HOW I SPENT MY SUMMER VACATION
Part 1
By Flexman
THIS STORY IS A PARODY. Batgirl and Huntress are owned by DC Comics. This is a not for profit story. No one under eighteen should read this story.
Send comments to Flexman3@hotmail.com
The sales manager watch the kid finish logging in his sales tickets.
"Hey Riley, you ever think about blowing off college and coming to work here full time?" he asked.
"No way dude, I have a master plan."
"Come on, don't be a sap. Look how much commission your making working here part time. You graduate from high school in a week, you ever think how much you'd be hauling in if you start doing this full time?"
Riley shrugged. "Never thought about."
"Well think about it! You’re going to waste four years when you can be here earning real money. You know how much college costs? Does your old man have anything put away to pay for this master plan of yours?"
Riley smiled. "My father doesn't have shit for me. I don't think he even knows I go to school, but it doesn't matter, I don't need him. I got all A’s in school, I made class valedictorian. Class valedictorians don't have to worry about paying for college, I already have a few grants lined up and I've been accepted at Gotham University, I start in the fall."
"Greats, that's the thanks I get. What were you before I met you?"
Riley thought about it. "As smart as I am now."
"But you looked like a geek, bad haircut, thick frame glasses and no sense of style. I took you to the hair stylist, I talked you in to getting the wire rim glasses, I taught you how to talk to people and look cool."
"Yeah and I appreciate it, but don't go off the deep end. You made out pretty good. I generated a lot of sales for you. You got a good return on your investment. Besides, like I said, I have a master plan. I go to college, get degrees in computer science and electrical engineering, graduate at the top of my class, and get a top design job at one of the manufacturers. I don't just want to sell this shit; I want to dream it up. I want to be on the cutting edge of electronics."
The sales manger shook his head as he walked away.
My name is Riley Parkin. I'm eighteen years old and in a week I graduate from high school. Up until about a year ago my life was shit, I mean really, life had been pissing on me for a long time. My mother split when I was twelve. Haven't seen or heard from her since. My father doesn't think much of me. I'm not the great athlete he was in school, just the opposite, so he's very aloof and distant. Not only doesn't he know anything about my life, I don't think he gives a shit; we're just two strangers living in the same house. My older sister and I never got along. She thinks I'm an embarrassment and keeps calling me a freak. Tries not to have anything to do with me. To tell you the truth, I am a geek. I'm a loner with no real friends, never been in to sports and my only sexual experience is with nude magazines, erotic novels, porn DVDs and my own right hand.
It's not all that bad; I do have some things going for me. I'm a genius. No, really, they gave me a test in school once and it showed my IQ was up in the stratosphere. Having grown up pretty much alone, I'm also very self-reliant. I can take care of myself. I know how to cook, do my own laundry and clean up after myself. Bullies never bothered me, I had a way around that. I made a deal with the football coach. The coach had this championship team but some of his superstar players were going to become academically ineligible, which would have fucked the season. I made him a deal. I'd do their homework and take their tests, in exchange, they made sure nobody bothers me and I get an A in gym without ever having to put on a pair of gym shorts. Good deal all around; the coach wants to go on to a college career and the superstars want the free scholarships. One time some asshole was pushing me around. Two big linemen grab him by the arms, slam him against the wall hard, drag him in to the coach's office, who told him if he ever got near me again they'd stick a pole up his ass, stake him to the ground and use him as a blocking dummy. The coach even wrote me a letter of recommendation when I was applying for the college scholarship grants.
I have two passions in life: computers and consumer electronics. There isn't much I can't do with a computer; I'm a great hacker, excellent Webmaster and I'm unbeatable in any computer game regardless of the platform. I know all about HDTV, DVD players, sound systems, speakers, digital photography, you name it. Oh and one other thing, I'm also a thief.
It started last summer. I needed money, so I took an after school job at this big electronics superstore out on highway 80 called Insane Sam. They needed a clerk to work in the back office with the receipts. Didn't take them long to figure out the back office wasn't where I belonged. I was a kid in the candy store among all those goodies. They became impressed with all my knowledge about the merchandise, even most of the other sales people started coming to me with tough questions about the new equipment. After two months, the sales manager put me on the floor.
Something had to happen sooner or later. I was like an alcoholic working at liquor store or a sugar freak doing time at a Dunkin Donuts, I mean, working around all those computers and game systems, watching the new games come out, it was enough to drive a person to steal and it did. I started studying the security system and pretty soon knew how to beat it. I learned to pick locks and was in business. I'd get back in to the store late at night and helped myself. Not a lot, it's not like I was cleaning out the place or anything, I stole a little, just enough for my pleasure. In the past year, I walked away with a top of the line computer, complete with flat screen, tons of memory, CD burner, DVD drive and great speakers. I also acquired all three game system, a digital camera, Ipod, DVD player, and every game, DVD and music CD I ever wanted. Why download when I can get the originals for free. My room is in the basement. I don't mind, it gives me a lot of privacy. That's where I put all my ill-gotten toys. My father usually doesn't notice. On the one occasion he did, I told him I got it cheap, second hand. My father didn't know any better and didn't really care anyway.
Friday Night - 11:46PM
It was the start of a long three-day weekend and my father took off with his girlfriend to this resort just over the state border. My sister also split with her boyfriend. They went down the shore, and like my father, she wouldn't be back until late Monday night. I had the house to myself. It was almost mid-night, show time. Tonight was the last time. With college starting in the fall, I had my eye on a cool laptop. My father and his girlfriend went in her car. His old pickup was in the driveway; he still took the keys with him. It didn't matter; I had copies made a while back.
Batgirl hated stakeouts, but it went with the job. A gang of professional thieves was operating in Gotham City. They hit the big appliance stores, six scores in the last four weeks. The Batcave computer saw a pattern. It gave Batman a list of possible targets based on that pattern. Huntress, Nightwing, Black Canary and Batgirl would each stake out a possible target, while Batman and Robin cruised. The plan was when the gang showed, the person watching would signal and they'd close in and take them. At 12:23, Batman signaled. The plan worked. The gang went for the store Nightwing was watching. Batman and Robin moved in and apprehended them. They were now being booked. It had been a boring couple of hours for Batgirl, but it was over. She would take one last patrol around the city and then head on home. As she started climbing down from her observation point, she saw a pickup truck pull in to the rear parking lot of the store. A lone figure got out and walked toward the back door. Maybe this wasn't going to be such a boring night after all, she thought. She pulled out her binoculars, what she saw confused her. The figure was dressed in dark clothes but wore no mask. Even more confusing, it was a kid. To Batgirl he couldn't have been more seventeen or eighteen. She watched him walk up to the door, and somehow open it. No alarms went off; nothing in the police band to indicated that anyone was alerted. It was strange. She climb down and went to the door, the lock had been picked. She thought about calling Batman, but decided against it, she could certain handle one kid.
Inside Batgirl watched the kid go straight for a laptop computer, putting it in his shoulder bag. He then started collecting accessories. She wasn't sure what to do. He was only a kid, a good-looking kid. The cost of the laptop would put this up at the grand thief level, a felony, and if he were eighteen it would get him a permanent record. Tough thing to do to a kid, but she couldn't just let him walk out with that laptop. The kid was breaking the law. If he kept doing it, sooner or later, he'd get caught and do some real jail time. On the other hand, he did pick that lock and beat the alarm system without any trouble. Obviously this was not his first time. No, she decided the best thing to do was to teach him a hard lesson. She would scare the shit out of him. The whole routine, slap the cuffs on him, take him to the police station, right up to the booking entrance. If he didn't have any prior record she might let him go, but only if she really scared him. If he started crying, pleading and really looking frighten she might take pity on him. She'd get his name and address, tell him she'd keep track of him, and assign him community service. He'd had to volunteer at the soup kitchen or the hospital for the summer and she'd make sure he do it or else.
I was ready to leave when I saw her. I froze; she was barring the door. Who the fuck is that? Her feet were shoulder width apart, her hands balled in to fists and resting on her hips, the classic superhero pose. I stood there staring at her; she looked real stupid. She wore a tight, blue, nylon body suit with a yellow bat on her chest. Her boots, gloves and belt were all yellow. She had a cape that went down as far as her ass, a cowled mask with phony ears on top and red hair. I didn't know what to make of her. I could tell it was a she by the great figure and those breast jutting out at me.
"In case you didn't notice, the store’s closed?" she said with a superior smile on her face.
For a second my mind didn't register, and then it kicked in. She was one of those idiot superheroes. I wasn't sure which one, it was getting hard to keep track of them; they seemed to multiply like rabbits. Here in Gotham they all wore a bat or some sort of bird on their chest. How the hell did the bat become the great symbol of heroism? They don't do anything except hang upside down in caves; hiding all day in the dark, and they’re blind as...well, bats
"Put the bag down," she ordered. Without thinking I did. Then she pulled out a pair of handcuffs, yellow handcuffs. I couldn't believe it; I had to keep from smiling. I tried to imagine regular cops walking around with yellow handcuffs. Not a bad idea, the bad guys would all be too busy laughing to resist arrest.
"Turn around and put you hands behind your back," she ordered. "They have a nice cell for you downtown. You can get use to spending time in them, along with other thugs, petty crooks, drunks and junkies."
That snapped me out of it; I was no longer amused. That's right, she's a superhero, she's here to bust me. What a bitch, she was here to fuck up his life. I started getting scared and panicky, so I ran.
I ran in to the back office where I use to work and hid behind the couch. My situation was serious. It wasn't just the laptop; they'd search the house and find all the other stuff. I was looking at serious jail time and that scared the shit out of me. I wouldn't last two days in one of those places. They loved young white boys, like me, in there. They'd have me on my knees sucking some big cons cock and getting fucked in the ass. My master plan would be finished, with a conviction I'd lose the grant money, Gotham University wouldn't take me, and I'd never get a good job with a rap sheet. My life was burning down in front of me and to top it off I could hear that bitch calling me.
"Come on, don't make this any harder on yourself. There's nowhere to go, you know I'm going to get you, so stop wasting my time."
The more I listened, the more I got pissed. "Don't add resisting arrest to your problems," she said.
What bullshit, I thought. There are guys out there robbing banks, killing people, pushing drugs in the schools, and this bitch was chasing me for a fucking laptop? What a fucking whore. Who the hell was she? Who made her queen bitch? What right did she have to destroy his life? The more I thought about it the more I hated her. But what was I going to do? Fight her? No, all these heroines were in to martial arts. All you ever hear about in the news is how they kick ass all the time. Me, I've never been in a fight in my life. As humiliating as it felt, in fight, I knew she'd beat the crap out of me. I could hear my heart pounding, sooner or later she was going to walk in here and find me. If only I had a weapon, a baseball bat or tire iron, something, but I didn't. It looked like I was trapped; it was bad, darkness everywhere. Then I remembered.
I felt like the blackness parted and light came shining through, I remembered. I looked over at Linda's desk. If only...I went over to her desk. The drawer was locked; I jimmied it open. There it was, the stun gun.
Linda was the head bookkeeper. When she was in college, she was date raped; now she was always worried about being attacked again. Her boyfriend, a cop, bought her the stun guns to make her feel better. It wasn't a cheap one; he got it at one of those law enforcement stores. Problem was she'd put the thing in her desk draw and always forget to take it with her she when left. I knew how to use it, she showed me once, just out of curiosity. I set the thing on high and waited.
It was a big store, took ten minutes for the bitch to get around to the office. I was leaning with my right shoulder against the wall. The stun gun in my right hand, pressed against my thigh so she wouldn't see it. She looked pissed.
"I have better things to do then to chase you all night," she said.
I was scared and worried I'd freeze. It took all I had to keep my voice steady and my face cool. "Hey, don't hang around on my account. If you got a hot date I can always come back tomorrow."
That pissed her off more, her expression showed it. She pulled out the cuffs again. "You know the drill," she said. "Put your hands behind your back."
I didn't move, didn't react, didn't do anything, I just stood there. She didn't like that and started walking up to me. Come on, whore, get closer, real closer. She grabbed for my left arm and that was close enough. I put the gun on her shoulder and pulled the trigger. Before she could react, her entire body convulsed. I never saw anything like it. I knew I was sending a few hundred volts through her, the electricity surged through every muscle in her body. Her entire body twitched, the pain must have been unbearable. It was something to watch. The super bitch went down, hard. I read about this stuff, I knew what was happening, her muscles refused to do what she ordered them to. I was still scared, so I wasn't taking any chances. I bent down over her and stunned her again.
"Aghhhhhhhhh..." The electricity must have hit her like an eighteen-wheeler. I don't think she's ever felt such pain. Looked like her mind went blank. I stood over her, as she lay completely helpless on the floor, her body still twitching. I did it, a complete turn around. A couple of minutes ago I was scared my life was over and now I was in complete control. The bitch was in no condition to do anything to me. I was feeling great. I wanted to celebrate. I put my foot on her ass.
"I guess your not going to get me, are you bitch? That nice cell downtown with all the junkies and drunks is going to have to do without me."
I was wasting my breath, she probably couldn't understand a word I said, but what the hell, it made me feel good. Anyway, that was enough celebrating; I hadn't forgot I was in a building I shouldn't be in. I started to walk out. Time to split, I'll pickup my bag, lock up and be home in fifteen minutes. Not a thing to worry about... Then I stopped, a bad thought crept in to my mind. I turned around and looked at bitch's prone body. Shit! The cunt saw my face; she got a real close look. She'd be able to ID me. My mind began racing. She doesn't know my name, so what could she do? Maybe she noticed that I knew my way around and figure out I work her. Show up when I'm working and finger me. What if I quit? No, she'll ask if anybody quit recently and they'll give her my name and address. She could get together with a sketch artist, make a drawing of me and show it around. Maybe she took down the license plate of the truck. Shit, I didn't solve anything; she could still come after me. What the hell was I going to do? I looked down at her again, I can't kill the bitch, I’m not a killer. I stood there just staring at her, thinking, gasping for an idea. For a few minutes nothing came, then I noticed something, something so fucking obvious. It's always in front of you if you know how to look it. I noticed the bitch wore a mask, pretty fucking obvious, hue? That's why I'm a genius.
Think about it, if you see someone wearing a mask, and it's not Halloween, what does it tell you? That someone has a secret. I'm worried about a woman who walks around with a mask on her face, who's got bigger secrets? A plan formulated in my mind. I went over it step by step for anything I missed. Now I was ready. Showtime.
The bitch looked like she was beginning to stir, I wasn't taking any chances, I shocked her again, twice. Then picked up her cuffs, waited for he body to stop twitching, removed her gloves and handcuffed her wrists behind her back. I found the key in the compartment of her belt where I saw her pull the cuffs out. Also found another set of cuffs in the next compartment. That's funny, who really knows what goes on in the mind of a woman who walks around in a skintight body suit, a mask and two pairs of handcuffs. I removed her boots and handcuffed her ankles together, pocketed both keys, took off her yellow tool belt, put it on my waist and went back to the storeroom. There I picked up my bag, grabbed a roll of duck tape and a dolly. Used the duck tape on super bitch's mouth, stuffed her gloves and boots in my bag next to the laptop, then loaded her on the dolly. I wheeled her to the backdoor, pulled the truck up, loaded her in to the back and put a tarp over her. The bitch's mind was scrambled; I don't think she had any idea what was happening to her. I relocked the door and reactivated the alarm, then very carefully drove out of the parking lot. I was back at my house fourteen minutes later. Dragged her from the garage to the basement where I handcuffed her arms around a fixed column. She did not resist; she was pretty docile. I think the current still pulsed through her body, which made any kind of coherent thought impossible. Time to go to work.
I got my digital camera; batteries fully charged, loaded a fresh disc and went up to my little houseguest. First, I took about six shots of her just sitting there, my prisoner. I loved the sound of that. Slowly removed the duck tape from her mouth and took more images. Then the big moment; unsnapped her cowl and pulled it off. She wore a red wig. I left it on, put the cowl on her lap and snapped more picture. Next step: removed the wig and also put it on her lap, next to her discarded cowl. Then clicked away, taking picture after picture of her uncovered head from every angle, front, profiles, close ups, every detail of her face was highlighted. When I was done I replaced the duck tape on her mouth. The images were not enough, of course, I needed a name and I needed a bio. So I started going through her cute yellow tool belt. Found some interesting items: a radio, I removed the batteries, lock picks and other tools for breaking and entering, an expensive Swiss army knife, climbing equipment, all kinds of other cool stuff, including her own stun gun and a small bottle of Ether. All very useful but nothing that’d give me her name, until the last compartment. Two sets of keys. The first were obviously for some sort of vehicle, but the second set was the important one. I examined them with a magnifying glass and saw what I needed. I looked at the hero and smiled. “Got you, bitch!”
I sat down in front of my computer and began working the keyboard, keeping my eye on my weekend guest, the stun gun within easy reach. First, which heroine was she? It took his only a minute to ID her, Batgirl and pull up a quick profile. I kept working on the computer for a little over an hour. When I was done I felt a lot of satisfaction. I took Batgirl's ether and drenched a handkerchief, then taped it over her nose. Sleep tight Batcunt, or should I say Barbie, when I come back, we'll have a nice talk about your future.
I got back three hours later; check on Batgirl, she was still out. I sat back down in front of the computer and worked for another hour and a half. When I was done, I stretched out. "Almost finished," I said out loud. Now came the fun part. I poured more of Batgirl's Ether on the hanky and replaced over her nose. Took off the cuffs from her wrists and ankles, unzipped and removed her body suit, cape and socks leaving Batgirl lying there dressed in nothing but her matching black bra and thong and the tape and handkerchief over the mouth and nose. I had no intention of taking off her underwear, I had other plans for that, but that didn't stop me from copping some generous feels. I mean come on, think about it. I'm a fucking virgin at eighteen. The only women I've ever seen naked were in magazines and DVD. No way I ever thought I'd get this close to a women with a body as great as hers. Batgirl's body was magnificent, she obviously worked out, a lot. You think I'm stupid; I'm going to pass up an opportunity like this. I squeezed, groped and massaged her tits and ass, put my tongue on her nipples, ran my hand through her bush and between her legs; I even played with her muscular feet. Yeah, I got a foot fetish, so fucking what? It was Disneyland time for me, couldn't get enough. I finally found something that got me more excited then hacking in to a secure site. I never felt like this in my life, it was incredible, no other way to describe it. The only thing that kept me from fucking the bitch on the spot was that I had a plan. You have to understand, when I first came up with this plan all I wanted to do is scare the bitch off, get her to leave me alone and not come after me, but now, I wanted more, I wanted payback. This bitch came within a cunt hair of destroyed my life. I'm going to make her pay. I'm going to make her sorry she ever laid eyes on me. After all the of fun, I dressed Batgirl in old, worn out sweat shirt, sweat pants and an old, raggedy pair of sneaker, I forgot to throw away. I handcuffed her again to the column and left one more time, taking her costume and my new laptop. I got back thirty minutes later. Bats was still out. Good, the night was catch up with me. I removed the hanky and tape from her face, then sacked out on the couch. It had been a busy night; it was going to be a busy day.