Old story, new twist

By Chelsea Kent

Sometimes I get really irritated with my Dad. He may be the Commissioner of the Gotham City Police force but calling Batman, Robin, and myself in front of all these cameras for a press conference to trumpet our recent capture of the Joker is ridiculous. I mean we’re not exactly day people, to say the least. I still get the feeling someone will recognize me, even in my Batgirl cowl. But l guess the reality is that Daddy’s a politician as well as a cop, and letting the public know what you’re doing helps all around. Besides, it lets the bad guys know he’s standing firm against this crazy rogue’s gallery of criminals in Gotham.

Speaking of my Dad, who is really my uncle who adopted me,  I’ve spent the last four years trying to keep my modesty and keep my 22-year old body from being exposed around the guy. The people of Gotham would be surprised what a pervert he is. I have been walked in on naked so many times, I almost don’t even cover myself anymore. The first time, when I was home from college,  he got a gander at my pussy, and that was it. My poor little snatch was under his visual attack on a weekly, then daily, basis. I’ve tried door locks, but he’s a cop, and he knows how to get pas doors, especially in his own house.  Last week, he had the gall to walk in on me when I was masturbating frantically, unloading and relieving my pussy of at least a month of sexual frustrations. My tiddies were bouncing and flopping madly, and he was not disappointed, to say the least. Hey, my cunt, which gets to the bursting point at times, finds itself around some of the hottest superhero beefcake on the planet on a daily basis, and it’s not easy keeping a reign on my lust and sexual feelings. Men don’t have a clue about a woman’s arousal and needs. I don’t have time for a relationship, so I have to care for my own sexual needs. When Dad saw me stroking my slit like a madwoman, I couldn’t stop myself. He watched for at least several seconds and closed the door. I got up, tossing a pillow his way and screaming curses at him. Needless to say, things have been chilly between us recently.

I thought up the Batgirl idea myself, a few years back. I made the costume, too. I just happened to get lucky this time and stumble across the Joker’s hideout on patrol. Batman and Robin were not far away and helped me collar him. They were both surprised to find the female Bat busting the Joker, and they were a bit jealous. I mean, like,  how hard can this crime fighting gig be? I hope to do pretty good at this, and maybe one day I’ll reveal my identity to Gotham City. I’d surely be famous then in my own right, and who knows, maybe I could go out to Hollywood and get my own reality show or something. 

I’ve been peeking the best I can, and I still have no idea who Batman and Robin are under their masks. I don’t think they know who I am, but I hope to find out their identities one day before they find out mine. I know Robin has been sneaking peeks at my boobs and my butt, and I think Batman has been doing the same. too. I can’t blame them. This Batgirl outfit of mine, which I starved myself to get into, really hugs every curve of my body. I am showing a lot of skin in it, bare legs, high-cut, exposed at the hips and a butt-cheeks exposing thong barely covered by my cape. My full-Cs are about to explode out of my skimpy halter top, which has a deep split down the middle between my breasts. 

Batman is not the most trusting guy in the world, and he caught me snooping on-line for his secret identity last month. I found a connection to the defense contractor he bought the Batmobile from, and he was none too happy. But I mean no harm, and if l ever do earn his trust, maybe he can turn me on to some of that great crime fighting equipment. I bet they have all the latest in computers and crime fighting gizmos. When I graduated from Hamilton Hill High and found work as a librarian, I had to borrow money from Daddy just to buy a personal computer. With all those expensive, “wonderful toys,” as the Joker has called Batman’s many weapons and computer systems, I figure Batman’s got to be a pretty wealthy guy, whoever he is.

I’m pretty sure Daddy doesn’t know I’m the new Batgirl in town, but getting this close to him in my cape and cowl makes me nervous about my secret identity. He’s known me nearly all my life, of course, so I hope he can’t see through the mask and costume. Late one night, after I had just removed my Batgirl costume, he walked in on me as I had just tossed my costume into the bottom of the closet. It was a close call, I mean about the Batgirl costume-not my nudity- but I don’t think he knows I’m Batgirl.

Daddy is reading to the media from a prepared statement, and Batman is putting his hand on my shoulder. Nice. I’ve never seen Batman act friendly to anyone, let alone the new Batgirl in town.

Watch that arm, a little rough there, Bats!

“OHMYGOD! AWP!!” He’s choking me with his arm !! Batman’s choking me and lifting me up off my feet!! What’s he up to?

“BATMAN, STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING??” I shriek.

No-not this-he’s trying to grab my mask with his other hand. I yank my head away, the mask snaps free from his grasp and my cowl is clear-for the moment. He is too strong, though. My God, why is he doing this to me?

Batman’s revealing my secret identity in front of all these media people!

He’s going to unmask me to the world! I grab his big bicep and try to pull his arm down and off of me. He’s way too strong.

“Batman, stop this-NOW! “ I demand. I hear the fear and panic in my voice. I am gagging, having trouble breathing. Choking. I hear myself cough.

He’s not saying a word; he’s like a machine. I try to duck under his arm and almost make it through the tiny opening, but he grabs my bat-ears and holds tight. I can get free, my head is small enough, but if I go on down, the mask will come up and off revealing my face and my secret identity. I give in and push my head back up. Everything is like slow motion like time has slowed down. I see the shocked look on Daddy’s face as he begins to move from the podium toward us. He’s going to be stunned to find his daughter under this mask.

Damn you Batman. I vow I’ll get you for this-I’ll rip that cowl right off your face if it’s the last thing I do.

Batman grabs the face of my mask again. His fingers go through the eye holes of the mask. He has it in a death grip. He yanks upward and the lifts off my face momentarily revealing my features to the unforgiving cameras. Too much shadow of the mask on my face, I hope. The crowd of reporters ooh and ah when the mask comes up. Women are squealing, almost in protest against this. Some male voices are actually laughing and cheering Batman on! There has to be a law against this even though I’m a vigilante-why, he’s a vigilante! Still, my mask is strong, even for Batman’s grip. He’s having trouble with the tight material. Good.

I made it that way for just such an occasion to buy me time to get free, though I never thought Batman would do this to me. He’s getting rougher with the cowl now-OMYFUCKINGGOD! He’s trying to tear it off my face, pulling forcibly on it!

I hear the mask’s material ripping in my ear. Why? What’s gotten into him? Batman’s unmasking me in front of all these media people. I’m finished as Batgirl.

I do a back flip over his head and clasp my legs together. Got him, with his neck in a reverse leg lock! His mouth is pushed right into my butt, and his hips roll toward my face. I look behind me at his face. He’s making a face of revulsion. C’mon,  Batguy. My pussy ain’t that bad. Take it in. That’s it. Smell my cunt and my ass, you big oaf. Taste good, you stupid fuck?

People think Batman has this fatherly relationship with Robin, but I’ve overheard Batman and Robin talking about what they’d like to do to my ass, mocking my so-called “fine” ass. Well, now’s your chance, Batface. Go ahead and lick that ass, like you told Robin you wanted to do. Is it ” fine.”? Go ahead and take it in, you jerk.

I reach around behind me with my right hand and grab his Bat ears tightly. He bites into my costume’s tiny thong and in a flash my exposed  pussy lips protrude out and swallow the material. 

I could care less about my exposed pussy now. My breasts fall out of my skimpy top and dangle about. I’m giving the crowd a real show, but I know I have to unmask Batman. I swirl my arm around under my flowing cape to cover some of my nudity.

This is one tug job he’ll never forget. I’ve got him now,  and he knows it. I see a sneer wash across his mouth. I yank hard but his cowl’s material is thick. I can’t get the mask off.

The  cowl slips from my grip again and slaps back onto his face with a loud pop. The right eye hole is on his forehead instead of his eye, and half of his face is showing, but he stretches his neck and wriggles around until the mask falls back in place! I’m giddy with excitement. I can’t wait to see who this asshole is under his mask. I feel his loud, muffled  scream roaring between my jacked-up butt cheeks, as hestruggles to free himself. His voice is a shrill woman’s shriek, raging at the mocking news people. Some of them are smiling, while some look in stunned horror at the scene.

“Damn you, all of you!” he yells in a guttural moan, “Let me go, Batgirl!”

“Shut the fuck up, you sissy bitch,” I croon to him. “Your time is up.”

 I  give a hard yank, turning my head and trying to peek under his mask as I feel his hard cock brush my face. Ew! Nasty! I push away his hips, and then I freeze with fear.  His utility belt! My face is close to the belt buckle, so I free my right hand while keeping my left hand gripped on his cowl. I nervously twist the buckle free and toss the belt fifteen stories out the nearby window, a souvenir for some lucky soul down below.

 I give the cowl another yank with my free hand, just to keep him intimidated. Whoa! I can see his nose and eyes! Daddy looks bewildered, uncertain what to do. Batman is supposed to be a strong ally of his, but his ally is crying like a tiddy baby now.

“BATGIRL, STOP THIS NOW! PLEASE” he pleads. “NO, BATGIRL-MY MASK, DON’T UNMASK ME!”

I’m practically naked given that my tiny costume has all but fallen off me,  so I grind up against his crotch. I manipulate my body under my cape, which hides my nakedness a bit. In the raucous scuffle, I grab at his crotch, and the head of his penis pops out to mocking laughter from the news people. It’s not exactly the biggest dick I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen my share of them. My nipples are so hard from the excitement they are burning like two rocks in the desert sun. I am so wired, I reach into his crotch and pull something free from his crotch so as to humiliate him even more. It’s a cup protector of some kind. The phony. Everyone thinks he is so big and tough. His c0ckjuts free and bounces out of his trunks, and I can see his luscious pubic hair and his cock. Not a large cock, but it’s a real beauty. It’s long and fat, with a mushroom head. The veins on the shaft are distinctive, and it reminds me of a long, thick rope. It’s  gorgeous! I feel my mouth and my cunt watering.

He lowers his voice and begs me. “Please, I’ll unmask in private for you. Don’t do this here. You’re making a big mistake.”

I feel sorry for him, and for a moment, I think about giving in and letting him go. Then I realize I can’t trust him. After all, he started this by trying to peel off my mask first.

With his head still locked between my legs, I grind my ass and my pussy lips deeper into his mouth.  His lips actually feel nice. I could get used to this.

I reach behind my back with both hands and grab each of his bat ears, one with my right hand and the other with my left hand. I feel a sexual thrill in my soaked cunt and my spine as I yank forward like I’m about to do a breaststroke. I hear a loud POP! I look behind me at my ass and see nothing but his hair. I’ve torn away the top of his cowl, ears and all! Wow, nice hair. His hair is dark and flaxen, but his face is still covered. I’m surprised that he looks like a really handsome babe! I almost hate what I’m doing now. Robin tries to dive in and help, but I see a policewoman restrain him with a warning, a carefully-placed baton to his midsection.

Still, I’ve got to stay strong. “C’mon, Batman, don’t be shy. Let’s see that handsome face,” I taunt.

His head juts out of my rear, and I let out a chuckle at his inconvenient position. Oh, it’s so over for you, Batman. At last we find out who you are. You brought it on yourself. How dare you try to rip my mask off my face in front of all these people. Now you get yours, you macho pig! He is trying to bring his legs around toward me, but I tighten my thighs until the pain stops him. Never underestimate a woman’s leg strength, Bats. I get lots of working out on those inner thighs, putting up with arrogant male pigs like you. 

I personally know plenty of women who have had it with this woman-hating macho pig. Girls rule, you  misogynist cockbrain. Oooh, you are so fucked now, you prick. Now, a female Bat will rule the Gotham night.

He picks his chin up out of my ass, like an underwater swimmer coming up for air. I raise my butt higher and let out a laugh. I’m enjoying this, right in front of his asshole buddy, Robin, and his flunky, the commish. 

 He nestles his chin onto my butt cheeks, pleading and whimpering.

“Please don’t do this, please. I’ll do anything you want-anything,” he begs.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!” he screams as I tighten my leg lock on his neck. He sounds like a sissy.

“YOU BITCH!” he squeals. I laugh at him, and the crowd of media laughs as well. 

The media are eating this up. They love it. Cameras are flashing everywhere. Shutters are clicking madly. The crush of reporters and newscasters are noisily pushing closer toward Batman and me. They want a peach shot of his face, and I am about to give them their wish.

“The Joker is sure to come after your ass  now,’” I say in a tone only he can hear.  “No peace from here on out, Batman. I’ll get this mask off of you, you pointy-eared fucker!”

A forty-something woman is upset. “Oh dear God, the poor man. Somebody help him!”

A man is crowing at Batman, peering over his glasses. I recognize the man, a columnist against the whole Bat-vigilante thing in Gotham.

“Arright,” he says, “let’s have a look under his mask. You go, girl. Go, baby! Yes! Unmask Batman! Let’s see who the Bat really is!”

Video is surely zooming in on us both This is a live news conference. CNN. ABC. CBS. All of he majors. Batman always draws the big media were ever he goes. Pandemonium is everywhere. The room is full of shouts, screams and even whimpers. The whole world is watching his humiliation. It will be on all the evening newscasts and talk shows for days-weeks, maybe months.

Oooh, here we go, the grand finale. I  deftly grab his crippled mask,  his hair still billowing out of the top of it.  The reporters yell out like a crowd just witnessing a long jumper slice through the rim in a basketball game. I tug upward and lift the mask, but again he tucks his head back into my ass, hiding his face. I’m  getting frustrated with what should be a simple thing, pulling off his mask.

He licks my cunt lips and even my clit. My eyes widen in shock, surprised at what a perv he is. I guess he’s really desperate now. My leg lock weakens, and he slips free! Oh, no. But I react quickly and ram the heel of my boot into his face, nearly splitting the remains of his mask in two pieces. His eyes roll up into his head. He slumps to the floor, and I spin my ass and hips around, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back into my crotch.With my tiny costume torn away, I have his chin covering my pubic hair now. 

 ”You love a young woman’s pussy, eh, Batman? Eat it!”

I run my hand through his beautiful hair and then yank his face deep into my pussy, even though the move exposes my cunt to the cameras. I’m so mad at him I could spit.

I mumble to him: “I should piss down your throat right now!”

A look of shock washes over his face. I chortle at him. For a moment, I think he’s afraid I’ll do it.

I grab his hair and angrily pull him in, massaging my cunt with his lips. I’m starting to enjoy this. I go into a wild frenzy with my busy hands, pulling and ripping away the remaining pieces of his mask, staring intensely at my target. The noisy room grows louder but there is a sudden hush as a strange swell of silence falls over them. The mask is only mildly torn. This is going to be tougher than I thought. I hear him grunting, almost crying. He is moving his legs, sort of running sideways  along the floor, swinging his hips closer to my face again. I think fast and reach under his already exposed, bobbing cock, locating his thick heavy testicles. Woo! I have him for sure now. I squeeze his balls, and he literally cries like a baby. Yes, I do have him now!

“Lose the mask! Lose it now!” I bellow out at him. The crowd is going into a wild frenzy. All eyes are on his face. He lets out a loud moaning wail that cuts through the quiet.

“NO, NO NO!!”he wails in anguish.

 He jerks and twists violently in my leg  lock, like a man orgasming inside my belly. I tighten my inner thighs harder around his neck.

“Take it off now!” I insist. “Lose the cowl!”

He reaches for his mask, pretending to remove it. He doesn’t think I mean business, so I tighten my grip on his balls. He groans in anguish, and I can see his frightened eyes through his mask. Robin breaks through the crowd and tries to tackle me, but I have such a tight grip on Batman’s nuts that Batman himself begs the Boy Wonder to stop and he complies.

I’ve seen Robin’s cock before, and it’s huge compared to Batman’s. I saw his oversized pole pop out of his tight trunks once when he and I were on patrol, and I yelped with genuine excitement at the sight of it. He was embarrassed, but he certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. It’s amazing they found a costume to fit over that thing.

Batman slowly removes his cowl, as I hear a wailing moan from Robin.

 “No, Batman! No, Don’t” Robin cries. “Your life-and hers-won’t be worth a plugged nickle now!”

Batman digs his upturned thumbs into his cheeks and slowly lifts the remains of his cowl, exposing his face in public for the first time ever.

Screams, squeals, along with shrieks and excited shrills penetrate the room and bounce off the walls.

A young woman’s voice, perhaps belonging to one of his female fan clubbers,  screeches “No! Please don’t make him unmask! Somebody stop this whore!”

 I squeeze his testicles fiercely and he cries out like a child.

 “Do it, now, or I’ll rip your balls off!” I yell into his face.

 “OK, OK, I’m going to, I promise,” he says.

 “No tricks. It’s over for you, Batman” I say. 

This is  it. This is the last time I will call him Batman. From now on, I call him by his real name.

 “Show us all who you are under there. Now!”

 He removes the cowl and grudgingly uncovers his tear-stained face. 

“Bruce Wayne, my God, it’s Bruce Wayne,” someone yells.

Bruce Wayne! Wow! Now it makes sense. His parents were killed when he was a kid. He’s being seen now,  unmasked in front of the whole world! I release my  leg lock and he slinks to the floor. His eyes are popping wide open and his mouth is locked open, too. His hands make a futile effort to cover his face.

“OH MY GOD, NO!” he screams,  crying and yelling at the same time. Robin rushes to his side to comfort him.  He’s  stunned, and his bare face is wide-eyed in amazement. The media all react like a ringside press corps snapping photos of a fallen boxing champion. He’s whipped, defeated and naked, with no cowl to hide behind now.

The photographers are yelling and jockeying for position around him as they snap pictures of his exposed secret identity in a mad frenzy. Microphones fly into  our faces. He’s on his back unmasked on the floor and some of the media are stepping on him.  He cries out in pain. People are jostling and pushing each other-a fight nearly breaks out between two frantic cameramen. Daddy is yelling, pushing, trying to get past the crazed crush of people to help his friend. I hear him yell Bruce’s name.  Secret’s out. It’s over now for the mighty Batman.

Batman gets up and lunges after me,  but he is so upset I  sidestep him easily. He reaches for my pointed bat-ears, and he grabs one of them. Still, his destroyed cowl is flapping under his chin in the breeze created by his fast movements.

“Take it off, damn you!” he shrieks. He has my cowl ear in his hand. He crushes the ear. I  grab his wrist, but he  clenches the cowl ear tightly and pulls. People are grabbing us, trying to hold him back.  He is too enraged to be stopped. This has become absurd. I feel like I’m on the Jerry Springer Show. He pushes me backwards, and I land on a desktop, which screeches onto a wall with a loud “thunk.” The back of my head hits the wall, and I am woozy for a moment. He’s bull rushing me like a man gone crazy. His mask is flapping freely like a pair of elephant ears, and his penis is flopping madly about.  Robin is rushing alongside his buddy, trying to cover Batman’s exposed cock with his own canary-colored cape.But Batman lands on the desktop and on top of me. The tip of his cock enters  my pussy! I wiggle and wriggle all I can, determined not to allow him full penetration.

 I lock eye contact with him for what seems like minutes. He feels good inside me. Hard but not the kind of rock-hard from sexual athletes like Robin that can pain you all the way to your womb the morning after.

“Stop it!” I scream at him, breaking our mutual trance. Oooh, he feels nice. I almost said, “Don’t stop.”

The whirring, clicking noises of the cameras are as maddening as they are embarrassing, with videographers zooming in for close-ups on our privates. I look down and see that only the head of his penis is submerged into my cunt.

I twist my hips free of him and roll off the desktop, making a beeline out of the nearby window. I’m free, with secret ID intact!

I grab the side of the window and roll outside and onto the ledge, the same ledge I entered an hour ago. I run down the ledge like a gymnast on a balance beam, until I make it well past the building’s corner to where I had earlier hammered an adapted carabiner into the paved ledge. I mount the rope and bounce quickly down eight stories. I turn to the opposite building and flip my belt buckle to the mirror side and press the flash button, which should temporarily blind any prying eyes from windows at the building next door. I quickly reach an open-windowed store room, which just a few doors from my office where I work as Gotham’s  district attorney. I close the window behind me and leave the rope. Dangling ropes on building walls are nothing unusual in Gotham, a city littered with wall-scaling superheroes and villains.

I change into my Barbara Gordon identity and head up the stairwell to the conference room, where all the madness had just happened moments ago, stopping only a minute at the door to catch my breath.

I pop in unnoticed from the stairwell and see that Batman is still the center of attention. He is being led away, and I ask a female reporter why and where they are taking him.

“To jail,” she says. ” He tried to rape the Batgal just because she made him unmask himself. Turns out, he’s Bruce Wayne. Imagine that. A man that rich traipsin’ around at night in that mask and  cape.  He started the fight and all, so I’m glad she turned the tables on him and unmasked him.  Serves the goddamn bastard right.”

“Never was a big fan of his,” I say, opening my mouth and sticking out my tongue in mock gagging as I shake my head.

“Yeah, I hear ya,” she says. ” The Batlady darted out that window over there. I hope she’s OK.”

“I’m sure she is,” I add. “I’m sure she is.”

I walk away from the conversation toward the jailway door, where Batman will soon be. Here he comes. He is handcuffed and being led my two marshals who are even bigger than he is. He locks into eye contact with me, and I know he recognizes me. I light up with a beaming smile, never losing the eye contact until he is well past me, heading to jail.

This is one case I’m going to enjoy prosecuting.

 end