“ ... and on the social scene, Gotham’s best and brightest will be found at the Gotham Civic Center later tonight for Mayor Caruso’s Annual Children’s Benefit. The premiere event of the season, women the city over are still vying for a last minute invitation to what promises to be the most exciting night since...”

The voice of the radio announcer brought a cheerful smile to Barbara Gordon as she again let the warmth of the overhead shower splash across her breasts. Not only was she one of the fortunate few who would be going to the Mayor’s Benefit in a few hours time, she would be escorted by a member of the short list of Gotham City’s most eligible bachelors. - Edward Kendall. In fact, when the current list had come out last January, Kendall’s name had appeared right below those of Isoruko Yamaguci and Bruce Wayne.

Edward Kendall was the rising star of the City Council. Well educated at the finest schools both in this country and overseas, the 32 year old was both handsome and charming. The great grandson of “Black Jack” Kendall, Gotham’s legendary turn of the century Mayor, Edward Kendall was expected to be a front-runner in the next Mayoral election a mere two years away.

Running a soapy washrag between her legs, Barbara recalled her first meeting with Ed a mere four weeks before. It had been a Friday afternoon and she was waiting outside City Hall for her father, Police Commissioner James Gordon. As was their custom, they were going to have an early dinner together.

Barbara was greatly surprised when Ed had come up to her and introduced himself. She had seen him before of course, having attending many city functions with her father. He told her that he was a big supporter of her father and the job he’d done with the Police Department over the years. When James Gordon had finally appeared and told her that he’d be unable to have dinner, Ed had quickly offered to take his place.

Rising the last of the shampoo out of her hair, Barbara would’ve been hard pressed to remember what either of them had for dinner that evening. All she could recall of their first date was how deep were the blue of his eyes and how he never seemed to take them off of her. That and the fact that he had asked her out on a real date the following evening.

One date led to another and it wasn’t long before Barbara’s name was linked to Ed’s in the gossip columns. Truth was that the image of a couple didn’t really match the reality. It seemed like there was always something that got in the way. As one of the city’s shakers and movers, Ed Kendall was always on 24-hour call. Then there was of course, Barbara’s somewhat unusual hobby to add to the problem.

Given the current state of her personal life, again mostly due to the rather unusual way the 23-year-old redhead spent most of her nights, the last month had seemed almost like a dream. Barbara’s last relationship had ended almost nine months ago, her lover finally getting fed up with her many sudden disappearances. She truly hoped that this time, the relationship would have a more promising future.

Drying herself in front of the steam covered mirror, Barbara took a few moments to take stock of herself. She carefully examined the tiny mound of red hair she had so carefully trimmed before getting in the shower. If things worked out this evening as she planned, Ed would have a more than ample opportunity to appreciate her handiwork.

Next her attention shifted to the image of her upper body, particularly that of her soft firm breasts. While not exceeding large, they stood on their own without support and even she had to admit they were near perfect globes. She played with the pert nipples for a few moments, smiling as they sprang to life. They had always been very sensitive and given her current state of arousal, it took only a soft touch to bring them to erectness.

It had been quite some time since Barbara had enjoyed the feel of a man tight against her. There was only so much satisfaction she could get from her fingers or the small battery powered vibrator she kept hidden in her night table. Lately it seemed like every sensual touch sent her hormones raging.

Most people still tended to think of her as the skinny little girl who had her nose buried in the books when she graduated High School five years ago. The conservative wardrobe she wore as the Deputy Chief of Research at the Main Branch of the Gotham City Library helped maintain that image. In actuality, ever since her first day in College, Barbara had spent as much time in the gym as in the library. The result being a lean yet muscular athletic form. A form that unhappily, Edward had of yet only had a sampling of. Hopefully, tonight that was going to change.

Remembering the limo ride home from the hockey game a few nights ago sent a warm flush through Barbara’s body. Ed had a passion for hockey that was second only to his passion for politics. During the special exhibition game, Barbara had watched the normally reserved Councilman jump and shout like a little boy. It was a fire she was determined to keep burning as the night went on.

It had been late and the night was warm. A few kisses quickly led to more adventurous actions and it wasn’t long before Barbara’s dress was down around her waist and Ed was partaking of her delights. Surprised to find herself as horny as a high school girl, Barbara had her hand down his pants and was unzipping them to demonstrate her oral skills only to be interrupted by the loud chimes of his cellular phone.

A rather large water main break in his district had brought the evening to an abrupt end; leaving a rather aroused Barbara forced to take of herself that evening.

Smiling at herself in the mirror, Barbara was determined that tonight would have a much different ending. And it wouldn’t be in the back seat of a limousine, no many how plush. She had already reserved a room for them at the Carlton Arms, one of the finest hotels in the city. A late midnight dinner with herself as desert.

“Babs, honey.” the naked woman said to her reflection in a mirthful voice. “You are definitely a woman who needs to get laid!”

Once in her bedroom, Barbara carefully laid out the gown she’d borrowed for the evening. A stunning emerald gown, it was far more than she could’ve ever afforded. It had been a gift from once of her closest and oldest friends, Sara Lynn Collins.

The outfit was rather daring, and Barbara was certainly not was well endowed as Sara Lynn. Still, it would make the most of what she had, especially after her friend had it altered to fit her. Barbara had protested at first but Sara Lynn had insisted. After all, it’s not like I’m going to get any more invitations to all those society functions, she had proclaimed. So if Barbara didn’t take it, it was going to wind up going to Goodwill.

Barbara smiled at the thought of this designer original handing on a dummy in the window of a second hand shop. Sara Lynn would’ve done it too. She had that kind of sense of humor. That’s why they had been friends for so long, ever since they had meet in freshman year of high school. In fact, it was Sara Lynn who was responsible for her getting the coveted job at the Gotham Main Library right out of college. Her father sat on the Board of Trustees and wouldn’t deny his little girl anything.

That was of course before Daddy’s little girl had announced to the world that she preferred other women to men, sending a shock wave thought their social set. Most of her friends had deserted her, but Barbara had stood fast. A few snickered that it was because the mousy librarian had her own lesbian attraction to the knockout blonde. In truth, Barbara simply didn’t see any reason why she should lose so good a friend simply because she preferred bedmates of the same gender. Mentally, she reminded herself to write Sara Lynn a thank you note it the morning, letting her know how the night turned out.

Laid out next to the sheer green outfit was a pair of the sexiest bra and panties Barbara could find. They were expensive as well, but at least still within her means. The bra, what little there was of it, would be near invisible beneath her evening gown. The real benefit of it would be when that dress came off. Likewise, the panties would barely cover even her tightly trimmed red hair, not to mention the open slit in the center.

Putting on the lingerie, Barbara quickly realized that both pieces were as fragile as they looked. As much as she had paid for them, they would probably only last a single wearing. Well she thought with a smile, they only have to last until morning. The smile turned to a wicked grin as she amended that thought to only “halfway to morning.”

“Beep ... beep ... beep ... beep ... beep...”

“Oh damn!” Barbara said out loud as the unexpected sound of her beeper suddenly sounded from her night table. “Not now.”

The Senior Administrator for the Library was away for the weekend and it was Barbara’s turn to be on call. Hopefully, it was something that a quick phone call would take care of.

Quickly she crossed the room, picked up the beeper and looked at the digital display. Her green eyes opened wide when she saw the message.

“Oh shit, not now!” she exclaimed.

In appearance, the small black beeper was like all the other Waynetech pagers carried by the library staff. But if you were to take it apart, the microcircuitry would tell a different tale. Aside from being coded to receive messages for Barbara Gordon, a secondary circuit had been installed to allow her to intercept messages sent on a private unauthorized frequency. Coded so that only the recipient would understand the message, the translation sent a chill through Barbara’s near naked form.

For a second time she scrolled the message, until there was no way she could ignore the meaning. It was an emergency signal. A simple two-digit code followed by a set of coordinates. Built into the small unit was a receiver for a global positioning system that was accurate to a couple of hundred feet. What she found surprising was that the end of the message was missing. There was no sender id.

“I guess it could be a mistake.” The redhead said to herself, knowing full well that she didn’t believe it. It was just a failed attempt to allow her keep the fantasy that her evening wasn’t ruined for a few more seconds.

There was no question of her ignoring the signal. No thought that someone else would surely respond. That decision had been made two years before on the night of the annual Policeman’s Costume Ball. The details as fresh in her mind as they had been that cold night.

It was going to be a surprise for her father. It had started out as simple as that. Image the look on the Police Commissioner’s face when midnight came and the mask of the girl in the Batgirl costume came off to reveal his own daughter. Wouldn’t that be something?

But fate had a way of intervening. Enroute to the ball she’d had car trouble and because of it was a little late. She almost didn’t notice the limousine pulled off the road. When she did, there hadn’t been any thought of ignoring someone who needed help. She’d been brought up with a strong sense of public service.

It turned out that the car wasn’t broken down; it had been forced off the road. Barbara had stumbled into an attempted kidnapping. Without a thought for her own safety, the girl in the purple and gold costume jumped into the fray. The hours spent in the gym and dojo paid off as she quickly dispatched two of the five assailants. To both her surprise and relief, the intended victim and his chauffeur suddenly came to life and overcame the remaining thugs. Not the sort of thing she would’ve expected of a man of Bruce Wayne’s reputation.

Barbara couldn’t believe the incredible rush she’d gotten during the fight. That and the sense of satisfaction that she’d made a difference.

It brought to mind a night when she was 16 and spied into the library to see her father conferring with The Batman. The teenage had been totally infatuated with the dark cloaked crusader. He stood 6’2” with a physique that no amount of Hollywood padding could duplicate. Barbara sat there in the dark, listening to his deep tones. Her father had described The Batman many times to her, but no description could match the reality. The people of Gotham were of many minds about the Darknight, but no one could ever question the fact that he did indeed make a difference.

The memory fresh in her mind, she didn’t hesitate when the millionaire playboy had asked her name.

“You can call me Batgirl.” she’d said with a smile before disappearing into the night.

Yet to this day, she had never really understood the silly smile on Bruce Wayne’s face as she said those words. It was as if he was enjoying some private joke.

“Might as well get this over with.” Barbara said to herself after pausing for the few moments it’d taken for all those memories to rush through her mind.

The call to Ed Kendall had been both brief and loud. The Councilman was somewhat unsatisfied with Barbara’s statement that an emergency had come up that forced her to cancel their date, and no she couldn’t really explain what the emergency was. During the brief conversation, Barbara got the distinct impression that Ed was more upset that he had to go to the dinner solo rather than being concerned that she had some sort of unknown problem. When his car passed into a tunnel and cut off the cellular signal, Barbara let out a sigh of relief. Tomorrow she’d make it all right again.

Dropping the phone back on the cradle, Barbara immediately pulled her city street atlas off the bookshelf and opened it to the coordinates contained in the emergency signal.

“Craig and Yvonne.” she said to herself and a manicured finger traced the outline of the intersection of the large map. “Only about a mile from here.”

Leaving the book where it lay, Barbara quickly began to change clothes. Already, her mind was shifting gears, putting her into what she always referred to as her “combat mode”.

Quickly replacing the delicate underwear with a solid plain white sports bra and panties, Barbara walked up to the natural brick rear wall of her apartment and pressed on a loose brick on the bottom row. With a soft sliding sound of brick against brick, a small three-foot section of the wall gave way. Behind it was a small room leading to an abandoned freight elevator. When the building was built back in the 1920’s, the first floor had been a notorious speakeasy. The hidden room and elevator had been used for storage in case of a raid.

About the size of a walk in closet, a function that later tenants had used it for, it was just large enough for a small changing table. Hanging on a hook on the wall was a modified version of that purple and gold costume she’d worn to the costume ball.

Quickly she donned it, enjoying the feel of the soft lycra against her flesh. The costume itself had been a gift from The Batman after she had helped save the life of a visiting official last year. Identical to her original costume, both the cape and key parts of the costume itself had reinforced sections of a lightweight kelvar compound. As effective as the large bulky vests worn by Gotham’s Finest, the material was incredibly expensive. Barbara had once figured it out and if she’d paid for the costume it would’ve been over five thousand dollars. Stored in a footlocker under the table was a duplicate suit. She sometimes wondered if Batman actually paid for the outfits or someone made them for him free. Perhaps someone he’d helped at some time or another.

Adjusting the gold utility belt around her waist, Barbara then reached for her cowl, which rested on a Styrofoam head. Inside the cowl was a shoulder length red haired wig, of a color just a few shades darker than her own natural hair. Just another part of the illusion. Once that was securely in place, she took a final moment to check her reflection in the full-length mirror attached to the wall. Batgirl was ready to roll.

Closing the small brick door before heading down the freight elevator, Batgirl took a fleeting last look at the unworn gown draped across her bed.

“Another night, Babs.” she sighed to herself.

Two minutes later the Bat-Cycle roared into the warm night air, exiting one of the maze of interconnecting alleys behind her building. Her gold and purple cape flapped in the breeze as she headed toward the waterfront. Batgirl loved the feel of the wind in her face, almost as mush as she normally loved the vibration of the powerful engine between her legs. Tonight, the oscillation only helped to add to her frustrations. Turning into a side street, she tried to concentrate and focused her thoughts on finding the source of the emergency signal. She suddenly remembered her father mentioning that The Batman was out of town for a few days. Could the signal be some kind of trap? Should she call for a police back up?

“I guess I’d better decide.” she said to herself as she pulled her cycle to a sudden stop.

Once, long ago, the neighborhood was a bustling center of commerce. That was in the days when Gotham Harbor was filled with ships bringing goods to and from the far corners of the globe. Now all that stood in mute testament to those days were two long abandoned warehouses on opposite corners. Each had a few lights showing through dirty windows. The signal could’ve come from either one.

Pondering her decision for a few moments, Batgirl decided to check out the situation before hitting the panic button. A faded sign over the closest building read Pennyworth Imports, as good a place to start as any.

Cement blocks sealed the main entrance, so walking through the front door was definitely out. Not that she had ever planned that approach. The four-story building had a fire escape, but it looked too dilapidated to even hold her weight.

“Guess I’ll have to do this the hard way.” Batgirl said to herself.

Removing a small but powerful air gun from her utility belt, Batgirl fitted it with a grappling hook and silk line. A soft pop filled the air as a powerful air cartridge sent the three-sided metal attachment high up into the air until it cleared the upper ledge of the dark building. A quick pull on the line sent the hook skidding across the roof until it attached itself to a drainpipe. After a hard tug, which assured the purple suited heroine, that it would support her weight, she took a deep breath and began to walk up the wall.

Pausing at the first lighted window on the second floor, Batgirl glanced inside - the room was empty. Quickly she moved onward and upward.

Batgirl had lost track of the number of windows she’d spied into over the last few years of nocturnal patrols. How many windows and the secrets they held. But among the hundreds, two would always stand out in her memory.

The first occurred only blocks from her own apartment. She was climbing over the rooftops on Douglas Street when she realized she was passing the apartment of her supervisor, Donna Latore. The temptation to look inside proved too much to resist.

Imagine her shock when she spied three women lying nude on the living room floor, hotly engaged in a demonstration of lesbian lust. It was all Batgirl could do to pull herself away from the large bay window when she recognized the graying woman in the center of the three-way as Donna. She had never been able to look at her since then without having that image come to mind.

The second had been just a few weeks ago when she was crossing the balcony of an exclusive west side apartment house. She’d spotted a figure in black coming out of one of the other apartments and had taken off after him. At first she’d only glanced inward for a second, but what she’d witnessed caused her to stop and look again.

Sitting on the couch that faced the balcony doors was a boy who couldn’t be more than 16 years old. He was totally nude. Kneeling in front of him was a gray haired, heavyset woman who was equally naked. Forgetting for the moment all about the burglar, Batgirl watched for the longest time as the 40ish woman took the boy into her mouth and performed an energetic oral act which soon erupted in a messy climax. Then, her face covered with the milky white residue, the woman kissed the boy hotly, replacing his now softening cock with a more than eager tongue. Before vanishing in the night, Batgirl couldn’t help but note that both boy and woman bore more than a passing resemblance to each other.

Only a week later, Barbara was reading the social pages of the Gotham Times when she saw a photograph of both of them, this time impeccably clothed. The caption read, Mrs. Diane Worthington, shown here with her son, Roger, was one of the Mothers of the Year honored by the Daughters of the Revolution at their annual awards dinner. It was almost a half hour before she could stop laughing.

Her thoughts again turned serious as she neared the third floor and the second lit window. Inside was a table covered with an empty pizza box and several take out cartons. Not that unusual, it could belong to a watchman. Some of these old building still had them to help prevent squatters.

That idea quickly faded when she saw the dark shape of an Uzi machine pistol hanging over the chair. Not exactly standard issue for a rent a cop.

Batgirl jerked back and flattened against the ledge as a shadow passed across the window. Her move was instinctive, sudden enough that she was sure she hadn’t been seen. She waited a few moments, then carefully peered inside once more. There was no sign of the dark figure and the weapon no longer hung across the back of the chair.

“Maybe I should call for that backup after all.” she thought to herself.

Her hand slid down to the compartment of her utility belt to where she normally carried her batcomlink. All she had to do was switch to the secondary band and the police would also pick up the emergency signal she broadcast.

“Oh shit!” Batgirl said to herself as she held the small transmitter in her hand and pressed the transmit button.

Long seconds passed as she watched the LED display flash red instead of green. The batteries were dead. She was on her own.

“Mother always said there’d be days like this.” she said to herself in a false bravado.

With a shrug of her shoulders, the caped woman pressed away from the ledge and continued her journey upward. Her original plan still held, the best place to enter the building would be the roof.

The lock on the roof door was so rotten that it only took a hard kick to knock it open. Silently she made her way down the stairwell, taking a few moments to familiarize herself with the layout of the building. This came in the form of an old fire department evacuation plan that still hung in a shattered case on the fourth floor wall.

The top two floors of Pennyworth Imports was all office space and from the look of the layers of dust on the floor had been unoccupied for years. The third floor, the one on which Batgirl had seen that shadow consisted of one-room offices that lined a balcony set up. If you stood at the railing you could look down at the vast open storage area of the first floor below.

Stealthily, Batgirl made her way around the balcony perimeter, staying low enough so that she couldn’t be seen from below.

Half way around the perimeter, Batgirl could hear the sound of voices below her. They were too unintelligible to be understood, but gave her a direction. Practically crawling, she moved toward them.

The voices became clearer and louder as she neared what had once been the loading dock. Clearing the last corner, she was able to look down and see the speakers.

“Robin!” Batgirl exclaimed under her breath as she spotted the red and green figure handing from an overhead support beam.

The Teen Wonder was handcuffed and gagged, but he didn’t appear to be hurt. Batgirl removed a small pair of high-powered binoculars from her belt. The glasses had been a gift from her father on her last birthday after she had mentioned that she was planning to take up bird watching. As she brought the expensive lenses into focus, Batgirl wondered if other crimefighters suffered from lack of funds as often as she did.

“If I ever write my memoirs,” she mused as the image cleared before her. “I should call them How to be a crimefighter on a budget.”

The image of Robin now closed to within a few feet, confirming her original impression that he was unhurt. The crossbeam he was handcuffed to was just high enough for him to be suspended two inches off the floor. Some sort of soiled rag had been shoved into his mouth, cutting off any protests he might have made.

Three women stood around Robin and Batgirl turned her attention to the oldest. As her features filled her field of vision, she recalled an entry from the bootlegged copy she’d made of her father’s crime files.

“Ma Parker.” she said to herself as she matched the gray haired woman with her mug shot.

Searching her memory, Batgirl recalled some of the facts that appeared beneath the mug shots of Sarah May Parker. Age 54, first arrested in 1960 for her involvement in the death of her husband Peter. Twenty-sex years her senior, the well to do businessman had managed to sire two daughters before he died from the bite of a poisonous spider. While she had managed to avoid a conviction, it was enough for his powerful family to get her excluded from his estate. In the town they’d grown up in, the law was whatever the powerful Parker Clan said it was. Two months later, she’d appeared at the payroll office of Parker Industries and robbed it at gunpoint. Over the next thirty years she’d amassed a record that including armed robbery, kidnapping and extortion. Eventually, her daughter’s followed in her footsteps.

On her right and left stood younger women whose resemblance left no doubt that they were her daughters. While Sarah May had been a rather attractive young woman, transforming into a hefty older woman - both daughter’s had skipped right to that stage. Large breasted and husky, they looked like either could fit right in with a gang of longshoremen.

Both were armed, as was Ma Parker. The short haired brunette on the right, who Batgirl would later identify as Betty Sue, carried a sawed off shotgun and a small snub nose revolver in her belt. Her sister, Mary Beth, preferred the more powerful 45 caliber automatic. Slung over her shoulder, the long haired sandy blonde carried a M-16. She’d spent 6 months in the Army before being tossed out with a dishonorable discharged, taking from it a preference to military hardware.

The absence of the Uzi she had spotted before reminded Batgirl that Parker had later had a third daughter, one which would be in her early twenties about now. She had to have been the shadow upstairs. Until she was sure where she was, or unless she could get all four of them together, the crimefighter would have to bide her time. Hopefully they wouldn’t do anything that would force her to move prematurely.

“For a punk kid, he really is kind of cute.” Ma Parker said as she stood next to Robin. “Wouldn’t you say so girls?”

With loud laughter, both of them agreed.

“In fact, maybe I should find out just how cute he really is.” she added.

Parker took a step closer, blocking Batgirl’s view for a moment. At first, she thought that the older woman was planning to unmask the Teen Wonder. Then when she shifted, the mask was still in place. A look of concern filled Robin’s face and as Batgirl’s magnified gaze dropped downward, she saw why. Ma Parker had her hand down his green shorts.

“My, this is impressive.” she said as she massaged his cock and balls.

Both daughters moved closer to get a better look, again temporarily obstructing Batgirl’s vision. By the time they moved, Robin’s shorts were down on the filthy floor and his rapidly enlarging cock was filling Ma Parker’s hand.

“This gets better and better.” she quipped as she stroked the organ back and forth. “I bet you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Robin remained silent, but the magnified view in front of her told Batgirl that as much as he was trying not to, he was enjoying it.

“I’d bet he’d tell you how much he enjoys it.” Betty Sue said. “If Mary Beth hadn’t shoved those panties in his mouth when she tied him up.”

“Hey, he’s got nothing to complain about there.” Mary Beth laughed. “He’s getting a real taste of honey. I wore that pair all week.”

“And frigging yourself in them every night too.” Betty Sue added.

“Hey, it was that or one of those oily rags from that barrel.” chuckled Mary Beth.

Imagining the residue all over those panties, Batgirl wondered if Robin might not have preferred one of the rags.

“He may be the Teen Wonder.” Ma Parker remarked. “But he’s man sized where it counts.”

With than, the older woman bent down and took his now fully erect cock into her mouth. Batgirl watched in fascination as his member slid in and out between her lips. A quick look at the expression on his face attested to the woman’s oral skills.

In a way, it reminded Batgirl of the night she’d watched Mrs. Worthington and her son. Robin might not be as willing a participant as Roger, but it was obvious that he was enjoying it just as much. Listening to the cheers of the two daughters, Batgirl also became aware of a dampness between her own legs. It’d been quite some time since she’d had the taste of a man in her own mouth.