Message-ID: <21556asstr$943920601@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: mmminette@chickmail.com Subject: {ASSM} Story.Batgirl 4. Batgirl's Revenge Lines: 248 X-Original-Message-ID: <81uq9t$4le$1@nnrp1.deja.com> X-Article-Creation-Date: Mon Nov 29 21:13:38 1999 GMT Date: Mon, 29 Nov 1999 19:10:01 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: kelly, Vulpine, gill-bates Certainly, Weazelwoman had revenged (in her fashion) Dirk Thrustbox, yet the evil genius Dr. Strangetrousers had got away scot-free with the wickedness he so gleefully perpetrated upon my latex-clad Batbody. I had lain low, letting him think himself safe: now, revenge would be mine. Utilizing all my Batskills, I crept once again into his secret lair. This time, however, I managed to hide myself in the very room which had been the scene of my earlier torture. I had cleverly located the chamber itself by reversing the ionic polarization on the sonic screwdriver and then running the output through BatDeScrambler 4.0. Voila! I obtained coordinates and even a map with point-by-point stalking instructions. Now, I crouched in the shadows behind the large steel beams that ran across the ceiling of his torture chamber. I was, in fact, directly above the wooden post replete with cuffs and boating winches, upon which he had imprisoned me to so foully misuse the crime-fighting apparati plundered rudely from my bulging tool belt. I began implementing Phase 2 of my plan. Pressing a nickel-plated button on my tool belt, I released a powerful concentration of airborne Batpheromones, clinically enhanced to attract the evil doctor himself, using extracts of my own, combined with hormones from the spunk he'd left with me. I waited, shrouded by my short cape, as the potent mixture permeated the atmosphere of the entire complex. I knew Dr. Strangetrousers would soon come round for a sniff, so to speak. Exactly three minutes after I'd pressed the button, I heard the heavy door creak open. The doctor moved deliberately, driven by forces he could not identify. His eyes seemed smaller than usual, his pupils tight in stalking mode. When he approached the wooden post, I swooped downwards and landed directly on his shoulders. I quickly caught his hands, Batcuffed them together, and attached them to the steel hook near the top of the pole. Then I sprung off his shoulders, executing a particularly nice midair somersault, if I do say so myself, and landed on the floor, crouched at his feet. With lightening speed, I Batcuffed each foot to one of the boating winches on either side. My chief weapon was surprise. Well -- surprise, and Battraining. Actually, my _three_ chief weapons were: surprise, Battraining, and the dulling effect of the Batpheromones cocktail. Oh, and my nice latex uniform. Then I stepped back, to view my handiwork, and to let my captor see just who it was that had hit him. "Ah, the delectable Batgirl. Most impressive, my dear. I see I underestimated you," Dr. Strangetrousers said. His voice seemed slightly fuzzed at the edges, due no doubt to my cunning chemical cocktail. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?" "I have a little score to settle with you, Doctor, " I said matter-of-factly, standing in true superhero style: wide shoulders, wide stance, hands on hips, chest out. Of course, in my case, this also meant my nipples stood out even further, as they tend to do when I am in uniform and fighting evil in all its myriad forms. "A score? How fascinating, my Batchick. What did you have in mind?" he queried. "Just watch," I retorted, as plucked my trusty Batknife from my bulging tool belt. I had thought about merely pulling down the doctor's eponymous strange trousers, leaving them bunched at the ankles, with his socks and shoes still on, rendering him truly ridiculous. But as I'd tied his legs spreadeagle-style, I had to improvise. I stepped towards him and slashed at his trousers with the Batknife. I made two diagonal long cuts, from the waist to about two inches down the inseam, on both sides. The sharp knife cut through trousers and undergarments in one motion. I flipped the Batknife closed and stowed it away, then swiftly yanked the fabric from the waist, exposing his entire pelvic region, from belly button to balls. His cock stood fiercely erect. Did this man have a perpetual hard-on, I wondered (which would certainly explain his need for strange trousers), or was it the phermorones? Or did this twisted warped evil genius find my prescence stimulating in some way? "Oh, how you torture me!" he sneered derisively. Little did he realize the full extent of my plan. "Just watch," I said again, allowing a bit of a smile to escape my lips. I circled around the perimeter of the room, making him wait while I considered my options. Mmmm, that large test tube? No, glass, potential breakage. The wide metal collapsing telescope? Mmm, no -- no way of guaranteeing it wouldn't un-collapse and pinch a bit of my bits. Ah ha! I noticed a sturdy rubber cylinder, covered with nubbles. I picked it up and used my BatToxinDetector to scan it. It seemed safe enough; it had a nice heft to it, and its texture was intriguing. "Tell me, Doctor," I asked, my eyes narrowing through the slights in my latex mask, "what is this device?" "It's a -- " he began, then stopped himself. He tried again, "It's a tool for an experiment that I'm recreating, uh, along, the lines of Pavlovian response." He seemed to waver in his conviction. I lowered my face and peered at him through my mask, much as a teacher would peer at an errant pupil over the tops of her spectacles. "Oh, alright. It's just a toy. For my little Nellie," he confessed. "Go on," I commanded. "A surprise for her; she hasn't seen it yet. For Nellie, my... " he seemed embarassed as he continued, "... my cocker spaniel puppy. Even an evil doctor deserves someone special in his life, you know!! And she was so cute when I saw her at the Humane Society, I just had to adopt her." The doctor seemed a tad misty-eyed. Was this a ploy, or had he actually a bit of heart? But, revenge was my goal, and tender devotion to adorable puppy or not, I would achieve it. There was a large chair in the room, a leather armchair that looked as if it belonged in a history professor's office at some Ivy League school or even in the parlour of the fabulous Gotham Manor. I strode to it, cylindrical dog toy in hand. I set the toy on the left arm of the chair and undid my zip, which, of course, runs all the way from front to back. I pulled the latex away a bit, to better access and reveal my private parts. I snuck a finger into my cunny and then tasted my own moisture. "Mmm," I remarked. "Revenge is sweet." "What are you going to do?" the doctor demanded. "Just watch," I said once again, ennunciating each word with care. I sat down in the chair, draping a leg over each of its arms. The toy remained where I had placed it, but now was hidden by my knee. I licked my right index finger, making it very wet, and with it began to draw slow circles on my clitoris while the doctor gazed on, bound. Between the enhanced phermorones and my performance, Doctor Strangetrousers grew even more erect and even more attentive. "Mmmyes, Batchick, I wouldn't mind a slice of that." "Just watch," I told him again. My circles quickened. I began to enlarge the loops so as to periodically dip into my pussy to gather more moisture. My clit throbbed under my ministrations. My body heat rose in response. The doctor's cock was twitching, uselessly. There was no way he could either touch it or rub it up against anything. I paused long enough to retrieve the nubbly-studded cylinder. I smeared my juices all over it and began to ease it into my cunt. "You vixen! That's for Nellie!" he protested, although I did note his eyes grow larger. "You will clean it all off before you give it to her, Doctor," I assured him. I began fucking myself in earnest, still rubbing my clit. The nubblies felt divine. I could feel my muscles beginning to tighten. "Ooo, Batbitch, that's very fine, but bring that cunt over here and let me do it right and proper," suggested Dr. Strangetrousers. "Just.... watch!" I reminded him as I continued this fine bit of stimulation. My breathing was growing raggedy along its edges and I knew I was close to a quick hard climax. My fingers moved faster on my clit and my hand pumped the cylinder more rapidly. My pelvis thrust up to meet it. The doctor writhed in his bonds, humping air. His cock looked angrier than ever, red and fierce, with its drop of natural lubricant escaping its tip. I fucked myself quite heroically at this point -- faster than a speeding bullet, and all that -- and as I began to come, I gasped out repeatedly "just...watch....just.... watch..... just .... watch!" I slid poor Nellie's chewtoy out of my sopping cunt and laid it again on the arm of the chair. I leaned back and sighed contentedly, enjoying a nice postwank stretch. The open lips of my cunt seemed to capture all of the doctor's attention. "You must cut me down and let me fuck you now," he stated. Holy handcuffs, he was bound helpless in his own torture chamber and he presumed to give me orders??! "I think not, Doctor," said I, shifting slightly in the chair. "Then come here and slide onto me, BatWench! You must! Look, my poor cock's all aquiver!" He was beginning to sound desparate. "Certainly not," I replied. "Suck my cock, then?" he begged hopefully. "Don't be ridiculous," I retorted. "Touch it, with anything, please! Let me rub against you, resplendent in your latex, darkest angel!" Doctor Strangetrousers groveled. I smiled. "No," I said, simply and firmly. "Dearest Batgirl, Batwoman, Batangel, I beg you, come nearer to me. Let me smell you, let me lick your sweet Batbits!" cried the doctor. Now I must confess, I did waver a bit here. Whilst the doctor had me tied to this very same post, he certainly had not obliged me with any oral favors. In the name of all the sciences, surely, wasn't it incumbent upon me to gather quantitative data regarding cunnilingus? Plus, there is nothing on this earth I enjoy more than a good pussy-licking. I raised my chin as I asked him -- this was meant to be revenge, after all -- "Perhaps. Tell me how you might do so." "You could lower the tether if you still require me to be bound. You could squat near my mouth. I would lick you long, lick you hard, clit, lips, pussy. You would not find it so unpleasant, methinks. We may have much in common, Batchick." I wobbled, internally. But the next words out of the doctor's mouth steadied my cruel resolve. "Just let me breathe periodically, from time to time." He smiled as if in jest but seemed quite earnest. "You beg to lick me but also beg for permission to stop licking whenever it suits you?" I asked in clarification. He smiled cunningly. "Of course, dearest one, I haven't got gills, you know!" And then it struck me like a bolt of lightening. Gills! Of course -- gills! I quickly zipped my latex Batsuit, inserted the sloppy wet dog toy into the doctor's mouth, taped it in place with a bit of PVC tape from my bulging tool belt, and fled the room. And off I went, into the night, in search of Aquaman. ----- the first three parts of this saga, written by my esteemed colleague Paulinus Fang, can be found at his NEW website: http://pages.whowhere.lycos.com/arts/paulinusfang/index.html as for MY stuff, Visit the Loveshack-- http://pages.whowhere.com/arts/minette_and_celena/index.html -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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