Chapter 3

“Oh this is perfect!” said a voice off to the right, “This is just too perfect!”

Everyone looked over to the direction the voice came from.

A thin near-naked white man approached after having entered via a door that Batgirl hadn’t noticed.

His appearance was decidedly odd. He was naked apart from a pair of dirty underpants that showed off his feeble chest and milky-white skin complexion. On his head there sat a battered stovepipe hat. On his feet were a pair of slippers. A black mask, of such obvious cheapness that it clearly came from a toy store, covered the top part of his face.

Batgirl regarded him warily. Surely he had to have some super weapon?

With a shuffling, stooped walk the man came over to the table. As he came closer Batgirl realised he was younger than she had first thought – probably in his mid-twenties.

“Obviously I hoped that one day you, the fabled Batgirl, would appear in my lair, but not this soon!”

With a wheezing effort the odd man clambered up onto table, the.pitiful lack of bulge in the groin region now embarrassingly obvious to all.

“And who, may I enquire, are you?”

“A-ha!” announced the man with massively misplaced self-confidence, “I am The Panties King!”

“The Pantry King?” asked Batgirl, “What does that mean? You steal biscuits?”

“I said Panties King!”

“I’m afraid that neither that nor your appearance does anything to impress me. Where the hell did you get that name from anyway?”

“Let me explain my origins. Growing up I found it difficult to talk to girls. They seemed to reject me in favor of others. This upset and confused me. I felt I had a problem. But then I realised it was woman, particularly attractive women such as yourself. You have the problem.”

“And what, dare I ask, is my problem?”

“You are all bitches. Whores, sluts, trollops and bitches.”

“My, my,” replied Batgirl rolling her green eyes, “Aren’t we a little bit too much of a pencil-dicked socially-inadequate weirdo?”

The Panties King shot the caped heroine a look of hatred.

“A bitch, like all your kind!” he pronounced.

“And so what do ridiculous men with tiny manhoods do to my kind?”

The Panties King revelled in this opportunity to reveal his plan.

“What is the most prized possession of a woman? It is her pussy. It is that which she uses to tease, to entice, to lure. And what does she have to protect her prized pussy?”

“Let me guess,” said Batgirl in an insolent voice, “Is it her panties?”

“Exactly! And if I seize control of her panties it is like I am seizing control of her pussy! I am the Panties King!”

With some awkwardness the Panties King came back down to floor level and waved a hand at some framed pictures on the wall. Keeping a wary eye on the three hunks of hired muscle Batgirl glanced over. Within each picture frame was a pair of panties with a picture of the owner. Batgirl recognised a picture of Gotham University soccer team star player Laura Lorenzo taken from a newspaper clipping. Next was a publicity picture of Rachel Wright next to her underwear. Then the photograph of Hayley Weston taken in her dressing room. There were a couple of similar frames as well. Batgirl didn’t recognise the girls but the pictures appear to have come from a college yearbook.

“Today I was planning to add the panties of Channel 5’s beautiful new business presenter, Victoria Frizzell. But she is now merely a bonus. For tonight I’ll get the panties of Batgirl herself!”

Batgirl noticed that there were more empty frames stacked against the wall. Quite a lot.

“You’ll be pleased to hear, Batgirl,” continued the deranged oddball, “That your panties will form the centrepiece of my collection! Well, until I get the fabled red panties of the evil beguiling goddess known as Supergirl!”