“That was a great interview!” gushed Anita McCall as she and Dr Susannah Lascelles left the Gotham Museum of Modern Art. “Don’t mention it,” replied the tall woman with the long curly blonde hair, “It was a pleasure in every way. Not only did I get the chance to talk about my life’s’ passion for art but I did it with someone who is quite a work of art herself!”
Anita laughed nervously. “Oh,” she chided, “I’m sure there are plenty more pretty girls in this fair city!” “Don’t sell yourself short!” exclaimed Susannah, “Let me look at you!”
The taller woman placed her hands on Anita’s hips and looked her up and down. “Yeah,” she continued, “I’m liking this brown hair. It frames that pretty face with those big, brown eyes. And pouty lips.” Susannah was licking her own lips now, something Anita noticed and it caused her to back away. “Tits look quite small,” continued Susannah, “But I can tell by that tight skirt you’ve got a sweet ass and good legs.”
“Er, thanks... , “ replied Anita awkwardly.
“I bet the guys at that newspaper of yours love it when you strut in, shaking that butt!”
“I didn’t get my job by letting men leer at me!” said Anita angrily, “I got it by been a good journalist!”
Susannah paused, then breathed... “God you look hot when you’re angry!” Her steely blue eyes met the widening brown ones of Anita.
Susannah smiled, then pursed her lips and leaned close.
“Back off!” yelled Anita, “Back off I say!” With both hands she shoved the startled Susannah backwards.
Both women stared at the other, flushed and breathing heavily.
“I-I’m sorry,” said Susannah eventually, “I thought you were ... were ... interested. Clearly I got your signals wrong.” “What signals!?” demanded Anita.
Without waiting for an answer the brunette continued, “I’m calling a cab!”
“NO!” said Susannah loudly, “I-I mean ... no ... please don’t. I said I’ll give you a lift home and I still want to. Please let me ... to show there are no hard feelings.”
Anita sighed. “OK,” she said, “I guess it’ll be ok.”
In an awkward silence the two women walked along the street.
“Getting dark quick, eh?” said Susannah in a forced way. “Yeah,” answered Anita, “How far is your car?” “Not far. If I wasn’t giving you a lift I worry about you. This is the area where that poor woman was found last week.”
Anita glanced about, noticing how dark and misty their surroundings now were. Her mind drifted to the woman that Susannah had mentioned. Her naked corpse was dumped in an alleyway very near here. Gotham City Police was identified as the third victim of a serial killer known as ‘The Artist’. At the paper Anita had been disgusted by how her male colleagues had rushed to write lurid stories about how the women had been kidnapped, raped and then tortured to death.
“Why is he called ‘The Artist’? asked Susannah, casually. “All the victims have been found near buildings connected with art - galleries, museums etc.”
“This way!” said Susannah, “Not far now!” Anita hesitated. “Up there?” she asked, “This grimy alley? Is it safe?” “Of course!” smiled Susannah, “Especially as there is two of us!” She gently, but firmly took Anita’s arm.
With a nervous smile Anita agreed.
There was no-one about and Anita could feel her heart beating a little faster. The only noise was the tap-tap-tapping of Susannah’s long black boots on the hard ground.
“Art is at it’s best when there is a contrast, don’t you think?” Susannah was prattling on, “Light and dark, Beauty and ugliness ... these are my current muses.”
To Anita’s immense relief she could see that the alleyway would soon turn into a road where many cars - surely one of them would be Susannah’s? - were parked.
Susannah could see the fear in Anita’s face. She took a reassuring firmer hold of her arm.
“So... , “ said Susannah, “You prefer guys, eh? What kind of guys?”
Before Anita could answer both women were blinded by the dazzling headlights of a car that screeched to a halt right in front of them.
“Well well!” said a deep voice, “What we gots here?” Anita opened her eyes and gasped as she saw four men getting out of the car. All the men were big, black and mean-looking. “Looks like two lonely babes,” said the man nearest Susannah, “Looking for some loving?”
“Stand aside!” said Susannah, her voice in a high pitch, “Leave us alone!” All four were now chuckling, closing in on the two nervous women. “We have money!” blurted Susannah, “Take it!” She held out her handbag to the nearest thug and gestured at him to relieve her off it. He obliged with a smirk. “Quickly, Anita!” hissed Susannah, “Give them your valuables and we may get out of here!” “Yeah Anita,” snarled one of the men as he produced a knife, “Be a good lil girl.” Anita could see the terror on Susannah’s face as her eyes implored Anita to hand over her bag. Reluctantly she pulled it off her shoulder and held it out.
With a sudden move Anita flung the bag into the face of the man. “RUN!” she yelled, shooting up towards the road as fast as she could.
Within a few steps she was fighting for breath. The combination of her heels and tight skirt restricted her ability to run, her legs feeling like they were dragging weights. Her looked back and gasped as she saw how close her pursuers were.
“Bitch!” “Get her!” Anita crashed into a cardboard box and almost feel over. Again she looked back. No sign of Susannah. Anita fervently hoped that she’d fled the other way and at least she would escape.
“Help!” Anita yelped. Then she felt her jacket been grabbed. She was hauled back and then flung towards the alley wall. With a crash she slammed into a collection of metal trashcans and hit the ground. Stunned she was incapable of getting up as a big black seized her. She lashed out and the man was surprised to discover that he only had hold of an empty jacket.
“Help!” Anita yelled as she found her voice, “Rape! Murder! Help!” Her cries were stopped as a powerful hand took a firm grip on her arm and hauled her to her feet. Wildly she swung her fist but missed and in return was slammed into the wall. Stunned Anita couldn’t react as her throat was grabbed. “Fucking bitch!” spat the man. In desperation Anita drove her knee into his groin, drawing a grunt of discomfort if not pain.
She thrashed about to free herself but wasn’t strong enough to get away. With renewed venom the thug seized her slender throat again and started to choke her.
Anita could feel her windpipe been crushed as the man’s dark hate-filled eyes bored into hers.
“Enough!” said the other negro, knocking his confederates’ arm off Anita, “We got her now!”
Anita took a deep breath as soon as she was once more able to breathe and then gasped again as a knife was put at her throat. With his prize secure the man kept his knife at Anita’s throat and roughly pushed her back towards the car. One of her shoes had come of in the struggle and the cold, stony ground was painful for her bare foot. She felt tearful.
With a groan of dismay Anita now saw that Susannah hadn’t escaped either. Another of the thugs had a firm hold of her long frizzy locks as he pushed her face into the car hood. Susannah was whimpering in evident fear, her condition not helped by the man vigorously grinding his loins into her butt. “Blonde pussy!” he laughed, “Ain’t tasted blonde for a while!”
“Oh God NO!” wailed Susannah, “Just don’t kill us!”
“Git the bags!” snarled the man holding Anita, clearly the leader, “An’ let’s git going!”
“Wait! WAIT!” pleaded Susannah as she was been shoved towards one of the car doors.
The men paused and let her speak.
“I’m a very rich woman,” Susannah jabbered, “Let us go and I’ll make it worth your while!” The men said nothing for a moment and then as one burst out laughing.
The man with the knife at Anita’s throat pulled her tight, gently brushed her hair and licked her ear. Then he pulled her round to where Susannah was stood and pushed her alongside.
“What about you, cutie pie?” he grinned right in Anita’s face, “What you gonna offer we fine young black gentlemen?”
Anita could feel her heart beating so fast it felt that it was about to burst thru her chest. She’d never been so scared in her life as she was now.
She looked in to the eyes of the man in front of her and she could feel the foul mixture of hatred and lust pouring out of him. These thugs were going to rape her and Susannah and any begging she did would only add to his enjoyment.
“Fuck you, you scum!” she bawled as she spat as much as she was able in his face.
No-one moved. Then the man used his free hand to wipe away the spittle. He glanced over at Susannah then back to Anita.
“All the money in this damned city ain’t enough to stop us banging your sexy white asses! Now git in that fuckin’ car!”
Both women were shoved into the back seat of the car, flanked either side by menace. The other two blacks got in the front seats and the car sped off.
On the cramped back seats was a combination of shaking terror and smug exultation.
“My oh my!” grinned the toothy man in the front passenger seat as he leered back at the blonde and the brunette, “You two are a pair of hot bitches!” Anita’s jaw dropped as she saw that in his hand was a gun that was been casually waved around.
Thankfully the knife was now no longer at her throat, but Anita was aware that it was pointing at her stomach.
Susannah’s left hand touched Anita’s right hand and instinctively the women clasped hands together. Anita could feel how cold and shaking Susannah’s hand was. She looked over and their eyes met. “Be brave!” Anita whispered.
“You are one feisty babe,” smiled the man next to Anita, “Gonna be a real pleasure grinding you down.” His big hand moved to her breast and gently squeezed. “Uhhh!” Anita gasped as the hand moved to the top of her blouse and yanked it open, exposing her bra.
“Rape is a crime!” Anita said steadily, “Please think about what you are about to do...”
She was ignored as that big black hand moved to her bare knee. She could feel it’s powerful sweaty touch and was repelled by it. The hand slowly moved up her thigh, then halted - frustrated by the tightness of her skirt.
With a grunt the big negro used the wicked serrated side of his knife to cut apart the skirt. Paralysed with fear Anita was a helpless onlooker as the knife was withdrawn and the hand returned to venture further up her bare thigh. The beast was patiently moving slowly to torment her. The fingertip of his middle finger was now at her cotton panties.
“I gits the idea yo ain’t gone black before!” whispered the voice at her ear. His tongue lolled out and licked her ear. In disgust Anita squirmed back as much as she able but the man then seized her hair, tugged it painfully back and pulled her close enough for his foul tongue to get right inside her dainty hearing organ.
Anita gritted her teeth and looked away. In wide-eyed shock she saw that the man holding Susannah had pulled his pants down to reveal his huge chocolate-colored dick. A stiffening monster with the tip glistening. As Anita stoically tried to ignore the incessant tickling between her legs she watched in horror as Susannah’s free hand was forcibly guided towards the black dick and her slim fingers firmly enclosed around it.
While her hand was forced into black cock service Susannah’s mouth was been invaded by the hot tongue of her captor.
Male slurping mixed with female whimpering was the sound track to the interminable trek thru the dark Gotham night.
Anita was becoming tearful. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back and tried to place some mental distance between her mind and the relentless assault on her body.
And no-one was going to save her. Or so it seemed.
Anita was wrong. For across the dark night was hurtling a vision in black. With long ginger locks and an awesome rack.
The Dark Damsel was desperate to track down this ‘Artist’ serial killer. That he was slaughtering women just like her civilian alter ego gave her an extra incentive. The fact that the poor victims were subjected to such savage torture before death made her blood boil - this monster must be stopped!
She’d been patrolling Gotham for almost two weeks. To her immense frustration the last victim had been killed during that time. Batgirl had to assume that the poor woman had been abducted so quickly she didn’t have the chance to utter a cry.
“Rape! Murder! Help!”
Anita’s calls for help as she struggled burst into Batgirl’s consciousness. Faster than a speeding bullet the Batcycle hurtled across the city. Just at the moment Anita and Susannah were been forced into the back seats of the car the superheroine was stopping a few feet behind.
In seconds Batgirl had assessed the situation. Low-life street scum abducting women off the sidewalk meant only one thing - gangbangers!
The urge to simply swoop in and fight whatever was there was almost overpowering, but Batgirl had the self-control to pause. The previous victims of ‘The Artist’ killer had clearly been butchered at an address. Batgirl needed to hold back to see if this address would be revealed.
It tore at Batgirl’s heart to imagine the frightened whimperings of the two women in the car. The audible hateful cackling of the men made her bristle with righteous anger.
But neither woman was been raped. Batgirl felt sure of that. So she took the hard-hearted decision to wait.
As the car moved off Batgirl fired a tracking device at the rear. P-ding! It hit and the magnet held. Now Batgirl could follow the vehicle and not be seen.
The Batcycle followed the car thru the mean streets of Gotham...
Unaware that a rescuer was so close at hand Anita was enduring continued molestation.
Then the man with his tongue in her ear suddenly broke off and turned to the driver... “Ok, Jamal!” he said, “That’s enough aimless driving let’s git to the playhouse!” “Whee-Doggie!” clapped the toothy front seat passenger, “At friggin’ last! These babes are making my balls boil!!”
The car was soon pulling up to a wire fence that surrounded a small non-descript gray warehouse in an industrial estate. Toothy produced a remote control and used it to open the gate. The car drove into the yard and parked near to a small metal door
“Out!” ordered the leader, seizing Anita’s arm and pulling her out into the cool night air.
Coming to a halt over the road Batgirl intently studied the scene. She had started to become concerned by the vehicle’s seemingly aimless meandering round the East Side of Gotham. Briefly she thought that this was some kind of rape-car but the movement of the figures inside suggested not. Well never mind. They’d got to wear they were going.
Two females and four males. All the men were carrying knives of varying size. One had a knuckle duster, another a small hand gun. Three of them were physically quite imposing, the one pulling the brunette particularly so. But they were what they appeared to be - street trash, probably recruited from a nearby basketball court or pool hall. In any fight they’d be only one winner and it would be the one wearing the black armor.
The leader had twisted Anita’s right arm back behind her and was pushing her towards the door.
“Open it Ricky!” he barked at the toothy gang member.
“I always forget this damn number!” Ricky said as his finger jabbed at a bright silver keypad in the wall. Eventually he put in the right code and the door swung open.
“Here we go, Missy McCall!” said the man holding Anita, “Welcome to your new home!” “How ... how do you know my name?” The man paused and stared at Anita. “It was on some ID I found when I went thru your purse,” interjected Tyrone.
The leader smiled and pushed Anita into the dark interior of the building. Susannah and her hulking escort followed. When everyone was inside the door slammed shut.
Unbeknownst to everyone Batgirl was now right outside. She’d thought about charging in as soon as the door opened but decided to hold back to see if these mindless scum answered to a bigger criminal mastermind.
The ginger goddess bit her lower lip impatiently.
Inside one of the gang flicked a switch and several fluorescent lights lit up the interior. This consisted of a single room with a high ceiling. At first Anita thought it was a gym as they were several pieces of gym equipment dotted about.
Then she gasped.
What she thought was gym equipment was nothing of the kind. There was a six foot wooden cross with manacles at the end, a wooden stock with holes for a head and wrists. There was an unlit brazier with branding irons. A large wooden table with manacles and blood stains. Oddly enough there was a running machine, but the manacles suggested it wasn’t for getting fit. From the ceiling hung a noose and other ropes ending in more restraints.
“Dear God!” wailed Susannah, “It’s some sort of depraved sex dungeon!”
“That’s right, babes!” laughed the gang leader, “An’ you’ll be playing here for a while!” The two women were man-handled towards a black leather sofa that sat somewhat incongruously in the far corner.
“Take your time to look around, cutie!” was said in Anita’s ear.
She did and now noticed that there were many pictures on the wall. Renaissance art resplendent with many fleshy female nudes.
Her eyes took in dirty blue and white mattress. “That’s for some good ol’fashioned fucking!”
Interspersed between the paintings on the wall were racks full of weapons like whips. clamps and baseball bats.
“This here is our latest works of art, like ‘em bitch?”
The gang leader indicated three deep frames. Inside each was ladies underwear - bra and matching panties. At the base of each frame was a type-written note with a woman’s name and a date. Anita was confounded and then she recognised one the names - these were the victims of the ‘Artist’ serial killer!
Anita’s heart skipped a beat, for there on the floor was a frame, empty but with the name ‘Anita McCall’ at the base.
“Good grief!!” gasped Anita, “This ‘Artist’ serial killer isn’t one man, its four! You four!”
All of the men found this highly amusing and were laughing as Anita and Susannah were pushed down on the sofa.
“C’mon boys!” said the leader, “Let’s get ready to play!” Straightaway all four men started to undress, pulling off their clothes to expose their muscular torsos. Grinning all the while at the trembling white women in seated in from of them.
Suddenly Susannah grabbed Anita’s hand with her own. Earnestly she gazed into Anita’s eyes.
“Anita,” she whispered, “We need to do exactly as they say! It’s our only hope!” “Look Around! Don’t you see?” responded Anita “They’re not just rapists, they’re serial killers!” “I know I know!” said Susannah, “But let’s do as they say! It’ll keep us alive for longer!”
The men’s pants were coming off now. And their man-hoods were out and alive.
“I can’t I can’t!” said Anita. Every feminist bone in her body was repelled by the thought of submitting to rape. She should fight. If she was to be violated if should only be after she’d been beaten to a pulp and her clothes ripped off. Not by meekly surrendering...
“Listen!” she said, “I’ll leap at them to keep them occupied while you make a run for it!” Susannah was clearly appalled by this idea.
“It’ll be hopeless!” she said, close to sobbing, “How could I get past that door? It’s solid titanium!” Her grip on Anita’s hand tightened. “Please! I beg you! Let’s try to satisfy them! We may then get a chance to escape!”
Reluctantly Anita nodded.
“On your feet, bitches!” snarled Tyrone.
Slowly both women rose.
Anita was staring at the floor for what seemed like an age. When she finally looked up the leader was looking right into her eyes. “None of the last three babes lasted long in here,” he smiled, “I’ve got high hopes for you, babe! Reckon you’ll last quite a while. Mebbe give bitch number five a good time to go against!”
All of the men were naked now, naked and each packing a knife of varying shades of nastiness.
“Git naked, you bitches!” snarled the leader, “I wanna see some white tits!”
Instantly Susannah took off her coat and put it aside. Her jacket swiftly followed. Next she was tugging open her expensive silk blouse. “You blondes are such fuckin’ nymphos!” sneered one of the watching men as he stroked his cock.
Anita looked at Susannah as the blonde removed her blouse. She could appreciate what a stunningly beautiful woman she was, that long curly blonde hair resting on those bare pale shoulders. Her firm perfect breasts straining inside that lacy white bra. It broke Anita’s heart that such a beautiful person was about to be destroyed so brutally. The bra came off to reveal Susannah’s magnificently full breasts. Defiantly she stared back at her leering captors. “Stop looking at your friends tits!” sneered Tyorne, “Show us yours!” “Yeah! Stop teasing and start stripping!” Ricky Toothy barked.
Anita could feel her legs turning to jelly, her stomach churning. With trembling fingers she managed to undo the top button of her blouse. She forced her fingers to move down to the next button.
Suddenly other things happened.
Outside Batgirl could wait no longer. It had been too long. There clearly no criminal mastermind coming. Those poor women needed to be rescued. NOW!
The door was new and seemed far stronger than was usual for this type of structure. No matter. An explosive charge would soon open it.
K-Boom! Like a bolt of black lightening Batgirl burst inside.
Four naked black men and two blushing white girls in a state of undress.
“You foul scum!” Batgirl screamed as she launched herself into battle.
Three of the men were big, all four had a blade but even then they were no match for Batgirl - especially a ticked off Batgirl.
Two punches sent two flying into the walls and down. One tried to grab his gun but a quick flash of a ninja star slammed into his wrist and made him drop the weapon. As he screamed she took a heeled black boot in the belly. The last was the biggest and he at least succeeded in swinging his knife at Batgirl. Far too slowly. Batgirl chopped her hand at his throat and threw him into the wall.
SPLAT! The leader of the gang hit the wall hard and collapsed into a heap on the floor.
Now was the time for the Dark Damsel to adapt her classic pose of fists on her hips whilst she surveyed the scene of her triumph.
“It’s about fucking time!” bellowed Susannah as she moved behind the posing super heroine and swung a baseball bat at the back of her head.
The blow caused Batgirl to stumble forward. Not only from the blow itself but from the shock of who had delivered it.