"Lord Ffogg Thinks Small; Batgirl Bares All"
Posted: Mon Nov 10, 2014 10:28 am
"Lord Ffogg Thinks Small; Batgirl Bares All"
(Guest-starring Wonder Woman. I thought I'd take the lead from the "Batman" television series and just post this in two parts.)
Chapter 1 --
Somewhere in England, an unmarked gray van wound its way late at night along a remote mountain road. The full moon played hide and seek with the clouds as the van arrived at its destination. The castle wasn't much to look at -- a dilapidated old manor house with a turret tower on one side, encircled by an ivy-covered wall. The van drove through the gate and stopped underneath a portico where an electric light was burning to welcome them.
Two men got out of the cab. "Blimey!" said the driver, rubbing the back of his neck. "All the bloody way, I 'ad the feeling summat wuz following us!"
"You wuz just imagining things, mate," said the other, peering at the empty road behind them. "We got away scot-free."
The driver quickly spun around, just missing the lithe, spandex-clad figure which had leaped silently from the roof of the van into the shadows by the portico. "I reckon you're right," he said nervously, as he opened the back door of the van. "Let's get the bloody thing inside."
The two henchmen dragged heavy metal box out the back of the van. The label on the lid said, "Oxford Nuclear Research Laboratory". They carried the box inside, completely unaware of the masked eyes that watched their every move, or of the slender, caped form that followed them like a shadow.
"Blimey, I'll be glad when we can get out of this dump," one of the henchmen commented, as they passed through largely empty corridors. It was clear that the manor house had seen better days. The tapestries and the better antique furnishings had been sold off long ago, leaving only a few rusty suits of armor.
In the Great Hall, three wrought-iron chandeliers hung from the rafters overhead. Two big oak tables had been moved against the walls and were covered with stacks of books, glassware, and miscellaneous objects. Most of the room was filled with arcane scientific machinery... banks of monitor consoles, towering amplifier tubes interconnected by thick cables strung across the floor. In the midst of it all was a metal cubicle about six feet by six by six, with a hatch in the front.
At the far end of the hall, a middle-aged man dressed in a velvet smoking jacket and silk cravat was drinking tea. "Ah, Digby! Scudder! At last!" said Lord Ffogg, setting down his teacup. "Rutledge? I say, Rutledge! Where have you got to, man?"
"Here, your lordship," said Cedric Rutledge, a small man with scraggly white hair and thick eyeglasses. His eyes brightened with excitement as the thugs set the box down on one of tables. With shaking hands he undid the catches and raised the lid. "The lithium energy modulator!" he gasped, lifting out a small crystal cylinder. "How did you get it?"
"Probably best not to inquire, old chap," Lord Ffogg said, tapping the side of his nose meaningfully. "Now... how soon will the machine be ready to test?"
"It has taken my entire life," Rutledge said, his eyes glittering with emotion, "and cost my entire family fortune. Without your help, my lord... I don't know how I will ever be able to repay you."
"Tut-tut. I'm sure we'll come up with something..."
"How does five to ten years in prison sound?" said an arrogant feminine voice.
The men whirled around just as a beautiful young woman dropped from the rafters onto the table. Her flawless frame was sheathed in a purple full-body unitard which caressed her elegant curves like a second skin, with slightly darker gloves and ankle boots, and a wide yellow utility belt hugging her rounded hips. The girl's face was mostly hidden by a black mask and purple cowl, from which reddish tresses cascaded down her caped shoulders. And across the perfect twin hills of her gorgeous bust rode a gold chest emblem which the villains knew well.
"Batgirl!" said Lord Ffogg. "Whatever are you doing on this side of the Pond?"
The saucy superheroine cocked her head. Actually Barbara Gordon had been auditing an anthropology class at Oxford when she heard about the break-in at the Nuclear Physics lab, but he didn't need to know that.
"Foiling your little scheme, it looks like, Lord Ffogg," she said smugly. "Would you care to do the sensible thing and give up, or do I have to get rough?"
"Perish the thought," the villain sneered, backing away. "Get her, lads!"
The two henchmen rushed the gallant girl from both sides. Batgirl leaped up and caught hold of a chandelier, bringing both spandex-clad legs up in a high kick that knocked Digby backwards. As she swung back to the table top, Scudder caught her from behind, wrapping his hands around her graceful gams. But the spunky superheroine twisted her alluring body backwards, slipping like silk out of his clutches as she landed behind him, slamming his face into the thick oak table.
"You boys have to do a lot better than that!" Batgirl smirked, her cape dancing around her sensuous, sylph-like form.
Lord Ffogg had no false illusions about how well his henchman would fare against the darknight damsel. They were only a diversion while he pulled his Fog Pipe from the pocket of his smoking jacket. Quickly he thrust a sleeping fog pellet into the bowl and struck a match...
And at that instant, something knocked the pipe from his hands! As the pipe dropped to the floor, the whirling bat-arang completed its arc back to its mistress. "Don't think you'll catch me napping that easily, Lord Ffogg," Batgirl said, smugly holding her bat-arang in one hand and a pair of bat-cuffs in the other. "Allow me to introduce you to an American custom we call 'assume the position'..."
Just then, Rutledge picked up an iron mace and swung it at her. The plucky heroine easily sidestepped, but in doing so her high heel tripped on one of the cables underfoot. As she went down, Digby and Scudder threw themselves on top of her, using their weight to keep girl's alluring frame pinned while they grabbed her arms.
"Get your hands off of me!" Batgirl protested, her agility and fighting prowess pretty much nullified by her position, her gorgeous legs kicking uselessly as the men overpowered her.
"Grab her! Use them cuffs!" Scudder growled as the lissome lady squirmed and wriggled like a wildcat underneath them.
"No! You can't--!" Batgirl gasped, as her bat-cuffs clicked into place around her gloved wrists. A second later the two thugs hauled the cocky heroine to her feet, Digby copping a feel of her right breast through the flimsy fabric of her clingy unitard. Restrained by her own cuffs, she could only stand helpless in the men's clutches as Lord Ffogg unlatched her utility belt and took it away from her.
"Now, my fine filly," he gloated. "The boot is on the other leg, wot?"
"You won't get away with this!" Batgirl blustered, her cheeks flushed with the exertion of her struggles, beautiful chest rising and falling, nipples making tiny peaks against the front of her skin tight uniform.
Lord Ffogg paused as his gaze lit upon the metal cubicle in the center of the hall. "Mr. Rutledge! Didn't you say you needed a volunteer to test your machine? I think I may have one." His turned his eyes on Batgirl.
"Wh-what do you mean by that?" the heroine stammered, her eyes wide with alarm behind her mask. "What are you going to do to me?"
***
Chapter 2 --
"Just give me one moment, my lord," Rutledge said, bustling about among his equipment. Batgirl, held firmly and helplessly in between the two thugs, stiffened, but that was because Scudder was using his free hand to stroke her pert, spandex-clad bottom.
"Don't look so alarmed, my dear," Lord Ffogg said amiably. "Just a harmless scientific experiment. You see many years ago, Rutledge here discovered a bit of unknown radioactive material underneath the family castle. He found that it had a curious effect on living tissues. He called it Reducium, and he spent most of his life and his family fortune trying to harness it."
"Ready for her now, your lordship," Rutledge said.
Lord Ffogg hesitated. "You know, it just occurs to me... you were quite clever in following the lads here to my lair. But let's face it, you were never of much use without Batman and Robin to back you up. Whatever possessed you to track us down all on your own?"
Batgirl positively smirked. "Who said I was on my own?"
Just then the oak doors shivered from a heavy blow and flew open. Stepping through the wreckage came a slim, exquisitely feminine figure with luxurious jet black hair. Her gorgeous torso was clad in a red strapless bustier with a proud golden chest emblem. Below her trim waist were tight blue, star-spangled briefs, from which extended a pair of long, shapely legs shod in red knee boots. Her gold tiara glinting from her forehead, magic lasso dangling at her side, Wonder Woman swept into the room and folded her arms beneath her bust as she cocked her shapely hips.
"All right, boys," she said. "Fair warning. I'm not in any mood to play around."
Quick as a wink, Lord Ffogg pulled a revolver from under his smoking jacket. The Amazon reflexively raised her bullet-deflecting bracelets, but the villain pressed the gun barrel against Batgirl's temple. "This old Webley has a hair trigger, Wonder Woman. Don't do anything foolish."
"Don't worry about me, Wonder W--" Batgirl blurted, before Lord Ffogg clamped his free hand over her mouth and stifled her protests.
The gorgeous goddess sighed. "I might have known you'd be a coward," she glowered, planting her hands on her hips. "It looks like you have me over a barrel. What do you want?"
"Many things, dear lady," said Lord Ffogg. "But for the nonce, just you be a good girl and step inside that chamber there."
Wonder Woman gave the six-foot cubicle a quick once-over, expecting to find it made of adamantium or something. But the riveted metal skin appeared to be only sheet lead, built around a steel framework. It would hold a normal woman securely enough, but for her it was a joke; with her super strength, she could go through it like tin foil. "whatever you say, little man," she said, struggling to keep a straight face and not smirk too much.
The lean, leggy superheroine stepped inside the chamber, and Digby closed the hatch, spinning the wheel to lock her in. Lord Ffogg, Scudder, and Batgirl waited breathlessly as Rutledge strapped on goggles and busied himself with the controls. There was a small slit window in the side of the chamber. Peering into it, he threw the last switch and the machine began to hum...
Inside the chamber, Wonder Woman found herself standing on top of a fine metal grating. She was just wondering how long she should play along with this farce when louvers opened in the floor and a sickly yellow glow, tinged slightly with green, poured upward, flooding the chamber and bathing her in its putrid light.
The radiation felt hot on her bare legs and face, cascading upward over her supple young body. But it wasn't the healthy, life-giving heat of the sun. Rather it was a feverish hotness that made her skin tingle. Wonder Woman spun this way and that, her jet black tresses dancing around her face as she struggled to find someplace in the small room to avoid the rays.
i]Enough is enough![/i] she decided. The Amazing Amazon flung herself at the lead walls of her prison and stumbled, her pretty knees trembling with weakness. Her slender frame suddenly felt puny and ineffectual, her arms and legs like putty as her strength drained away.
"What's... happening..." Wonder Woman gasped, perspiration beading on her skin. Her legs giving way, she sagged to the floor like a child, her skin tight uniform feeling unaccountably loose around her trim, shapely body. On hands and knees, the heroine struggled to lift herself upright, feeling on the verge of passing out.
"Time," announced Rutledge, as he threw the switch. The louvers snapped back into place, the yellow glow died as the machine powered down. Digby unsealed the hatch and swung it open. Lord Ffogg lowered his pistol as he, Batgirl and Scudder leaned closer to look inside.
"Wonder Woman!" the Darknight Damsel gasped. The Amazing Amazon's red, white and blue leotard was lying flat on the floor and empty, along with her boots, bracelets, tiara, golden belt and magic lasso! "What have you DONE to her, you fiend?"
Digby cautiously stepped inside and dropped to one knee beside the scanty pile of Wonder Woman's clothing. He carefully picked up her sassy little bustier, discovering that the garment wasn't entirely empty. Something very small was feebly trying to escape from the folds of cloth.
"What's this then?" the hoodlum grinned, as his fingers closed around a tiny struggling figure the size of a little girl's fashion doll. He was astonished to feel smooth, supple, bare flesh as he plucked it free of her uniform. "Blimey! It works, guv'nor! The ruddy machine works!"
"Put me down, you stupid male!" Wonder Woman squeaked in a high, piping voice. "You can't do this to me!" She was about six inches tall, her bare feet kicking, tiny fists pummeling uselessly at the man's calloused fingers holding her imprisoned, while his thumb rubbed up and down against her pliant little breasts. Despite her bravado, her heart was thumping with fear, her cheeks flushed with humiliation as she wriggled and squirmed, as helpless as a baby in his grasp.
Lord Ffogg, Scudder, and Rutledge gaped in amazement. Batgirl stood in the background frozen open-mouthed in shock. She had to admit to herself that when she had called Diana earlier in the evening, she had been counting on Wonder Woman to save her bacon if she got in over her head. But now, reduced to the size of a child's toy, the Amazon superheroine was herself defeated and in need of rescue!
***
Chapter 3 --
"Aw, ain't she adorable?" said Scudder. "Lemme see her lady parts, mate."
"Gently now, lad," warned Lord Ffogg, as Digby obliged.
"NO! Don't you dare!" Wonder Woman's squeaky elfin voice protested as she struggled uselessly.
"'old still, ye wee nipper," the thug said. Keeping a firm hold around the Amazon's silken torso with his thumb and middle finger, he relaxed the other fingers enough that the rest of her smooth defenseless body could be seen, while using his left hand to immobilize her kicking legs and spread them apart.
"Don't you dare touch me!" the heroine whined, helpless in the henchman's gigantic hand. "Stop it! Unhand me, you bully!" Wonder Woman seethed with humiliation as the impertinent thug spread her legs and displayed her vulnerable pink female slit, and there wasn't a single thing she could do about it!
"That is summat you don't see every day of the week," Scudder commented, nevertheless sounding slightly disappointed. "Only there ain't much practical use outta a pussy that tiny, if ye know what I mean." He and Digby snickered crudely.
Lord Ffogg was scrutinizing the heroine's snatch through his monocle. "Ha-ha-ha. What do you say about that, Weeny Woman?" he asked. "Does size matter?"
"Go stuff yourself!" the helpless Amazon blustered, cheeks burning with frustration as she wriggled ineffectually in the thug's grasp.
Amid the various objects on the oak table was a sturdy glass aquarium tank about 20 inches by 10 inches, and about 14 inches deep. Digby carefully set Wonder Woman down inside it, as Scudder looked around for something to use as a lid. He found a piece of thick cardboard and laid it across the opening, anchoring it in place with a couple of heavy books.
As soon as she was released, Wonder Woman fell to her knees, still feeling weak as a kitten. Without her golden belt, her Amazonian super strength had deserted her. Quickly she crawled into a corner of the tank, pressing her fragile body into the angle of the cool glass walls for protection.
Lord Ffogg turned his attention to Batgirl. "And now, you caped pest," he said, rubbing his hands. "Your turn."
"N-no!" the Darknight Damsel wailed, her dark eyes wide with sheer terror. "No, please! Please don't... I beg of you... I implore you..." Ignoring her pleas, the two henchmen seized Batgirl's arms on either side and lifted her slender body off the floor, carrying her, kicking and screaming, into the chamber and sealing the hatch.
Wonder Woman could only watch helplessly from her vantage point in the glass tank as Rutledge operated his infernal machine once again. Minutes later, the newly shrunken Batgirl was cowering right beside her, her pale, nude body trembling with fright and embarrassment, her short black hair looking tousled and unkempt after the manhandling the thugs had given her in dragging her out of her costume. Overwhelmed by the sudden shock of being completely stripped of all her weapons and clothing, Batgirl sat dazed, unable to even cover her perky young breasts as the men stood ogling them both.
"My word, a wig!" said Lord Ffogg, as his henchmen pawed over Batgirl's empty leotards, cape and cowl. "She was wearing a red hairpiece under her cowl. That's dashed clever, isn't it, lads?"
"Er... right, my lord," Scudder agreed, looking up guiltily from fondling the silky spandex fabric, which still retained the relative shape and warmth of Batgirl's pert little butt.
"But I do believe I have seen this girl before," Lord Ffogg mused, scratching his chin as he stared at the brunette superheroine sitting vanquished and unclothed inside the tank, holding her knees pressed primly together. "I have it! That police commissioner's daughter. What was her name...?"
Batgirl swallowed a lump in her throat, her stomach twisting in knots. This was like a nightmare -- it just kept getting worse and worse! Being captured wasn't bad enough, being ignominiously stripped of her utility belt, shrunk to the size of a doll and completely undressed weren't bad enough... without her mask and cowl there was nothing to protect her secret identity as Barbara Gordon!
Fortunately Cedric Rutledge stepped in to interrupt the villain's train of thought before he could place her. "My lord?" the scientist said timidly. "May I speak?"
"Certainly professor," the dastardly aristocrat said. "I haven't yet congratulated you on the success of your project, have I?"
"Thank you, thank you, most kind of you," Rutledge murmured. He hesitated, his eyes roaming over the delicate, doll-like forms of the two superheroines, powerless and imprisoned in the glass case. "As you know, I developed the Reducium Ray for the purpose of alleviating overpopulation. If people are one tenth their size, they take up less space, use less food, less energy..."
"An admirable goal, surely!" Lord Ffogg said heartily, placing a comradely arm on the other man's shoulder. "I've always admired that about you, Cedric. May I call you Cedric? I feel I have gotten to know you so well these past few days..."
"Yes, of course. But... using the ray against Batgirl and Wonder Woman... rendering them powerless... I am not certain if this is right."
"My dear Cedric, I understand your concerns and I applaud them," Lord Ffogg said, giving a surreptitious signal to his henchmen. "I just need them out of the way for a few days. Is that too much to ask?"
The henchmen loomed up silently behind Rutledge, Scudder wielding a blackjack poised to strike. Batgirl and Wonder Woman huddled together in alarm, nuzzling one another's soft nubile bodies. Were the bad guys about to dispose of the only man who knew how to change them back?
"Well... no..." Rutledge said at last. "If you're sure it's necessary."
The henchmen relaxed.
"Do you trust me, Cedric?" Lord Ffogg said. "You've earned a rest after all your hard work. Go up to your room, get some sleep. Leave the rest to me."
"All right. I'll do that." Rutledge shuffled away.
Lord Ffogg watched him go, then turned quietly to Digby and Scudder. "Once he's asleep, make sure he stays that way. Use the chloroform. And lock him in his room. We can't afford him suddenly having a conscience."
As the two henchmen departed, the villain knelt down to put his face up to the glass of the aquarium. Wonder Woman and Batgirl quailed before him, cowering together like frightened children. "Wh-what are you going to do with us?" Diana asked, her voice trembling with submissiveness.
Ffogg smiled. "Well you might ask, Weeny Wench," he smirked. "Tomorrow morning I have a small transaction to discuss with the Bank of Scotland. Twenty million Euros worth. With you two adorable little pipsqueaks helpless in my clutches, I envision a crime spree that will set England on its ear." Seeing the heroines shivering with fright, he took a monogrammed silk handkerchief from his pocket and slipped it under the lid with them. "Best make yourselves comfortable, my little poppets. You're going to be in there for the rest of your lives."
(Guest-starring Wonder Woman. I thought I'd take the lead from the "Batman" television series and just post this in two parts.)
Chapter 1 --
Somewhere in England, an unmarked gray van wound its way late at night along a remote mountain road. The full moon played hide and seek with the clouds as the van arrived at its destination. The castle wasn't much to look at -- a dilapidated old manor house with a turret tower on one side, encircled by an ivy-covered wall. The van drove through the gate and stopped underneath a portico where an electric light was burning to welcome them.
Two men got out of the cab. "Blimey!" said the driver, rubbing the back of his neck. "All the bloody way, I 'ad the feeling summat wuz following us!"
"You wuz just imagining things, mate," said the other, peering at the empty road behind them. "We got away scot-free."
The driver quickly spun around, just missing the lithe, spandex-clad figure which had leaped silently from the roof of the van into the shadows by the portico. "I reckon you're right," he said nervously, as he opened the back door of the van. "Let's get the bloody thing inside."
The two henchmen dragged heavy metal box out the back of the van. The label on the lid said, "Oxford Nuclear Research Laboratory". They carried the box inside, completely unaware of the masked eyes that watched their every move, or of the slender, caped form that followed them like a shadow.
"Blimey, I'll be glad when we can get out of this dump," one of the henchmen commented, as they passed through largely empty corridors. It was clear that the manor house had seen better days. The tapestries and the better antique furnishings had been sold off long ago, leaving only a few rusty suits of armor.
In the Great Hall, three wrought-iron chandeliers hung from the rafters overhead. Two big oak tables had been moved against the walls and were covered with stacks of books, glassware, and miscellaneous objects. Most of the room was filled with arcane scientific machinery... banks of monitor consoles, towering amplifier tubes interconnected by thick cables strung across the floor. In the midst of it all was a metal cubicle about six feet by six by six, with a hatch in the front.
At the far end of the hall, a middle-aged man dressed in a velvet smoking jacket and silk cravat was drinking tea. "Ah, Digby! Scudder! At last!" said Lord Ffogg, setting down his teacup. "Rutledge? I say, Rutledge! Where have you got to, man?"
"Here, your lordship," said Cedric Rutledge, a small man with scraggly white hair and thick eyeglasses. His eyes brightened with excitement as the thugs set the box down on one of tables. With shaking hands he undid the catches and raised the lid. "The lithium energy modulator!" he gasped, lifting out a small crystal cylinder. "How did you get it?"
"Probably best not to inquire, old chap," Lord Ffogg said, tapping the side of his nose meaningfully. "Now... how soon will the machine be ready to test?"
"It has taken my entire life," Rutledge said, his eyes glittering with emotion, "and cost my entire family fortune. Without your help, my lord... I don't know how I will ever be able to repay you."
"Tut-tut. I'm sure we'll come up with something..."
"How does five to ten years in prison sound?" said an arrogant feminine voice.
The men whirled around just as a beautiful young woman dropped from the rafters onto the table. Her flawless frame was sheathed in a purple full-body unitard which caressed her elegant curves like a second skin, with slightly darker gloves and ankle boots, and a wide yellow utility belt hugging her rounded hips. The girl's face was mostly hidden by a black mask and purple cowl, from which reddish tresses cascaded down her caped shoulders. And across the perfect twin hills of her gorgeous bust rode a gold chest emblem which the villains knew well.
"Batgirl!" said Lord Ffogg. "Whatever are you doing on this side of the Pond?"
The saucy superheroine cocked her head. Actually Barbara Gordon had been auditing an anthropology class at Oxford when she heard about the break-in at the Nuclear Physics lab, but he didn't need to know that.
"Foiling your little scheme, it looks like, Lord Ffogg," she said smugly. "Would you care to do the sensible thing and give up, or do I have to get rough?"
"Perish the thought," the villain sneered, backing away. "Get her, lads!"
The two henchmen rushed the gallant girl from both sides. Batgirl leaped up and caught hold of a chandelier, bringing both spandex-clad legs up in a high kick that knocked Digby backwards. As she swung back to the table top, Scudder caught her from behind, wrapping his hands around her graceful gams. But the spunky superheroine twisted her alluring body backwards, slipping like silk out of his clutches as she landed behind him, slamming his face into the thick oak table.
"You boys have to do a lot better than that!" Batgirl smirked, her cape dancing around her sensuous, sylph-like form.
Lord Ffogg had no false illusions about how well his henchman would fare against the darknight damsel. They were only a diversion while he pulled his Fog Pipe from the pocket of his smoking jacket. Quickly he thrust a sleeping fog pellet into the bowl and struck a match...
And at that instant, something knocked the pipe from his hands! As the pipe dropped to the floor, the whirling bat-arang completed its arc back to its mistress. "Don't think you'll catch me napping that easily, Lord Ffogg," Batgirl said, smugly holding her bat-arang in one hand and a pair of bat-cuffs in the other. "Allow me to introduce you to an American custom we call 'assume the position'..."
Just then, Rutledge picked up an iron mace and swung it at her. The plucky heroine easily sidestepped, but in doing so her high heel tripped on one of the cables underfoot. As she went down, Digby and Scudder threw themselves on top of her, using their weight to keep girl's alluring frame pinned while they grabbed her arms.
"Get your hands off of me!" Batgirl protested, her agility and fighting prowess pretty much nullified by her position, her gorgeous legs kicking uselessly as the men overpowered her.
"Grab her! Use them cuffs!" Scudder growled as the lissome lady squirmed and wriggled like a wildcat underneath them.
"No! You can't--!" Batgirl gasped, as her bat-cuffs clicked into place around her gloved wrists. A second later the two thugs hauled the cocky heroine to her feet, Digby copping a feel of her right breast through the flimsy fabric of her clingy unitard. Restrained by her own cuffs, she could only stand helpless in the men's clutches as Lord Ffogg unlatched her utility belt and took it away from her.
"Now, my fine filly," he gloated. "The boot is on the other leg, wot?"
"You won't get away with this!" Batgirl blustered, her cheeks flushed with the exertion of her struggles, beautiful chest rising and falling, nipples making tiny peaks against the front of her skin tight uniform.
Lord Ffogg paused as his gaze lit upon the metal cubicle in the center of the hall. "Mr. Rutledge! Didn't you say you needed a volunteer to test your machine? I think I may have one." His turned his eyes on Batgirl.
"Wh-what do you mean by that?" the heroine stammered, her eyes wide with alarm behind her mask. "What are you going to do to me?"
***
Chapter 2 --
"Just give me one moment, my lord," Rutledge said, bustling about among his equipment. Batgirl, held firmly and helplessly in between the two thugs, stiffened, but that was because Scudder was using his free hand to stroke her pert, spandex-clad bottom.
"Don't look so alarmed, my dear," Lord Ffogg said amiably. "Just a harmless scientific experiment. You see many years ago, Rutledge here discovered a bit of unknown radioactive material underneath the family castle. He found that it had a curious effect on living tissues. He called it Reducium, and he spent most of his life and his family fortune trying to harness it."
"Ready for her now, your lordship," Rutledge said.
Lord Ffogg hesitated. "You know, it just occurs to me... you were quite clever in following the lads here to my lair. But let's face it, you were never of much use without Batman and Robin to back you up. Whatever possessed you to track us down all on your own?"
Batgirl positively smirked. "Who said I was on my own?"
Just then the oak doors shivered from a heavy blow and flew open. Stepping through the wreckage came a slim, exquisitely feminine figure with luxurious jet black hair. Her gorgeous torso was clad in a red strapless bustier with a proud golden chest emblem. Below her trim waist were tight blue, star-spangled briefs, from which extended a pair of long, shapely legs shod in red knee boots. Her gold tiara glinting from her forehead, magic lasso dangling at her side, Wonder Woman swept into the room and folded her arms beneath her bust as she cocked her shapely hips.
"All right, boys," she said. "Fair warning. I'm not in any mood to play around."
Quick as a wink, Lord Ffogg pulled a revolver from under his smoking jacket. The Amazon reflexively raised her bullet-deflecting bracelets, but the villain pressed the gun barrel against Batgirl's temple. "This old Webley has a hair trigger, Wonder Woman. Don't do anything foolish."
"Don't worry about me, Wonder W--" Batgirl blurted, before Lord Ffogg clamped his free hand over her mouth and stifled her protests.
The gorgeous goddess sighed. "I might have known you'd be a coward," she glowered, planting her hands on her hips. "It looks like you have me over a barrel. What do you want?"
"Many things, dear lady," said Lord Ffogg. "But for the nonce, just you be a good girl and step inside that chamber there."
Wonder Woman gave the six-foot cubicle a quick once-over, expecting to find it made of adamantium or something. But the riveted metal skin appeared to be only sheet lead, built around a steel framework. It would hold a normal woman securely enough, but for her it was a joke; with her super strength, she could go through it like tin foil. "whatever you say, little man," she said, struggling to keep a straight face and not smirk too much.
The lean, leggy superheroine stepped inside the chamber, and Digby closed the hatch, spinning the wheel to lock her in. Lord Ffogg, Scudder, and Batgirl waited breathlessly as Rutledge strapped on goggles and busied himself with the controls. There was a small slit window in the side of the chamber. Peering into it, he threw the last switch and the machine began to hum...
Inside the chamber, Wonder Woman found herself standing on top of a fine metal grating. She was just wondering how long she should play along with this farce when louvers opened in the floor and a sickly yellow glow, tinged slightly with green, poured upward, flooding the chamber and bathing her in its putrid light.
The radiation felt hot on her bare legs and face, cascading upward over her supple young body. But it wasn't the healthy, life-giving heat of the sun. Rather it was a feverish hotness that made her skin tingle. Wonder Woman spun this way and that, her jet black tresses dancing around her face as she struggled to find someplace in the small room to avoid the rays.
i]Enough is enough![/i] she decided. The Amazing Amazon flung herself at the lead walls of her prison and stumbled, her pretty knees trembling with weakness. Her slender frame suddenly felt puny and ineffectual, her arms and legs like putty as her strength drained away.
"What's... happening..." Wonder Woman gasped, perspiration beading on her skin. Her legs giving way, she sagged to the floor like a child, her skin tight uniform feeling unaccountably loose around her trim, shapely body. On hands and knees, the heroine struggled to lift herself upright, feeling on the verge of passing out.
"Time," announced Rutledge, as he threw the switch. The louvers snapped back into place, the yellow glow died as the machine powered down. Digby unsealed the hatch and swung it open. Lord Ffogg lowered his pistol as he, Batgirl and Scudder leaned closer to look inside.
"Wonder Woman!" the Darknight Damsel gasped. The Amazing Amazon's red, white and blue leotard was lying flat on the floor and empty, along with her boots, bracelets, tiara, golden belt and magic lasso! "What have you DONE to her, you fiend?"
Digby cautiously stepped inside and dropped to one knee beside the scanty pile of Wonder Woman's clothing. He carefully picked up her sassy little bustier, discovering that the garment wasn't entirely empty. Something very small was feebly trying to escape from the folds of cloth.
"What's this then?" the hoodlum grinned, as his fingers closed around a tiny struggling figure the size of a little girl's fashion doll. He was astonished to feel smooth, supple, bare flesh as he plucked it free of her uniform. "Blimey! It works, guv'nor! The ruddy machine works!"
"Put me down, you stupid male!" Wonder Woman squeaked in a high, piping voice. "You can't do this to me!" She was about six inches tall, her bare feet kicking, tiny fists pummeling uselessly at the man's calloused fingers holding her imprisoned, while his thumb rubbed up and down against her pliant little breasts. Despite her bravado, her heart was thumping with fear, her cheeks flushed with humiliation as she wriggled and squirmed, as helpless as a baby in his grasp.
Lord Ffogg, Scudder, and Rutledge gaped in amazement. Batgirl stood in the background frozen open-mouthed in shock. She had to admit to herself that when she had called Diana earlier in the evening, she had been counting on Wonder Woman to save her bacon if she got in over her head. But now, reduced to the size of a child's toy, the Amazon superheroine was herself defeated and in need of rescue!
***
Chapter 3 --
"Aw, ain't she adorable?" said Scudder. "Lemme see her lady parts, mate."
"Gently now, lad," warned Lord Ffogg, as Digby obliged.
"NO! Don't you dare!" Wonder Woman's squeaky elfin voice protested as she struggled uselessly.
"'old still, ye wee nipper," the thug said. Keeping a firm hold around the Amazon's silken torso with his thumb and middle finger, he relaxed the other fingers enough that the rest of her smooth defenseless body could be seen, while using his left hand to immobilize her kicking legs and spread them apart.
"Don't you dare touch me!" the heroine whined, helpless in the henchman's gigantic hand. "Stop it! Unhand me, you bully!" Wonder Woman seethed with humiliation as the impertinent thug spread her legs and displayed her vulnerable pink female slit, and there wasn't a single thing she could do about it!
"That is summat you don't see every day of the week," Scudder commented, nevertheless sounding slightly disappointed. "Only there ain't much practical use outta a pussy that tiny, if ye know what I mean." He and Digby snickered crudely.
Lord Ffogg was scrutinizing the heroine's snatch through his monocle. "Ha-ha-ha. What do you say about that, Weeny Woman?" he asked. "Does size matter?"
"Go stuff yourself!" the helpless Amazon blustered, cheeks burning with frustration as she wriggled ineffectually in the thug's grasp.
Amid the various objects on the oak table was a sturdy glass aquarium tank about 20 inches by 10 inches, and about 14 inches deep. Digby carefully set Wonder Woman down inside it, as Scudder looked around for something to use as a lid. He found a piece of thick cardboard and laid it across the opening, anchoring it in place with a couple of heavy books.
As soon as she was released, Wonder Woman fell to her knees, still feeling weak as a kitten. Without her golden belt, her Amazonian super strength had deserted her. Quickly she crawled into a corner of the tank, pressing her fragile body into the angle of the cool glass walls for protection.
Lord Ffogg turned his attention to Batgirl. "And now, you caped pest," he said, rubbing his hands. "Your turn."
"N-no!" the Darknight Damsel wailed, her dark eyes wide with sheer terror. "No, please! Please don't... I beg of you... I implore you..." Ignoring her pleas, the two henchmen seized Batgirl's arms on either side and lifted her slender body off the floor, carrying her, kicking and screaming, into the chamber and sealing the hatch.
Wonder Woman could only watch helplessly from her vantage point in the glass tank as Rutledge operated his infernal machine once again. Minutes later, the newly shrunken Batgirl was cowering right beside her, her pale, nude body trembling with fright and embarrassment, her short black hair looking tousled and unkempt after the manhandling the thugs had given her in dragging her out of her costume. Overwhelmed by the sudden shock of being completely stripped of all her weapons and clothing, Batgirl sat dazed, unable to even cover her perky young breasts as the men stood ogling them both.
"My word, a wig!" said Lord Ffogg, as his henchmen pawed over Batgirl's empty leotards, cape and cowl. "She was wearing a red hairpiece under her cowl. That's dashed clever, isn't it, lads?"
"Er... right, my lord," Scudder agreed, looking up guiltily from fondling the silky spandex fabric, which still retained the relative shape and warmth of Batgirl's pert little butt.
"But I do believe I have seen this girl before," Lord Ffogg mused, scratching his chin as he stared at the brunette superheroine sitting vanquished and unclothed inside the tank, holding her knees pressed primly together. "I have it! That police commissioner's daughter. What was her name...?"
Batgirl swallowed a lump in her throat, her stomach twisting in knots. This was like a nightmare -- it just kept getting worse and worse! Being captured wasn't bad enough, being ignominiously stripped of her utility belt, shrunk to the size of a doll and completely undressed weren't bad enough... without her mask and cowl there was nothing to protect her secret identity as Barbara Gordon!
Fortunately Cedric Rutledge stepped in to interrupt the villain's train of thought before he could place her. "My lord?" the scientist said timidly. "May I speak?"
"Certainly professor," the dastardly aristocrat said. "I haven't yet congratulated you on the success of your project, have I?"
"Thank you, thank you, most kind of you," Rutledge murmured. He hesitated, his eyes roaming over the delicate, doll-like forms of the two superheroines, powerless and imprisoned in the glass case. "As you know, I developed the Reducium Ray for the purpose of alleviating overpopulation. If people are one tenth their size, they take up less space, use less food, less energy..."
"An admirable goal, surely!" Lord Ffogg said heartily, placing a comradely arm on the other man's shoulder. "I've always admired that about you, Cedric. May I call you Cedric? I feel I have gotten to know you so well these past few days..."
"Yes, of course. But... using the ray against Batgirl and Wonder Woman... rendering them powerless... I am not certain if this is right."
"My dear Cedric, I understand your concerns and I applaud them," Lord Ffogg said, giving a surreptitious signal to his henchmen. "I just need them out of the way for a few days. Is that too much to ask?"
The henchmen loomed up silently behind Rutledge, Scudder wielding a blackjack poised to strike. Batgirl and Wonder Woman huddled together in alarm, nuzzling one another's soft nubile bodies. Were the bad guys about to dispose of the only man who knew how to change them back?
"Well... no..." Rutledge said at last. "If you're sure it's necessary."
The henchmen relaxed.
"Do you trust me, Cedric?" Lord Ffogg said. "You've earned a rest after all your hard work. Go up to your room, get some sleep. Leave the rest to me."
"All right. I'll do that." Rutledge shuffled away.
Lord Ffogg watched him go, then turned quietly to Digby and Scudder. "Once he's asleep, make sure he stays that way. Use the chloroform. And lock him in his room. We can't afford him suddenly having a conscience."
As the two henchmen departed, the villain knelt down to put his face up to the glass of the aquarium. Wonder Woman and Batgirl quailed before him, cowering together like frightened children. "Wh-what are you going to do with us?" Diana asked, her voice trembling with submissiveness.
Ffogg smiled. "Well you might ask, Weeny Wench," he smirked. "Tomorrow morning I have a small transaction to discuss with the Bank of Scotland. Twenty million Euros worth. With you two adorable little pipsqueaks helpless in my clutches, I envision a crime spree that will set England on its ear." Seeing the heroines shivering with fright, he took a monogrammed silk handkerchief from his pocket and slipped it under the lid with them. "Best make yourselves comfortable, my little poppets. You're going to be in there for the rest of your lives."