Batgirl: Sadist or Masochist Ch. 10

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 10: Lights, Camera, Action!

November 19th, Somewhere Beneath Lew Hafnor's Mansion, 7: 25 pm

"This is your dominatrix outfit," Janet informed Jennifer, shortly after Lew Hafnor had departed, holding up a costume hanger. A black Latex bodysuit incorporating built in high-heels, was draped over it.

Jenny stared at the costume, complete with its bewildering array of straps and clasps. "Part of the costume appears to be missing," she commented, dryly. "Actually, a whole lot of it seems to be missing," she added, under her breath, wondering what she had let herself get into.

"Oh yeah, sorry, I almost forgot." The dresser quickly produced a skimpy pair of black thong panties, which she dangled from her index finger, as she passed them over to the blonde. "Better slip into these first," she suggested, with an amused grin.

Jenny, who had already stripped down to her lacy white bra and panties, sighed, before finishing undressing. She felt no embarrassment at disrobing in front of another woman, since she had quickly got used to it, when she'd first became a striptease artist. She stepped into the thong panties and tugged them up, until they fitted, snuggly, over her nicely padded mons and the pencil thin sides clung high on her nicely flared hips.

"Well, here goes!" she exclaimed, sitting on a stool and slipping first one bare foot, then the other into the legs of the costume, before standing and tugging it up over her ass and up about her trim waist. She then slipped both arms into the long sleeves, which ended in fingerless gloves and pulled the garment up over her back and shoulders, before fastening the clasp positioned at the base of her throat. Whilst her rear was now completely encased in the Latex costume, the whole of the front of her torso was still exposed. A number of dangling, elasticized straps were provided to pull the two halves of the one-piece garment up against her sides, without covering her breasts, belly or pubic region.

Starting at the top, she clipped the two uppermost straps together, just above her breasts, followed by the next two straps, which fitted, snugly, just below her shapely boobs. A third set of straps were then clipped into place about her waist. Jenny sat down again and started connecting the numerous other straps across the exposed areas of her inner thighs and calves, starting at her crotch and working her way down to her trim ankles.

Finally, she finished, stood up again, and walked over to the full length mirror, to check out how she looked. With a bit of gentle tugging, here and there, she was finally satisfied with the snug, clinging fit of the costume and stood looking at her erotic image, with both hands resting on her hips, grateful for the thong which spared her blushes. Her breasts, chest, smooth flat belly and the insides of her legs, were fully revealed, apart from the small amount of flesh hidden beneath the narrow, tightly stretched cross-straps.

"Wow, I look like every guy's wet dream!" she exclaimed, half turning to check out her pert rear.

"Hmm? Not a bad fit, even if I do say so," Janet grudgingly acknowledged. "Shame about your small tits though. Still, makeup should be able to make your cleavage look a bit more impressive."

"I do NOT have small tits," Jenny retorted, a little self-consciously, blushing, prettily.

"You do compared to most of the girls who come through here," Janet replied, with a saucy grin. She handed Jennifer a black leather whip. "There, that completes your ensemble. Now, I'd better get you down to Makeup, pronto. You're running a little behind schedule, my girl."

-oOo-

Barbara had just about recovered from the initial dizzying effects of the injection, when she realized, with a thrill of horror, that her skin felt tingly all over, as if a small electric current was passing through her epidermis. She was acutely aware of even the slightest movement of her body, rubbing against the sheer material of her kinky Batcostume. She was also aware of the minutest changes in the flow of air current, within the large underground chamber. Her nipples were standing out, hard and almost painfully erect, threatening to burst through their clinging diaphanous covering. It dawned on her that the injection she'd just been given, had not been to relax her muscles, as claimed by the nurse, but to highly sensitize her already sensitive skin.

As her vision swam back into focus, Barbara saw the diminutive figure of Lew Hafnor, cackling and cavorting in front of her, like some sort of demented court jester from the middle ages. He was clad in a black one-piece body stocking, with the large letters 'BK' across his chest, in a brilliant blood-red color.

"Magnificent!" he chortled, once he had got his breath back. "If I didn't know better, I would've sworn you were the real thing, Ms. Gordon." He calmed down a little. "Now, as you are already aware, you will be playing the part of Batgirl, the Dynamic Daredoll, in this movie, whilst I..." he paused to puff out his chest, "I will be playing the part of your arch nemesis, the Bitch Killer!"

"Mmmmph! Nnnnngghh!" Barbara retorted into her gag, vigorously shaking her cowled head from side to side, trying to inform him that she'd had changed her mind.

Hafnor ignored this show of petulance from his star, putting it down to the fact that leading ladies were frequently notoriously difficult to work with. "The long-haired guy over there in the jeans and T-shirt, is Al Peterson, the co-director of this movie. Oh, silly me, I think you've already met, haven't you?"

"Mmmpphh! Nnnnngghh!" The purple clad heroine furiously squirmed her sexy body.

Hafnor glanced over at his director and nodded his head, to indicate that he was ready to start filming.

"ACTION!" Peterson called out to the surrounding film crew, and the video cameras started rolling.

Hafnor stared up at the sexy bound figure and rubbed his hands together, whilst uttering a villainous chortle. "Mmwhahahaha! At last, I have you in my power, Batslut!" he cried, triumphantly. This was followed by a long, insane sounding cackle. "No longer will you be able to foil my master plan for control of Gotham City followed by eventual World domination."

Barbara shuddered with apprehension. "I wonder how much of this is just ham acting and how much of it is for real?" she asked herself, deciding that the multi-millionaire was almost certainly certifiable, either way.

"But before I kill you, I have decided to have a little fun with you Allow me to introduce my sexy assistant, the 'Evil Dominatrix'. Bwahahahahahahaha!" The Bitch Killer's insane laughter echoed around the underground chamber.

"CUT! That was fine, boss," the director called over. "The blonde should be arriving on set at any moment."

-oOo-

As Jennifer was escorted onto the movie set, she reflected on the fact that the makeup girl had insisted on spending more time on her tits than on her face. Still, her cleavage did look more spectacular. Perhaps it was these musings, which were the chief reason why she initially gave the actress playing the bondage victim, who was stretched out in a standing spreadeagle position, only a cursory glance from a distance.

Barbara saw a pretty young blonde girl wearing and open-fronted Latex bodystocking, appear and walk over to the long-haired director, closely accompanied by an armed security guard. "This must be the actress playing the dominatrix role," she decided.

Al Peterson introduced himself to the newcomer, then guided her to her position, facing the bound heroine. "Now, when the cameras start to roll, you crack your whip in the air, menacingly. Do you think you can do that for me, darling?"

Jenny swallowed, a little nervously, and nodded. "I-I think so."

Peterson moved out of camera shot. "ACTION!" he called out. Once more the video cameras operated by his film technicians, started to roll.

Jenny looked over toward the actress she would be sharing the scene with, and her mouth fell open. "Barbara?" she whispered, incredulously, as she finally recognized her friend. Although Barbara was dressed in some sort of ultra-sexy version of her Batcostume and had a red rubber ballgag jammed in her mouth, she was instantly recognizable to her blonde young friend and sometimes lover.

The bound and gagged redhead's eyes widened, in belated recognition, as their eyes met. "Jen? What on earth are you doing here?" Barbara asked herself.

Jennifer tried to remain calm, as she wondered what was going on, and feebly cracked the whiplash in the air.

"CUT!"

Al Peterson hurried over to the blonde girl, with a scowl on his face. "NO, NO, NO, NO!" he yelled. "You must give the whiplash a vicious crack, with an evil sneer on your lips, not stand there gawping, with your mouth open, like some star-struck teenager." He threw both his hands in the air and rolled his eyes. "Geez, the people I have to work with!"

"S-Sorry! Can we try it again?"

"Okay." Peterson stepped away again. "ACTION!"

After another half a dozen abortive attempts, they finally got an acceptable take in the can.

"Now you start whipping the Batgirl," Peterson instructed. "Don't worry, that whip is made from a Batgirl friendly fiber, that cannot hurt her in the slightest. She may scream into her gag and squirm in apparent pain, but she is only acting her part, remember."

He returned to his former position and sat down in his Director's chair, still shaking his head. "ACTION!"

November 19th, The Batcave, 8: 19 pm

Batman, aka multi-millionaire Bruce Wayne, sat staring at the flat-screen display of the Batcomputer. He was a frustrated man. He'd entered just about every search parameter and piece of evidence that he could think of, in the hope of getting some sort of a clue as to the whereabouts of the Commissioner's missing daughter, so far without any success.

"Damned computer!" he exclaimed, banging a gauntleted fist on the surface of the computer desk, and causing the Boy Wonder to start and look up from the glossy magazine he'd been pouring over, for the best part of an hour.

"What is it, Batman?" his youthful crime-fighting partner asked, sitting up and uncrossing his legs. It was unusual for the Caped Crusader to show such an open display of emotion.

"Sorry, Robin, that was merely a childish display of frustration on my part." Batman replied, instantly regretting his foolishness. "A computer can only come up with the right answers, if you've first fed in the relevant information and, as far as Barbara's disappearance is concerned, we have very few facts to go on."

He decided to change the subject. "Isn't this your usual night for dating the lovely Ms. Goodbody?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

The Boy Wonder looked glum. "Yeah, but she sent me a text earlier this evening, explaining that she's been offered some sort of movie part by Lew Hafnor, the publishing magnate. It involves her working over at his place tonight."

Batman frowned. "Rather short notice, wasn't it?"

"That's what I thought. Still, this could be her one shot at fame and fortune," Robin added, with a boyish grin on his face. "I could end up dating a celebrity."

"Fame and fortune, isn't always what it's cracked up to be, Boy Wonder. Anyway, what's that magazine you've had your head buried in all evening?"

The Boy Wonder's face reddened. "It's an old copy of 'Bitch Magazine' that I picked up when we were over at Barbara's place, although what Barbara was doing with it, I'll never understand? It's full of pictures of naked or semi-naked young women."

"Perhaps she bought it to read the various articles in it?" the Caped Crusader suggested, rather naively. "Isn't that one of Lew Hafnor's publications?" he added, as an after thought.

"Yeah, it was the one that started his publishing empire," Robin agreed.

"May I see it?"

"It's, ah, it's not really your sort of read," the Boy Wonder replied, blushing slightly, but handed the magazine over to Batman, nonetheless.

The Dark Knight stared at the shapely, near naked girl on the glossy front cover, with undisguised interest.

"Holy Lepidoptera!" the Caped Crusader exclaimed, suddenly sitting bolt upright in his computer chair.

"What is it, Batman?"

"LOOK!" He stabbed a gloved finger at the magazine cover. "Immediately after the title 'BITCH', there's a butterfly logo, a 'Painted Lady' if I'm not mistaken."

"What about it?" the Boy Wonder queried, looking bemused.

"That is the same butterfly that is tattooed on the left buttock of all three dead girls."

"Holy Coincidence!"

"No coincidence, Boy Wonder. You say you found this magazine in Barbara's apartment?"

"Yeah, but..."

"You also informed me that Jenny had gone over to Hafnor's place this evening? Let's hope that neither of the girls has gotten into any sort of trouble, Robin, but we'd better check it out. To the Batmobile, old friend!"

The Caped Crusaders leapt to their feet and headed for their sleek, high powered vehicle.

November 19th, The Dungeon Beneath Lew Hafnor's Mansion, 8: 24 pm

Crack!

The first stroke of the whip, caught Barbara across her smooth, flat, lightly muscled midriff. Normally, the blow would've been insufficient to cause her to even flinch, thanks to the soft open-celled texture of the specially created lash, but due to the highly sensitized nature of her skin, it felt like she had just been struck by a white hot length of steel hawser. Barbara's body spasmed in agony, and she screamed into her ballgag. The gossamer thin material of her Batcostume, shredded and parted, under the slight impact, exposing her trim tummy to the lenses of the whirring cameras.

"Nnnngh! Unngghh!" she screeched, shaking her head, tears running down her cheeks from beneath her Batmask.

Jennifer was suitably impressed with Barbara's acting ability. She had examined the whip and knew the blow couldn't possibly have hurt her friend. The costume had shredded nicely though, and the mischievous blue-eyed blonde was beginning to enjoy her dominatrix role. She drew her whip arm back and lashed out again, this time selecting a different target area on Barbara's delectable torso.

Thwack!

This time, the lash struck the bound and helpless redhead across her tits, slicing through the sheer material of her costume and causing her to cry out into her gag and arch her back, thrusting out her chest, her nipples hard and erect. The blow had torn away a section of the flimsy costume, completely revealing her left breast, which heaved up and down, as the Batgirl sobbed into her ballgag.

"She really is very good," Jenny decided, as she drew her arm back and lashed out a third time, this time aiming somewhat lower on her friend's shapely torso.

The blow struck home against Batgirl's thong covered crotch, tearing away the flimsy outer covering and causing the girl to scream into her gag, this time so loudly, that the sound carried throughout the underground set, despite the gag's muffling effect. The redhead's body jerked and shuddered, under the blow, and she yanked at her shackles, trying to get free, all the while shaking her cowled head from side to side.

The film crew were loving every minute and Jennifer grinned at them, as she drew her arm back and lashed out again. None of the blows had produced the slightest mark on Barbara's creamy flesh, so she knew that they weren't really hurting her friend.

Crack!

Barbara jerked and shuddered, thrusting out her shapely breasts and pulling on her restraints. Tears streamed from her big green eyes and dripped onto her juddering jugs. This was acting of the first degree, or so Jenny had assumed.

After ten lashes, the director called "CUT!" and the crew all burst into a spontaneous round of applause. The blonde dominatrix had managed to completely strip the flimsy Batcostume from the bound redhead, leaving her clad in just her six-inch heels, brief thong and Batcowl. Jenny couldn't help but turn and bow to her new fans, delighted by their response and totally forgetting about her own state of semi-nudity.

As she glanced back toward her victim, Jenny noticed that the redhead was still squirming her gorgeous body, as if in considerable pain and that tears were streaming down her cheeks and dripping onto her chest. The blonde felt a sudden surge of concern. "She is alright, isn't she?" she wondered, anxiously, suddenly filled with doubts.

Lew Hafnor appeared at Jenny's side and grabbed her arm, just as she was about to hurry over to the manacled beauty, to check on her condition. "That really was an excellent performance, young woman," he declared. "You didn't let the fact that you and Ms. Gordon were acquainted, faze you in the slightest."

"Ms. Gordon?" Jenny responded, slightly taken aback, but trying to appear a little bemused. "I-I don't know any Ms. Gordon."

"Nice try, Jennifer," Lew replied, with a dry, rasping chuckle. "But, since you both work for the Gotham City Central Library, and you are Barbara Gordon's Research Assistant, it would be most unusual if you didn't, don't you think? Your mistake was giving me your business card, when I asked you for your phone number at my party. You must have realized by now, that Ms. Gordon was not exactly a voluntary participant in that torture scene we have just filmed."

"I-I don't understand?" Jenny replied, shaking her head in confusion.

It does mean that we can't let either of you go now," Lew added, nodding to someone who had just stepped up behind her.

Before Jenny could react, her arms were pinned to her sides and a chloroform soaked cloth was slapped over her lower face and held firmly in place, until she had breathed in sufficient of the narcotic fumes to stop struggling and pass out.

"We can use them both in a number of other peril scenes that I have planned for this movie," Lew informed Al Peterson, as he walked over to his co-director.

"Take them both back to the Gordon woman's room and tie them up," he ordered the thug supporting Jenny's limp body.

"Yes, boss!"

Barbara, who had been forced to watch her blonde friend's fate, while squirming, helplessly, in her bondage, groaned into her saliva soaked gag and shook her head in frustration. Things were not looking good for either her or Jennifer.

November 19th, En-route to Lew Hafnor's Mansion, 8:40 pm

As the Batmobile headed for the Hafnor Mansion, Robin put through a call to GCPD Headquarters on his cell phone. He asked to speak to Commissioner Gordon, but Gotham's senor police officer was unavailable. Instead, he was transferred to the extension of Chief O'Hara.

"Chief, this is Robin, the Boy Wonder. Can you get some men over to the Lew Hafnor mansion, on the outskirts of Gotham County, as soon as possible. We have reason to believe he may be involved in these BDSM murders and is holding the Commissioner's daughter hostage there, possibly along with her young friend, Jennifer Goodbody. Batman and I are going in, but we may need some backup."

"Bejazus, Boy Wonder!" exclaimed the Irish cop. "I'll get some of my officers over there as quickly as humanly possible."

"Thanks, Chief! I just hope nothing has happened to the girls, in the meantime."

"Aye, they're a bonnie pair of lasses," the Irishman agreed. "My boyos should be there within the hour, Caped Crusaders."