Supergirl/Batgirl Dreams
of her Wedding Night.
A hotter version.
By Barnabus
(M/F, romance, Batgirl,
first time, bondage, unmasking)
SUBJECT:
Batgirl dreams of her wedding night. Then she has another dream.
WARNING:
This is an adult ‘romance’ story, containing sensitive
material of a sexual nature, including graphic descriptions of consensual,
"vanilla" sex and bondage.
If you find such material offensive or are underage, do not read
further, but please bypass this story for one more suitable for you.
The
original story, Supergirl Dreams of her Wedding Night, (Original Version) ‘wrote itself’ in about three hours. It is essentially unchanged from the
original draft. Before the first draft
of that story was finished, I knew that I would also be preparing a ‘rewrite’
that would be longer and ‘hotter’. Maybe
even including some (gasp) bondage! <:~O Both versions have been completed
and should be posted on this site.
(Since I have run out of Kryptonite, bondage won’t work for
Supergirl. Also, I wanted a masked superheroine
for a second dream. Therefore, Batgirl
gracefully consented to replaced Supergirl in this version, (or she would have
if she had been asked. Actually,
Batgirl had no say in the matter and was caught by surprise!) For the sake of the record: in this story,
Batgirl has reached the appropriate age of consent in her jurisdiction.
Supergirl is copyrighted, trademarked, and owned by DC Comics. I am simply borrowing her for a while to introduce her to a sex life. This is a work of fan-fiction. This story is written for enjoyment and entertainment purposes only, and no commercial profit is expected to be made from it. It may be copied for personal use or for posting on other sites, provided the sites are free sites . . . it may NOT be posted on any site that requires a "membership fee" of any kind. I’m giving up on the ‘adult verification sites’. Therefore, this story may NOT be posted to any site requiring an AVS where money is involved.
Special thanks are given to J., author of “Supergirl Subdued” for his creative ideas and inspiration. His story can be found at:
http://www.superstories.net/SHIP/fic/shid/supergirl_subdued.htm
Like most stories of this ilk, at the end of the story
(unless there is a sequel), the characters are magically returned to their
original condition, undamaged, unharmed, and unchanged in any way with no
memory of the events that have taken place. .
. It is as if the story had
never happened, because, after all, it never really did.
Birth control is used in
this story. And, of course, in 'real
life' every reasonable adult should know that he or she should behave
responsibly when participating in sexual activities and wish to avoid unwanted
conception and the spread of disease.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I appreciate your
comments, both positive and negative.
Feedback is welcome at barnabus329@hotmail.com.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 1 – Barbara Gordon Dreams
As Barbara Gordon was drifting from consciousness, she
adjusted her position slightly to be more comfortable. Her thoughts became disconnected and
gradually drifted off into nothingness as peace settled over her in the comfort
of her own bed and the safety of her own apartment. Sleep was always a pleasant interlude in a life that varied from
total boredom to massive excitement and vigorous activity.
For Batgirl, sleep was the same as it was for anyone
else. One of her classmates at the
university, had asked her to do a sleep study, and she had readily agreed. Her sleep patterns were similar to most
people, with light sleep, deep sleep, REM sleep. She had several dreams during the course of
the night, but remembered very few of them.
Like most people, some dreams were pleasant, some were nightmares, and
some just didn’t make sense.
Now, in the security of her own bedroom, Barbara’s
night started the same as any other night.
Dreams came and evaporated. Then
a different dream began to coalesce in her unconscious state. If she had thought about it, she would have
known it was a dream. It had to
be. There was disjointedness to it
typical of dreams, and the details of real life were missing as they always are
in a dream. But there were aspects
about it that were very real, also!
But she knew where she was and what was
happening. She knew that this was her
wedding night as she felt her husband slide under the covers beside her. She rolled and cradled her head on his
shoulder, his arm around her, drawing her safely to him. For a moment, she was disturbed and
wondered why she was wearing her regular pajamas on her wedding night. But even as she thought about it, the
pajamas began to shimmer and transformed into a long, white, virginal night
gown that was both modest but alluring at the same time. The gown might have come from Victoria’s
Secret, but it didn’t have the blatant ‘sex for sale’ feeling that many of
those gowns convey. It didn’t disturb
her that the gown buttoned down the front just the same way that her pajamas
had.
Barbara’s husband gently kissed her forehead and
caressed her cheek. That gentle caress
stirred her. The way he stroked her
face made her really feel beautiful. She raised her face to him and their lips met in a long, gentle
kiss. As her lips met his, she had
remembered how good he tasted, how good he felt! It was dark in the room and she couldn’t see his face although
his cheek was smooth as though he had just shaved (she knew that he had) and
there was an understated scent of cologne that she really enjoyed. And she suddenly realized how badly she
wanted him
One
kiss led to another and soon she was cling to him, giddy with arousal. She entwined her arms around him. His lips
became more and more demanding. And her
lips began to make more demands of their own.
Barbara felt herself melting, he felt so good! Her entire body started throbbing from the contact with him, the
heat, the need, the deep throb of emptiness filling her. She was tingling!
His
hand stroked her arm in a way that was both familiar, and sensual at the same
time, and she pressed her lips harder against his. She ran her hand over his chest, enjoying the feel of his
muscles beneath his white silk pajamas.
His
hand returned to caress her throat, then dropped to the top button of her
nightgown. Barbara rolled away from him
just enough so that he could have free access to the buttons. Although he had held her and caressed her,
the fact that he had not yet touched her breasts made her burn with
anticipation. The top button opened,
and his hand ran down her breastbone to the next button, pulling the sheet with
it. Studiously, he avoiding actually
touching her mounds. His lips moved to
her collarbone and he began nibbling on her skin where her throat met her
chest.
The
second button opened and the light constraint of her gown against her breasts
relaxed. His lips moved downward along
her breastbone gently separating the nightgown enough that he could kiss
her.
Another
button opened and Barbara enjoyed a feeling of self-imposed paralysis as his
face continued to kiss its way down her chest, gently nuzzling the material
aside with his nose and chin. His
cheek grazed the inside of her breast and she reveled in the feeling of warmth
that was flowing through her body.
Suddenly,
Barbara realized with a blush of shame that her nipples had become hard and
were now quite prominent, even if they were still covered by her
nightgown. They began aching with
hardness. Her husband seemed to be
mesmerized by the vision of her breasts heaving with taunt nipples beneath her
gown. She gave a shudder as she
recognized the warmth was spreading to her nether regions. She parted her thighs a bit.
Finally
after what seemed like an eternity, the last button opened and his hand
flattened itself against her belly, gently moving to the side, taking the gown
with it. She watched as his face pushed
the gown sideways moving ever closer to her breast and nipple. He kissed his way to the edge of her breast
and began to climb her mountain. Most
of her breast was still covered by the material as his lips touched the edge of
her nipple sending satisfying jolts of eroticism throughout her frame.
It was Barbara’s wedding night and she meant to enjoy it as she moved her torso, pressing her breast and nipple toward his lips. His hand rose, pushing the gown to the side revealing all of her breast. His kisses explored the uncovered topography of her mount, eventually leaning into her breast and taking her nipple and areola deeply into his mouth. He sucked gently, tasting a thick sweetness as she lifted her breast toward him, sending a thrill throughout her body. Her nipples ached with hardness as his lips drew on them. Barbara brought up her hand to steady her breast, offering it to his lips as his sucking generated excitement that seemed to reach every part of her, but centered in her womanhood. Her sex blossomed with warmth that sent a shiver throughout her entire being. She watched as he suckled on her and she clearly saw her breast proudly presenting itself to her husband and soon to be lover. Now his thumb was roughly scraping her other nipple. The sharp contrast between his gentle suckling and rough abrading send surprisingly erotic sensations through her. If she had thought about it, she would have wondered why she could see her own breast clearly, but his face seemed to remain in the shadows. But it didn’t matter. They were married, this was their wedding night and it was time to consummate their marriage.
Barbara felt a twinge of nervousness. She reveled in his ministrations to her breast, but she experienced the same fear that any virgin bride feels. Barbara had never had sex. She was a virgin, never having had a real relationship of any kind with a man. In both high school and college, she had been absolutely absorbed in her Gymnastics training. As an adult, she had never even dated much because of the likelihood of being called into service as Batgirl at any moment. Her schedule was too erratic for any kind of real social life. Now, here she was on her wedding night, in bed with her husband. And she knew what happened on a person’s wedding night! She found herself captured between fear of what was coming and the incredible erotic yearnings she was receiving from his gentle, but possessive ministrations to her breast.
His
hand moved down her side, sliding beneath the sheet, and began pushing her
bottoms downward over her hips. She
lifted herself enough so that he could press the garments downward and she
actively helped him in the project.
Soon her bottoms had slipped over her heels and his hand had returned to
her stomach briefly. She watched as his
fingers once more slid beneath the sheet to cup her mound of Venus.
His hands on her naked flesh filled her with a consuming yearning. Barbara couldn’t believe the stimulation she received from the combination his hand below and his lips still sucking above.
Suddenly,
she was panicked. Her husband sensed
her reaction and paused.
“Are
you alright,” he asked. The sound of
his voice was reassuring to her.
Emrarrassed,
Barbara nodded. “I’ll be alright!” she
promised. “I’m just afraid!”
She
felt him relax and hug her a little tighter.
“I understand,” he reassured her.
“And I promise I’ll be gentle with you!”
His
voice sounded both familiar, but unfamiliar at the same time. Barbara realized that these were the first
words he had spoken since he came to bed.
Somehow that seemed strange. But
his words immediately reassured her and calmed her anxieties.
Barbara
sank back into the bed and wallowed in the sensation of his lips gently sucking
her and his hand, softly massaging and exploring her pubis. His hands moved with slow purposefulness –
gently, but insistently stroking her naked flesh. Barbara experienced a desperate urge to feel his skin against
hers, and she fumbled with his shirt, inadvertently tearing a button from his
pajamas.
He
never touched her clitoris directly, but his gentle manipulations were raising
Barbara to higher and higher levels of excitement. She ached all over! It
was a wonderful, wonderful, heated ache, the most wonderful ache she had felt
in her life! She was pulsing with heat
and need and desire and excitement! She
pressing her hips into his hand, shamelessly letting her body betray her
needs. She felt an enormous sense of
loss when he had to take his hand away as she slipped his pajama top off of his
shoulder and down his arm. Happily, his
hand returned immediately, and his fingers moved lower to gently separate her
labia majora and move between them.
Barbara lifted her hips to meet his fingers, and she felt the dampness
and sensed new pheromones being released.
Her knees parted. Impatiently,
she began fumbling to push his pajama pants downward. Together, they tore at his pajama bottoms until he kicked them
off! Snuggling closer to her, his
unclothed body come into contact with hers as his hand returned to explore her
further. Naked, they clung to each
other pressing together, rolling back and forth. Barbara rubbed herself like a cat against his strong, nude
body. It was so wonderful being naked
with this man that she didn’t even think of modesty. She simply enjoyed his touch and marveled at the pleasure she had
been missing all these years. She felt
his hardness against her side. Her
entire being was becoming hotter as his fingers searched out her most intimate
spots Briefly, she yearned to reach
out and touch and hold his penis, but she was much too shy to take such bold
action. Maybe later!
Chapter 2 – the dream continues
Barbara
gasped and stiffened as his finger entered her. “Uuuhhh , what’s happening?” she growled. Breathing rapidly, she let her body relax as
best she could. Enormous heat and
excitement passed through her most private parts. He didn’t press deeply into her, and she was glad because she
didn’t want to lose her hymen to his finger. But she loved her husband.
She was thankful that he would be her first. If he wanted to use . . . his finger . . .
Once again, he moved away. Barbara felt frustrated at his absence until she realized from his jerking movements that he was putting on a condom. Suddenly and irrationally frightened, Barbara closed her eyes. The moment of truth was at hand and she was both eager and impatient, but also she was scared and terribly nervous. With her hands balled into fists by her side, she felt like a chastised schoolgirl waiting for the principal’s next words. Her arms were trembling. Within moments, her husband rolled back to her and put one knee between her thighs. Terrified and reluctant, she momentarily resisted his intrusion between her legs. It took an act of will to release her thighs, and he shifted his hips and his weight settled, separating her knees.
Gingerly,
she put her arms around him as she felt her breasts flatten beneath his
weight. Her nipples rasped against the
hair of his chest, chaffing her nipples even more deliciously than his thumbs
had! Oooohhh, how she loved him! He was her husband. What he was about to do was rightfully his
to take, and hers to give. Barbara
stopped breathing as she felt him spreading her dripping labia, nuzzling her
entrance. She parted her thighs wide,
emitting a low, animal growl. Her
vision went white as he gently moved between her lips, and abruptly, time
slowed! Her sex was hot for him, and
his touch made her feel goose bumpy and her nipples surged to a hardness that
surprised her. She was breathing in
quick, little gasps.
She
couldn’t keep her hands off of him. So
she gave in and stroked his body to her heart’s content. Enfolding her arms around his neck, she
pulled his lips to hers, kissing him hungrily.
Almost as if she were an observer, her body ached to be touched and
filled by this man! She drew her heels
toward her body so that her knees opened wider. And she groaned softly feeling his strong shaft taking its place
between her swollen lips. Barbara
hissed, feeling him sliding deeper into her, her arms running over his body,
clutching at his shoulders. Her breaths
were panicked gasps, and she felt her swollen labia separating to receive him.
He was unbelievably gentle with her. She was filled with the wonder of it! Entranced, almost detached, she concentrated
on the sensation of heat and stretching.
She ached all over! That
wonderful, most wonderful, heated ache she had felt in her life. It was magic! It felt like magic!
Suddenly, she stiffened as she felt pressure against her maidenhead and she clutched him to her. Did he know he was pressing against the proof of her innocence?
“I
know,” he whispered into her ear, capturing her face between his loving
hands. “I don’t want to hurt you! Try to relax!”
He
knew! Enormous relief flooded through Barbara. He knew!
And he was concerned for her!
How strange it was that someone didn’t want to hurt her! She had spent her life keeping other people
from getting hurt. Now someone, her
husband, wanted to keep her from being hurt!
Barbara
relaxed her body. She didn’t want to
resist his taking of her virginity, claiming her innocence. He took a fistful of her long mane in his
hand, and slowly, he pressed further and the pressure increased. So did the pain! Barbara had experienced pain frequently. But she had never enjoyed it! She willed her body to submit because she
didn’t want to refuse her husband. She
turned her face away to keep him from seeing her discomfort. The pressure increased.
Suddenly,
without warning, her hymen ripped and he penetrated her body with a satisfied
moan. A deep groan, almost like a death
rattle, escaped from Barbara’s lips.
It hurt like hell! But at the
same time, she experienced the satisfaction of her husband moving deeper into
her. He froze and waited for her, her
tight walls rippling along his length.
The intimacy of having her husband in her was incredibly rewarding, she
was more than willing to suffer the short period of pain for the rewarding
satisfaction she was giving her husband, as indicated by his moan.
“Are
you all right?” he asked.
Barbara smiled at him. “I am now!” she replied, feeling his gigantic member pulsing deep inside of her. “But I’m glad that that’s over!” Barbara was giddy with arousal and she clung to him. Without thinking, her muscles tightened around his girth. Her calves slid up against his, linking her ankles tightly around his legs and she rolled her hips up toward him as she used her legs to pull him to her and with a groan, he sank into her. He backed off momentarily, and then drove in deeper. She wailed as she pulled him into her, writhing in his grasp, feeling her walls expand with his slow, torturous penetration. She bucked her hips and back onto him, feeling the length fill her deeper with each lift of her hips, splitting her sex as he bored deeply into her. After two or three thrusts, he sank into her with a groan. Barbara felt his pelvis touch hers and their pubic hair meshed. He was all the way in her, and she pressed her hips against his. She was awed by the feeling of fullness she received from him.
He began thrusting and her body moved with a will of its own, twisting, seeking, rolling her hips, meeting his fierceness with her own, her hands clawing at his shoulders, driving him harder into her, demanding everything he could give her. He rode her hard! Both were grunting in time with their thrusts and she sensed the pleasure and satisfaction her husband was drawing from their lovemaking. The pain of her deflowering was gone, but there was still a slight residual soreness. She struggled feverishly beneath him, grinding into his hardness, bucking slowly at first, then increasing the tempo. She marveled at the harsh sounds he was making, the growling desperation of his grip, the increasing tension and heat in her own body, a sensation winding tighter and tighter! But that was nothing when compared to the satisfaction she felt from her husband’s attentions to her. Idly, she wondered if she’d have to change her name to Batwoman now that he’d made a woman of her.
He began speeding up and
breathing faster and Barbara matched him thrust for thrust. She was a tight one. And very ready! She bit at his shoulder as his tool pounded her deepest
limits. He was obviously becoming
more excited and more consumed with her.
The constriction of her tight walls drove him to pound even harder,
gasping and choking. Pressing deeper
into her, she clutched him to her. She
felt his manhood swell as her walls gripped the invading member driving deeply
in and out of her. She leaned into him
to kiss him and suddenly, he reached critical mass as he exploded. She heard him grunting and sobbing, and her
hips frantically surging against him.
He continued to pound into her and she felt the world dimming around
her. He stiffened, then, gave a long,
low growl, as he convulsed wildly inside of her, her juices squishing as he
frantically pounded her, his hot semen gushing deep inside her ravished
vagina. She pounded back into him, meeting
his every thrust. His climax seemed to
go on and on and Barbara clutched him to her, lurching her hips up to his groin
as she felt her body clenching his throbbing tool, encouraging yet another
group of spasms from his body. She
tried to milk every last drop of semen from him, even though she knew his seed
was being captured in the condom.
He slumped onto her, still deeply within her, and she
purred and sighed, her thighs wrapped around his waist and her hips slowly
lurching into him, her whole body shuddering.
She felt his tiny orgasms rolling through him and into her like the
aftershocks of an earthquake.
For nearly five minutes, he simply lay on top of his
bride. Barbara hadn’t climaxed, but
that didn’t bother her. Her husband
had!
They
had consummated their marriage. And
she smiled, secure in the knowledge that their wedding night was a
success. Her feeling of well-being came
not just from the intensity of their making love, but lying together afterward
with her head cradled on his shoulder and his arms around her. Feeling fatigued, she dozed, cuddled
against him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 3 – Barbara wakes.
Barbara’s eyes snapped open as she awoke with a
start. She was breathing heavily and
sweat seemed to be dripping from her body.
Relaxing back into the mattress, she took a deep
sigh. And she smiled with pleasure,
remembering her dream. That was one
dream that she was glad she remembered.
She felt weak as she relived the experience in her memory, and without
thinking her hand moved to her womanhood.
She was wet! Very wet! Yes, indeed! That had been some dream!
Idly she wondered if a girl could have a ‘wet dream’. Obviously she could, because she felt the
evidence with her own fingers.
Dreamily, she slipped out from under the covers to go to
the bathroom. She hesitated as she
stood next to the bed. Hadn’t she worn
pajamas when she went to bed? Absently,
she pulled her pajama tops from the tangled bedclothes and started to slip them
over her shoulders. There were streaks
of blood on her inner thighs! Was it
her virginal blood? As disturbing as
this recognition was, her concern quickly faded as she remembered it had been
her wedding night. Or had it?
She went to the bathroom to clean herself off. When she returned from the bathroom, she surveyed the rumpled bed looking for her pajama bottoms. She flicked on the light and pulled the covers back, finding the pajama bottoms lost at the bottom of the bed. Picking them up, she stepped into them and her eyes came to rest on a wet spot in the bed. Remembering her dream, she wondered if this was a famous ‘wet spot’ she’d heard people refer to. The wet spot wasn’t that big, but she acknowledged that her dream must have been awfully realistic for her to produce a wet spot as big as it was. She looked closer and found a streak of blood, her blood. But then she saw something else. She reached into the covers and retrieved a button with a small patch of white silk still attached to it. Holding the button up, she observed that it wasn’t from her pajamas.
Barbara
knew she should be upset and shocked by this evidence in her bed, but
immediately she calmed down and knew that there was nothing to be upset
about. For a moment, she wondered why
she shouldn’t be upset by what she had discovered. But without explanation, her concerns faded
from her mind.
She
pulled the used linen from the bed and put it to the hamper. Getting clean sheets, she quickly made the
bed.
Then
she paused for a moment. Making a
decision, she went to the kitchen and picked up a pair of scissors and returned
to the hamper. Taking the sheet, she
carefully cut out a patch containing the wet spot and blood traces. She put the piece of material in her night
stand drawer and dropped the rest of the sheet into a wastebasket.
Barbara smiled as she turned off the light. She had enjoyed her dream. She was glad she could remember it. As she slipped back between the sheets, she hoped she would be able to enjoy that dream again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 4 – Supergirl Dreams Again
A week had passed since she had dreamed of her wedding
night. After a day or two, the soreness
she had felt between her legs had healed and been forgotten. Once more, Barbara Gordon drifted into
sleep. Her bed was comfortable and
seemed to enfold her in a snug, relaxing embrace.
And she had had more dreams where her husband had come
to her, dreams which seemed to be two people learning about each other as they
explore each other. Occasionally,
Barbara had had erotic dreams before, but never before had the dream included
actual sex. But in her recent dreams
Barbara had moved closer to orgasm in each dream as she made love. Barbara cherished each dream. She had always been Barbara Gordon in these
dreams, and she still wasn’t sure who the man was, other than knowing that he
was her husband. Of course, he knew
that she was Batgirl (how could a husband not know something like that
about his wife?), but Barbara wasn’t sure how he knew. She was relatively certain that she had
never told him herself. But he knew.
Barbara also remembered talking to him, in the
satiated bliss of sexual afterglow, about some of her experiences as Batgirl,
how she had been captured and tied up and tormented by different villains. Although it had seemed perfectly natural in
the context, when she remembered her dreams, Barbara was embarrassed when she
remembered telling her husband how turned on she had been when she had been
captured and bound by the Riddler!
Surreptitiously, the Riddler had groped her several times, but for the
most part he had been so involved in his making of bad riddles and talking
about his master plans that Batgirl hadn’t really felt molested when she
escaped.
Every night since Barbara had dreamt of her wedding
night, the bed had always been reasonably made when she awoke with no physical
traces of the sexual activity of her dreams.
These dreams were not typical. Normally, one forgets dreams when they awake
or the dreams begin to fade afterwards.
But Barbara’s dreams of her husband remained vividly in her memory.
But, most of all, she enjoyed the memory of the dream
of her wedding night. She replaying it
in her mind, as she slipped off into nothingness at the end of the day. Batgirl’s life faced certain dangers, but
she was always comfortable in the peace and safety of her own bed and in her
own apartment.
Tonight,
as she slept, dreams came and evaporated.
And once again, a different kind of dream began to coalesce in her
unconscious state. Dully, if she had
been able to think in her unconscious state, she would have recognized the same
pattern she felt each time she dreamt of her husband joining her.
Once
again, she knew where she was and what was happening. But this wasn’t her wedding night. She knew that had happened earlier. In this dream, she had been married for a while.
Gradually,
the scene formulated in her mind. She
was wearing the form-fitting, one piece black spandex costume with the familiar
bat-emblem on her shapely chest. Was
her husband going to find her dressed as Batgirl? That had never happened before!
Her flaring hips were emphasized by the yellow utility belt was still
buckled around her waist just above the wide leather belt. (The wide leather belt?) Boots and gloves were in place completing
her uniform. The material of her
costume hugged her athletic body proudly displaying every curve she had.
Her
figure was good, and she had designed the costume to show off every aspect of
its attractiveness in a way she could never do as the prim and proper librarian
and daughter of the police commissioner.
But as Batgirl, she could look at any man and think, “Eat your heart
out, buddy. You can look, but don’t
even think about touching!”
Batgirl
gave a sad sigh as she realized that her activities as a gymnast in school and
as Batgirl since, had never allowed her the time to date or develop real
relationships with men. She would
enjoy being touched and petted, all of the things that go with a romantic
relationship, but her life style prevented it.
That was probably one of the reasons she had designed her costume to be
such a blatant sexy display of her womanhood.
Batgirl’s
image focused on the wide leather belt around her waist below her utility belt. The belt had leather cuffs on each side that
enclosed her wrists effectively immobilizing her hands and wrists. The belt and cuffs was positioned such that
she didn’t have access to her utility belt.
Absently, she reflected she needed to modify her costume so that there
was a hidden pocket where her hands were now to hide lock picks and other tools
that might be useful in a situation like this. Her ankles were also bound, but she wasn’t otherwise restrained
as she lay on her own bed in her own apartment.
Another
form moved into her vision. She knew
immediately it was her husband dressed in a mask and a Riddler’s costume. A surge of adrenalin flashed through her. There had always been something about the
Riddler that turned her on. Of course,
she had never permitted the chemistry to reveal itself, but she always felt
it. In fact, she had mentioned this to
her husband (she thought). Was he
playing games with her to permit her to play out the fantasy?
Probably
not, she thought. Sure, Batgirl had
been captured by villains since her crime fighting career had begun. And they had tied her up and occasionally
groped her. But for all their criminal
brilliance, most were really stupid!
The logical solution to their problems would have been to simply kill
her so that she would no longer be around to interfere with their plans. But instead, their egos required they boast
to her, often telling her of their plans, gloating over their success. And, in the end, somehow they always made a
mistake allowing her to escape and capture them, sending them back to
prison. She started to speak to try to
get the Riddler to start talking, the first step toward defeating him, but as
she opened her mouth, he slapped a piece of duct tape over her mouth.
Batgirl
didn’t like that! Frequently she had
been able to talk her way out of predicaments, but the tape effectively
silenced her. Rationally, she knew
‘the Riddler’ was really her husband, but the tape made her feel more
helpless. What if the man standing over
her really was the Riddler?
He
stood over her smiled with a wicked grin as he leaned over his near-helpless
prisoner, lying on her own bed, hands and feet bound.
His
caressed her throat, then her cheek that wasn’t covered by her cowl. Then, with surprising dexterity he unclasped
her heavy cape and rolled her to the side to pull the cape out from beneath
her. Batgirl’s captor gave a slight
whistle as he looked down on her curvatious, spandex coved body which covered
her as effectively as a layer of water and which revealed almost every detail
of her shape. He removed the utility
belt from her trim waist and discarded it on top of her cape beside the bed.
Her boots went next. Immediately, he
grabbed her neck and lifted her head to access the zipper on the rear of her
costume, which he pulled downward with a single movement. Without missing a beat, the costume was
peeled over her shoulders down her trim arms to her wrists and waist revealing
Barbara’s simple, flowered, cotton bra.
Her cowl was still in place.
Batgirl
was astonished at how quickly she had been stripped. To be sure, she had tried to roll away from his hands to avoid or
at least prolong his actions, but within seconds, she was almost completely
exposed before him. Although hands and
feet were restrained, Batgirl tried to roll off of the bed to get away from
him, but he captured her arm in the midst of her rolling motion and pushed her
onto her back. From out of nowhere, he
produced another wide strap which fastened around her neck, then was secured
around the bed itself. Batgirl could
thrash and try to roll, but the neck fastener greatly limited what she could
actually do without hanging herself.
She tried to object, but the tape over her mouth allowed only muffled grunts to be heard. If she really thought the man standing over her was the Riddler, she probably would have continued to struggle until she was totally exhausted. But since it was her husband . . . it was her husband, wasn’t it? . . . Batgirl knew she could simply enjoy the living out of her fantasy.
The man standing over her leered at her. He bent down and gently kissed her eyelids through the openings of her cowl. Then he kissed her cheek, which was revealed through her cowl. His hand touched her bare collarbone, and slid down until his fingers were pressing softly against her nipple through her bra. Batgirl stiffened. He was still kissing her face, but he was also touching her nipple. He wasn’t doing anything to molest her breast, but the pressure of his fingers combined with the feel of his kiss was sending electricity throughout her entire being. Both of them felt her nipple hardening beneath his fingers.
Without changing the pressure against her nipple, his lips moved to her collarbone and his free hand softly slid the shoulder strap of the bra to the side. A loud gasp escaped from Batgirl as his free hand peeled the bra cup from her until only his finger pressing through the cup prevented further peeling. He kissed the exposed flesh drawing tantalizingly closer to her nipple with each kiss. Batgirl lay in blissful anticipation. She knew the feel of her husband’s lips on her nipple, but the anticipation he was building in her was mind-boggling. Even if the man kissing her breast had been the Riddler, she doubted she would be able to resist this interplay.
After an eternity of anticipation, his lips pushed the cup far enough that he kissed the edge of her nipple. Batgirl tried to arch her breast to raise her nipple to his lips, but he continued kissing while his fingers continued applying their relentless pressure. Her nipple was so hard it felt like it would burst at any moment. She wanted to pull his hand away and grab his head, forcing his lips to enfold her protrusion, but the restraints prohibited that. But unknowingly, her hips were grinding up and down and her knees were pressed together, stimulating her.
Finally, finally, his fingers released their pressure, pulling the bra cup downward revealing her entire breast as his lips pulled her entire nipple into his mouth. Irrationally, this simple act made Batgirl feel like a complete woman! Batgirl found herself relaxing, and becoming more tense at the same time. But she also felt herself becoming more excited in the pit of her stomach. Absently, she recalled her wedding night. Or the dream of her wedding night. She had thoroughly enjoyed sex with her husband, but she hadn’t orgasmed. Would she be cheated if he brought her to her first orgasm with him by manipulating her breasts?
Suddenly, the sucking on her nipple decreased, and he released her, kissing her nipple and the breast flesh around it. Batgirl was breathing in ragged gasps.
Again, he was leering down at her, gladly observing her one naked, saliva covered breast, the other was still covered by her bra. His eyes scanned the rest of her figure as she lay there panting beneath his gaze.
His hand ran down the arm closest to him, sending shudders through her already stimulated body. Holding her forearm with his free hand, he released the cuff holding her wrist and pulled off her glove, which joined the pile on the floor. Still holding her forearm, just above the bunched material of her costume, he tightly grasped her, pressing the arm and hand to the bed and peeled the costume over her free hand.
Batgirl flailed, but any resistance was ineffective. She tried to organize her thoughts to think of a plan of escape, but free hand was lifted above her head and cinched by another piece of equipment which she couldn’t see. Quickly, her second wrist was released from the cuff and the glove and sleeve was removed before the second hand was also fastened above her head. Her captor took some time working with the new restraints, making sure that they were attached just right. (Batgirl assumed it was to be sure she would have no opportunity to escape.)
Her legs were still bound at the ankles. Without a word, he fastened individual restraints on each ankle, which he attached to the foot of the bed so she wouldn’t be able to kick him. Her ankles weren’t bound together any longer, but the were individually bound to the foot of the bed. Batgirl was thankful, at least, that he hadn’t spread eagled her!
He released the wide leather belt at her waist. Then, ever so gently, he moved his hands down her sides and began pushing her bat-costume downward toward her hips. Batgirl trashed frantically, kicking wildly making every attempt to resist her captor. She tried to cry out her objection, but the tape over her mount allowed only hysterical grunts to be heard. Looking to his eyes, trying to beg for mercy, she found only an evil grin. Her struggles became more frantic as her costume slipped past her slim waist revealing her white cotton panties. She was making every heroic attempt she could imagine to keep the villain from exposing her. The tape covering her mouth permitted only a long, anguished wail as her trim, tanned legs felt the cooler air of the room brush against them. But soon, the bottoms had slipped to her ankles, and over her kicking heels. Only the straps tying her legs to the foot of the bed kept her costume from falling to the floor.
Barbara was breathing heavily from the futile exertions
to defend her modesty. Finally she
lay, glowering at the man in the Riddler’s costume. She realized it was slightly silly trying to express anger and
contempt when she was dressed only in her cowl, panties and bra, which was
currently covering only one breast.
Again she tried to verbalize her complaints but could only make muffled
sounds through the tape covering her mouth.
Meanwhile, his eyes appeared to be hypnotized by her breasts, rising and
falling with each breath. She shivered,
being nearly naked in the cool room, her toned washboard abs and slim stomach
were perfectly displaying her athletic body.
Her panties provided scant privacy against his piercing gaze and her long
legs twitched nervously in her helpless condition before him.
He
took the time to re-fasten the wide leather belt snugly around her waist.
She shivered as he moved beside her and his hand slid up
her leg to cup her Mound of Venus. He
took a few moments to kiss her stomach as he began kneading her mound. Pressing through her panties, she felt his
finger begin to press the cotton material into her as the length of his finger
indirectly manipulated her clit. She
liked being touched like that and felt herself beginning to lubricate. Then, almost suddenly, he kissed her though
her panties and ran his hands down her legs, keeping enough pressure on her
skin to avoid tickling her.
Carefully, he released the strap holding one of her legs to the foot of the bed. He was ready when she tried to kick and thrash, so, holding her leg down, he waited until her struggles abated. After the strap had pulled through the leg of her costume, letting it drop, he forced her knee to bend and attached a strap from her ankle band to the wide leather belt around her waist. Pulling the strap tighter he fastened it when her knee was bent and her heel almost touching her buttock. Again, he paid particular attention to the way the strap was fastened to the belt.
Although she tried to resist, her other leg was quickly strapped to the waistband. Thus, tied, Batgirl could keep her bent knees together, but she had very little leverage.
Once again, the villain stood over her, gloating at her helpless condition. She could try to roll from side to side, but the neck strap put definite limits on her movements. His hands gently caressed her face and cowl, and as his fingers began to slide under her cowl and lift, she was immediately filled with the fear of being unmasked and vigorously shook her head.
Apparently he honored her wish as he let his hands slide down her chest. Slipping his hands behind her, the bra immediately loosened and his hands covered her naked breasts, capturing her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling them. Batgirl couldn’t believe the consuming yearning that was growing from his gentle, but possessive manipulation of her breasts and nipples. She writhed within his grasp, again feeling her nipples hardening under his manipulation.
Just as she felt her nipples would explode from stimulation, his hands flashed out to grab the fabric of Batgirl’s bra and jerked the flimsy cloth away with a snapping sound. Batgirl gave a horrified whimper as her perky, full bust was exposed. He gave a wicked grin as he leered at the perfectly shaped pale globes.
Again, with lightning speed, his fingers grasped the waistband of her panties and the shocked Batgirl gasped once more as a second tearing sound accompanied the shredding of the last remnants of Batgirl’s underwear, depriving her of her last bit of dignity, jerking her hips up from the table and causing her ample breasts to bounce and jiggle as her body was completely stripped before her captor. Fortunately, her cowl was still in place, but that was small consolation as the cool air covered her from her neck to her foot.
And yet, restrained both hand and foot, paralyzed by the embarrassment of her stark nakedness, there was nothing the bound heroine could do. Her total helplessness being tied up and naked before him subliminally caused Batgirl to feel even smaller, more unprotected, more helpless that she had ever felt in her life.
Grinning over his helpless captive, leering at her nude body as she ineffectively labored against her bonds, the Riddler dropped her shredded undergarments on the pile with the rest of her clothes.
He bent down, his face inches from hers and caressed her ear through her cowl, which was all that remained of her costume. Eskimo-style , he rubbed noses with her as his hand slipped down to pass over her breasts. Batgirl’s eyes widened when she realized he wasn’t reaching for her breasts but moving lower over her taunt, athletic abdomen toward her exposed mons.
Batgirl
tossed her head emphatically from side to side, her muffled pleading
ignored. Terrified, she frantically
fought, her long legs kicking against her bonds, writhing in his grasp, feeling
his hands draw closer to her sex.
Batgirl tried to keep her knees locked together to block his access, but
having her heels bound so close to her buttocks, she was unable to provide
enough resistence to prevent his assault.
His fingers found her labia and slid between them, entering her wet sex,
which clamped down on him like a vicious dog.
At almost the same time, his lips closed over her nipple and areola
sucking them deeply, heightening her shame as her full round breasts swung and
bounced hypnotically in an effort to escape him. He tasted a thick sweetness combined with her perspiration as he
drew more of her breast into his mouth.
Struggle as she might, it was a losing battle, and Batgirl cursed and
writhed as she struggled in vain to keep body’s responses from betraying
her. His finger slid deeper into her with
a slow purposefulness.
He
hadn’t touched her clitoris at all, but Batgirl found her helplessness,
bondage, and being manhandled a greater aphrodisiac than she could ever have
imagined. Although totally helpless in
her bondage, she ached all over with an ache that she feared could only be
relieved one way. His finger was
pressing deeper into her with no attempt to stimulate her, and somehow this
annoyed her. It was almost as if he
was searching for something he had lost.
Sucking
steadfastly on one nipple, fingering her with one hand, he used his free hand
to stroke her free breast as if he were stroking a cat. And unconsciously, she was leaning into his
strokes. He continued poking his finger
into her, prodding her, making no effort to stimulate her, just . . . . hunting
. . .
Without
warning, Batgirl’s eyes bulged out and she gasped as her vision went
white. No one had ever found her
‘g-spot’ before, and she didn’t know what she was experiencing. Observing her reaction and began attacking her
g-spot energetically. She stiffened,
breathing rapidly as enormous heat flooded her body, everywhere! Her thighs parted as widely as she could and
she emitted a low animal growl through the tape covering her mouth. Frantically, she rubbed her faced against
his head as he continued sucking on her nipple. She was lurching against his hand, her fists, straining against
their bonds, clenching and loosening.
Mercilessly,
he caressed her g-spot sending spirals and sparks before her eyes. Never, never! had she experienced anything
like this! Her body was soaring! Her emotions were spinning, She was his toy
to play with for as long as he wanted.
Even if she had been free, she would have been helpless to resist
him! He could continue doing whatever
he wanted; she was powerless, lifting her hips to his fingers.
“Pleeeease!”
she tried to scream through the tape gage as she released herself into her
primal lust. Totally helpless, she
bucked against his hand, feeling her walls convulse against his torturous
penetration. Suddenly, his thumb found
her clitoris, grating and sliding against that sensitive organ, doubling the
stimulation of her trembling body.
She
screamed, thrashing against his manipulations.
There was no telling what she would have said if her mouth hadn’t been
covered by the tape, but there could have been no rational utterances. All modesty and morality that she may have
ever possessed was lost in the trembling stimulation that drove her to a clenching,
erupting release. If she were
conscious of what was going on, she would have felt hot gushes of cum exploding
from deep inside her ravaged womb. Her
vagina gripped his finger, her insides clenched up, her release erupted and her
frantic gyrations drove her thrashing hips against his hand, driving his finger
into her even harder. Her head tossed
aimlessly. Her scream became a long,
squeal as her insanely intense climax began to pass.
She
was dripping with sweat, and the inside of her cowl, the only part of her
costume she was still wearing, was soaked and plastered to her skin.
Chapter 5 – the moment of truth
Gently,
even lovingly, he slowly and carefully withdrew his finger. Batgirl knew she should be feeling
something, a sense of loss that he was leaving her, gladness that he was no
longer molesting her, something! But
she was so drained from her incredible, mind-blowing orgasm, that she could
barely feel anything.
Eventually,
she was able to look up at him.
Gradually his shape began to focus as her breathing returned to a
semblance of normality.
Without
emotion, Batgirl watched the Riddler grasp the waist band of his top and lift
it over his head. His arms and
shoulders were well proportioned, but not muscular. Obviously, he was not a regular at the gym.
Bending
slightly, he removed his shoes and his hands found the waistband of his tights,
drawing them down and off. Absently,
her eyes focused on his erection as he stood beside her, dressed only in his
mask.
Gently,
his hands caressed her, passing over her breasts and down her body. The simple suggestion of pressure from his
fingertips separated her thighs. Her
bondage would have allowed her to resist, but she had no energy or will to
resist any direction he gave her.
Without
a word, he moved to the foot of her bed and moved his body between her thighs,
and suddenly, irrationally, Batgirl felt a desperate desire to feel the touch
of his skin against hers. Slowly,
gently, he lowered his weight over her.
She
felt a familiar comfort as her bosoms flattened beneath his weight. There was a familiar joy as her breasts
rasped against the hair of his chest, deliciously scratching her nipples
She
gasped as he made contact with her and gently pressed between her still tingling
lips. Carefully spreading her
lubrication, he lovingly imbedded himself deeper into her. Emitting a low, animal growl, she parted her
thighs wide and she felt herself expanding to receive him as his pulsing member
reached deeper and deeper depths.
Futilely, Batgirl tugged at her bonds.
Once again, he lay still over her, gazing into her eyes, her body
trembling beneath him. She felt
helpless and totally filled with him.
He was totally filling her. Once
again, he caressed her face and lovingly kissed her.
“I
suppose we’ve reached the point of ridiculousness, haven’t we?” he asked.
Batgirl
gave a long, contented, sigh and nodded.
He
took tape from her mouth, and she whispered hoarsly, “. . . . hands . . . my
hands . . . “ She gasped again. “Please . . . release them . . . .”
He
began to reach above her head to where her hands were bound, but stopped. Supporting his weight on both elbows, he put
his hands on each side of Batgirl’s face and kissed her again. Then with one hand holding her forehead
tightly against the bed, his free hand loosened the clasp of her cowl under her
chin. Realizing she was about to be
unmasked, Batgirl instinctively struggled, trying to pull away from him, to
throw him off of her, anything to prevent her mask from being removed. But she was still totally helpless beneath
him: her hands bound above her head, her heels strapped to the leather belt
round her waist, his hand holding her forehead against the bed, even her hips
being pinned to the bed by his weight on her pelvis and his penis firmly
implanted in her vagina.
Slowly,
gently, but firmly, against her struggles, her cowl was raised and pulled off
of her head along with her red wig.
Barbara Gordon stared up at him, instinctively feeling the terror of having
her mask removed.
Once
the mask lay on the pillow beside Barbara’s face, her natural brown hair
splayed around her head, he reached up above her head and with a single
movement, both of her wrists were freed instantly. Her arms clutched him to her like a drowning man grabs for a life
preserver.
She held her face against his and whispered,
“. . .l - l - legs. . .”
One
hand reached to the leather belt around her waist. And after a moment, that leg was loosed which she immediately
wrapped around her protagonist. His
other hand moved to her other hip and her second leg was loosed. Immediately, her ankles locked behind the
man who was invading her most private parts.
Eventually,
Barbara felt her body relax. Then
slowly, tentatively, her hands went to his mask and he made no effort to
prevent its removal.
His
face was in the shadows, but Barbara recognized her husband. She cupped his face between her palms and
kissed him. Her body began throbbing
anew, throbbing from being in contact with him, but mostly from his penis still
deeply embedded in her sex.
Her
entire body pulsed with heat and need, and desire and excitement.
“I’m
throbbing all over!” she gasped out. “I
don’t know how to explain how I’m feeling”
She
could barely hear his whispered response:
“I’ll make it stop!”
Batgirl’s
entire body relaxed, but her arms and legs tightened around him, pulling him
deeper into her. She was exhausted, but
she still found the energy to lift her hips into his to meet his thrusts. She felt his length filling her deeper with
each lift of her hips. Her warm,
dripping vagina seemed to suck him into its depths, her walls rippling along
his length as he gladly responded by driving himself as deeply into her as was
possible. There were no screams left in
her being, but warm, satisfied moans accompanied each thrust.
Their lovemaking was slow but
exceedingly sensuous. Barbara was still
exhausted from her previous climax.
He
moaned. shuddering at her hot tightness.
He gave a long low growled, feeling her sex suck at him, squeezing him
as he pressed deeper into her as her long, tight, moist walls rippled along his
length. He felt the tightening growing
in his testicles, clenching his heart and viscera driving him deeper and harder
into her welcoming body.
Barbara
made quick little gasps, thrashing into him, her fingernails digging into his
shoulders with a needful intensity.
She felt her insides grasping him, clenching him, fiercely claiming him
as her own as she rose again to a climax.
There was nothing more she could demand of him. He was giving her everything he could,
everything she needed. And yet, somehow
he was still unbelieveably gentle with her.
“Yes!”
she gasped in a trembling whisper between thrust, as she felt him swelling
within her. “Yes!” She began to convulse wildly as her tight
walls constricted around his invading member.
“I’m so close . . . so close . . .”
She clutched him, clawing at his shoulders trying to pull the two of
them closer together as if she wanted their entire bodies to merge, not simply
conjoin. “ Aaaahhh yes yesyesyescommingcomming ahhhh commmmiing! NOWWWWW!!”
and her hips smashed into his with an intensity not to be believed, fueled by
an ecstasy of devotion to him. Her
gut-wrenching orgasm erupted clamping on him as her head flailed backward and
she felt the torrents of his love exploding deep into her, filling her. She would have screamed if there had been
any screams left within her. Instead,
she thrashed against him encouraging the sheer volume of his seed that
continued erupting from him. She mewed
as spurt after spurt of his love shot into her depths. His arms tightened around her as he blasted
yet another wave of his cream into her, his continuing orgasm claiming her as
his own. .
Purring
and almost sobbing, her thighs wrapped around him holding him close to her,
once again the feelings of intimacy she shared with her husband overwhelmed
her. Her hips lurching slowly and her
whole body shuddering. She prayed that
he felt the intimacy, too, that he shared her joy as they physically shared
their love. She felt a burning knot in
her stomach of pure, feminine possessivness as tiny orgasms rolled through her
being like the aftershocks of an earthquake.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 6 – Barbara wakes.
Slowly,
consciousness returned to Barbara as the light of the new day streamed in
through her window.
Sleepily,
she looked next to her, then to the other side. She was alone in bed. But
what else could she expect? Her
conscious mind told her that she wasn’t married. She had never been married, and she wasn’t married now. But her dreams just kept getting better and
better!
She
felt filled with a sense of well-being.
If she could enjoy sex this well in real life, maybe she should give up
this Batgirl nonsense and take up men!
And
she remembered her dreams with ‘her husband’.
Her memories of every dream she’d had with her husband were as clear as
a videotape. A videotape! She rose and started toward the hidden
closet, but she found she could barely walk, her insides felt so abraded. Sex was great, but sometimes the after
affects get to you, she thought! (But
if it had all been a dream, would she be experiencing these aftereffects?)
Opening
the hidden closet, she examined the camcorder tape she had installed shortly
after her first dream about her wedding night.
(She knew it was a dream, but it seemed so real . . . .)
She rewound the tape and pressed the “Play” button. And there she was, getting ready for bed. The time and date stamp was the previous night. She fast forwarded and watched herself settle into a deep sleep, occasionally stirring, dreaming normal dreams. She played to the end of the tape, watching for any indication of exceptional activity. She saw none. Soon, she witnessed her awakening and moving to the closet, and she turned off the tape. Absently, she checked the timestamp and it showed the correct time. But slowly, as she looked at the time stamp, a strange anomaly registered on her brain. Quickly calculating the difference between when she had gone to bed and when she awoke, she had slept for a little over eight hours. But the timer on the recorder indicated that only five and one half hours had been recorded!
The End
(probably)
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comments, both positive and negative.
Feedback is welcome at barnabus329@hotmail.com.
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