Jenny gasped, her eyes widening with surprise. "Gosh, you lucky so and so!" she added, a little enviously.
"Uh huh! Anyway, the invitation allows me to bring a friend along, as long as that person is female and good looking, and..."
"That sounds like Lew Hafnor, all right," Jenny interrupted. "The man constantly surrounds himself with some of the world's most beautiful women, according to everything I've read about the guy."
Annabel gave a throaty chuckle. "Yeah, he's not too keen on having any male competition around, is he? Anyway, how about you and me going together? I'm sure we would have a real ball!"
"Wow! Do you really mean that?" the blue-eyed blonde gasped, excitedly.
"Of course I do. You're my best mate, aren't you?"
"Of course I'll come, but what should I wear?" Jenny wailed.
"Just wear something that's sexy and shows off your figure, but not so risqué that you get arrested before we even get there," Annie advised, with an amused giggle. "Look, I'll drive over and pick you up at your place, 'round about eight o'clock, if that's alright with you?"
"Great! I can't wait," Jenny gushed, her mind already sorting through all her party outfits and discarding most of them as far too plain and boring.
"Oh, by the way, I saw your friend, Barbara Gordon, last night. We were both at 'The Hellfire Club', that new nightclub that's recently opened in town. It was their monthly BDSM convention."
"Oh?" Jennifer's neatly plucked eyebrows nearly shot off the top of her forehead.
"Hasn't she mentioned that she saw me there?"
"N-No, but I've been so busy this morning, that we haven't had time to get together for our usual tête-à-tête yet."
"That explains it. Say hello from Annabel, when you see her. I'm sure she'll remember me."
"Yeah, will do, Annie, and thanks for the invite."
"Pick you up at eight and don't be late. See you then! 'Bye, Jen!"
As soon as it reached lunchtime, Jennifer hurried off to Barbara's office.
She tapped on the glass pane of the open door. "Alright if I come in, Barbara?" she enquired.
Barbara looked up from her work and smiled. "Hi, Jen! Come on in. I missed your cheerful smile at coffee break this morning."
Jenny walked over and sat on the corner of the redhead's desk, before replying. "Yeah, sorry about that. I've been rushed off my feet all morning and couldn't make it. Anyway, that's enough about me, what happened last night?" she added, eager to hear all the salacious details.
"You know what happened, I went to 'The Hellfire Club' with Phil."
"And?" Jen prompted.
"And we asked around, to find out if either of the first two murdered girls were known to the people who attended, without any luck, I'm afraid."
Jennifer's face fell, then her eyes opened wide, as the full impact of Barbara's words struck home. "Hey, wha'd'ya mean 'the first two'?" she asked, curiously.
"Oh, didn't I mention it? The police found a third girl who'd been suffocated, late last night. The Dynamic Duo went to investigate."
"Did she turn out to have a butterfly tattoo on her ass, like the other two victims?"
"I don't know yet, Jen. I haven't spoken to Batman today, but I suspect that that will probably turn out to be the case."
"Hmm? I've heard that you met my friend, Annabel Brown at the club?"
Barbara's eyes widened. "Word soon gets around. Yes, I did. Annabel really is one of the most gorgeous girls I've ever met, Jen. She said that you and she were good friends."
"I hope you two got along alright?"
Barbara smiled. "You need have no fears on that score, Jen. We got on like a house on fire. Anyway, how did you find out about our meeting?"
"Annie phoned me this morning and invited me to go to this party with her, tonight. It's at Lew Hafnor's place."
"And are you going?"
"Are you kidding? Of course I am! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!"
"You do know that Annabel has already done some BDSM modeling for Hafnor, don't you?"
A look of surprise crossed the blonde's face and she shook her head. "No, I didn't know that. I didn't even know that Lew Hafnor was interested in bondage."
"Oh, yes! Apparently he already owns a couple of leading BDSM websites and is about to launch a new BDSM magazine. He's offered Annabel some highly lucrative modeling work for it."
"Gosh! I wonder if he needs any more models?"
Barbara smiled. "From what I hear, he likes his women to be a little more, um, 'well blessed' on top, dear."
She went on to describe the events of the previous evening in greater detail, but carefully avoided mentioning some of the more spectacular and erotic moments.
November 18th, Wayne Manor, 10: 01 pm
Barbara had decided she would leave her chat with Batman until that evening, when she would visit him in her Batgirl persona, to learn the latest information on the most recent of the serial killings, including any further details thrown up by the police autopsy. She had been rather neglecting her alter ego of late and missed the feel of her sexy, clinging Bat-costume and the admiring looks it always engendered from both males and females.
As the Dynamic Daredoll approached stately Wayne Manor, which was situated just beyond the city limits, on her high powered Batgirlcycle, she placed a call through to the house, using her hands-free cellphone.
"Bruce Wayne's residence, Alfred the butler speaking," a very English sounding voice declared, in her earpiece.
"Alfred, this is Batgirl. Can you open up the entrance to the Batcave please. I'm coming in on my motorcycle. Please inform your employer, that I shall be arriving in about five minutes."
"Very good, Miss!" The connection went dead.
The Caped Cutie revved the powerful engine, enjoying the throb of the powerful machine between her thighs.
As she roared into the underground cavern and screeched to a halt, astride her powerful machine, the Dark Angel saw the two Caped Crusaders waiting for her, standing over near the Bat-computer. She switched off the four stroke engine, dismounted and placed the machine on its stand, before pulling off her crash helmet with its dark visor, and hanging it from the rear of the pillion. Underneath the safety headgear, she had been wearing her familiar mask and cowl, with its small pointed bat ears. Her curvaceous figure was clad in the usual sheer purple catsuit, with the familiar yellow bat emblem emblazoned across her shapely chest. As usual, her bright yellow utility belt, was slung low on her flared hips.
Batgirl's high-heeled ankle boots, click-clacked on the stone floor of the cavern, as she strolled over to her fellow costumed crimebusters, swaying her hips, sexily.
"Hi, guys!" she cheerily greeted, pausing to adopt her usual sexy Batpose, legs astride and elbows sticking out with hands placed on her hips. "What's new?"
Batman gazed at her revealing costume, with a jaundiced eye. The Dynamic Daredoll's breasts were clearly visible through the sheer, clinging material, as was the skimpy black thong clinging to her hips. He sighed. "You didn't have to come here personally, Batgirl," he replied. "I could've brought you up to date over the telephone."
She smiled and walked over to him, deliberately swaying her hips, sexily. She placed the widespread fingers of her left hand against the bat symbol on his chest and gently caressed it, before answering. "I prefer to hear the details face to face, in person," she murmured, huskily.
Batman smiled, then turned to face his trusty manservant, who had been hovering in the background. "Could you rustle up a pot of tea, Alfred, while I bring Ms. Gordon up to date?"
"Yes, Batman! Right away, Sir!" The butler turned and scurried away.
"Have a seat, Batgirl," the Dark Knight offered, indicating, with a nod of his head, the small conference table with half a dozen chairs about it, just a few feet away.
The three of them sat down. Robin hadn't said a word throughout the brief exchange, but his eyes had been working overtime.
"So, what have you learned about the third victim?" Batgirl asked, tersely, crossing one long shapely leg over the other.
"She was a tall, shapely, 19 year old Chinese girl, suffocated by a clear plastic bag tied over her head. She had been gagged with a red ballgag and plastic vibrators had been fully inserted into both her vaginal and anal passages." The Caped Crusader watched a brief look of distaste cross Batgirl's lovely face. "Well, you did want the unvarnished truth, didn't you?" he asked, with a grim smile.
"Get on with it!" she snapped, a little annoyed that he had picked up on her emotional distress.
"Her back and buttocks had been ripped to shreds, almost certainly by some form of severe whipping. Unlike the other two victims, she was not tied up, but there was undeniable evidence that her wrists and ankles had been recently manacled. I was amazed that the poor girl had survived such a vicious beating, only to be suffocated shortly afterward. Her body was dumped on some industrial wasteland in the south of the city, shortly after her death, where it was discovered, late last night, by a passing tramp."
"Have the police managed to I.D. the victim yet?"
"Yes! She had been reported missing by her father, a well-known restaurateur in Chinatown, some four days previously. The victim's name is Zhang Woo. She vanished while taking the previous day's restaurant takings to the bank for her father. At first, the police regarded the case as one of a robbery that may have gone wrong, rather than an abduction, but when she didn't quickly turn up, they reluctantly changed their opinion."
"What about the tattoo?"
"Oh, yes, I forgot to mention that, didn't I? There was the usual small butterfly tattoo on the left buttock, just like with the previous two victims."
"So, there's no doubt now, that this was the work of our serial killer.
"We must catch this sadistic bastard, before he kills any more innocent young women!" Batgirl snarled, angrily, thumping the table with a gloved fist and inadvertently causing her breasts to jiggle within her clinging costume.
At this point, their discussion were interrupted by the return of Alfred, who was carrying a tray containing a large pot of tea, a jug of milk, a bowl of sugar, and three delicate china cups and saucers with a pretty floral motif.
The old family retainer, placed the tray on the table top. "Shall I be mother?" he enquired, in his pronounced English accent, looking at each of them in turn.
November 18th, Barbara Gordon's Apartment, 11:10 pm
With a quiet click, the dressing table, along with a section of wall, swung inward on its hidden hinges, and Barbara stepped into her bedroom. The dresser quietly swung back into place behind her, hiding the narrow secret passageway and staircase, which led down to the compact concealed garage at the rear of the apartment block, where she had just parked her Batgirlcycle.
She sat on the side of the bed and pulled off her cape and cowl, with an exasperated sigh. The victim count was rising and they didn't appear to be getting any closer to solving the case. After pulling off her spike-heeled ankle boots, she reached behind her back and unzipped her Bat-costume and stripped it from her shapely frame, leaving herself clad in just her tiny thong panties.
Reaching under the front of her dresser, Barbara activated the hidden button that caused the dresser and the section of the wall it was attached to, to swing inward. She hung her Batcostume and utility belt, from an empty hook on the back of the dresser mirror, then neatly stowed her boots in the narrow passageway.
Before taking a shower and retiring for the night, Barbara decided to check out her answer-phone, to see if there were any outstanding messages. She padded, bare-footed, into the living room and saw that the red light was on the device, indicating a missed call.