Message-ID: <4815eli$9710121327@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "S.Sneakly" Subject: *NEW*:_Batgirl_vs._The_Crime...(5/5,FF,Bond,Adv) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <344057E3.5CC8@geocities.com> Here it is!!! The last (thank God ) chapter of Batgirl vs. The etc... It used to be said in alt.sex.stories.d that you shouldn't bitch about the writing unless you can do better. Well I think that anybody tries, quickly learns that bitching is about as cruel thing as there is. This story is around 20,000 to 25,000 words and took about ten months to write. Did I have fun? Most of the time. Was it worth it? I think it came out O.K. Will I miss it? NO. It is time to move onto the next project. When I posted chapter four, I was fortunate to get a review in "The Annex Reviews" along side one of the all-time great stories, "The Perils of Batgirl." I think it was great to be honored in such a way. Some schmuck posted a complaint about the reviewer, LadyCrrh. He didn't like that she was kink friendly and gave points for originality. I wasn't doing much on the net at the time and only heard about it weeks later in Deja-News. Here is my reply. If anyone wants to take the time to read a story and then write a couple of hundred words in review, I doubt any writer will complain. If they want to post it to Usenet, great!!! I would take a couple of hundred considerate words (good or bad) over a five word 'Fuck You.' I got more letters asking about my story in the week before(200 hits) I posted it to my website than in the week after (900 hits). People who take the time to write are sacred in my book. If you don't like the reviews of Celeste or LadyCrrh, don't read em. I avoid Michel Medvid all the time. 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/ Finally, if you are under 18, DO NOT READ ************************************************* _Batgirl_vs._the_Crime_School_for_Girls_ Part V Cooking Class of Crime by S.Sneakly (sneakly@geocities.com) Barbara looked down. Her feet were dangling above a slowly swirling vat of viscous pea-green liquid. Bubbles periodically erupted on the surface, throwing small green gobs in the air. Lady Penelope had thought of everything Barabara thought. Regardless of her fate, arrow or gas, this giant, simmering vat would eventually cook all the evidence down to nothing. The swoosh of the inverted pendulum made Barbara glance up, just in time to see the ratchet move the blade up another notch. She almost panicked when she realized how far the blade had inched up in the couple of minutes since Lady Penelope had sealed her into the subterranean dungeon. At this rate, I'll only have fifteen or twenty minutes before the blade reaches the ropes, she thought. She looked at the small round face of the cherub smiling out from the protective confines of its iron cage. The gold leaf, in the flickering light, made the little angle dark and cruel with black shadows hiding its eyes. The bubbling green gruel let off the strong odor of splitpeas and the slightly sour smell of old toothpaste. Barbara looked down in horror as her bound ankles swayed gently over the vat. She watched as an unusually large bubble broke surface near her. A long sinuous glob spun through the air and landed on the purple leather of her boot. She looked above her and saw the course old rope was already chafing on the primitive pulley that supported her. She suddenly yelped into her gag as she felt a fierce burning sensation in her foot. She kicked futily for a moment and looked at a small hole opening in her boot. Hydro-flouridic Acid! Boiling to death wasn't enough for Penelope Peasoup. She wanted Barbara to do it in vat of acidic soup! Barbara looked briefly at the demonic little cherub. Maybe she was right, she ought to pray for the arrow to do her in. ‘NOT THIS TIME!!!' Barbara said to herself, shaking defeat from her shoulders. Regaining her composure, she surveyed the situation. ‘If I could only..' her train of thought was interrupted. the diabolical ‘Big Ben' that Lady Penelope had secreted in the crotch of Barbara's Batgirl costume came to life. She could feel the crest rising along its back as it pressed itself deep into the folds of her labia. Before Barbara had time to realize what was happening, it commenced its ultra-high frequency stimulation of her sex. She struggled vainly in her bondage as it began tormenting her. Her pussy ached as it disappeared in mass of sensation. She bucked and convulsed involuntarily as a bizarre almost perpetual orgasm consumed her. The world around her was lost as the white hot sensation spread out from loins and burned her flesh. She could hear the swoosh of the pendulum's blade as it sliced back and forth through the air and the tortured groan of the ropes as they suffered the spasmodic kicks and shudders of Batgirl's body in the grip of Penelope Peasoup's diabolical trap. Soon, even those ominous sounds were obliterated by sensory overload. *** "So, my pretty, you've had a change of heart about your enrollment at Lady Penelope Peasoup's Crime school for Girls." With one arm propping her up and the other tracing the rounds curves of April's body, Lady Peasoup was enjoying herself immensely. The day was turning out to be a red letter (A+). She had been somewhat regretting her decision to let Batgirl meet her doom alone in the caverns. But the fear she'd seen in Batgirl as the last stone was wedged into place told her it was a good choice. And now she had an additional consolation prize. She looked at April. The chesty blond was stretched out in front of her. The leather shackles kept her young athletic build stretched to it's limits. She was naked except for the lacy white panties that covered her sex. Lady Penelope let the sharp tip of her finger nail trace its way down the length of the bound girls abdomen. "In case your wondering, tuition is non-refundable!" She smirked with satisfaction as hand slid under the shear fabric of the panties. The girl groaned through the thick leather gag as she felt herself being violated. Lady Penelope had been seeking fault with her young pupil at every turn. And she hadn't had a difficult time of it either (The poor girl just wasn't very bright). With every screw-up came a new opportunity to strip her, abuse her, and have a wonderful time of it. Now the time had come to enjoy the experience of expelling the school's first student. Long ago Penelope had realized that a fine school's reputation was not built solely on the success of its graduates, but also on the perception that it was exclusive. If every one with money could graduate, then what was the value of a diploma? She had decided that as a matter of course, one student(at least) per semester would fail. This was good business, as well as satiating her own twisted desires. The circle of cold steel upon which she had bound the her student and the damp fog laden air made the girl goose bump despite her fear. Having spent many years lurking in the dark underbelly of Londinium's foggy streets, Lady Peasoup was immune to the chill of the night air. She was wearing only a tightly laced black ‘merry widow' style teddy, gartered stockings with nastily sharp stiletto pumps and black fingerless gloves that extended past her elbows. "Welcome to Lady Penelope's course in Home Economics." She looked intently at the girl. Her penetrating fingers eliciting a spreading dampness, both in her and her victim. "The first rule of economics, like politics, is that all economics start at home. And it is bad economics if I allow a student of questionable reliability to leave here. You would probably run off and tell the first copper you meet all about my little finishing school." "So that's why we've come to this." She smiled. "We don't call them finishing schools for nothing!!!" She withdrew her fingers and licked the come from each as if the scones had proved to crumbly for her tea. Satisfied with her short rationalization, she reached over to her a small remote that lay on the steel floor next to the tautly drawn girl. She fingered its sleek black shape, appreciating the stylistic phallicness of it. Power, with it she could control this girls fate, ripping her limb from limb, inflicting unspeakable torture, or changing the channel on the tele. As long as it was hers, she was in control. She pointed it up towards the small receiver sitting on a wrought iron garden table at the edge of the room. The small electro-servos whirred under the polished steel. April's arms and legs slowly spread out so that she was laid out as if the ‘x' at the center of a huge target. "When I was planning what I should do in the event of Batgirl interfering in my plans, as I hoped she would, this was one of my first choices. If you hadn't become the object of my disaffection, it might have been her counting the minutes to sunrise instead of you." brushing a stray hair from April's face she continued. "Tragically, your dieing a hideous but anonymous death in the wine cellar lacked any real drama. So Batgirl gets the honor of demonstrating one of the finest principles in modern criminology, while you get to provide me with a night of prime entertainment." Her hand slid back down the firm white flesh of April's breasts. Penelope closed thumb and forefinger around the brown tip of the girl's erect nipple and slowly closed her grip. April's breathe became shallow and rapid as Penelope's knuckles whitened. Penelope straddled the girl. She felt her thighs gently rubbing on the goose-pimply flesh of April's torso. Penelope grasped the girl's other nipple in her vise like grip. Tugging them gently to and fro, Penelope savored the sensation of the girl squirming to escape beneath her legs. Looking at the clock she thought, seventy-two minutes. "The thing I like about nipple clamps isn't the pain you inflict on the wearer while they're on..." She smiled wryly, her fingers were starting to cramp from her tug of war with April's well rounded breasts. She'd admired them a lot over the last couple of months, and was in ecstasy at having her way with them. "It's that inevitably, you have to take them off." She let go of both nipples simultaneously. She watched April's face with amusement as blood rushed back into the deprived nipples. The girls eyes closed, and her brow furrowed as she groaned into her leather gag. "Exquisite sensation, isn't it?" She picked up her riding crop and flexed it gently in her grip. "It also makes them wonderfully sensitive." She leaned over and traced her tongue over the very tip of a still smarting nipple. April tried uselessly to recoil. Penelope closed her lips around it. She gently sucked at it, pulling it deeper into her mouth. Her tongue rasping at the sensitive flesh. April could feel the elaborate lace undergarment stroking her body as Penelope's hips thrust rhythmically. The growing intensity of Penelope's arousal gave her motion a force of violence that pulled and tormented the younger woman. Penelope engulfed one of the girl's breasts with her mouth as she alternately bit and sucked at it. The other breast was tugged and kneaded ferociously. With her free hand Penelope traced the inner thighs of her spread eagle victim, occasionally letting fall a cruel slap at the defenseless inner reaches. Penelope road the girl like that until she brought herself to a vicious climax. *** Barbara looked down at swirling vat of acid. The fraying rope had lowered her about six inches towards the scalding hot liquid. Her ‘Big Ben' induced orgasms had felt like painful licks of death as her body convulsed and spasmed involuntarily. She passed out completely during the first two, only recovering shortly before the next assaults. Since then they had become less orgasmic and more just an act of straight torture. Each time the little device raised its hackle, Barbara's body cringe in anticipation of the coming torment. She looked at the fraying rope above her. Time was running out. She tried to get her feet up and away from the scalding acid, but the lace work of golden sash cord that she was bound from head to toe in prevented her from doing more than wiggling uselessly. It was still tight enough to make the heavy breathing of her exertions labored. She felt a burning sensation on the back of her calf. It was another splatter of acid bubbling off the pool below. The small gobs were not enough to seriously burn her after they dissolved the fabric of her costume. But they were a constant reminder of the fate that was churning a few feet below. Barbara tried again to lift her feet. Much to her surprise she felt the sash cord pop free and hang loose around her body. The acid must have burned through the ropes, she thought, much relieved by the small victory. Barbara glanced at the swaying pendulum blade. She only had a few minutes before it would make contact with the two ropes that would decide her fate. She closed her eyes and mustered what resources she had left. She slowed her frantic pulse and cleared her mind of the terrible visions that had been pre-occupying her for the last several hours. Her fate was hers to control. Her will was the only thing that she needed to rely on. Her breathing fell into its natural rhythm as she freed her mind of pain and failings. She raised her knees slowly. If she had wondered how she could have done it, she would have failed. She didn't. Her legs pulled slowly to her chest. Next, her arms, which had been aching terribly for hours, started to lift body upward as she rotated her torso into a nearly inverted position. Finally, with her eyes closed, she lifted her legs above her head so that she could wrap her feet around the end of the boom from which she had been suspended. She'd hated learning to do the inverted lift in college, but it was proving its worth. Once her long legs had a firm grip on the boom crane, Barbara quickly attacked the ropes binding her wrists. Without any tension to keep the bondage tight, the ropes were easily undone. She was just letting the last piece of rope drop into the cauldron below when she felt the repulsive sensation of ‘Big Ben' coming to life. As it pressed itself deeper into her sore sex, Barbara grabbed at the crane with one hand to secure her hold and at the buttons of her pants with her other. She tore at her costume, desperately trying to avoid the searing pain that would force her into the bubbling cauldron below. Just as the device was pulling away from her clit, it started its high frequency buzzing. Barbara dropped it and saw it plop into the acidic soup below. Relieved, she started shimmying down the crane. ‘Not one of Genital Electric's better R&D efforts,' Barbara mused as she noticed a blue scum forming where the vibrator landed. Sliding carefully off the wooden boom, Barbara had escaped the most hideous part of Penelope Peasoup's plot. But she was still sealed in the chamber. The Pendulum was still sawing away at the ropes and regardless of which rope was cut the poisonous gas would soon fill the air. She ran over to the inverted pendulum. She grabbed at the swooshing arm. Using all her energy she was barely able to slow its clock like mechanism. ‘I don't have time to stop it,' she realized. Searching the chamber, Barbara found several old steel rods used for reinforcing concrete. They were heavily encrusted with years of rust. She pulled up two of the longer pieces and headed towards the iron cage. She quickly slid the rods through grates and under the large amorphous rock that dangled over the glass orb. The pale green gas that filled the orb was so dense that Barabara couldn't see the other side of its eighteen inch diameter. After gently prodding and cajoling the hanging rock, she succeeded in seating it between the two iron rods. She glanced at back at the caged cherub, to see if he was going to object to her action and then to the swinging blade of the pendulum. She realized instantly that her time was almost up. The blade was slashing away at the still taunt rope controlling the cherub's lethal bow. The rope that held the rock was now lazily rolling over the sharp edge as it glided past. The other rope, however was cut almost halfway through. She watched in fear as a single pass of the blade cut almost half of the remaining fibers. Using all of her remaining speed and energy, Barbara grabbed at a piece of loose flagstone at her feet. With one surprisingly sharp tug, the stone pulled free. She dropped to her knee and held the thin flat stone at a sharp thirty degrees from the arrows path. On the next pass of the blade, the last strands split with a loud "TWANG!!!" The little statue let fly its small arrow. Barbara was surprised at the ferocity of impact as the projectile crashed into the rock. It knocked her back so that she landed flat on her back with the two pieces of slate lying on either side. The arrow had burrowed its way into the mortar of the wall several feet above the gas flask. She shook the ringing sensation from her fingers as she sat up. The imminent threat of death was past, but Barbara was still buried a hundred feet below ground with a poisonous vat of noxious acid. Her body ached from her hours of bondage, suspension, electric shocks and sexual torment. She looked at the small walled up entrance of the chamber. She new she had no choice but dig herself out. After a few minutes of self indulgent rest, she pulled herself to her feet and started searching the scraps of metal rods. She found one that seemed the right size for needs and started chipping at the quick hardening mortar that blocked the exit. *** "Uhmmm..." Penelope stretched her self on the wicker sofa that sat amidst the withered remains of palm trees, ferns, rose bushes and assorted exotic plants that had filled the Pinkston Green Room. It was built on the center of the roof of Pinkston Palisades and had been the pride and joy of the Pinkston Family for generations. "I always love the that tired, satisfied feeling at the end of a night of wicked debauchery." She twirled a pair of sunglasses lazily as she pressed her long finger on the left arrow of her remote. A thin mechanical whir whispered in response as she watched April's mussed blond hair rotate into view. She was still spread eagle on the steel plate. Lady Penelope admired the curvy form of the young woman as the turn table rotated. As the girls face came into clear view, Penelope admired the pretty blue eyes soft cheek bones peeking above the broad leather gag. The girl was spent. Any fight she had was lost long ago, while Penelope toyed with her nubile body. "Where are your to knit-wit classmates?" Penelope looked at her watch, lying on the table. "If they don't hurry up there going to miss a beautiful sunrise!" She looked at the struggling April. She was pleasantly surprised that not quite all the fight had left her. So much the better. "I guess we shall start with out them then. Not that I could delay it any way." She smiled and stood. "As you may recall, most of the windows in this greenhouse were broken when our illustrious school was established. Well I have seen that they have all been replaced." She gave one of her theatrical waves at the surroundings. She pushed the ‘Slow Retract' button on the remote and then tossed it back to the couch. She had no further need of it. The servo-electric winches that controlled the tension on the girl's limbs started to hum as they pulled slowly tighter "However, for your benefit, or rather, Batgirl's, I have replaced them with series of convex lenses. Each glass will now focus the light of the early morning sun on your pert and nubile form. When the morning fog burns off, so will you!!" She laughed heartily at her own wittism. Before putting her sunglasses on, she took one more stroll around the spread blond. Her muscles were beautifully defined and the sound of the small motors pulling at them made Penelope shiver with excitement. The show would be over momentarily and she could already feel the room heating. She retreated to the safety of the couch and placed a shaking hand to her damp pussy. Fuck May and June, she thought. I'll enjoy this show more alone. Her hand was furiously stroking her clit as she watched the girl struggle in the orange light. "Tragically," Penelope moaned, wrapped in the thrall of climax, "the only person who even knows of your peril is nothing more than a purple oil slick and a few pearly whites at the bottom of a vat of my hydro-flouridic acid laced pea soup." "Not quite, Lady Penelope." Barbara planted her feet firmly apart in the greenhouse door. Lady Penelope spun around. "How could you escape my schroedinger chamber of torture???" She leaped from the divan, instantly converting her pent up sexual energy into a wrath of anger, partially for being interrupted and partially failing to get rid of the pretty young crime fighter for good. "I think one of the possibilities that you forgot to take into account was that I could escape. Since, as you pointed out, all things could have happened, I was bound to escape. Once the bat was out of the box, all other scenarios became moot." Barbara was tired and felt like crap. She didn't really want to argue philosophy. But, she wasn't going to let Penelope Peasoup seize the initiative. "May!! June!! Get in hear now!! I've got some homework for you!!" Penelope was already gliding across the floor towards Barbara, flexing her riding crop as she moved. "Sorry Penelope, I already took care of that assignment. They're spending the rest of the semester in detention." Barbara started to circle away from the scourge of the Londinium underworld. She was surprised how light and fluid her movements were, considering that the villainess was pulling robberies, torturing victims and setting up elaborate devises continually for almost a day and a half. "I guess I'll just have score your test myself then." She yanked off the end of her riding crop and revealed a thin steel blade, eighteen inches long. The morning sun reflected off it, momentarily blinding Barbara. Seeing her chance, Lady Penelope lunged forward. Barbara, sensing the attack, slipped to the side and delivered a vicious blow to Lady Penelope's ribs as she flew by. The punch hit in the arm pit just above the lacy edge of Penelope's black ‘Merry Widow' undergarment. Feeling the hard contact with the open patch of skin and the gratifying "Ooommph" of lost wind, Barbara spun around to see where her quarry had landed. Instead, she saw the bright light of day incinerating the dry foliage across the room. Just a few feet from the frantically struggling form of April. "That's right Batgirl, you're just in time to witness little blondy's bondage barbeque!!" The flames were crawling down the dead plants at an alarming rate as the morning sun crept over window sill. Barbara didn't even see Penelope get up. She was to busy trying to grab the small sword that lay on the steel turntable next to the struggling girl. She grabbed the handle and immediately hacked away at the ropes hold the girl's wrist. As each rope snapped, it let out an audible ‘twang'. April needed no encouragement to crawl to safety. "Batgirl! She's getting away!" April was near hysteria as she pulled the remnants of rope and manacles from her wrists. Barbara was briefly tempted to engage in pursuit, but she couldn't take the chance of leaving a victim alone in a booby trap filled lair. "She won't get very far," Barbara explained as she led the girl down stairs to find some clothes. "You remember that poisonous sprinkler you warned me about? Well, take a look." She motioned to the arched window that filled the stairwell with the warm Gotham sun. They were just in time to see Penelope, still in her black undies and heels collapsing in the center of the great lawn. "With your classmates assistance, I was able to override the controls. I doubt she used anything deadly. Her kink was toying with her victims. She'll wake up on jet back to Slutmore Prison." Barbara would like to be the one to see her off. But she knew that Batman would have his usual press entourage there and the whole scene would end up with him asking about royalty checks and trying to cop a feel. Besides, as usual, he'll take credit for catching her anyway. Barbara would like to stick around for the police. Unfortunately, that would mean turning April over to the authorities. Not that she hadn't earned it, but she seemed more of a dupe than a real criminal. The other two would have to face the music, but April was going to get lift to the bus station and a one-way fare home. April gripped tightly at Barbara's waist as they wheeled the Batgirl-cycle through the early morning traffic of Gotham City. Barbara could hear the breath of her passenger as they waited for lights and she could feel the warmth of her body as April snugged up to her on the back of the bike. Her round breasts pressing against the thin fabric of her costume. When they pulled up in front of the station, April slid off the back of the bike and faced her redheaded savior one last time. "Thanks for not turning me in Batgirl. I'll always owe you for that and saving my life." Before Barbara realized what was happening, she felt the soft moist lips of the young girl pressing against her own. The two lingered there for a moment and then Barbara watched as April ran into the terminal, hands clutched to her face. Barbara let out the clutch of the Harley and headed for home. Maybe I'll have Barbara Gorden give her a follow up call one day, she mused. The END -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /