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I spent a lot of time researching Batgirl’s activities. To her credit, she is brilliant at covering her tracks. I think I grew to understand her mind as I tracked her down. She is intelligent, but perhaps a little naïve. Clearly a little nuts to be part of this world of steel muscles, flying metahumans and crimefighting mutants. I took great pleasure in finding out all I could and I considered it a tribute to my own deductive genius that I was able to find her at all.

I couldn’t follow her through the city without using surveillance equipment. The idea of a “tracer” was not acceptable because anyone I borrowed the tracer from would be able to track her, too, and the last thing I wanted was to see someone else take advantage of my work and find her. Dr. B would want her terminated immediately on my report that she was non willing to “retire” and, more than likely, I was the poor shmoe to take her out. Not that I was the best assassin, but I was already on the payroll for it.

I could track Batgirl using previous cases, gossip, news clippings and other media. I managed to put together a pattern from about a month of watching her. It was only due to luck that I was able to find the center of her patrol web.

One night, I decided to take a kids puppy and put it in a tree. Don’t ask me why. I knew, within a block or two, where Batgirl disappeared every night, so I figured she knew the people in her neighborhood. As a coincidence, I later discovered that these two blocks were TOTALLY crime free over a 48 month period. Next time, check police records first, I noted.

I put a puppy in a tree at about 11pm, around when Batgirl first appeared on any survey. The little girl to whom the puppy belonged gave a great fit of discomfort about this. She did better for my cause than I could have imagined. I waited on a nearby rooftop and, within a minute, I saw a familiar black shape drop from the skies, scoop up the pup and deliver it to the ground. Without a word, she leaped up. I was ready. On the roof, I crossed to a small collection station where I was able to track an infrared pattern back from where Batgirl dropped down to save the puppy to a closed window a block away on a second floor apartment.

I can’t tell you how I felt when I realized I had her. I could see into her apartment. I was sure that she had security devices on her windows and doors, but a quick electronic survey determined that she had a deadbolt on the front door - that was it. Quite brave considering the neighborhood. I snuck into the apartment and got to know Batgirl…Barbara…for who she is.

I set up a web camera near her computer. I watched her sleep. She has gorgeous eyes and I understand why she wore a covered facemask. Anyone who saw those eyes would recognize them on the street. I was able to put microphones into her apartment. I was able to learn that she has kids…oh man are you hurting now, huh? I had her. I spent a week watching her. I got my first “live” look at her coming into the apartment through her bedroom window, peeling off the black lycra costume and throwing it into a hamper. While a costume like that doesn’t hide much from the imagination, it does a body good to see her light, clear flesh in the open air. For lack of restraint, her tits didn’t sag an inch. They were hard, firm and wondrous to behold. Her pussy was shaved, just as I remembered it. There were small, blue/black bruises about her body, presumably from her night’s patrol. Her legs were long and wonderfully shaped. Her face, most of all, struck me. She had the most beautiful eyes. I understood immediately why she wore the visor. Anyone who saw those eyes on the street would remember them forever. She had a look of innocence that I wouldn’t expect from someone so powerful. Her hair, short and ash blond, was wet from the night’s exertion. She looked around the apartment before going to the shower.

I found myself mesmerized by her. I watched her shower, running her hands over her tight little body like a kid peering into the girls’ locker room. She slid into a red nightgown and into silk sheets before 3 in the morning. I watched her sleep using Infrared for another hour before I slept.

The next night she received an anonymous message over the Internet as she checked her email.

“Good evening Barbara…or should I say Batgirl?”

“Who is this?”

“Your benefactor. The man who is keeping you from another serious injury on the job.”

As I watched the hidden camera, she stared at the monitor of her computer. I couldn’t tell the expression, but she waited a full minute before responding.

“Who are you?”

“Your master.”

“WHAT?!”

I waited a moment before responding. Batgirl fidgeted in her chair as I typed out the response. “I am Vlad Anaxandros. Know that I control you. I know you and I will have you to myself. Before you trace this message…” I said as she produced a laptop terminal and locked it into her desktop computer. “…I want you to know that is a lovely red teddy you’re wearing. I look forward to feeling your tight little body in it.”

She stopped again, putting aside the laptop. She typed slowly, “Better men than you have tried.”

“Ahh,” I replied, “But I know you. I know your weakness. I told you that there would be a price for remaining on the job.”

Cockily, she replied, “What…you’re going to bomb a subway train?”

“No. I’m going to give the names of your family and friends to my employer.”

Another pause. I thought the connection was dead since she didn’t move an inch on the monitor. But slowly, she replied, “What do you want?”

I felt my cock stirring again. “You.”

Quicker than I expected, she shot back, “Give me your best shot.”

“I want you to show me your body. Use your internal camera and I want to see you in your uniform in 60 seconds or I send your parents’ names to my employer. Starting now.”

Ten seconds went by motionless before she stood up and disappeared into the bedroom. She pulled the crumpled uniform out of the hamper and slipped it on, minus the cowl, and returned to the computer. She typed, “Is this what you want, you sicko?”

I waited. I watched her in front of the computer as she tried to locate the hidden camera. I felt my cock swelling again. I wanted to order her to me, to put those red lips around it and service me, but I replied, “Now you will strip it off for me, slowly.”

“I will not,” she said to the computer without typing. But, in a minute, she began to strip. Awkwardly, she removed her gloves, her boots and her bodystocking. She stood naked in her cape as I laughed hysterically. Every second, saved to Digital videotape.

“Now here’s the thing. I’m coming to you in the night. When I do, I expect you to do as I tell you. If you resist in any way, there will be another group of four who die. Do you understand?”

YES came the response. I smiled.

Of course, as I expected, plans were laid out to defend against my arrival. I did point out, subtly, that contacting anyone else was forfeiture of innocent lives. Inside, I knew she wanted me to come. I knew she either wanted me to come and treat her the same way I had before, or to come so she could clean my clock. Either way, I would have killed to possess her one last time even if it meant I was locked away for another 20 years.

The lights were out when I arrived, which wasn’t a concern since I used night vision goggles. I knew the layout of the house very well and felt I lived there already. I knew the shape in the bed was hers from the heat signature. No fake pillows under the sheets while she waited in the closet bullshit.

She sat up in front of me, totally encased in her lycra costume. I pulled two sets of handcuffs from my sidebag and quickly locked her to her own bedposts. I figured she could escape them if she wanted, but it would give me an extra second to retreat if necessary. She submitted to the shackling, saying nothing as I brushed my hand over her body. She lay back, knowing she wasn’t going to be harmed. I took off my pants and underwear, sliding into bed with her. I was going to fuck Batgirl and use her body to my own satisfaction. I rested my cock on her abdomen as I opened her mouth zipper to kiss her. She met my kiss lightly, as if obliged to do so and nothing more. I smiled. Her resistance was turning me on. I slid my hand around her tits, remembering from the long year of separation how wonderful they felt in my fingers, how firm and how exotic they were. The nipples quickly hardened and I felt her chest rise and fall more quickly to my touch. At least, I thought, some of her isn’t resisting.

“I have to check you out completely,” I said, unbuckling her utility belt and casting it to the side of the bed. I ran my hands along the side of her body and around the waistband of her tights, looking for anything stowed in her costume, any contraband that might interfere with my mission. I fond nothing, but managed to illicit moans of pleasure from my mute slave. I slid a finger over her crotch zipper and she arched her back, moaning softly. I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to punish her for putting me away. I turned her over on her stomach, crossing her arms above her head. Her cape lay crumpled on the floor, so I had no trouble getting access to her tight ass. I raised a hand and brought it down smartly on one cheek. She gasped and muffled a cry. I brought it down equally hard on the other cheek. She squealed.

I repeated the punishment, bringing my hand down several times as her body contorted in pain and pleasure. My cock ached to be inside her again, and as I looked at her red lips pursed against the pain, I knew I wanted her to take my cock in that small, wet hole. I turned her head to me and leveled my waist to her face. I presented her my erect member and ordered her to kiss the tip. She did so, reluctantly, with a discreet little lick that told me she would take it if I wished. I pressed the tip between her lips and she slowly opened her mouth. I admonished her against taking any action or people would die, but before I finished the sentence, she was sucking my cock as if I was a lover instead of an attacker. She swallowed my cock, licking and sucking it in her binds as I caressed her body, imagining the things I wanted to do to her.

In a few minutes, I felt the first wave that told me I was going to come. I withdrew my cock and mounted her from behind, pulling her tiny waist against me as I unzipped her crotch. She resisted at first, but she was wet enough that one thrust brought me inside completely. I held myself inside her for a full minute, afraid that the next movement might cause me to explode inside her. I held her tits in my hands and bent over to kiss the back of her neck. I heaved on her and she shook under my attack, but finally, the urge to cum subsided and I was able to begin pumping her, pulling her hips against my waist to penetrate her as deeply as possible. As I did, I noticed the crotch zipper slipping up over her ass. I listened to her whine and moan to my strokes and thrusts. I unzipped the crotch further and realized it availed me of her tight pink ass.

I felt the stirring once again and, with two quick movements, I removed my swollen prick from her pussy and positioned it at her asshole. I continued to massage her clit and pressed myself into her. She resisted more then than I remember any other time. She clenched herself and I felt so much pressure against me as I penetrated her. I held her tight, kissing her neck and fondling her as I took her from behind. She continued to resist vocally, but her body tried to accommodate my intrusion. Finally, I was inside her completely and she was able to relax.

When I began to pull back, she struggled again. I began making shallow thrusts, kneading her clit with my hand and telling her she was being a good girl for obeying me. She began pressing her hips back against me, fucking back and, very, very soon, I felt the stirring. This time, Batgirl was fucking back so hard and vigorously, I couldn’t stop before I came.

She collapsed underneath me. I kissed her and slowly removed myself, rolling onto her side. She whispered to me, “I am yours, master. You’ve beaten me. DO with me what you wish…”

With that we both drifted to sleep.

To Be Continued...
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