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Barbara’s first night as the superheroine stripper Gold Avenger went better than she anticipated, and the experience fed her ego immensely. Barbara had used the same degree of preparation, planning and focus for her performance at the strip club as she used for a night of crimefighting as Batgirl. Using her gymnastics background, Barbara performed a seductive combination of athleticism and eroticism in her pole routine. The performance was so remarkable, even some of the other strippers had to pause and watch. Even Eva, who had accompanied Barbara to the club as support, was impressed.
But Barbara revealed her inexperience in the transition from the pole to the stage. To the amusement of many, Barbara was so focused on her dance performance she forgot to make herself available to the outstretched arms desperate to touch her body while slipping a ten or twenty—even an occasional C-note—into the mesmerizing skin-tight gold outfit tightly hugging that stunningly sexy body.
One of the strippers, dressed in an alluring black unisuit with a gold lightning bolt on her chest, pulled her aside between sets to help her out.
“Don’t forget why you’re here. The first night on stage can be overwhelming. You’re plenty hot babe. Just relax and crawl around on the edge of the stage where your fanboys and fangirls can give you some appreciation.”
“It is a bit nerve-racking out there,” said Barbara. She extended her hand to her newfound friend. “My name’s Bar—I mean, Gold Avenger.” She smiled awkwardly.
“Miss Marvelous,” the woman winked and smiled back at her. “Don’t overthink things. Go out there and have fun turning those people on. Just remember your goal: take their money in exchange for allowing them the brief thrill of being close to their sexual fantasy.” She playfully smacked the Gold Avenger on the ass before returning backstage to prepare for her set. “And welcome to the team!”
Miss Marvelous’ advice helped. Dancing and prancing off the pole was difficult for the Gold Avenger, and her moves were stiff and awkward. Nonetheless, her sheer sexuality was a powerful magnet, and those near the stage were drawn to the vision in gold.
Though the club’s rules were explicit about touching the strippers, a few patrons were a bit liberal in placing bills beneath the Gold Avenger’s costume. And a group of young stockbrokers from Gotham’s prestigious Stratford Oakmont out celebrating their hostile takeover of Knab Technology took quite a few liberties with her: she had her nipple pinched and breasts groped a few times, and several hands squeezed her firm butt cheeks—one broker even slipped his finger slipped beneath the metallic gold fabric and almost found its way up her pussy!
But when Barbara returned to her apartment and counted up her take for the night, she found herself distracted by the total—over $2K in less than three hours’ work! Despite being a real-life superheroine, Barbara Gordon was a young woman with a healthy ego and expensive tastes. The financially successful night at the club—along with the ego boost from clienteles’ comments—served as the catalyst to Ms. Gordon’s enthusiastic venture into stripping.
Despite the late hours working at the club, Barbara managed to balance her stripping hours with her shift at the library and the occasional late night escapade as Batgirl. She even felt a sense of satisfaction for seamlessly integrating her new role as the superheroine stripper Gold Avenger into her weekly routine.
Barbara embraced her role at Superheroine HQ within her first month stripping at the club. She derived a sense of pride in the way customers clamored to her stage when she hit the floor. Whereas at first she felt put off by the men ogling her on stage, she quickly came to cherish their hypnotized gaze.
And it did not take long for the Gold Avenger to become one of the most popular strippers at Superheroine HQ. Barbara’s gymnastics background and athletic body made her a natural pole dancer, her gorgeous curves and seductive style made her irresistibly alluring to the clientele, and her luscious lips and metallic hair made her a blonde bombshell notwithstanding the gold mask hiding the upper portion of her face.
Only Ms. Marvelous—Lexxie’s superheroine stripper persona—generated as much attention and adulation as the Gold Avenger. And as Lexxie and Barbara hit it off, so too did Ms. Marvelous and the Gold Avenger hit things off on stage. But their dynamics in the club’s most private rooms were the things fantasies were made of.
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Becoming the Gold Avenger was an exciting process, but neglecting Batgirl began to affect Barbara’s psyche. Despite her athletic background, Barbara had some growing pains in transforming herself into a high-end stripper. Pole-dancing was relatively easy for her to master, but dancing and stripping in a seductive manner took some serious practice. And despite her encouragement, Dr. Kinsey was quite critical with Barbara; she would constantly reproach her moves. “You’re dancing like Barbara Gordon at a bar; you need to perform like Gold Avenger at a strip club!”
Barbara decided to take a week off from work and her Gold Avenger training in order to satisfy her Batgirl alter-ego. Her frustrations at being new and awkward at stripping needed to be balanced with the satisfaction of being prepared and skilled at crimefighting.
The week was gratifying. The first few nights were standard fare for the superheroine—mostly low-level criminals—but towards the end of the week Batgirl felt a lingering lack of satisfaction despite her successful crimefighting. She realized what it was when she found herself near the Midtown Repository. The sexual stimulation from Ms. Marvelous at the club and Eva at her office had been deeply satisfying, but Batgirl became overwhelmed by a powerful urge to have a man’s cock shoved up her pussy. She wanted to feel a man cumming on her, manhandling her!
But the week provided no opportunities, intentional or otherwise. Batgirl was never in any real peril, and none of the criminals she went up against were remotely attractive. In fact, she had to try something she had never tried before: she decided to present herself. All she had to do was find someone attractive and athletic enough to satisfy her sexual needs.
On Friday night, Batgirl made her way to the Financial District and entered the Stratford Oakmont building. After a successful week, many Oakmont stockbrokers spent their money and nights either in Superheroine HQ’s Gold Club or celebrating on the top floors of the Stratford Oakmont building with some top end superheroine strippers for a late night of drinking and debauchery. The depths of their depravity was legendary, which was part of Batgirl’s inspiration to insinuate herself into their revelry.
Batgirl parked her motorcycle in a discreet corner of the underground parking lot. Removing a code grabber from her utility belt, Batgirl used the device to gain entry into the Stratford Oakmont building. Having already hacked into the security system, Batgirl had the bottom floor camera system on a three-hour loop from the previous night. As no one would likely be on the ground floor during that time, Batgirl would be able to enter the building without any risk of being recorded or seen. She walked over to the lobby where the security system was located and shut down the cameras on the 19th floor. Barring some extraordinary event, it was highly unlikely anyone would check Friday’s security footage. And even if the footage was checked, the odds of the 19th floor’s footage being closely scrutinized was practically nil—the floor was merely a collection of offices and cubicles.
Confident in her clandestine caper, Batgirl made her way up the stairs to the 19th floor. It was a perspiring but excited Batgirl who quietly walked through the 19th floor. It was silent with only the dim glow from the various electronic devices, but she could hear bass from music being played on a floor above. As she climbed the flight of stairs to the 20th floor, music and loud voices became more distinct. Through the small window of the stairwell door could be seen a group of about 20 people drinking and talking in raised voices over the blaring music playing in the background. Some of the superheroine strippers from Superheroine HQ seductively danced alongside the stockbrokers. Batgirl even recognized a few of them from her visit to the club with Eva. She was mildly disappointed to find the Gold Avenger was not present, though a part of her was glad to see the Gold Avenger was too good to be pimped out to wealthy stockbrokers.
‘Time for a little role-play.’
Batgirl threw open the door and walked into the room with her usual flair. “Good evening,” Batgirl greeted the astounded onlookers. “My apologies for interrupting your party, but I need a few strong men to help me out.”
Batgirl stood in her power pose and looked over the stunned group.
“When did Superheroine HQ get a Batgirl stripper?!” one of the stockbrokers exclaimed.
“I’m glad they did! She’s fucking hot!”
The superheroine strippers glared at Batgirl. When had SHQ hired this stripper? And were they expected to split their tips with her?!
“Batgirl is going to be pissed to hear about this,” sneered one of the strippers.
“Who cares?! It’s not like she’s got a trademark on being Batgirl.”
Batgirl looked over the stockbrokers and pointed at two men who looked to be in their mid-20s and in good physical shape. “How about you two? Can I count on you boys to assist me?” The two nodded eagerly and she gestured for them to follow her. Neither man was about to refuse the amazingly accurate Batgirl model.
The three made their way back down to the 19th floor where Batgirl led them into one of the empty offices. She sauntered to the window overlooking the Financial District and turned around to face the two men, a sly and seductive look on her face. The dim light of the moon highlighted Batgirl’s curves as she stood, hands on her hips in a power pose, looking over the two men.
“How can we help you out ‘Batgirl’?” asked one of the men. The stripper looked so convincing as Batgirl, the two men were fully prepared to lend a hand with some sort of physical procedure.
“Are you both serious about helping a superheroine out?”
The two nodded. The alcohol and late night celebrating had made them quite suggestible and they had bought into Batgirl’s superheroine persona; they were soon rendered intoxicated by Batgirl’s request. Batgirl unbuckled her belt and dropped it to the floor.
“Then I’m going to need you both to give me a proper fuck.”
“Are…are you serious?!”
Batgirl smiled coyly.
The indecent request temporarily removed the Batgirl illusion. “I thought we couldn’t hook up with Superheroine HQ strippers outside of the Gold Club.”
This surprised Batgirl. She had assumed the club would encourage such “activities” both in and out of the club in order to maximize their profits. Though she was pleased to learn of the club’s standards, at the moment she was frustrated—she needed to get off!
Batgirl decided to build off the men’s ironic fantasy of being with the superheroine—she literally just needed to be herself.
“Look boys, being a superheroine is hard work and sometimes we need a little release.” Batgirl removed her boots and yanked down her skin-tight black pants, placing the boots and folded pants on the office desk. She now stood before the two men wearing her top, mask, cape and an alluring bright yellow thong. The two guys were still standing and staring.
“Are you saying you’re not interested in this?” She walked up to the two men, standing so close to one of them that her breasts pressed up against his chest. Then she suddenly reached down and cupped their crotches. “I thought you two would be up for the challenge of satisfying Batgirl,” she whispered coyly as she gently fondled their manhood.
The suspension of disbelief was complete. Both men frantically began to disrobe.
“Now two rules before you fuck me: the mask stays on at all times, and no tearing my uniform. Other than that,” Batgirl paused to let her words sink in, “anything goes!”
The men nodded eagerly as they stripped naked.
And anything did go. At first the men took turns fucking Batgirl, but watching one another sexing up the superheroine was such a turn-on that neither man could wait for long. And then Batgirl startled them. “Don’t sex me up like a superheroine, fuck me like a Gold Club stripper!”
That was all the motivation the men needed to give Batgirl what she wanted. The superheroine found herself on all fours giving one man a blow-job while the other fucked her from behind.
Occasionally she had to restrain the two stockbrokers, and at one point she had to be forceful with them when one of the men almost ripped her top as they tore it off her body. The men were surprised by her strength, which served Batgirl well: the guys became more comfortable manhandling Batgirl knowing she was strong enough to handle it.
At one point, Batgirl was shoved up against the large office window—wearing only her mask, gloves and boots—and fucked from behind. Looking down on Gotham, she wondered if anyone in the opposing building could see what was happening. A part of her wanted someone to see what was being done to her. What would Gotham’s citizens think if they could see their revered masked superheroine being forcefully fucked in an office building by two strangers?
As these thoughts went through her head, she reflected back to her first session with Dr. Kinsey and how reserved she had been. Two years ago, Batgirl had been a virgin superheroine. And now? A former Penthouse centerfold, Batgirl was having her pussy fingered while being fucked in the ass with her naked body pressed up against a giant window in the center of Gotham’s Financial District by a complete stranger!
‘I used to be such a good girl,’ Batgirl smirked as she thought to herself. And in contrast to her reflection, she pushed out her ass and ordered the man to be more forceful. “Fuck me harder! Punish me!”
Gripping Batgirl by the back of her cowl, the man shoved her head rudely against the window and began taunting her as he thrust himself as hard as he could against Batgirl’s naked ass.
Taking his cue from Batgirl, the man responded to her order in an equivalent tone: “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to be limping tomorrow Bat-slut! Now shut up and take it bitch!”
“Yes! Give it to me hard! Fuck me for the slut I am!” Batgirl panted, loving the way the man was taking on his role as Batgirl’s punisher: forcefully fucking her and treating her like a whore.
At that moment, the two men were convinced it truly was Batgirl being deservedly fucked in the office room. The role-play had become real for them, and Batgirl was doing her best to maintain its reality. Grasping the mouthy superheroine by her mask, the man fucking Batgirl from behind rudely slammed her head against the window and shoved her body up against the glass. It might have been painful for Batgirl had the pleasure of being manhandled and fucked to climax not been so overwhelmingly satisfying. With her head pressed against the window and her body repeatedly pounded against the glass, Batgirl released another powerful orgasm.
Batgirl was made to cum many times that night. After her fourth orgasm, she thought about calling it a night. But it had been such a long time since she had a hard cock up her pussy or in her ass! And though both men had already climaxed, the thought of fucking Batgirl sped up their recovery time. Her fifth orgasm—and her sweetest climax—was when she stood between the two men, her legs spread out to allow maximum access, let both men fuck her like the threesome she had many months before in Dr. Kinsey’s office. Whereas the previous time the threesome was a blend of eroticism tinged with violation, this threesome was pure sexual pleasure. She was pressed between the two men, one penetrating her pussy while the other fucked her up the ass.
“Do me at the same time,” panted Batgirl. “I want to feel both of you inside me at the same time.”
The two complied, and Batgirl squealed in sexual ecstasy as she felt both men penetrating her synchronously.
The combination of hearing Batgirl’s moaning and feeling themselves repeatedly entering Batgirl’s body brought both men to the heights of sexual climax. Batgirl sensed their bodies were on the precipice of orgasm. Hers was also on the verge of climax.
“I want you both to cum inside me now!” Batgirl blurted out.
The two men thrust into Batgirl one last time. She felt both their cocks deep inside of her. All three bodies shuddered, and then she felt the warm embrace of orgasm. The three of them stood pressed up against one another for a moment, then the two men slipped out of Batgirl’s body and stumbled back. One steadied himself against the desk while the other slumped on the couch. Batgirl staggered to the large office window and steadied herself against it, catching her breath and savoring her sexual satisfaction.
It was a little after 2 AM when Batgirl decided to call it a night. The two men were exhausted. One was leaning against the office desk and the other was sprawled out on the office couch. Looking for her skin-tight pants, she saw the man by the desk was distractedly fingering them.
“I’m going to need that back,” Batgirl smiled at the man.
“This is some high quality costume!” said the man as he handed over the pants.
“Thanks,” Batgirl murmured as she pulled on her pants and slipped her feet into her yellow boots. She felt immensely satisfied yet quite sore, and she gingerly made her way to the office door.
“So…um…how can we see you again?” Asked the man on the couch.
Batgirl paused. She was about to suggest asking for her at Superheroine HQ, but that would be as the Gold Avenger.
“Maybe I’ll have to come again for another visit. In the meantime, thank you for a very satisfying night boys,” Batgirl smiled at the two men as she quietly opened the door and walked out. Though she had planned on taking the stairs, she was exhausted and sore and the thought of walking down 19 floors was unappealing. In her current state of mind—relaxed, satisfied and with her guard down—Batgirl opted to take the elevator to the garage.
A thought came to mind as she waited for the elevator doors to open. She was surprised she had not already considered it: Batgirl could get laid any time she wanted! It was an arousing thought and one she would consider at length, though for now she wanted to relax back at her apartment: Batgirl had been properly manhandled and fucked, and now she needed some recovery time.
Batgirl was in a state of reverie as she exited the elevator into the building’s underground garage. Walking to her motorcycle, she noticed a second motorcycle parked beside hers. Despite the warm feeling of sexual bliss, Batgirl’s detective mind was sharp as ever. That motorcycle was not there when she arrived a little after midnight. All the strippers had already arrived before her and the stockbrokers were already on-site. Looking over the bike, Batgirl noticed a painting of a snarling cat on both sides of the frame. The painting triggered an embarrassing memory: her unfortunate night at the Gotham Repository.
A closer inspection of the motorcycle revealed it to be a woman’s bike. Perhaps the bike had nothing to do with the theft at the repository, yet the bike being parked beside the burglars’ delivery truck seemed to be more than mere coincidence. Had there been a third person involved in the heist?
Batgirl’s curiosity and her sensual satisfaction inspired her to investigate. Even if poking around the building proved fruitless, she might find another two brokers to pleasure her.
After an hour of stealthily sneaking about the building, Batgirl decided to hide in the garage and wait for the motorcycle’s owner to return. She was not quite sure what she would do when the woman appeared, but she needed to catch a glimpse of her.
Batgirl did not have to wait long. Hidden in the shadows, Batgirl watched and waited.
Before she knew it, a masked woman clad in a black catsuit was striding across the garage to the black motorcycle with the painted cats. The woman was so stealthy and silent that Batgirl barely registered her presence.
A closer inspection of the woman revealed her mask to have a subtle feline-theme, a perspective undoubtedly influenced by the image on the motorcycle. Two protrusions designed to look like cat ears had some sort of device implanted in them; the black catsuit, though tightly clinging to the woman’s curves, was made of a sort of kevlar material designed to blunt impact without restricting motion; the black boots were military-grade, more utilitarian than aesthetic. She wore some kind of tech goggles and a small black rucksack.
Batgirl felt an urge to confront the woman, yet she did not even have a pretext to detain her. All she had was the coincidence of seeing her bike outside the Gotham Repository. And between the soreness from her night’s antics and her post-coital comfort, Batgirl was in no condition for a serious conflict.
A moment later, the woman was gone.
Batgirl felt a pang of shame. The woman exuded a professional and highly-trained demeanor, which contrasted sharply with Batgirl’s lustful reason for being at Stratford Oakmont.
But why was that cat woman in the building? The thought stayed with Batgirl long into the night, longer than the sweet sexual satisfaction of being banged by the Oakmont stockbrokers.
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