The Londinium Larcenies was the only three part story arc in the third season of Batman. In some ways it was the most frustrating. According to Miss Craig, Rudy Vallee, who played Lord Marmaduke Ffogg was an unpleasant cunt during production. Add to that it also had one of the single worst traps in the entire season, even worse than Riddler’s off screen steam room. Robin was supposed to be killed by a deadly killer bee sting, from the queen bee. Even on a crappy 1970s TV it looked like utter shit.
It did have some redeeming values, which possibly make it all the more frustrating. It had three co-villains, Rudy Vallee, There was Glynis Johns as his sister, Lady Penelope Peasoup, and his Daughter, Lady Prudence, played by the rather yummy Lyn Peters. Prudence had the very redeeming characteristic of being young and attractive and leading the gang of miniskirted students. She was also duplicitous and planning on betraying her own father in a plot to steal the family estate. She did do one of the best Batgirl takedowns of the series, gassing Batgirl in the Cricket Pavillion. But that is pretty much the limits of the positives.
Prudence captures Batgirl but doesn’t get the pleasure of devising the bat-trap. The send her to the dungeon. Instead of chaining her to a rack, a wheel or an iron maiden (not like the props department didn’t have some of those laying around). They do a loosey set of manacles to wall and try to use poison gas pellets to kill her. The annoying part is, this wasn’t the worst possible trap, but it paled in comparison to what could have been done… (If you haven’t already, you may want to read my one off story where I fix this problem, How to frame a Pfogg, https://www.deviantart.com/sneakly/art/ ... 1002209289 )
Robin, as usual, ends up with the much better and the more Batgirl worthy trap of being strapped to winch in the Tower Bridge. Batgirl would have looked great writhing desperately to escape.
Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Batgirl: Lesbo A-Go-GO
Part I
“Hi Daddy, are you ready to give me a ride to the airport?” Barbara parked her rolling luggage next to the door of her father’s office.
“Just a minute, Barbara. I have to finish some invoices to cover this month’s bat-expenses,”
“That’s okay, Daddy. We have plenty of time to catch my plane.” Barbara flopped down on Commissioner Gordon’s large leather couch. She normally would pretend to relax while interrogating her father about cases, feigning indifference as she asked probing questions, listening in on phone calls, or flipping through confidential police reports.
Today she was actually just relaxing. She wasn’t on a case. She wasn’t looking for a case. She was just enjoying the idea of spending a week in Londinium, going to a library conference on paper preservation and dating techniques for historical documents. Other than a twenty minute presentation she was going to make on securing rare documents while also keeping them publicly accessible, her time was her own.
“You’ll remember to call me when you get to the hotel, won’t you?” Jim Gordon didn’t even look up from his spread sheet of Batman related reimbursements.
“Of course I will, it’s only Londinium.” Barbara flipped off her low heels. “It’s not like I haven’t been there before…”
“Yes, yes, I know, but they have their share of arch criminals, just like Gotham, and they don’t have the likes of Batman, Robin and Batgirl to keep a lid on those scoundrels.” The Commissioner looked up from his papers. “They have the likes of the Siren, Lady Prudence and Dr Sonambula causing trouble these days. I would hate for you to get mixed up with any of them…”
“Lady Prudence?” Barbara sat up, trying to act cool. “I thought she was in Slutmoor Prison. Did she escape?”
“No, no. She was released” Gordon put down his papers. “She did her eighteen months for her part in stealing Lady Easterland’s Jeweled Easter Eggs and Her Majesty’s Royal Snuffboxes.”
“Wasn’t she also convicted for trying to holding Robin hostage and trying to murder him with a killer bee sting?” Barbara was a little surprised, a few of the girls from Fogg Place had flipped to avoid harsher sentences and had corroborated the claim.
“Well, she was, but something came out that undermined his credibility as a witness. And they had pictures.” Gordon put his papers away and went for his coat.
Barbara had heard about the allegations about Robin before. While supposedly being held hostage by Prudence and the other girls in their dormitory, Robin had gotten his dick sucked by every girl in the building. That there turned out to be pictures was news to her, but this was one of the few times Barbara didn’t hold Robin’s trashy antics against him. There were a lot of hot English girls going to the school and for a nineteen year old in tights, it was an opportunity not to be wasted.
“Just be careful, Barbara. When Lady Peasoup came to Gotham after escaping Slutmoor Prison, she had two people in mind, you and Batgirl.” Gordon helped his daughter with her coat. “Fortunately, Batgirl found her first.”
“Well, don’t worry Daddy, I am going to Londinium just for the library conference… Not for crime fighting.” Barbara meant it, too. Prudence had almost succeeded in framing Lord Fogg for the rape-murder of Batgirl. It had only been by sheer luck that Batgirl had escaped from Prudence’s fuck-chair deathtrap and Barbara wasn’t planning on any crime fighting capers in a city she barely knew.
“I hope not…” Gordon picked up her bag and held the door for his daughter. “Have you any friends at the conference?”
“Daddy, you realize there will only be librarians there, right?”
“Perhaps some dashing English museum curators? A few girls your own age?”
“Really Daddy… Most of the people there are going to be twenty years older than me and married.” Barbara couldn’t blame her father. Most of her classmates were married, engaged or already producing grandchildren. Jim Gordon had been holding out hope that his only daughter would follow the same pattern, especially after her wild youth of experimentation with martial arts and some rather notorious women like Pinky Pinkston and the then Princess Bess of Belgravia.
“I’ll catch a play or two and maybe go out for some dancing. There are going to be some luncheons and museum tours. Plus I will be presenting on some of the new security measures to protect Gotham’s rare book collections.” Barbara knew that she was asked to present because her father was a Police Commissioner and she had personally been credited with the recordings that put Lydia Lympet in prison.
++++++++++++++++
Barbara unlocked the door to her hotel room. She tossed her purse on the bed and looked at her unpacked suitcase in the corner.
“Well, I should have brought my Batgirl suit… this is getting a little dull.” She had been to two plays and her day looking at museum mock ups and different examples of paper preservation were interesting and informative, but she was an action junky and there was no one around to either fuck or fight. She didn’t even have Charlie to complain to.
Barbara looked out her hotel window. She was a couple of blocks from the river and could see Tower Bridge in the distance. There was a row of restaurants, a few clubs and some discotheques lining the river. They were not the usual tourist fare, they were a little rough around the edges and had gone from tourism to sailors and bikers with the usual cycle boom and decline that affects most cities.
Along the edge of the water was one place that looked a little more upscale than the others. On top of the building was a sign Barbara remembered from somewhere, a movie maybe… It was one of those landmarks that always seemed to exist.
It was a large Tipton Tea sign. Next to the company logo was the slogan “Tea loved to the final drop!” The company mascot, a drunken tea pot with a red nose and a besotted smile danced a little and then poured steaming water into the chipped little cup that was perched on the edge of the roof. Barbara had seen the pictures of the famous advertisement many times, but this was her time seeing it work in all its glory.
The pot tipped up and down a couple of times, on the third tip, it made a mechanical eye roll winked and a steaming stream of water would pour into the cup. Each pour was a little bit different and after the forth pour the cup would roll over and dump its contents into the river. And the process would start over again. Barbara watched it run through its little cycle and even took some pictures for her father.
On the brick wall between the second and third floor of the building was a big mod style sign that announced “Let’s Go A-Go-Go”.
“That looks fun, I haven’t been dancing in ages.” She went to her dresser and pulled out a skirt and top. It was made up from a bright purple sequined mini-skirt with a layered tasseled fringe and a matching midriff baring top and matching shoes and clutch.
“This should cause a commotion…” smiled to herself and went to shower and off the museum dust and boredom. Maybe she would find someone fun or get to beat up a proper British masher.
It was dark by the time she left her hotel. The evening had cooled down and a light mist hung in the air. Barbara was wearing a light orange wool coat she had brought along for the trip. She would have preferred something that better matched her outfit, but she could only bring so much with her.
Instead of hailing a cab, Barbara decided to walk down to the discotheque. The streets were lit, but not brightly and the allies that cut between blocks were dark and had only an occasional lamp over a back stoop.
She had a regrettably quiet walk down to the bars. When she came out on the street near the disco, she looked up. The building obscured the Tipton billboard, the ‘Let’s Go A-Go-Go” sign was in full view and brightly illuminated for the evening.
Barbara was surprised to see that the lighting for the sign was alternating colors as a color wheel moved in front of lights. As the colors changed, so did the lettering. Buried in the mix of colors, a second set of letters emerged. The blue themed ‘Let’s Go A-Go-Go’ lettering morphed into a red themed ‘Lesbo A-Go-Go’.
Barbara laughed out loud. “I may not get to beat up any mashers, but I have a feeling the night won’t be a total waste…”
Part I
“Hi Daddy, are you ready to give me a ride to the airport?” Barbara parked her rolling luggage next to the door of her father’s office.
“Just a minute, Barbara. I have to finish some invoices to cover this month’s bat-expenses,”
“That’s okay, Daddy. We have plenty of time to catch my plane.” Barbara flopped down on Commissioner Gordon’s large leather couch. She normally would pretend to relax while interrogating her father about cases, feigning indifference as she asked probing questions, listening in on phone calls, or flipping through confidential police reports.
Today she was actually just relaxing. She wasn’t on a case. She wasn’t looking for a case. She was just enjoying the idea of spending a week in Londinium, going to a library conference on paper preservation and dating techniques for historical documents. Other than a twenty minute presentation she was going to make on securing rare documents while also keeping them publicly accessible, her time was her own.
“You’ll remember to call me when you get to the hotel, won’t you?” Jim Gordon didn’t even look up from his spread sheet of Batman related reimbursements.
“Of course I will, it’s only Londinium.” Barbara flipped off her low heels. “It’s not like I haven’t been there before…”
“Yes, yes, I know, but they have their share of arch criminals, just like Gotham, and they don’t have the likes of Batman, Robin and Batgirl to keep a lid on those scoundrels.” The Commissioner looked up from his papers. “They have the likes of the Siren, Lady Prudence and Dr Sonambula causing trouble these days. I would hate for you to get mixed up with any of them…”
“Lady Prudence?” Barbara sat up, trying to act cool. “I thought she was in Slutmoor Prison. Did she escape?”
“No, no. She was released” Gordon put down his papers. “She did her eighteen months for her part in stealing Lady Easterland’s Jeweled Easter Eggs and Her Majesty’s Royal Snuffboxes.”
“Wasn’t she also convicted for trying to holding Robin hostage and trying to murder him with a killer bee sting?” Barbara was a little surprised, a few of the girls from Fogg Place had flipped to avoid harsher sentences and had corroborated the claim.
“Well, she was, but something came out that undermined his credibility as a witness. And they had pictures.” Gordon put his papers away and went for his coat.
Barbara had heard about the allegations about Robin before. While supposedly being held hostage by Prudence and the other girls in their dormitory, Robin had gotten his dick sucked by every girl in the building. That there turned out to be pictures was news to her, but this was one of the few times Barbara didn’t hold Robin’s trashy antics against him. There were a lot of hot English girls going to the school and for a nineteen year old in tights, it was an opportunity not to be wasted.
“Just be careful, Barbara. When Lady Peasoup came to Gotham after escaping Slutmoor Prison, she had two people in mind, you and Batgirl.” Gordon helped his daughter with her coat. “Fortunately, Batgirl found her first.”
“Well, don’t worry Daddy, I am going to Londinium just for the library conference… Not for crime fighting.” Barbara meant it, too. Prudence had almost succeeded in framing Lord Fogg for the rape-murder of Batgirl. It had only been by sheer luck that Batgirl had escaped from Prudence’s fuck-chair deathtrap and Barbara wasn’t planning on any crime fighting capers in a city she barely knew.
“I hope not…” Gordon picked up her bag and held the door for his daughter. “Have you any friends at the conference?”
“Daddy, you realize there will only be librarians there, right?”
“Perhaps some dashing English museum curators? A few girls your own age?”
“Really Daddy… Most of the people there are going to be twenty years older than me and married.” Barbara couldn’t blame her father. Most of her classmates were married, engaged or already producing grandchildren. Jim Gordon had been holding out hope that his only daughter would follow the same pattern, especially after her wild youth of experimentation with martial arts and some rather notorious women like Pinky Pinkston and the then Princess Bess of Belgravia.
“I’ll catch a play or two and maybe go out for some dancing. There are going to be some luncheons and museum tours. Plus I will be presenting on some of the new security measures to protect Gotham’s rare book collections.” Barbara knew that she was asked to present because her father was a Police Commissioner and she had personally been credited with the recordings that put Lydia Lympet in prison.
++++++++++++++++
Barbara unlocked the door to her hotel room. She tossed her purse on the bed and looked at her unpacked suitcase in the corner.
“Well, I should have brought my Batgirl suit… this is getting a little dull.” She had been to two plays and her day looking at museum mock ups and different examples of paper preservation were interesting and informative, but she was an action junky and there was no one around to either fuck or fight. She didn’t even have Charlie to complain to.
Barbara looked out her hotel window. She was a couple of blocks from the river and could see Tower Bridge in the distance. There was a row of restaurants, a few clubs and some discotheques lining the river. They were not the usual tourist fare, they were a little rough around the edges and had gone from tourism to sailors and bikers with the usual cycle boom and decline that affects most cities.
Along the edge of the water was one place that looked a little more upscale than the others. On top of the building was a sign Barbara remembered from somewhere, a movie maybe… It was one of those landmarks that always seemed to exist.
It was a large Tipton Tea sign. Next to the company logo was the slogan “Tea loved to the final drop!” The company mascot, a drunken tea pot with a red nose and a besotted smile danced a little and then poured steaming water into the chipped little cup that was perched on the edge of the roof. Barbara had seen the pictures of the famous advertisement many times, but this was her time seeing it work in all its glory.
The pot tipped up and down a couple of times, on the third tip, it made a mechanical eye roll winked and a steaming stream of water would pour into the cup. Each pour was a little bit different and after the forth pour the cup would roll over and dump its contents into the river. And the process would start over again. Barbara watched it run through its little cycle and even took some pictures for her father.
On the brick wall between the second and third floor of the building was a big mod style sign that announced “Let’s Go A-Go-Go”.
“That looks fun, I haven’t been dancing in ages.” She went to her dresser and pulled out a skirt and top. It was made up from a bright purple sequined mini-skirt with a layered tasseled fringe and a matching midriff baring top and matching shoes and clutch.
“This should cause a commotion…” smiled to herself and went to shower and off the museum dust and boredom. Maybe she would find someone fun or get to beat up a proper British masher.
It was dark by the time she left her hotel. The evening had cooled down and a light mist hung in the air. Barbara was wearing a light orange wool coat she had brought along for the trip. She would have preferred something that better matched her outfit, but she could only bring so much with her.
Instead of hailing a cab, Barbara decided to walk down to the discotheque. The streets were lit, but not brightly and the allies that cut between blocks were dark and had only an occasional lamp over a back stoop.
She had a regrettably quiet walk down to the bars. When she came out on the street near the disco, she looked up. The building obscured the Tipton billboard, the ‘Let’s Go A-Go-Go” sign was in full view and brightly illuminated for the evening.
Barbara was surprised to see that the lighting for the sign was alternating colors as a color wheel moved in front of lights. As the colors changed, so did the lettering. Buried in the mix of colors, a second set of letters emerged. The blue themed ‘Let’s Go A-Go-Go’ lettering morphed into a red themed ‘Lesbo A-Go-Go’.
Barbara laughed out loud. “I may not get to beat up any mashers, but I have a feeling the night won’t be a total waste…”
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
They had all the props for the first season Riddler episode, "Gets the Axe." But I guesss they were dismantled or returned instead of using a few in the Londinium episodes.
Lady Prudence's remarks to Robin while waiting for the bee to sting him imply she was less interested in Robin than the other girls. Maybe she would have preferred Batgirl if her aunt had allowed it. Either way I doubt Robin could have gotten away from the girls to even reach a window.More likely he bribed them like in your story.
Waiting for the next parts.
Lady Prudence's remarks to Robin while waiting for the bee to sting him imply she was less interested in Robin than the other girls. Maybe she would have preferred Batgirl if her aunt had allowed it. Either way I doubt Robin could have gotten away from the girls to even reach a window.More likely he bribed them like in your story.
Waiting for the next parts.
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
The same way they did a sequal for the siren(Joan collins) They should have done one for PrudenceVisitor wrote: ↑3 months agoThey had all the props for the first season Riddler episode, "Gets the Axe." But I guesss they were dismantled or returned instead of using a few in the Londinium episodes.
Lady Prudence's remarks to Robin while waiting for the bee to sting him imply she was less interested in Robin than the other girls. Maybe she would have preferred Batgirl if her aunt had allowed it. Either way I doubt Robin could have gotten away from the girls to even reach a window.More likely he bribed them like in your story.
Waiting for the next parts.
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Part 2
There was already a line out the door of the club and Barbara debated if the place was too crowded. Looking at the line of women waiting to get in, there was not a man among them, not even the usual gay wingman.
Inside the club, Barbara found a cavernous dance floor with a bar along the back and small crowded tables and booths packed with women eager to dance and mingle.
Barbara checked in her wool coat and held tight her clutch as she made her way to the bar. She ordered a tequila sunrise and moving to the edge of the dance floor, Barbara let her hips sway to the loud Euro-pop dance music.
Watching the mass of swaying and gyrating dancers, Barbara was looking for someone she would enjoy for an evening of dancing and maybe fun back at the hotel. Several women attracted her attention. She thought about going over and trying to strike up conversations with them, but the loud grinding music would make that almost impossible, better to just wait to finish her drink. Let the liquor loosen her up and her dancing do the talking.
Barbara didn’t have to wait long. She was almost done with her drink when a young woman slipped up next to her without a word, grabbed her hand and led her out to the dance floor.
She was a striking redhead with a light coat of freckles on face. Her dress looked almost like it had been picked to match Barbara’s. It was a sequined blue mini dress that draped in sparkling fringe that almost perfectly matched Barbara’s purple.
Relaxed from her drink and enjoying the light buzz it produced, Barbara let herself loose on the dance floor. Her new friend was surprisingly accomplished as a dancer, Barbara looked her up and down. She was a little taller than Barbara and a couple of years her junior. Her long red hair bounced along with the music as if it was all part of the same choreography.
As the music flowed from one song to the next the bright smile of the redhead never faltered and would switch from one dance to the next. Barbara, who had an extensive dance background, struggled to keep pace as the young woman went from the Frug to the Mashed Potato, The Twist, The Pony and The Shake.
Barbara was getting lost in the pretty face and throbbing music, was losing track of how many different songs and styles her friend had gone through. She was intent on keeping pace and on the few occasions a dance came up that she didn’t know, she faked it with enthusiasm, mimicking her dance partner.
The music cooled into a slow dance just about the time Barbara was feeling the need for a break. She was smitten by her dance partner, but didn’t want to take a chance on losing her amidst the throng of dancing bodies.
Barbara instinctively wrapped her hand around the girl’s waist and pulled her in. The redhead immediately reciprocated, putting her arms around Barbara’s sweaty body and leaning her head against Barbara’s shoulder.
Feeling the warm sweat of her dance partner and the smell of her perfume, Barbara closed her eyes and swayed with the music.
“I’m Barbara,” She said into Red’s ear.
“Hello Barbara” the girl said and planted a kiss on her lips. Before Barbara could reciprocate the girl returned her head to Barbara’s sweaty shoulder. The two swayed around the dance floor Barbara was intoxicated by the confidence of her new friend.
When the slow dance ended, there was a momentary pause in the music and instead of waiting for the next song, Red took Barbara by the hand and led her off the dance floor.
Barbara spotted an empty corner booth and started leading the way over to it.
As they arrived at the booth, Red leaned in and asked “what are you drinking?”
“Tequila sunrise,” Barbara shouted over the driving music. Red let go of her hand and disappeared towards the bar. Barbara slid into the small booth, pleasantly surprised that it was actually free.
Barbara looked back towards the bar, but Red was already out of sight.
“Well, as I live and breathe… Barbara Gordon!” Three women crowded into the booth next to Barbara.
The Blond who was talking came in on one side and her two companions slipped in on the other.
“Lady Prudence Ffogg?” Barbara tried to hide her panic at her recognition.
“I had heard that you were coming to Londinium, but I had no idea that I would run into you..” Prudence hadn’t changed hardly at all since Barbara had last seen her at trial more than two years ago.
“I heard you were out of prison. How was your time at Slutmoor?”
“It was okay, Not the Savoy, but I made a few friends…” Prudence nodded at her two companions. “It was a little dull after Aunt Penelope escaped, but I already knew I was getting out, so why bother?”
"It' s awfully loud in here. Why don’t we go somewhere we can talk more comfortably?” Prudence gave Barbara the same confident smile she had at Ffogg Place.
“No, that’s okay, I have to be up in the morning…” Barbara was wondering if Red had anything to do with Prudence’s sudden appearance.
“Oh, come now, we’ll have a drink and talk about ol’ times…” Prudence’s hand slipped under the table and the entire booth suddenly rotated ninety degrees. Barbara, Prudence and the two companions were suddenly in the backroom of the club. Cases of beer were stacked along the wall along with cleaning supplies and broken chairs. The noise of the club was now just a muffled throb coming through the wall.
“That’s better. Would you like something to drink, Barbara? All that dancing must have you parched.” Prudence waved to one of the hostesses who was sitting at a lunch table. “Could you fetch Miss Gordon a cold beer? Unopened.” She smiled at Barbara, “I wouldn’t trust me either.”
“So, how did you get released from prison after only eighteen months? I heard they were going to put you away for a lot longer for trying to kill Robin.” Barbara didn’t like this game, but she knew Prudence didn’t know she was Batgirl. She would play along as long as necessary.
“Well, the whole killer bee thing was not taken very seriously. African killer bees just won’t thrive in Londinium, just too cold.” The hostess put the beer on the table along with an opener, a frosted glass and mixed drinks for Prudence and her two compatriots. “Thanks love, be off with you.”
“I know you yanks like your beer cold. Anyway, you probably heard that the Boy Wonder was getting his dick sucked every which way but Sunday while we had him in the Dormitory." Prudence opened the beer for Barbara and slid it in front of her. “Don’t worry Miss Gordon, I wouldn’t think of poisoning your beer…”
“A little dick sucking at private school isn’t enough to destroy a young gent’s reputation.”
Barbara took a tentative draft of the beer. It was cold and she was thirsty and whatever Lady Prudence was planning, it was out of Barbara’s control, at least for the moment.
“No, no the boy in tights made a much bigger faux pas…” Prudence tasted her drink and smiled with satisfaction that it met her approval.
“What was that then?” Barbara took another draft of her beer.
“Well there are things that a proper English lady just would never do….” She took another sip of her drink?”
“Which is?”
“Anal, good girls just don’t do anal. That’s the type of thing that is fine amongst men at sea and boys at school or prison. But, buggery is just not what a lady does outside of marriage. Once the prosecutors found out about that, Robin’s testimony was just about worthless. Besides, he wasn’t very good at it…” Prudence gave a nod to Barbara. “Bad anal was just a bridge too far. I had no sympathy for the lad.”
“So really, the Crown had very little on me other than Lady Easterland’s Easter Eggs and Her Majesty's Royal Snuff Boxes. I was young and impressionable and the Court didn’t want to ruin my chances for marriage within my station, so it was eighteen months in Slutmoor.”
“But, why all of this?” Barbara was trying to figure out why Prudence had snatched her into the backroom of a discotheque.
“You came into my ancestral home and lied to me and my family about why you were there and helped put us in prison… Of course I don’t really hold it against you. Lying and duplicity are really character traits I do admire in a girl… I was after all trying to kill Batgirl so I could frame my uncle for her rape murder, so I really do think you are wonderful… And under other circumstances, I do think we could even be more than friends.” She put her hand gently on Barbara’s
“But, I am sure that under these circumstances, I really must kill you…” Barbara tried to pull her hand away, but it barely moved. “I told the truth about the beer, but I never said I wouldn’t poison the glass.”
Lady Prudence stood up and with the help of her two associates, stood Barbara up, as well.
“It was frosted with a small amount of Lord Ffogg’s Paralyzing fog.”
There was already a line out the door of the club and Barbara debated if the place was too crowded. Looking at the line of women waiting to get in, there was not a man among them, not even the usual gay wingman.
Inside the club, Barbara found a cavernous dance floor with a bar along the back and small crowded tables and booths packed with women eager to dance and mingle.
Barbara checked in her wool coat and held tight her clutch as she made her way to the bar. She ordered a tequila sunrise and moving to the edge of the dance floor, Barbara let her hips sway to the loud Euro-pop dance music.
Watching the mass of swaying and gyrating dancers, Barbara was looking for someone she would enjoy for an evening of dancing and maybe fun back at the hotel. Several women attracted her attention. She thought about going over and trying to strike up conversations with them, but the loud grinding music would make that almost impossible, better to just wait to finish her drink. Let the liquor loosen her up and her dancing do the talking.
Barbara didn’t have to wait long. She was almost done with her drink when a young woman slipped up next to her without a word, grabbed her hand and led her out to the dance floor.
She was a striking redhead with a light coat of freckles on face. Her dress looked almost like it had been picked to match Barbara’s. It was a sequined blue mini dress that draped in sparkling fringe that almost perfectly matched Barbara’s purple.
Relaxed from her drink and enjoying the light buzz it produced, Barbara let herself loose on the dance floor. Her new friend was surprisingly accomplished as a dancer, Barbara looked her up and down. She was a little taller than Barbara and a couple of years her junior. Her long red hair bounced along with the music as if it was all part of the same choreography.
As the music flowed from one song to the next the bright smile of the redhead never faltered and would switch from one dance to the next. Barbara, who had an extensive dance background, struggled to keep pace as the young woman went from the Frug to the Mashed Potato, The Twist, The Pony and The Shake.
Barbara was getting lost in the pretty face and throbbing music, was losing track of how many different songs and styles her friend had gone through. She was intent on keeping pace and on the few occasions a dance came up that she didn’t know, she faked it with enthusiasm, mimicking her dance partner.
The music cooled into a slow dance just about the time Barbara was feeling the need for a break. She was smitten by her dance partner, but didn’t want to take a chance on losing her amidst the throng of dancing bodies.
Barbara instinctively wrapped her hand around the girl’s waist and pulled her in. The redhead immediately reciprocated, putting her arms around Barbara’s sweaty body and leaning her head against Barbara’s shoulder.
Feeling the warm sweat of her dance partner and the smell of her perfume, Barbara closed her eyes and swayed with the music.
“I’m Barbara,” She said into Red’s ear.
“Hello Barbara” the girl said and planted a kiss on her lips. Before Barbara could reciprocate the girl returned her head to Barbara’s sweaty shoulder. The two swayed around the dance floor Barbara was intoxicated by the confidence of her new friend.
When the slow dance ended, there was a momentary pause in the music and instead of waiting for the next song, Red took Barbara by the hand and led her off the dance floor.
Barbara spotted an empty corner booth and started leading the way over to it.
As they arrived at the booth, Red leaned in and asked “what are you drinking?”
“Tequila sunrise,” Barbara shouted over the driving music. Red let go of her hand and disappeared towards the bar. Barbara slid into the small booth, pleasantly surprised that it was actually free.
Barbara looked back towards the bar, but Red was already out of sight.
“Well, as I live and breathe… Barbara Gordon!” Three women crowded into the booth next to Barbara.
The Blond who was talking came in on one side and her two companions slipped in on the other.
“Lady Prudence Ffogg?” Barbara tried to hide her panic at her recognition.
“I had heard that you were coming to Londinium, but I had no idea that I would run into you..” Prudence hadn’t changed hardly at all since Barbara had last seen her at trial more than two years ago.
“I heard you were out of prison. How was your time at Slutmoor?”
“It was okay, Not the Savoy, but I made a few friends…” Prudence nodded at her two companions. “It was a little dull after Aunt Penelope escaped, but I already knew I was getting out, so why bother?”
"It' s awfully loud in here. Why don’t we go somewhere we can talk more comfortably?” Prudence gave Barbara the same confident smile she had at Ffogg Place.
“No, that’s okay, I have to be up in the morning…” Barbara was wondering if Red had anything to do with Prudence’s sudden appearance.
“Oh, come now, we’ll have a drink and talk about ol’ times…” Prudence’s hand slipped under the table and the entire booth suddenly rotated ninety degrees. Barbara, Prudence and the two companions were suddenly in the backroom of the club. Cases of beer were stacked along the wall along with cleaning supplies and broken chairs. The noise of the club was now just a muffled throb coming through the wall.
“That’s better. Would you like something to drink, Barbara? All that dancing must have you parched.” Prudence waved to one of the hostesses who was sitting at a lunch table. “Could you fetch Miss Gordon a cold beer? Unopened.” She smiled at Barbara, “I wouldn’t trust me either.”
“So, how did you get released from prison after only eighteen months? I heard they were going to put you away for a lot longer for trying to kill Robin.” Barbara didn’t like this game, but she knew Prudence didn’t know she was Batgirl. She would play along as long as necessary.
“Well, the whole killer bee thing was not taken very seriously. African killer bees just won’t thrive in Londinium, just too cold.” The hostess put the beer on the table along with an opener, a frosted glass and mixed drinks for Prudence and her two compatriots. “Thanks love, be off with you.”
“I know you yanks like your beer cold. Anyway, you probably heard that the Boy Wonder was getting his dick sucked every which way but Sunday while we had him in the Dormitory." Prudence opened the beer for Barbara and slid it in front of her. “Don’t worry Miss Gordon, I wouldn’t think of poisoning your beer…”
“A little dick sucking at private school isn’t enough to destroy a young gent’s reputation.”
Barbara took a tentative draft of the beer. It was cold and she was thirsty and whatever Lady Prudence was planning, it was out of Barbara’s control, at least for the moment.
“No, no the boy in tights made a much bigger faux pas…” Prudence tasted her drink and smiled with satisfaction that it met her approval.
“What was that then?” Barbara took another draft of her beer.
“Well there are things that a proper English lady just would never do….” She took another sip of her drink?”
“Which is?”
“Anal, good girls just don’t do anal. That’s the type of thing that is fine amongst men at sea and boys at school or prison. But, buggery is just not what a lady does outside of marriage. Once the prosecutors found out about that, Robin’s testimony was just about worthless. Besides, he wasn’t very good at it…” Prudence gave a nod to Barbara. “Bad anal was just a bridge too far. I had no sympathy for the lad.”
“So really, the Crown had very little on me other than Lady Easterland’s Easter Eggs and Her Majesty's Royal Snuff Boxes. I was young and impressionable and the Court didn’t want to ruin my chances for marriage within my station, so it was eighteen months in Slutmoor.”
“But, why all of this?” Barbara was trying to figure out why Prudence had snatched her into the backroom of a discotheque.
“You came into my ancestral home and lied to me and my family about why you were there and helped put us in prison… Of course I don’t really hold it against you. Lying and duplicity are really character traits I do admire in a girl… I was after all trying to kill Batgirl so I could frame my uncle for her rape murder, so I really do think you are wonderful… And under other circumstances, I do think we could even be more than friends.” She put her hand gently on Barbara’s
“But, I am sure that under these circumstances, I really must kill you…” Barbara tried to pull her hand away, but it barely moved. “I told the truth about the beer, but I never said I wouldn’t poison the glass.”
Lady Prudence stood up and with the help of her two associates, stood Barbara up, as well.
“It was frosted with a small amount of Lord Ffogg’s Paralyzing fog.”
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Just for fun I added a poll on DeviantArt about about which of my Batgirl stories is most popular. While I generally write for myself, I am not beyond providing a bit of fan service when trying to think of story ideas...https://www.deviantart.com/sneakly/poll ... te-8745370
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Part 3
Barbara could feel herself being lifted up from the booth and marched up a flight of stairs towards the roof of the Discotheque. It was like she was hypnotized. While she could feel herself being led and was aware of what was happening, she was unable to resist it.
Lady Prudence led the girls and their captive up the stairs to the roof, one girl with a firm grip on each of Barbara’s arms. It was disturbingly similar to the waking sleep she had endured as Batgirl after her breaking into the Cricket Pavillion of Ffogg Place.
Once they reached the roof Prudence personally saw to the ropes being applied to Barbara. She crossed Barbara’s ankles and took a piece of rope and doubled it over feeding the double ends of the rope through the loop in the middle and then neatly wrapping them around her ankles then between them, over and under and finished with a neat and tight square knot.
No longer able to run if Barbara regained her wits, Prudence proceeded to do a similar tie on her bare wrists. Despite having her effectively incapacitated, Prudence continued to add ropes to her victim. Ropes tied her elbows together and then held them to her back with ropes that went over and under her breasts. An additional set of ropes held Barbara’s legs together just above the knees.
The paralyzing fog that Barbara had consumed was already wearing off as Prudence finished the last few turns of rope and was cinching the final knot as Barbara was regaining her voice.
“Prudence, you are not going to be able to get away with this, dozens of people saw me coming into the club and you sitting down with me.” Barbara was desperately testing the bonds. Prudence had gotten no resistance as she applied the ropes and Barbara had been unable to use the techniques she knew to ensure the ropes were escapable.
“Oh, dear…. Barbara you are so right…. What shall Ido? I suppose I must let you go…” Her two accomplices were still holding Barbara upright while Prudence leaned into her hands now groping Barbara aggressively. Prudence was kissing her neck as her hand slipped under the crop top of Barbara’s sequined out fit. Touching her breasts and her erect nipples.
“I can’t possibly let you go, nor do I want to. Are you one of those independent women I’ve heard about over in America? Foregoing brassieres and such?” Just as Prudence was pulling up the small top of Barbara’s outfit, exposing her breasts, Prudence greeted another one of her accomplices.
“Oh perfect, and the hair is a fantastic match!” Barbara turned to look and to see the new woman. She had dark hair similar to Barbara’s. More importantly, she was wearing Barbara’s coat and carrying her clutch purse.
“You see Barbara, a dozen witnesses will see you walking out of the “Let’s Go Lesbo,” and wandering back to your home drunk. Every camera and wino from here to there will see going along the road to the river, never to be seen again.” She opened up the clutch purse and took Barbara’s cash and traveller’s checks out and gave them to the imposter. “Buy yourself something nice in the morning. And ask Luisa to bring up one of the ‘teabags’ on your way out”
The woman laughed and headed back to the door.
“You see Miss Gordon, No one is going to miss you. Not for a while at least. I am sure Ireland Yard will do a very complete investigation of your disappearance.” Prudence stroked the side of Barbara’s face. “Unfortunately, you will be counted as one of many missing victims of the mean streets of Londinium’s Redchapel neighborhood.”
“What do you mean?” Barbara was more interested in keeping Prudence talking than actually hearing the answer.
“With Lord Ffogg, Aunt Penelope and I all locked up, it created a wee bit of a power vacuum in the Londinium underworld. A couple of girl gangs have moved into my family's ancestral turf and I have been forced to tidy it up since being released.” Prudence leaned in and smelled Barbara’s scent, her hand tracing down Barbara’s body to her the panties under the skirt.
“I created a fictitious serial killer to explain away the missing women. He’s not really fictitious, because it’s me but the coppers are looking for a man in his late forties with a limp…” She stepped away from Barbara and sniffed the finger and rubbed Barbara’s juices between her fingers. “It doesn’t sound much like me, does it?”
“What, that you’re a serial killer? Spot on!” Barbara gave a jerk as if she was going to kick the snot out of Prudence, but it was just bluster. She was far too well restrained…
Prudence gave a delighted laugh. “Enough of this chit-chat… Gag her” One of the two girls shoved a wad of cloth into her mouth and while the other wedged it in with a purple scarf that she double knotted behind her head. As they cinched the cloth tight, Babara wondered if the color of the gag was coincidental or a choice that Prudence had consciously made.
Well, Barbara, I guess this is the moment where I explain how you are going to disappear forever and never be heard from ever again.” Prudence stroked the Side of Barbara’s face. “And please, do put up a struggle, I always prefer a good show. And you are quite lovely….”
“As you probably noticed, we are on the same roof where the famous Tipton Tea Time advertisement is located. “‘Tea loved to the final drop!’ Ghastly cheap tea. The preferred tea of British alcoholics far and wide…. But the sign with its’ cooking sherry-fueled antics is too famous to ever come down.”
“Wha’ ‘oes ‘at have oo o’ wit’ ‘e?” Barbara half demanded through her gag.
“Everrything. I would have very much loved invite you home to Ffogg Place, I have some delicious toys to show you, but, as you pointed out. Getting you out of the club is problematic.” Prudence stroked the front of Barbara’s skirt, pressing her fingers against her sex.
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t make it interesting.” The three women lifted the bound and gagged librarian and started carrying her to the giant sign. “Normally they only run the sign during the day when tourists are about. It is frightfully expensive to run if no one is awake to see it. The entire mechanism is run by the same steam plant that heats the building. Water is boiled in the basement and the resulting steam is used to run the animatronics and the scalding hot hot water is recondensed into the ‘tea’ that pours into the cup. When the cup is completely filled, it tips over the edge and pours its contents into the river below.” The three women hefted the struggling Barbara into the giant, chipped cup. The mechanism rocked back and forth briefly as Barbara wriggled futilely against the ropes.
“And that includes you, Miss Gordon. 50 feet into the briny deep… and with the help of this,” her two assistants struggled to heft the giant weight of concrete over the rim of the cup. “I like to call this a Tipton Teabagging.”
The weight was a flat, rectangular block that looked like a giant teabag. “This will pull you down and anchor your body most permanently in the deep mud of the Thames. At the narrow end was a steel eye-bolt with a ropes cow hitched to it. Once it was in the bowl of the cup, Lady Prudence leaned in, her blond hair spilling from her efficient English tweed vest as she attached it to Barbara’s ankles.
“When the boiler down in the basement gets hot enough, you’ll see the steam rising from the spout and within a few minutes of that the teapot will deposit its spill of boiling hot water on you. I doubt that will do you in proper… but by the fourth pour you will likely have drowned and then the cup will dump whatever is left of you into the Thames four stories below… and drag your body deep into the river mud, never to be seen again…”
Barbara grunted and bucked as hard as she could while Lady Prudence tied the cement anchor to her ankles. The cup was spacious by cup standards, but Barbara was curled up in the bottom with her knees to her chest and her arms behind. With the twenty kilo block of cement, she had hardly any space to move.
Lady Prudence stood on the rim of the cup and looked down at her struggling and grunting victim. There was almost no room in the enamelled bowl. Barbara wasn’t going to even be able to sit up, much less keep her head about water. Once the system started to percolate.
“It was lovely catching up, Barbara. I hope you don't mind if we take our leave? Watching you drown would be most enjoyable, but we have an appointment we shan’t want to miss…” Prudence tossed Barbara’s almost empty clutch purse into the cup. “I expect this will be found in a day or two in the river. Say ‘hello’ to the others when you get there…”
IS IT TEATIME FOR BARBARA?
IS LADY PRUDENCE GOING TO TEABAG HER OUT OF EXISTENCE?
FIND OUT IN THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE
SAME TEA TIME, SAME TEA CHANNEL
Barbara could feel herself being lifted up from the booth and marched up a flight of stairs towards the roof of the Discotheque. It was like she was hypnotized. While she could feel herself being led and was aware of what was happening, she was unable to resist it.
Lady Prudence led the girls and their captive up the stairs to the roof, one girl with a firm grip on each of Barbara’s arms. It was disturbingly similar to the waking sleep she had endured as Batgirl after her breaking into the Cricket Pavillion of Ffogg Place.
Once they reached the roof Prudence personally saw to the ropes being applied to Barbara. She crossed Barbara’s ankles and took a piece of rope and doubled it over feeding the double ends of the rope through the loop in the middle and then neatly wrapping them around her ankles then between them, over and under and finished with a neat and tight square knot.
No longer able to run if Barbara regained her wits, Prudence proceeded to do a similar tie on her bare wrists. Despite having her effectively incapacitated, Prudence continued to add ropes to her victim. Ropes tied her elbows together and then held them to her back with ropes that went over and under her breasts. An additional set of ropes held Barbara’s legs together just above the knees.
The paralyzing fog that Barbara had consumed was already wearing off as Prudence finished the last few turns of rope and was cinching the final knot as Barbara was regaining her voice.
“Prudence, you are not going to be able to get away with this, dozens of people saw me coming into the club and you sitting down with me.” Barbara was desperately testing the bonds. Prudence had gotten no resistance as she applied the ropes and Barbara had been unable to use the techniques she knew to ensure the ropes were escapable.
“Oh, dear…. Barbara you are so right…. What shall Ido? I suppose I must let you go…” Her two accomplices were still holding Barbara upright while Prudence leaned into her hands now groping Barbara aggressively. Prudence was kissing her neck as her hand slipped under the crop top of Barbara’s sequined out fit. Touching her breasts and her erect nipples.
“I can’t possibly let you go, nor do I want to. Are you one of those independent women I’ve heard about over in America? Foregoing brassieres and such?” Just as Prudence was pulling up the small top of Barbara’s outfit, exposing her breasts, Prudence greeted another one of her accomplices.
“Oh perfect, and the hair is a fantastic match!” Barbara turned to look and to see the new woman. She had dark hair similar to Barbara’s. More importantly, she was wearing Barbara’s coat and carrying her clutch purse.
“You see Barbara, a dozen witnesses will see you walking out of the “Let’s Go Lesbo,” and wandering back to your home drunk. Every camera and wino from here to there will see going along the road to the river, never to be seen again.” She opened up the clutch purse and took Barbara’s cash and traveller’s checks out and gave them to the imposter. “Buy yourself something nice in the morning. And ask Luisa to bring up one of the ‘teabags’ on your way out”
The woman laughed and headed back to the door.
“You see Miss Gordon, No one is going to miss you. Not for a while at least. I am sure Ireland Yard will do a very complete investigation of your disappearance.” Prudence stroked the side of Barbara’s face. “Unfortunately, you will be counted as one of many missing victims of the mean streets of Londinium’s Redchapel neighborhood.”
“What do you mean?” Barbara was more interested in keeping Prudence talking than actually hearing the answer.
“With Lord Ffogg, Aunt Penelope and I all locked up, it created a wee bit of a power vacuum in the Londinium underworld. A couple of girl gangs have moved into my family's ancestral turf and I have been forced to tidy it up since being released.” Prudence leaned in and smelled Barbara’s scent, her hand tracing down Barbara’s body to her the panties under the skirt.
“I created a fictitious serial killer to explain away the missing women. He’s not really fictitious, because it’s me but the coppers are looking for a man in his late forties with a limp…” She stepped away from Barbara and sniffed the finger and rubbed Barbara’s juices between her fingers. “It doesn’t sound much like me, does it?”
“What, that you’re a serial killer? Spot on!” Barbara gave a jerk as if she was going to kick the snot out of Prudence, but it was just bluster. She was far too well restrained…
Prudence gave a delighted laugh. “Enough of this chit-chat… Gag her” One of the two girls shoved a wad of cloth into her mouth and while the other wedged it in with a purple scarf that she double knotted behind her head. As they cinched the cloth tight, Babara wondered if the color of the gag was coincidental or a choice that Prudence had consciously made.
Well, Barbara, I guess this is the moment where I explain how you are going to disappear forever and never be heard from ever again.” Prudence stroked the Side of Barbara’s face. “And please, do put up a struggle, I always prefer a good show. And you are quite lovely….”
“As you probably noticed, we are on the same roof where the famous Tipton Tea Time advertisement is located. “‘Tea loved to the final drop!’ Ghastly cheap tea. The preferred tea of British alcoholics far and wide…. But the sign with its’ cooking sherry-fueled antics is too famous to ever come down.”
“Wha’ ‘oes ‘at have oo o’ wit’ ‘e?” Barbara half demanded through her gag.
“Everrything. I would have very much loved invite you home to Ffogg Place, I have some delicious toys to show you, but, as you pointed out. Getting you out of the club is problematic.” Prudence stroked the front of Barbara’s skirt, pressing her fingers against her sex.
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t make it interesting.” The three women lifted the bound and gagged librarian and started carrying her to the giant sign. “Normally they only run the sign during the day when tourists are about. It is frightfully expensive to run if no one is awake to see it. The entire mechanism is run by the same steam plant that heats the building. Water is boiled in the basement and the resulting steam is used to run the animatronics and the scalding hot hot water is recondensed into the ‘tea’ that pours into the cup. When the cup is completely filled, it tips over the edge and pours its contents into the river below.” The three women hefted the struggling Barbara into the giant, chipped cup. The mechanism rocked back and forth briefly as Barbara wriggled futilely against the ropes.
“And that includes you, Miss Gordon. 50 feet into the briny deep… and with the help of this,” her two assistants struggled to heft the giant weight of concrete over the rim of the cup. “I like to call this a Tipton Teabagging.”
The weight was a flat, rectangular block that looked like a giant teabag. “This will pull you down and anchor your body most permanently in the deep mud of the Thames. At the narrow end was a steel eye-bolt with a ropes cow hitched to it. Once it was in the bowl of the cup, Lady Prudence leaned in, her blond hair spilling from her efficient English tweed vest as she attached it to Barbara’s ankles.
“When the boiler down in the basement gets hot enough, you’ll see the steam rising from the spout and within a few minutes of that the teapot will deposit its spill of boiling hot water on you. I doubt that will do you in proper… but by the fourth pour you will likely have drowned and then the cup will dump whatever is left of you into the Thames four stories below… and drag your body deep into the river mud, never to be seen again…”
Barbara grunted and bucked as hard as she could while Lady Prudence tied the cement anchor to her ankles. The cup was spacious by cup standards, but Barbara was curled up in the bottom with her knees to her chest and her arms behind. With the twenty kilo block of cement, she had hardly any space to move.
Lady Prudence stood on the rim of the cup and looked down at her struggling and grunting victim. There was almost no room in the enamelled bowl. Barbara wasn’t going to even be able to sit up, much less keep her head about water. Once the system started to percolate.
“It was lovely catching up, Barbara. I hope you don't mind if we take our leave? Watching you drown would be most enjoyable, but we have an appointment we shan’t want to miss…” Prudence tossed Barbara’s almost empty clutch purse into the cup. “I expect this will be found in a day or two in the river. Say ‘hello’ to the others when you get there…”
IS IT TEATIME FOR BARBARA?
IS LADY PRUDENCE GOING TO TEABAG HER OUT OF EXISTENCE?
FIND OUT IN THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE
SAME TEA TIME, SAME TEA CHANNEL
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Well Lady Prudence kept there word. Mo poison was involved. Although if she had more time she could have given Barbara some lovely last memories before her end.
Nice version of Catwoman's trap fro Batman and Robin. No acid to help free herself. Oh well. Babs will have a hot time in Londinium tonight
Nice version of Catwoman's trap fro Batman and Robin. No acid to help free herself. Oh well. Babs will have a hot time in Londinium tonight
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Part 4
Barbara lay balled up in the confines of the Tipton Tea Cup and struggled futilely against the ropes that bound her. The cement weight that had been tied to her ankles made the space even more cramped.
When she had been tied up, Barbara was standing up. The ropes had been snug, but efficient. Now that she was forced into a ball, they had become positively paralyzing,
She looked up above her. The spout of the giant teapot was starting to move and as it moved, Barbara could see the first wisps of steam intersecting with the chilled night air.
With her knees pushed to her chest and her arms tied behind her, Barbara had very little range of motion. She chewed on the thick gag. Prudence had a perverse love of the macabre, she had delighted in using her great Grand-ma-ma’s fuck machine on Batgirl with the intent of leaving her body to frame her uncle, Lord Ffogg for Batgirl’s rape-murder and take control of Ffogg Place and the associated criminal enterprises. With her aunt and uncle both in prison, Lady Prudence had accomplished most of those ends.
Now Barbara was a few minutes away from being eliminated by the same sick mind. Even in Gotham, the news had been reporting on the Redchappel ripper. Prudence had been using the serial killings as a cover for her taking control of the Londinium girl gangs that had tried to move in when the Ffoggs had been prosecuted. And now Barbara had been accidentally swept up in it.
If Barbara couldn’t escape, she (and Batgirl) would simply be another footnote in the history of the Londinium underworld, quickly forgotten. Barbara felt her clutch purse laying on top of her. It was emptied of her valuables, just her Gotham driver’s license and her library ID.
At least, that was what Prudence assumed. Barbara had secreted a batgirl utility blade in the frame of the small clutch. To the casual observer, it was just a simple, yet tasteful accessory, but, if she ripped out the stitching on the liner, she had a three inch folding pocket knife that would make quick work of her ropes.
Barbara lifted her head to look at the purse where Prudence had casually thrown it. It had landed on Barbara’s right breast. It might have been a mile away having coffee in Chelsea. The ropes were just too tight. The concrete ”teabag” attached to her ankles made the space even tighter.
Glancing up at the spout of the teapot, she could see steam forming in the cool damp air. Then she felt the cup start its mechanical dance, the teapot starting its comical tipping, ready to cook Barbara alive.
Sucking in a lung full of air, she braced for the scalding water. Barbara closed her eyes, preparing for the worst.
The water splashed down on her and flowed around her. Barbara was relieved that it wasn’ t actually scalding hot. Just moderately tepid. As it splashed down around her it picked up and pushed her clutch bag around the teacup.
When the deluge stopped, Barbara was soaked through with water, and the bottom of the cup was now filled with water. It rose up and covered the left side of her face. And she was now sloshing around and rapidly cooling. The metal structure of the cup quickly leached away what heat came from the water. Barbara looked around for where her clutch purse had gone. She knew it was in the cup, but where it had been pushed was a mystery.
She tried to squirm a little more, only to realize that, while the water had softened the ropes, she was tied as tightly as ever. Lady Prudence had obviously done this before, and worse, she took pride in her sadism. Escape, even for Batgirl would be near impossible.
The only way Barbara had escaped the fuck chair in the dungeon of Ffogg Place was because of its extreme age and her ability to break some of the restraints. Prudence was not making any of those mistakes here. The ropes were fresh, expertly tied and the death trap working to its intended limit.
Barbara didn’t have to wait long for the next phase of her execution. Just as she was giving up on finding her lost clutch, she looked up at the teapot that loomed overhead. Instinctively, she started rapidly filling and exhaling her lungs to be prepared as the system prepared the next dose of water.
Holding her breath and closing her eyes, she braces against the next flood in her would be drowning. This time the water was significantly hotter and it splashed down over head to foot. When she opened her eyes, she found that she had to turn her head and struggled to keep her head out of the water.
Barbara was starting to get an understanding of the cadence of the trap. The pipes that brought the boiling water from the basement were starting out cold, but after a few cycles of heating, would eventually reach the scalding temperatures Prudence promised. The next pour would submerge her completely under water and after the fourth pour, it would dump Barbara, dead or alive, over the side of the building into the water grave below. The cement teabag was streamlined enough that it would pull Barbara feet first into the water, down to the bottom and depositing her deep in the river mud, just as it had Prudence’s other victims.
Prudence’s other victims would probably not even be visible even if the tides drained the river completely.
There wasn’t much time for Barbara to contemplate the simplistic efficacy of Prudence’s trap as Barbara looked up and saw the kettle starting its next tilt. She had started hyperventilating as soon as the water had started filling the cup, held her breath as the water poured down on her, knowing at some point she would be completely submerged.
With her head just barely above the surface, she knew this might be the last breath of her life. She gasped in as deeply as she could, she saw the cascade of water moments before it hit.
The fresh water poured down on her, warming her up, but, as she expected, this time she was unable to make her head break the surface, no matter how she moved. Or struggled.
Thoughts were flicking through her head. Struggling used oxygen. Panic used oxygen. From what she observed from her hotel room, it would take more than a minute for the teapot to fill the cup for the last time and to dump her out into the black waters of the river below.
Barbara fought to remain calm, she knew panic meant death. She closed her eyes and tried to hold still, cleared her mind and waited. And waited. Her lungs were starting to burn, but she held firm. She felt the splash of hot water pouring down on her. She didn’t even try to make it to the surface of the water, she already knew it was a futile waste of energy.
The water sloshed as the cup moved through its mechanical theatrics and came to rest. Barbara's mind stayed focused. Was she certain that it was four pours before the water was cast off the roof or was it five? From her hotel room it was an oddity for tourists. She really couldn’t say she paid that much attention.
The gag had swollen in her mouth and she reflexively bit down, as waited for the machine to run its programmed display. She squeezed the water out and her mind visualized the gears and levers that were working its way along to pour the heated water into the cup, the cup to slosh it around, the eyes on the pot and cup to perform their theatrical magic and finally to tip over and drop her in to the river mud.
As she felt the splash of Hot Tipton tea water splash down on her for the last time, Barbara tensed her knees against the cup and the cement teabag. She pushed for her life, waiting, her lungs screaming for air. Her eyes closed, teeth gritted, muscle tense as the cup did its final mechanical swirl and tipped ninety degrees and the water drained from the cup in a matter of seconds.
Barbara felt the water flow out, pulling her with it and the sensation of the heavy weight trying to follow it into the river. The machine bounced on its side briefly, trying to shake out the last drop of water along with its unwilling cargo.
As the cup returned to its original position, Barbara, exhausted, exhaled her bursting lungs. She was still in the cup for the moment, but she wasn’t any closer to near safety. She looked around inside the cup, but her clutch and the precious knife it contained was nowhere to be seen.
It almost certainly was floating down the river, waiting to be found as proof that Barbara had been taken during a robbery or as another victim of the Redchapel Ripper.
She was just catching her breath as she looked up at the Tipton Tea Pot and saw even more steam rising from it. Barbara was certain the water was going to continue to heat up as with each subsequent pour, eventually delivering the scalding death Lady Prudence had promised. If Barbara survived that long. The first cycle had taken all her strength to avoid being dumped into the river. Now she was shivering in the cold Londinium night, waiting for the next round of mechanized torture.
Despite her exhaustion and cold, Barbara thought briefly why Prudence and her gang hadn't stuck around to watch her execution. The last time Prudence tried to kill Batgirl, Prudence been transfixed watching the fuck machine rape her. She was positively enthralled watching the leather cock repeatedly penetrating her and rubbing out orgasm after orgasm until she almost passed out. She only left when she had other more pressing criminal duties to attend to.
The second round in the bottom of the cup was worse than her first. The water was heating up, and the mechanism was reaching its working potential as it did so. The first dunking felt hot on her cold skin, but the metal of the basin quickly drained away the heat. Barbara pulled at the ropes and tried desperately to slip her hands out. She also felt around for her purse or the knife it contained, but with no luck.
By the next pour, the water crashed down on her and she twisted, holding her breath, knowing that would not get another breath for a while and would also need to brace herself against being poured over the side of the building and into the muddy black waters of the Thames. If she survived the fall, she wouldn’t survive lungs filled with mud.
Looking up through the hot water and waiting for the fatal coupe de gras, Barbara saw a face peering in at her from the edge of the cup. In the dark, she only make out some pale white skin and blurred features.
She saw the fuzzy view of an arm reaching in to grab her. There were hands under her shoulder and pulling her up out of the water.
Barbara’s head broke the surface of the water and she let out her breath and coughed out the water that flowed in around her gag. As she sputtered and hacked, the figure pulled her up over the side of the dancing cup. She might have fallen completely out of the cup if it hadn’t been for the forty pounds of concrete that were tied to her ankles.
“I was wondering where you went off to.” Barbara looked into the smiling blue eyes of her redheaded dance partner. “I thought we were going to head back to your place. And there I was with two drinks and an empty booth. Fortunately for me, I like tequila sunrises.”
Red looked down into the cup to see what was keeping Barbara in it. “That’s not your purse is it?” She reached inside the cup and picked up the knife that had worked its way out of Barbara’s clutch purse and had been laying underneath her the whole time. With a couple of deft strokes, she cut the rope to the anchor and Barbara fell out of the cup and they both tumbled onto the asphalt roof.
Red helped Barbara to a sitting position and started to cut through her gag and seamlessly continued onto the other bonds.
“You do this recreationally?” Red smiled, “You didn’t need to do all this to get my attention… I was all set to go home with you for a righteous clam slam.” Barbara looked back at her. “You know, some lettuce licking… a bit of tribbing, rubbing donuts, an Aussie kiss… I hope you fuck better than you comprehend, otherwise this whole evening was a waste…”
Barbara grabbed Red’s mane of red curls, pulled her in and gave her a hard kiss. Their tongues played together for a moment, but was interrupted as the Tipton Teapot unloaded its final spout of scalding water. The cup danced briefly and then dumped the contents into the river. They could hear the solid splash of the cement teabag hitting the river below.
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“I have some idea of how you can…” Red gave Barbara a smile and a wink.
“How did you find me? I was certain I was a goner.” Barbara gave Red another kiss and put her hand on hers.
“Well, I was finishing your tequila when I heard the building’s pipes start to bang and growl. I had been told by someone ages ago that was how you could know the sign was running. The racket it makes is why there have always been a night club in the building. Its too damn noisy during the day. They don’t usually have the sign running at night.”
“When I heard it, I thought I would have a look-see up close.” Red laughed, “I wished you let me know you were coming up here.”
“I hadn’t planned it… “ Barbara glanced down at the wet mess she had become. “The arch villainess of Ffogg Place, Lady Prudence, grabbed me and was trying to get rid of me for good.”
“Oh, she is a royal cunt, that one.,.” Red stood up and offered a hand up to Barbara. “Never really liked her. But she runs a pretty cool dance bar… How about we blow this joint and head back to your place?” Red held on to Barbara’s Hand even after she was standing.
“That sounds lovely, but we can’t go back down through the disco. Prudence's goon squad thinks that I am at the bottom of the river.” Barbara looked over the edge of the building. Three stories never sounds that high, but it always looks intimidating. “They can’t see me, but you can go back down and I will meet you over there.” She pointed to a corner shop a block away.
“Well how are you going to get down?” Red was looking over the edge, too.
“I know the river has to be pretty deep here, because Prudence said they’ve been dumping bodies with the Tipton Tea Sign… I’m going to jump and then swim down river until I find a ladder or a dock.”
“You’re going to jump? I’m doing that… Sound’s much more fun…” She grabbed Barbara’s hand and stood next to her. “I really like you. You seem fun. Oh, and I’m Pepper.”
Barbara looked at they stepped to the edge. “Pepper?”
“Peppermint Paddy, me Mum’ and Da’ were good for a bit of a laugh. I’m the fifth of six. After the first three, they had used up all the usual Names like Ryan, Conor and Liam, they decided to have a laugh. I did better than my brother, they named him Bó.”
“What’s wrong with Bó?”
“Bó is Irish for cow… They named him Cow Paddy…” Pepper looked down at the water. “Look’s cold.”
“I’m Barbara. It probably is, are you sure you want to jump? You can just walk out the front door.”
“Na, I’m good, this’ll make a good story when I go home for Easter…” Pepper squeezed her hand.
Barabra leapt forward with Pepper following her off the ledge. Pepper let out a loud “whoop” as they headed for the river below. Barbara didn’t say anything, she knew they were trying to escape a gang of killers and she didn’t know for certain that the river was deep enough or that there wasn’t an old barge sunk where they were going to land.
Both girls hit the water simultaneously. Pepper surfaced after Barbara.
“Fuck yeah! I like hanging around with you!” The two swam down river until they found a dock that had a ladder they could climb out on.
Barbara climbed onto the dock, both girls were shivering in the cold as they made their way back to Barbara’s hotel shivering from the cold.
The night clerk looked up from his magazine at the two wet, quivering women as Barbara asked for her room key. “Looks like you two are having quite the night on the town.” He slid the Key over to her and went back to his reading without another look.
Barbara lay balled up in the confines of the Tipton Tea Cup and struggled futilely against the ropes that bound her. The cement weight that had been tied to her ankles made the space even more cramped.
When she had been tied up, Barbara was standing up. The ropes had been snug, but efficient. Now that she was forced into a ball, they had become positively paralyzing,
She looked up above her. The spout of the giant teapot was starting to move and as it moved, Barbara could see the first wisps of steam intersecting with the chilled night air.
With her knees pushed to her chest and her arms tied behind her, Barbara had very little range of motion. She chewed on the thick gag. Prudence had a perverse love of the macabre, she had delighted in using her great Grand-ma-ma’s fuck machine on Batgirl with the intent of leaving her body to frame her uncle, Lord Ffogg for Batgirl’s rape-murder and take control of Ffogg Place and the associated criminal enterprises. With her aunt and uncle both in prison, Lady Prudence had accomplished most of those ends.
Now Barbara was a few minutes away from being eliminated by the same sick mind. Even in Gotham, the news had been reporting on the Redchappel ripper. Prudence had been using the serial killings as a cover for her taking control of the Londinium girl gangs that had tried to move in when the Ffoggs had been prosecuted. And now Barbara had been accidentally swept up in it.
If Barbara couldn’t escape, she (and Batgirl) would simply be another footnote in the history of the Londinium underworld, quickly forgotten. Barbara felt her clutch purse laying on top of her. It was emptied of her valuables, just her Gotham driver’s license and her library ID.
At least, that was what Prudence assumed. Barbara had secreted a batgirl utility blade in the frame of the small clutch. To the casual observer, it was just a simple, yet tasteful accessory, but, if she ripped out the stitching on the liner, she had a three inch folding pocket knife that would make quick work of her ropes.
Barbara lifted her head to look at the purse where Prudence had casually thrown it. It had landed on Barbara’s right breast. It might have been a mile away having coffee in Chelsea. The ropes were just too tight. The concrete ”teabag” attached to her ankles made the space even tighter.
Glancing up at the spout of the teapot, she could see steam forming in the cool damp air. Then she felt the cup start its mechanical dance, the teapot starting its comical tipping, ready to cook Barbara alive.
Sucking in a lung full of air, she braced for the scalding water. Barbara closed her eyes, preparing for the worst.
The water splashed down on her and flowed around her. Barbara was relieved that it wasn’ t actually scalding hot. Just moderately tepid. As it splashed down around her it picked up and pushed her clutch bag around the teacup.
When the deluge stopped, Barbara was soaked through with water, and the bottom of the cup was now filled with water. It rose up and covered the left side of her face. And she was now sloshing around and rapidly cooling. The metal structure of the cup quickly leached away what heat came from the water. Barbara looked around for where her clutch purse had gone. She knew it was in the cup, but where it had been pushed was a mystery.
She tried to squirm a little more, only to realize that, while the water had softened the ropes, she was tied as tightly as ever. Lady Prudence had obviously done this before, and worse, she took pride in her sadism. Escape, even for Batgirl would be near impossible.
The only way Barbara had escaped the fuck chair in the dungeon of Ffogg Place was because of its extreme age and her ability to break some of the restraints. Prudence was not making any of those mistakes here. The ropes were fresh, expertly tied and the death trap working to its intended limit.
Barbara didn’t have to wait long for the next phase of her execution. Just as she was giving up on finding her lost clutch, she looked up at the teapot that loomed overhead. Instinctively, she started rapidly filling and exhaling her lungs to be prepared as the system prepared the next dose of water.
Holding her breath and closing her eyes, she braces against the next flood in her would be drowning. This time the water was significantly hotter and it splashed down over head to foot. When she opened her eyes, she found that she had to turn her head and struggled to keep her head out of the water.
Barbara was starting to get an understanding of the cadence of the trap. The pipes that brought the boiling water from the basement were starting out cold, but after a few cycles of heating, would eventually reach the scalding temperatures Prudence promised. The next pour would submerge her completely under water and after the fourth pour, it would dump Barbara, dead or alive, over the side of the building into the water grave below. The cement teabag was streamlined enough that it would pull Barbara feet first into the water, down to the bottom and depositing her deep in the river mud, just as it had Prudence’s other victims.
Prudence’s other victims would probably not even be visible even if the tides drained the river completely.
There wasn’t much time for Barbara to contemplate the simplistic efficacy of Prudence’s trap as Barbara looked up and saw the kettle starting its next tilt. She had started hyperventilating as soon as the water had started filling the cup, held her breath as the water poured down on her, knowing at some point she would be completely submerged.
With her head just barely above the surface, she knew this might be the last breath of her life. She gasped in as deeply as she could, she saw the cascade of water moments before it hit.
The fresh water poured down on her, warming her up, but, as she expected, this time she was unable to make her head break the surface, no matter how she moved. Or struggled.
Thoughts were flicking through her head. Struggling used oxygen. Panic used oxygen. From what she observed from her hotel room, it would take more than a minute for the teapot to fill the cup for the last time and to dump her out into the black waters of the river below.
Barbara fought to remain calm, she knew panic meant death. She closed her eyes and tried to hold still, cleared her mind and waited. And waited. Her lungs were starting to burn, but she held firm. She felt the splash of hot water pouring down on her. She didn’t even try to make it to the surface of the water, she already knew it was a futile waste of energy.
The water sloshed as the cup moved through its mechanical theatrics and came to rest. Barbara's mind stayed focused. Was she certain that it was four pours before the water was cast off the roof or was it five? From her hotel room it was an oddity for tourists. She really couldn’t say she paid that much attention.
The gag had swollen in her mouth and she reflexively bit down, as waited for the machine to run its programmed display. She squeezed the water out and her mind visualized the gears and levers that were working its way along to pour the heated water into the cup, the cup to slosh it around, the eyes on the pot and cup to perform their theatrical magic and finally to tip over and drop her in to the river mud.
As she felt the splash of Hot Tipton tea water splash down on her for the last time, Barbara tensed her knees against the cup and the cement teabag. She pushed for her life, waiting, her lungs screaming for air. Her eyes closed, teeth gritted, muscle tense as the cup did its final mechanical swirl and tipped ninety degrees and the water drained from the cup in a matter of seconds.
Barbara felt the water flow out, pulling her with it and the sensation of the heavy weight trying to follow it into the river. The machine bounced on its side briefly, trying to shake out the last drop of water along with its unwilling cargo.
As the cup returned to its original position, Barbara, exhausted, exhaled her bursting lungs. She was still in the cup for the moment, but she wasn’t any closer to near safety. She looked around inside the cup, but her clutch and the precious knife it contained was nowhere to be seen.
It almost certainly was floating down the river, waiting to be found as proof that Barbara had been taken during a robbery or as another victim of the Redchapel Ripper.
She was just catching her breath as she looked up at the Tipton Tea Pot and saw even more steam rising from it. Barbara was certain the water was going to continue to heat up as with each subsequent pour, eventually delivering the scalding death Lady Prudence had promised. If Barbara survived that long. The first cycle had taken all her strength to avoid being dumped into the river. Now she was shivering in the cold Londinium night, waiting for the next round of mechanized torture.
Despite her exhaustion and cold, Barbara thought briefly why Prudence and her gang hadn't stuck around to watch her execution. The last time Prudence tried to kill Batgirl, Prudence been transfixed watching the fuck machine rape her. She was positively enthralled watching the leather cock repeatedly penetrating her and rubbing out orgasm after orgasm until she almost passed out. She only left when she had other more pressing criminal duties to attend to.
The second round in the bottom of the cup was worse than her first. The water was heating up, and the mechanism was reaching its working potential as it did so. The first dunking felt hot on her cold skin, but the metal of the basin quickly drained away the heat. Barbara pulled at the ropes and tried desperately to slip her hands out. She also felt around for her purse or the knife it contained, but with no luck.
By the next pour, the water crashed down on her and she twisted, holding her breath, knowing that would not get another breath for a while and would also need to brace herself against being poured over the side of the building and into the muddy black waters of the Thames. If she survived the fall, she wouldn’t survive lungs filled with mud.
Looking up through the hot water and waiting for the fatal coupe de gras, Barbara saw a face peering in at her from the edge of the cup. In the dark, she only make out some pale white skin and blurred features.
She saw the fuzzy view of an arm reaching in to grab her. There were hands under her shoulder and pulling her up out of the water.
Barbara’s head broke the surface of the water and she let out her breath and coughed out the water that flowed in around her gag. As she sputtered and hacked, the figure pulled her up over the side of the dancing cup. She might have fallen completely out of the cup if it hadn’t been for the forty pounds of concrete that were tied to her ankles.
“I was wondering where you went off to.” Barbara looked into the smiling blue eyes of her redheaded dance partner. “I thought we were going to head back to your place. And there I was with two drinks and an empty booth. Fortunately for me, I like tequila sunrises.”
Red looked down into the cup to see what was keeping Barbara in it. “That’s not your purse is it?” She reached inside the cup and picked up the knife that had worked its way out of Barbara’s clutch purse and had been laying underneath her the whole time. With a couple of deft strokes, she cut the rope to the anchor and Barbara fell out of the cup and they both tumbled onto the asphalt roof.
Red helped Barbara to a sitting position and started to cut through her gag and seamlessly continued onto the other bonds.
“You do this recreationally?” Red smiled, “You didn’t need to do all this to get my attention… I was all set to go home with you for a righteous clam slam.” Barbara looked back at her. “You know, some lettuce licking… a bit of tribbing, rubbing donuts, an Aussie kiss… I hope you fuck better than you comprehend, otherwise this whole evening was a waste…”
Barbara grabbed Red’s mane of red curls, pulled her in and gave her a hard kiss. Their tongues played together for a moment, but was interrupted as the Tipton Teapot unloaded its final spout of scalding water. The cup danced briefly and then dumped the contents into the river. They could hear the solid splash of the cement teabag hitting the river below.
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“I have some idea of how you can…” Red gave Barbara a smile and a wink.
“How did you find me? I was certain I was a goner.” Barbara gave Red another kiss and put her hand on hers.
“Well, I was finishing your tequila when I heard the building’s pipes start to bang and growl. I had been told by someone ages ago that was how you could know the sign was running. The racket it makes is why there have always been a night club in the building. Its too damn noisy during the day. They don’t usually have the sign running at night.”
“When I heard it, I thought I would have a look-see up close.” Red laughed, “I wished you let me know you were coming up here.”
“I hadn’t planned it… “ Barbara glanced down at the wet mess she had become. “The arch villainess of Ffogg Place, Lady Prudence, grabbed me and was trying to get rid of me for good.”
“Oh, she is a royal cunt, that one.,.” Red stood up and offered a hand up to Barbara. “Never really liked her. But she runs a pretty cool dance bar… How about we blow this joint and head back to your place?” Red held on to Barbara’s Hand even after she was standing.
“That sounds lovely, but we can’t go back down through the disco. Prudence's goon squad thinks that I am at the bottom of the river.” Barbara looked over the edge of the building. Three stories never sounds that high, but it always looks intimidating. “They can’t see me, but you can go back down and I will meet you over there.” She pointed to a corner shop a block away.
“Well how are you going to get down?” Red was looking over the edge, too.
“I know the river has to be pretty deep here, because Prudence said they’ve been dumping bodies with the Tipton Tea Sign… I’m going to jump and then swim down river until I find a ladder or a dock.”
“You’re going to jump? I’m doing that… Sound’s much more fun…” She grabbed Barbara’s hand and stood next to her. “I really like you. You seem fun. Oh, and I’m Pepper.”
Barbara looked at they stepped to the edge. “Pepper?”
“Peppermint Paddy, me Mum’ and Da’ were good for a bit of a laugh. I’m the fifth of six. After the first three, they had used up all the usual Names like Ryan, Conor and Liam, they decided to have a laugh. I did better than my brother, they named him Bó.”
“What’s wrong with Bó?”
“Bó is Irish for cow… They named him Cow Paddy…” Pepper looked down at the water. “Look’s cold.”
“I’m Barbara. It probably is, are you sure you want to jump? You can just walk out the front door.”
“Na, I’m good, this’ll make a good story when I go home for Easter…” Pepper squeezed her hand.
Barabra leapt forward with Pepper following her off the ledge. Pepper let out a loud “whoop” as they headed for the river below. Barbara didn’t say anything, she knew they were trying to escape a gang of killers and she didn’t know for certain that the river was deep enough or that there wasn’t an old barge sunk where they were going to land.
Both girls hit the water simultaneously. Pepper surfaced after Barbara.
“Fuck yeah! I like hanging around with you!” The two swam down river until they found a dock that had a ladder they could climb out on.
Barbara climbed onto the dock, both girls were shivering in the cold as they made their way back to Barbara’s hotel shivering from the cold.
The night clerk looked up from his magazine at the two wet, quivering women as Barbara asked for her room key. “Looks like you two are having quite the night on the town.” He slid the Key over to her and went back to his reading without another look.
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
On my DeviantArts account, I am running a poll to see which of my non-Batgirl stories are most popular. There was also a poll for the most popular Batgirl stories from a few weeks before that. If you would like to participate and leave a comment. go to:
https://www.deviantart.com/sneakly/poll ... es-8748893
and
https://www.deviantart.com/sneakly/poll ... te-8745370
https://www.deviantart.com/sneakly/poll ... es-8748893
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https://www.deviantart.com/sneakly/poll ... te-8745370
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Part 5
Barbara carried the tray of room service breakfast over to the little coffee table. Her silk robe only extended down to her mid-thigh. She looked at Pepper as she poured her a mug of coffee. Pepper was wearing the terry-cloth robe that came with the room.
Her areola peaked out from within the robe and Barbara couldn’t help but notice they matched the red freckles that dotted her face and shoulders as well as the flowing locks of her red hair.
Despite the night of dancing, a freezing river plunge, enthusiastic sex and a mild hangover, she looked surprisingly fresh.
“Oh Barb, are you this much fun all the time?” She draped her naked leg over Barbara’s. It exposed some dainty small patch of Pepper’s short cropped pussy hair. She sipped her coffee and knocked the empties from the minibar over as she created space for the breakfast plate of eggs and bacon.
“Sometimes,” Barbara spread her legs a little bit, giving Pepper a view of her open legs while she raised her plate to trap any escaping bits of food. “But not usually.”
“Aside from looking smashing in a gag, what did you do that got Lady Pru’ so worked up about you?”
“Its a bit of a story… A couple of years ago I visited Londinium with my father, The Police Commissioner of Gotham City, Lady Peasoup invited me to be a guest faculty member at her exclusive finishing school at Ffogg Place.” Barbara continued with her breakfast.
“That seems like a silly idea when they were running a burglary ring.” Pepper was running her calf up and down Barbara’s inner thigh.
“It was and it wasn’t,” Barbara went on, trying not to be distracted. “They assumed they would be able to keep an eye on me and have a hostage if their schemes went south. But, it ended up working against them. I was able to do my own investigation and realized they were hiding much of their loot in the old Cricket Pavillion on the grounds.”
“I provided a lot of the damning testimony at their trials. She also has it out for Batgirl.”
“Why? I read almost nothing about Batgirl in stories about the case.” Pepper started gathering the service dishes back onto the tray.
“Batgirl was there, she was the one that confirmed where the loot was hidden in Ffogg Place. Prudence managed to capture her and decided to frame her uncle for the rape-murder of Batgirl.”
“Oh dear, how was she going to manage that?”
“You can’t breath a word of this, but…” Barbara hadn’t told anyone about what happened in the dungeon of Ffogg Place, yet Pepper had just saved her life and she had been an awfully good fuck. Barbara instincts told her to trust her. “Ffogg Place had a long history as a sexual playground for Londinium’s elites. She had a mechanical sex chair that she strapped Batgirl into. Her plan was to have the machine fuck Batgirl to death and she and the other students would dump her body in Lord Marmaduke’s bedchambers. Then she would blow the whistle on him and Peasoup. Ireland Yard would find the bodies, and some of the loot tying them to the robberies.”
“With Marmaduke and Penelope out of the way, Lady Prudence would get Ffogg Place, the rest of the loot and rid of Batgirl all at the same time.” Barbara was checking on her outfit for the day. She gave Pepper some fresh clothes, so she wouldn’t have to make the walk of shame in her water stained blue minidress.
“Why wasn’t any of this in any of the reporting?” Pepper was putting on one of Barbara’s skirts and blouse. Otherwise she was going full commando. Barbara wondered if her bra-less breasts wouldn’t attract too much notice on the metro.
“Batgirl said she didn’t want the tawdry parts of the affair to come out if they didn’t have too. Marmaduke, Penelope and Prudence were all convicted of the thefts. Marmaduke and Penelope were convicted of the attempted murder of Batman and Robin. Prudence was tried for attempting to kidnap and kill Robin.”
“Why didn’t that work?”
“It turns out Robin wasn’t much of a hostage. His entire captivity involved him getting his dick sucked and pressuring the girls for anal.”
“Oooh, The coppers don’t like buggery… They outlawed it for over four hundred years.”
“Yes and the attempted murder charge went belly up when they couldn’t prove the ‘killer bee’ wasn’t just a regular bee sting.” Barbara laughed. No one was more upset that Prudence only got a slap on the wrist than she was, but this was typical for Batman and Robin.
“What are you going to do about Prudence trying to dump you in the river?” Pepper looked out the window and could see the Tipton Teapot chugging away in the distance.
“I’ll call Chief Inspector Watson and tell him what happened.” Barbara picked up the phone and carried it towards the bathroom. “Prudence said I wasn’t the first one to get ‘teabagged’ as she put it. There must be more evidence either in the club or in the river…” Barbara closed the door to make her call in private.
A few minutes later, Barbara came out of the bathroom. “About what I expected.”
“Well?”
“He invited me to Ireland Yard after tea tomorrow to make a statement.” Barbara sat down next to Pepper.
That’s it?” Pepper put her hand on her knee. “You offer him the Redchappel Ripper and he asks you to stop by tomorrow afternoon?”
“He said he doesn’t want anything to do with more Yank buffoonery after the humiliation of finding out that Robin, whose life was supposedly in dire peril, spent the entire time getting his dick sucked and rear-ending everything in a skirt the entire time… With pictures and two days of testimony from every girl in the school describing it in explicit detail, along with pictures.”
“He’s not interested?”
“He’s meeting with me only because I actually helped get the convictions and because my father is a public figure.” Barbara picked up her bag. “I’ll walk you to the Tube. I have to be at the My library conference.”
As they walked Barbara gazed absently ahead of her. “I’ve been thinking about Prudence….”
“Anything that I should be jealous of?” Pepper smiled and looked at Barbara’s furrowed brow.
“Well, everything I know about her is that she has a strong-sado sexual appetite. Why didn’t she stick around to watch? She went through all the trouble to create an elaborate method of execution, but then she just left…” Barbara stole a glance at Pepper as they walked. She wasn’t going to say it outloud, but why didn’t she sexually assault her? Lady Penelope had included it the training for her Crime School for Girls. She had put Batgirl in the fuck chair to frame Lord Ffogg for murder and the sat and watch repeatedly playing with herself as the machine tried to kill her. She even gave Robin a blow job and let him do anal on her.
“Maybe you aren’t her type?” Pepper gave a sideways glance and seeing the look on Barbara’s face laughed. “Okay. So you’re everyone’s type. I would have fucked you once, maybe twice, if I had you drugged and tied up… You think we could try that tonight? I’m game, you did look good in that gag…”
Barbara laughed, “You bring what you like, as long as it isn’t warm beer. Chief Inspector Watson had said he couldn’t meet until tomorrow, because he was busy. I thought he was just pissed about the Robin thing, but maybe he wasn’t.” Barbara stopped in front of a news stand. She picked up the Londinium Times. The banner headline read “Hunt on for Easterland’s Easter Eggs!”
“Maybe she had some place else to be?” Pepper was reading over her shoulder.
“Maybe?” Barbara paid for the paper and folded it under her arm as they continued down to the Tube station.
Barbara gave Pepper a soft kiss on the mouth before sending her off.
After Barbara left Pepper at the Tube station, She didn’t immediately leave for her conference. Instead, she walked up the street, but not with the intention of catching the next train to her conference….
+++++++++++
Barbara sat on the over stuffed leather library chair, Two stacks of newspaper sat on either side of her. Chief Inspector Watson not willing to give Barbara’s complaint the time of day made much more sense now that she had a chance to read up on the goings on in Londinium.
The Londinium underworld was going through a high visibility crime wave the last few weeks. Barbara’s appearance at the club must have coincided with Lady Prudence and her gang getting ready to steal Lady Easterland’s Jeweled Easter Eggs. It wasn’t until she read more details about the theft that it became clear.
It wouldn’t make sense why Prudence and her gang are stealing something that they had already stolen once. Security would be much tighter than it was the first time… And it would be a huge red flag to Ireland Yard.
It turned out, she was right, the crime wasn’t a repeat of their earlier heist. Marmaduke and Penelope had stolen Faberge Easter Eggs. They had been jewel encrusted and would be extremely hard to fence intact. The “Easter Eggs” in this theft were actually vaginal toys, similar to ben-wa balls, vibrators and dildos, all branded as “Easterland’s Eggs”
An entire tractor trailer of Easterland’s sex toys had been waylaid by bandits and the tabloids couldn't resist the story.
As she dug further, she found an article about the theft of a Roman Spintriae, tokens used in Roman brothels to purchase various sex acts. Each coin would depict a particular sex act on one side and a number on the other, allowing customers to communicate with foreign slaves about the activity being purchased. The collection was valued at almost a hundred thousand pounds. Most interestingly, the shop was owned by none other than the Count of Claremont. Marmaduke and Penelope had previously purloined the Count of Claremont’s coin collection
Seeing a pattern, Barbara started hunting for other crimes that fit the pattern of having had a similar crime committed by the Ffoggs. She quickly found an account of a burglary of Duchess of Desborough’s Londinium townhouse. Undisclosed Items had been stolen from her boudoir while the Duchess was enjoying an evening of theatre.
The pattern of crimes was crystal clear to Barbara, but what could she do about it? Chief Inspector Watson was going to be of no use in this case. He made that clear when she called him earlier. The humiliation his department suffered when it came out the lethal weapon Robin was supposedly faced with was a bee sting and that his entire “captivity”, as he put it, involved him “finding cavities to be filled.” The London press had a field day making up nicknames for him, “The Cavity Search Kid” “Cock Robin” “Throbbin’ Robin”. Watson was not amused.
Barbara reached the next tube station, paid her fare and walked down until she reached the end of the platform. After looking back around to see if she was being watched, she disappeared into the tunnel.
As she moved farther away from the train platform and around the bend in the tracks, she pulled out a flashlight to guide her way.
She had promised her father that she wasn’t going to fight crime, but criminals just seemed to find her. Fortunately, after her last Londinium caper, she left her Batgirl costume, her utility belt and even her small purple Batgirl motorcycle she had purchased hidden in one of Londinium’s many abandoned tube stations. It took her a minute of searching to find the circuit panel that gave her some light to work under. She pulled the dusty tarp off the Batgirl cycle, then unlocked the metal locker that had her Batgirl uniform, cowl and belt.
Alfred had suggested that she look for a place to create her own “Bat-cave” rather than trying to take her costume back to Gotham. It would make life much simpler if she ever had to return to Londinium on a case. She stripped down and suited up as Batgirl.
Lady Prudence had tried to kill Barbara. Eventually, she would realize that she had failed. While Barbara and Batgirl may have been on Prudence’s wish list for victims, surviving would move Barbara to the very top of it…
With little help to be expected from official sources, Barbara had looked through the news clippings about the thefts with interest. She just didn’t think this could be any sort of coincidence. Prudence couldn’t have stayed and toyed with her victim and committed a major theft at the same time… The other crimes all mirrored in a funhouse version of the Londinium Larcenies of her last visit. The coins, the Easter Eggs, Desmonde’s Diamonds, there were only two crimes that hadn’t been included… the Crown Jewels and her Majesty’s Royal Snuff Boxes. The Crown Jewels were safely under guard at The Tower of Londinium with a triple guard ever since the plot to steal them was exposed. Her Majesty's Royal snuff boxes were also on display in the nearly impenetrable fortress of the Tower.
Barbara spread out a map on an old work bench. Lady Prudence was certainly based at Ffogg Place and she may well be hiding her loot somewhere on the grounds, but it was her home turf. She would have all the advantages. Batgirl wasn’t going to try her luck sneaking into the Cricket Pavillion and there was no telling what other traps the grounds might harbor.
“Is it possible that Prudence is trying to recreate the crimes that sent her, her aunt and uncle to prison?” Barbara mused as she looked over the map. All the crime scenes were within a few miles of the discotheque, with the exception of Lady Easterlands truck hijacking. That was less than a ten minute drive from Ffogg Place. The truck was found abandoned in a shire miles away and empty. Batgirl was going to keep out of the trap riddled estate for the moment.
The Tower of Londinium was within the same area of all the others. The Royal Jewels and Her Majesty's collection of Royal Snuff Boxes had been moved to the fortress-prison after the Ffogg thefts. Breaking into Ffogg Place would be considerably easier than The “Bloody” Tower, but it was far less likely to be strewn with lethal booby traps. On her previous visit Barbara had toured the tower, and in addition to marveling at the history and treasures, she had been absorbing all the features of the building and potential ways to gain access unnoticed. It had become a habit born of her crimefighting career. Every building had a weakness, no matter how secure. Sometimes her interests were to thwart criminals and sometimes to access their lairs.
Looking at the pattern of crimes that Barbara was attributing to Lady Prudence and her gang, She expected that Prudence would make another try for the Crown Jewels or the Snuff Boxes later tonight. If the gang waited too long, Ireland Yard might see the pattern beef up the security even more than they already have.
Barbara put her street clothes over her Batsuit and packed what she thought she would need into her shoulder bag and set out with her shoulder bag loaded down for an afternoon tour of the Tower of Londinium.
Barbara stood in line at the admissions gate of The Bloody Tower. Weirdly, this was the part of her plan she worried about most. It wasn’t the riskiest part, but she still hated it. As she reached the desk, she plopped her coat and bag in front of the guard and fidgetted while he patted down the coat and then opened the bag. Atop the clutter was her umbrella, her wallet, keys, some feminine hygiene products and the brown box with the dildo she picked up from a sex shop, along with some lacey underwear.
The guard looked uncomfortably at the recently purchased sex toy and back at the fidgeting woman and immediately abandoned further inspection, closed the bag and waved her through to enjoy the tour with no further embarrassment. He just wished the tourists would hit the sex shops after the museums and not before.
Once inside the museum Barbara relaxed and enjoyed the many features it had to offer. She noted the armed guards in ceremonial dress standing guard over the Crown Jewels. Their Beefeater costumes might be ceremonial, but the guns they had were not.
Barbara continued to look at the different historical displays. Her Majesty’s Royal Snuff Boxes were there in a larger cell that had been converted into a gallery. For tobacco products, they were an impressive collection, made by the hand of artisans such as Faberge and Cartier. Beautifully crafted from gold, silver, platinum and precious stones. Exquisite and valuable, they would be difficult to fence without destroying them.
She also looked through the torture collection. The place where medieval confessions were extracted. Racks and several other devices where interrogations might be taken and occasionally used to meet out punishments of unique and savage natures. Barbara had met several versions of these devices during her time as a crime fighter. More than once she had faced a fetishized rack or manacle meant to inflict not just a mortal peril, but sexualized perversion to gratify the sexual whims of her adversary.
She didn’t like to admit to herself, but she was also the adrenaline junky that rode the sexual highs from the likes of Lady Prudence, Nora Clavicle, Pirate Princess and Minerva. Barbara had been wet with excitement after being rescued by Pepper just the night before and had been ready to rip the clothes off the little red head by the time she got her back to the hotel. Not that Pepper had been any less enthusiastic, but a normal person would have been looking to make a police report rather than a marathon fuck with her rescuer.
She smirked to herself that despite finding Barbara moments from death, Pepper hadn’t insisted on a direct call to the police either. She had been just as enthusiastic in participation as Barbara had been.
Barbara moved around the displays and explored the expanse of the building with her critical eye on cameras, alarms and alcoves. Eventually she moved towards the lady’s restroom. Instead of moving into one of the stalls, she reached for the locked storage area that was just off its entrance. The lock was easily picked. Her hands were so quick that an onlooker might have mistaken her moves for slipping through an unbolted closet.
The small space had no light, except from the torch that Barbara had brought with her. Once inside she quickly opened her bag and pulled out her Batgirl outfit. Some of her costume had been hidden under her street clothes. Her cowl had been hidden inside the dildo box and her utility belt had been secreted in the hidden pouch on the floor of her purse. No one ever looked inside the box and once they saw it and the crotchless panties, she was home free.
Looking at the time she realized she still had a half hour before the museum closed. Once it did, she would give it another hour before the security sweeps and building maintenance had finished up before she would set up her ambush and wait for Lady Prudence and her cohorts to appear sometime after mid-night.
Barbara waited patiently in the dark. She could hear the cleaning crew come in to clean the adjacent bathroom. They even picked some restocked supplies from the closet, but Barbara was able to conceal herself behind some shelving. Eventually all sound in the tower drifted away into a deathly silence. Barbara continued to wait for another hour and then she waited another hour.
Barbara crept out of her hiding place, her ears peeled for the slightest sound of either Lady Prudence or the Beefeater Guards making their rounds through the otherwise deserted museum.
According to her observations and prior knowledge, the guards would be making regular rounds through the museum every half hour, and using their keys to clock in each round of the displays.
Prudence would have exactly thirty minutes to clear out the snuff boxes and exit the building before one of the Beefeaters would discover the crime and raise the alarm. From her closet hiding place, Barbara had confirmed the sound and rhythm of the patrols.
Barbara moved through the building towards the Royal Snuff Boxes. With roving foot patrols, there was little worry about tripping the alarms as she moved around the building.
Finally, arriving at the cell that had been converted to a gallery for the precious loot, Barbara was surprised to see the black metal bars still propped open. The display case, still lit, but now empty of treasure, was the only source of light. She slowed her advance through the dark. Inside was sitting a lone figure wearing the light blue dress of a custodian and the black Tudor hat and holding the wooden pike of a Beefeater.
“Well, if it isn’t Batgirl!” Lady Prudence’s voice broke the silence.
At that moment, Barbara felt the tips of two steel pikes poking into her back.
“I’ve been waiting for you…”
Barbara carried the tray of room service breakfast over to the little coffee table. Her silk robe only extended down to her mid-thigh. She looked at Pepper as she poured her a mug of coffee. Pepper was wearing the terry-cloth robe that came with the room.
Her areola peaked out from within the robe and Barbara couldn’t help but notice they matched the red freckles that dotted her face and shoulders as well as the flowing locks of her red hair.
Despite the night of dancing, a freezing river plunge, enthusiastic sex and a mild hangover, she looked surprisingly fresh.
“Oh Barb, are you this much fun all the time?” She draped her naked leg over Barbara’s. It exposed some dainty small patch of Pepper’s short cropped pussy hair. She sipped her coffee and knocked the empties from the minibar over as she created space for the breakfast plate of eggs and bacon.
“Sometimes,” Barbara spread her legs a little bit, giving Pepper a view of her open legs while she raised her plate to trap any escaping bits of food. “But not usually.”
“Aside from looking smashing in a gag, what did you do that got Lady Pru’ so worked up about you?”
“Its a bit of a story… A couple of years ago I visited Londinium with my father, The Police Commissioner of Gotham City, Lady Peasoup invited me to be a guest faculty member at her exclusive finishing school at Ffogg Place.” Barbara continued with her breakfast.
“That seems like a silly idea when they were running a burglary ring.” Pepper was running her calf up and down Barbara’s inner thigh.
“It was and it wasn’t,” Barbara went on, trying not to be distracted. “They assumed they would be able to keep an eye on me and have a hostage if their schemes went south. But, it ended up working against them. I was able to do my own investigation and realized they were hiding much of their loot in the old Cricket Pavillion on the grounds.”
“I provided a lot of the damning testimony at their trials. She also has it out for Batgirl.”
“Why? I read almost nothing about Batgirl in stories about the case.” Pepper started gathering the service dishes back onto the tray.
“Batgirl was there, she was the one that confirmed where the loot was hidden in Ffogg Place. Prudence managed to capture her and decided to frame her uncle for the rape-murder of Batgirl.”
“Oh dear, how was she going to manage that?”
“You can’t breath a word of this, but…” Barbara hadn’t told anyone about what happened in the dungeon of Ffogg Place, yet Pepper had just saved her life and she had been an awfully good fuck. Barbara instincts told her to trust her. “Ffogg Place had a long history as a sexual playground for Londinium’s elites. She had a mechanical sex chair that she strapped Batgirl into. Her plan was to have the machine fuck Batgirl to death and she and the other students would dump her body in Lord Marmaduke’s bedchambers. Then she would blow the whistle on him and Peasoup. Ireland Yard would find the bodies, and some of the loot tying them to the robberies.”
“With Marmaduke and Penelope out of the way, Lady Prudence would get Ffogg Place, the rest of the loot and rid of Batgirl all at the same time.” Barbara was checking on her outfit for the day. She gave Pepper some fresh clothes, so she wouldn’t have to make the walk of shame in her water stained blue minidress.
“Why wasn’t any of this in any of the reporting?” Pepper was putting on one of Barbara’s skirts and blouse. Otherwise she was going full commando. Barbara wondered if her bra-less breasts wouldn’t attract too much notice on the metro.
“Batgirl said she didn’t want the tawdry parts of the affair to come out if they didn’t have too. Marmaduke, Penelope and Prudence were all convicted of the thefts. Marmaduke and Penelope were convicted of the attempted murder of Batman and Robin. Prudence was tried for attempting to kidnap and kill Robin.”
“Why didn’t that work?”
“It turns out Robin wasn’t much of a hostage. His entire captivity involved him getting his dick sucked and pressuring the girls for anal.”
“Oooh, The coppers don’t like buggery… They outlawed it for over four hundred years.”
“Yes and the attempted murder charge went belly up when they couldn’t prove the ‘killer bee’ wasn’t just a regular bee sting.” Barbara laughed. No one was more upset that Prudence only got a slap on the wrist than she was, but this was typical for Batman and Robin.
“What are you going to do about Prudence trying to dump you in the river?” Pepper looked out the window and could see the Tipton Teapot chugging away in the distance.
“I’ll call Chief Inspector Watson and tell him what happened.” Barbara picked up the phone and carried it towards the bathroom. “Prudence said I wasn’t the first one to get ‘teabagged’ as she put it. There must be more evidence either in the club or in the river…” Barbara closed the door to make her call in private.
A few minutes later, Barbara came out of the bathroom. “About what I expected.”
“Well?”
“He invited me to Ireland Yard after tea tomorrow to make a statement.” Barbara sat down next to Pepper.
That’s it?” Pepper put her hand on her knee. “You offer him the Redchappel Ripper and he asks you to stop by tomorrow afternoon?”
“He said he doesn’t want anything to do with more Yank buffoonery after the humiliation of finding out that Robin, whose life was supposedly in dire peril, spent the entire time getting his dick sucked and rear-ending everything in a skirt the entire time… With pictures and two days of testimony from every girl in the school describing it in explicit detail, along with pictures.”
“He’s not interested?”
“He’s meeting with me only because I actually helped get the convictions and because my father is a public figure.” Barbara picked up her bag. “I’ll walk you to the Tube. I have to be at the My library conference.”
As they walked Barbara gazed absently ahead of her. “I’ve been thinking about Prudence….”
“Anything that I should be jealous of?” Pepper smiled and looked at Barbara’s furrowed brow.
“Well, everything I know about her is that she has a strong-sado sexual appetite. Why didn’t she stick around to watch? She went through all the trouble to create an elaborate method of execution, but then she just left…” Barbara stole a glance at Pepper as they walked. She wasn’t going to say it outloud, but why didn’t she sexually assault her? Lady Penelope had included it the training for her Crime School for Girls. She had put Batgirl in the fuck chair to frame Lord Ffogg for murder and the sat and watch repeatedly playing with herself as the machine tried to kill her. She even gave Robin a blow job and let him do anal on her.
“Maybe you aren’t her type?” Pepper gave a sideways glance and seeing the look on Barbara’s face laughed. “Okay. So you’re everyone’s type. I would have fucked you once, maybe twice, if I had you drugged and tied up… You think we could try that tonight? I’m game, you did look good in that gag…”
Barbara laughed, “You bring what you like, as long as it isn’t warm beer. Chief Inspector Watson had said he couldn’t meet until tomorrow, because he was busy. I thought he was just pissed about the Robin thing, but maybe he wasn’t.” Barbara stopped in front of a news stand. She picked up the Londinium Times. The banner headline read “Hunt on for Easterland’s Easter Eggs!”
“Maybe she had some place else to be?” Pepper was reading over her shoulder.
“Maybe?” Barbara paid for the paper and folded it under her arm as they continued down to the Tube station.
Barbara gave Pepper a soft kiss on the mouth before sending her off.
After Barbara left Pepper at the Tube station, She didn’t immediately leave for her conference. Instead, she walked up the street, but not with the intention of catching the next train to her conference….
+++++++++++
Barbara sat on the over stuffed leather library chair, Two stacks of newspaper sat on either side of her. Chief Inspector Watson not willing to give Barbara’s complaint the time of day made much more sense now that she had a chance to read up on the goings on in Londinium.
The Londinium underworld was going through a high visibility crime wave the last few weeks. Barbara’s appearance at the club must have coincided with Lady Prudence and her gang getting ready to steal Lady Easterland’s Jeweled Easter Eggs. It wasn’t until she read more details about the theft that it became clear.
It wouldn’t make sense why Prudence and her gang are stealing something that they had already stolen once. Security would be much tighter than it was the first time… And it would be a huge red flag to Ireland Yard.
It turned out, she was right, the crime wasn’t a repeat of their earlier heist. Marmaduke and Penelope had stolen Faberge Easter Eggs. They had been jewel encrusted and would be extremely hard to fence intact. The “Easter Eggs” in this theft were actually vaginal toys, similar to ben-wa balls, vibrators and dildos, all branded as “Easterland’s Eggs”
An entire tractor trailer of Easterland’s sex toys had been waylaid by bandits and the tabloids couldn't resist the story.
As she dug further, she found an article about the theft of a Roman Spintriae, tokens used in Roman brothels to purchase various sex acts. Each coin would depict a particular sex act on one side and a number on the other, allowing customers to communicate with foreign slaves about the activity being purchased. The collection was valued at almost a hundred thousand pounds. Most interestingly, the shop was owned by none other than the Count of Claremont. Marmaduke and Penelope had previously purloined the Count of Claremont’s coin collection
Seeing a pattern, Barbara started hunting for other crimes that fit the pattern of having had a similar crime committed by the Ffoggs. She quickly found an account of a burglary of Duchess of Desborough’s Londinium townhouse. Undisclosed Items had been stolen from her boudoir while the Duchess was enjoying an evening of theatre.
The pattern of crimes was crystal clear to Barbara, but what could she do about it? Chief Inspector Watson was going to be of no use in this case. He made that clear when she called him earlier. The humiliation his department suffered when it came out the lethal weapon Robin was supposedly faced with was a bee sting and that his entire “captivity”, as he put it, involved him “finding cavities to be filled.” The London press had a field day making up nicknames for him, “The Cavity Search Kid” “Cock Robin” “Throbbin’ Robin”. Watson was not amused.
Barbara reached the next tube station, paid her fare and walked down until she reached the end of the platform. After looking back around to see if she was being watched, she disappeared into the tunnel.
As she moved farther away from the train platform and around the bend in the tracks, she pulled out a flashlight to guide her way.
She had promised her father that she wasn’t going to fight crime, but criminals just seemed to find her. Fortunately, after her last Londinium caper, she left her Batgirl costume, her utility belt and even her small purple Batgirl motorcycle she had purchased hidden in one of Londinium’s many abandoned tube stations. It took her a minute of searching to find the circuit panel that gave her some light to work under. She pulled the dusty tarp off the Batgirl cycle, then unlocked the metal locker that had her Batgirl uniform, cowl and belt.
Alfred had suggested that she look for a place to create her own “Bat-cave” rather than trying to take her costume back to Gotham. It would make life much simpler if she ever had to return to Londinium on a case. She stripped down and suited up as Batgirl.
Lady Prudence had tried to kill Barbara. Eventually, she would realize that she had failed. While Barbara and Batgirl may have been on Prudence’s wish list for victims, surviving would move Barbara to the very top of it…
With little help to be expected from official sources, Barbara had looked through the news clippings about the thefts with interest. She just didn’t think this could be any sort of coincidence. Prudence couldn’t have stayed and toyed with her victim and committed a major theft at the same time… The other crimes all mirrored in a funhouse version of the Londinium Larcenies of her last visit. The coins, the Easter Eggs, Desmonde’s Diamonds, there were only two crimes that hadn’t been included… the Crown Jewels and her Majesty’s Royal Snuff Boxes. The Crown Jewels were safely under guard at The Tower of Londinium with a triple guard ever since the plot to steal them was exposed. Her Majesty's Royal snuff boxes were also on display in the nearly impenetrable fortress of the Tower.
Barbara spread out a map on an old work bench. Lady Prudence was certainly based at Ffogg Place and she may well be hiding her loot somewhere on the grounds, but it was her home turf. She would have all the advantages. Batgirl wasn’t going to try her luck sneaking into the Cricket Pavillion and there was no telling what other traps the grounds might harbor.
“Is it possible that Prudence is trying to recreate the crimes that sent her, her aunt and uncle to prison?” Barbara mused as she looked over the map. All the crime scenes were within a few miles of the discotheque, with the exception of Lady Easterlands truck hijacking. That was less than a ten minute drive from Ffogg Place. The truck was found abandoned in a shire miles away and empty. Batgirl was going to keep out of the trap riddled estate for the moment.
The Tower of Londinium was within the same area of all the others. The Royal Jewels and Her Majesty's collection of Royal Snuff Boxes had been moved to the fortress-prison after the Ffogg thefts. Breaking into Ffogg Place would be considerably easier than The “Bloody” Tower, but it was far less likely to be strewn with lethal booby traps. On her previous visit Barbara had toured the tower, and in addition to marveling at the history and treasures, she had been absorbing all the features of the building and potential ways to gain access unnoticed. It had become a habit born of her crimefighting career. Every building had a weakness, no matter how secure. Sometimes her interests were to thwart criminals and sometimes to access their lairs.
Looking at the pattern of crimes that Barbara was attributing to Lady Prudence and her gang, She expected that Prudence would make another try for the Crown Jewels or the Snuff Boxes later tonight. If the gang waited too long, Ireland Yard might see the pattern beef up the security even more than they already have.
Barbara put her street clothes over her Batsuit and packed what she thought she would need into her shoulder bag and set out with her shoulder bag loaded down for an afternoon tour of the Tower of Londinium.
Barbara stood in line at the admissions gate of The Bloody Tower. Weirdly, this was the part of her plan she worried about most. It wasn’t the riskiest part, but she still hated it. As she reached the desk, she plopped her coat and bag in front of the guard and fidgetted while he patted down the coat and then opened the bag. Atop the clutter was her umbrella, her wallet, keys, some feminine hygiene products and the brown box with the dildo she picked up from a sex shop, along with some lacey underwear.
The guard looked uncomfortably at the recently purchased sex toy and back at the fidgeting woman and immediately abandoned further inspection, closed the bag and waved her through to enjoy the tour with no further embarrassment. He just wished the tourists would hit the sex shops after the museums and not before.
Once inside the museum Barbara relaxed and enjoyed the many features it had to offer. She noted the armed guards in ceremonial dress standing guard over the Crown Jewels. Their Beefeater costumes might be ceremonial, but the guns they had were not.
Barbara continued to look at the different historical displays. Her Majesty’s Royal Snuff Boxes were there in a larger cell that had been converted into a gallery. For tobacco products, they were an impressive collection, made by the hand of artisans such as Faberge and Cartier. Beautifully crafted from gold, silver, platinum and precious stones. Exquisite and valuable, they would be difficult to fence without destroying them.
She also looked through the torture collection. The place where medieval confessions were extracted. Racks and several other devices where interrogations might be taken and occasionally used to meet out punishments of unique and savage natures. Barbara had met several versions of these devices during her time as a crime fighter. More than once she had faced a fetishized rack or manacle meant to inflict not just a mortal peril, but sexualized perversion to gratify the sexual whims of her adversary.
She didn’t like to admit to herself, but she was also the adrenaline junky that rode the sexual highs from the likes of Lady Prudence, Nora Clavicle, Pirate Princess and Minerva. Barbara had been wet with excitement after being rescued by Pepper just the night before and had been ready to rip the clothes off the little red head by the time she got her back to the hotel. Not that Pepper had been any less enthusiastic, but a normal person would have been looking to make a police report rather than a marathon fuck with her rescuer.
She smirked to herself that despite finding Barbara moments from death, Pepper hadn’t insisted on a direct call to the police either. She had been just as enthusiastic in participation as Barbara had been.
Barbara moved around the displays and explored the expanse of the building with her critical eye on cameras, alarms and alcoves. Eventually she moved towards the lady’s restroom. Instead of moving into one of the stalls, she reached for the locked storage area that was just off its entrance. The lock was easily picked. Her hands were so quick that an onlooker might have mistaken her moves for slipping through an unbolted closet.
The small space had no light, except from the torch that Barbara had brought with her. Once inside she quickly opened her bag and pulled out her Batgirl outfit. Some of her costume had been hidden under her street clothes. Her cowl had been hidden inside the dildo box and her utility belt had been secreted in the hidden pouch on the floor of her purse. No one ever looked inside the box and once they saw it and the crotchless panties, she was home free.
Looking at the time she realized she still had a half hour before the museum closed. Once it did, she would give it another hour before the security sweeps and building maintenance had finished up before she would set up her ambush and wait for Lady Prudence and her cohorts to appear sometime after mid-night.
Barbara waited patiently in the dark. She could hear the cleaning crew come in to clean the adjacent bathroom. They even picked some restocked supplies from the closet, but Barbara was able to conceal herself behind some shelving. Eventually all sound in the tower drifted away into a deathly silence. Barbara continued to wait for another hour and then she waited another hour.
Barbara crept out of her hiding place, her ears peeled for the slightest sound of either Lady Prudence or the Beefeater Guards making their rounds through the otherwise deserted museum.
According to her observations and prior knowledge, the guards would be making regular rounds through the museum every half hour, and using their keys to clock in each round of the displays.
Prudence would have exactly thirty minutes to clear out the snuff boxes and exit the building before one of the Beefeaters would discover the crime and raise the alarm. From her closet hiding place, Barbara had confirmed the sound and rhythm of the patrols.
Barbara moved through the building towards the Royal Snuff Boxes. With roving foot patrols, there was little worry about tripping the alarms as she moved around the building.
Finally, arriving at the cell that had been converted to a gallery for the precious loot, Barbara was surprised to see the black metal bars still propped open. The display case, still lit, but now empty of treasure, was the only source of light. She slowed her advance through the dark. Inside was sitting a lone figure wearing the light blue dress of a custodian and the black Tudor hat and holding the wooden pike of a Beefeater.
“Well, if it isn’t Batgirl!” Lady Prudence’s voice broke the silence.
At that moment, Barbara felt the tips of two steel pikes poking into her back.
“I’ve been waiting for you…”
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Part 6
Lady Prudence smiled from her folding metal chair. Her long legs were pale white in the harsh light of the display cabinet. The cheap light blue dress of the nightly cleaning crew had bunched up on her thigh, helping expose more of her legs. Even wearing the practical white flats of a domestic, her legs looked exceptional.
“I was starting to think you might not show up.” She pushed the brim of her Tudor hat up so Barbara could confirm it was really Prudence. In her other hand she held the shaft of one of the guard’s ceremonial pikes. On its head there was a spear point and a smallish axe blade below it. Barbara assumed that whoever was behind her was similarly armed. An excellent standoff weapon for fighting in narrow halls of a late medieval fortress. In the open, Batgirl could probably have disarmed both of her attackers, but in the confines of the Bloody Tower, she would never get past the pikes.
“I thought I might find you here.” Barbara was going to bluff confidence, making sure Prudence felt doubt over the situation.
“I was counting on finding you here, Batgirl.” Prudence pulled herself up to her feet, as if she had been exhausted by the effort of waiting. “I took care of your friend Barbara Gordon last night, and I will take care of you tonight” She smiled. Prudence was undeniably attractive, but her mouth formed a cold, dead smile, telegraphing an aristocratic anger more than the warmth one might expect.
She looked appreciatively at the wooden shaft of the pike. “We fogged the guard, so we could have an uninterrupted night of fun. I was hoping you'd show up with a little more of your American punctuality, to maximize our time together.”
She moved the point of the pike under Barbara’s chin, forcing her to raise it. “I was sorely disappointed when Miss Gordon showed up at my club last night. I did not get the… how should I put it? The level of intimacy I would have liked.”
“But, I am not going to let you be such a disappointment.” Her cold, dead smile broadened. “If you would kindly turn around, Batgirl..”
The three women marched Barbara through the Bloody Tower. She assumed they were heading to the display of torture implements that she had examined before closing. To her surprise, they passed through the room without even slowing down. Instead they came to a non descript door that was labelled “Her Majesty’s Secret Lower Dungeon” and “Authorized Personnel Only.”
Barbara was pushed ahead of her three captors at spear point. The stair was a steep winding stone spiral and Barbara was prodded into the dark by Prudence. Unable to see, Barbara could do nothing but comply. When she reached the bottom landing, Prudence gave her a sharp push and turned on the dungeon lights.
They were in a damp, moisture filled chamber. On one side of the chamber was stone trench deep enough for a medieval man to stand up in. It was more than adequate for Barbara’s diminutive five-three frame. Attached to the walls were a pair of manacles hanging on either side metal collar and at the bottom of the pit were a pair of spread out ankle chains.
“Down you go” Lady Prudence prodded Barbara with her pike. “You can go down there yourself or I can push you down there with this pike. Your choice.” Barbara could feel the sharp metal point ripping her Bat-suit.
Reluctantly, she lowered her hands to stoop down and jumped into the pit. When she stood up, she had to look up to see over the rim of the pit.
“Excellent, now shackle your ankles to the walls.” She pointed to the two short chains with the open manacled protruding from the wall near the floor. “Make it quick Batgirl… We have a long night ahead… and I don’t want to waste a second of it… and close them with the locks.” She motioned to the pile of old, black metal locks that were sitting on the floor.
Barbara complied, noting the locks were not so sophisticated that she would have any trouble opening them, if she could reach them.
“Very nice, I think this will do very nicely.” Prudence admired the wide spread between Batgirl’s feet. “Now, take one of the locks and put the collar on. Good, now put your right hand in its manacle.”
Once Barbara was secured at her neck and one wrist, Prudence signalled to one of her accomplices to climb down and finish the job.
Barbara recognized her as one of the accomplices from the night before. She briefly speculated about how big Prudence’s gang at Ffogg Place might actually be.
As the female thug reached for Batgirl’s wrist, Barbara decided to make sure she had a reminder of the evening. With a lightning fast move, Barbara jammed her elbow hard into the girl’s face, blood erupted from her nose and the girl temporarily sank to the floor abandoning her attempt to close the final restraint.
“Play nice, Batgirl…” Lady Prudence gave an entertained laugh as she watched her lackey temporarily incapacitated with the hit. She eventually stood back up, holding her broken nose with one hand and securing the remaining manacle with the other.
Now that their victim was fully secured. The other hench woman helped her compatriot out of the pit while Prudence retrieved a canvas bag from under the only piece of furniture in the cell, a leather reading chair.
Prudence climbed down and personally examined Barbara’s predicament. Each chain holding her to the wall was only a scant six inches, providing almost no range of motion. Hardly enough to reach a neighboring restraint or enough space for winding up a good punch or kick.
“Well done, Batgirl! I had expected you to land a shot or two at some point and you did not disappoint.” She looked up at the girl who was now having her other companion setting her broken with a sickening crack sound followed by wails of pain in the process. A cleaning rag was used to staunch the flood of blood coming from her.
“I was very disappointed that I was not able to spend more time with your friend Miss Gordon last night. She was very nicely done up, cute, two piece outfit. Lots of sparkly fringe, blue to match her eyes. I would have very much liked to have taken her back to the Cricket Pavillion, but she showed up just as we were preparing to pull a heist. When I heard she was in town for the Library Conference I assumed she would be coming with you in tow.
“I couldn’t imagine that her police commissioner daddy would let come to Londinium alone… not while the girl gangs were duking it out after her testimony put my aunt and uncle away.”
“That’s why I started this series of larcenies. She would’ve been foolish to come to Londinium on her own, but I figured that we would snatch her later, but as my uncle, Lord Marmaduke, would say, ‘never put off killing a pest today that you will have to kill tomorrow…’”
“This sub-dungeon has been off the tour for decades, far too damp for tourists. They used to use it for a laundry, but everything they put down here would rust or get moldy.” Prudence pulled her sack down and placed it on the floor. “Of course, that goes without saying. Since this was used as a drowning pit…”
“Is that what you are planning for me? A drowning?” Barbara looked up at the two remaining hench women. They both kept their pikes at the ready, in case the manacled and chained heroine should suddenly turn on them like she had on their hapless companion.
“No Batgirl, high tide won’t flood this room for another nine hours. Well after the theft of the Royal Snuff Boxes is discovered.” Prudence drew a metal pull up bar from her bag. “Too have gotten this far, you must have realized that my latest crimes were all variations of the crimes that were used to send my Aunt and Uncle away, have you not?”
“It was not very clever, Ireland Yard will recognize the pattern sooner or later…” Barbara looked as Prudence braced the bar between the narrow walls of the pit, just beneath her spread legs.
“Ah… But Batgirl is soon, soon enough?” Prudence pushed down on the bar, making sure that it was solidly wedged into place.
“Why do you think this robbery was the only one that was a direct repeat of our original crimes?” She pulled out a pair of surgical shears.
“I don’t know, but I suppose you are going to tell me.” Barbara tried to shrink away from the shears.
“Of course I am…. You know I just love good gloat… You see, Batgirl, the crime was completely pretextual. The real crime was to get you here.” She snipped away at the middle of Barbara’s spread legs, spreading the fabric to expose her pussy. “You Americans use the term ‘snuff’ for something other than tobacco, don’t you?”
Barbara immediately saw where Prudence was going with this. Her body reflexively tensed, There was nothing she was ever going to say that would change what was coming next.
“American gangsters like to say ‘snuff’ when they need a euphemism for getting rid of someone, and ‘box’? Well, I think you already know that one…” Prudence started to finger Barbara’s labia and finding it already wet, inserted her fingers inside her captive. As her fingers aggressively penetrated Barbara’s pussy, she leaned in a whisper, “I am going to snuff your box….” and kissed the side of Barbara's retreating cheek.
“You aren’t going to get away with this, Prudence. You're going to end up in jail for a very long time.” There was very little Barbara could do other than bluff and bluster.
“Oh, Batgirl, the question shouldn’t be whether I get away with it, but whether I succeed.” She pointed at the floor. Water was seeping in from between the gaps in the stone. She lifted the bag and slung it over her shoulder and pulled out a little blue egg shaped device. A small metal chain dangled from it. “One of Lady Easterland’s ‘Easterland Eggs.’” She gave it a twist and the egg sprang to life.
“This serves a special purpose, but I will get to that later… In anycase, I have about 12, 000 more, so I figured I could spare one. With that she started to work the toy between the lips of her Barbara’s labia.
Barbara could feel her pussy flowering at the vibrating touch of the egg against her cunt. She moaned involuntarily as her pussy quickly wetted. In short order, Prudence had slipped the toy into the fold of sex and deep inside her victim.
“That famous addiction to danger is such a turn on. You know I am going to dispose of you and what do you do? You get deliciously wet…” Prudence cupped her hand against Batgirl’s pussy and could feel the egg vibrating through her body.
Barbara gasped reflexively at the sensation. She was mortified that Prudence was reading her so well. She fought to keep her composure.
“I doubt anyone will hear you anyway, but this is a signature of the Redchapel Ripper… One of his, or rather my signature gags.” she pulled out a piece of cloth that was 15 cm long and an 5 cm wide. It was made from a thick canvas.
Barbara knew from extensive experience that tape gags were terrible. Unless they were wrapped multiple times around the head, they would almost immediately fall or the victim would end up talking with a giant silver mustache as the tape came undone from one lip or another.
This one was different, impregnated into the canvas was a thick layer of yellow glue. Thicker and denser than a glue trap, Prudence peeled off the backing and pushed it across Barbara’s mouth before she could react to the sight of it.
Trying to argue with Prudence, Barbara discovered the effectiveness of the gag. Her mouth was sealed shut.
“I came up with it with Aunt Penelope, she was always an enthusiastic supporter of bondage and fetish innovations.” Prudence resumed digging through the bag. She tosses an old cloth covered extension cord up out of the pit, before pulling out a large metal device.
“She sent me this beast from Gotham, during her brief residence at Pinkston Palisades, which I understand, you were responsible for cutting short….” Barbara knew what it was and what it was capable of, but she fought to keep it out of her mind.
“This is a Genital Electric, 1934 double clutched vibrator. The great-grand pappy of the venerable and ubiquitous Hitachi wands used today.” She hefted the aluminium casing, the black head was old blackened rubber and the body of looked more like it was designed more for refinishing furniture than relieving ‘feminine hysteria.’ “I guess clits were made of tougher stuff back in the day…”
“And look, a handy mounting clamp.” Prudence attached the Genital Electric, 1934 to the metal bar that wedged between her spread thighs.
“This beast is designed to go to eleven, but I will set it at number four. I don’t want it to damage the masonry as much as I want it to damage your pussy.” With the head of the virator snug against her sex, Prudence lashed it in place with some ropes. Then she wrapped the power cord around the bar back to the other side of the pit and up to the extension cord.
“I wouldn’t want to plug this thing in while standing in a pit filled with water…” Both looked down, the water had already risen above Barbara’s ankle boots and it was visibly rising. Instinctively, Barbara pulled at the chains on the walls. They had been anchored there centuries ago and would be there centuries from now. Prudence started the climb out of the wet pit.
“Now, Batgirl, in case you haven't figured it out, let me explain. That positively fiendish old vibrator is soon to be plugged into this special, ridiculously high voltage outlet that remains from when this space was set up as a laundry.” Prudence motioned to blackened old sign that read ‘Danger, High Voltage.’ “I’ve replaced the fuse for the outlet with a bar of solid copper. I imagine that I am about to black out half of Londinium to kill you, but that is why I brought a flashlight.”
“That lovely metal chain from Lady Easterland’s Easter Egg is going to make sure that when the water rises far enough, it will cook you from the inside out…” Lady Prudence slid the brown leather chair, kicked off her wet shoes and lifted one leg over the chair leg, spreading them to expose a pair of lacey black panties to Barbara. “You don’t mind if I watch, do you?”
Is this the End of Batgirl?
Easterland’s Easter Egg poaching her from the inside out?
Is Lady Prudence wanking off because she likes girls or because she likes killing?
Tune in same Bat-Time, Same Bat Channel
Lady Prudence smiled from her folding metal chair. Her long legs were pale white in the harsh light of the display cabinet. The cheap light blue dress of the nightly cleaning crew had bunched up on her thigh, helping expose more of her legs. Even wearing the practical white flats of a domestic, her legs looked exceptional.
“I was starting to think you might not show up.” She pushed the brim of her Tudor hat up so Barbara could confirm it was really Prudence. In her other hand she held the shaft of one of the guard’s ceremonial pikes. On its head there was a spear point and a smallish axe blade below it. Barbara assumed that whoever was behind her was similarly armed. An excellent standoff weapon for fighting in narrow halls of a late medieval fortress. In the open, Batgirl could probably have disarmed both of her attackers, but in the confines of the Bloody Tower, she would never get past the pikes.
“I thought I might find you here.” Barbara was going to bluff confidence, making sure Prudence felt doubt over the situation.
“I was counting on finding you here, Batgirl.” Prudence pulled herself up to her feet, as if she had been exhausted by the effort of waiting. “I took care of your friend Barbara Gordon last night, and I will take care of you tonight” She smiled. Prudence was undeniably attractive, but her mouth formed a cold, dead smile, telegraphing an aristocratic anger more than the warmth one might expect.
She looked appreciatively at the wooden shaft of the pike. “We fogged the guard, so we could have an uninterrupted night of fun. I was hoping you'd show up with a little more of your American punctuality, to maximize our time together.”
She moved the point of the pike under Barbara’s chin, forcing her to raise it. “I was sorely disappointed when Miss Gordon showed up at my club last night. I did not get the… how should I put it? The level of intimacy I would have liked.”
“But, I am not going to let you be such a disappointment.” Her cold, dead smile broadened. “If you would kindly turn around, Batgirl..”
The three women marched Barbara through the Bloody Tower. She assumed they were heading to the display of torture implements that she had examined before closing. To her surprise, they passed through the room without even slowing down. Instead they came to a non descript door that was labelled “Her Majesty’s Secret Lower Dungeon” and “Authorized Personnel Only.”
Barbara was pushed ahead of her three captors at spear point. The stair was a steep winding stone spiral and Barbara was prodded into the dark by Prudence. Unable to see, Barbara could do nothing but comply. When she reached the bottom landing, Prudence gave her a sharp push and turned on the dungeon lights.
They were in a damp, moisture filled chamber. On one side of the chamber was stone trench deep enough for a medieval man to stand up in. It was more than adequate for Barbara’s diminutive five-three frame. Attached to the walls were a pair of manacles hanging on either side metal collar and at the bottom of the pit were a pair of spread out ankle chains.
“Down you go” Lady Prudence prodded Barbara with her pike. “You can go down there yourself or I can push you down there with this pike. Your choice.” Barbara could feel the sharp metal point ripping her Bat-suit.
Reluctantly, she lowered her hands to stoop down and jumped into the pit. When she stood up, she had to look up to see over the rim of the pit.
“Excellent, now shackle your ankles to the walls.” She pointed to the two short chains with the open manacled protruding from the wall near the floor. “Make it quick Batgirl… We have a long night ahead… and I don’t want to waste a second of it… and close them with the locks.” She motioned to the pile of old, black metal locks that were sitting on the floor.
Barbara complied, noting the locks were not so sophisticated that she would have any trouble opening them, if she could reach them.
“Very nice, I think this will do very nicely.” Prudence admired the wide spread between Batgirl’s feet. “Now, take one of the locks and put the collar on. Good, now put your right hand in its manacle.”
Once Barbara was secured at her neck and one wrist, Prudence signalled to one of her accomplices to climb down and finish the job.
Barbara recognized her as one of the accomplices from the night before. She briefly speculated about how big Prudence’s gang at Ffogg Place might actually be.
As the female thug reached for Batgirl’s wrist, Barbara decided to make sure she had a reminder of the evening. With a lightning fast move, Barbara jammed her elbow hard into the girl’s face, blood erupted from her nose and the girl temporarily sank to the floor abandoning her attempt to close the final restraint.
“Play nice, Batgirl…” Lady Prudence gave an entertained laugh as she watched her lackey temporarily incapacitated with the hit. She eventually stood back up, holding her broken nose with one hand and securing the remaining manacle with the other.
Now that their victim was fully secured. The other hench woman helped her compatriot out of the pit while Prudence retrieved a canvas bag from under the only piece of furniture in the cell, a leather reading chair.
Prudence climbed down and personally examined Barbara’s predicament. Each chain holding her to the wall was only a scant six inches, providing almost no range of motion. Hardly enough to reach a neighboring restraint or enough space for winding up a good punch or kick.
“Well done, Batgirl! I had expected you to land a shot or two at some point and you did not disappoint.” She looked up at the girl who was now having her other companion setting her broken with a sickening crack sound followed by wails of pain in the process. A cleaning rag was used to staunch the flood of blood coming from her.
“I was very disappointed that I was not able to spend more time with your friend Miss Gordon last night. She was very nicely done up, cute, two piece outfit. Lots of sparkly fringe, blue to match her eyes. I would have very much liked to have taken her back to the Cricket Pavillion, but she showed up just as we were preparing to pull a heist. When I heard she was in town for the Library Conference I assumed she would be coming with you in tow.
“I couldn’t imagine that her police commissioner daddy would let come to Londinium alone… not while the girl gangs were duking it out after her testimony put my aunt and uncle away.”
“That’s why I started this series of larcenies. She would’ve been foolish to come to Londinium on her own, but I figured that we would snatch her later, but as my uncle, Lord Marmaduke, would say, ‘never put off killing a pest today that you will have to kill tomorrow…’”
“This sub-dungeon has been off the tour for decades, far too damp for tourists. They used to use it for a laundry, but everything they put down here would rust or get moldy.” Prudence pulled her sack down and placed it on the floor. “Of course, that goes without saying. Since this was used as a drowning pit…”
“Is that what you are planning for me? A drowning?” Barbara looked up at the two remaining hench women. They both kept their pikes at the ready, in case the manacled and chained heroine should suddenly turn on them like she had on their hapless companion.
“No Batgirl, high tide won’t flood this room for another nine hours. Well after the theft of the Royal Snuff Boxes is discovered.” Prudence drew a metal pull up bar from her bag. “Too have gotten this far, you must have realized that my latest crimes were all variations of the crimes that were used to send my Aunt and Uncle away, have you not?”
“It was not very clever, Ireland Yard will recognize the pattern sooner or later…” Barbara looked as Prudence braced the bar between the narrow walls of the pit, just beneath her spread legs.
“Ah… But Batgirl is soon, soon enough?” Prudence pushed down on the bar, making sure that it was solidly wedged into place.
“Why do you think this robbery was the only one that was a direct repeat of our original crimes?” She pulled out a pair of surgical shears.
“I don’t know, but I suppose you are going to tell me.” Barbara tried to shrink away from the shears.
“Of course I am…. You know I just love good gloat… You see, Batgirl, the crime was completely pretextual. The real crime was to get you here.” She snipped away at the middle of Barbara’s spread legs, spreading the fabric to expose her pussy. “You Americans use the term ‘snuff’ for something other than tobacco, don’t you?”
Barbara immediately saw where Prudence was going with this. Her body reflexively tensed, There was nothing she was ever going to say that would change what was coming next.
“American gangsters like to say ‘snuff’ when they need a euphemism for getting rid of someone, and ‘box’? Well, I think you already know that one…” Prudence started to finger Barbara’s labia and finding it already wet, inserted her fingers inside her captive. As her fingers aggressively penetrated Barbara’s pussy, she leaned in a whisper, “I am going to snuff your box….” and kissed the side of Barbara's retreating cheek.
“You aren’t going to get away with this, Prudence. You're going to end up in jail for a very long time.” There was very little Barbara could do other than bluff and bluster.
“Oh, Batgirl, the question shouldn’t be whether I get away with it, but whether I succeed.” She pointed at the floor. Water was seeping in from between the gaps in the stone. She lifted the bag and slung it over her shoulder and pulled out a little blue egg shaped device. A small metal chain dangled from it. “One of Lady Easterland’s ‘Easterland Eggs.’” She gave it a twist and the egg sprang to life.
“This serves a special purpose, but I will get to that later… In anycase, I have about 12, 000 more, so I figured I could spare one. With that she started to work the toy between the lips of her Barbara’s labia.
Barbara could feel her pussy flowering at the vibrating touch of the egg against her cunt. She moaned involuntarily as her pussy quickly wetted. In short order, Prudence had slipped the toy into the fold of sex and deep inside her victim.
“That famous addiction to danger is such a turn on. You know I am going to dispose of you and what do you do? You get deliciously wet…” Prudence cupped her hand against Batgirl’s pussy and could feel the egg vibrating through her body.
Barbara gasped reflexively at the sensation. She was mortified that Prudence was reading her so well. She fought to keep her composure.
“I doubt anyone will hear you anyway, but this is a signature of the Redchapel Ripper… One of his, or rather my signature gags.” she pulled out a piece of cloth that was 15 cm long and an 5 cm wide. It was made from a thick canvas.
Barbara knew from extensive experience that tape gags were terrible. Unless they were wrapped multiple times around the head, they would almost immediately fall or the victim would end up talking with a giant silver mustache as the tape came undone from one lip or another.
This one was different, impregnated into the canvas was a thick layer of yellow glue. Thicker and denser than a glue trap, Prudence peeled off the backing and pushed it across Barbara’s mouth before she could react to the sight of it.
Trying to argue with Prudence, Barbara discovered the effectiveness of the gag. Her mouth was sealed shut.
“I came up with it with Aunt Penelope, she was always an enthusiastic supporter of bondage and fetish innovations.” Prudence resumed digging through the bag. She tosses an old cloth covered extension cord up out of the pit, before pulling out a large metal device.
“She sent me this beast from Gotham, during her brief residence at Pinkston Palisades, which I understand, you were responsible for cutting short….” Barbara knew what it was and what it was capable of, but she fought to keep it out of her mind.
“This is a Genital Electric, 1934 double clutched vibrator. The great-grand pappy of the venerable and ubiquitous Hitachi wands used today.” She hefted the aluminium casing, the black head was old blackened rubber and the body of looked more like it was designed more for refinishing furniture than relieving ‘feminine hysteria.’ “I guess clits were made of tougher stuff back in the day…”
“And look, a handy mounting clamp.” Prudence attached the Genital Electric, 1934 to the metal bar that wedged between her spread thighs.
“This beast is designed to go to eleven, but I will set it at number four. I don’t want it to damage the masonry as much as I want it to damage your pussy.” With the head of the virator snug against her sex, Prudence lashed it in place with some ropes. Then she wrapped the power cord around the bar back to the other side of the pit and up to the extension cord.
“I wouldn’t want to plug this thing in while standing in a pit filled with water…” Both looked down, the water had already risen above Barbara’s ankle boots and it was visibly rising. Instinctively, Barbara pulled at the chains on the walls. They had been anchored there centuries ago and would be there centuries from now. Prudence started the climb out of the wet pit.
“Now, Batgirl, in case you haven't figured it out, let me explain. That positively fiendish old vibrator is soon to be plugged into this special, ridiculously high voltage outlet that remains from when this space was set up as a laundry.” Prudence motioned to blackened old sign that read ‘Danger, High Voltage.’ “I’ve replaced the fuse for the outlet with a bar of solid copper. I imagine that I am about to black out half of Londinium to kill you, but that is why I brought a flashlight.”
“That lovely metal chain from Lady Easterland’s Easter Egg is going to make sure that when the water rises far enough, it will cook you from the inside out…” Lady Prudence slid the brown leather chair, kicked off her wet shoes and lifted one leg over the chair leg, spreading them to expose a pair of lacey black panties to Barbara. “You don’t mind if I watch, do you?”
Is this the End of Batgirl?
Easterland’s Easter Egg poaching her from the inside out?
Is Lady Prudence wanking off because she likes girls or because she likes killing?
Tune in same Bat-Time, Same Bat Channel
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Part 7
Yanking and twisting on the short chains, Barbara looked at Lady Prudence Ffogg, mistress of Ffogg Place. Her thighs were spread wide as she kept her gaze fixed on Barbara. One leg over the arm of the leather chair. A purple sex toy was sliding in and out of her body and her fingers massaging her clit in rhythm with the vibrator.
The sex toys lodged between her own legs were having their own effect on Barbara. The Genital Electric, 1934, even at a relatively modest setting of four, was giving her a series of bone rattling orgasms. The rustic relic of Pinky Pinkston’s estate worked from on her from the outside, while Lady Easterland’s Easter Egg stimulating her from within, and the apparent hopelessness of her predicament kept Barbara a victim of one crippling orgasm after another.
Barbara tried to scream through her gag, but little sound made it past the thick, stiff glue that held her lips together. She pushed her hips out in an attempt to get the rubber head of the vibrator off her clit, but when she backed off, it moved right back with her.
The entire time Barbara was struggling for her life, she had Prudence’s eyes laser focused on her. As she fought for her life, she made a realization. Prudence wasn’t looking into her eyes the way some other criminals, like Pirate Princess or Minerva might have. She was looking at the rising water.
The water in the pit wasn’t moving, except in response to the limited thrashing Barbara could manage. But it was still steadily advancing up the walls of the pit. It hadn’t taken long before the water was clearing Barbara’s knees and inching towards the electric cord and the ungrounded sex toy. She could feel the tingle of leaking voltage coming from the crude device and she could see the water rising towards nearly century old wiring.
Barbara could hardly tell the difference between dream and consciousness as she saw one of Prudence’s henchwomen come into the small dungeon and lean down to whisper something to her boss. Prudence slowly pulled her sex toy from between her legs and rested blissfully for a moment, fixed her panties and with a satisfied groan, got to her feet. She stood at the edge of the pit and looked down at Barbara.
“It seems there is no rest for the wicked, Batgirl. In the next ten to fifteen minutes, your goose will be cooked, or rather your pussy will be…” She dropped her sex toy into her bag and stood looking down at her victim. “Apparently, I am having a run on redheads. I have some other business to attend to at Ffogg Place.” Prudence made a cursory wiping down of her chair and the other objects she had touched while in the dungeon.
“It was lovely catching up with you, Batgirl.” She gave one of her cold aristocratic smiles and followed her henchwoman back up into the Tower of Londinium.
Barbara could hear the sound of the metal grate being closed and then the outer door to the dungeon being double locked.
Closing her eyes, Barbara thanked god that she was finally alone. The last thing she wanted to see in her life was Prudence jerking off while she dies. She was exhausted by the constant stimulation, but she couldn’t give up.
The Easterland Egg and the vintage vibrator were assaulting her inside and out, but even in the midst of multiple orgasms, something stuck in Barbara’s head…
What did Prudence mean by “a run on redheads”? Slowly through her brain fog, she realized Pepper must have turned up at Ffogg Place. But why?
The thought that Pepper was going to be subjected to whatever freak show torture devices that might be below the Cricket Pavilion woke Barbara up. She looked down between her legs and could see the water had risen to the level of the metal bar. The coiled power cord was already submerged in several places. It was a miracle she hadn’t already been electrocuted. There were only a few inches of water that separated the metal vibrator casing from the rising river water.
She wasn’t going to have much time, but she at least had a glimmer of a possibility, but now that Prudence had abandoned her vigil, there was a chance.
Forgetting about the rising water and her impending electrocution, Barbara looked at her left hand. That wrist was a tiny fraction narrower than her right. The shackles had been hand forged to fit a man’s wrist, but hundreds of years ago men tended to be much shorter than today. The slick silk of her glove lining had actually been designed for just this eventuality.
Barbara worked her thumb into the palm of her hand and closed her straightened fingers around it. Slowly she tried to pull her hand out through the gap. The crude rusted metal of manacles caught on the thin leather of the gloves. Focusing and twisting her hand around in the cuff, she could feel her wrist twisting inside the glove.
Her hand felt stuck, and it would have been much easier for her if the manacle had been held straight, yet this was all she had to work with. She was exhausted by cold water and constant sexual stimulation. But now she knew that her new friend was going to face a similarly sadistic fate.
She kept pulling hard on the manacle, her hand ached, and she could feel her thumb on the verge of dislocating. Suddenly she felt her thumb pass through the narrow restriction and her hand slipped out of the glove and it was left hanging in the manacle.
Her hand was almost numb from being held up and away from her body for so long. Her first instinct was to reach for the lock picks on her Batgirl utility belt, but her fingers were so weak she couldn’t unclip the fastener.
Instead, she realized the most important thing was to stop the metal vibrator from shorting out in the water that was still seeping into the sub-dungeon. She reached across the pit and tried to grab the power cord that led the high voltage outlet. With her neck and left arm still pinned to the wall, she realized that she couldn’t reach the power cable.
The old power cord was covered in fabric and was probably covering rotted and cracked rubber insulation. Despite her fear of getting the live electrical wire wet, Barbara had no choice but to pull on the wire wrapped around the metal bar.
With time running out she grabbed and pulled at the wire until the dangling wire was within her reach. She grabbed it and gave a hard tug, only to find there was several feet of unused slack in the wire.
It was with horror that Barbara watched the vibrator’s plug start to fall from the stone floor into the pit. Barbara’s lightning reflexes that had been conditioned to a razor’s edge was the only thing that saved her. She reached out and grabbed the falling wire and yanked it from the wall in a split second.
The now lifeless wire plunked in the dark, cold waters of the pit. The rough stimulation of the Genital Electric 1934 with a double clutch went silent. Easterland’s Egg continued to vibrate inside her, but compared to ½ horsepower power tool that had been banging away at her clit for the past hour or more, it was nothing.
Barbara yanked on the bar to dislodge from the wall and it immediately sank into the pit harmlessly. Breathing a sigh of relief she took another try at opening her Batgirl utility belt. Enough of her circulation had returned to her hand that she was finally able to get out her lock picks.
The old locks were not complicated, but unlatching them required physical force to move the mechanism, something she was sorely lacking at the moment.
The cold Thames water had continued to flood into the pit and frigid river water lapped at her pussy, bringing her fully awake. Even with her hand free she could barely reach her other wrist, but eventually, she heard the mechanism click open and she was able to release her other arm.
After shaking out her left arm, Barbara reached into the water, which had risen to hips and gently pulled on the chain attached to Lady Easterland’s Egg. The device had worked itself deep inside her body and it was still enthusiastically engaging itself with her pussy. Her sex had been thoroughly tenderized inside and out from her ordeal, so the relief of removing it was tempered with the excessively sensitive condition of her clit.
It felt good to be free of the sex toys and the manacle on her neck came away with little trouble. Peeling the gag off her mouth was relatively painful, as it was also taking with it the peach fuzz underneath.
The water had risen up to her belly by the time she was able to set to work on her ankle shackles. For those she had to submerge completely underwater and the mechanisms had been severely corroded by years of repeated submersion in briny river water.
Wet and exhausted, Barbara climbed out of the pit. She fumbled to put her glove back on and looked up at the exit to the dungeon. The metal gates and doors were going to be easy compared to her ordeal in the pit.
Barbara moved through the still silent Tower of Londinium. She found the guards still mostly asleep from Prudence’s Ffogg fog. A couple of them were starting to stir when she left the building. She was willing to bet that neither she nor Prudence’s gang were video taped entering or exiting the building, Prudence was much too experienced and cagey for that rooky mistake.
Tired as she was, Barbara knew that she needed to get to Ffogg Place. Why Pepper had gone there was a mystery, but what Prudence would do to her once caught, was not.
Batgirl slipped into the darkened subway tunnel and made her way to the abandoned tube station where her Batgirl cycle and extra costumes were stored.
As quickly as she could manage she stripped out of her destroyed catsuit and put on a fresh one. The multiple tears and holes from the pikes and the torn up crotch and stains from the mildly fetid river water made her look like a casting reject from the zombie apocalypse. She took some time to clean out her cuts and apply antibiotic patches to her several wounds.
Donning her damp boots and her clammy wet cowl, Barbara mounted her purple motorcycle, Alfred had added a yellow “bat” decals to the gas tank when he acquired it for her. For some reason he held a passive aggressive dislike for Batman’s determined defense of the Batman
trademarks. Leaving her ersatz Batcave, Barbara gunned her bike towards Ffogg Place.
Yanking and twisting on the short chains, Barbara looked at Lady Prudence Ffogg, mistress of Ffogg Place. Her thighs were spread wide as she kept her gaze fixed on Barbara. One leg over the arm of the leather chair. A purple sex toy was sliding in and out of her body and her fingers massaging her clit in rhythm with the vibrator.
The sex toys lodged between her own legs were having their own effect on Barbara. The Genital Electric, 1934, even at a relatively modest setting of four, was giving her a series of bone rattling orgasms. The rustic relic of Pinky Pinkston’s estate worked from on her from the outside, while Lady Easterland’s Easter Egg stimulating her from within, and the apparent hopelessness of her predicament kept Barbara a victim of one crippling orgasm after another.
Barbara tried to scream through her gag, but little sound made it past the thick, stiff glue that held her lips together. She pushed her hips out in an attempt to get the rubber head of the vibrator off her clit, but when she backed off, it moved right back with her.
The entire time Barbara was struggling for her life, she had Prudence’s eyes laser focused on her. As she fought for her life, she made a realization. Prudence wasn’t looking into her eyes the way some other criminals, like Pirate Princess or Minerva might have. She was looking at the rising water.
The water in the pit wasn’t moving, except in response to the limited thrashing Barbara could manage. But it was still steadily advancing up the walls of the pit. It hadn’t taken long before the water was clearing Barbara’s knees and inching towards the electric cord and the ungrounded sex toy. She could feel the tingle of leaking voltage coming from the crude device and she could see the water rising towards nearly century old wiring.
Barbara could hardly tell the difference between dream and consciousness as she saw one of Prudence’s henchwomen come into the small dungeon and lean down to whisper something to her boss. Prudence slowly pulled her sex toy from between her legs and rested blissfully for a moment, fixed her panties and with a satisfied groan, got to her feet. She stood at the edge of the pit and looked down at Barbara.
“It seems there is no rest for the wicked, Batgirl. In the next ten to fifteen minutes, your goose will be cooked, or rather your pussy will be…” She dropped her sex toy into her bag and stood looking down at her victim. “Apparently, I am having a run on redheads. I have some other business to attend to at Ffogg Place.” Prudence made a cursory wiping down of her chair and the other objects she had touched while in the dungeon.
“It was lovely catching up with you, Batgirl.” She gave one of her cold aristocratic smiles and followed her henchwoman back up into the Tower of Londinium.
Barbara could hear the sound of the metal grate being closed and then the outer door to the dungeon being double locked.
Closing her eyes, Barbara thanked god that she was finally alone. The last thing she wanted to see in her life was Prudence jerking off while she dies. She was exhausted by the constant stimulation, but she couldn’t give up.
The Easterland Egg and the vintage vibrator were assaulting her inside and out, but even in the midst of multiple orgasms, something stuck in Barbara’s head…
What did Prudence mean by “a run on redheads”? Slowly through her brain fog, she realized Pepper must have turned up at Ffogg Place. But why?
The thought that Pepper was going to be subjected to whatever freak show torture devices that might be below the Cricket Pavilion woke Barbara up. She looked down between her legs and could see the water had risen to the level of the metal bar. The coiled power cord was already submerged in several places. It was a miracle she hadn’t already been electrocuted. There were only a few inches of water that separated the metal vibrator casing from the rising river water.
She wasn’t going to have much time, but she at least had a glimmer of a possibility, but now that Prudence had abandoned her vigil, there was a chance.
Forgetting about the rising water and her impending electrocution, Barbara looked at her left hand. That wrist was a tiny fraction narrower than her right. The shackles had been hand forged to fit a man’s wrist, but hundreds of years ago men tended to be much shorter than today. The slick silk of her glove lining had actually been designed for just this eventuality.
Barbara worked her thumb into the palm of her hand and closed her straightened fingers around it. Slowly she tried to pull her hand out through the gap. The crude rusted metal of manacles caught on the thin leather of the gloves. Focusing and twisting her hand around in the cuff, she could feel her wrist twisting inside the glove.
Her hand felt stuck, and it would have been much easier for her if the manacle had been held straight, yet this was all she had to work with. She was exhausted by cold water and constant sexual stimulation. But now she knew that her new friend was going to face a similarly sadistic fate.
She kept pulling hard on the manacle, her hand ached, and she could feel her thumb on the verge of dislocating. Suddenly she felt her thumb pass through the narrow restriction and her hand slipped out of the glove and it was left hanging in the manacle.
Her hand was almost numb from being held up and away from her body for so long. Her first instinct was to reach for the lock picks on her Batgirl utility belt, but her fingers were so weak she couldn’t unclip the fastener.
Instead, she realized the most important thing was to stop the metal vibrator from shorting out in the water that was still seeping into the sub-dungeon. She reached across the pit and tried to grab the power cord that led the high voltage outlet. With her neck and left arm still pinned to the wall, she realized that she couldn’t reach the power cable.
The old power cord was covered in fabric and was probably covering rotted and cracked rubber insulation. Despite her fear of getting the live electrical wire wet, Barbara had no choice but to pull on the wire wrapped around the metal bar.
With time running out she grabbed and pulled at the wire until the dangling wire was within her reach. She grabbed it and gave a hard tug, only to find there was several feet of unused slack in the wire.
It was with horror that Barbara watched the vibrator’s plug start to fall from the stone floor into the pit. Barbara’s lightning reflexes that had been conditioned to a razor’s edge was the only thing that saved her. She reached out and grabbed the falling wire and yanked it from the wall in a split second.
The now lifeless wire plunked in the dark, cold waters of the pit. The rough stimulation of the Genital Electric 1934 with a double clutch went silent. Easterland’s Egg continued to vibrate inside her, but compared to ½ horsepower power tool that had been banging away at her clit for the past hour or more, it was nothing.
Barbara yanked on the bar to dislodge from the wall and it immediately sank into the pit harmlessly. Breathing a sigh of relief she took another try at opening her Batgirl utility belt. Enough of her circulation had returned to her hand that she was finally able to get out her lock picks.
The old locks were not complicated, but unlatching them required physical force to move the mechanism, something she was sorely lacking at the moment.
The cold Thames water had continued to flood into the pit and frigid river water lapped at her pussy, bringing her fully awake. Even with her hand free she could barely reach her other wrist, but eventually, she heard the mechanism click open and she was able to release her other arm.
After shaking out her left arm, Barbara reached into the water, which had risen to hips and gently pulled on the chain attached to Lady Easterland’s Egg. The device had worked itself deep inside her body and it was still enthusiastically engaging itself with her pussy. Her sex had been thoroughly tenderized inside and out from her ordeal, so the relief of removing it was tempered with the excessively sensitive condition of her clit.
It felt good to be free of the sex toys and the manacle on her neck came away with little trouble. Peeling the gag off her mouth was relatively painful, as it was also taking with it the peach fuzz underneath.
The water had risen up to her belly by the time she was able to set to work on her ankle shackles. For those she had to submerge completely underwater and the mechanisms had been severely corroded by years of repeated submersion in briny river water.
Wet and exhausted, Barbara climbed out of the pit. She fumbled to put her glove back on and looked up at the exit to the dungeon. The metal gates and doors were going to be easy compared to her ordeal in the pit.
Barbara moved through the still silent Tower of Londinium. She found the guards still mostly asleep from Prudence’s Ffogg fog. A couple of them were starting to stir when she left the building. She was willing to bet that neither she nor Prudence’s gang were video taped entering or exiting the building, Prudence was much too experienced and cagey for that rooky mistake.
Tired as she was, Barbara knew that she needed to get to Ffogg Place. Why Pepper had gone there was a mystery, but what Prudence would do to her once caught, was not.
Batgirl slipped into the darkened subway tunnel and made her way to the abandoned tube station where her Batgirl cycle and extra costumes were stored.
As quickly as she could manage she stripped out of her destroyed catsuit and put on a fresh one. The multiple tears and holes from the pikes and the torn up crotch and stains from the mildly fetid river water made her look like a casting reject from the zombie apocalypse. She took some time to clean out her cuts and apply antibiotic patches to her several wounds.
Donning her damp boots and her clammy wet cowl, Barbara mounted her purple motorcycle, Alfred had added a yellow “bat” decals to the gas tank when he acquired it for her. For some reason he held a passive aggressive dislike for Batman’s determined defense of the Batman
trademarks. Leaving her ersatz Batcave, Barbara gunned her bike towards Ffogg Place.
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Part 8
Meanwhile, in the dungeon beneath the old Cricket Pavillion at Ffogg Place….
Lady Prudence looked down at her most recent acquisition. A delightful redhead!
“Come now, Pepper, if that is really your name. It’s time to fess up and tell me what’s what…” Prudence had discarded her drab blue museum maintenance dress for something more suitable for the occasion, a black leather minidress, bollaro jacket, with come fuck-me pumps, stockings and a conspicuous absence of underwear.
“You were at the Lesbo A-Go-Go dancing with Barbara Gordon just the other night. Then you suddenly turn up lurking, uninvited around Ffogg Place?” Prudence rubbed the handle of her leather flogger along the cheek of her latest captive.
“I ‘on’t ‘ow what ‘ou are ‘alking about….” was all that Pepper managed to say through her thick knotted PVC gag. “I ‘as ‘rying ‘o ‘ind the ‘ervice en’rance..” Pepper realized this excuse was not working, especially now that she was tied naked with her legs spread and her wrists tied on either side of her head on the heavy wooden table. She was still groggy from the paralyzing fog that she had inadvertently triggered while crossing the lawn.
She thought of bringing up the idea of being sent to steal samples of the renowned “Aftergrass” for Bruce Wayne, but she realized the opportunity to claim that was past…
“Well, Miss Gordon is no longer with us, and soon, neither shall you…” Prudence traced the end of her flogger across Pepper’s pale white skin. She admired her captives’ long red tresses, her freckled face and shoulders and the bright inquisitive eyes that were presently wide with fear and anticipation.
“Perhaps, you were looking for the missing shipment of Lady Easterland’s missing Easter Eggs?” Prudence moved down the girl’s body. She was delightfully fit and she was a very good struggler… not that it would do her any good. Her bush had been neatly trimmed. For her friend Miss Gordon, perhaps?
“I really am looking forward to getting some answers from you… of course, you not giving me any also presents some delicious possibilities….” Prudence ran her hand up Pepper’s innerthigh, all the way to the ropes that framed her crotch. A rope went around her waist, and two ropes went around the top of each thigh with the head of one of Easterland's Hitachi knock-offs forcing the wand deep into the folds of her labia. A rope had been tied on either side of the vibrator up the waist rope, forming a tight diamond of rope below her belly button.
No matter how the girl moved, the vibrator was going to move right along with her.
Prudence felt up Pepper’s thigh. “You are an enthusiastic struggler, aren’t you? Your pussy is all wet without me having done anything… yet.” Prudence sniffed her fingers. “Of course that will just make what I have planned all the more fun…..”
Lady Prudence wheeled a cart stacked on the cart were a collection of crude electronics to the table. With a smiling efficiency, she pulled out a box of medical electrodes, and started opening them up and laying them out next to Pepper.
Seeing this Pepper started squirming uselessly in her bondage. “ ‘Ou ‘on’t et a’way w’th ‘is.” She shouted through her gag.
“Of course I will? Who’s going to stop me? Batgirl? She’s boiled Bat-bolognaise by now… Barbara Gordon is up to her neck in Londinium mud…” Prudence hesitated. “You think I am going to do some sort of sick electrocution torture?” She laughed. “No, it was Batgirl that got that treatment. For you I have something more interesting in mind…”
Prudence had a sadistic smirk on her face as she selected spots around Pepper’s body for the electrodes, several went on her inner thighs, inches from her pussy. A couple more were centered around her chest, to monitor breathing and her pulse. Several were positioned on her forehead.
“You see, Pepper-whatever-your-real-name is, I have always had a fascination with orgasms and women… you might call it a fetishization of the female orgasm… I looovvve having them, I love giving them…. Just not like most people would expect…”
As she admired her handiwork she touched herself under her short leather dress. “I have found that there is nothing more exhilarating than a female in orgasm… The French call them le petit morde, the little death…. Interestingly, I have discovered that with just a little help they can actually become the ‘grande finale’”
She looked at Pepper. “Oh, don’t get so scared… that’s not what I have planned for you at all… well not right away… How I’ll get rid of you depends entirely whether you answer my questions or not….”
“For now, I am interested in something much more prosaic and not likely to be particularly lethal, well, I don’t expect it to be. But, I have been wrong before….” Prudence spit on her finger tips and started to massage Pepper’s pussy.
Pepper moaned into her gag. Her thighs were starting to quiver, just as Prudence pulled her fingers away. She looked at the equipment screen, adjusted some of the dials and set the power meter.
“No, I am going to see how orgasm denial works as a form of torture… You do seem to be a very sexual woman… Everytime you come within seconds of cumming… the electrodes will sense the changes in your heart rate, skin moisture electrical activity and shut down this lovely pussy ravaging sex toy. No matter how excited and ready to go you are…. It will all be for naught…. Over and over and over… Unless you answer my questions…Sort of a lie detector for your pussy… except with orgasms… Now, who are you, really? Why have you been sneaking around Lesbo A-Go-Go? What is your connection with Barbara Gordon? Why did you try to break into Ffogg Place? Are you a copper?”
She laughed… “lots of really good orgasms for a lot of good answers… If not, I can keep this up for days… or we could try… more interesting means of persuasion…” Prudence gave a laugh and activated the vibrator that was pressed deep into the folds of Pepper’s labia.
At first Pepper tried to use what limited range of motion her hips had to see if she could dislodge the device from her clit, but there was no chance of doing that. Next she bucked her pelvis back and forth. The sensation was devilish; she was quickly being over stimulated, her pussy was grinding against the vibrator and within seconds she was puffing through her teeth as she bit into her gag…. Just as she was on the cusp of orgasm, she felt the vibrator go dead.
No matter how she tried to maneuver her body or her pelvis, she just couldn’t get herself over the finish line. Pepper grunted in frustration. Prudence watched from the exit touching herself in time with the frustrated bucking and grinding of her victim.
“I’ll be back in a few hours and we’ll see if this has loosened your lips as much as it has you clit.” She gave her usual casually cruel laughs. But this time it was twinged with a satisfied excitement. She turned out the light so her victim could suffer frustration in darkness.
Is Pepper’s pussy powerless against Prudence’s perversions?
Is Batgirl coming to the rescue or is there another trap laying in wait?
Find out! same Bat-channel, Same Bat-time.
Meanwhile, in the dungeon beneath the old Cricket Pavillion at Ffogg Place….
Lady Prudence looked down at her most recent acquisition. A delightful redhead!
“Come now, Pepper, if that is really your name. It’s time to fess up and tell me what’s what…” Prudence had discarded her drab blue museum maintenance dress for something more suitable for the occasion, a black leather minidress, bollaro jacket, with come fuck-me pumps, stockings and a conspicuous absence of underwear.
“You were at the Lesbo A-Go-Go dancing with Barbara Gordon just the other night. Then you suddenly turn up lurking, uninvited around Ffogg Place?” Prudence rubbed the handle of her leather flogger along the cheek of her latest captive.
“I ‘on’t ‘ow what ‘ou are ‘alking about….” was all that Pepper managed to say through her thick knotted PVC gag. “I ‘as ‘rying ‘o ‘ind the ‘ervice en’rance..” Pepper realized this excuse was not working, especially now that she was tied naked with her legs spread and her wrists tied on either side of her head on the heavy wooden table. She was still groggy from the paralyzing fog that she had inadvertently triggered while crossing the lawn.
She thought of bringing up the idea of being sent to steal samples of the renowned “Aftergrass” for Bruce Wayne, but she realized the opportunity to claim that was past…
“Well, Miss Gordon is no longer with us, and soon, neither shall you…” Prudence traced the end of her flogger across Pepper’s pale white skin. She admired her captives’ long red tresses, her freckled face and shoulders and the bright inquisitive eyes that were presently wide with fear and anticipation.
“Perhaps, you were looking for the missing shipment of Lady Easterland’s missing Easter Eggs?” Prudence moved down the girl’s body. She was delightfully fit and she was a very good struggler… not that it would do her any good. Her bush had been neatly trimmed. For her friend Miss Gordon, perhaps?
“I really am looking forward to getting some answers from you… of course, you not giving me any also presents some delicious possibilities….” Prudence ran her hand up Pepper’s innerthigh, all the way to the ropes that framed her crotch. A rope went around her waist, and two ropes went around the top of each thigh with the head of one of Easterland's Hitachi knock-offs forcing the wand deep into the folds of her labia. A rope had been tied on either side of the vibrator up the waist rope, forming a tight diamond of rope below her belly button.
No matter how the girl moved, the vibrator was going to move right along with her.
Prudence felt up Pepper’s thigh. “You are an enthusiastic struggler, aren’t you? Your pussy is all wet without me having done anything… yet.” Prudence sniffed her fingers. “Of course that will just make what I have planned all the more fun…..”
Lady Prudence wheeled a cart stacked on the cart were a collection of crude electronics to the table. With a smiling efficiency, she pulled out a box of medical electrodes, and started opening them up and laying them out next to Pepper.
Seeing this Pepper started squirming uselessly in her bondage. “ ‘Ou ‘on’t et a’way w’th ‘is.” She shouted through her gag.
“Of course I will? Who’s going to stop me? Batgirl? She’s boiled Bat-bolognaise by now… Barbara Gordon is up to her neck in Londinium mud…” Prudence hesitated. “You think I am going to do some sort of sick electrocution torture?” She laughed. “No, it was Batgirl that got that treatment. For you I have something more interesting in mind…”
Prudence had a sadistic smirk on her face as she selected spots around Pepper’s body for the electrodes, several went on her inner thighs, inches from her pussy. A couple more were centered around her chest, to monitor breathing and her pulse. Several were positioned on her forehead.
“You see, Pepper-whatever-your-real-name is, I have always had a fascination with orgasms and women… you might call it a fetishization of the female orgasm… I looovvve having them, I love giving them…. Just not like most people would expect…”
As she admired her handiwork she touched herself under her short leather dress. “I have found that there is nothing more exhilarating than a female in orgasm… The French call them le petit morde, the little death…. Interestingly, I have discovered that with just a little help they can actually become the ‘grande finale’”
She looked at Pepper. “Oh, don’t get so scared… that’s not what I have planned for you at all… well not right away… How I’ll get rid of you depends entirely whether you answer my questions or not….”
“For now, I am interested in something much more prosaic and not likely to be particularly lethal, well, I don’t expect it to be. But, I have been wrong before….” Prudence spit on her finger tips and started to massage Pepper’s pussy.
Pepper moaned into her gag. Her thighs were starting to quiver, just as Prudence pulled her fingers away. She looked at the equipment screen, adjusted some of the dials and set the power meter.
“No, I am going to see how orgasm denial works as a form of torture… You do seem to be a very sexual woman… Everytime you come within seconds of cumming… the electrodes will sense the changes in your heart rate, skin moisture electrical activity and shut down this lovely pussy ravaging sex toy. No matter how excited and ready to go you are…. It will all be for naught…. Over and over and over… Unless you answer my questions…Sort of a lie detector for your pussy… except with orgasms… Now, who are you, really? Why have you been sneaking around Lesbo A-Go-Go? What is your connection with Barbara Gordon? Why did you try to break into Ffogg Place? Are you a copper?”
She laughed… “lots of really good orgasms for a lot of good answers… If not, I can keep this up for days… or we could try… more interesting means of persuasion…” Prudence gave a laugh and activated the vibrator that was pressed deep into the folds of Pepper’s labia.
At first Pepper tried to use what limited range of motion her hips had to see if she could dislodge the device from her clit, but there was no chance of doing that. Next she bucked her pelvis back and forth. The sensation was devilish; she was quickly being over stimulated, her pussy was grinding against the vibrator and within seconds she was puffing through her teeth as she bit into her gag…. Just as she was on the cusp of orgasm, she felt the vibrator go dead.
No matter how she tried to maneuver her body or her pelvis, she just couldn’t get herself over the finish line. Pepper grunted in frustration. Prudence watched from the exit touching herself in time with the frustrated bucking and grinding of her victim.
“I’ll be back in a few hours and we’ll see if this has loosened your lips as much as it has you clit.” She gave her usual casually cruel laughs. But this time it was twinged with a satisfied excitement. She turned out the light so her victim could suffer frustration in darkness.
Is Pepper’s pussy powerless against Prudence’s perversions?
Is Batgirl coming to the rescue or is there another trap laying in wait?
Find out! same Bat-channel, Same Bat-time.
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
I am wrapping up this adventure. I decided to include the denouement in this post. For the Penelope Pitstop fans, I am working on a new story. It is a little different than my other Penelope stories, because I was taking different look at how her universe was structures and what the motives were and how it relates to the Wacky Races Universe. I may make a post just to explain my convoluted and unnecessarily complicated over thinking of the matter before I actually start posting the story. I have already written the first few chapters, so I am pretty certain the whole thing will get written to completion....
As always, Post your thoughts and comments below. Lady Prudence was have been a great foil for Batgirl had the fourth season ever been produced. Admittedly I can't see 1960s TV taking it where I went, but they certainly weren't beyond putting in some pretty arcane and incongruent attitudes. The amount of homoerotic/BDSM subtext in the show must have been quite the fetish fuel for otherwise heavily repressed young gay men of the day.
As always, Post your thoughts and comments below. Lady Prudence was have been a great foil for Batgirl had the fourth season ever been produced. Admittedly I can't see 1960s TV taking it where I went, but they certainly weren't beyond putting in some pretty arcane and incongruent attitudes. The amount of homoerotic/BDSM subtext in the show must have been quite the fetish fuel for otherwise heavily repressed young gay men of the day.
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Part 9
Barbara was tired. The wind raced across her cowl, helping to dry it. Her boots were still somewhat squishy, but she needed to get to Ffogg Place. Somehow, Pepper had gotten it into her head to go snooping around Prudence’s trap infested property.
Worse yet, the Ffoggs had used it as an illicit sex retreat for possibly centuries. Barbara had first hand experience in the sex dungeon under the Cricket Pavillion, but she had no idea what other secrets were hidden in the dark recesses of the main house or other building around the property.
If Pepper had been captured by Lady Prudence and her gang, where would they take her? Prudence would almost certainly interrogate her, before subjecting her to some grisly fate. Now that Barbara and her gang were responsible for the killings attributed to the Redchapel Ripper, Pepper’s fate would be sealed if Batgirl couldn’t get to her soon.
Barbara rode her Batgirl cycle through the Londinium countryside to the outskirts of the walled estate. She avoided the main gate. She knew it had cameras and a little guard shack to that was almost certainly manned.
How many people worked for the Ffoggs? Most of the male thugs had disappeared when Marmaduke had been arrested and Penelope Peasoup had left for Gotham with about a half dozen gang members when she tried to set up her Crime School for Girls in Gotham.
Prudence was trying to reestablish her gang amongst the crowded line-up of Londinium girl gangs vying to fill the vacuum created by the collapse created by the arrests of the Ffoggs.
Barbare guessed that Prudence only had maybe a half dozen hardcore members and maybe 20 or so hangers-on that were sometimes participants, spying and informing for her. Ffogg Place held all the secrets, only Prudence’s inner circle would be allowed free reign inside it’s walls. And they can’t be everywhere at once…
Barbara climbed on the seat of her motorcycle and balanced on it for a second before leaping at the wall into Ffogg Place. She clung to the top of the wall and easily pulled herself on top. She looked back and the little bike had tipped over next to the wall behind a bush.
Lowering herself down the inside wall around Ffogg Place, Barbara landed on the soft, dew softened Aftergrass, Bruce Wayne spent so much time talking about on the five day voyage back to Gotham.
She found him boring as all fuck, but the grass really did very nice as she landed and rolled across it. Maybe Daddy should look at getting some for his house…
Barbara made her way across the open lawn to the Cricket Pavillion. Ffogg Place was showing the signs of neglect. Prudence had only returned to the property recently and it had been a few years since Marmaduke and Penelope had been arrested. She was betting that Prudence had been focused on bringing the Londinium underworld back to heel rather than spending thousands of pounds on returning Ffogg Place to it’s former glory.
The only fog that rolled across the property was the one that occurred naturally. The property was deserted with only a few lights on at the manor house, some perimeter lights and the Cricket Pavillion. The door to the Cricket Pavillion was invitingly ajar, but Batgirl had no intention of taking the bait.
Instead, she worked her way around behind the building and found the main gas control. The same one that Prudence had used to protect the Ffogg’s illicit booty and trap Batgirl in the dungeon. She quietly closed the valve and deactivated the system before sneaking in through a skylight.
Once inside, Barbara found stacks of crates all marked with the logo of Lady Easterland’s signature line of sex toys. The rest of the illicit loot Prudence had acquired was probably in here, too, but Barbara was more interested in finding her friend than recovering ancient sex tokens and whatever else Prudence had stolen since being released from Slutmoor Prison.
Barbara remembered the entrance to the dungeon under the Pavillion and wasted no time in picking the lock and disabling a rather poorly designed alarm system. Given time, Prudence would certainly have made some upgrades, but it seemed that whatever she had arranged had been enough to capture Pepper.
Once she was through the door, she looked from the upper landing and saw Pepper, strapped to a bondage table and writhing to escape.
Even from up the other side of the chamber, she could hear the electric buzz of the wand that was snugged between her legs.
Barbara wasted no time lept down to the dungeon floor and made her way to Pepper. Even befor she reached her, the buzzing stopped and Pepper was grinding her hips against the electric wand giving a frustrated scream from her gagged mouth.
Pulling the gag from Pepper’s mouth, Barbara could see the anguish in her face.
“Barbara…. Please… Please… finish me….” Tears were rolling from Pepper’s eyes.
“Wha’ what do you mean?” Barbara was shocked that Pepper was calling her by her real name and asking for something so terrible….
“Make me cum… I can’t take it… the frustration is killing me….” Pepper’s hips were grinding against the dead head of the sex toy, deprived once again of a tantalizingly close orgasm. “Please. This is driving me crazy…”
It took Barbara a second to realize what Pepper really wanted and another second for her to get over the weirdly inappropriateness of the request.
Barbara reached down and put her fingers on the head of her clit, and gave her friend a few gentle strokes and could feel Pepper being thrust into a rapid string of orgasms… one after another as all her pent up sexual energy came out in gushing orgasm after gushing orgasm.
After a few moments Pepper wilted back into the table. Her body fell limp against her bonds.
“Oh, my god….” She looked up at Barbara, “I really needed that…”
Pepper lay limp and almost motionless as Barbara unbuckled the medical restraints that held down.
“Why did you call me Barbara?” Barbara was busted, but she wasn’t going to give up without at least some protest.
Laying naked and still blissfully glowing from the rapid and intense sexual release. Pepper looked up at Batgirl. “I knew who you were all along… sorry I blew your cover…” Pepper, now that her arms were free, sat up on the table rubbing blood back into her extremities as Barbara continued to undo her bondage.
“How?” Barbara had only met Pepper a day ago, but somehow figured out, during a session sexual torture that she was also Batgirl.
“We met briefly when you were in Londinium the first time.” Pepper was slipping off the table and wiped herself down with a towel that had been laying nearby. My Step-father is Chief Inspector Watson. The moment I saw you, I realized you were my doppleganger… A father that wants to keep you away from the dangers of crime fighting… all the physical and mental preparations, and he wants you safe in a library. My dad insisted I ended up in the British Museum, far from any real action or danger.”
“Nobody becomes a collegiate champion in martial arts and has some of the high profile girlfriends you’ve had… And I am satisfied with shelving books.” Pepper reached for her clothes, a pair of brown leather booty shorts, a matching leather vest and knee high boots. “You are too fucking accomplished to be just slumming around a library all day.”
“I was already investigating the Lesbo A-Go-Go when you showed up the other night. I knew Lady Prudence was out for you when I pulled you onto the dance floor. I didn’t think she would go after you so fast, but I didn’t realize they were running on a tight schedule. Prudence already planned the truck heist.”
Pepper finished pulling on her boots and zipping them up. “I think you saved my life… If Prudence and her gang had realized that I was on to them, she would have put me in that teacup and I doubt I would have lasted as long as you did. It took me a while to realize where they were taking you and to get up onto the roof.”
“I am sure we can remedy that oversight…” Prudence and four of her hench women were standing at the top of the dungeon stairs, blocking the only exit. “Batgirl, you continue to be delightfully difficult to kill.” Prudence was still dressed in latex-slut-coutour outfit. Her four minions were in matching pleated mini skirts and white blouses and saddle shoes.. Each one carried a metal short sword and a small gladiatorial shield.
“Five against two, Batgirl… I thought I would make it sporting. I had the fuck chair repaired…. Just for you…” Prudence directed her four hench women at the two heroines. “Alive if possible, but don’t dead if necessary.”
With that, the four young women leapt down to the floor of the dungeon and started to encircle the two heroines. Barbara instinctively moved back to keep as much distance as she could between the swords and herself. Pepper pulled back, closing ranks with Batgirl, the better to defend themselves.
Barbara made her way over to an unlit brazer. On the side of the dungeon floor. She grabbed one of the metal pokers from it and tossed it to Pepper. “Catch” she shouted and then pulled another poker for herself from the brazer.
Now armed, Batgirl and Pepper rushed the four women. Despite having shields and blades, the four broke off their attack and formed a defensive cluster in the open space of the dungeon. Barbara knew that she and Pepper were going to have the upperhand. Pepper, following Barbara’s lead, rushed at the four warriors, raising the metal spike and swinging hard to force the women to break off their attack.
Her first swing made contact with a metal shield. The girl holding had not been ready for the ferocity of the attack lost her grip on the shield, even so, she took a swipe at Pepper with her sword, which Pepper easily dodged.
Barbara, who had some weapons training and some practical experience with Olga’s scimitar wielding Cossacks was easily able to parry the criminal college girls' attacks and disarmed them one at a time.
With her gang defeated, Prudence grabbed one of the discarded swords off the floor and was backing towards the stair.
Barbara moved to cut off her retreat, while Pepper faced off against her.
“She’s mine, Batgirl” Pepper could have picked up a fresh weapon from the ground, but stuck with the crude iron poker she had been using. She made a feinted attack, caught the short blade against her piece of iron and in one move sent the sword flying out of Prudence’s hand and out of reach.
Pepper dropped her weapon and moved in on Prudence.
“Prudence…” Pepper assumed a fighting stance with the intention of ending the fight shortly.
“Next time you tie someone up…” She launched a rounding kick into the villain’s side. Prudence partially doubled over.
“Make…” Pepper landed a second hit with a solid jab to her face.
“Sure…” A second sweeping kick that knocked Prudence’s legs out from under her.
“That…” Prudence was now on the ground. She was stunned by the ferocity of the attack as Pepper gave her a right cross to the chin.
“They…” Prudence was no longer able to fight back, much less defend herself.
“Cum…” Pepper followed through with a left jab that connected solidly just below Prudence’s eye.
“Easy there, Cowgirl….” Barbara was collecting the weapons the gang had discarded.
“Sorry, I’ve been a little frustrated this evening….” Pepper looked down at her swelling knuckles. “I never barefisted anyone before.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Part 10
Barbara was relieved to have someplace to hang out her last couple of days in Londium. Pepper’s apartment wasn’t big, but it was more spacious than her hotel room had been.
Barbara looked at Pepper’s hand. Her knuckles were swollen and the bruises were going to take days to go away.
“If you are going to pursue this vigilante crime fighting thing, can I give you a few suggestions?” Barbara pressed the bag of frozen peas back over the injured fist.
“Sure.” Pepper winced in pain as the ice cold vegetables closed around hand.
“First, buy some ice trays and a proper ice bag. No one is going to want to eat your repeatedly thawed and refrozen peas. It’s a little disgusting.”
“Noted,” Pepper had been thinking the same thing when she brought out the bag the second and then third time.
“Second, buy some proper gloves so when you punch someone in the face you don’t break your hand. The idea is to make the other guy go to the hospital, not yourself. I have a lady, Edna. She makes fantastic gloves and kit. I get her number for you. Her prices are pretty reasonable and she doesn’t charge much extra if you want something custom. Just be careful not to mention capes, she hates capes.”
“You have a cape…”
“Yes, but as she put it, ‘it is short, fun, flirty and accents your ass very nicely.’” Barbara had always loved that comment and had so few people to share it with. “Catwoman uses her, too.”
“Catwoman?” Pepper’s ears perked up at a name she recognized. “You know Catwoman?”
“Sort of… it’s complicated…” Barbara wasn’t interested in explaining how complicated.
“Isn’t she considered an Arch-Criminal?” Pepper was momentarily distracted from the pain in her hand.
“Well sort of…”
“Is she a frenemy?” Pepper wanted to lean in to see if there was any juice to squeeze. “Frenemy with benefits?”
Barbara snorted back her laugh, “Sort of, it’s complicated….”
Just then there was a knock on the door of Pepper’s flat. She got up and went to the door.
“Hello Papa! What brings you here?” Pepper ushered Chief Inspector Watson into her living room.
“Well, I understand Miss Gordon has been staying with you the last several days and I wanted to come by and personally extend my apologies for not having gotten back to her sooner.” He took off his tweed coat and hung it by the door.
He shook Barbara’s hand with a small bow and sat down on a chair across from the two ladies. “We have had a bloody awful time with these Londinium Girl Gangs since Lady Prudence was released from Slutmoor Prison, I just haven’t had the time to take care of any of my more social duties. I hope your Father is well, Miss Gordon…”
“He sends his best, but I was wanting to tell you about something I learned about the Tipton Tea Sign above the Let’s Go A-Go-Go.”
“You mean Lady Prudence, using it to get rid of her girl-gang competitors? We received an anonymous tip about that just a few hours after your call…” Chief Inspector Watson was starting to load his pipe when he caught Pepper giving him a cross look. He immediately pushed it back into his pocket. “We have a tipster that calls in with remarkably prescient tips every now and again. It’s almost like she knows exactly what we need for our cases…”
“She?” Barbara glanced at pepper.
“Well, I’ve never talked with her, but she has been calling in tips for sometime now. Quite accurate, almost like she is out there running leads for the Yard.”
“It sounds like you should hire her…” Barbara gave Pepper a wink.
“Oh, we could never do that… Crime fighting is not for the fairer folk, much too dangerous. That’s why I made sure Pepper was able to get a steady job at the British Museum, at least until she finds a man that can properly take care of her…”
“But, Inspector Watson, I thought I heard that Batgirl turned up and actually captured Lady Prudence and her gang?” Barbara was used to this game, she played it often enough with her own father.
“Yes, well that was fortuitous, but I think we would have eventually been able to stop her crime spree with the venerable talents of Her Majesty’s Ireland Yard.” With that Watson stood up and moved to get his coat. “Have a lovely rest of your stay in Londinium, Miss Gordon… I doubt you will have a better tour guide than Pepper.”
“Oh, yesss, Pepper has shown me quite a few sights over the last couple of days.”
Finis
Barbara was tired. The wind raced across her cowl, helping to dry it. Her boots were still somewhat squishy, but she needed to get to Ffogg Place. Somehow, Pepper had gotten it into her head to go snooping around Prudence’s trap infested property.
Worse yet, the Ffoggs had used it as an illicit sex retreat for possibly centuries. Barbara had first hand experience in the sex dungeon under the Cricket Pavillion, but she had no idea what other secrets were hidden in the dark recesses of the main house or other building around the property.
If Pepper had been captured by Lady Prudence and her gang, where would they take her? Prudence would almost certainly interrogate her, before subjecting her to some grisly fate. Now that Barbara and her gang were responsible for the killings attributed to the Redchapel Ripper, Pepper’s fate would be sealed if Batgirl couldn’t get to her soon.
Barbara rode her Batgirl cycle through the Londinium countryside to the outskirts of the walled estate. She avoided the main gate. She knew it had cameras and a little guard shack to that was almost certainly manned.
How many people worked for the Ffoggs? Most of the male thugs had disappeared when Marmaduke had been arrested and Penelope Peasoup had left for Gotham with about a half dozen gang members when she tried to set up her Crime School for Girls in Gotham.
Prudence was trying to reestablish her gang amongst the crowded line-up of Londinium girl gangs vying to fill the vacuum created by the collapse created by the arrests of the Ffoggs.
Barbare guessed that Prudence only had maybe a half dozen hardcore members and maybe 20 or so hangers-on that were sometimes participants, spying and informing for her. Ffogg Place held all the secrets, only Prudence’s inner circle would be allowed free reign inside it’s walls. And they can’t be everywhere at once…
Barbara climbed on the seat of her motorcycle and balanced on it for a second before leaping at the wall into Ffogg Place. She clung to the top of the wall and easily pulled herself on top. She looked back and the little bike had tipped over next to the wall behind a bush.
Lowering herself down the inside wall around Ffogg Place, Barbara landed on the soft, dew softened Aftergrass, Bruce Wayne spent so much time talking about on the five day voyage back to Gotham.
She found him boring as all fuck, but the grass really did very nice as she landed and rolled across it. Maybe Daddy should look at getting some for his house…
Barbara made her way across the open lawn to the Cricket Pavillion. Ffogg Place was showing the signs of neglect. Prudence had only returned to the property recently and it had been a few years since Marmaduke and Penelope had been arrested. She was betting that Prudence had been focused on bringing the Londinium underworld back to heel rather than spending thousands of pounds on returning Ffogg Place to it’s former glory.
The only fog that rolled across the property was the one that occurred naturally. The property was deserted with only a few lights on at the manor house, some perimeter lights and the Cricket Pavillion. The door to the Cricket Pavillion was invitingly ajar, but Batgirl had no intention of taking the bait.
Instead, she worked her way around behind the building and found the main gas control. The same one that Prudence had used to protect the Ffogg’s illicit booty and trap Batgirl in the dungeon. She quietly closed the valve and deactivated the system before sneaking in through a skylight.
Once inside, Barbara found stacks of crates all marked with the logo of Lady Easterland’s signature line of sex toys. The rest of the illicit loot Prudence had acquired was probably in here, too, but Barbara was more interested in finding her friend than recovering ancient sex tokens and whatever else Prudence had stolen since being released from Slutmoor Prison.
Barbara remembered the entrance to the dungeon under the Pavillion and wasted no time in picking the lock and disabling a rather poorly designed alarm system. Given time, Prudence would certainly have made some upgrades, but it seemed that whatever she had arranged had been enough to capture Pepper.
Once she was through the door, she looked from the upper landing and saw Pepper, strapped to a bondage table and writhing to escape.
Even from up the other side of the chamber, she could hear the electric buzz of the wand that was snugged between her legs.
Barbara wasted no time lept down to the dungeon floor and made her way to Pepper. Even befor she reached her, the buzzing stopped and Pepper was grinding her hips against the electric wand giving a frustrated scream from her gagged mouth.
Pulling the gag from Pepper’s mouth, Barbara could see the anguish in her face.
“Barbara…. Please… Please… finish me….” Tears were rolling from Pepper’s eyes.
“Wha’ what do you mean?” Barbara was shocked that Pepper was calling her by her real name and asking for something so terrible….
“Make me cum… I can’t take it… the frustration is killing me….” Pepper’s hips were grinding against the dead head of the sex toy, deprived once again of a tantalizingly close orgasm. “Please. This is driving me crazy…”
It took Barbara a second to realize what Pepper really wanted and another second for her to get over the weirdly inappropriateness of the request.
Barbara reached down and put her fingers on the head of her clit, and gave her friend a few gentle strokes and could feel Pepper being thrust into a rapid string of orgasms… one after another as all her pent up sexual energy came out in gushing orgasm after gushing orgasm.
After a few moments Pepper wilted back into the table. Her body fell limp against her bonds.
“Oh, my god….” She looked up at Barbara, “I really needed that…”
Pepper lay limp and almost motionless as Barbara unbuckled the medical restraints that held down.
“Why did you call me Barbara?” Barbara was busted, but she wasn’t going to give up without at least some protest.
Laying naked and still blissfully glowing from the rapid and intense sexual release. Pepper looked up at Batgirl. “I knew who you were all along… sorry I blew your cover…” Pepper, now that her arms were free, sat up on the table rubbing blood back into her extremities as Barbara continued to undo her bondage.
“How?” Barbara had only met Pepper a day ago, but somehow figured out, during a session sexual torture that she was also Batgirl.
“We met briefly when you were in Londinium the first time.” Pepper was slipping off the table and wiped herself down with a towel that had been laying nearby. My Step-father is Chief Inspector Watson. The moment I saw you, I realized you were my doppleganger… A father that wants to keep you away from the dangers of crime fighting… all the physical and mental preparations, and he wants you safe in a library. My dad insisted I ended up in the British Museum, far from any real action or danger.”
“Nobody becomes a collegiate champion in martial arts and has some of the high profile girlfriends you’ve had… And I am satisfied with shelving books.” Pepper reached for her clothes, a pair of brown leather booty shorts, a matching leather vest and knee high boots. “You are too fucking accomplished to be just slumming around a library all day.”
“I was already investigating the Lesbo A-Go-Go when you showed up the other night. I knew Lady Prudence was out for you when I pulled you onto the dance floor. I didn’t think she would go after you so fast, but I didn’t realize they were running on a tight schedule. Prudence already planned the truck heist.”
Pepper finished pulling on her boots and zipping them up. “I think you saved my life… If Prudence and her gang had realized that I was on to them, she would have put me in that teacup and I doubt I would have lasted as long as you did. It took me a while to realize where they were taking you and to get up onto the roof.”
“I am sure we can remedy that oversight…” Prudence and four of her hench women were standing at the top of the dungeon stairs, blocking the only exit. “Batgirl, you continue to be delightfully difficult to kill.” Prudence was still dressed in latex-slut-coutour outfit. Her four minions were in matching pleated mini skirts and white blouses and saddle shoes.. Each one carried a metal short sword and a small gladiatorial shield.
“Five against two, Batgirl… I thought I would make it sporting. I had the fuck chair repaired…. Just for you…” Prudence directed her four hench women at the two heroines. “Alive if possible, but don’t dead if necessary.”
With that, the four young women leapt down to the floor of the dungeon and started to encircle the two heroines. Barbara instinctively moved back to keep as much distance as she could between the swords and herself. Pepper pulled back, closing ranks with Batgirl, the better to defend themselves.
Barbara made her way over to an unlit brazer. On the side of the dungeon floor. She grabbed one of the metal pokers from it and tossed it to Pepper. “Catch” she shouted and then pulled another poker for herself from the brazer.
Now armed, Batgirl and Pepper rushed the four women. Despite having shields and blades, the four broke off their attack and formed a defensive cluster in the open space of the dungeon. Barbara knew that she and Pepper were going to have the upperhand. Pepper, following Barbara’s lead, rushed at the four warriors, raising the metal spike and swinging hard to force the women to break off their attack.
Her first swing made contact with a metal shield. The girl holding had not been ready for the ferocity of the attack lost her grip on the shield, even so, she took a swipe at Pepper with her sword, which Pepper easily dodged.
Barbara, who had some weapons training and some practical experience with Olga’s scimitar wielding Cossacks was easily able to parry the criminal college girls' attacks and disarmed them one at a time.
With her gang defeated, Prudence grabbed one of the discarded swords off the floor and was backing towards the stair.
Barbara moved to cut off her retreat, while Pepper faced off against her.
“She’s mine, Batgirl” Pepper could have picked up a fresh weapon from the ground, but stuck with the crude iron poker she had been using. She made a feinted attack, caught the short blade against her piece of iron and in one move sent the sword flying out of Prudence’s hand and out of reach.
Pepper dropped her weapon and moved in on Prudence.
“Prudence…” Pepper assumed a fighting stance with the intention of ending the fight shortly.
“Next time you tie someone up…” She launched a rounding kick into the villain’s side. Prudence partially doubled over.
“Make…” Pepper landed a second hit with a solid jab to her face.
“Sure…” A second sweeping kick that knocked Prudence’s legs out from under her.
“That…” Prudence was now on the ground. She was stunned by the ferocity of the attack as Pepper gave her a right cross to the chin.
“They…” Prudence was no longer able to fight back, much less defend herself.
“Cum…” Pepper followed through with a left jab that connected solidly just below Prudence’s eye.
“Easy there, Cowgirl….” Barbara was collecting the weapons the gang had discarded.
“Sorry, I’ve been a little frustrated this evening….” Pepper looked down at her swelling knuckles. “I never barefisted anyone before.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Part 10
Barbara was relieved to have someplace to hang out her last couple of days in Londium. Pepper’s apartment wasn’t big, but it was more spacious than her hotel room had been.
Barbara looked at Pepper’s hand. Her knuckles were swollen and the bruises were going to take days to go away.
“If you are going to pursue this vigilante crime fighting thing, can I give you a few suggestions?” Barbara pressed the bag of frozen peas back over the injured fist.
“Sure.” Pepper winced in pain as the ice cold vegetables closed around hand.
“First, buy some ice trays and a proper ice bag. No one is going to want to eat your repeatedly thawed and refrozen peas. It’s a little disgusting.”
“Noted,” Pepper had been thinking the same thing when she brought out the bag the second and then third time.
“Second, buy some proper gloves so when you punch someone in the face you don’t break your hand. The idea is to make the other guy go to the hospital, not yourself. I have a lady, Edna. She makes fantastic gloves and kit. I get her number for you. Her prices are pretty reasonable and she doesn’t charge much extra if you want something custom. Just be careful not to mention capes, she hates capes.”
“You have a cape…”
“Yes, but as she put it, ‘it is short, fun, flirty and accents your ass very nicely.’” Barbara had always loved that comment and had so few people to share it with. “Catwoman uses her, too.”
“Catwoman?” Pepper’s ears perked up at a name she recognized. “You know Catwoman?”
“Sort of… it’s complicated…” Barbara wasn’t interested in explaining how complicated.
“Isn’t she considered an Arch-Criminal?” Pepper was momentarily distracted from the pain in her hand.
“Well sort of…”
“Is she a frenemy?” Pepper wanted to lean in to see if there was any juice to squeeze. “Frenemy with benefits?”
Barbara snorted back her laugh, “Sort of, it’s complicated….”
Just then there was a knock on the door of Pepper’s flat. She got up and went to the door.
“Hello Papa! What brings you here?” Pepper ushered Chief Inspector Watson into her living room.
“Well, I understand Miss Gordon has been staying with you the last several days and I wanted to come by and personally extend my apologies for not having gotten back to her sooner.” He took off his tweed coat and hung it by the door.
He shook Barbara’s hand with a small bow and sat down on a chair across from the two ladies. “We have had a bloody awful time with these Londinium Girl Gangs since Lady Prudence was released from Slutmoor Prison, I just haven’t had the time to take care of any of my more social duties. I hope your Father is well, Miss Gordon…”
“He sends his best, but I was wanting to tell you about something I learned about the Tipton Tea Sign above the Let’s Go A-Go-Go.”
“You mean Lady Prudence, using it to get rid of her girl-gang competitors? We received an anonymous tip about that just a few hours after your call…” Chief Inspector Watson was starting to load his pipe when he caught Pepper giving him a cross look. He immediately pushed it back into his pocket. “We have a tipster that calls in with remarkably prescient tips every now and again. It’s almost like she knows exactly what we need for our cases…”
“She?” Barbara glanced at pepper.
“Well, I’ve never talked with her, but she has been calling in tips for sometime now. Quite accurate, almost like she is out there running leads for the Yard.”
“It sounds like you should hire her…” Barbara gave Pepper a wink.
“Oh, we could never do that… Crime fighting is not for the fairer folk, much too dangerous. That’s why I made sure Pepper was able to get a steady job at the British Museum, at least until she finds a man that can properly take care of her…”
“But, Inspector Watson, I thought I heard that Batgirl turned up and actually captured Lady Prudence and her gang?” Barbara was used to this game, she played it often enough with her own father.
“Yes, well that was fortuitous, but I think we would have eventually been able to stop her crime spree with the venerable talents of Her Majesty’s Ireland Yard.” With that Watson stood up and moved to get his coat. “Have a lovely rest of your stay in Londinium, Miss Gordon… I doubt you will have a better tour guide than Pepper.”
“Oh, yesss, Pepper has shown me quite a few sights over the last couple of days.”
Finis
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
Lady Prudence should have had some paralyzing fog pellets. Then she could have sat back and seen how the two would have enjoyed their stay at Ffogg Place. Pleasure before business.
Re: Batgirl and the Lesbo A-Go-Go
All good stories have to come to an end... I when I was writing it I was keeping Pepper in mind as a spinoff character, so she might one day have a solo adventure...